#I actually spent quite a bit of time on this. 2 days to be precise

[anonymousaccountuser]

Here, have this Clefdraki meme I made a couple years back

(BTW I did NOT draw the pfp I used for Draven I stole that off google somewhere. Just a disclaimer)

#clefdraki #dr alto clef #dr clef #doctor clef #dr kondraki #draven kondraki #scp kondraki #scp #scp foundation #I actually spent quite a bit of time on this. 2 days to be precise #stayed up late working on it #I literally copied everything from the original image… even the battery and stuff lol #AAKSJAJNANANKSN I spent SO LONG trying to draw clefs face right and then I realized… he can’t take selfies #BAM. edited a tarantula right on there… perfect

[twilightmalachite]

2×2 - Grown-Up Situation 7

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuuta, Hinata, Shinobu, Nagisa

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Yuuta-kun is learning things he doesn’t need to be learning…"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Downtown

An hour later. At the filming location for 2×2, the downtown area near Yumenosaki Academy…

Yuuta: Alright, we’re here~♪

Hinata: You must be tired from the long trip! Shall I rub your shoulders, Ran-senpai? ♪

Nagisa: …Fufu. It’s okay, there is no need for you to flatter me like that.

Shinobu: Hm~… It doesn’t really matter, but this place looks awfully familiar, de gozaru.

Hinata: Does it~? This is the downtown area our Master’s shop is located at, it’s home for us 2wink~!

Yuuta: So you know, each time for 2×2 we spend time gaining "experience" of some kind over a week.

Hinata: But to be more precise, a rest period is needed to refresh and prepare for the next round, so it’s for about 5 days.

Yuuta: Yup. And for those 5 days, we dive into a “field” and gain some “experience" in accordance.

Hinata: Alongside the guests—The “friends” Yuuta-kun and I each invited.

And then we as pairs will have a “showdown” using the “experience” we’ve gained over those five days.

Yuuta: For example, with the religious cult—Which wait, I’m not supposed to say aren’t I, we became members of the organization and spent time as a believer.

That time, our “showdown” was to see which pair could raise their rank within the religion the most, right?

Hinata: Yup. That time, because I had invited and teamed up with Hasumi-senpai of all people, I was really taken aback hearing him say he was a heathen…

Yuuta: Instead it brought more attention to you, and you and Hasumi-senpai gained a higher rank and won the “showdown”. It wasn’t fair, Aniki, you invited someone who was a professional.

Hinata: If you have complaints, how about inviting someone other than Shinobu-kun, Yuuta-kun…?

Shinobu: That episode became quite the hot topic, or rather, controversial, de gozaru. So much so I started to get anxious if it was really okay to air, de gozaru.

Yuuta: Right. Of course, it was no physical interview by a reportage writer for some third-rate magazine, but I was able to find somewhere that could corroborate that it was a sound organization, just in case.

Shinobu: Truthfully, it was a pretty easy environment to relax and spend time in, de gozaru. And all the believers were very nice and kind.

I thought that I might have actually been prejudiced towards religion, de gozaru.[1]

Yuuta: While of course there probably are in fact some places that are genuinely dangerous, I don’t think there’s any need to be wary about all religions.

Shinobu: Yeah… Though, I do feel like I’m able to understand more about Shinkai-dono.

I found the time we were made to stay at a farmhouse and work non-stop on a farm to be more difficult, de gozaru.

Yuuta: But it was the classic example of a neat and clean idol doing muddy farm work! The gap between the two is interesting, isn’t it?

Shinobu: Well, that episode was fun in the end, de gozaru… By growing vegetables, I felt like I was able to understand Midori-kun a bit more, who comes from a family of greengrocers.

Hinata: I hope to learn from how you’re always finding the bright side of things no matter what!

Shinobu: For the record, the first episode was the farm work, the fourth episode was the cult religion, the third episode was living on 500 yen a day, and the second episode was living a celebrity life in a rich man’s mansion, de gozaru!

Nagisa: …Ummm. So in chronological order, it’d be farm work, celebrity life, extreme poverty, then cult religion, right?

Shinobu: Yes. After living a luxurious life as a celebrity, I was thrown into a life of extreme poverty, which made it even rougher for me, de gozaru.

Yuuta: And that’s why we turned to cult religion. Oh no! ♪

Nagisa: …Hm. So the episodes Anzu-san were in charge of were the first and third, about farm work and living in extreme poverty.

Yuuta: Looking at it like that, it kinda feels like Anzu-san’s plans are some sort of rip-off—Or rather, it feels like something I’ve seen somewhere already.

Hinata: If anything, YamadaP’s throwing way too many curveballs.

Yuuta: His ideas are seriously outlandish and his content is just generally funky, isn’t it?

Nagisa: …Hm. I think that following in the footsteps of famous shows like Anzu-san is a good strategy in terms of getting consistent ratings.

…There will be no accidents if you take the high road.

Yuuta: And in this industry, there’s a surprising amount of rubber stampers.

And saying it’s like some famous program makes it easier for viewers to understand. If you say something tastes just like a delicious food that you’ve had before, it’ll sell to an extent.

Nagisa: …I see. However, if it continues to develop similarly, Anzu-san’s standing might deteriorate.

…Let us compare. Anzu-san’s episodes feel like something you’ve already seen before, while YamadaP’s episodes feel like something brand new.

…Viewers who notice this might guess that the producers alternate in running the show in their search for the “cause”.

Shinobu: ? And if that happens, what then?

Nagisa: …Humans tend to compare two things side by side by deciding which one is better and which one is worse.

…Comparing Anzu-san and YamadaP, what Anzu-san was in charge of are something that they had seen somewhere before.

…So they may judge that it is unadventurous content that is boring with no surprises.

…The viewership ratings, in other words, are criticisms from a dimension different from this Producer showdown. One may conclude that Anzu-san is inferior to YamadaP.

…There is the possibility that YamadaP will utilize his personal connections to influence public opinion in this way, too.

…As a result, even if YamadaP loses the showdown in the end, it would mean that YamadaP would still be superior to Anzu-san as a producer.

…The world can be engraved with such impressions.

…Even if YamadaP loses the match, he can still win the game.

Yuuta: I see… That way, he can make a name for himself even without being the head of P-Association, a position that’s nothing but a hassle.

He’d come out more capable than Anzu-san, ES’ prided and prized producer.

Amazing. I’ve learned a lot. I see~, so there’s more than one way to do things…

Hinata: Yuuta-kun is learning things he doesn’t need to be learning…

Nagisa: …Of course, at this point, we still don’t know if something like that will happen.

…It was simply just a guess of mine. But, I do think we should look at things from a broader perspective, and not just focus on immediate victors and losers.

…Both Anzu-san, and you guys too.

Yuuta: That one hits close to home. …During SS, I was too focused on the immediate victory, and lost the trust of many people as a result.

I don’t regret it, but I need to reflect on it. So that next time, I can do it better.

Hinata: … …

[ ☆ ]

← prev | story directory | next →

As a small cultural note; generally speaking, the notion of “casual” religion is prevalent across Japan, with the way a lot of other cultures perform religion (i.e. with daily readings, prayer attendance) considered to be unusual in Japan. Practices like that face quite a bit of lack of understanding and are often broadly considered “cult-like”. That being said, this “cult religion” in question seems to be described pretty oddly and sensationally, probably for comedic value.

#2×2 #2x2 #yuuta aoi #hinata aoi #shinobu sengoku #nagisa ran #event #translation

[leam1983]

So, you wanna play the Wizard Game...

Let's start with a point of comparison.

When I was a kid, in the halcyon age of the Nineties, Earthworm Jim 1 and 2 were my jam on the SNES. I loved the associated cartoon, and basically owed my exposure to absurdist humor to concepts like the Great Cosmic Worm or the launching of cows into the stratosphere using a crude fulcrum. To me, EWJ was zany, lively, more than content to wag its Vaudevillan villains around for non-crucial bits of mundane evilness that went as far as being rude to the postman - and mostly innocent.

Then, time passed, I grew up, and came to learn of Doug TenNapel, the creator of the IP - and of his views.

Doug TenNapel is a Conservative who mealy-mouths his way around bigotry and antisemitism, more or less the type to Tommy Tallarico his way out of a situation by waving the "Lookit, I'm zany!" card as if we were still effectively in 1995. He tried for a comeback with a Webcomic entitled Ratfist, back in 2010, but his views more or less blew up in his face. Ratfist was unceremoniously concluded and TenNapel effectively faded from public consciousness.

I spent a few weeks wondering how I felt about this. I still had some fondness for EWJ and for ancillary projects that bore a bit of that TenNapel touch (like Shiny Entertainment's MDK), and it took me a while to remember that no, some literary analysis devices that I've been taught to use in the field are not, in fact, a form of tacit approval of the author's views.

Fast-forward to today, and I'm seeing a world where you cannot extricate a work from its author, where someone having a stroke of genius one particular decade ago and then turning into a raging shithole several years later apparently disqualifies everything they've put up in the past from any sort of consideration.

Now, my girlfriend had a sideline in Art History. Whenever she's confronted with Purity Culture as a concept, she remembers Caravaggio's works. The guy is a giant in the field of later Renaissance art, both for his talent and for his personality.

You see, Caravaggio fucked. He was a serial philanderer, he got into fights over women, cultivated a long list of lovers both male and female - and of open convictions. He also recruited a prostitute off the street and hired her to pose for him - as the Virgin Mary. Imagine picking a lady-of-the-road right across from the church that's just commissioned you, and recognizing that with the right light and medium, her face had those exactingly precise characteristics the elite looked for in their depictions of religious figures. For his time, he was as controversial as you could imagine. By today's standards, he'd probably have a massive following on Tumblr, if he were both alive and had a blog of his own. I don't think it'd be much of a stretch to imagine him as an ally, actually.

Despite that, no Art History student will ever look at his works in the context of who Caravaggio was. They'll look at his works in the context of when and where they were made. There's a massive difference there. In my own studies, I've done the same for everyone between Zola to Steinbeck, and I've definitely given Joanne Katherine Rowling's flagship series more of a critical eye.

Just - not in the way I'd assume most people would appreciate, these days. The Potterverse, if you will, is one that's effectively designed to be formative for younger readers, and one that quite visibly predates the author's drift towards reactionary politics. You can spot weak shades of it in some places, like Dumbledore's tokenistic referral as a gay man, but the series actually strives for inclusiveness. As to why trans characters never came into play, I'd chalk it up to ignorance and lack of comfort. I'm only a cis and bi man, and it took me years of study and careful attention to work past my own fears and workshop a trans character that wouldn't be - hopefully - much of an offense to anyone. Rowling herself simply never had that chance, or never took it once it was offered.

Obviously, she won't take it now even if it's offered. Her later works are disturbingly facile, in the sense that most skilled authors tend to use their external voice to provide mere observations and not to unsubtly pass judgement - an aspect in which she now repeatedly fails. Her posture can still be extricated from what she's written under the name of Robert Galbraith, but it has the relative finesse of a Ben Shapiro wish-fulfillment fantasy. Considering, I find it quite easy to draw a line between the Potter Era and the Post-Potter Era. There's a bitterness at play in her later works that just isn't present in what actually serves as her juvenilia, effectively.

There's a young and hopeful JKR drawing sketches in a café, and then there's the frustrated and bitter woman pulling increasingly desperate pleas for relevance. The lines couldn't possibly be any clearer.

So - let's assume you've effectively killed Rowling in the sense used by Narratology theorists and removed her from any consideration in her works. Can you play Hogwarts Legacy knowing that a small, if not insignificant portion of its royalties are going to go to Rowling's pockets?

Yes. How, you might ask?

Pirate it. If the Wizarding World still matters to you, pirate the fuck out of this one. Rip her books and upload raw PDFs to your Kindle. Considering the game's dev history, I'm sure plenty of employees in Avalanche itself would give you their blessing.

The Death of the Author absolutely does apply - especially in a situation where means exist to obtain the media involved at no cost whatsoever beyond your own bandwidth.

#hogwarts legacy #on buying the game #on not buying the game #on support vs piracy #pirate this thing kiddos

[bleachbleachbleach]

Urahara and Yoruichi for the character bingo 🧡

@itz-darktrax also asked for Yoruichi, so we've got a 2-for-1!

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

@whipplefilter:

Not as deep as they seem: This is Day 2 of my taking these bingo squares way too literally and being frustrated by the fact that the words in the square aren’t *exactly how I personally would have expressed this* (because that’s what memes are aiming to be, lol). Clearly there’s a lot of layers to these two. But I think the characters around them, in seeing that and interacting with them on that basis, probably overestimate how many.

I think Soi Fon is the one with more complex feelings when it comes to Yoruichi than vice versa, for instance. Soi Fon was probably told from a young age "no attachments!" and then proceeded to fail in this. But I think Yoruichi tends to hold herself more apart from others because she doesn’t need to be socially fulfilled in that way. She’s highly independent. While, you know, exile from Soul Society and disappearance from the fam probably wasn’t ideal, I think she was more ready to accept that than most people would be, and I honestly don’t think it occurred to her that others might not feel the same way until Soi Fon brought it up mid-death match.

I think the air of mystery that Urahara cultivates is tactical. Not in the sense that he’s pretending to be a humble shopkeep and is actually something else. Obviously. But I think by pretending to be a humble shopkeep, he’s well aware that any shinigami who come by will understand that that’s a ruse and look for the man behind the green curtain, but will also do so much work in filling in those blanks themselves that they all come away with slightly different impressions of what the turn is. He comes across as just weird enough that all the shinigami overproduce reasons to be wary, and essentially do all the work for him.

They work better as part of a dynamic: Honestly, who isn’t this true of? you silly little bingo square. But I’m most interested in Urahara and Yoruichi as they relate to each other. I love the scene in one of the New Years eps where they spend the night alone together because everyone forgot (or never knew) their almost-twin birthdays. I’m also just halfway into my Soi Fon era at all times, so I’m interested in Yoruichi as she is related to Soi Fon (see above). I don’t know why I have a Soi Fon era, but I keep having it, so it must be real! The "I don’t really have much to say about them" is just because I keep talking about Soi Fon instead.

--

@ippoddity

They’re Deeper than They Seem/Why Do They Look Like That: I’m answering this mostly from the perspective of my first impression of Urahara. I think being “deeper” than he seems is a given just based off his character design. I mean, he wears a hat that shadows his eyes, has a concealed sword, and runs a shady shop. Even as more about his character is revealed, there’s definitely still a bunch about him that we don’t know. I haven’t really spent much time thinking trying to fill in blanks about him, but I love that lots of other people in fandom have. At the same time… what’s with the bucket hat? Like, where did he acquire it and why is he so attached to it?

Didn’t Get Enough Screen Time: I recognize that Bleach is Ichigo’s story, and Urahara and Yoruichi are only a minor part of it. But I really love Urahara’s fighting tactics. Even though he spends quite a bit of time monologuing, I think it’s fun to watch him mess with his opponents. And you have to admit that his zanpakutou power is really cool and has a lot of potential for being badass. I am looking forward to his big Benihime fight in TYBW! Same goes for Yoruichi. I love that while most people fight with swords in the series, she brings the hand-to-hand combat.

I Really Don’t Have Much to Say About Them: For Yoruichi, I think it’s precisely because she doesn’t have a whole lot of screen time that I don’t have much to say about her… Most of her screen time is spent mostly positioning her in contrast to another person. Whether she’s acting as Ichigo’s mentor or fighting against Soi Fon, I feel like the story in that moment is usually much more about the other person than her. So uh… I think she’s cool and strong and there’s not much more I can say.

Free Space: Despite everything I said about wanting to see more of Urahara, he kind of falls into this grey area where I actually am pretty happy with how much is revealed about him. Part of the point of his character is to be the silly and arcane Guy Who Knows Things. There’s gonna be a lot that we don’t know about him, and I’m happy to keep it that way.

Work Better as Part of a Dynamic: Just like my co-blogger talked about, I think Yoruichi works much better in a dynamic than she does an individual agent. Which is interesting, since she’s presented as such a maverick. But whether it’s with Urahara or Soi Fon, I think Yoruichi is vastly more interesting when she has someone else to play off.

#i'm sorry these are largely uninteresting answers and it took so long to answer this lol #shihoin yoruichi #urahara kisuke #ask games #bingo card game #no brain just bleach

[kaoarika]

I finally finished the TonaKai manga after... *checks publishing date of last volume I got* apparently 5 years since I bought volume 2. I remember also watching the anime around that time, and I can truly tell I don't remember much of it, lol. To be fair, it was only adapted through Volume 4 and I think some stuff gets a little fun and interesting after then.

I cannot really explain why, but I think the series is a bit overlooked these days? I don't think it was flawless, but surely it was a very enjoyable shoujo series and a little different from other cookie cutter high school romances of the time. However, when I meant "it wasn't flawless" it was mostly about some stuff that I think could have been benefitted from being introduced a little earlier. Like, I get it, it focuses on Shizuku and Haru as people and a relationship as a whole, and to a lesser extent it extends to their friends, but that's exactly why I felt that the anime feels quite incomplete if we didn't get the same characters' journey conclusion?

(I know there's a whole "that's why you buy the manga :D" thing going on with anime adaptations that are... incomplete to a degree... but this anime was UNFAIR on that)

I also think that having more characters is a bit of a thing that sometimes do not accomplish well in the long run. I guess Sasahara, Yuzan, Iyo, and Chizuru (and Takaya, to a degree) having their respective extra chapters isn't a bad thing - but... you know, you know?

I have read that some ppl were a little disappointed that the finale (I guess, between "actual final" numbered chapters and extra chapters) doesn't really resolve some things in relation to some things about Haru's and Shizuku's respective families... or they get a little too easy of a pass. I understand it wasn't much about their families, and some things are a little too subtle (like, it's obvious that Yuzan and Haru MIGHT reconcile more and more with each other in the future... because misunderstandings and sacrifices were made, and Haru still thinks of Yuzan as a brother?)

However, why Shizuku's mom is living far from home? I GET IT, she is a busy attorney... but? just because her husband didn't have a job?; why Haru kinda... resolved things with his 'pos of a womanizer' dad so easily when he got married? He is the kind of guy who could have flipped the guy already, and the guy was obviously taking advantage of the whole wedding thing for a political gig... and, in that tone, I wish Yuzan also freed himself more of his family duties and it kinda looked it was going to be that way in a sense, like, honey, you shouldn't take responsibility of that pos of a father and his company, despite what the shareholders and investors may think...? Or, you know, take it and build it in your own image, lmao)

The final extra chapter was also majorly good, but I do agree with Takaya that the two of them got married "young" (it's not definitely clear how many years have passed? 6 years after they graduated?) but in an in-character sense, they did so, because they probably wanted to because "busy lives" with one being a lawyer and the other being a researcher (and since Haru already spent a whole year out of the country precisely because of this...) and what not.

I'm not fine with some of the choices Robico did at the end, lmao. I don't like the dress Shizuku wears in the formal party presentation, lol... and definitely I don't think "policewoman" fits Iyo as future career (could in a sense of her former chuuni personality... but aside of that? I think actress might have fit her a lot more?)

I dunno, just my typical disagreements about when the characters are in middle school or high school age and whichever author makes a time skip and makes some bizarre choices for their future careers (Ankyou, I miss you but, hell... do I STILL find some of those career choices for the 28 middle schoolers be kinda weird...), lol

#kao's ramblings #tonari no kaibutsu kun

[french-done-fast]

DAY SIXTEEN to THIRTY-THREE

Long time no see! I found myself quite jaded with duolingo. Thankfully, this isn’t a duolingo blog, so I probably will switch to something else. The only thing I can praise about duolingo is that it’s good at helping users build habits but….. actually learning the language beyond the game leaves a lot to be desired. And I knew that. I’ve known that since my first duolingo rodeo in 2016. But for it to be so popular and still so lacklustre years later is…… sad.

TL;DR all duolingo is good for is building a habit and knowing juuuuust enough of a language to pass a school related test (of course duolingo would go hand in hand with another system known for wasting time but, this is exactly how it’s advertised so can’t be mad about it). If you aren’t able to learn a language via immersion, learn it via understanding. This is precisely why people recommend textbooks- and why I’ll personally recommend LanguageTransfer and Lingodeer. LT is a podcast sort of approach run by basically one guy, so the catch is it has a limited selection of languages. Lingodeer is a game approach similar to duolingo, but it has very professional and comprehensive notes that work wonderfully with the material, and significantly less repetitive sentences. The two catches are, I don’t know how the free version is anymore, as I bough LD’s premium a while ago, and I think it’s at its best when you’re learning a language with a different writing system (Arabic, chinese, Korean, etc)

If you REALLY REALLY want to learn with duolingo, play the “reverse tree” of your target language (ie the English for French speakers tree) It is a little shocking how much less babyfied some of those are. (This is also a 2016 technique lol) although they still have their weird time wasters…. (Pictured below: what the “English for Korean speakers” course thinks is the English alphabet) (I know from their pov they may have been trying to represent the variety of different pronunciations of the same letters in English, but it’s just inefficient to do it that way. They simply aren’t going to use these letters to spell words, so I think it will only lead to more confusion)

This blog has no following at all so this serves more as a reminder to future me to just not try with the owl again.

So! What happened to my big plans of beating the French course… sort of fast? Well, long story short I got sick of duo’s setup. It teaches new things so slow, often repeating the same few sentences for an entire unit (this problem is even worse in other courses but we’ll get to that) and while you can cheese it, why would you? To unlock another unit that does the same stuff? At some point you realize you aren’t actually retaining any information, and are just doing whatever you can to hear that *ding*… well again, that’s what duolingo advertised- the gameification angle- but it DID also promise language learning.

I took a bit of a break. Just spent my days doing a lesson or so, feeling bad knowing tomorrow will just be the same silly sentences. Then day 30 hits and with it I get a shiny 3 free days of super duolingo. No ads and no heart bs? Seemed like the perfect time to check out the Chinese and Korean courses, 2 languages I’m on again off again learning constantly, and both I only tried the duolingo version of when they were still in beta. I played the first 3 units of both. Hooooooo boy. The chinese tree is so braindead. It is the same 10 characters on loop, then suddenly they will chuck 6 others in and loop those for 6 more skills. Good news, by unit 3 you will DEFINITELY know how to say -“hello. My last name is (blank). My name is (blank blank). Bye”- It is a dumpster and Chinese is such a huge language there is a plethora of other resources at your disposal. It is not worth it to go with duo.

Now, the Korean course on the other hand, is bad in an interesting way. Now, because Korean has Hangul (one of the worlds best writing systems) duolingo understands it’s important to take the time to teach it to you. Awesome! But here’s the odd part, there is both almost the entirety of the first 2 units spent on learning the alphabet, as well as an alphabet tab(the lessons in which don’t use any hearts). So ok, they just neglected to remove the useless parts of the course since adding the tab in…… checks notes…. As early as may 2022. Fine, whatever. But a bigger issue is the ai for their Hangul is screwed. It just kept repeating gat, gang, gap, dak, and various vowels for the entire 2 hours I was chugging away on this, and to make it even worse the romanization is really confusing. Tumblr won’t let me print the characters so just bear with me; there is an established letter for g. There is an established letter for k. But in a word spelled to say “gag”(in Hangul) duolingo romanizes it as “gak”, probably because there’s a little nuance to how it actually sounds with a Korean accent, but when you romanize things based on how they sound in certain contexts rather than keeping it a consistent 1 to 1, it only makes things more confusing. This issue is extremely prevalent with the vowels. There is going to be a lot of nuance between e, u, eo, ui, i sounds based on context. So when duolingo asks me to say which vowel is for their romanization, it just turns into a weird guessing game. I know what these words say, but I don’t know what duolingo thinks the exact romanization is. Add to this a fun little game they play in unit 3 where they cram together similarly spelt words in hopes of catching you off guard, in lieu of an ACTUAL lesson.

Ah yes, the vocabulary itself. The Korean course doesn’t even bother with teaching you how to say hello. Remember, it thinks it’s more important to teach you Hangul. But there are SO MANY easy Korean words to choose from to learn Hangul with……. May as well use Hangul-ified names of American cities. That’s right. You’re going to learn such important vocab as “Boston… Philadelphia…. Pennsylvania….. New York…..” oh but it’s not all places! You absolutely need to know how to write “Hyundai” in Hangul! As if this weren’t confusing enough, it directly just…. Lies? It throws vocab at you like white, black, hair, diamond, silver, gold, key, just the English words but written in Hangul, then presents them as genuine vocabulary. The Korean words for those are quite simple, why make this weird middle step? Oh, right, to pad the course out. The final slap in the face is they later teach you the actual words, but their ai will keep shoving the old incorrect words in your face along with them. So sometimes it is just a question of “oh, ok. The actual word isn’t here, guess I have to use the wrong for this sentence for no reason. This isn’t even mentioning some of the actual sentences they teach are useful phrases such as “baby’s milk” “cucumber milk” “baby’s cucumber” “trash field”

Anyhow, the final mini update: super duolingo gives a LOT of exp. Like, dam, there is no point in trying at all for the ranking thing without it lol. I got legend for 2 units of Chinese, and 3 units of Korean, and for the Korean one I even got like a special blue legend (but it only shows on the website version). I reached Ruby and had a fun mini rivalry with the #2 person just before the results were set.

So, I guess that’s how I spent my Sunday afternoon. 🧍‍♂️

#duolingo #language learning #challange #Korean

[faber76dyhr]

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[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Henry Bowers (2/5)

Word count; 4.3k

*Edited.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bev. Have a safe trip home,” I wished the woman, waving her a good-bye as I hopped on my bicycle. Another school day completed, another Monday to be precise. There was a lack of discourse as usual, minus topics discussed in AP English. So, I was in a fairly chipper mood.

But, like anything high, it eventually comes down. And I realized that my happiness was coming to an end when I biked right past the Bowers Gang - of whom were in the middle of picking on a group that was rumored to be the ‘Loser Gang.’ The reason why my day was ruined, though, is that the creep who was named Patrick spotted me and catcalled to me, thus drawing the attention of the rest of the gang.

I sped up on my bike, heading down the jagged, cement road. I was relieved and slowed to a more reasonable pace when nothing came from behind me, so I figured the gang was having more fun tormenting the Loser Gang.

A few minutes passed, and I had just finished biking up the hill and was out of breath. I enjoyed the scenery, since the weather was nice, and I hoped to see some couples sneaking into the woods as I began crossing over the Kissing Bridge.

I jumped when a honk came from behind me. I veered closer to the side, and peered over my shoulder. Oh no, I recognized that car. And to further confirm my suspicions, Henry Bower’s head popped right out the passenger side window.

“Pull the fuck over, bitch!” he shouted, giving me a middle finger. Belch steered the car closer to my bike.

I let out a shriek and did as told, slowing the bike and accidentally ramming right into the low steering. I almost threw myself off the ledge, but I caught myself. I gulp as I stared into the river abyss.

I turned around just as the gang had pulled over. I wasn’t quite as confident in myself now that I was completely alone and being jumped by four boys that were stronger than me, but I had to try my best to stand my ground.

I pressed myself to the rail as much as I could while keeping my balance, hoping not to end up in the torrents below. My eyes were glued to the leader as the teens slowly cornered me.

“You know, this place is Kissing Bridge,” Patrick hissed perversely. “If you want to be let off the hook, you can suck me off like the good little slut you are.”

I sent him a disgusted glare, and Henry, surprisingly did the same. Belch let out a hearty yet cruel laugh. As per usual, Victor was acting as though he didn’t want to be here. Henry’s attention soon shifted to me as he backed me up further towards the edge.

“Didn’t think we’d run into you today, sweater slut,” Henry began, a vile smirk making its way to his face. “Nobody around to help you out this time.”

I couldn’t help but tremble a bit, and I bit back a rude remark. Instead, I replied,” I don’t get why you find terrorizing kids to be so fucking fun. Maybe if you spent more time focusing on yourself, you’d be happier.”

I let out a groan of pain as my head was whipped to the side. Henry had delivered a harsh slap to the side of my face. Tears threatened to fall already. I cradled my cheek and sent a quick glare back.

“You’ve got some balls criticizing us,” Henry growled, leaning closer towards me. “Or are you a fucking masochist? Do you like getting slapped around, sweater slut?” Patrick let out a snicker.

“B - bro, I’m just trying to go home, okay? I have things to do.”

I wasn’t sure what was funny, but the entire gang erupted into taunting cackles. And that’s when I realized, Henry had reached into his pocket and withdrew a pocket knife.

Oh no. Abort. Abort this. I’m a fucking a coward. I was going to get sliced and diced. I became actually aware of the arms that held me down while Henry pulled up my shirt. The knife was mockingly grazing my skin. Oh my god, this could not be happening. Help, somebody help, please —

Without thinking, I tore my arms out of the minions’ grasp and pushed Henry away from me. Clearly, they weren’t expecting me to retaliate, as Henry was caught off guard. But then again, so was I; my body teetered over the ledge of the bridge, and as hard as I tried to catch myself, I fell right over.

A scream tore at my throat as I fell back. I waved my limbs furiously in the air. The gang was peering over the ledge, horrified. My body collided with the water, and the impact made my eyesight go black.

~~~

I coughed viciously, my chest heaving. I was cold and shivering, too tired to open my eyes, but in too much of a critical state to pass out again. Two hands pressed into my chest in a rhythm, up and down, up and down. It helped me cough out the remaining water in my lungs.

Someone helped me sit up, and I immediately threw up a little more water, leaning into the stranger’s warm body. I was finally able to breathe, greedily sucking in and out. I rubbed my eyes. My vision was blurry for a minute, only able to make out blurs of blue, green, and brown.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ,” a familiar voice grumbled, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on my soaked back. My clothes stuck to my skin. I was finally able to see, and I squeaked out of shock when I saw who my hero was.

“Henry…!” I exclaimed, coughing slightly. The rest of the gang had seemingly deserted us, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that Henry was slightly nicer now that there wasn’t peer pressure.

“What?” He snapped, eyes narrowing, as he finally pulled away. He crossed his arms, giving me a permanent glare.

“…Thanks,” I stuttered, getting lost in thought.

He was being nice just this once, but who wouldn’t save a drowning human? Plus, his friends weren’t around. And let’s be honest, by tomorrow morning, they’ll be on my ass tormenting me and Bev again. God, if there was a way take him just leave me alone… maybe there was. Just because he treated everyone else like crap, he still treated his friends fine, so what if he had a girlfriend?

It was only my senior year, so it’s not like I had to commit to actually liking my boyfriend. I could just have one for the sake of fun. And if it meant me and my best friend slash girl crush had immunity to the bullying, then it would be worth it. Sure, there was no guarantee making a move would be successful, but it was worth a shot.

Henry quirked his brow and his scowl deepened. “The fuck are you thinking about, slut?”

I bit my lip and cast my gaze away. Welp, if this wasn’t successful, I’d have a goddamn panic attack. I grabbed the collar of his shirt, catching him off guard, and pulled his head to mine. Not giving him the chance to attack me, I smashed my lips onto his.

He shoved me away, more bewildered than anything. I still had a grasp on his collar, and I was dying internally as he just stared. My lips started trembling and I shut my eyes, expecting a slap, a punch, anything really.

Instead, his warm, chapped lips hungrily latched onto mine once more. His hands weaved into my hair, and despite his usually rough composure, he was innocent and unskilled. I kissed back, somewhat enjoying the feeling. However, it didn’t last long, and Henry pulled away again, surprisingly out of breath.

His face was flushed in confusion and embarrassment, and he was looking anywhere except at me. I had a blush rising to my face as well, and my heart was beating like crazy. An awkward silence washed over us, but not an intense, terror-filled silence.

Henry huffed, his grumpy resting face returning. “Did you mean what you said?”

I jumped. “When I said what?” I stuttered.

“When you… you said you hoped I could learn to be happy or some shit,” he grumbled, sending a glare.

My mind went blank. Had I said that? I probably did. I always assumed Henry had problems at home. “Well, uh, yeah. I just figured… you were acting out and all that. No offense, I just figured that was… the case.”

He narrowed his eyes, inspecting my expression. “You’re gonna be my fucking girlfriend.”

My heart almost jumped out of my chest. “R - really?”

“What, you got a problem with that, sweater slut?”

I almost rolled my eyes. “Well, uh, not really. But only if you drop the nickname.”

He smirked. “What, you don’t like it?”

“Dude,” I sighed. “I’m down to, like, go on a date with you and all that mushy gushy stuff, but no way in hell are you calling me such derogatory terms. It’s rude.”

He sent a glare. “Don’t test your fucking luck, sw - bitch.”

Oh, boy. The price of success was steep.

~~~

Bev and I marched down the hallway, notebooks clutched to our chest. It wasn’t too crowded, since we were usually early to school. I loved hanging out with her whenever possible,. I was clingy, I’ll admit it. And especially after the exciting weekend, Bev was an immediate stress-reliever. Although, I had yet to mention the whole ‘I’m dating Henry Bowers’ thing.

“Hey, I hate to ask this, but I was hoping you could give me the answers to the last two problems for the math homework,” I requested with a sigh. “I’m usually okay with math, but calculus is a bitch.”

“Oh! Of course,”Bev answered. “You look a bit tired, too. Didn’t you get enough sleep last night?”

“Hm, well, my weekend was pretty crazy. It’s a whole story time. I’ll have to tell you during lunch or something cuz you won’t believe what happened,” I sighed.

Bev quirked a brow, and we finally made it to my locker. I unlocked it and organized my things, including a packed lunch - of which I added extra food for Bev and the new boyfriend. Bev patted my back sympathetically.

“You should try and get a nap during lunch, or if you dare, during class,” she recommended.

“Maybe, but you know I don’t have the guts to sleep in class. Especially with Mister Schatner. You know he whacks any student who puts their head down.”

I gathered what I needed and we started walking to Bev’s locker. I slung my backpack over my shoulder. Bev linked our arms together. She had that dazzling smile on her face and smelt a little too much like shampoo and cigarettes.

A group of girls - the annoying drama bitches - suddenly stepped in our way. I had no reason to remember their names, especially with how basic they probably were. We tried to weave around them, but the girls shoved us to the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going, slut? You’ve gotten off the hook with the Bowers gang up your ass, but you’ve gotten cocky,” the blonde bimbo sneered.

“And look, the bitch found herself a slutty friend,” a brunette chirped.

We went to stand up, but the blonde shoved her foot to our chests, kicking us back down. Beverly already had tears running down her face, and such a sad sight pissed me off.

“Aren’t you going to stand up for your slut friend, book whore?”

I glared, kicking my foot out and aiming right at the shin. I successfully forced the teenager back, so while her minions were whining and helping the bimbo up, I pulled Bev to her feet.

“I don’t need to say anything. Pick on Bev again, I —“

“The fuck’s going on?” Henry suddenly spoke up, emerging from the crowd with his friends. He possessively threw an arm around my shoulder, so I took the chance to pull Bev closer to me.

The gossip girls gawked at the scene before us, but the brunette took charge. “H - Henry! We were just putting these whores in their place.”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “…You callin’ my girlfriend a whore?”

Even the people passing by in the halls stopped. Everyone was staring, but I was especially aware of Bev’s bewildered expression. Henry hugged me closer, and his friends stepped closer to the scene.

“Y - your girlfriend?” the blondie tittered. “That’s… funny. I didn’t realize you had a sense of humor.”

Henry tilted his head, finally stepping forward. I noticed that in Bev’s confused stupor, Patrick had wrapped an arm around her waist. Ew, but regardless, I was pleased with Henry’s protection. Henry towered over the blonde bimbo.

“Yeah, it’ll be real funny when I’m drowning you in the toilet, whore,” he growled. “You sluts better keep your fucking heads down sucking jock dicks if you know what’s good for you, got it?”

“Y - yes, Henry!”

The blonde went to turn and run, but he snatched her hair and pulled her back. She let out a scream, but Henry interrupted,” Oh, and keep my name out of your filthy fucking mouth.”

With that, he pushed her forward, sending her tumbling into her minions. I was rather shocked at the scene, but Bev was more so. She even shrank away from me, betrayal etched into her features. Oh man, I definitely should’ve told her earlier.

Henry stood in front of me, pride etched in his features. “You’re fucking lucky we showed up. Ya can’t even deal with those bitches by yourself.”

“Wh… what’s going on, Y/n?” Bev inquired uneasily.

“Uh, well, you see, Bev, that’s the big thing I needed to tell you,” I explained nervously.

Bev narrowed her eyes incredulously. “You? With the literally dickhead that torments us daily? Are you serious?” She shoved Patrick away.

“Got a problem with that, sweet cheeks?” Patrick teased from behind.

I sent Patrick a glare before sending Bev a strained smile. The five-minute bell rang. “I’ll tell you the details at lunch, ‘kay?”

“Come on, nerd, I’m walking you to class,” Henry mumbled into my ear, tugging on my arm.

I bit my lip, and went to bid my best friend good-bye, but she had already disappeared. Henry nodded at his gang and they all dispersed, leaving me with the bully. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Man, I got some explaining to do…”

“Fucking pay attention to me, bitch. You’re my girlfriend,” he complained, but it was surprisingly casual.

I rolled my eyes. “Needy much? Let’s get going,” I conceded, grabbing his hand boldly. We hadn’t spoken since the weekend, but it was safe to say, I was pleasantly surprised with how he was acting. If he was my guard dog for at least half the year, then senior year would be easy to get through. Once I fixed things with Bev, the love of my life, that is.

We walked down the halls, and I didn’t feel as anxious as usual. In fact, Henry made me feel rather safe; people were making way for us, and I realized I had the ultimate school protection. I really got lucky with winning the guy over just enough to make him interested.

We paused outside the lab, and I turned to Henry, sending him a sweet smile. “Thanks for earlier. Try to attend some of your classes today, ‘kay?”

“Shut the fuck up, no —“

I shut him up with a simple kiss on the cheek. It sufficiently made him shut his trap, so afterwards, while he was recovering from the affection, I walked into class, a pep in my step.

~~~

The moment the final morning bell rang, I was on a mission - to find my best friend and set things straight. Because I’d be damned if I didn’t explain the tactical genius of dating the worst person in school. And how… surprisingly nice he’d been since he declared me as his girlfriend, even if it had only been three days.

I packed up my things exuberantly and headed for the door. I mixed in the crowd. However, the moment I emerged, Henry’s tall, bulky body stood sun the way. A few people complained about his disturbance, but Henry didn’t care, as he grabbed my arm and began steering me down the hallway.

“Woah, at least let me get my lunch first!” I complained, tugging myself free.

Henry sent me an annoyed glare, already frowning. “Fuckin’ fine. But you’re eating with us, got it?”

“Well, um, sure, but can’t I find Bev first?” I requested.

“No.”

“Rude. She’s my best friend.”

“Uh-huh, she’d be fuckin’ ecstatic to sit with Patrick,” he snickered.

“Oh… that’s true,” I agreed reluctantly. “Still, I need to talk to her at some point.”

“That’s not my fucking problem, bitch.”

We arrived at my locker. I noticed how people made way for us, even though I was only with Henry. ‘Only Henry,’ yeah, the most terrifying dude on school. I had to remind myself of that with how… casual he was. He wasn’t nice, per se, but he wasn’t mean either. Just normal.

I placed my stuff inside and pulled out my lunchbox. I noticed Henry didn’t have any of his things, so I sent him a questioning glance as we walked. “Don’t ya have lunch?”

Henry paused, eating his gaze to the ground, almost embarrassed. “I don’t got any.”

I sighed, intertwining our arms, as we exited to the parking lot. “Do you never have any lunch? Doesn’t your dad give you any?”

“Nah. My dad’s a dick,” he replied curtly.

“Huh. Luckily for you, I brought extra, since Bev usually likes to have a slice of my sandwich, ‘kay?”

We approached the car. I could’ve sworn I heard a ‘thanks’ mumbled under his breath, but the conversation was cut short. Belch, Victor, and Patrick were leaning against the back, talking, but they noticed us and stopped. I sent them a wave, and Henry’s arm became less tense.

“Do the rest of yins have lunch?” I inquired, tilting my head. Henry wrapped an arm loosely around my waist, pulling me to the side of the car. I leaned against him.

“No —“ Belch started.

Victor smacked his arm. “Shut up, liar. You already had lunch at seven-eleven.”

Patrick snickered. “Can’t blame him. He doesn’t have a rich ma to spoil him like a certain fuckin’ mama’s boy.”

I sighed as the boys bickered further. Henry was fairly quiet. I moved past him and set my lunchbox on the car. I got out my grilled cheese sandwich and hand Henry a slice.

“I’m a master chef, I’ll have you know. You should feel honored,” I joked.

Henry stole it from me, sending me a brooding glare. “It looks like shit.”

Patrick butted in teasingly,” Stop being fuckin’ rude, dude. If you don’t watch it, I’ll steal your cute little girlfriend.” He took some of my apple slices.

“No way.  You like her slut friend way more,” Victor rebuked.

“Yeah, but only if she can suck my dick —“

“Boys,” I boomed,” I don’t appreciate you using derogatory terms when talking about my best friend. So shut the hell up. And Belch, thank you for being goddamn decent. Have some food.”

“You ain’t got the fuckin’ right to boss us around, bitch,” Henry intervened, still chewing on his food.

“Oops, looks like I just did. You shouldn’t talk with you mouth full, my man.” I tossed Belch my lunchbox.

“Fuck yeah, thanks,” Belch chuckled, digging in.

My appetite had sufficiently disappeared as my thoughts turned to Bev. I scanned the parking lot, then the courtyard, then the outskirts. But I wasn’t able to spot her dazzling red-headed figure at all. I had a hunch she was at the bathroom, though; she always went there to smoke when she was stressed from bullies.

“The fuck you lookin’ at, bitch?” Henry asked, staring daggers at me.

I sent a playful glare. “I haven’t mentioned how much I hate that nickname yet, have I?” I mumbled. “I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll be back.”

Henry grunted, and Belch - he was certainly my favorite, sine he was a perfectly fine dude - sent me a wave, which I reciprocated. I walked back into the school building. The halls were vacant. However, as I approached the bathroom, I noticed that Greta Bowie and her minions were entering as well.

Damn. Guess I’d have to break my bestie out. If there was anything that made high school worse for me than the Bowers gang did, it was her. Not because she was particularly mean to me, but god, it hurt me more to see Bev being bullied. I’d rather take the brunt of the force than see her sad.

I entered the bathroom, a newfound confidence instilled in me. I knew that even if I wasn’t intimidating, Henry sure as hell was - and so long as he was somewhat interested in me, and was willing to pull off what he did earlier and more, Greta would get what was coming to her if she bothered Bev again.

“Hey! We know you’re in there, slut!” Greta shouted. I gasped as I realized her two friends were picking up the trash bin and filling it with water.

“Greta,” I exclaimed angrily. “You better back the fuck down if you know what’s good for you.”

The girls carried the bin over to the shut stall door. Greta turned to me, an ugly sneer dawning her sadistic expression. “The fuck you gonna do about it, huh? You’re just as much of a skank. You’re damn lucky you aren’t in the stall, either.”

“Y/n! You should go,” Bev’s meek voice called out, but it only fueled my anger more.

Usually, I’d be anxious as hell. But Bev needed me, and this time, I had backup. “The fuck I’m going to do is tell my boyfriend, Henry Bowers, that your ugly ass needs a beating. A permanent one,” I threatened, stepping closer.

The two girls paused their movements, having been in the middle of picking up the trash bag to lift over the stall. They looked at Greta, who was glaring daggers at me. She sauntered towards me, and I couldn’t help but tremble slightly.

“Heh. I always knew you were a whore. But you’re delusional too,” she mocked, her face only centimeters from mine. “So, let me get it straight. You sucked Henry Bowers off and now you’re pretending that, aw, someone might love you! You, a small, pathetic little slut. But believe me, you are not dating Henry Bowers, so don’t even pretend.”

“Oh, you have no idea what’s coming, skank,” I cackled haughtily, pushing at her chest. “You’re just asking for your life to become hell. Hurt Bev - no, hurt me. I dare you.”

Greta let out three ‘ha’s in my face. “Girls,” she ordered,” let’s show this bitch where she belongs. In the trash.”

I went to push her away, but Greta shoved me first, sending me against the sink. I yelped, slipping on a puddle of water. I ended up hitting my head on the sink while falling to the floor, causing my vision to blur. Oh my god, I hurt so much, ow, ow, ow —

Suddenly, water seeped into my nose and mouth. I breathed it in out of surprise, my entire body being bathed in cold water and trash. I coughed and heaved, black dots popping in and out of my sight. I sat on my knees and bent over. I coughed, and coughed, and coughed, only vaguely aware of Greta and her minions filtering out of the bathroom.

I had a crazy bad headache. Oh, death, please take me now. I couldn’t stand it. I was cold, dirty, wet, and possibly bleeding somewhere. But it was for Bev. After I was done heaving, I looked up. And there was Bev, as heavenly as always. She was crying.

She reached out and rubbing my back, pushing trash off me. “I’m so sorry for not meeting you at lunch, Y/n! And for being so mean earlier. I should’ve listened to you, you’re my best friend. And it should’ve been me that ended up messy, but here you are - ! Oh dear, you’re going to get sick —“

“Bev, Bev,” I stuttered, trying to calm the girl down. “It’s fine, really. It’s worse to see you get hurt, I swear it. If I get sick, it’s worth it, okay? I just hate seeing them pick on - “ I coughed. - “you.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, goodness, Y/n, you’re too good for me! You truly are the best friend I’ve ever had.” And then, despite my filthy state, she enveloped me in a tight, warm hug.

“I would hug you back, but, you know,” I laughed, my throat a bit sore from being half-waterboarded. “The only thing you can do to make it up to me, though, is please listen to me about Henry and his friends. I’ll tell you everything. I know you’ll agree with what I think.”

“Fine. I’ll even come meet them officially, if needed. After what Greta just did… I definitely think she needs someone to shrink that ego of her’s.”

#yandere #yandere slashers #henry bowers #bowers gang #yandere it #it x reader #it movie #pennywise #it 2017 #it chapter two #x reader #x y/n #x you #self insert #one shot

[boldlyvoid]

Wheels Up

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez

Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...

Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 9.4K

a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.

To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.

He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.

And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.

“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”

But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.

It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.

He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…

“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.

He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”

“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”

“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.

“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”

“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”

“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”

“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”

“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”

“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”

“Of course.”

That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.

They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.

“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”

“Why?”

She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”

“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.

“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.

His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”

She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”

She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”

Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”

“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”

“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”

She nods, “I know, I get that.”

“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”

“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”

He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.

She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.

She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.

She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.

Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.

When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.

Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.

And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.

She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.

Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.

Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.

The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.

They were too cool for the feds.

“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”

“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.

She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.

“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”

“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”

“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”

Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.

“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”

“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.

“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.

She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.

“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”

She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.

“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”

She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”

“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”

She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”

“Which is?”

She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

—

He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.

“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.

“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”

“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”

“When did you hear that?”

Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.

“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”

“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.

“So you do have a crush on me?”

“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”

“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”

Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.

“Y/N?”

She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”

He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”

She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.

It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.

“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”

“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”

“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”

“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”

“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.

“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away

“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.

—

“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”

Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”

She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”

“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”

“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”

“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.

He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.

“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.

“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.

“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”

He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”

She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”

“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”

“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.

“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”

“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”

He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.

He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”

“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.

He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”

“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”

“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”

“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”

“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.

She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.

The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.

He was everything to her.

And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.

Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.

She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.

She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.

She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.

He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”

“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.

“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”

“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”

“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”

She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”

“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”

“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”

He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”

She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”

He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”

She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”

“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.

“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”

“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.

It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.

She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”

“What?” He worries.

“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”

“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.

—

At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.

“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you get laid or something?”

Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”

“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”

“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”

“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,” Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”

“Always—“

“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.

Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.

“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.

Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”

“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.

“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”

“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”

“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.

“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.

“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”

“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.

“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”

“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”

He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”

“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”

“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.

“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”

“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.

“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.

“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”

She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”

“It is,” Hotch agrees.

“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.

“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”

“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.

Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.

“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.

Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”

“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”

She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”

He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”

She laughs, “so be it.”

He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”

“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.

“Coward,” she teases.

He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.

She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”

“What do you want to know?”

“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”

“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.

“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.

“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”

“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”

“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”

“You love her,” Elle notices it.

He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”

“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”

—

She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.

He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”

“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”

“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.

“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.

“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.

Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”

“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.

“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”

“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”

“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.

“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.

He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”

Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.

“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.

She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”

“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”

She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.

“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”

She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”

“Necklaces are my favourite.”

“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.

He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”

She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”

“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.

“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”

“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.

Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.

“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”

“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.

“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”

“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”

Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”

“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.

“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.

“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”

Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.

“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.

The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.

“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.

She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”

“Oh…”

She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”

“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.

“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”

“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”

Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”

—

By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.

That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.

But then she found it.

A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.

“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.

They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.

“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.

“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.

Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”

“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”

She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”

“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.

“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.

“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”

They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”

“Okay?” Elle follows.

“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”

“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”

Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”

“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”

“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.

Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I just have a hug real quick?”

“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”

She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”

“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.

“Kisses are helpful too?”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”

She hums, “10?”

He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.

“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.

She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”

“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”

She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”

Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”

He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“

They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”

“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.

Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.

His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.

“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”

Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”

“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.

“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.

“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”

“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.

“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”

“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”

“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.

“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”

“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

—

Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.

And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.

She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.

“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.

“Yeah, what happened?”

“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.

She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.

He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”

She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”

“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.

One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replies.

The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.

“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”

“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.

Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.

“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”

“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”

“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.

“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.

She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”

“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.

“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.

“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.

When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”

She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”

“He’s going with you?”

She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”

“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”

“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.

“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“me too,” he barely says.

He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?

She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.

She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”

“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”

She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”

Permanent tag list

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[bangtanfancamp]

Champagne Silk | KNJ

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⋅summary: Almost year ago, you became the arranged bride of the most powerful man in the city, Kim Namjoon, but this morning, with you, he’s just a man who’s head over heels for you who can’t help getting lost thinking about his future with you.

Alternatively: no matter how powerful a man Namjoon is, he is still a klutz in the kitchen. A sexy klutz though.

⋅ author’s masterlist

⋅part two of the Silk series ( read part 1 here)

⋅also the second installment of breakfast with bangtan series (masterlist here)

⋅pairing: mafia!namjoon x reader

⋅genre: mafia! au, arranged marriage! Au, smut, fluff, angst, established relationship

⋅word count: 15.5k words

⋅rating: mature

⋅warnings: a generous amount of consensual sexual activities 🙃, brief scene of oral sex, impregnation kink, a shared bath tub, multiple instances of christiana being uncomfortable with using proper technical names for genitalia and being intentionally ambiguous instead. (honestly it’s more tame and wholesome than you think but god, if these two aren’t hot for each other )

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“Damn it.” 

The sound comes rumpled from the other side of the kitchen, like someone’s trying to keep it hidden. It’s so subdued and muttered that around anyone else, it might have been successfully hidden. But not right now. And certainly not with you. Because you know the distinct, adorable huff of your husband’s regret in an instant.

“You all right over there, darling?” There’s an innocence in your voice to hide your humor.

“Promise you won’t laugh if I tell you?” 

“Oh, unfortunately I can do no such thing, my love. You’ll just have to brave the odds and tell me.” 

Your smile is benevolent, but unyielding. You politely, pleasantly even, refuse to give him another option, and he knows it. It’s that simple. Even with his back to you, he knows the jig is up. As he hunches with heavy shoulders, he sighs and mutters something too low for you to pick up at first.

“Once more for the people in the back, yeah?” You tease.

“I said, I spilled wine on everything,” he exhales. 

His voice is tinged in shades of caramel, rich with resignation, as he confesses, stepping aside so you can see the mess he’s made. 

“Oh, Joon.” 

A terribly bright fondness pulls your lips into a smile as your clumsy giant sheepishly ducks his head across the room. His once pristine white shirt, his linen pants and your white antique tablecloth are all freshly dip dyed in swirls of Pinot Grigio and rosé.

“I know. I know. You don’t have to say it.” His eyes flit down to the stack of too many wine glasses slotted between his large fingers that have spilled their bounty across every available fabric surface.

“You have no idea what I’m about to say,” you point out graciously.

Crossing the room, you tip up on your toes to press a tender kiss to the spots where his jolly dimples would show if he weren’t so flustered. 

“MmmHmm. Sure I don’t.” He squints at you while you slip one glass at a time out of his grip and reach for a cloth.

“Precisely. You shouldn’t assume, Namjoon. You know what they say.” You smirk, wetting the cloth with water you know will be too frigid for him to stand in this half asleep state he’s in, but the stains have got to go.

“And what exactly do they say?” His large palms dip to rest on his hips as he braces for your commentary.

“Simply that assumptions only make an ass out of you and me so…”

His nose scrunches in distaste, even as he starts to laugh. “What a beastly phrase. I forget how much delicacy Americans have.” 

“Oh heaps of it. More than they know what to do with, really.” You shrug as you wring out the cloth. “Positively genteel. Is that not why you chose to marry one?” You add with a wry smile.

Glancing down at the bands on your finger, you warm at the way they glisten in the bits of lazy Sunday light filtering through the window. Namjoon’s glints golden across the room as he waits for your rescue. Both still new enough to feel like a novelty. Enough to make a small light inside you beam with pride whenever you catch sight of it.

“I chose to marry the only one I could find who was quick enough to get the stains I make out before they set and sweet enough not to give me grief for it.” He arches an eyebrow down at you in challenge as you slip one hand past the deeply undone row of buttons on his shirt to pull the fabric up and away from his skin as you begin to gently blot at the wine.

“Oh no. Well, I hate to inform you of this, but unfortunately, I’m actually 0 for 2 in those qualifications. But I will sincerely try my best since you’ve placed so much trust in me.” You chuckle as you set to work. “Would it be helpful if I mention what a smart wife you have to have ixnayed buying that cabernet sauvignon you wanted so badly, especially given your current predicament?”

Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dipping to press his nose against your own while shaking his head. 

“No. Not in the slightest.”

“See? That’s good to know. Would have been awful if I mentioned the Merlot I put back too then. Can you imagine? Could have been so unseamly.”

He laughs, smiling against your hairline. “Well, what would have been the point of whisking my bride all the way out to a little villa in wine country and inviting guests only to not serve them red wine?”

“The point would have been you not turning into the kool-aid man whenever said wine inevitably spilled all over you. Case in point.” You look up at him through wide, fluttered lashes as you press the icy cold cloth against a particularly bold splatter on his chest. The frigid water grazes his nipple through his thin shirt and your giant of a man winces like he was wounded on the playground.

“Hey, that’s freezing.” He moves to swat your hand away. 

“Would you rather just take this off then? So I can work properly,” You smirk.

“No,” he sighs. “That would just be colder.” 

He looks so adorable right now. The lavender locks you’d once loved so well have been replaced, faded into a dusty blonde instead. His thick hair, usually coiffed so neatly, so perfectly, is currently disheveled entirely. Bits that had been gently curated to frame his face the night before are now plastered to his forehead, others shooting off at odd angles, all from falling asleep on the couch beside you once your dinner guests finally left late last night. 

He’s still in last night's now stained and rumpled clothes, still looking absolutely divine with the sleeves cuffed against his elegant forearms and his now wide open neckline thanks to the buttons undone all the way down past his rib cage.

His body is every bit a grown man, but his sleepy features- those wide eyes and pouted lips- make him look every bit the little boy you saw once in his mothers photo albums the week of the wedding. Big Namjoon still makes the same faces when he makes a mess as little Namjoon, and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

“Don’t be such a weenie,” you tease. 

“Careful who you tease, woman. You’re the only one in this city who forgets how many people are afraid of me.”

“This city is half a day’s drive away. There’s no one to fear you here,Joonie. Besides, your enemies have clearly never seen how quickly you’d fall in a battle against the cold or else you would have been displaced ages ago,” you tease with a twinkle in your eyes as he narrows his at you.

“I don’t think you’d like ice water on your breasts first thing in the morning either.” He huffs under his breath.

“You never know til you try,” you wink.

“Would you like to try?” His eyes rake over you salaciously despite the tenderness in his smile. 

“No, I can’t say that I do,” you chuckle, pushing a palm against his chest. “Besides, it’s hardly first thing in the morning, Joon. It’s almost noon.” You nod toward the clock.

There’s still sleep in his voice when he laughs, the sounds rich and resonant where it blooms from his chest. “Well, it’s still morning for me when we didn’t fall asleep til well after 3 because our guests don’t know when to leave.”

You smile to yourself at the memory of time spent with your friends. Well, more accurately Namjoon’s friends, i.e. the members of his crew who have become like family to both of you. Namjoon’s been on the move so much with work lately that there’s been no time to simply sit and enjoy their company. You were in raptures when he suggested they join you for dinner last night.

“It was so good to see Hoseok and Jungkookie though. Their new girlfriends seem so sweet.” 

Namjoon’s gaze seems far off somewhere as he listens to you.“They do, don’t they? JK’s seemed spunky too. She’s good for him.” 

“I think so too. He spent half the night blushing- he was so happy. It was good to see him so over the moon for once, that little romantic.”

Namjoon smiles, a soft thing nestled in the pocket of his cheek, full of fondness for the youngest of his friends. “Yeah, I’m glad he finally found someone so good for him.” 

Pulling you in, he kisses you gently, once, twice before pressing his lips to the top of your forehead, an unspoken “as good as you are for me” hidden his warm brown eyes.

“Big softie,” you whisper, reaching up to cradle his face, thumb brushing over his cheeks. He tips his face toward your palm to plant a kiss there too, his lips just brushing the inside of your wedding band as you smile.

“For you? Always.”

“For me? It was the food last night. God, That charcuterie board Jin brought was positively masterful.” The memory alone has your mouth watering. “Such a shame it was all gone so soon though.”

“Ooo, speaking of,” Namjoon slips out of your grip to rustle around in the kitchen behind you. “Not quite.” 

“What did you do?” You narrow your eyes at him as you settle into a wooden chair to start tending to the swirling stains on the tablecloth.

“Oh, the best thing. Husband of the year level best thing.”

“Husband of the year? Can't wait to see this then. Very moderate expectations, indeed.”

With his back to you, you can’t see what he’s up to, but you can certainly hear it. Especially the low grunt when his hip snags on the new island counter. This poor man was clearly made for a different life than this old world kitchen provides. You wonder which will go first, your husband or the architectural detail. You chuckle to yourself until you realize exactly what it is he’s carrying.

“Kim Namjoon, is that-?”

“A mini stolen charcuterie board? You bet it is,” he winks your way, and a storm of winged things flutter in your stomach.

“How did you even-“

“When you had everyone gathered in the backyard, and Jimin tripped over the cord for the string lights.”

“I’ll never know how such a graceful man can cause such disasters. Or how you managed to befriend the only other man on earth as poised and clumsy as you all at once,” you chuckle, stealing a fig from the corner of the board as he peels back the plastic film covering it. “Oh my god, that’s so good.”

“Mmm Hmm. I knew you thought so,” he taps you on the nose lovingly. “You always ask Jin to make these for you, and then you’re always so sad when all twelve people you invite make it vanish in half an hour.”

“I know. I know. It would go farther if there were fewer people to share it with, but Joon, the boys are like family. I haven’t seen them all together in so long. I couldn’t bear to leave anyone out.”

There’s a twinkle glinting in his eyes as he smiles down at you. He’s glad to see how soft your heart somehow remains despite the life you both lead. 

“Which is precisely why I took the liberty of stashing some of this bounty away while the guests were busy and saving it for you.” 

When he smiles at you like that, all softened edges and warm brown eyes, it’s impossible not to fall in love with him all over again. It’s not like you’ve forgotten how kind he is or how striking he can be when he smiles. It’s simply that the more you see it, the more in love you become.

Rising up in your chair, you reach across the table to tenderly cradle his cheek.

“I hate to say this, because then you’ll know you were right, but this is really is an excellent submission for husband of the year. I would like to point out, though, that you are welcome to make as many entries as you’d like before the panel comes to a consensus, you know.” 

He smiles so wide that his eyes get lost in their beautifully crinkled edges. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, they do say that you should play toward the judge’s preferences. Would you happen to know any? To help me get that inside edge.”

“Now, now. I can’t help you cheat. You’ll have to conduct your own research.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. We have a strict moral code. They’d ruin me if I let that sort of intel slip.” You tilt your chin up in defiance despite your smirk and laughing eyes.

“Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Shame. I really thought this was going to be my year.”

“Do you really think the only way you’d win is to cheat? Come now...it can still be your year if you play your cards right.”

Your hand drifts up to his carelessly perfect hair, fingers gliding through it and tugging a bit near his scalp. One of his favorite ways to receive affection you’ve found out this past year. His lids fall heavy before he can catch them, a small hiss catching behind his teeth that means you’ve done it right.

“Careful. You don’t know what you might be starting.” His eyes wander the edges of your lips, trace the frame of your collarbone.

“I’d never take the risk if I wasn’t ready to face the consequences.” The twist of your lips is subtle, as gentle as the seduction you’ve learned is your forte. 

Namjoon licks his lips, the lower one snagging in his teeth as his eyes drift over you. Without breaking his gaze, he takes a champagne grape from the board and lifts it to your lips. You can feel your pulse flutter and quicken beneath your skin. It always does when he eyes you like that.

The man might as well be a snake charmer for all the control you feel like you have over yourself right now as your mouth parts of its own accord for him. But just before the fruit can graze your lips, his grin widens- wicked with delight- as he decides to pop it in his own mouth instead.

His dimples are so deep as he laughs at your flustered state that you wish you could crawl inside them and hide.

“Ha Ha. Very funny, Joon. Tease the woman you claim to love. Excellent way to keep a happy wife.” 

Rolling your eyes, you push off from the table, fully intent on doing... you have no idea what, exactly. All you know is that you need to get away from this table as fast as you can before you knock the carefully preserved remnants of this charcuterie board to the floor and take him on the table.

 The blush that was rushing to your cheeks is now crashing in your ears and all you can think to do is “go,” but before you can get even half a step too far, Namjoon’s warm, impossibly large hand is already wrapping itself around your wrist and grounding you to your spot.

“All I want is a happy wife,” he laughs. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I thought I made that pretty clear from the first day.”

Slowly, he stands as his hand trails its way down to dance across your palm before lacing your fingers with his. 

“Certainly doesn’t feel like it right now,” you pout, despite the excitement thrumming in your veins. You know that look on his face now. The one that’s evil and beautiful, sincere and serpentine. The one that wants to devour you playfully. To love you even as he ruins you.

“Oh no,” he tsks. “That won’t do.” 

Suddenly, he snaps you to him, his hands fastening themselves to the dip in your waist. You gasp, the force making you brace against his smooth, exposed chest to catch yourself.

“It won’t?” Your voice comes out airy, too thin, as the morning breeze billows through the open windows. 

“No. Not at all. So I wanna know: how can I fix this, baby?” His eyes are possessed by something wicked as one hand leaves your waist to trace a thumb over your parted mouth.

“I- I”

“Shh, I made this mistake. I’ll make it right.” He arches a single brow as his tongue wets his lips, and your brain loses any grip on rational thinking.

“And h-how do you plan to do that?” It’s a whisper- too breathy, too barely coherent. His hands are so warm. His touch is like lightning and suddenly even breathing requires too much energy with the way you feel like you’ve shorted out.

“I don’t know. You tell me, baby.” His knuckle tips it’s way under your chin, tilting your face up to his as you follow in obedience.

“But… I thought… I told you. The judge can’t help.” You swallow, lashes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips.

“Then she can’t get what she wants,” he challenges.

“Fair enough. That’s fair.” Your head bobbles in assent. 

“So I’ll try this again,” his face dips down until his mouth rests just below your ear. “What do you want, baby?”

You feel lightheaded as you melt in hands, rushing out the words, “Counter. Now. Please.”

 Your expression folds in on itself in satisfaction when Namjoon grips you around the waist and plants you on the kitchen island without a moment's hesitation. You gasp, airy and quick, before his palm is fitted against the curve of your throat with just the amount of pressure he’s learned that you like.

“Good girl. Open your legs for me, baby.”

A muffled inhale later, your knees have parted where you’re sat on the island and Namjoon is fitted between them, his hips to the counter as he kisses you in earnest. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp as his tongue and open mouth work their way down your throat, painting wide open blossoms of scarlet and blush along the way. Your hands are in his hair, at his scalp, tugging and grabbing to bring him back to your kiss. His taste is tinged salty and sweet from your skin and the grapes, and your thighs wrap themselves tight around the narrow slope of him.

He’s gotten so broad since the wedding day. If you had trouble composing yourself around him then god only knows how you’ve survived the past year. His shoulders seem wider, his arms more substantial, his chest impossibly inviting as you claw at the last remaining buttons of his dress shirt. 

“Off. Off. Take this off.” You push at the sleeves that bunch around the arcs of his newly swollen biceps, taking a moment to drink in how beautiful they are as you clutch at his golden skin. 

“So eager now. What happened to my shy girl?” His voice is teasing, light, but his eyes look proud of you.

“You did things like this to her, and now she can’t get enough.” Your mouth fits itself to the beautiful stretch of bare skin beneath his ear, suckling the indescribable taste of him before traveling down his throat and across his jaw.

He laughs, something deep and melodic, before his fingers begin to glide over your collarbone and dance over your arms, featherlight, like he always does when he’s trying to rile you up.

“Should I get this out of our way then?” His fingers tug at the slim straps of your champagne blush dress. You’d worn it especially for him at last night’s party. You’d never forgotten his affinity for your skin draped in silk.

“Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I do, baby. It’s perfect.”

“Then why do you want me to take it off?”

 Your voice is sticky sweet with innocence, but Namjoon knows better. He doesn’t know where you got the wherewithal to tease him right now as he holds you pressed against his growing warmth, but when your eyes flick to his, he knows you’ve made the right choice. He likes it when you challenge him. It makes it more fun when he wins.

“So I can do this,” he grins with a flash of his teeth.

Without missing a beat, he’s slipped both straps clean off your shoulders, leaving the dress to pool around your hips, and scoops one of your soft breasts gently into his mouth. Your breath comes sharp, a stuttered, inhaled moan that tastes as sweet to him as the ripened figs on the tray. Deliciously priceless. 

He still can’t get over you. He doesn’t think he ever could. He’s never reached a point where the sounds you make fail to set his world ablaze. He’d like nothing more than to make drawing them out of you every morning just like this his sole profession.

Reverently, his other hand brushes up your side to cradle your other breast beside it. God, they’re so soft. Namjoon is almost ashamed to admit how infatuated he is with your breasts.  It would be embarrassing if you weren’t equally in love with receiving all the attention he gives them.

What can he say? He’s a simple man. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to him and for him? They’re perfect. Even with all the exploration the two of you have shared this past year, he knows this part of your body has got to be his favorite- your skin there is so velvet smooth and supple, so delicately sensitive, so perfectly sized for him to devour to his heart's content.

As his tongue warms the tender skin of your nipple with affection, and his thumb steadily plays with the other, he feels the muscled grip of your thighs tighten against him. The sounds you make for him as you clutch at the edge of the granite might as well be a symphony. He loves you like this. Wild and coming undone at his touch and attention. No one in the world but you and him.

“J-joon, baby.. I-“

Looking up at you through heavy eyes, entirely impressed with himself, he smiles and flicks his tongue against you again. When the jolt makes you jump, he stands to his full height above you, and sets his hands back on your sides.

“What is it, baby? You have to tell me.”

Your brows crumple in softly as you look up at him through your lashes. If you could speak, you would, but the way he plays you like an instrument with no effort at all always seems to dispose of your grace.

“But Namjoon…”  you’re trying and failing to catch your breath as both his thumbs come to lazily torment the soft swells of your chest. 

“You know what you like. You know what you want. Just tell me.”

You’ve barely got enough breath to function as it is, let alone to form a sentence. “But baby, I can’t…”

“Then I’m afraid you can’t have it.” He tuts. “Not if you can’t ask.” 

His grin is wicked, and as much you want to drown in it, something in you wants to wipe it off his pretty face.

“Not… fair…”

He runs his tongue over his teeth as he smiles.

“Really? Because to me, what’s not fair,” he grips your hips, snatching you forward that last little inch to sit snug against his hips, “is me giving you a prize you haven’t earned.”

His hands dip to cup the curve of your backside,

his fingers digging deep into the silk and softness he finds there as he continues.

“ What’s not fair is the way you teased me in this little dress last night when you knew there would be too many people around for me to enjoy it properly…”

Dipping down, his sumptuous lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What seeing you in this dress all night did to me?”  

As yet another lightheaded gasp leaves your lips, a dark, satisfied chuckle leaves his. 

“H-how would I know?” your air comes in shaky as he has his way with you

“You know, baby girl. You always know.”

 As his fingers dip firmly into the globes of your backside, he begins gently, just barely, rocking against you. No hurry. No fuss. Just maddening, slow pressure as he grazes you. When an airy moan comes whimpering from your lips, his strong hands tense, keeping your hips too fixed to succumb to moving with him.

“But you didn’t... say anything.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his face lowers toward yours. You can feel the brush of his lips ghosting over the edges of your cheek, his nose tracing against your skin.

“Don’t act like you couldn’t tell. You know silk always does me in.”

His fingers slip across your stomach where your dress has pooled to rest. They ghost like a whisper over your hips and down your legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He fits his hands against your skin and drags them up achingly slowly, willing his touch to memorize the feel of your skin along the way as he pushes the fabric up inch by merciless inch- all while never stopping the insatiable way his lips move warm against yours.

His touch and his kiss are languid, unhurried, as he sets you on fire. When he reaches your thighs, his palms splay across them, his thumbs dragging along the inner swell of your legs as your vision begins to blur. 

He’s taking his time. He’s teasing you and enjoying it. It’s evident in the way he slows down the higher he gets. The way his mouth begins to travel down your throat in kisses so soft, so divinely sweet, that you swear you’re growing lightheaded from the swelling rush of pleasure.

His thumbs have made their way to the folds of your hips, his hands hidden beneath the fabric as your body lights up electric at his touch. Like if it shines bright enough for him, he might bless it with all that you know he is capable of. But even though he knows you’re more than willing, your tease doesnt satiate your body or her cravings for him just yet.

Instead, he slows down further. He fits his hands on the outer edges of your hip while his kisses turn gentle, calming, resolving, as if he has no intention of following through further after riling you up like this.

“What are you— why are you stopping?” Your eyes flit between his, a subtle , whining irritation building up beside your impatience when he doesn’t move. He’s quiet at first, in no rush to answer. As his beautiful face hovers over you, he's so smug you almost want to slap him for toying with you like this. 

But that won’t get you what you want. What you need. So Instead, you take one of his hands and press it to your breast as you guide the other toward the center of you.

He plays along at first, until his fingers are about to brush the part of you that’s positively tingling for his touch, and he abruptly pulls back, resting both of his hands on the countertop on either side of you.

“Ah, ah. That’s for when you use your words, my sweet.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and suddenly, you’ve never been more greedy or more furious. 

Snatching at his waistband, you pull his hips forward and slip your hand over the linen to hold him. His breath catches at the back of his throat, and his eyes go wide, dumbfounded at the shift in power.

“And I said, the judge can’t tell you the answers.”

You level him with a look of quiet confidence as your fingers slip between his skin and the linen to hold him where he wants you most. His brows tip into softened u’s as the coolness of your touch brushes against him.

“Husband of the year should know what I want by now. I shouldn't have to tell him.”

You grasp him, fingers running delicately up the underside of him at the same time that you lick into his mouth. You feel him dip a bit as his knees buckle, making his hands on the counter the only thing holding him up.

“Mother of god,” he mumbles, even as his hips move in compliance with your touch. “Where did you learn that?”

“From the best,” you beam. Your smile is genuine, sweet and blindingly bright. It makes him want to take a bite out of the apples of your cheek, so he does. A playful nip that has you giggling and him pressing his lips together in fondness. 

The moment is sweet, until you catch his eyes with that same saccharine smile on your face, and take your hand away. His mouth opens, about to protest, until he watches you run your tongue in a long, slow stripe up your fingers before reaching back down behind his waistband to run the wet digits over his heated skin as you grasp him.

“Oh my… fuuuuck,” he exhales, his weight dropping to press into the counter. His face dips to lean against yours as he struggles to stay lucid. This feels so good, so out of nowhere, that his body is bursting to life more rapidly that he can keep up with. 

With every movement you make, he moves with you, gasping through his open mouth with every touch as he tries to keep his composure. Leaning into your forehead, he feels his nose bumping against yours as he searches for air. He feels nearly lightheaded but god, you’re incredible. Your touch feels so good- he never wants you to stop. 

Still, he wants control back though. To make you as much of a mewling mess as you’re currently making of him. He was enjoying the game you were both playing before, but he likes the feeling of winning more. However, just when he thinks he’s got a way to get the upper hand back, you ever so lightly twist your grip as you pump him, and suddenly, he can’t tell if he’s dying, ascending or blacking out. 

It feels so good so fast that he can barely remember his own name, let alone stage a coup. Your fingertips gently play with the tip of him at the top of each swell in your fluid flourish, and suddenly he can’t think of anything else to do with all this bursting excess inside of him but to kiss you. So he does. Open mouthed. Sloppy. Full of want. It feels so incredible that you can’t help but laugh brightly into his mouth, ethereally elegant, even as you wreck him. 

As you work, he can feel the way he’s growing harder with your attention, the way his blood feels like it’s singing the longer you touch him. His hips are obeying you like they belong to you, and at this point, he’s pretty sure they do. His mouth is painting your throat, adding swathes of crimson to the blooms he made before until your neck is colored with an entire bouquet of his affection. 

When he closes his eyes, the light behind them sparkles with effervescence as he listens to the quickness of your breath as you work. The sounds, the moans, the gasps you make as you touch him mingle with sounds of early morning nature and Namjoon wonders if this was what the poets meant when they described paradise. 

Pleasure is cresting over him in warm, molten waves now, and as it builds, he realizes he was wrong.

That as much as he loves your luminous eyes, your serene smile, the softness of your breasts, that those aren’t truly his favorite part of you if he’s honest. At least not right now. Not in moments like these. Because right now, with your hand wrapped around him, wrecking him with craving, that title is held by the treasure between your thighs; and as the blood rushes away from the rest of his body and swells where your hand lies, all he can think of, all he wants, is to bury himself in the wet, velvet warmth of you and never leave.

If he doesn’t get you naked with him inside you within the next three seconds, he thinks he might die.

So he does something about it.

“Open, baby. Open your legs for me,” he demands. It’s firm, commanding, but his eyes are so full of needy want that it’s hard to say who’s really in charge right now. 

Pushing your hand away and placing it on his chest, Namjoon kicks down his linen trousers and slides up your dress as you obey. He springs out, the length of him pressing into the meat of your thigh. It has you whimpering before you can catch yourself.

“God, I knew you were a smart boy. You’d figure it out eventually,” your voice is teasing, but your face is so dizzy, so desperate for him, that he could give you the whole world if you asked.

“You ready for me, baby?” His eyes are half blown with lust, his lashes hanging heavy as he runs his fingers over your opening, before collapsing against your shoulder. “ Oh my god.”

“What is it, Joon?”

“Nothing. I just,” he chuckles once, “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how wet you get for me.”

With no hesitation, he slips two fingers inside you as your belly contracts. Gasping his name, you can’t help but cling to him as light shoots through your body at the incredibly welcome feeling of his hands there.

“Nam- Namjoon, ah!” Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you can feel your nails dig into his sturdy flesh as he begins rocking you with a motion so good, so fluid you fear you may simply float away and never touch the ground again.

“Yes, baby? What is it?” 

“You. I want you. Please.”

“You have me, baby.” His teeth are gritted in focus as he works you, his brow dipped low as he watches how easily you come undone with his attention. Warmth gushes over his fingers as he feels your walls contract in tandem with the tug of your hands in his hair. The sting is sharp and sublime as you grasp him tight with every part of you.

“Inside. Come inside. Need you. Now,” you plead. Your other hand trickles down his torso to the soft hair above his member before holding him firmly with a twist of your hand. He moans, hips canting into your delicate palm.

Namjoon doesn’t need to be told twice. Slipping his fingers out of the way, he scoops you safely to the edge of the island, one large hand stroking himself and guiding him to line up with your eager entrance.

The essence of you coats the tip of him without any effort, your body unfolding, so relaxed for him, as he easily begins to slip inside you. It’s so abundant that the slide is effortless, helping him bottom out almost immediately within you. Your head falls back in wonder as he does, your hands quickly planting against the cold counter to catch you. 

Wow. God, Namjoon’s body always has a tendency to overwhelm you, no matter how many times you get caught up in each other like this. You still can’t get over that. Honestly, it would be impossible to when he’s built like he is. 

He’s broad everywhere- that’s obvious to anyone. But here, he’s long and thick, with thighs like tree trunks powering each movement as he glides inside you. Any other time, you might have needed his help to adjust, for him to take his time to warm you up, but this morning? Your body is ready for him, and he knows it. 

It’s unfolding itself for him like a bloom to the sun, and he’s reverent enough to return its worship. You’re so wet that he can feel it trickling down his hip as he pistons into you, and he regrets not dipping down to sample a taste of it before coming inside. But now that he’s here, there’s absolutely no way he’s leaving the warmth of your walls until you're both falling over and spent.

Your ankles are crossed behind him, pulling him as close as you can get him, and his face is pressed against your neck and collarbone as both your hips work in dizzy tandem. The sensation of it sends his consciousness swirling as the pressure in his abdomen builds.

He’s convinced now that you’re a real, actual goddess. There’s no way you could make him feel this divine if you weren’t. Your ambrosia coats his thickness, spilling over him as he thrusts harder, deeper, tilting his hips to curve against that spot inside you that—

“Oh! God! Joon,” you yelp. “Yes, don’t stop.”

His grin is infectious. You can feel it against your skin as you pull him tighter, rocking in time with him as your euphoria builds. Your laugh is bright, sparkling as he licks his fingers and slips them swirling over the sensitive burst between your legs. Your breath catches, his name and profanity tumbling from your lips in equal measure.

You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Your senses are on overload, your vision darkening around the edges as the pleasure he paints across your body escalates rapidly. Somewhere far off, you can hear his voice. His mouth is near your ear, his breath cooling your skin that’s become sticky with sweat, but you can’t understand, can’t wrap your brain around what he’s saying…

Until you realize that even fully coherent, you’d still be lost because your forever intoxicating husband has slipped back into his native tongue. You love it when this happens. With his senses so thoroughly drowning in you,  translating language just becomes too hard a thing to manage, so the harder and deeper he goes, the lower the bass in his voice becomes as he mumbles in korean against your ear.

You’ve learned enough to catch words like “beautiful” “perfect” and “God, I love you,” but the rest remain a mystery as he captures the innermost parts of your body for himself with swift, perfect strokes of his hips. The depth he’s reaching right now has you in raptures. It has your breath coming in short gasps as your breasts bounce buoyantly with each...incredible… thrust he delivers.

You won’t last much longer. You know it. And All you can think right now is how badly you want to look in his eyes when you come- which you know will happen any second now.

  Between his touch, his voice, the indescribable way he moves his hips when he’s inside you, and the crescendo you feel from the spot he’s internally caressing right now, you know you’re only moments away from dissolving into the atmosphere, yet all you want is more of him.

“Joon, baby, I’m so close. Look at me. Please,” you move one of the hands supporting you to hold his face and bring it to yours.

God, that please of yours. It flows so naturally from your lips when he has his way with you. He doesn’t know how to describe what it unleashes in him, but he knows it never fails to wreck him. “Shh, let go, baby girl. I’m right here. I got you.” 

Before he can think, he’s kissing you deeply, his tongue insatiable as he tastes you. He alternates between kissing you and pulling back to catch your eyes. The depth of affection in his gaze warms you brilliantly from the inside even as you swear you can practically feel his thrust against the underside of your lungs. 

His once seamless rhythm has become all feel and nuance. All order is long lost as he makes his last powerful dives into the depths of you. You can feel it- the tightness in his body, the firm set in his jaw, the profound depth of his voice as he praises your body in Korean. If you were to die like this, caught up in Namjoon’s impeccably loving, gracious body, you wouldn’t have a single regret.

There’s nothing more you could ask for. 

The glittering sensation pulsing through your body let’s you know it’s almost time to surrender, and you’re ready to come undone. Surely, there could be nothing more blissful than this— until Namjoon takes the hand he’s kept gripped around your waist and slips it up to your throat.

Your eyes go wide. 

He really was paying attention. Husband of the year, indeed. 

And just like that, the express trip to ecstasy nearly slams into your body. His eyes are locked on yours. He’s muttering a soft “good girl” and “that’s it, baby” as he works his powerful hips into you. He has one hand clamped firm and perfect below your jaw along your throat, and the other dancing elegantly along the bundle of nerves between your legs. He takes those fingers into his mouth to wet them, his face crumpling in a satisfied moan at the taste of you on his skin, before slipping them back where they belong. 

It’s altogether too much and you are lit up sparkling as the combined sensation of it all builds with the warmth of his body against you, within you. 

“Come for me, baby,” he says it clear and firm, his touch generous to help ease you over the edge. 

“Only if you come with me,” you breathe. Your eyes meet his as you try to find something to hold on to as the tension in you crests. 

He smiles then. All dimples and sweet eyes and perfect lips. He places a sweet kiss on your cheek beside your lips, and that’s all it takes to ruin you.

You feel your body contract around him in bliss as his name spills from your mouth. Making love to Namjoon has never felt commonplace, but there’s something about today. About him. About the sweetness of this morning in the middle of your perfect hidden home with him that makes you burst not only with pleasure, but with love. 

As your orgasm washes over you, you feel illuminated from within like the sun is glowing out of your skin as your body melts against him.

“I love you,” you whisper. “You’re so perfect.”

As your body floats back down from wherever you just astral projected from bliss, you can feel that his body is just a breath away from tipping over the edge itself. He’s pulling back, pulling out, intending to spill himself elsewhere, but in that instant, you realize you don’t want that.

Your memory flashes back to your wedding day. To the moment those hideous people decided to squawk about your child-rearing, heir-producing duty just hours after your vows, and Namjoon had cut them off immediately at the jump and whispered,” don’t pay them any mind. That happens when you’re ready. Not a second before,” soft against your ear. 

It was one of the first instances that made you realize what a good man he was. How willing he was to put your readiness, your comfort, before anyone or anything else. And now, as you take him in, as you remember how truly and deeply you love him, you realize you’re ready for there to be more.

You’ve had countless discussions with him about starting a family, and everytime, without missing a beat, his answer has always been, “whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.” 

You've come to learn over this past year that he’s wanted nothing more than to become a dad since he was a small boy.

You’ve gotten to witness how fun, gentle and gracious he is with his nephews. With Jimin’s daughter, his sweet godchild. For a year, you’ve watched him be good and kind to any child he meets, patient with you, subdued as he hides the depth of his desire to be a father behind his dimpled smiles and suave redirection when you bring it up. 

He’s been willing to wait for you. He never pushes. He never demands. And in this moment, as you study the face of the incredible man who’s welcomed you into his heart and his home, all you want is to begin the journey to give him what you know he will never ask for, even though it’s what the secret parts of his heart want the most. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper,” don’t. It’s okay. You can finish inside me.” You caress his face lovingly as his eyes go wide. 

“Really? But baby… I… what…” Your eternally eloquent man has gone slack jawed in his loss for words as his hips begin to still.

“It’s okay,” you nod. “I want you to. I want to feel you.” You kiss the dip of his dimple.

“Are you sure? i-“ he stumbles before you lovingly cut him off.

“I think it’s about time we start trying for our family, don’t you?” You whisper. Your fingers thread through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes as his face beams with light. His shoulders and chest are shaking with laughter as his eyes flit between yours and he smiles.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” His hands slip up to cradle your face, the most beautiful mixture of excitement and relief and the purest joy making his misty eyes look brilliant in the early light.

“Absolutely,” your voice is soft as you tip your nose against his. Your smile is all pearls and laughter as you reach to grab the full apples of his ass and push him into you.

He’s laughing and smiling and gasping when you do, before happily resuming the final few thrusts he would need to send himself over the edge.

“Use me, baby,” you whisper, eyes alight with the gentle seduction that always ruins him. “I want to feel you when you finish.”

Biting his lip, he swallows and nods, almost too eager, but you’re beautiful and warm and you’ve gotten so tight around him and he can’t help himself. He’s close. He’s already soo close. He’s spent nearly this whole morning trying to contain himself inside you despite the absolutely mind numbing feel of you, and here you are telling him to let go? It’s impossible that you’re real.

Pulling his face to you, he realizes you’re kissing him. Your honey sweet tongue has made a home in his mouth. Your soft breasts brush his chest with every thrust. Your hands are clutching his back and in his hair. Your heels pressed into the back of his legs to pull him close, and now he knows you want to carry his baby.

To allow your body to grow and change just to hold his seed, start his family and realize his dream of not only being a husband to you but a dad to your babies. He’s so in love with you. So maddeningly, ridiculously, stupidly, over the moon in love with you, and all at once, it’s happening.

His release is coming, strong and quick, and he can finally drown in the feeling of it happening while you surround him. His body is reeling at the burst of perfection he feels from losing himself in you like this. The cloud like swells of your thighs pressing around him might very well be the only thing holding him up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I love you.” His face is buried in your neck, your chest, your hair, your cheeks- everything all at once- his full lips dropping kisses on your skin like stars falling from heaven. 

When he pulls back to look at you, he can’t even put what he’s feeling into words. But it’s okay. Because you know. He can see it in your eyes.

Cradling his face, you smile up at him, eyes glossy and happy. “You ready?” 

“To have a baby with you?” His voice falters as his smile grows so wide his eyes nearly disappear. “There isn’t anything I want more.”

Pressing his forehead to yours as he hugs your waist, you both press your noses together and laugh. Overcome with something almost too sweet to simply be called happiness. The word seems too small to encompass it all.

“Maybe I’m not husband of the year yet, cause I definitely didn’t see that coming.” He chuckles.

“Oh shut up. I know you felt how you made me finish. You’re just showing off at this point.”

“I can’t have my baby girl leave anyway but satisfied with me.” He winks, and you smack his chest lightly.

“I’d be mad at you for being so smug if you weren’t actually as great as you think you are,” you scrunch your nose at him as he laughs.

“Well, if there are any areas of improvement I can work on, let me know. I hear I'm about to have a lot of time to workshop your suggestions.” Namjoon lovingly nips at your collarbone, and you tingle in bliss at the thought of how many more moments like this lie in your near future.

“Duly noted. On that note then, I feel compelled to point out that what you just did counted as an excellent submission for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” He licks his lips slowly as you nod.

“Remember- you can make as many entries as you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Limitless,” you assent. 

“Good to know. I’ll keep it mind,” he smirks, dipping down to lift the fullness of one of your breasts into his hand as he gently kisses the top of the swell of flesh. You sigh into his kiss. This is going to be a spectacular journey— you can already tell.

“Namjoon.”

“Hmm?” His eyes perk up, though his mouth never leaves its preoccupation with your bare chest.

“Is this… is this okay? I hope I didn’t spring this on you too soon or… I don’t know...too out of the blue? Because your comfort is important too, and I—“

You’re swiftly cut off by the sweet press of Namjoon’s delicious lips against yours. “Shh. Yes, I want this. More than anything.”

“So my timing wasn’t—“

“No. It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he kisses the tip of your nose as your lips bloom into a smile. “And if we are going to try to fill that cute belly of yours with a baby, then maybe… maybe this shouldn’t just be a weekend visit.”

Tipping your head to look at him, you feel your brows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this has always been our getaway spot. A place to stay safe and lie low when things get jumpy in the city. A place to take you when we want to be alone. Truly be alone. But if…” he hesitates, lacing your hand with his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “If you’re going to be carrying my baby, I want to keep you safe. I promised you that the day I met you- I’d never let anything happen to you. It’s been risky enough to have you in the city all this time as it is.”

“So...what exactly are you suggesting, love?” You run your thumb lovingly over his knuckles.

“I’m proposing if you do get pregnant, we move you out here. Permanently. Or at least somewhat long term.”

“Wait…” you pull away, eyes clouding as you do. “Alone? Without you?”

“No. No. I didn’t word that right. I’d be here as much as i can, and I’d send the security detail to stay out here whenever I have to leave so—“

“Namjoon, I don’t want to be all the way out here by myself. Surely, that’s not necessary.”

He frowns as he tries to gather his thoughts. “This is coming out wrong...You wouldn’t be fully by yourself. I’d be here as much as I can. I just... want you protected. Safe. And out of the city while you're carrying something so precious.” The backs of his knuckles graze your stomach. 

“But I don’t understand. Why—“

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” His voice has turned solemn, his eyes an odd shade of vulnerability when they meet yours. 

“Joon, nobody’s gonna do anything. You’ve made that city so secure-nobody could hurt me even if they tried.”

Something stormy and troubled clouds his eyes.It makes you wonder if there are things he hasn’t told you. Things he’s kept to himself to ensure that your life is as peaceful as possible. You wonder what kind of darkness he’s had to swallow for your sake. 

“But they have tried.”

It's news to you. 

“What do you mean… when?” 

“It’s happened a few times. Nothing ever got far enough to warrant bringing it up.”

“What on earth? Joon, why in the world wouldn’t you tell me that?” 

He sighs once, from some deep place in his bones. “Because i never wanted to have to see the look in your eyes that I do right now.”

Suddenly, any anger you held vanishes all at once. 

“Baby, why are you carrying something like that all by yourself?”

“So you don’t have to. I promised I’d keep you safe, and I meant it. That includes taking care of your peace of mind. Something you won’t have if you knew how many times someone’s shot off at the mouth about coming for you because they’re irate at me or how many times someone has done more than just talked and actually tried.”

It’s a sobering thought.

“Is that… is that the real reason why you never pushed for an heir?” For reasons you can’t explain, the idea makes you want to cry. Namjoon sees the shift immediately, his fingers ready to brush your tears before they even fall.

“Shhh, hey. No. I mean, it’s part of it. You know all I’ve ever wanted was to be a parent. When I married you, please know the idea of you being the mother of my children sent me over the moon, but I know this world. How people take what they want. Do what they want. I wanted better for you.” He runs his fingers soft over your cheek like you’re some spun glass artifact he needs to protect. 

“I wanted to be better for you than the men in this world were going to give you. I promised myself that I was never going to demand anything from you. That’s why I didn’t push for an heir. I meant it when I said we go at your pace. Always.”

Sniffling, you look up at him through wet lashes. 

“Joon, protecting me doesn’t mean you hide the truth from me.”

“Not even if it would hurt you? Scare you?”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry you. It’s so kind of you to try to take these burdens so I don’t have to, but then who carries them for you? That’s my job. You have to let me do it.”

Closing his eyes, he exhales long and slow through his nose. 

“You really mean it, don’t you? You really want to know.”

“Yes,” you nod, caressing his face. He looks troubled. You’d give anything to help take some of his cares away.

“Then you should know why we came to the villa this weekend.”

“So it wasn’t just for a getaway?” You brace yourself for whatever it is you’re about to hear.

“It is, and it isn’t. I guess I have to go back a bit for this to make any sense, but my family isn’t from here. You know that. Our roots don’t go back as many generations as yours do, so when the new kid on the block started gaining power in this city faster than anyone had seen before, there were a lot of families that weren’t happy about it.

Especially not when the daughter of one of the oldest families in the city became my bride. There had already been a lot of grumbling against me before I made such a powerful ally, and there were certainly plenty after. Anything we’d stumbled on over the last few months had been mostly hearsay, but…”

“What is it, Joon?” You're worried now. You can hear the way his voice sounds choked.

“There was a deal that went wrong a few weeks back. Just a skirmish with some lower level captains that got out of control, but I thought I’d put a pin in it. Turns out the other family involved hadn’t let it go like I thought …” he stops, eyes going cold as color drains from his face.

“Baby, it’s okay. You can tell me,” you reassure. 

Closing his eyes, he licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his voice lower, raspier when he continues. “There was a hit put out on you this past week.

You’re shocked. “There— what?”

”It’s okay now. Jungkook caught intel on it soon enough that he crushed it before the people responsible could hurt you, but I've never seen anyone get this close. Y/n, I couldn't breathe when he told me. When I found out, I nearly lost my mind. I called you immediately to make sure you were safe— I couldn’t breathe til I heard your voice.”

You had no idea he’d been through that. You can’t imagine what you would have done if the roles were reversed, if you’d been seconds away from losing him. It would’ve shattered you. You’re not sure how he’s still standing.

“Once I knew you were okay, the first thing I could think was that I needed to get you out of town as fast as I possibly could. Something’s building in that city, y/n. The lower families are tired of their rank. They’re itching to get back any sort of power they can- it’s making them reckless. There’s rumors of a war building…I’d dismissed it so far. Didn’t think they were a real threat until they had the nerve to try something like this. We squashed it, but this was too close, and I’m not willing to risk you.”

Realization dawns across your face. “That’s why we left with less than an hour's notice. I’d thought you were just being romantic about a weekend getaway but ...That’s why we came to this safe house and not the one on the edge of town, isn’t it?”

His eyes fall away as he nods, “That’s why our security detail was thicker than usual.”

“But I've hardly seen anyone.”

“That’s on purpose. I didn’t want to scare you.  Didn't want to draw attention to a whole parade leaving town so I had them follow us at a distance. They’re stationed all around the property and schooled to stay out of sight.”

“What about the boys? Was it safe to have them here this weekend with their wives? Their girlfriends? Didn’t we put them in danger?” Your rounded eyes betray the sudden guilt you feel for what you thought had been such a beautiful night.

“Shh, no. Hey, they’re fine. I had them all moved out to safe houses not too far from here with a security detail on them too. They’re just a few miles from here. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about them driving out last night- they didn’t have to go all the way back to the city, just to our guest houses and then their safe houses in the morning….I’m having them all lie low for a little while. Figured they’d want their girlfriends and wives as close to their side as I want mine. Thought having them over was a good distraction for a night.”

You had no idea. Something cold runs up your spine at the thought that this weekend, this beautifully perfect day could’ve been so different. Or perhaps not even happened at all. 

Slipping your dress back into place, you cover yourself. It feels wrong to have this conversation half naked. Namjoon seems to sense it too as he pulls his pants back on. He offers to help ease you down from the counter, picking you up and placing you gently on the whitewashed floorboards, making sure you’re steady before he lets you go. 

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh at how he has to make you sure you’re stable enough not to keel over where you stand after blessing you with an orgasm so bright it makes your soul radiate around your body. Now though, you find your hand cradling your lower belly, feeling entirely naive for thinking now was the time to bless the world with Namjoon’s child. You should say something, but the words get stuck in your throat…. you feel like a fool.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee, yeah? You want a cup?” Namjoon offers softly. When you look up, he looks so worn out all of a sudden. Like he’s somehow aged years during the course of this conversation. Like he really does need a cup of coffee, if not something stronger.

“Sure, baby. I’ll take one.”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to your forehead before he plugs in the black gooseneck kettle you’d gotten him for his birthday. The gift had been simple, thoughtful, and if he was honest, it was the best present anyone had ever given him.

He practically survives on black coffee most days. At the beginning of your marriage, he was always long gone before you rose most mornings, so in an attempt to slow him down and have more time with him, you’d gotten him a pour over set and a gooseneck kettle to replace his old instant apparatus.

He wondered if you were aware of all the additional gifts it had given him along the way....It required time to steep and brew. Time he’d never given himself before he met you. The methodology of it soothed him, provided his mornings with a small structure and routine he’d never had in a lifestyle marked by so much chaos. 

Taking the time to make his absolutely necessary coffee this way helped wake him up gently, slowed him down enough for you to have the time to slip out of bed and catch him before he was gone, to hold him while he prepared it. To remind him of the precious reason he needed to be careful while he was out that day. 

As the water boils, he turns his back to you. He feels himself melt when your arms wind around him. Softly, you press a kiss between his shoulder blades before your touch slips away as quietly as it appeared. The subtle sounds of your footsteps fading as you walk away and the gentle buzzing of the kettle are all that fill the room in the silence between you.

Namjoon sighs as he turns, his arms crossed as he leans against the counter to watch you.  Without a word, you silently procure a hearty loaf of fresh,crusty bread from the pantry and begin to slice it for breakfast. As your head tips down in concentration, he watches your untamed hair fall in your eyes. It’s beautiful the way it frames your face. It makes something squeeze in the center of his chest.

Crossing the room, he comes to stand beside you, lightly brushing your hair back into place for you with his hand. You still in your task, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes, baby?” 

“If it’s this dangerous…” your voice is barely above a whisper, “this unsafe… does that mean we shouldn’t have a baby?” When you look up at him, your eyes are starlit with tears. Your hands are trembling, and he hates to see you so sad.

“No. You’re ready, and I want a family,”’he soothes.

“But… but if there’s this much risk, how can our child ever have a normal life? Won’t we always be afraid for them all the time? Is that selfish? To make a life that has to live in this world just because we want them to?”

He brushes his fingers over the cascade of teardrops starting to fall from your eyes. “All parents have to worry about that, y/n. This world is still a scary place even outside my line of work.”

“I know. But they don’t have to worry about a hit on their child’s life or a ransom or generation’s old grudges putting their child at risk....They just have to worry about whether or not a child in their daughter’s class has a peanut allergy because little ashley will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right now and nothing else.”

You’re talking with your hands as Namjoon gives you a smile that’s equally warm and sad. “That’s a really specific scenario.”

“I went through a phase in first grade, okay?”

He finds your eyes until you laugh before pulling you in tight against his chest. “First of all, that’s adorable. We’ll address that again later because little y/n sounds incredibly cute. And secondly,” he sighs,” you grew up in this world- the same as me- and we both survived. Having a child is expected of us, yes, but if that’s not what you want... it doesn’t have to happen. But, if we both want one… if being a mom will make you happy, then I’m going to find a way to give you that.” There’s a heaviness about him right now. An authority resigned to accept whatever fate weighs on your heart the most as he watches your eyes fill with questions.

“But won’t we be afraid for them all the time? I feel so naive for only thinking of how much I’d like to meet them, how much I’d love them just because they’re a part of you, when I should have known better.”

“That’s not naive. That’s beautiful. No matter what they’re like, we’ll love them. Because they’re ours.”

“What if they don’t want any part of this world? They should have a choice… but can I even give them one or will their only option be serving as the new head of the Kim family one day?” Your face looks stricken. “Did you get to choose?” Your watery eyes flit up to his. 

He swallows, face stony as you survey him. “I did what I had to do so our life can look however we want it to,” he’s sighing again, worn out out by memories you may never see. “Look, you’re my wife, and I’m your husband. As far as I’m concerned, we’re the ones get to decide what’s right for us, y/n. I’ve told you that, and I meant it- that extends to our children too. Their lives don’t have to look like what anyone else wants but them. I don’t care if they want to be painters or accountants or captains in the family. They get to shape the life they want. That’s what I’ve worked so hard for.”

You feel your eyes flutter shut in relief on their own accord. Of course he’s already thought this through to this degree. When has your Namjoon ever done anything less? It soothes your mind to know he’s taken the time to lay the groundwork so you don’t have to. Still though, questions you’re ashamed didn't occur to you sooner rattle through your head and spill from your mouth.

“Do they have to spend their life in boarding school like I did? Are our only options to send them away or be scared for them every day?

“Y/n, no. We’ll find what works for our family. I want that with you- figuring that out and watching them grow. I’ll keep you both safe. However I have to. I promise you.” His thumb brushes over your ring as he holds your hand against his chest. “I promised you.”

And just like that, it hits you all over again- how much you love this man. How deeply you trust him with every fiber of your being. How you couldn’t have found a better man to love you if you’d tried. You two are it for each other- you’ve known it since the day you met him on the steps.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, kissing your knuckles,”... but, y/n?”

Your eyes flit up to meet his. “Yes, love ?”

“I meant what I said. If this is all too much, if this scares you, we can wait.” His brown eyes are so deep and sincere. You know every part of him means it, and it’s precisely because of that, that you say the words you do.

“No. I want this. All of this. With you. We’ll figure this out,” you nod, gently pulling the back of his neck down so your foreheads are touching. “I want to have a baby with you. I’m all in, if you are.”

You can feel the rush of tension that leaves his body. He wraps you in his arms, so close and secure, and something innocent comes from him that you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“God, you know I am. Thank you.”

His voice is as robust and full as always, but his eyes… there’s something so young and soft and terrified in them. Like the weight of all he’s been carrying alone has crashed down on him all at once. “I’m so excited to have a baby with you if it happens. And it’s okay if it doesn’t. But I can’t wait to try.”

You’re nodding and crying, and you realize something that perhaps has never dawned on you before. This is the first time you’ve seen him truly this vulnerable. He’s always so strong, so composed. Too busy holding up an entire empire and caring for you to let his walls fully fall. 

But as he buries his face in your neck, you suddenly feel dampness pooling against your skin and realize he’s crying. You wonder how you got here on a morning that had been so serene and full of bliss. Bliss you now realize has come at a price.

“I was so scared I'd lost you the day we came here.” Slipping your hand into his hair, the other soothes his back as he clings to you tighter. “I'm so glad you’re okay. You’re so smart. I know you are. You don’t make reckless mistakes when you’re out— you take good care of yourself— but I was so afraid. My heart dropped when Jungkook told me what he’d heard. He couldn’t calm me down until I heard your voice on the phone.”

Stroking his hair, you recall the phone call just a few days ago. How strangled and out of breath he’d sounded. How you’d asked if he was okay, and he’d simply said he was now.

“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.” 

He takes a moment to collect himself, pressing you so close you may fuse together. It’s unguarded, and precious. Something you know both of you treasure as he nuzzles into your skin in that space along your neck where his face perfectly fits.

It’s as simple as that. You both stay like this for as long as you can, secure in his embrace, your breathing settling until it’s nearly in sync. It’s peaceful for you, cathartic for him. It’s a moment framed by a different kind of intimacy than the one you both shared in this very room less than an hour ago. 

He shows no sign of letting you go until the kettle begins to howl for him from across the room. When he does, his fingers trace the silk fabric along your waist as his lips kiss your forehead. He takes one more heavy breath before he squeezes you in release to tend to the coffee.

“Cream and sugar?” He asks, his voice thicker than usual.

“Always,” you answer.

And so the morning resets itself. 

The day shifts into afternoon. The sun drifting higher, brighter, casting the shadows and ridges of Namjoon’s sculpted body in almost Grecian relief as he carefully pours the water for both of you over the coffee grounds. You finish slicing the crackling bread loaf and bring it to the table to place it beside the remnants of Seokjin’s charcuterie board. 

It’s only when you catch sight of your lacy table cloth that you remember the accident that started the whole morning to begin with. You’d both gotten so preoccupied with each other that you never made it any further than cleaning his shirt and not the rest of the disaster.

Smiling to yourself, you gently slide the cloth off the table and fill the sink with cold water to soak it. Looking over at your husband, you realize wine stains still swirl over the front of Namjoon’s linen pants. There’s a very good chance those are fully set now, but just in case, you might as well try to fix them. 

So, gently, you hook a finger into his waistband and tug. “Let me have these.”

“Round two all ready? Greedy girl.” He winks, his voice soft as follows the drip of his Colombian roast.

“No, smart girl. We did a terrible job of getting you cleaned up.” You pop the p at the end of the word as you snap the elastic on his pants.

Looking a bit lost, Namjoon glances down to see the lovely pastel splashes of rosé running clean down the front of his pants. He’d been too busy to notice once you’d gotten him out of them. Blushing for no reason other than the embarrassment of you having to clean up his foibles, Namjoon dips down to remove the trousers, leaving himself looking statuesque and unreasonably gorgeous in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs in the afternoon light as he tends to the coffee.

You feel terribly immature over how quickly affected you are by the sight of him in his current predicament and carefully take the pants from him, only to turn abruptly in search of some fresh air and relief. Namjoon catches your equally flustered state, smiling to himself, but doesn’t acknowledge it out loud. This spell of quiet that’s settled over the room is too peaceful to break.

Once the coffee’s done, he brings both your cups to the broad heirloom table, and you enjoy breakfast… or, he supposes, brunch at this point...together in the stillness. Every bite you take is piled high with prosciutto and fig while Namjoon drizzles honey on his slices of bread. 

It’s peaceful, idyllic. Tranquil enough to forget the world that awaits him back in the city.

It’s funny, the duality of his life. How easy it becomes in moments like these to lean into the simplicity of breakfast with his lover and ignore the undulating danger and uncertainty awaiting him in the rest of his world. It makes him realize how much he’s come to covet exchanges like this when he gets to feel like you’re just two people in love and nothing else. 

As his eyes trace over you, he promises himself to do everything in his power to make sure your life with him is hallmarked by sweet pockets like these. As many of them as he can give you. 

At some point Namjoon pushes up to get the carafe of orange juice from the fridge, and after assigning your more capable hands the job of opening the champagne, you both polish off your brunch with the tinkling clink of your toasting mimosa glasses. 

Once your bellies are full and satiated, Namjoon looks up at you. His elbows are propped up on the table, chin contentedly resting in his hands. There’s a question hidden in the corner of his lips as his eyes glisten with mischief.

“So… what else do you have in mind for your agenda today, my bride?” He reaches across the table to grab your hand, kissing the back of your palm as you giggle and roll your eyes.

“Well if you must know... I'm thinking I might give my sister a call. See if she’d be willing to come pay me visit.” You offer, pushing one of the last grapes around the corner of the board, avoiding the way Namjoon’s eyes shine. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly. “Maybe she could come stay in one of the guest houses. Potentially. Once I move out here. Whenever that may be.” 

“So my baby won’t be alone when I’m gone?” His dimples are popping in his cheeks as his smile spreads wide. It’s a brilliant idea to bring her out here with you until Namjoon can finesse a way to be by your side 24/7. He wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner. Probably because you’re as smart as you are beautiful. 

“Neither of your babies.” You crinkle your nose as you smile back at him. 

“I like the sound of that,” he’s beaming back at you, happy and light. His eyes are misty with emotion he can’t hide, and it only makes you love him more.

“Me too.”

“So, how would you feel about getting to work as soon as possible then?” His eyebrows bounce salaciously your way, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Is that what you want?” 

“If it’s what you want. Always.” Namjoon licks his lips and a crackle of electricity shoots up your spine. The parallels to how this morning started are not lost on you. It makes something in you thrill with excitement.

“Well, I would love to take a bath. Our activity this morning was excellent, but I must say you left a bit of a sticky mess in your wake.” 

“Sorry,” Namjoon ducks his head bashfully.

“So I’m going to break in that beautiful clawfoot tub and fill it to the brim with matcha bubble bath.”

“Mmm. With the orange blossom bath salts too?”

“Always,” you wink as Namjoon bites his lip.

“God, you always smell so good when you use that. It makes your skin so soft.” The thought of your skin fragrant and bare has his blood stirring again as his eyes rake over you.

“Well you are welcome to keep me company and read to me while I soak,” you offer nonchalantly as you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your hips as you round the corner, quickly followed by the sound of his bare feet against the floorboards.

“Or I could join you in the water.”

When he responds, his voice is closer than you expected it to be. He’s caught up to you so quickly with those long legs of his.

“Or you could finish the chapter of the book you were reading to me on the way up. You left me on such a cliffhanger when your hands got distracted on the drive. I’m dying to know what happens next.”

Biting his lip, that wicked gleam is back in his eyes at the memory of the drive up and the things the two of you got up to in the privacy of the tinted, shielded back seat.

“Fair enough, but I get to join after.” His hand is forceful where it slips across your waist. You tumble into him, wanting nothing more than to let him win and start this game all over again, but you had a feeling you were winning this round, and you like to win.

“I can promise you no such thing. We’ll just have to see how the day goes,” you shrug, dismissing him completely to climb the stairs.

As much as he enjoys the view, Namjoon loves the play for dominance more: it’s cute on you. Too bad he’s still got the upper hand. He catches you on the stairwell, turning you around to face him. His hand ghosts down the front of your silk draped stomach directly to the dip between your legs.

 He places enough pressure to catch your sensitivity there, smiling something wicked at the sound of your sharp inhale. He already knows how delicate you are after you’ve already finished once until he warms your body up again. The prospect of starting this dance all over again has him stiffening with delight against your leg when he feels the familiar slip of your essence help the fabric glide beneath his touch.

“Oh baby girl, you have no idea how well this day is gonna go.” His voice has dipped to an octave reserved only for the devil as he smiles at you and lifts you off the stairs and into his arms.

You squeal at the suddenness of it, wrapping your arms securely around his neck so you don’t fall. He just chuckles, something throaty and dark, as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to the sunlit bathroom. 

Setting you on the counter, he turns to start the bath- scooping in bath salts, pouring your bubbles, raising the blinds so the room is flooded with light. He doesn’t want to miss a single look on your beautiful face when he has his way with you for a second time today.

Not once has it occurred to you to move from the spot where he put you. Instead, you sit perfectly still on the bathroom counter, feeling your nails dig into your palms, your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you watch him. Your pulse is already thrumming with anticipation all over again. 

When he turns back to you, you can see clear evidence of his arousal reshaping itself beneath his black briefs, and suddenly, despite your meal, there’s something else entirely that you want in your mouth. He catches the hungry way your eyes follow him as he walks back to you.

“Can I help you, baby?” His laugh is warm, even if his eyes are sinister. It’s all you can do just to nod your head and slip your fingers forward to tug at his waistband. When it begins to fall, you slip down to the floor, catching him off guard entirely. Not in a million years did Namjoon didn't plan on this course of events, but he certainly isn't unhappy about it. 

Namjoon leans back against the counter in the spot you’d just been sitting in as your hands grasp onto the muscular ridges of his toned legs. You set to work kissing his golden skin on his thighs slowly, indulgently, enjoying yourself as you go. 

You’ve always been weak in the knees for his absurdly gorgeous legs. They’ve only gotten more toned in the last year just like the rest of him, and between his dimples, his arms, his chest, and his legs, it’s hard to know where to begin. Or it would be if there wasn’t something hard and beautiful staring you in the face.

Namjoon is in heaven watching this unfold from above. When you slip him into your mouth, he feels all his rational thought go dark. He’s helpless to do anything but cave in. God, the two of you are like rabbits, but honestly, how can you not be when you make him feel like this? He begins to lose himself in the soft rhythm you create, something lazy and hypnotic, that makes him feel weightless.

He can barely hold himself, but every second is worth it. All he can do is luxuriate in the way you take your time as you bless him. At least, that’s how he always thinks of it because it’s truly nothing short of divine. 

He can’t tell if it’s been a few minutes or an eternity when all of a sudden, you’re abruptly letting him slip from your mouth with a pop and a sultry smile. The cool air rushing against him nearly startles him in the wake of the warmth he’d been cocooned in while your tongue did its incredible work. Because just as quickly as you started, you’re gone. 

He realizes then that the floor is wet. Apparently, You’d both gotten so lost in each other that the water in the tub had spilled over its edges and he hadn’t even noticed. Also, at some point during all this, you must have slipped out of your dress, because you’re lowering yourself into the water now as bare as you were on your wedding night.

Namjoon swallows. His body is ramping with endorphins, and he’s so worked up it nearly hurts. As he makes his way to the tub, you stop him with a dainty hand against his lower stomach.

“Ah, ah. I asked you to read to me.” 

Your eyes are coquettishly round as you bat them up at him. He’s tempted to scoff.

“Are you serious right now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” His face is serious, focused as he eyes your breasts floating in the water amidst the matcha- scented bubbles.

You push back against his stomach again. “Yes, we were… in the middle of that last chapter. Book. Please.”

There it is again. The “please” he’s always been so enamored by. The “please” that’s usually the product of your need for him. The one he’s so infatuated with that he’d do anything to satisfy it. The one that, up until now, he’d thought you were unaware of, yet here you are using it against him.

That’s when he knows he’s trained you too well. There’s pride sparkling in your eyes as you look up at him, and he can’t believe it. Running a hand down his face, he shakes his head at you. What has he gotten himself into with you?

“ If that’s the way you want to play it, fine,” he squints at you with playful derision. “But I’m reading to you in the tub with you when I come back.”

“Oh please do,” you coo, batting your lashes at him.

Oh, you’re good. 

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at himself as he walks to the bedroom to collect the book. When he met you a year ago- the blushing, soft spoken girl who was too nervous to meet his eyes- he definitely never would have thought that a year later you’d be sending him down the hallway fully naked and half hard to fetch your literature for you while you float in a bath. He wonders when he got so wrapped around your finger like this, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t mind.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

 Being with you is the best his life has ever been. He’ll forever be grateful, that against all odds, you agreed to marry a man who was nearly a perfect stranger and create a life with him.

As he walks back to the bathroom, Namjoon catches a glimpse of your rosy smile flashing his way, peeking at him beyond the wall of bubbles. It fills his chest with something buoyant and light as he makes his way back to you.

There’s absolutely nowhere he’d rather be.

As he sinks down in the water behind you, more displaces, splashing out across the white wood beams and dousing your hair in the process. He apologizes profusely but instead of getting mad, you simply slip the rest of the way under the water to finish the job. When you resurface, you’re laughing so happily that your smile is the brightest thing in the room, putting even the afternoon sunlight to shame.

He pulls you to him, affection for you glowing warmly in his chest as you settle between his legs and look up at him. He kisses your forehead, his heart filled with contentment, before reaching forward to dry his hands on the closest available towel and thumbing through the book until he finds the page he marked.

The two of you stay that way until the chapter is finished and the book is closed. Until the bubbles all dissolve and the water’s gone cold. Even then, once the water is drained, you still stay wrapped in a tangle of Namjoon’s long limbs as you twist to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

Eventually he straightens out his legs to allow you to climb into his lap so he can find his way home again and slip inside you. Your bodies are swathed in the golden light illuminating the room as the two of you go effortlessly slow and unhurried, taking your time . 

Namjoon sinks into you, lost in the beauty of you and your connection. 

This time, your session together is marked in emotion and security. 

He knows how much you want to start a family with him, and you know how special it was for him to let his walls down, to let you know how scared he was to lose you. Both of you are in awe of not only how attracted you are to each other, but also of the caliber of human you’re currently sharing your bodies with, of how transcendent love making can feel when your hearts and hopes are as interwoven in the act as they now are with all your cards on the table.

When Namjoon finishes this time, it’s in sync with you. It’s the first time that happened for the two of you in tandem. As your eyes search his, you're both aware that this shared state of bliss is nothing short of miraculous. As story-worthy as this act has always been between the two of, this time feels different. Markedly so.

Perhaps, it’s because you’ve both dropped your guards enough to fully let the other in, in a way you hadn’t uncovered before. If the crashing of his heartbeat has anything to say about it, Namjoon would probably guess that you've both sunken so deep into each other that it was impossible for the crescendo of your orgasms  not  to crest all at once for the both of you.

Once you’ve gathered yourself enough to speak, you watch Namjoon with dazed eyes, in awe that someone as incredible as him even exists, let alone that you get to call him yours. As he slips out of you, the warmth of his seed flows out between your thighs, and some ridiculous part of you can’t help but smile.

Namjoon catches it too, and leans forward to kiss you. 

“You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”

Your eyes flash to meet his. Your body is spent, your emotions are big and at this point, your heart feels so filled to the brim with affection for him that you fear it won’t fit in your body anymore.

“They’re gonna be the luckiest kids in the world to have you for a dad,” you whisper with shining eyes as you touch his chest.

He dips his head, smiling so exorbitantly wide that it consumes his whole face, and all you can think is that you can’t wait to see that dimpled grin shining back at you from the face of a little boy or little girl down the road.

“By the way,” you begin as his gaze perks back up to meet yours. “You should know that we’ve tallied the votes for husband of the year.”

“Oh really?” His brows lift attentively. “Should I pack it up? Is it time to let the dream go? Surely it’s not going to a rookie this year.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tip your head. Taking his hands you place them so they’re cradling your chest. “On behalf of the board and the esteemed academy, it is my honor to present the award of husband of the year to you, Kim Namjoon.”

As he throws his head back, he bursts into a bright fit of laughter and mock cheering like you’re both surrounded by a make believe crowd. 

“Oh my goodness,” he squeezes your breasts in his palm like the globes are irreplaceable awards. “I would just like to thank all the people around the world who supported me and believed me, who shined the light of their support on me even on days when this seemed bleak. We couldn’t have made it here without you guys. This award belongs to all of you.”

He waves to the imaginary audience he’s created before pressing your breasts together and happily burying his smiling face between them. He mumbles something you can’t understand that gets lost in the downy softness of your chest as you laugh at him.

“What are you even saying down there?”

“I’m thanking the people who got me here.” He eyes you soberly like that should be obvious before breaking character and cackling at how ridiculous this is. “I can’t believe we really kept this joke going all day.”

“I can’t believe I got in the tub to clean up the mess you left earlier only to now, once again, be sticky with dried up mess.” You look ruefully between your legs.

“Hey, hey, that mess may very well become your child.” He tuts as you grin and narrow your eyes at him. 

“I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Semantics,” he shrugs, kissing your nose. You can’t help your eye roll that follows. “Hey,” he breathes, eyes suddenly serious.

“Yes, love?” 

“Please know, whatever happens, I’ll always love you, and I’ll always take care of you. Both of you, if we’re so lucky.” The tips of his fingers rest against your lower belly, and yep. You were right. Your heart bursts clean out of your chest. You can feel the way your eyes glisten, happiness spilling from them as you get lost in Namjoon’s smile.

“I know you will, Joon. I know you will.”

-fin.

#btswritersguild #btswriterscollective #btswritersclub #Kim Namjoon smut #Kim Namjoon fluff #Kim Namjoon angst #Namjoon mafia au #rm smut #rm mafia au #Kim Namjoon arranged marriage au #BTS smut #BTS mafia au #black silk #champagne silk #my writing #BTS angst #BTS fluff #BTS fic #BTS fic series #BTS one shot #Kim Namjoon x reader #Kim Namjoon x you #rm x reader #rm x you

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 1: Just Keep Swimming // Ch. 2

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 4,000+

Masterlist

————————

Sounds of horns and shouting filled the air outside as you stood on the packed bus. Cramped in from every side, it was hard for you to tell where you were going. Not as if you were paying much attention anyways.

“Okay, you left fish and pasta in the fridge… he could use the tv or read a book for entertainment while you are gone…what about…” You ramble incoherently to yourself.

Even though the storm hit Athens hard yesterday, your studio art professor was still having classes today. Forcing you to leave Triton alone at home. You shouldn’t be nervous. There was no reason to. After all, Triton is a god, he was hundreds of years old.

But…, he was still a child. No matter how old or what type of being he is. He could still possibly injure himself or get into trouble. And that single fact alone made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Is this how parents feel leaving their child alone for the first time…?” You groan to yourself, leaning your head forward so it hits the window in front of you.

“Now Approaching *Athens International School of Art*. I repeat, Now—“ The robotic voice announces over the intercom. At the familiar name of your college, you squeeze your way through the other patrons on the bus to make your way to the doors.

Sweet, sweet air, you think to yourself as soon as you exit the bus. It was starting to get way too cramped in there. So much so, you wondered if it was a safety hazard. Though it wasn’t as if you were one to talk, you left a little boy alone—

“Argh!” You scream out, slapping the cheeks of your face. You needed to stop thinking of Triton. He was going to be completely fine. But, what if…

“I’m getting too attached already…” You groan to yourself. It had only been a day. One singular Day. But you were already smitten by the blonde haired child. “It doesn’t help that he's absolutely adorable as well…”

“Who’s adorable?” A voice calls out from behind you, making you jump in surprise. Whipping around, you let out a sigh once you identify who it was.

“Bryce… how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that…”

Bryce Kroger. He was studying abroad at Athens International School of Art for a year just like you except he was instead an architecture major. You met him by coincidence while taking art history so you didn’t know much about the guy, the only thing being the few stories he told you about his home country of Australia.

“Oi! It’s not my fault you're so skittish!” Bryce banters back with a huff.

“Whatever…”

“Eh? Wait, where you heading?” Bryce questions as he watches you walk away, “I thought you had Studio Art on Fridays?”

“I do. I’m heading to the library first though.” You yell back to the tall male who stayed put where he was standing. Not even bothering to follow you.

“You need to stop studying so much!”

“Shut up!”

“IT’S THE TRUTH!”

“SHUT UP!” You scream back with one final huff before storming off. So what if you studied so much. You just wanted to get good grades in the classes that counted. It’s how you got here in the first place. By working your ass off.

Unconsciously, you feel your hand twitch as you open the library door. So what if you spent hours studying. So what if you didn’t go out with friends that often. So what if you didn’t have a social life. So what—

You feel yourself pause, your expression turning sour. Lonely. That’s what you were. You were lonely. A miserable lonely girl.

“Miss!”

Startled out of your thoughts by the sudden call, you realize you were no longer standing at the front door but instead standing in front of one of the librarians. You must have unconsciously walked up to the front desk while you were lost in thought.

“A-Ah. Sorry, I was just looking for books on Leonar—“

You feel your voice trail off at the end as a book on the counter catches your eye. It wasn’t the gold detailing nor the leather texture. No. It was the simple words of “Greek Mythology: Tales of Zeus” printed neatly on the front.

“…Actually, Do you perhaps have any books about Poseidon?”

You just found something better to do with your time.

—.—.—.—.—

“Damn… this is extremely confusing…” You mumble to yourself as you glare at the pages of notes in front of you. Each book seemed to be a little bit different from the last. “Perhaps I should recap…”

Okay, so what makes sense to you is that Poseidon is the second eldest of three brothers and is the ruler of the seas. The things that don’t make sense are… practically everything else…

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream out of frustration right now.

According to the books, Poseidon has had many consorts over the years. One of them being Triton’s mother, Amphitrite…

“My mother… can be quite mean to other women. Even to some of the female servants around the palace. She believes that they are trying to seduce my father…”

…but that doesn’t match up with what Triton mentioned last night. According to him, it sounds like Amphitrite scared away any women that would even come near Poseidon. This also leads to another flaw in the mythology books. You doubted that Poseidon would be able to have an affair with any other women with Amphitrite antics, nevertheless have 10 other children with them.

“Triton also never mentioned having any other siblings…”

Letting out a groan, which you seemed to be doing a lot today, you banged your head against the table. It seems like these mythology books weren’t going to be of any help after all. Though…. you couldn’t help but wonder why the books were so off in the first place.

Lifting yourself back up from the table, you glare down at one of the book covers. It was blue, almost silvery in a way, with a giant black silhouette of Poseidon right smack dab in the middle. Or, at least, what Poseidon might look like…

“Well, my father is extremely strong and handsome. All the sea nymphs stare at him with big heart eyes half the time. Oh! B-but, father doesn’t pay any attention to them. Father is not a cheater like uncle Zeus…”

“…Is Father…? Oh. He’s alright… He’s nowhere as bad as my mother. He’s never hit me or anything. He’s just… cold. Extremely cold. He really just ignores me half the time…”

“…I do love my father…I just wished he would at least spare me a glance…you know?…Acknowledge his own son…”

“God damn jerk!” You hiss out in anger as you push the book aside. Your blood practically boiling at even the slightest thought of Triton’s father, Poseidon. He doesn’t deserve to have such a good and nice son like Triton.

However, as much as you want to curse out Poseidon more, you realized class would be starting soon and you really had to get a move on.

“Shit. I can’t afford to be late again.”

—.—.—

“Ugh. Why did the professor have to assign me this type of painter…?!” You whined to Yuri. Class had already ended by then with the professor long gone. The only people left were students that were conversing with others or trying to get a head start on their paintings.

“Well, it didn’t help that you barged into class late for the second time this week, (y/n).” Yuri explained with a sigh as she continued to set up her palette, not even sparing you a glance.

Yuri Saito, Or rather Saito Yuri, was an abroad student from Japan. She was the closest person you knew at the college as you both were similar in many ways. Especially since you were both homebodies.

“I get that but at least I showed up in the fir—“

“(Y/n)!” A voice shouts out interrupting your talk with Yuri. You turn around to see Bella Woods, a student apart of your major, approaching you. “(Y/n). You were part of your student council back in high school right?”

“Uh, Yeah. Why?” You answered hesitantly. You weren’t sure why, perhaps instincts, but you were already having a bad feeling about this situation.

“Well I need your help on something…” Bella explains, her voice trailing off at the end as she grabs something from her bag. It’s a piece of paper, a flier to be exact.

“A…A Cultural Festival?”

Bella nods her head at your words, “Yeah. The college wanted to put something on for the public to show what our art school is all about and Mrs. Yamamoto suggested this. A-Apparently, it’s something schools and colleges do back in Japan.”

“B-But how can I help? Wouldn’t it make sense for someone like Yuri to do this? Since she’s from Japan and all.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know a single thing about japanese culture festivals.

“Hey don’t drag me into this, I’m busy.” Yuri counterbacks with a glare before returning back to her painting.

“Well… you see… The school wanted to change Mrs. Yamamoto’s idea a bit since they really didn’t know anything about Japanese Cultural festivals either. So it’s like a Cultural festival, kind of not.” Bella rambled. You could tell all this information was scrambling her brain as well. “Basically, it’s like a Greek version of a Cultural festival where each major picks a Greek god and plans an event or booth around it.”

“…Okay… So it’s just like a school festival in a way?” You questioned cautiously. This was a lot for you to take in at once.

“Yes. Precisely. We are just taking inspiration from Cultural festivals.”

“Okay. Okay…” You answer as you rub the back of your neck, “I still don’t understand why you need me though?”

“Well, I kind of… kind of saw you reading the mythology books in the library today and we need more people on the planning committee…” Oh, god. It seems like everything is coming back to bite you in the ass, “…Just. Please (y/n), We need your help!”

You let out a small sigh as you watch Bella give you a pleading look, “Fine…”

“Yay—!“

“But…“ You start cutting off Bella’s cheers, “But I’m taking care of something really important right now at home so I can’t always make meetings and things like that. I can help with planning but that’s it. Okay?”

That was correct. As much as you wanted to help Bella and your department out with this festival, Triton was your top priority right now. His care and needs were above all else right now, even your own. So if this would get in the way of that then you would drop this project instantly. Instantly.

“Of course! Oh, thank you (y/n)!” Bella cheers, her body visibly relaxing now that a stress has been taken off your shoulder, “Well, I’m not sure if you're busy right now but… the committee is currently planning two classrooms down… so if you could…”

“I’ll go…” You sighed out. Damn, what’s with you lately. Less than two days ago, people hardly approached you. Now you are as busy as a bee. A person magnetic… Well, more like god magnetic as wel—

Wait, a minute. You feel yourself tense up as a thought flies into your brain. If Gods could travel and spend time on earth, could they live here as well? Just like how Triton wants to?

Shit. What if some that live here are able to identify Triton? You could be in big troub—

“(Y/n)? Are you coming?” Bella calls, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Y-yes.”

It seemed you would have to worry about that later. Not that it mattered right now, you could always just ask Triton when you got home. And even if he didn’t know the answer you would just have to be careful bringing him out of the house. Yeah… you would just do that.

“Guys, I would like to introduce you to (y/n). She’s a fine arts major just like us and knows about mythology. I think she would make a great addition to our group.” Bella introduces you as you enter the room. As you looked around the group of only 4 other people, you realized you really didn’t know anyone.

That is until everyone started to introduce themselves. You never heard of the first three—Brian, James and Kyle—but you found the last name, Marissa Samudra, quite familiar. You wonder if she was that Marissa.

Who you were talking about was Marissa, the hottest girl in school Marissa. Well, at least that’s what all the boys in your major told you. The girl in front of you at least seemed to fit the part. With white silk like skin, light green eyes and dyed coral pink hair, she truly was a sight to see.

“Okay. So shall we get started.” James suddenly spoke up, seeming to want to get the meeting started. You nodded your head in agreement before taking a seat next to Holly. As well as across from Marissa. “Well, I think we should first decide which god we should do. Culinary, Music, Visual performing arts and architecture already have chosen Aphrodite, Hades, Ares and Zeus. (Y/n)…”

You lift your head up at the call of your name.

“…as you know the most about Mythology, who do you think we should pick?”

“Well,…” You feel yourself pause, your palms growing sweaty out of nervousness. You really didn’t know that much about Greek Gods, only the class you took last year and the books you skimmed this morning. You also didn’t expect so many of the main gods to be taken already.

“…How about…”

You needed to think of someone fast. Someone that would satisfy all parties here. Someone that would bedazzle people coming to the festival.

“…Poseidon…?”

Why… Why was that what your brain had come up with? Poseidon? The very god that you were cursing out this morning. Wishing near death upon.

“Fish man?” Brian questioned, letting out a small chuckle at his own joke, “You really want to go with Fish man as our god? Isn’t there anyone better?”

“I think Poseidon is pretty…cool.” You feel a shiver go up your spine as you compliment the man. It was official, you might actually puke. “…He’s the king of the seas. It gives us a lot to work with for his character. Especially since most Fine Arts students are good at realistic elements, we could really do well on painting or using sea life.”

“True… but—“

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

You are shocked as you hear Marissa cut Brian off. When you first sat down, she seemed totally uninterested in the topic at hand. Caring more about her hair and nails than anything else. But now, now, she was paying attention to every little thing. You couldn’t help but wonder why. “Oh sorry. I really like the sea. It holds a special place in my heart… you know?”

Oh, that makes sense. You totally forgot Marissa’s paintings were mostly about the ocean and sea. Never drifting off to other topics.

“N-no. That’s actually pretty cool. You know what, we should totally do Posedin… or whatever the dude’s name is. He sounds really cool.” Bryan agrees as he bashfully rubs the back of his neck. Gross, could he make it any less obvious that he was smitten by her. And not in a nice way either.

You feel yourself shiver as you watch him sneak small glances down at Marissa’s chest area. Disgusting pervert…

“Well, with that decided let’s move on…”

…Great… You could already tell this was going to be a long meeting…

—.—.—.—.—

Again, for what felt like the hundredth time today, you banged your head against the wall. This time however it was against the door of your apartment.

“Seriously… a Café…?”

Yes, a Café. That’s the brilliant idea your group came up with. An under the sea type themed café.

In hindsight it didn’t sound all that bad. You could have a couple of students paint some props and decorations. Then another couple of students who know how to cook plan out the menu. Maybe even borrow some culinary students if you were lucky.

But,… there’s that.

Outnumbered three to two, the boys of your group insisted the girls that are serving customers should wear togas. Togas. They stated it was to bring in more customers but it was pretty obvious they had other intentions behind it. Especially since they didn’t even bother waiting a couple of minutes afterwards to ask if Marissa wanted to be part of the waiting staff.

“Poor girl… I feel bad for her.” You mumble to yourself as you pull out your keys, finally unlocking the door to your apartment. You wished you could just beat all those men senseless with a baseball bat. “That’s actually not a bad idea… Could I bring a wooden club and say that it's part of the character? They seem to not know that much about—“

“Miss (y/n)!” You hear shouted as something comes barreling into you. Knocking you onto the ground right as you enter your apartment. “O-oops I meant to only say (y/n)…”

Even though you got the air literally knocked out of you, you still let out a small chuckle as you reached up to run a hand through the perpetrator’s locks. Triton’s blonde locks. “It’s okay. I only told you this morning to stop referring to me so formally. It will take time for you to get used to it.”

Suddenly, you wince at a feeling of pain as you move slightly. Triton sure was strong. You, honestly, wondered if he held back some strength when he jumped at you. If so, you wondered how strong Triton was nonetheless an adult god.

Speaking of an adult god…

“Hey Triton.” The boy lifts his head up at your call, “Do any gods live on earth?”

The boy seemed to take a moment to think, “Well kind of? Not really Greek Gods though. Most of them are too proud to live with humans.”

“Oh well that’s goo— Wait, a minute! Other gods are real as well!?”

Triton nods his head furiously, “Yeah pretty much all gods. As long as it is considered as one, it exists. There’s Nordic gods…, Indian gods…, Oh! Even Buddha. I like Buddha, even though I’ve only met him once. He introduced me to salt water taffy! It’s delicious.”

“I-I see…I’ll try to get you some then. Another time.” As much as you wanted to hide your surprise you couldn’t. Learning that Greek Gods actually existed was one situation but learning that All Gods existed was a whole nother ball game. Did that mean demons existed as well?

“Hey (y/n). Could I ask you a question?” Triton asks, suddenly seeming bashful all of a sudden.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Could I…” Triton pauses for a moment, “Could I call you…”

You leaned closer to Triton as his voice slowly got softer and softer at the end. His ears and cheeks were bright red as he waited for you to answer. However, you couldn’t answer him as you didn’t hear the last part of what he said.

“I apologize. Could you repeat what you said, Triton? I couldn’t hear the end of it.” You felt bad for asking him to repeat it as his face only seemed to get even more red when you asked.

“I-I… Could I call you… Mom?”

It was silent as his question, or rather request, fell upon your ears. You thought about it for a moment. Especially whether it was morally right for you to have him call you ‘mom’. Even if his true mother was a terrible person, she was still his mother.

Though, then again, She really didn’t act like his mother. Especially in all her hundreds of years of existence of having him. At least from what you’ve heard from Triton. She’s had plenty of chances to show her love for him and she never did.

“Of…Of course you can.”

You feel yourself smile as Triton’s face lit up. And you knew, Deep down inside, that you did the right thing. You would show this boy the love he deserved.

“Hey (Y— Mom.” You giggle at how Triton seemed to practically beam with happiness once the title left his lips.

“Yes, Triton?”

“Could we have dinner right now?”

You feel yourself jump up a little in surprise. Since you stayed later than what you usually would, due to the meeting, you didn’t have anything prepared ahead of time for dinner.

“Ah, yes. Do you think you could wait in the living room while I prepare it?”

“Of course!” Triton answers as he scrambles up off of you. As you make your way to the kitchen—which was technically in the same room as the living room—to start dinner, you find yourself drifting off into your thoughts.

You realized you really hadn’t thought this through. Taking care of Triton and all. Your apartment was small, he didn’t have his own room, he seemed to eat a lot more than a human boy his physical age and so much more.

You wouldn’t be able to buy a bigger apartment right now. Going through college and all. But you could take more shifts at work. After all, it was literally down the street. You were also good friends with the owner of the toy shop next door. You bet he would allow Triton to play with a couple of toys while you worked.

As you continue to list things you would need to take care of Triton especially if it was long term, Triton was watching cartoons on the couch.

“…Wonder cats will be right back!…”

As the show goes to commercial break, Triton feels himself let out a sigh. Television sure was awesome and all, much better than the plays and coliseum matches used to entertain gods, but he despised ads more than anything.

“Who in the world created such a malicious thing…”

Triton’s voice trails off at the end as the ad changes to another. As he stares at the screen, he feels a shiver shoot down his spine. As quickly as he could, Triton changes the channel to another before shakily dropping the television remote. A cold sheen of sweat breaks out all over his skin as he collapses back onto the couch.

To anyone else, the commercial before looked like any normal hair dye commercial seen on Tv. But not to Triton. Especially when he saw something oh so familiar.

“T-that hair color…” Triton feels himself shiver at the thought, “L-looked too much like Aunties. Mom’s…No…

…Amphitrite’s Sister.”

Author Note: Ahhh this chapter contained so much but I knew I couldn’t split it up. Especially if I was doing posting Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was worried that the time frame in between would mess my readers up. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I know there wasn’t a lot of Triton moments but I wanted to get the ball rolling on the plot so that things and certain characters (*cough* Poseidon *cough*) will appear soon. Well that’s it for now, see you next time :)))

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #snv #bivalve

[itsclydebitches]

The Bad Batch: A Crosshair Analysis

Hello, Star Wars fandom! I have just completed watching—and loving—The Bad Batch, which you know means I now need to dump all my thoughts about the first season into the tumblr void. Specifically, thoughts on the complicated drama that is Crosshair. I have no doubt that the majority of what I’m about to say will be old news to anyone who watched the show when it came out (I’m slow...), but I’m writing it all out anyway. Largely for my own sanity enjoyment :D

I want to preface all of this by saying that the above is not an exaggeration. I love the show and I love the entire cast. My enjoyment in each of the characters is directly connected to my enjoyment of the season as a whole, which I say because I’m about to get pretty critical towards some of the characters’ choices and, to a lesser extent, the writing choices that surround those. Does this mean I secretly hate The Bad Batch? Quite the opposite. I’m invested, which is presumably just what Filoni wants. I’m just hoping that investment pays off. 

But enough of the disclaimers. Let’s start with the matter of the inhibitor chip. I’ve seen fans take some pretty hard stances on both sides: Crosshair is completely innocent because he’s definitely been under the chip’s control this whole time, no matter what he might say. Crosshair is completely guilty because he said the chip was removed a long time ago and he chose to do all this, no moral wiggle room allowed. However, the reality is that we don’t know enough to make a clear call either way. The audience, simply put, does not have all the necessary information. What we have instead is a couple of facts combined with claims that may or may not be reliable. Let’s lay them out:

Crosshair was definitely under the chip’s control at the start of the series.

He was able to resist it to a certain extent, resulting in a pressure to obey orders coupled with a primary loyalty to his squad. See: telling Hunter to follow the Empire’s commands—which includes killing kid Padawans—but not turning his team in as traitors when they did not. It’s an in-between space.

Crosshair’s chip was then amplified to an unknown extent. I’m never going to claim I’m a Star Wars aficionado—I’m a casual fan, friends. Please don’t yell at me over obscure lore lol—but within TBB’s canon, no one else is undergoing that experimentation. The effects of this are entirely unknown, which includes Crosshair’s free will, or lack thereof.

Crosshair then becomes a clear tool of the Empire, hunting down innocents, killing on a whim, the whole, evil shebang.

In “Reunion” he’s caught by the engine and suffers severe burns to his face. One leaves a scar that covers precisely the place where the chip would have been extracted.

Removing the chip leaves its own scar behind. If Crosshair’s was removed, we can’t see that scar due to the burn.

After these events Crosshair seems to mellow a bit. He does horrible things under the Empire’s orders—like shooting the senator—but is still loyal to his squad—killing his non-clone teammates to give TBB a chance, saving AZ and Omega, etc.

Crosshair claims that his chip has already been removed. However, Crosshair is arguably an unreliable source if he’s been lied to or if the chip is still there, encouraging him to manipulate the team.

Crosshair claims it was removed a long time ago, which is incredibly imprecise. As we can see from just some of the events listed above, precisely when the chip came out—if it came out—makes a huge difference.

Hunter realizes this and presses for clarification, but Crosshair dodges giving it. Again, a legitimate belief that it doesn’t matter, or evidence that he can’t say because something else is going on? We don’t know.

Hunter checks Crosshair’s head and finds the burn scar which proves… nothing. As stated above, they wouldn’t be able to see the surgery scar one way or another: its existence or its absence. It’s useless data, as Tech might say. I’ve seen a few fans claim that Hunter was also feeling for the chip with his enhanced senses, but 1. I didn’t catch any evidence of that in the scene and 2. Even if we assume Hunter did that anyway, the chips are notoriously hard to spot. Fives and AZ couldn’t find the chip at first when examining Tup. Ahsoka had to use the force to find it in Rex. TBB themselves couldn’t find it at first in Wrecker. If machinery consistently fails to find the chip on the first couple of tries—it’s meant to be a hidden implant, after all—why would we believe Hunter’s senses could pick it up instantly? Maybe he missed it, or maybe it wasn’t there at all. 

Crosshair appears to be struggling with a headache in the finale, just as he was at the beginning of the season and just like Wrecker was for the first half.

The point of listing all this out is to emphasize how ambiguous this whole situation is. I don’t want to use this post to argue one way or another about whether Crosshair’s chip is really out. I have my preferred theory (the chip’s still in, but only partially functional), but at the end of the day none of this is conclusive. The writing takes us in what I hope is deliberate circles. Crosshair says the chip is out? Crosshair is not a reliable source of information until we know if the chip is out. What other evidence is there that the chip is gone? A scar? We can’t see if there’s a scar. Hunter’s abilities? He only checked once for a canonically hard to find implant—if he actually checked at all. And why would the Empire want the chip out? Well, maybe it has to do with that push towards willing soldiers, but if that were the case, why leave Crosshair behind and have the “clones die together”? By that point he was one of the most willing, chip or not. Did they have to take it out because of the engine accident? Pure speculation. We just don’t know and THAT is the point I want to make.

Because it means the rest of the Bad Batch didn’t know either.

The core issue I have here is not whether the chip is in or out, or even how long it may have been in if it is out now. The issue is that TBB spent 99% of the first season believing that Crosshair was under the chip’s influence… and they didn’t try to do anything about that. They abandoned him. They left a man behind. Does this make them all horrible monsters? Of course not! This shit is complicated as hell, but I do think they made a very large mistake and that Crosshair has every right to be furious about it.

“But, Clyde, they couldn’t have gone back. It was too dangerous! Hunter had a duty to his whole team, not just Crosshair.” True enough and I’d buy this argument 100% if Hunter hadn’t spent the entire season throwing his team into dangerous, seemingly impossible situations to save other people. Crosshair became the exception, not a hard rule of something they had to avoid. They went back to Kamino for Omega, a kid they’d only had one lunch with, despite knowing how dangerous the Empire was. They went into the heart of an occupied planet to rescue not just a stranger, but one belonging to the Separatist government. They helped Sid when she asked and there was plenty of compassion for the criminal trying to take her place. Most significantly, there wasn’t the slightest hesitation to go rescue Hunter when he was under the Empire’s control, in precisely the same place. Every explanation I’ve seen fans come up with—Kamino is too fortified, they don’t know where Crosshair is, they can’t risk Omega being captured, etc.—also holds true for Hunter, yet there wasn’t a second of doubt about needing to at least try to help him. And his rescue was arguably far more dangerous given that TBB knew they were walking into a trap. Going after Crosshair would have at least had some element of surprise.

I think the problem with these justifications is most easily seen in “Rescue on Ryloth” and, later, “War-Mantle.” In the former, we do watch Hunter decide that going on a rescue mission is too much of a risk, only for Omega to talk him into considering it.

Hunter: “It’s a big galaxy. We can’t put ourselves on the line every time someone’s in trouble.”

Omega: “Why not? Isn’t that what soldiers do?”

Hunter: “It’s not worth the risk.”

Omega: “She’s trying to save her family, Hunter. I’d do the same for you.”

The arguments that sway him are ‘Soldiers should help people’ and ‘Soldiers should specifically help their family.’ So… what does that say about their feelings for Crosshair? They’re willing to put themselves on the line for the parents of a girl they met once at a drop site, but not their own brother? That’s the message the writing sends. “But, Clyde, the difference is that they had an advantage here. Hera’s knowledge of her home planet tipped the odds in their favor.” Yeah… and Crosshair is stationed on TBB’s home planet. Even more than them collectively having the same knowledge that Hera does, “Return to Kamino” reveals that Omega always had additional, insider knowledge of the base: she has access to a secret landing pad and the tunnels leading up into the city. That knowledge was given and used the second Hunter’s freedom was on the line, but it never once came up to use for Crosshair’s benefit. 

“War-Mantle’s” mission puts this problem in even sharper relief. Another claim I’ve seen a lot is that TBB only took risky rescue missions because they needed to be paid. The guys have got to eat after all. Yet Tech makes it clear that going after Gregor will lose them money. They’re meant to be on a mission for Sid and deviating for that won’t result in a payment. He explicitly says that if they decide to do this, they won’t eat. They do it anyway. No money, no intel, a huge risk “on a clone we don’t even know.” But that’s not what’s important, the show says. All that matters is that a brother is in trouble. This time it’s Echo pushing that message instead of Omega. When Hunter realizes that they’re about to try and infiltrate an entire facility and they don’t even know if this clone is still alive, Echo points out that they took that risk once before: for him. “If there’s a chance that trooper is being held against his will, we have to try and get him out.”

Yes! Exactly right! So why doesn’t that apply to Crosshair?

“Because he tried to kill them, Clyde!” No, that’s the easy, dismissive answer. A chipped Crosshair tried to kill them. AKA, a Crosshair entirely under the Empire’s control. The only difference between his enslavement and Gregor’s is that Gregor’s chains were physical while Crosshair’s were mental. And again, the point of everything at the start of this post is to show that no one knows when or even if that chip was removed. TBB definitely didn’t have any reason to suspect that Crosshair was working under his own power until Crosshair himself said as much. We might have been able to make that case at the start of the season, but “Battle Scars” removes any possible confusion. The entire team watched Rex reach for his blaster when he learned their chips were still in. The entire team watched Wrecker become a totally different person and attack them, just like Crosshair did. The entire team forgave him instantly and had their own chips removed. So why in the world didn’t anyone go, “Wow, Crosshair has a chip too. He was no more responsible for attacking us than Wrecker was. We need to try to get him out, no matter how hard that might be, just like we had to try for all these other people we’ve helped.”

But they didn’t. No one even considered rescuing Crosshair. They only went back for Hunter and, when they realized Crosshair was there too, they didn’t change their plans to try and rescue him as well. He’s treated as a particularly threatening inconvenience, not another team member in need of their help.

The problem I have with how this all went down is that the team treated Crosshair like an enemy despite all evidence to the contrary. Despite Omega outright saying that this isn’t his fault, it’s the chip, the group seems to decide that he’s gone crazy or something and that there’s nothing they can do. “It’s fine,” I thought. “They don’t really get what the chip is like yet. They don’t understand how thoroughly it controls someone.” But then “Battle Scars” arrives and Wrecker is treated with such compassion (which he deserves!) only for the group to continue acting like Crosshair is somehow different. It’s easy to say, “But Crosshair shot Wrecker” and ignore the easy pushback of, “and Wrecker nearly shot Omega.” Up until Crosshair’s own accusations and Omega’s ignored comments, TBB’s understanding of the chip’s influence and the lack of responsibility that accompanies mysteriously disappears when the show’s antagonist becomes the subject of conversation. This is seen most clearly in how Hunter tries to frame things during his talk with Crosshair:

“You tried to kill us. We didn’t have a choice.”

“Can’t you see that they’re using you? It’s that inhibitor chip in your head.”

“You really don’t get who we are, do you?”

Hunter mentions the chip, but he acts as if it’s Crosshair’s responsibility to overcome it: “Can’t you see…” Of course he can’t see, that’s the entire point of the chip, the thing he currently believes Crosshair still has stuck in his head. But Hunter and the others—with Omega as a wonderful exception—never seem to have accepted this like they did for Wrecker. When Crosshair “tried to kill us” it’s seen as a deliberate act that he chose, not something forced on him like with Wrecker. When Hunter talks about their ethics, he subconsciously separates the team from Crosshair: “You really don’t get who we are, do you?”, revealing a pretty ingrained divide between them. Even Wrecker gets in on the action, the one brother who truly understands how much the chip controls someone: “All that time, you didn’t even try to come back.” What part of he couldn’t try is not hitting home here? Again, for the purposes of this conversation it doesn’t matter whether Crosshair was chipped this whole time or not. The point is that TBB believed he was chipped… and yet still expected him to somehow, magically overcome that programming, writing him off when he failed to do that. He’s consistently held responsible for actions that they were told (and, through Wrecker, saw) were completely outside of his control. Even when we factor in his claim that the chip was removed, TBB has ignored all the evidence I listed at the start. No one, not even Omega, challenges this super vague and strange claim, or seeks out proof because they don’t want to believe that their brother could willingly do this. There’s just this... acceptance that of course Crosshair went bad. Why? Because he was an asshole sometimes? Taking it all as written, it doesn’t feel like the batch considered him a true part of the team. Certainly not like Wrecker or Hunter. As shown, the batch will go out of their way, risk anything, forgive anything, for them. They have a level of faith that was never shown to Crosshair. 

“Severe and unyielding,” Tech says and he’s absolutely right, but I’d seriously challenge this idea that any of the others would have automatically done better if the situations were reversed. It stood out to me that each batch member has a moment of doubt throughout the series, a brief glimpse into how they think the Empire isn’t that bad, at least when it comes to this particular thing. Basically, a moment that could lead to a very dangerous line of thinking without others to stomp it down. Wrecker announces that he’s happy working for whoever, provided they give him food and let him blow things up. Tech finds the chain codes to be an ingenious strategy and is clearly fascinated with their development. Hunter initially wants Omega to stay on Kamino, despite knowing that this Empire has already, systematically killed an entire group of people: the Jedi. Doesn’t matter. She’s still (supposedly) safer there than she would be running with the likes of them.

There’s absolutely no doubt that those three made the correct choice in defying the Empire, but I believe that their ability to make that choice is largely dependent on them having each other. They survive together, not apart, and it’s their unity that allows them to make the really hard calls, like setting out on their own and opposing such a formidable force. But if Tech’s chip had activated and he’d been left behind, would he have muscled through to escape somehow...or would he have gotten caught up in all the new technology the Empire offered him, succumbing to both his chip and the inevitability that if his squad no longer wanted him, why not stay? Would Wrecker have escaped, or been easily manipulated into a new life of exploding things? Would Hunter have been able to push through without his brothers, or would he have become devoted to a new team to lead? Obviously there’s no way to ever know, but it’s always easier to make the right decisions when you have support in doing so. Crosshair had no support. His team left him and yes, they had to in that specific moment, but the point is that they never came back. As far as we saw throughout the season, they never planned to come back. They all talk about loving the Crosshair who existed when life was easier, but they weren’t willing to fight for the Crosshair that most needed their help. When he says “You weren’t loyal to me,” he’s absolutely right. The same episode, “Return to Kamino,” gives Omega two powerful lines that the group rallies behind:

Omega: “[The danger] doesn’t matter. Saving Hunter is what matters.”

AZ: “You must leave.”

Omega: “Not without Hunter.”

The key word there is “Hunter.” Danger, stakes, risk, probability… none of that matters when Hunter needs help. Crosshair did not receive that same level of devotion.

Which creates a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. The group is upset that Crosshair isn’t rejoining them, but they fail to realize that he has no reason to trust them anymore. He’s not joining the Empire because he’s inherently evil and that’s that, end of discussion. He’s joining it because above all Crosshair wants a place to belong… and TBB has made it clear—unintentionally—that he does not belong with them. The horrible actions that Crosshair took under his own free will (theoretically) came after he realized that doing bad things while under the Empire’s control was, apparently, unforgivable. If it wasn’t, his team would have come back to rescue him. They could have at least tried. But they didn’t, so Crosshair is left with the conclusion that either what he did under the Empire’s control is something the group can’t forgive him for, or they can forgive that (like with Wrecker) and he’s the problem here. He’s the one not worth that effort.

“The Empire will be fazing out clones next,” Hunter says. To which Crosshair responds, “Not the ones that matter.”

He wants to matter to someone and events show he no longer matters to his brothers. So why not stay with the Empire? I mean, we as the audience ABSOLUTELY know why not. Self-doubt and feelings of isolation aren’t excuses for joining the Super Evil Organization. Crosshair, if he is under his own control, is still 100% in the wrong for supporting them, no matter his reasons. So it’s not an excuse, but rather an explanation of that very human, flawed, fallible thinking. He needs to be useful. He needs to be wanted. Crosshair is an absolute dick to the regs and I have no doubt that a lot of that stems from the harassment TBB has experienced from them (with a side of his inflated ego), but I’d bet it’s also due to Crosshair’s intense desire to be valuable to someone. He keeps pointing out the regs’ supposed deficiencies because it highlights his own usefulness. When Crosshair fails to find Hera, the Admiral says that soon he’ll get someone who can, looking straight at Howzer at the door. It makes Crosshair seethe because his entire identity is based on being useful, yet no one seems to need him anymore. TBB seems to no longer want him. The Empire no longer wants clones. Now even regs are considered a better option than him, the “superior” soldier. Everywhere Crosshair turns he’s getting the message that he’s not wanted, but he’ll keep fighting to at least be needed in some capacity, no matter how small. Even if that means overlooking all the horrors the Empire commits.

“All you’ll ever be to [the Empire] is a number,” Hunter says and he’s absolutely right. But to TBB recently, Crosshair hasn’t even been that. He’s been nothing. Nobody worth coming back for. To his mind, at least being a number is something.

I hope that all of this resolves itself into a conclusion that is kind to each side (preferably without a Vader-style death redemption), especially given the still ambiguous state of the chip, but from a writing standpoint I’m admittedly a bit wary. We’re obviously meant to believe that the batch all love each other, but as established throughout this entirely too long post, this season did a terrible job imo of proving that they love Crosshair. Or, at least, proving that they love him as much as the others. If this was really meant to be just a matter of miscommunication, with Crosshair making terrible life choices because he only thinks he was abandoned, then we as the audience would have seen the batch trying and failing to get him out. Or at least establishing a very good reason why they couldn’t take that risk, hopefully with entirely different side-missions so the audience isn’t constantly going, “So you can risk everything for Gregor... but not Crosshair?” I’m VERY glad that Crosshair was allowed to air his grievances to the extent he did, but the end result of that—Hunter continually denying this, Omega walking away from him in their rooms, neither Tech nor Wrecker actually sticking up for him and acknowledging the chip’s influence during at least some of all this—is making things feel rather one-sided. It’s like we’re meant to take Crosshair at his word and accept that he’s this garden-variety antagonist who joins the Empire because yay being on the winning side… despite all these complications that clearly have a huge impact on how we read the situation. It doesn’t help that the show has already embraced an inconsistent manner of portraying chipped-clones. We know every clone has one, we know only a couple clones are aware of the chip’s existence (and can thus try to get it out), we know they enter a “Good soldiers follow orders” mindlessness once activated… yet towards the end we see a lot of side character clones thinking for themselves. Howzer decides that he’s no longer loyal to the Empire, giving a speech where a couple other clones throw down their weapons too. Gregor was arrested because he likewise realized how wrong this all was. But how is that possible? Do the chips completely control the clones, or not? Are these clones somehow exceptions? Are the chips beginning to fail? All of that has a bearing on how we read Crosshair—what were his own decisions, how much he was capable of overcoming the chip, whether that changed at all during certain points—but right now that remains really unclear.

It’s details like that which make me wonder if all these other questions will be answered. Will the story resolve all those ambiguous moments surrounding the chip, or brush them off with the belief that we should have just taken Crosshair at his equally ambiguous word? Will the story acknowledge Crosshair’s points through someone other than Crosshair, allowing it to exist as a legitimate criticism, rather than the presumed excuses of an antagonist? I’m… not sure. On the whole I’m very happy with TBB’s writing—despite what all this might imply lol. Until my brain picks over the season and discovers something else, my only other gripe is not allowing Omega to form a solid bond with Tech and Echo, instead putting all the focus on big brother!Wrecker and dad!Hunter. I think it’s a solid show that does a lot right, but I’m worried that, unless there’s a brilliant answer to all these questions and an intent to unpack both sides of the Hunter vs. Crosshair debate with respect—not just falling back on, “Well, Crosshair is with the Empire so everything he says is automatically bad and wrong” take—we’ve just gotten the setup for a somewhat messy, ethical story. For anyone here who also reads my RWBY metas, I’m pretty sure you’re not at all surprised that I’m invested in going, “Hey, you had one of the heroes suddenly become/join a dictatorship and do a lot of horrific things, but within a pretty complicated context. Can we please work through that carefully and with an acknowledgement of the nuance here, rather than throwing the ‘evil’ character to the proverbial wolves?”  

God knows TBB is leagues ahead of RWBY, but I hope things continue on in not just a good direction, but one that tackles the aspects of this situation that many fans—and Crosshair—have already pointed out. As much as I adore the cast—and I really, really do—it was discomforting to watch a found family show where 4/5th of that family so completely wrote off one of the members and crucially have, at least so far, refused to acknowledge that. I want complicated, flawed characters, but that’s only compelling when the storytelling admits to and grapples with those flaws. We have quite firmly established Crosshair’s flaws in Season One. I hope Season Two delves into the rest of the team’s too.

Aaaand with that meta-dump out of my system, I’m off to write TBB fic. Thanks for reading! :D

#The Bad Batch #TBB #Crosshair #Star Wars #SW #mymetas #do I take my life in my hands #by posting SW meta? #probably lol

[wornoutmouse]

May I request Ogun with a Black shy female reader doing a training session that leads to a little bit more 🙈

Anon please

You’re a second-generation pyrokinetic (Like Joker and Maki). Idk why but I made up in my head that you have flint-bottomed tap-dancing shoes that briefly light when you scrape your feet against the floor…..so that’s where you get your fire from 🤣🤣🤣

This one is a bit longer than normal cause i gotta build the tension

I am terrible at action scenes bruh

Chug- lift heels, slide forward, and then drop the heels at the end of the slide forwards

“Hey, Y/n!” You look up from the bland mashed potatoes and corn Company 5 had prepared. It was a hot Sunday morning and your partner in crime was as excited as ever. He stood a few feet away at the back entrance in the cafeteria. Cocking a thumb behind him, he dawns a toothy grin. “Want to play a quick game?” The game Ogun hinted at was one you were quite familiar with and one you should have known he would ask you to participate in today. “Fine, but don’t cry when I win.” You scoop another spoonful of corn before tossing your tray away for recycling. You’d need all your strength cause Ogun never lost without asking for back-to-back redos.

.You didn’t quite understand the need to be sweaty all the time, but always gave in to his whims

Ogun preferred to train in the field where the sun shined the most throughout the day at the far left of the Company. Often as you went on throughout your day-to-day training, you’d spot Ogun doing laps and practicing his attacks throughout the day.

“I’m feeling fired up today Y/n, you might want to be worried.” You close your eyes as you stretched an arm over your chest. You had yet to lose but you knew Ogun only saw that as a personal goal to get past. “Let’s get this over with, I’m tired.” The smell of smoke enters your nostrils giving you enough time to dodge Oguns boosted attack. “I told you about letting yourself known Mr. Montgomery.” You open your eyes, Oguns skin was lit ablaze with his pyrokinetic abilities.

From afar you’ve always admired the swirls that decorated his skin whenever you got amped up, and this time was no different. “I see you’re already using “Flaming Ink” what, you already scared?” Ogun widened his stance, glowing white eyes watching you shift your feet. “I’ve been working on a new move that I want to show you so why don’t you try your little fire trick.”

Curious, you scuff your shoe on the floor and draw your fire...only the fire doesn’t come. You do it again and the light goes out just as quick as it came. “What did you do?” You narrowed your eyes at Ogun. “Oh nothing, I’m just faster than you now.” You take a few steps back, “Oh that’s how you want to play it? Okay!” You take off running at the very edge of the field and Ogun is fast behind you. Internally you admit that he had gotten much faster, but a simple fact as that wasn’t going to make you lose.

Doing your best to maintain speed, you chug and draw the flames close to your chest out of Montgomery’s line of sight. It was small, mostly snuffed by the kick of your legs as you ran but it was big enough to get the job done. Similar to Ogun in his natural state, you too could throw projectiles just not as damage-inducing.

Turning around as you run, your eyes widen when Ogun appears just inches in front of you, “Surprise!” Your flame is snuffed and you tumble bringing Montgomery down with you. You prepare to feel your body be crushed by his muscled one but at the last minute your shoulders are grabbed and you flip again. The change in elevation causes you to lose a bit of focus, but you can still clearly feel Ogun cushion your fall.

“Oh wow, this looks like something out of an anime.” Ogun laughs when he finds himself lying flat on his back, you positioned comfortably on top of him. The position was completely ridiculous with your thighs straddling his stomach but you were thankful that you wouldn’t be in any sort of pain later.

“Looks like I’ll need to train harder huh?” You playfully punch Ogun’s shoulder. Even though the whole ordeal only lasted 6 minutes, you could feel your back drenched with sweat. While you couldn’t wait to get in the shower, Ogun seemed content with being in a salty state. “You’re dripping all over me you know?” Your head immediately snapped down to look at Ogun with wide eyes, “Excuse me?”

Ogun had a neutral look on his face not hinting at any humor behind his words. “You’re sweating really bad. Did little ole me get you all worked up?” He had to be teasing you at this point, but you couldn’t find a single crack in his facade. “Yeah well, maybe if you didn’t choose this big ass field with no trees I wouldn’t be 2 seconds from passing out.” You stand up, a bit wobbly, and help him up. “I’m going to go shower, you can stay out here if you want to.”

Ogun happily joins you on the way to the showers. You could hear his excitement from finally beating you. “Don’t get cocky, it was a one-time occurrence Ogun.” An arm is slung over your shoulder. In a smug tone, Ogun mocks you, “Don’t be mad cause you lost. You’ve had enough time to be cocky on your own terms.” You gasp mockingly before turning your head to spit back a remark but lose your breath from how close his face is to yours. At such close proximity, you become aware of small details. How his skin shinned in the sunlight, how Oguns eyes contained such a very specific hue of orange that they mimicked the fire of Sol almost precisely. You even wouldn’t be surprised if they would burn to the touch.

“What’s the matter, got nothing to say?” Out of instinct, you shove his head away with so much force he goes flying before landing on his ass. Before any questions are asked you deflect, “Gross I got your B.O all on my shoulders.” From behind Ogun scoffs, “How dare you, any other fine lady would be blessed to be near my manly musk.” Stifling a laugh you utter one final tease before slipping into the girl’s shower, “Yeah, manly must.”

It was endless labor as your captain followed you around, blowing that damn whistle. Given laundry duty, you had to take multiple shifts back and forth throughout each level of the building to collect everyone’s clothing. When you came across Ogun’s level your job was hindered as you were forced to wait as he sifts through his piles of dirty laundry, “Trush me Y/n, there’s a shirt that I accidentally put in here but it’s actually clean.” “Ogun if it’s in the dirty clothes then it’s dirty.” You try to haul his stuff out but he stops you. “I swear if you don’t move I’ll burn your stuff.”

Ogun chuckles, “You burn my clothes and it’ll catch your clothing as well.” Ogun reaches inside the pile you held pulling out a blank white T-shirt that looked annoyingly similar to the 12 other T-shirts you had watched him toss to the side. “Unless of course, you’re trying to go streaking which by all means I encourage you to.” You ignore his joke and pretend it doesn’t strike a certain feeling in your gut.

For your next task, you had to prepare different levels of activities for a group of 5th graders coming to the company the next day. Of course, Ogun would be assigned to the same task as well so while you worked diligently to bring equipment from the storage room, Ogun spent his time using each of the items incorrectly. “Please stop bouncing the footballs with the tennis racket before you get hurt.” Ogun ignored you as he dribbled with the racket. “Don’t be mad cause you’re not as creative as me.”

Well, as you predicted Ogun ends up getting punted in the face when he tries to toss the football in the hoop. Even though the sound it made on impact was loud and hollow, Ogun barely flinches when it ricochets. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with getting hit in the face with balls, you barely moved.” Ogun glared as he watched you pick up the football. Absentmindedly you spin the football as you speak, “You know if I didn’t know any bet-” Your speech is gargled when your mouth becomes stuffed.

While you weren’t watching Ogun through a basketball at your hand making you push the end of the football in your mouth. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with balls in your mouth, you gotta show me some time.” You cradle your mouth, it throbbed with dull pain and resentment filled your mind. “I’m sure it’ll be easy, there aren’t going to be too many inches stopping me.”

At this point, both your nerves are on high alert, and the energy in the air shifts from playful to angry. “Oh yeah?” Ogun walks slowly and calmly towards you, raising a brow when you stumble back yet still maintain your glare. The hand cradling your jaw is held tightly in his grasp, “Would you like to try?” The dare only eggs you on, “You won’t last a second.” The faint twitch of his temple lets you know you hit a nerve.

*Wheeeeze*

Both you and Ogun’s heads snap to the left. Pan stood at the gym doorway arms waving and whistle blowing, a clear attempt at reprimanding your laziness. The playful aura comes back and you and Ogun are subjected to extra work for your negligence. “This is your fault you know.” he shoots back, “I don’t want to hear it Montgomery.”

Ogun walked down the hallway in search of a new victim to torture, so it was only pure convenience when he stumbled near your living quarters and caught you just before you walked inside. “Y/n! You were absent for dinner.” You take one look at him before dashing into your room. All you wanted was to sleep, training with Ogun, and then having to complete your own set of chores plus extra was tiering. So seeing Ogun wandering out and about during the late hours only met trouble.

You jolt from your train of thought as your door is banged on. “Go away Montgomery, I’m trying to sleep.” Ogun whined, “Well you weren’t trying too hard cause you weren’t in your room yet, now let me in.” You kicked the door back, “No, now go away!”

No sound is heard, not even a shuffle. Sighing you walk towards your bed with a content smile, you’d apologize to him later but now it was your time for rest. Heavy wind billowed through your opened window making you shiver as the curtains tickle your skin. The sharp coolness made your teeth rattle but it was just the right amount of cool you needed in order to head off quickly to dream land. Turning the dial of your lamp, your room is shrouded in darkness and you climb underneath the covers. Nothing could stop the relaxation you were about to receive…….nothing but the feeling of “something ain’t right.”

Opening your eyes and expecting the worse, you are then greeted with the worst as the same fiery eyes you admired hours before, hovered above your face. “You should really close your window.” You scream and throw a punch in Oguns direction but it is in vain as he catches it and pins it down. “I should really get you back for doing that earlier.” Ogun doesn’t make any move to let you go or even speak again. “How the hell did you get there so fast?” You are unable to look away from his eyes, nothing else would have mattered anyway.

More wind blows through your curtains. “I told you I’ve gotten faster.” You can feel his breath caressing your cheek the closer he gets to your face. The hand wrapped around your wrist tightens despite your body being slackened. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah”

No one knows who moved first. All you know is that your pajamas were being ripped off of your body as Ogun aggressively devoured your lips. Tossing everything to the ground, Ogun sits above you, with his shirt was off, you are given the liberty to admire his chiseled body. Ogun makes quick work with fingering you open, watching with a toothy grin as your chest shakes and your breath stutters. “Not talking much now are you?” He doesn’t care if you respond, all he cares about is wearing you down. You pull him closer, nails dragging down his back, as your orgasm overwhelms you. “Ogun!” Your legs are hiked up and over his shoulders as he positions below you.

“Good job, I don’t want to hear anything else but my name.” The stretch was burning and filled you tightly. “How many inches you think that is?” You weakly slap Ogun’s arm as he weakly ruts into you before pulling out completely, “S-Stop making fun of me.” “ Aww, but it’s fun!” Ogun is slow and precise as he mashes his hips forward. There is no hesitation and the pace stays at a fluid toe-curling pressure. “You’re so silent now Y/n. Tell me, how does it feel, huh?” Your back raises from off the bed, “It...good-I oh god!”

The simple fact that you couldn’t speak sent tremors to Oguns cock. He wanted to tease you more, make you break. Your pussy was wet and sopping for him and not even Sol could make him stop fucking you, not when you looked so beautiful underneath him. But a mischievous streak doesn’t go away that easy.

Leaning back on his haunches, you are put back on top of Ogun, the same position you were in when on the feild. He doesn’t move and just looks at you, “What are, what are you doing?” You try to bounce but he holds you down making you pulse around him. “Please let me move.” But he doesn’t, the only movement you get is when you’re held down harder on his cock. “How many inches Y/n?” You shrug, “I don’t freaking know like 5 or something!?” You just wanted to cum not answer a random questionnaire.

Ogun uses his strength to lift you up and slam you back down. “Wrong, try again.” It takes a moment for you to catch the breath that got knocked out at the second stroke. “Do you really want me to stroke your stupid ego, fine 8inches!” You are slammed down again and this time it hits a special spot just short of your G. “Wrong again, don’t be a smart ass Y/n” He rubbed your side. “Come on, play my game for a little bit, don’t you want to cum on my dick?” Oguns hands squeeze your breasts, thumbs rotating the dark circles of your areolas leaving your nipples to tingle in need.

“Si-Six damn it! It has to be like 6.” your answer is mumbled but is loud enough to satisfy Ogun. As if you weighed nothing less than a piece of paper, Ogun uses his thighs to bounce you on his cock. Your chest bounces in his face taking his immature mind to cloud nine. He could feel the tell tell sign of his own orgasms cumming, as your ass slammed down on his shaft. “Stop squeezing down so damn hard!”

Being the person you are, you don’t listen even after you feel Ogun spill inside of you. “Oh fuck!” You rearrange your own legs and start bouncing at your own pace. The tight grip on your waist means nothing as you chase your second cumming. “Hurry up you little shit my balls are burning!” Ogun tossed his head back as his mouth releases cracked moans. His cock continued to twitch as it became softer but still stimulated. Soon, Ogun couldn’t take the stimuli anymore and pushes you down on the bed. The feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy was a little less satisfying than his cock but you cream around it just as easily.

You lay down giggling while Ogun goes in and out of sleep. “I was right, you didn’t last a second.” “Shut the hell up, you’re like a vice.” Your sweaty state somehow doesn’t bother you as you rest in the afterglow. Your blinds continue to shimmer as the wind continues to blow. “Five and a half.” The numbers mean nothing to your muddled brain, “What?” Ogun looks at you, “5 and a half inches is the correct answer but I appreciate the 6.”

Suddenly the glow was no longer worth it.

#ogun x reader #ogun smut #fire force smut #anime smut #poc reader

[gojology]

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 |  omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general.   Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades.   You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch.   Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards.    Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel.    The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back.    But the custom notification was sweet as well.   You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.   Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them.   You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances.   You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one.   Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.”   Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone.    In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.”   Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.”   You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible.   “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)”   You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen.    “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.”   Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep.  ‧₊˚✩彡.   You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel.   Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle.   “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him.   He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars.   “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.”   You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.”   Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡.    Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face.     “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes.     “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!”    “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.”     Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer.     “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!”     “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind.     “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present.    “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for.    The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life.    A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated:    “WELCOME BACK QT”    “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW”    Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit.     Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone.   “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!”    Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo.   Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed.     Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡.    You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room.     Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents.     The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched.     The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest.    The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together.     Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two.    “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight.     “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see.    “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?”     You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again.     “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined.     “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?”     “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?”     He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room.     “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint.    Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala.     “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.”     Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued.     “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table.     Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.”     “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in.    The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool.     “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again.     “Where do you guys know eachother?”    “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?”    “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?”    “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?”     “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?”     “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?”      Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up.     “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper.     An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji.    “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?”    Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards.     “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.”    “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together.    Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.”    Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again.    Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.    

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #wife reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk gojo #saturo gojou #gojou #jjk yuuji #yuuji itadori #jjk nobara #nobarakugisaki #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen nobara #nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami

[mikami]

Hello! I hope you're having a good day :). Do you have any manga or anime recommendations, not necessarily similar to Death Note? Thanks!

I am so glad they don't necessarily need to be similar to Death Note because my taste in anime is all over the place and most often not DN-like at all! I am also very happy to recommend shows!!

So here it is:

Luna's Anime Recommendations (2021 Edition)

Ordered alphabetically because I don't think I could do a ranking. This is adapted from a post I made in 2019 and updated to my recent opinions with some removals and some additions.

Boku Dake Ga Inai Machi (The Town Where Only I Am Missing) / Erased

OPENING

Genre: Thriller, Drama, Murder Mystery Content Warnings: child abuse, implied pedophilia, instances of drowning Episode Count: 12 My Rating: 9/10 - This one I would recommend for fans of Death Note because it’s actually a crime story and thus has the suspense and mind-games vibe in place, while also being very emotionally touching and well-directed.

Bokurano / Ours

OPENING

Genre: Mecha, Drama, Psychological Content Warnings: child death, child abuse, self-harm, suicide, csa, assault - just assume that most upsetting things will be in, this one is heavy Episode Count: 24 My Rating: 10/10 - Bokurano has one of the bleakest stories I have ever seen and yet manages to be one of the most life-affirming shows I know. Bokurano destroyed me emotionally but it left me feeling an appreciation towards life that even some uplifting stories cannot evoke.

Canaan

OPENING

Genre: Action, Yuri-adjacent Content Warnings: gore / mild body horror, terrorism Episode Count: 13 My Rating: 8/10 - Canaan is not objectively quite a masterpiece, but it sticks out for being a female-dominated action show with a lesbian main couple. I watched it as a teenager and return to it often.

ClassicaLoid

OPENING

Genre: Comedy, Music Content Warnings: some of the composers are genderswapped from their historical selves and they are aware of that fact - I don't find it horribly transphobic, but it's also not precisely nuanced, so it's something to keep in mind. Episode Count: 50 (split over 2 seasons) My Rating: 9/10 - I’ll be honest, the first few episodes of this are a drag but past episode 5 it has quickly evolved into one of my favourite anime. It’s highly silly the majority of the time but it doesn’t miss its impact when it gets emotional. Might not be everyone’s thing, but once you've acquired a taste for it, it's great.

Death Parade

OPENING

Genre: Drama, Psychological Content Warnings: heavily deals with suicide Episode Count: 12 My Rating: 9/10 - despite the uplifting opening, this one emotionally wrecked me in a very good way. It has the one-frame Light Yagami cameo, too!

Gatchaman CROWDS

OPENING

Genre: Superhero, Sci-Fi, Social Commentary Content Warnings: forced kissing, transphobia (gnc main character can be read as nonbinary or a transgirl and experiences a lot of violence, another character is an okama stereotype though they’re portrayed as a positive and supportive figure) Episode Count: 24 (split in 2 seasons) My Rating: 8,5/10 - a colorful wild ride with overall positive messages - I didn't like the second season as much as the first when this one came out, but now I think its commentary on the rise of populism isn't without merit...

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun

OPENING Genre: Comedy Content Warnings: N/A Episode Count: 12 My Rating: 8,5/10 - simply extremely hilarious.

Houkago no Pleiades

OPENING Genre: Magical Girl Content Warnings: N/A Episode Count: 12 My Rating: 9,5/10 - I spent 7 years waiting for this show so I might be a bit biased, but I do think it turned out great. It falls a bit into the Cute Girls Doing Cute Things category, but it does it all so genuinely and gently. Also it made me cry.

Hugtto! Precure

OPENING

Genre: Magical Girl Content Warnings: talk of pregnancy, depiction of various negative experience like bullying and parental abuse but in a child-safe way Episode Count: 49 My Rating: 10/10 - this show absolutely succeeds at being what it is, which is a warm magical girl show about themes of parenthood. Where the premise is wildly "I'm gonna keep it real with you 49th prime minister of Japan Shinzo Abe", the execution is incredible and does not feel forced. Bonus for containing a nonbinary character!!

Mahoutsukai no Yome

OPENING Genre: Fantasy Content Warnings: mild body horror, child abuse, choking, suicide Episode Count: 24 My Rating: 9/10 - fantastic shoujo anime about finding family and your will to live

Mawaru Penguindrum

OPENING Genre: Drama, Mystery, Just Totally Surreal Shit, Social Commentary Content Warnings: child abuse, incest, attempt rape, csa, stalking, terrorism Episode Count: 24 My Rating: 9,5/10 - made me cry for like half an hour every week a new episode aired. A look at ‘unwanted children’ and what becomes of them.

Mobile Suit Gundam

OPENING Genre: Mecha, War Drama Content Warnings: War and associated atrocities Episode Count: 43 My Rating: 10/10 - if you think you can brave the leap to a 70s anime, you will find this one incredibly worthwhile. Not only is it an anime that has impacted the industry until today and will thus reveal much context to you, it is also a story that still holds up beautifully even 40 years later.

Noein: Mou Hito No Kimi e / Noein: To Your Other Self

OPENING Genre: Sci-Fi, Drama Content Warnings: child abuse Episode Count: 24 My Rating: 9/10 - a pretty intriguing time-travel / alternate reality anime that I am still rotating in my brain.

Oniisama e… / Dear Brother

OPENING Genre: Yuri, Drama Content Warnings: suicide, self-harm, drug abuse, terminal illness, incest Episode Count: 39 My Rating: 10/10 - the anime Utena is primarily based on. If you ever watch any classic Yuri story, make it this one.

Pretty Rhythm: Rainbow Live

OPENING Genre: Idol, Magical Girl Content Warnings: parental abuse, parent death Episode Count: 51 My Rating: 9/10 - though it starts out a little slow, Rainbow Live really does everything you could possibly want from a teen shoujo show. It has an incredible cast of characters with incredible emotional journeys and I want to rewatch it badly.

Princess Tutu

OPENING  Genre: Magical Girl, Fairytale, Ballet Content Warnings: nothing specific that I can think of, just expect abusive dynamics (portrayed negatively) Episode Count: 38 My Rating: 9/10 - absolutely brilliant take on fairy tale tropes; dark, yet hopeful, atmospheric to the max

Sakamoto Desu Ga

OPENING Genre: Comedy Content Warnings: one episode contains an anti-Korean slur Episode Count: 12 My Rating: 8,5/10 - watch the opening and Understand

Shoujo Kakumei Utena

OPENING Genre: Yuri, Surreal, Social Commentary Content Warnings: incest (condemned by the narrative), rape, suicide Episode Count: 39 My Rating: 10/10 - possibly the most impact-full piece of yuri anime out there. If you haven’t seen Utena, you don’t know anime.

Simoun

OPENING Genre: Fantasy, Mecha, Yuri Content Warnings: this show is about Gender in a very dystopian way. Every character is born afab and chooses their gender at age 18 to integrate into a deeply gendered society and it's... a doozy. Also there is incest (portrayed negatively) and kisses with a young teenage character. Episode Count: 26 My Rating: 8/10 - Is Simoun good? I could not tell you. It's a show about girls and gender that was written by men and it shows, but on the other hand it has really thought-provoking world-building and interesting characters who in part reject gender outright. It's a work I always come back to thinking a lot about.

Sora Yori Mo Tooi Basho

OPENING Genre: Adventure, Slice of Life Content Warnings: emetophobia  Episode Count: 13 My Rating: 10/10 - an absolutely incredible anime with no weak moments. Stunning exploration of friendship and mourning. PLEASE WATCH.

Terra e…

OPENING Genre: Sci-Fi, Drama, Space War Content Warnings: the story deals with genocide  Episode Count: 24 My Rating: 10/10 - 2000s anime adaptation of an ultimate manga classic that does an incredible job. I’ve never seen a big cast of characters handled so well while covering so many years of plot. Absolutely stunning.

Tsuritama

OPENING Genre: Fishing, Friendship + Aliens = The Spirit of Youth Content Warnings: N/A Episode Count: 12 My Rating: 10/10 - this anime means more to me than any other on this list. Main character has severe social anxiety. Fantastic friendship story.

Vivy: Fluorite Eyes' Song

OPENING Genre: Sci-Fi, Drama, Music Content Warnings: suicide Episode Count: 13 My Rating: 9/10 - a very recent gem! Following Vivy, a singing robot, through a 100 years of history in order to protect the human race. It delves deeply into what self and happiness might mean, even when you aren't a biological human.

Yagate Kimi ni Naru

OPENING Genre: Yuri, Slice of Life Content Warnings: N/A but it does deal with mental health Episode Count: 13 My Rating: 9/10 - a Yuri anime that actually winds up addressing lesbian identity and exploring how internalized homophobia can make it hard for you to realize when you’re falling in love. Very good.

#i guess my genres are GIRLS and SCI FI and an overlap thereof huh #answers #ref #not dn

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 4

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers

A/N: The song featured in the kitchen scene is Fantasy by Mariah Carey.

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

You were puzzling. Alone in your bedroom, laying within the comfort of your own bed, you were positively puzzling.

After sorting out just who Ben was and fixing the damage Baekhyun had done to your reputation by explaining that your idiot roommate had just gotten a hold of your phone, you reintroduced yourself and apologized for the confusion.

This ‘Ben’ actually seemed to laugh off the odd behavior he’d gotten as a first impression of you, mentioning that your roommate seemed funny, if not weirdly protective of you.

You could see what he meant when you read through the rapid fire questions Baekhyun had asked him from his age, to his preferred operating system, whether or not Ben had Facebook so “you” and him could be friends, his profession, and his parents line of work, his current place of work, how long he’s worked there and whether or not he moves around a lot, his hometown, his hobbies and even whether or not Ben has now or has ever had any pets; it seemed that Baekhyun had actually done a whole lot of legwork to give you a pretty good idea of what Ben might be like.

But the moment Baekhyun’s conversation topic changed to innocently ask Ben for his astrological sign, something struck you as off to see Baekhyun proclaim you to also be the same sign and after the two compared birthdays you began to find the whole exchange quite odd.

You realized that Baekhyun had simply lied about your birthday. Baekhyun knew your birthday. Why had he given a fake date to Ben? Unless there was something else happening that you didn’t understand. Then again, Baekhyun had always been rather stingy about giving out personal information; both yours and his. He was probably just being cautious about revealing too much to a stranger.

And actually, Ben seemed rather …. nice. You always hesitated to give them this adjective right off the bat as most of the guys you met who seemed nice right away turned out to be very good at faking nice and stringing along at least three or four girls at once for the shot at fucking at least one of them, and the hopes of fucking all of them.

You’d been called the wrong name late at night, whispered through a sleepy voice over the phone. You’d been sweet-talked and then abruptly called a bitch for refusing to send nudes to a guy you’d been talking to for only a week. Apparently a week was his limit and all his other girls gave him what he wanted within a couple of days. You’d been ghosted by nice guys who felt victimized and led on when you said goodnight politely with a smile and a wave instead of inviting them inside for ramen.

You did want a nice guy. But you wanted a real one.

What you wouldn’t give for one of them, for just one of them to be honest with you and really show you their true self.

Perhaps you had been going about it all wrong.

Your conversation with Ben quietly fizzled and you put your phone away to charge and now, now you were simply puzzling.

It panged at your heart to think of it, but the upset with Baekhyun hours earlier kept replaying in your mind. You propped your feet up on your wall and let your head hang off the edge of your bed, enjoying the way the gravity pulled at the blood in your brain and you tapped your fingers on the bed absentmindedly to the soft beat of music you heard playing from his room.

And you puzzled.

Don’t use your beauty as a weapon against me.

You hadn’t been this bothered by something since you’d watched that Mission Impossible movie the first time and spent an hour and a half trying to wrap your head around the complicated plot.

A Weapon.

Your beauty … a weapon … against me.

Why did it bother you so much? Why had he been so upset that you were playing with him, that you were messing with him. He messed with you all the time. You messed with him just as much. He never got this upset. No, he never got upset in this way. In such a way as to call you out on using something you had, against him. Something that you hadn’t even known had any power at all to attack the man. Your beauty. Did you have such a thing?

You thought about the other times you fought with him.

Not really fought, the two of you never did that, but that fake sort of fighting like when he’d woken you up at 2am for the third night in a row with his loud working music and you found him out in the kitchen disassembling your favorite toaster, the one with the wide slots for bagels that also toasts four slices of bread at once and even has special buttons for frozen items. The stainless steel one that you won in a work raffle and proudly marched through the office carrying with a huge smile on your face. It was a deluxe model. Supreme even. The master of it’s craft. Said so right on the box. Your toaster in a million pieces on your kitchen counter; all because he needed some components or resistors or whatever the fuck it was and he decided the best move was to take your toaster apart rather than to just order what he needed online and wait two business days for them to arrive.

Sure, he put it back together a few days later but not without enduring the laser eyes you shot him over breakfast when you had to toast a piece of bread in a frying pan on the stove like a loser who did not own a four slice Deluxe Toastmaster Supreme.

You’d planned your revenge then. It was something tiny and it involved his TV remote. His precious TV was enormous, took up almost the whole wall, OLED or SUPER-NANO or ULTRA-NANO some similar nonsense words and had 8-Ks of pixels or so he claimed and had so many smart functions you could hardly get comfortable using it for anything that didn’t involve the Netflix button. And no, no, you didn’t do anything to the actual TV. Relax, this was just the remote. This was harmless. Absolutely harmless. Easy to solve really if he had half a brain in his head.

You just carefully cut out the smallest tiniest piece of IR blocking tape that fit exactly over the infrared sensor on the remote control and fit so well it was undetectable to the human eye. Unless you knew it was there and knew exactly where to stick your fingernail in under the plastic bezel to peel it back. You simply applied the tape and left the remote right on the coffee table before you left for work.

You’d come home that night to a pile of assorted battery packs all strewn about the coffee table, and the remote completely taken apart down to the tiny circuit board and Baekhyun was quietly touching the tip of some tiny tool to the different spots on the scary looking green part from inside of the remote with all the metal bits stuck to it and when you slowly walked by he looked up at you through the magnifying eye glasses he wore. His eyes looked comically enormous and you swallowed away your laughter and considered how long you’d let him suffer.

“Something wrong with your remote, Peanut Butter?”

“It was working fine yesterday. I just don’t understand it.”

“Maybe it’s the batteries,” you offered innocently and he just ignored your helpful suggestion as he began screwing tiny screws into place with a precision screwdriver.

He was reassembling it all now and you sat down beside him on the sofa about as amused as you had ever been to sit and watch him suffer.

He grabbed two new batteries from an unopened pack on the table and aimed the remote, pressing the buttons again and again. Nothing happened.

He was surprisingly calm about the whole thing and judging by the various shopping bags and different brands of batteries you saw, he seemed to have been working on this all afternoon. Probably for hours now.

“I’m going to have to take the TV apart.”

He was already standing up and walking across the room toward the wall mounted monstrosity when you leaned forward for the remote. He glanced back at you as you did it and he looked at you just in time to see you shake the remote back and forth and then hit it twice lightly against your left hand. Just a little knock-knock should do it. You were careful to keep the expression on your face calm and well controlled.

When you pressed the power button, the big TV came to life and you pressed the button for Netflix and scrolled through your recommended titles. You had a new episode to watch. You’d have to make time tonight for that. After he was done with his little project here.

Baekhyun instantly pulled his hands away from the TV and hopped back and away from the screen, peering up at it with his mouth hanging wide open. His eyes shot back to where you sat on the sofa holding the remote control. You did not allow your smile to form. Nothing in your whole life had ever been so difficult. You felt as if you could pop right here. You casually flipped through the menu on the screen and the man looked back up at the TV and back down at you again.

You could see him coming in then. He was moving fast with several large steps toward you and with the quickest movement you could manage you used the tip of your finger to slide the IR tape back over the remote sensor. You could not be as precise as you had been before with him coming right at you so quickly, but hopefully it wouldn’t be visible.

He reached for the remote. “What did you do, how did you fix it?” He held it up and pointed it toward the TV. Again, the remote did not work. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek.

He was pressing buttons again and nothing happened with each new button he smashed down. You could see the madness growing in his eyes the more he tried.

He made the smallest whining sound from the back of his throat and it took every ounce of self control to keep from laughing as he lightly tapped the remote twice against his hand just as he had seen you do. Nothing.

You tried to hold it. You tried so hard. A tiny sound escaped, the smallest sniffle with a laugh broke free from your throat and you coughed lightly to hide it.

His face turned on you and those crazed eyes were back only instead of directing them at the remote, he was looking at you now.

“How did you fix it? Do it again.” He looked insane and desperate and a tiny smile betrayed you as you grabbed the remote from his hand. You played the smile off as part of the help you were willing to offer him but you also had to inhale a deep breath and carefully and slowly exhale it through your mouth to keep from breaking completely.

You held it up in your right hand and gave it a little shake. As quickly as you had done it before you turned the remote on its side as you gave those two little knocks and his head flipped toward the TV when you aimed. With his eyes averted you were able to slip the tape off just before pressing the button.

The Netflix logo greeted you and Baekhyun threw his head back and let out a loud frustrated yell into the ceiling above him.

You’d been holding your laugh for too long. It was becoming too difficult now and he was back, reaching for the remote when the first suffocating giggles took your composure and you laughed out loud.

Your laughter brought all of his attention right to you and only you. The entirety of his focus shifted and that brought those crazed eyes of his bearing down on you, wide and demanding.

It was, by far, the most successful and meanest prank you had ever played on him to date and you were gasping for air and laughing as he reached for you. He grasped both of your shoulders and he shook you as you laughed and laughed at the absolute madness in his eyes. Oh he was crazy. It was just so damn funny.

The remote was still in your hands and you flipped through the different inputs on the TV as you cackled and tears formed at the corners of your eyes.

“How did you do it? You devil! Tell me how you did it?”

He balanced with his knees on the couch and his hands were on you, roaming over the fabric of the sweater you wore, lifting your arms to look under them, maybe for spare remotes or for hidden batteries or secret formulas, who knows what he thought he might find.

You’d stashed the tiny circle of tape by sticking it to the skin inside your elbow and he was currently examining the fingers on all of your hands up close as if they concealed all of the secrets he was looking for.

It wasn’t until he searched higher, pulling your hand forward toward his chest and his thumb grazed against the shiny plastic of the tape circle you had on your inner arm when he did a double take, pulled your arm harder and lifted an accusing finger to point at the tape.

“What is that?!” He clearly thought himself to be the world’s greatest detective.  

You allowed yourself to be manhandled by him a little bit more as you got every bit of humor about your recent victory out of your chest and you lifted your other hand, the one he did not have held hostage right now to wipe at the tears that had fallen from your eyes.  

“Stop laughing and answer me, woman! What is it?”

“It’s my birth control patch,” you said through a laugh and his eyes widened as he pulled his hand back. It was a tiny movement but you were so close to his accusing eyes that it felt monumental and the dramatic reaction to your teasing lie made a fresh wave of laughter bubble up in your chest. You knew he would react this way. Any mention of your contraceptives always made him clam up.

“It’s IR tape, Baekhyun. Infrared blocking tape. I put it on the sensor this morning after breakfast. After I made toast in a pan instead of in my toaster.”

The truth pulled his whole head back and he fell down on his butt on the sofa briefly before he slipped and fell right off the couch onto the floor and he sat there with a blank lifeless look on his face; staring ahead without any focus in his eyes.

“Do you know how sad pan toast is, Baekhyun? Tell me, how am I supposed to be satisfied with pan toast when I should have been having Deluxe Toastmaster Supreme toast?”

He was shaking his head back and forth as you spoke and when he did move it was to lay down flat on his back on the floor of the living room. His hands were up and he rubbed roughly over his face.

“Oh my god. Oh my god—it’s so good. I would have never checked for tape over the sensor. Fucking tape. A piece of goddamn tape. I was so focused on the batteries.I went to three different stores today. The circuits to the sensor were all intact, I checked it, it was good — I never even considered this. Are you an evil genius? My sweet innocent Bug ... is actually an evil supervillain.”

You left him on the floor and made your way into the kitchen to make dinner. It was your night to cook and thanks to the man stewing on the floor of the living room you had to do it around the scattered carcass of your third favorite kitchen appliance.

You remembered the way he reacted then. He pouted and moaned on the floor for a few moments until he smelled the stew you were cooking on the stove. It was comfort food. Something with meat and potatoes and warmth and spices. It would lift anyone’s mood and his had been lifted almost immediately. There were no apologies or any tears. Just a promise to put the toaster back together tomorrow after he went to the store for the parts he needed and that was the end of it.

He didn't storm away. He didn't raise his voice or say you were mean or unfair or too beautiful for him to withstand. He didn't get angry about closeness being used the wrong way, in a way that was unfair to him. In a way that could hurt him, like a weapon.

If he said you had the kind of beauty that could be used against him, didn't that mean he found you beautiful? Wouldn't that mean that Baekhyun found you attractive?

The words protested inside your mind. You shook your head.

That was impossible. Definitely. You’ve been so close to him for so long without even a hint of that sort of a feeling from him. Sure you were close to each other. Sure you cared for each other. It was a familiar sort of affection you shared. But attraction? Because he found you beautiful in a way that was unfair?

The puzzling was giving you a headache. There were some things that just did not exist in the same space in your mind and that was the existence of your roommate, Byun Baekhyun, and the possibility that he was attracted to you in any way.

You’d been inside your bedroom for hours now and you were no closer to answers than when you first came in here.

Baekhyun would be done with his episode. He would have watched it with Mia and discussed themes or scenes or dramatic moments with her. Did he talk to her on the phone or maybe though a headset as they streamed the episode together.

Did he like her voice and did she like his jokes?

Did he make her laugh? Of course he did. He made everyone laugh. Baekhyun was charming and hilarious. But could she make him laugh? Could she make him giggle and shake like he laughed with you?

It was late. That didn't really mean all that much to Baekhyun, as the man didn't really have any set bedtime and usually just fell asleep when the sun began to come up. It was a weekend night and you didn't have work in the morning and frankly your curiosity had grown too much for you to just stay in here and fall asleep without at least checking on how the streaming date went.

You knocked lightly on his door. You could hear music playing inside. Nothing too loud or crazy. The man seemed to be having a somewhat low key evening.

“Yeah,” his voice called lowly and you opened the door and peeked your head inside.

“How is our girlfriend doing?” Baekhyun was sitting on his butt on the floor in front of his bed with his head laid over his arms and his phone abandoned in the middle of the floor out of arm’s reach.

He let out a long low groan but did not lift his head up when you stepped inside.

“I don't even know. I don't know.” He sounded defeated already and this had only just started.

“Peanut, what happened?” You picked up the phone and unlocked the screen, searching through his apps to find the dating app so you could see if they had said anything to each other that might give you some clues about what went wrong.

“Nothing happened. I was too quiet. I couldn’t talk at all. I didn't say anything during the entire episode. Why is this so scary. Uggghhh...I feel unsafe. It’s gross.”

You stepped over him and climbed onto his bed, sitting up against the head of the bed as you scrolled through the chat logs.

It looked normal. Not unfriendly. A little terse and abrupt on his part. The man didn't know how to loosen up when he talked to girls and you wondered if maybe you needed more one on one lessons with him before he was really ready for this stuff.

When you leaned back against the headboard you felt the bed dip and he climbed onto the bed beside you and angled his body toward where you sat up against the pillows.

When you got to the end of the chat you could see that she was the last one to speak and she remarked that he felt a bit different from when they spoke at the beginning of the day. He didn't say anything in response to that.

Baekhyun moaned with his eyes closed and he turned his head into your waist. He was obviously reliving some perceived embarrassment he must have felt during the interaction with Mia and when he moved his arm around your waist you looked down to find yourself trapped under his arm that constricted as he pulled tightly, hiding the entirety of his face somewhere in the shirt you wore. He was warm. The weight of his arm around you felt nice.

“I felt so unsafe,” he repeated his complaint from earlier and his voice was obscured and muffled as he hid himself. He switched the tense though and you wondered if he no longer felt unsafe now that you had come in.

You typed out a quick response to Mia. You didn't think it was right to just leave her hanging without an explanation for his strange silence during and after the show.

“I’m going to tell her that you were so quiet because you were nervous. I’ll also thank her for watching the episode tonight.”

You heard and felt a hum and the tightness of his arm around your waist relaxed a little as his arm went slack. He did not move though. He still hugged you. He was still warm and it took only a moment for your nose to pick up the pleasant smell of his clean bed sheets fresh from the dryer. You both had a schedule for washing things like towels and bed sheets. Yours had been cleaned today as well, but something about the smell of his bed felt better than yours had. Perhaps it had been all that difficult puzzling that had tainted yours.

Mia responded right away to your message. She was flattered by his nervousness. You could tell with the way she reassured that he really didn't have to be nervous around her. That she was an easy going kinda girl. Low maintenance she said. You scoffed at the thought of a computer geek being low maintenance. As if you didn't know how difficult to obtain fancy GPUs were and how expensive high powered CPUs, high capacity SATA drives, and their required cooling systems were. You looked around Baekhyun’s set up and figured it had to run somewhere in the multiples of tens of thousands of dollars; just in this room alone.

Low maintenance. Please, she was just as high maintenance as any other regular girl just with a different catalogue of parts.

You switched to the emoji keyboard and keyed off some random happy faces and closed her chat window with more force than was necessary; suddenly and unexpectedly irked when she responded with similar emojis and the notification popped up on the screen. You swiped it away quickly to be rid of it.

“She sounded nice though, even if I couldn’t talk. She sounded nice. Do you think she will even want to talk to me again? I think she likes you more than me.”

“She will like you. If she doesn’t she’s an idiot. A girl would have to be an imbecile, Peanut, to not fall for you.”

He lifted his face then, just enough for the corners of his eye to peek out and you looked down at the side of his face as he looked at you for a moment, absorbing the encouraging words you spoke to him. His leg began to shake somewhere on the end of the bed. You could feel the rhythmic motions. He often did this when he was tired.

You had been scrolling through matches on his phone, building on an idea that popped into your head.

The man needed some practice to build up his confidence. Maybe, just maybe you could find another girl. Someone who he could talk to, chat with, be friendly with, that maybe wasn’t just so wonderfully perfect for him. Someone just to break the ice with.

You stopped on a girl. Her dress was short and the neckline was low. She really left very little up to the imagination with this outfit. Outside of the revealing clothes, it was clear that she was a beautiful woman. She was sexy and very confident in herself despite the glaringly obvious grammatical typo in her bio.

You spun the phone around to show him.

“She looks nice,” you said. Baekhyun blinked at the phone and pulled his face back a little to see the image clearly.

“—-follow you’re dreams — you are — Never too old to follow you are dreams.” Baekhyun read out the sentence with the typo out loud and you laughed.

“Come on, she’s pretty,” you said softly, “right?” You probed gently and he chuckled once to himself and closed his eyes up with a sigh.

“Yeah, she’s pretty,” he said after a while and you felt yourself stiffen just a little bit with his admission. Of course she was. Anyone could see it. He’d be lying if he didn't admit it.

“Okay but like, just pretty or do you also think she’s beautiful?”

He hummed some non response and you focused your attention back on the phone in your hands. After scrolling through a few more profiles you found another woman whose beauty shone brightly right through the screen at you.

“And her? Is she pretty or is she beautiful?”

Baekhyun’s eyes opened again but just barely. He looked half asleep and you wondered if the reason his arm was still around you was because he was so sleepy he didn't realize he was still hugging you like this on his bed.

“Pretty,” he mumbled and pushed his face into your waist again. This time the shaking in his leg began to settle and you could hear a slow steadiness in his breathing.

“Should I message her? Maybe we can practice talking to her so you’re not so nervous talking to girls?”

“Sure Bug,” he said quietly, “you can do anything you want.”

He was falling asleep now. You could feel the change. It didn't matter. You’d let him rest a bit while you opened up a chat window and began talking to Candy.

She responded quickly and had a completely different feeling from Mia. Maybe this was good. Candy was easy to talk to but she had nearly nothing in common with Baekhyun. She casually asked what a computer programmer did and when you went into specifics you had trouble finding synonyms for words that didn’t just make it all more complicated. You finally settled on a simple explanation of what kinds of computer software Baekhyun had developed and left it at that.

After a while Baekhyun shifted in his sleep and uncovered his face. His lips were parted and from the upside down angle you could see the dark splash of his pretty eyelashes that landed over his soft cheeks. He looked lovely and peaceful. All the worries and fears of the day were gone and he was sleeping so calmly. You watched his sleeping face for a while, growing warm inside with the strange contentedness you felt.

You could see some light movement behind his eyes and you wondered if he was dreaming about anything.

Candy had asked for a picture. She was asking something superficial like what sort of car Baekhyun drove and you slipped into his picture gallery for the folder with the shots you took for him when he first bought his car. You found a nice one with him smiling behind the driver’s seat, bright red seatbelt across his chest and the logo of his fancy ride on the steering wheel.

‘Wooo, baby boy an Audi? you must be loaded. When are you gonna come pick me up in that?’

You laughed at her obvious reaction. Candy was exactly as you expected her to be. Baekhyun would be able to laugh and chat with her easily without too much pressure of impressing a complicated woman like Mia was. Candy was an open book. The stakes were lower with Candy.

Your giggle made him stir and you looked down to see his eyes open a tiny bit before he closed them again.

“It’s going well with Candy,” you whispered and he inhaled a breath and nodded his head as he closed his eyes again.

“Mmm, the pretty one?” he asked in a sleepy voice and you hummed your confirmation. Something buzzed inside of you; just a bit of nerve. Call it gumption.

“Baek,” you called quietly and his lips parted with his breathing but his eyes stayed closed this time. He did not respond. He didn't give any indication at all that he heard you call him.

“Baek, what about me?” Your voice was tiny when you asked it. You felt more warmth in this bed suddenly. You felt it in your chest and it seeped up to warm up your face too.

He hadn’t responded at all to your question. It had been pretty unclear though. He might not have heard it, or might not have understood it. Or his sleep may have just been too deep to register your words.

“Am I pretty or am I beautiful?” You said it so quietly there was little chance of him actually hearing it. He was asleep and you were just here, trapped in his embrace on his bed as he slept and you puzzled over the words he had told you during an upset. The words that you had pried from him when he was vulnerable and emotional. The words that you shouldn’t be over analyzing like this. Those words felt too risky to be giving this much thought to.

Here you were again, using your sneaking methods to try and trick him into something when you knew it wouldn't work, when you knew there was nothing really there and you were reading too far into things.

His steady breathing continued. His eyes remained closed and his arm still gripped around your tightly, holding you still, holding you close to him as he slept.

So you gave up. You’d moved back to the phone to respond to Candy; something silly and lighthearted, something easy just like she was, when you heard him speak.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said so far under his breath the statement sounded more like air than actual vocalization of any kind and your fingers stopped their rapid typing in the middle of your sentence.

Your eyes looked down. Your entire body was frozen. Half of you expected to find his eyes open and a wide teasing smile on his lips, begging for you to take the bait and believe his words just for the chance of laughing at your shocked face and making fun of you for being stupid enough to believe them.

He was asleep. His eyelids did not pull open when you looked down at him and his breathing remained as steady as ever.

Baekhyun was asleep.

That damn puzzling — your jaw was sore from clenching your teeth down and your lips were dry and chapped from biting them.  

You had dropped the phone and it disappeared somewhere amid the bedcovers.

Baekhyun’s sleep was deeper now. He must have been very tired to be falling asleep so recklessly like this. You shifted downward and made some attempt to find the phone without waking him up and your small movement made him inhale a deep breath through his nose and he was moving now. You felt him shifting, moving his sleepy body up higher in search for some comfort; for something to lay on that was a bit more comfortable than flat on the middle of the bed like that.

You used the movement to reach for the blanket and pull it over his body so he could be warm at least and when he finally settled he shared the same pillow as you. His forehead rested against your shoulder and he was once again, fast asleep.

His arm though— you found yourself still very much trapped in nearly the same embrace as before, just shifted. A forearm landed over your chest and you felt a new heaviness of his bent leg land over your thigh.

You could wake him.

You could push him off and let him roll the other way so you could make an escape back to the peace of your own bedroom.

You would. You would do that soon.

Your current state of thoughts was simply too overloaded to follow through on any game plan. If you could only have a few more minutes of his warm steady breathing, you would move away from this. You would do it.

It wasn’t that you had never considered it. It was that you had gone through many lengths to come to this place. You were safe and secure here.

It was that you had nowhere else to go when it was over.

This place was your home.

Peanut was part of that home.

Things were nice right now; the way they were at home.

But…

As they sometimes do, and against your own will, your thoughts wandered.

You wondered as they wandered — wondered about him.

From the deepest parts of your mind; down where you’d shoved them roughly many times before, those wondering thoughts danced and swayed lightly to the soft music playing in this room.

Those secret thoughts about the sweetness in his eyes. Secrets about the fondness you felt for the little tips of him; the tip of his nose, the tips of his fingers, the pink tips of his ears. Thoughts you refused to encourage.

Baekhyun was asleep and you were thinking.

With the thinking came the shame and your skin was hot to the touch. The last thing you wanted was to ruin your home. With the thinking came the denial. You could not encourage anything. You could not afford to become complacent. You did not need these thoughts to become so brazen. You did not need them taking root. The last thing you needed was them making an appearance again.

The sounds he made while dreaming pulled your closed eyelids back open. You turned your face toward the sound. It was soft, the small groan from the back of his throat. But his face changed then; eyebrows screwed together and his lungs constricted as he let out a softer sound, like a whine. It was a complaint. His face showed signs of pain. The dream must have been unpleasant.

You lifted a hand then, shifted within his embrace you raised your palm and laid it carefully over the side of his face.

The shift happened with the warm contact and his features evened out and that pained look was gone.  

You smiled then. So sleepy but satisfied that you could help when he needed it.

You would move after he got a little more sleep. After he’d had a little more comfort from you, you would move.

You weren’t the first to move. And it seemed by the change in light that shone through the windows that your visit had lasted much longer than you had intended.

It was the untangle that woke you up. A conscious and deliberate lifting of limbs; the careful grip of a hand lifting your arm by the wrist and setting it gently down on a flat mattress.

You opened your eyes when he pulled his own leg out from between your thighs. The temperature change was most jarring. You had felt so warm before.

Baekhyun was sitting up in his bed. His hair was standing up in places all over his head and he was moving slowly and carefully, in an attempt to disengage himself from the tangle of this woman he had just woken up with.

The sleep was still very thick in your head. It hadn’t been a full night’s sleep had it? You felt like you had just closed your eyes a minute ago and yet the sunshine was so bright outside already.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun whispered when he realized you were now awake and looking at him, “guess I got too comfortable...must have fallen asleep.”

His voice was thick with sleep and with embarrassment too, you could hear it everywhere, with the quick words he spoke to you and the pink that covered the back of his neck and flooded his cheeks too.

This situation...this was an embarrassment. Of course it was.

This was something that should not have happened. Not with two adults of similar age who shared so many liberties with each other; spending time in each other’s arms at night, well…

You felt awkward all over. What if—what if you’d done something in your sleep? What if you said something?

And he already wasn’t meeting your eyes as he climbed out of the bed and awkwardly made his way into his bathroom.

You could hear the sound of the running water faucet and the door closed with the smallest click like he went out of his way to close it as softly and quietly as possible to avoid disturbing you any further.

You could feel the heat burning on the skin of your cheeks and you used his absence to get up and get out of his bedroom before he came out and found you still, still tangled in his bed sheets like you’d been tangled in his legs and in his arms all night.

You had to ignore this. You had to forget it ever happened, and anyway, you were best friends with the guy...right? Wasn't this thing bound to happen in the course of a friendship? What if you went on a holiday with him and the hotel only had one bed? These things really did happen, you read about it on twitter once. Would you be that asshole best friend who let him sleep on the floor just because he was a man? No! You could build a little pillow wall between your bodies and sleep as still and motionless as possible, like a corpse.

This feeling would go away. The red hot embarrassment would wash down the drain of your shower. The sticky warmth left behind by his skin would go with it.

You’d made it as far as to undress and turn on the hot water when an awful memory dawned on you.

Baekhyun still had your shampoo.

You didn't have any other shampoo in this bathroom that you could use. You pulled open cupboards and drawers, searching for anything; tiny hotel sized travel bottles, a nearly empty bottle under the sink for a rainy day, even maybe something in the trash can that still had a few drops. Nothing.

You eyed the hand soap on your sink and pictured stepping out of the shower a frizzy, tangled mess.

A soft knock vibrated against your bathroom door.

“Bug, your shampoo.” Baekhyun’s voice called out, muffled by the sounds of the running water and the door itself, “it’s almost empty, but there’s a little left. Sorry, I’ll run to the store and get more.”

Your ear was pressed against the door so you could make out everything he said; so you could listen carefully to the tone and delivery of his words to see if he was still embarrassed about last night or if he’d brush it off easily like he did most things that seemed to bother him.

There were another two soft knocks, “B-Bug?”

“Yeah, Peanut, thank you. Can you just...put it by the door. I’m already undressed. I’ll grab it in a bit.”

He did not respond right away and you stayed with your ear against the door waiting for some sound. Some indication that he had left. The click of your door, anything.

“I left it by the door,” you heard his far away voice shout and then the click of your door.

When your shower was done and you were dressed in your favorite weekend outfit, the high waisted comfy shorts with pockets and a cute top that made you feel somewhat pretty even on a casual day and you emerged from your bedroom feeling ready to face whatever weird moods or wacky situations accosted you today.

You found him singing a song to himself in the kitchen as he made something that smelled delicious for breakfast. The radio was on a pop station that played hits from all the past decades and the upbeat rhythm of the song that played was a definite favorite that had him dancing at the stove.

It was a groovy little love song, quite old now that you thought about it and you felt the beat hit hard in your chest with each pop of his shoulders and hips. The joy you could feel in this song hit you just like that beat hit; heavy and prominent, and you smiled wide to welcome this morning mood it brought with it.

When you stepped into the kitchen to grab a mug to make yourself some coffee you couldn’t help but sing along to the song, you loved the song as much as he did and when he noticed you enter the room you could hear him singing the main parts; expertly, even though the singer was a woman, his voice could always reach the high notes as well as the low ones. She was the kind of epic singer with one of a kind of talent that was world dominating. Baekhyun was singing along, doing the same kinds of ad-libs and vocal runs that she did and he did it while holding the spatula up to his face like a microphone.

As you walked by he dipped his head and looked into your face and his eyes caught ahold of yours. You knew what was coming. You could hear it coming in the song, the chorus. The part you had to sing. These were the rules. He leaned hard and brought the spatula up to your lips just in time for your part to come on. You did not disappoint. You gave it your all closing your eyes up tight and throwing your head back, singing from the very center of you, this part you always sang during this song. The part that was made for you; he knew it and you knew it.

His smile was genuine and breathtaking and he grabbed your hand with his spatula-less hand and pulled you into him, the beat taking over whatever bit of nervousness he might have had before. This was different. This was dancing. This was singing to simply the best song for a Saturday morning and it was moving and laughing with your best friend and you let him spin you in a small circle, careful to keep your coffee mug lifted so it didn’t hit anything during the spin.

His sense of rhythm was perfect. His hips moved as if they were made for this. You had no choice but to follow. An occasional hand on your hip told you where to go. The song was reaching its peak and you knew it was a short one. The best ones always were. It was going to begin winding down now. It was always such a sweet and short lived moment of happiness that you always appreciated immensely.

As a final move, he gave you a little spin and released you to go on your way toward the coffee maker you so desperately wanted to get to when you first entered this kitchen.

He finished the eggs with the last notes of the song.

As you both sat down to eat, his eyes met yours and yours met his and you dug into the eggs and bacon he’d prepared. You offered him a perfectly buttered toast slice and he took it, nodding his head as he bit into the crisp corner.

“So Bug,” he spoke up between bites of eggs, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully, “about this...Candy.”

You swallowed the hot coffee in your mouth and clasped your hands together, suddenly remembering how asleep he had been when you had hit it off with Candy, his practice girl.

He listened to your explanation. Your theory that the stakes were simply too high with Mia and he needed someone to talk to that was a bit more of a relaxed task for him. You called it easy mode so he might get the game reference. He ate and listened to you talk and occasionally his eyebrows would lift or screw together with whatever sorts of thoughts he was thinking inside his head. You could tell by his body language that he didn't exactly want to start something with Candy and you had to emphasize that it was really just for practice, talking to her. It was to help build his confidence.

“She’s already in, Peanut. She thinks you’re super cool, she thinks you’re rich and thinks you have a very good job and plus, you make lots of money and she seems super into that.”

He was not speaking yet, despite how much you had talked and you were beginning to get worried that he didn’t see the benefit of practicing his conversation skills a little bit.

“It’s not even real, Baek, you just have to make some things up with her. Just to get over that anxiety about talking to women. Just until you are more comfortable.”

When he finally did speak, it was as you feared.

“It just feels kinda gross, Bug. She’s a real person too, even if she is obviously a gold digger. It just seems wrong. I’ve been...thinking lately. What if this is...wrong of us?”

“What if I just have to tough it out with Mia and get the fuck over it and just,” he thrust his hands forward over the food on the table for emphasis, “just — blehhhh — talk, just fucking talk to her.”

You lifted a fork with eggs toward your lips but your stomach protested. You suddenly didn't want any more food. The coffee you were drinking had suddenly gone too cold for your liking and you pushed the plate and mug away from you with your fingertips.

You were bothered.

Why did he choose right now to suddenly grow a conscience about this? Did he forget that Mia was chatting with both of you and not just him?

“I...I just — I want to try with Mia. I know I can get over it and talk to her. And I don't want to talk to Candy. The person Candy thinks I am, well...that’s just false. I can’t be the person she’s expecting me to be.”

He had obviously read through the entire conversation with Candy last night and found the tales you told simply too stretched out for him to try and live up to.

“But that’s what people do when they start dating. They stretch the truth, make themselves sound just a little bit better, make themselves taller, or make themselves look richer. They all do this.” You simply could not understand why he didn’t get this. Why he didn’t just play by the rules that everyone followed to get through the door so he could stand a chance here.

“Well I don't. I don't want someone to fall for a fake version of me. I want someone to like me now. This me. Byun Baekhyun. The Peanut with anxiety who lives with Bug who almost killed him over a cheese stick, but who makes really great toast.”

He was smiling now, joking about the funny memories. You pulled your lips into a forced smile and lifted the coffee for another drink so you didn't have to smile any more.

He was watching your face. You were sure he sensed it. Something had bothered you to the point of giving up on your breakfast and every pass your eyes made over his face led to the same thing. He was watching you.

“Why are you upset?”

You shook your head lightly. Willing the obvious signs to leave your face. You didn't even know why. You didn't have a name for this. So you just shrugged in response to him.

“Because I don't want to practice on Candy? Did you actually like her for me?”

You really made your best attempt. You inhaled deep and closed your eyes and you shook your head.

Candy did not matter and you knew it. There was something ugly inside of you maybe. Something that did not want Baekhyun to get along with perfect Mia. Something that was fighting against the idea of him being happy and healthy and free of this unhealthy attachment you had to him. Free and happy away from you.

“Then why?”

Enough. You were being unfair to him. You had promised him that you would help him. You had gotten him this far and you’d be the worst kind of asshole if you didn't see him through to the end; if you didn't follow through with your promise to find him someone who would love him like he deserved to be loved, exactly as he was now. The amazingly wonderful Byun Baekhyun.

“It’s nothing like that,” you smiled softly. It felt like a sad smile, but at least it was genuine. “I just worry when you get so anxious. You know you fell right asleep last night. As soon as I came in, you passed right out.”

Your words skillfully slipped out of your lips and you successfully changed the subject. You felt like a coward, but you simply did not have words for what was happening to you.

“I didn’t...say anything did I? Before I fell asleep?”

This question was quiet. His fingertips grazed over his lips as he asked it, nearly muffling the words he shyly asked you at the breakfast table, the morning after.

You are so fucking beautiful.

You are so fucking beautiful.

You lifted your coffee cup to drink the tepid liquid inside and dropped your eyes from his shaking ones. The answer to his question sat on the back of your tongue even after you swallowed away the liquid.

You swallowed again and it refused to budge and yet you sat in silence, unable to utter a single word in reply to his quiet question.

Your silence went on for too long and he looked up into your face. An instant smile lifted at the corner of your lips and you forced it up into your eyes.

“You just slept, Peanut. We—” you had to exhale the breath that you had been holding for too long in your lungs, “we just slept.”

 Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

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