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thestarrynightslover · 8 months

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Whatever Comes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,147

Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of blood, life-threatening injuries, hit-and-run, fracture wounds, and miscarriage.

Summary: Doctor (y/n) (y/l/n) and Jay Halstead are secretly dating when there is a terrible accident involving (y/n) and a lot comes to light.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Okay, so this is my first fic in a long while and I don't think it's all that good but I had to restart somewhere, so I hope you like it anyway!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You had just gotten out of your car across the street from the side of Med and, as you were making your way through the bit of road that led to the hospital, a car comes into the driveway — screeching tires, in full speed — and runs you over long before you could even see anything and, there, in the matter of a few seconds, everything goes black and you’re left bleeding out in the street.

Almost an hour later, after you had regained consciousness and had begun dragging yourself, very slowly, towards the hospital, Will and Ethan, about to go inside Med, spot you and run your way eager to help you out — even if they hadn’t known it was you at first.

“Oh man, it’s Dr. (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Ethan exclaimed.

“(y/n), can you hear me?!?” You sort of heard Will ask through your dizziness haze.

“Wow, you’re actually shorter this up close than I had imagined at first.” You attempted a joke with your friend, momentarily gaining some clarity.

Ignoring you, Will just asked no one specifically, “oh Lord, how long has she been bleeding out here?”

Decisive as always, you heard as Dr. Choi commanded, “I don’t know but, come on, Will, let’s carry her to the ED!”

As soon as your friends get inside the hospital with you, everybody stays in shock for a moment until Maggie yells: "get her in treatment 4, now!"

Following her lead, Will and Ethan get started on treating you, who has a few broken ribs, and free fluid in your belly besides from a punctured spleen. Having done their best in the ED, they decide to send your upstairs for surgery with Crocket.

Once you're going to surgery, Miss Goodwin tells Maggie and the doctors to call PD and specifically ask for Intelligence, since you were friends with the unit. As the cops get there, one stands out: Jay Halstead. He's frantic, devastated-looking, just completely lost, and desperate to hear more news about your condition. No one really understands why he is reacting like that, but all of them do share the fear of losing a great friend. Voight's giving out assignments to the team, so Jay knows that that's when he needs to speak up.

"Um, sarge?" All eyes are on him. "If you and the team don't mind running one man short today... I was hoping that I could, um, stay here with- with her?" Hank just stares at him, unlike everyone else — who are shocked — the older man's focus is on his detective's eyes, on the way he was so distraught from the moment they got the call about (y/l/n). That was the behavior, the look, of a terrified man. And, as everyone there knew, Jay Halstead — the freaking war vet — wasn't one to get scared easily. "(y/n) and I-"

"It's fine. No need to explain. You should stay here, Jay. Let us know, in case anything changes. And we'll catch the son of a bitch." He said firmly, making Jay feel as appreciative as ever, and, also, sending an implicit message to all the other members of the unit, one that said: we work this with all we got right now, for (y/n), and for Jay, no questions asked.

After the officers left the hospital, there was still a big commotion from everyone who stayed, because it was one of their own up there in the or. But, surpassing everyone else's, was Will's surprise by how distraught Jay looked, especially considering how his little brother wanted to stay at the hospital, instead of going to find who hurt you. So he comes to confront the detective about it. "So... You and (y/n) are a thing?" Will asked, trying to understand. Since Jay just nodded his head, he decided to push a little further: "And... Were you ever planning to tell me? What the hell, man?"

"Will, I-"

"She's one of my best friends, Jay! Not to mention the fact that I'm the doctor who oversees her work here!"

"Will you put it down?" Jay pleaded with his brother, motioning him to a more reserved corner of the waiting room. "I know, okay? I know. And I'm sorry if it upsets you, man, I really am. But this could've blown her career. That's why we hadn't told you yet." It was clear that Will didn't exactly like his brother's explanation, but he knew it was true.

"Just... How long?"

"Um, about six months?"

"Six months?!" The doctor yelled in shock, then repeated it in a lower tone. "But, six months?"

"Yeah, I know it's a lot of time keeping you in the dark, Will. But, trust me, we weren't thrilled about it. And we were hoping to tell you soon. I swear." Jay said, and his brother could, once again, see it was the truth.

"So, that means that when you started seeing each other she was still finishing med school?"

"Yeah, that's right. Which was, like, the main reason for us to keep it under wraps. An intern dating the attending doctor's little brother? Wouldn't look good."

"That's true..." At that point, Will took another look at his brother. Jay looked so worried and scared, even while trying to hide it. "So, uh, you guys are serious?" That question got a little smile out of the detective.

"Yes, we are. I know that it is new for you... But, I love her, Will. I really do." He took a moment to breathe, not being able to hold back some tears this time. “And, I can’t lose her. I just can’t.”

“Jay…” Will started saying but didn’t quite know how to continue. What could he possibly say to comfort his brother right now? “We just… We just gotta stay hopeful, okay? (y/n) is a really tough person and Dr. Marcel is a great surgeon, you know it. She is gonna pull through.”

A lot of disquieting hours later Crocket finally comes out of the surgery, just to be met by a very worried hospital staff and an on-edge Jay Halstead.

"Where is sh- How is she? Is (y/n) okay? Can I see her?" The detective hovers, not even taking a breath.

"Wow! Uh, you gotta calm down a little, buddy."

"Don't give me that crap! Just- just tell me how she is!" Jay shouts again, not giving a damn about what anyone was thinking. You were the only thing on his mind right now.

"Alright. But try to keep breathing, okay?" To that, the other man didn't even bother to answer. "Okay, um, it was a very complicated surgery, I had to do a lot of cleaning and moving around to get to the worst parts and-"

"Can you please just cut to the part where you tell me if she's okay? No offense, but you can fill me in on the details later." Jay stated nervously. It wasn't just that he wanted to know what was the result of all those hours in the or, but, also, because Jay knew he wouldn't understand half of what Connor was saying, even with the simplified language. You would. But not him.

"Right. Okay. She's, um, she's okay for now. We'll need to monitor her on an hourly basis, though." By that point, the surgeon could already see the relief on both Halsteads' faces, so he went on. "We controlled the bleeding, but, with all the blood loss," he stopped to take another look at the detective, "I'm afraid," another pause, because, sure he had delivered this kind of news before, but this time it was a lot harder, because those people were his friends. And, what they had just lost, he had just lost too, in a way, "we couldn't save the baby."

"The baby?" This time he got an answer from both brothers.

"Uh, uh... You, uh, you didn't know she was pregnant?" Crocket asked, kind of already guessing the answer while sharing a look with Will.

"Oh my God..." It was all the youngest Halstead managed to let out. Seeing how his brother was unable to react any further, Will decided to step up and ask the tough questions.

"So, um, if everything goes well from now on, you think that (y/n/n) will make a full recovery?"

"Ahhh, yes, actually. She was in great health, so, after making it through, uh, through the night, she shouldn't have any major issues." At that point, Marcel himself was trying to be as objective and as doctorish as possible, in order not to make things worse for the man who had just heard that he lost a child he didn't even have a chance to wait for.

"So, is it, um- is it possible that she didn't know about the pregnancy yet?" But, damn it, Will just kept asking all the impossible questions.

"Uh... It is, actually. Very possible." Hearing that, the detective immediately glued his eyes on him. "We estimate that the fetus was about seven weeks. It's very common that women on birth control haven't found out about it at that point." As neither Halstead said anything, Marcel continued, "well, she's up in the ICU now and in and out of consciousness but, if you want, you can see her for a few minutes."

Hearing that, the detective came out of his haze and said: "Yeah, I wanna see her!"

A few hours later, as Will Halstead gathered his things after finishing his shift, he decided to go check on you but got surprised when he realized that his brother was still there, in the waiting room. "Jay, what are you still doing here?"

"I'm waiting," he said simply.

"Jay." Will called again, "you can't do this, you need to go home, get some sleep, eat…"

"I'm not leaving her alone."

"She's not gonna be alone, Jay." Not getting any response, Will decided to lead with something else. "You know, Voight called Goodwin and said that they're hitting a lot of walls in the (y/l/n) investigation…" Measuring his brother's reaction, Will continued: "Maybe they'd have better luck working with the whole team…"

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tomorrow I'll tell Voight that I want in on the investigation." Jay said, not making any sign of wanting to leave.

"Jay, you can't work tomorrow after staying here the whole night!" Seeing his little brother still not intending to leave, he threatened, "if you don't go home right now, I'll call Voight myself and tell him that you're in no shape to work-"

"Oh, c'mon! You're gonna do that!"

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," Will said, looking as serious as they get. "Look, Jay, you know she's in good hands here. And, whatever happens, you'll be the first to know, I've made sure of it."

"But-"

"But nothing, Jay! It's time to go, come on!" Will pressed so much that Jay resigned himself to do as his brother told him.

For almost a week, you stayed in the ICU. For almost a week, Jay Halstead passed by Med on his way to work and on his way home from work.

Once you were moved to a room, Jay started feeling like he could finally breathe again, even though there was now the baby that someone had still to tell you. And, after chatting with Will and Crockett, Jay had already decided he was gonna be the one to deliver the news to you. So, one day, after Intelligence had already caught the drug dealers that were running away when they hit you, Jay asked Voight for the afternoon off to take you home from the hospital.

When you were at your place, you asked Jay what was going on: "Hey, you didn't say a word on the way here, is anything besides the fact that I just spent almost two weeks in the hospital and that everyone found out about us wrong?"

"Let's sit down for a minute, babe."

The minute he said that, you knew there was something really wrong.

"Okay, you're scaring me…" You said while sitting down on the couch.

"I just- I have something important to tell you," and, like that, Jay proceeded to tell you the worst thing you ever heard. It's not like you'd been planning on becoming a mother or anything like that anytime soon but it was still a possibility that was brutally taken away… You and Jay cried together for the first time and, consoling each other, you felt your relationship growing stronger.

So much so that after some time you could start talking about the future that both of you foresaw with one another and, even though nothing was completely decided, there was one thing you knew for sure: as long as you were together, you could face anything.

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kingconia · 7 months

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OMG HIHI so I saw some of your posts and I was like “OMG THIS IS SO GOOD??” So obviously I HAD TO MADE A REQUEST (ofc if it’s open‼️)

OKAY SOO I was wondering YK if you would be comfortable enough to make a Vil schoenheit x (gn or fem) Ace detective! Reader

(LIKEE.. Idk for example like let’s take Goro Akechi from persona 5 as a example, OR EVEN RANPO FROM BSD)

ANYWAY you have an AMAZING DAY, WONDERFUL WEEK AND AN AWESOME MONTH‼️

A/N: That was such a curious request! I had a lot of fun working on it, and I thank you dearly for all kind words. Also, I decided mostly to take Ranpo as an inspiration for the character—his belief that his superpower is the deduction fits the setting nicely.

VIL SCHOENHEIT AND GN!READER, WHO IS PROFESSIONAL DETECTIVE

— From the very childhood, you were a quite unique kid. You knew everything about everyone as you noticed the smallest details that others people would never see. And these observations helped you to make a logical conclusion about the person. You were too smart for your own good;

— Your family liked to teasingly call you Sherlock Holmes wannabe, but you knew it better: it was some kind of superpower. It had to be it;

— Others laughed, hearing about that. Until... You woke up in the world of mages, beastmen, and others creatures. And everything started to make more sense;

— When you declared to the headmaster that your unique magic is about being a perfect detective, he was suspicious at first. And so, you decided to prove him wrong;

— You did. Thanks to your powers, you were able to determine the strangeness in other students' attitude;

— You saw through Riddle in your first meeting with him. It took a three minutes to tell that he had problems with over-controlling mother. And so, mixed with your straightforwardness, you helped him not to overblot;

— The same thing happened with Leona. You cracked his plan in the right time, and prevented everything before it even started;

— Your personal favourite case was Scarabia's one. You caught Jamil so quickly—mostly, because he acted too hot-headedly, living evidences everywhere, but it was his motive that flared up your interest;

— As you stopped students from overblotting easily, diving deeper in their stories, excitement filled you even more;

— And so, Crowley unwillingly admitted that you, indeed, should have some powers to do what you do;

— When you were assigned to help with the VDC, you found out the next possible victim of the overblot in a few seconds—Vil Schoenheit himself! And not only that, but you even managed to figure out the little secret of his vice;

— However, you took some time to catch him red-handed on something, to trigger the conversation. That happened when he wanted to poison his rival;

— Vil was devastated by your involvement. But, to his surprise, you chose to speak with him about it privately;

— He didn't overblot. Instead, he broke down in front of you, in the empty dressing room;

— After that, Vil started to respect you even more than. before. If earlier, he thought highly to you because of your merits, now, he also was aware of his respectful you treating people, choosing to talk with them and help.

— He became your friend, eventually;

— Running around, solving mysteries, and doing gods know what, you forgot about a lot of things—drinking water, eating your meals, taking care of your appearance. And so, Vil always looked after you, offering his help in shy attempts to spend some time with you;

— However, there was one thing that he couldn't quite understand about you...

•

”Urgh, give me a week, and I will finish with Ignihyde as well,” you muttered, frowning, while Vil was combing through your wet hair. ”With all of my work, I can't understand how this stupid mirror can't already sort me in some dorm. At this point, I will be fine even with Savannaclaw.”

The thing was... Mirror continued insisting that you held no magical powers to your name.

And the more Vil spent time around you, he started to agree with that—you were human. Human without any powers.

What you think was your unique magic was just your brain. You were smart, you were ridiculously unbeatable in that, surely, you knew it yourself. Then, why you had this urge to think that it was magic and not you, who made everything better?

”Y/n?”

”Hm?”

”Why do you want to have magical power so badly?”

Vil could easily assume that it was because you stuck there, with them, in the place, where everyone had magic. Anyone on your place could have felt inferior about that. But the thing was, you thought, this magic was with you since you were little.

”I don't,” you protested instantly. ”I just have it—and that's the fact.”

”Even in our world, there a lot of people without magic,” he added. ”My father, for example. And—”

”...You don't believe that I am a mage?” You cut through his words sharply.

He couldn't see your face from where he was standing, but he could tell you sounded upset. Vil had no intentions to hurt you, but... He had no reason to lie to you, either. He liked to be honest with people he loved, and he loved you, truly.

”I think, you are the smartest person I had ever know,” he hummed, carefully choosing his next words. ”But that has nothing to do with magic.”

You were silent for a while, and he stopped stroking your hair.

”...But I had to be special, Vil,” you whispered suddenly. ”If I am not, then... No one would pay attention to me anymore.”

Vil knew very little about your previous life.

Perhaps, you had neglectful parents, and it was your way to make them to look at you. Or, maybe, you had too many siblings to feel loved enough.

There were so many scenarios that could explain your arrogant belief, but Vil wasn't you—he couldn't tell people about their lives merely by glancing at them.

”Oh, dear,” he made a circle around you, stopping right in front of you. He took your face in his hands carefully. ”But you are special. Just not in the way we are.”

”But—”

”In fact, I think, you are even more special than we,” Vil squished your cheeks together, so you could stay silent for a while. ”Because our magic could be taken away, and what you have is something that cannot be stripped away.”

You looked down, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. Vil leaned closer, kissing you on the tip of your nose gently. It reddened instantly—exactly for this, he started calling you radish, instead of using a potato nickname—and he smiled.

”You are the most special person I had ever met,” he whispered, as if it was a secret to be shared carefully. ”And you are even more special to my heart. Please, remember that.”

You nodded weakly.

Vil didn't expect you to answer right away, either on his confession, or on the statement about the lack of magic in you. You spent too much time, persuading yourself that you were a mage. Kind words couldn't erase it so easily.

Yet, he knew that you heard him.

And for now, it was enough.

After all, both of you had enough time to figure everything out.

Together.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

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tsukimefuku · 2 months

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Right, wrong and the in-between (Part 2)

Previous chapter | Next chapter

You and Higuruma were assigned to investigate the disappearance of women around Shinjuku. This led to a dicey situation regarding what place Jujutsu sorcerers occupy in this world and what is their role to play when non-sorcerers get involved.

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". There is currently a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :) The "Right, wrong and the in-between" will be a 4 (maybe 3) part short-story set in this AU. I hope you enjoy! The tags below will be applicable to every chapter.

Tags: oc/f!reader, soft/implied Higuruma x reader, soft/implied Nanami x reader, slow burn, mentions of violence and non-con/abuse among side characters, canon typical violence, some angst, some fluff, just characters being themselves driving the plot (and me) insane. Some philosophical debate will be in place.

WC: 1.9k

Nanami had been tracking down this curse for what seemed like hours underground, and he started to become tired and annoyed. It was a little before 6PM, and if he didn't end it soon, he'd be caught up in overtime for the third time that month.

The sorcerer removed his tie and started to wrap it around his fist, just to be ready in case he needed to use his collapse technique.

What a bore, he thought to himself, as he kept walking underneath the streets of Shinjuku following the semi grade 1 curse through the sewers. This curse was detected that morning by an assistant that worked for Jujutsu High, and it was a yet unregistered one. It probably sprung into existence not long ago, and was using the sewage system to move around Shinjuku's area.

Nanami heard a faint noise of a possibly slimy large body dragging itself a few meters ahead. He pulled his blunt sword from its support, on his back, and started to walk quickly to meet the curse. As he turned the corner to the tunnel, Nanami was met with an unsightly vision. The curse was a giant crimson and black worm, covered in holes, and had no eyes, only six sets of arms spread across each side of its body, which it was currently using to drag itself around. Even if the thing was big, it moved rather quickly.

Nanami charged at it, dealing a 7:3 blow perpendicular to the ground, but the curse reacted swiftly and crawled its way around the tunnel, getting glued to the top. At that moment, it spurted a green, thick liquid in the sorcerer's direction, which he managed to dodge. The liquid started to slowly melt the ground it hit, leaving a deep hole behind. Nanami sighed as he saw his wristwatch marking 6:02PM. He felt his cursed energy output increasing, and jumped from the side of the circular underpass, bearing his blunt sword, in a new attempt to hit it. The curse sensed him, and once again, evaded his blow by letting go of the walls and hitting the ground. It started to make a run for it, and Nanami promptly followed suit.

As it turned left, so did he, and then — nothing. Nanami heard some ruffling above him, and saw a sort-of manhole for ventilation. The creature had lodged itself in there, and was trying to escape the sewer. From what little Nanami could make out of the grids that covered the hole, it was in a secondary street, and no one walked or passed by during the time he observed it.

He calculated his odds and decided to risk a 'collapse' strike to bring the worm curse down.

***

"Wow, what was that?" You asked Higuruma, yelling, as you both felt the ground tremble underneath your feet.

"Perhaps an earthquake." He answered, nearly screaming too to make himself heard under the club's loud music.

The moment the robe woman took the girl inside the building, you both followed them, just to find that the door auto-locked itself. The cursed energy traces were all over, and matched the ones found on the other scenes. Higuruma considered bashing the door in, but you dissuaded him, arguing it would be a bad idea if the woman was truly the curse user behind the disappearances. You had no idea what her ability could be, so you had to have a smarter and less confrontational approach. He sighed in agreement.

"Let's wait for the club to open and find them from the inside, okay?" It was your suggestion, and it was exactly what you both did.

Now inside, the place was dark, neon, sweaty, noisy and filled with an assortment of women spinning on shiny poles. You knew this was a club in the red-light district, but you didn't expect to be caught up in that situation with Higuruma by your side. One of the waitresses had already offered her services to him, and you had to hold your laughter at that scene while he refused.

"Come on, that seems to be the back part of the operation." He said, tapping you lightly on your arm and pointing to a more illuminated part of the club, covered by a folding door. You both made your way inside, when suddenly you heard an older woman's voice.

"Sleep."

You nearly fainted at that moment, falling to your knees, and Higuruma began to collapse just like you.

Shit, shit, shit!

It was a cursed speech user, and you both fell right in her trap.

"Higuruma, run!" You shouted, as you conjured one of your grenades, putting your hands together, and threw it upwards, exploding a lot of dust around you both. He seemed to be more resistant than you, and started crawling his way out with the chaos that ensued, being able to get up and walk away, with all the people screaming outside from the blast and all the running around. He looked behind and decided it would be safer to pretend he left, just so he could avoid being imprisoned too, and squiggled his way under the bar counter, deciding to hide behind a few boxes of booze until the cursed speech effect had dwindled enough. Higuruma had to focus all his will into not passing out.

As you started to drag yourself to the door, a hand grabbed you from the back of your neck and bashed your head directly on the ground, removing all the air from your lungs and leaving you completely disoriented as you felt a drop of blood making its way down your face.

"I said sleep, now." The female voice grunted. You heard two sets of footsteps making their way to you, one carried with them the familiar robe, and the other seemed like a male pair of feet wearing sneakers. You couldn't lift your gaze anymore, as you fell unconscious.

***

"Hey, wake up." You heard, while you were tied to a chair, both arms to your back, separated by ropes, and both legs wrapped together. The woman was standing in front of you, smoking on her cigarette, and the guy was leaned over on the edge of the room. It kind of looked like a shady interrogation room, and smelled terribly.

"Ugh, this place stinks." You said, trying to weave your way out of the ropes.

"No use. I tied these up myself, and I have a lot of practice in doing so, honey." She answered, while puffing her cigarette smoke directly onto your face. "Where is that fella of yours?"

"I hope that he's miles away by now." There was a clock on the wall, and it read 6:25PM. You were out for just some time, thankfully. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, darling, I'll ask the questions." She slapped you hard across the face, leaving a bad burning sensation on your cheek. "How did you find us? Tell me."

The urge to speak suddenly took you over, and you had to bite your lip again in order to not rat out on Jujutsu High.

"Feisty one, huh? Well, let's try it again." She leaned over to your ear, while you were completely helpless against her technique. "Who sent you?"

"Jujutsu Tech." You blurted out, defeated.

"The what now?" She asked. This woman has no idea what Jujutsu Tech is? You figured out a couple of things from that. Matching the sloppiness of her kidnappings, this woman was probably a newly awakened sorcerer, unaware of the full extents of her power. Also, given she had no idea what Jujutsu Tech was, you could use that as leverage, being careful not to lie in case she pushed you to relay more information about anything. Her cursed speech seemed to be pushing people to do things, like sleeping, waking up, or telling them something, but it was much weaker than Inumaki's power overall.

"I'm a jujutsu sorcerer, like you, and I work with them. They're probably sending people our way as we speak, to rescue me. So… You should really let me go."

"Jujutsu? Hm." The woman seemed to contemplate her options for a moment. "Do they have the money for a ransom? Tell me the truth."

That urge again. It was pretty strong. "Probably," you spat out. What a fucking nightmare.

She smiled and said, "it's settled, then. Toshio, grab her phone and call... Who should we call to inform you've been captured and request the money, darling?" The woman asked, while looking at you. You thought about your options, and who could get there faster to your aid.

"Nanami Kento. Call him." I'm sorry, Nanami, but you're the closest and one of the smartest. Please, may you talk to Higuruma before you get here.

***

As Nanami finished climbing his way out of the sewer, after exorcising the cursed spirit, he saw many people running out of a nightclub, screaming about an explosion. He felt residuals of cursed energy over the building, and grunted as he decided to investigate, given that he was already on overtime clock hours.

He went inside, and chaos was the word to better describe the scenery that ensued. Nanami started to walk around and search for more cursed energy residuals, as he stepped inside the same room you were attacked with Higuruma minutes prior, now empty, but with vestiges of your cursed energy all over. As he was ready to walk out, Nanami felt somebody behind him. He turned around, ready to punch the person, and found Higuruma still recovering.

"Not so nice to see you." Higuruma said, supporting himself by putting a hand over Nanami's shoulder and bearing a half smile on his face.

"Same to you." Nanami replied, unimpressed. "What happened? Where is she?"

Higuruma's hand tightened around Nanami's shoulder. "They got her. There is a cursed speech user here. We need to hurry."

Nanami tensed up immediately, even though his vacant stare was the perfect disguise for the anger that had bubbled up. "It's bewildering how you never fail to disappoint."

Nanami's phone rang, and it was you on the other side of the line. He pushed Higuruma's hand out of his shoulder as he answered it.

"Nanami, I've been captured, and I need help." You said. There was some fumbling on the line, and a man started to speak. "We demand a ransom to let her go." He then proceeded to demand some absurd sum of money and wait for a few seconds.

"Of course," Nanami bluffed, knowing that would be their best alternative for rescuing you, "but where and when should this… ‘exchange’ take place?"

They gave him an address that was near enough to where he and Higuruma were currently, and said, "meet us there in half an hour, sharp". The line went silent, and he ended the call, inhaling deeply.

"Accompany me and make yourself serviceable, for once." Nanami sharply said at Higuruma. "This is the place we have to go. Let's see, however, if we can get a few things sorted out before we leave."

Higuruma sighed deeply and agreed to work alongside with Nanami, albeit begrudgingly. "Fine. Let's do this."

They had their first encounter right after you saved Higuruma by injuring yourself in the process, due to Higuruma's irresponsibility, and Nanami held some kind of resentment against the man since then. Nanami was still reluctant regarding Higuruma’s acceptance as a whole — a curse user that had actually killed people before coming to Jujutsu High, had his sentence suspended, and acted irresponsibly with colleagues in the battlefield.

"Help me locate something we can use to our ears properly."

#jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you

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chuuyrr · 2 years

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THIS IS KINDA LIKE A CRACK REQUEST SO IM SORRY LMAO BUT IMAGINE ITS STORMING LIKE, REALLY REAAALLY. STORMING. HEAVY RAIN, HARSH WINDS AND LEAVES EVERYWHERE. THE ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY HAS A CASE TO SOLVE SOMEWHERE DESPITE THE HARSH WEATHER AND THEY'RE ALL GETTING WHIPLASHED BY THE RAIN DJFJSJFJSJFN

DAZAI'S COAT HAS FLOWN OVER HIS HEAD BY THE WIND, KUNIKIDA'S UMBRELLA HAS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN LMAO, ATSUSHI BEING SLAPPED BY RANDOM LEAVES AND PAPERS ON HIS FACE, RANPO CLINGING ONTO FUKUZAWA SO HE WON'T FLY OFF, AND FUKUZAWA WITH A DEADPAN LOOK WHILE HIS HAIR IS EVERYWHERE LMAO

meanwhile gojo!reader is walking beside them totally fine and unbothered because of her infinity😭😭😭

unbothered

bungou stray dogs x gojo! reader

masterlist of infinity

╰➤ CW(s): drabble / scenario with the armed detective agency, major themes of fluff and crack, mentions of gojo's limitless & infinity as an ability instead of a cursed technique

╰➤ PAIRING(s): dazai osamu x reader, kunikida doppo x reader, nakajima atsushi x reader, izumi kyouka x reader edogawa ranpo x reader, fukuzawa yukichi x reader (all that were mentioned in the request with the addition of kyouka)

this request had me cackling ngl HAHAHAHA i had fun writing this. also don't worry about it! i accept crack-ish requests too, not just fluff and angst. thank you so much for requesting and for being patient. enjoy reading anon ♡

since the armed detective agency met you and resolved the entire descendant of sugawara michizane important documents fiasco with you and the port mafia, their and your organization were now affiliated, which meant you were frequently assigned in yokohama rather than tokyo. it was a delightful change of scenery after spending almost all of your time in tokyo, as well as considering how your overseas assignments weren't as often.

yokohama was a lovely city with a large number of ability users. however, being in yokohama and seeing the armed detective agency meant you were assisting them as instructed by heiwa's higher-ups, which is why you were currently with them, namely dazai, atsushi, kyouka, kunikida, ranpo, and the president himself, fukuzawa.

the armed detective agency was assigned a very important and large investigation to conduct somewhere, which is why you and them were needed, but the location all of you needed to get to was located in the forest. originally, all of you were driving a car to get there faster, but it began to rain heavily—no, scratch that—crazily, making driving through dangerous.

ranpo and dazai begged fukuzawa to turn back because the weather was so bad, but fukuzawa refused because the investigation was so important. the show must go on.

so there you were, hiking through the forest with the armed detective agency. the wind was howling like a goddamn wolf, and leaves were flying everywhere due to the massive turbulence of wind and raindrops. as atsushi shielded poor kyouka from the forces of nature and held her close to him, he was getting slapped by leaves and papers of the documents he supposedly had in hand.

the umbrella fukuzawa and kunikida were sharing had turned upside down as kunikida struggled to hold it and flip it back up. ranpo was practically clinging to fukuzawa, attempting not to be blown away by the wind. fukuzawa continued to walk with a deadpan expression across his face, despite his face and clothes being damp and his hair being all over the place.

dazai, on the other hand, was walking alongside you, sulky and wet from being whiplashed by the rain like the others, but you were an exception.

even with the intense weather, you were walking calmly with your hands in the pockets of your black high-neck zipped up jacket, completely dry with no speck of wetness or leaves on you. droplets of rain and leaves appeared to be hitting you, but if you looked closely, they weren't even touching you.

"the place should be right around here somewhere. you guys okay—" you began and turned your head to face your coworkers, only for your voice to fall silent and turn into a whistle. everyone turned to face you too, their eyes widening as they saw how you were still in great shape while they all looked terrible. "yeah, i spoke too soon," you said immediately, scrunching your face.

"eh?! how are you not wet, gojo-san?!" exclaimed atsushi, pointing a finger at you.

"no fair! gojo's using her infinity!" ranpo grumbled, his face contorted into a pout. "that's actually a pretty remarkable way of using your ability."

"i know, right? it's convenient," you winked proudly as you placed both hands on your hips, "i always have my limitless ability up."

"ever the show off," dazai grumbled as he struggled to keep his brown coat from blowing away in the wind, but a mischievous grin crept across his face as he slowly scooted closer to you. "ranpo-kun is correct, belladonna. you're not being fair at all, which is why..."

as the no longer human ability user attempted to nullify your limitless ability with his touch, you immediately vanished from his side and reappeared right beside fukuzawa, who had previously held a deadpan expression but now had a surprised expression when you seemingly teleported next to him, just before dazai could lay a hand on you.

his and everyone else's eyes widened in surprise, "e-eh?"

dazai blinked, only to find himself touching air rather than you. you were lightning fast. your speed was comparable to a blink of an eye just now.

"you're not getting through my infinity this time," you said, pulling your blindfold down to your neck, narrowing your beautiful aquamarine six eyes at dazai and sticking out your tongue in a childish manner, "the last time that happened, your hot-headed ginger friend literally punched me in the face and broke my glasses!"

"besides, i wouldn't want rain literally raining on my parade, dazai-kun," you continued, folding your arms and shaking your head.

"you sound just like chuuya right now," dazai pouted, her eyes narrowing into a small but similar glare to yours.

"or maybe you just found your match, dazai," kunikida sighed deeply.

"nuh-uh! if we're all in this investigation together, then [name]-chan has to face nature's forces as well!" exclaimed dazai.

"oi, stop that! you're not touching me, dazai!" alerted, you slid and evaded the brunet's attempt to negate your ability, "i don't want to be all wet from the rain!"

"you're the only one who isn't getting whiplashed by the rain!" dazai argued, continuing to run towards you, despite having difficulty due to how wet and slippery the ground was from the storm.

"president! dazai is being a menace! do something!" you complained to fukuzawa, who remained stoic, not wanting to deal with this right now.

the bad storm, with his hair all over the place and him being damp from head to toe, as well as ranpo clinging to him and kunikida's umbrella being useless because it had been flipped upside down, were enough—more than enough actually. fukuzawa, in short, just wants to get this over with.

"i'm not being a menace! you are!" dazai argued in return, "now, come here!"

"OI! QUIT PLAYING AROUND DAMNIT! WHAT ARE YOU TWO, CHILDREN?!!" kunikida reprimanded you and dazai as you both ran in circles in this storm like children playing tag, "THIS ISN'T THE TIME TO BE RUNNING AROUND!"

you and dazai eventually survived kunikida's scolding and decided to stop later, arriving at the said location with fukuzawa and the others.

the client was in a state of shock and awe when he saw the armed detective agency who appeared to have been through hell and back due to the storm, clothes all wet, hair all over their faces, and some leaves and papers even sticking to them, but you, on the other hand, still looked spiffy and completely presentable, as he welcomed all of you inside his place.

if kenji was undefeated by the rain, then you were unbothered by the rain.

or at least until dazai surprised you with a hug from behind while you and fukuzawa were explaining to the client why you and everyone had to walk to get here with the others drying up, breaking through your infinity with his nullification ability, dampening your hair and clothes as he nuzzled his face onto your shoulder while clinging to you as he let out a triumphant noise and held you tighter.

"DAZAI!! YOU SHITHEAD!!"

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sailoryooons · 5 months

Text

Hali's Ao3 Rec's

Hi hello - in lieu of my Thirsty Thursday reviews that I skipped yesterday, I've compiled a very short list of fics I have read on Ao3 recently that absolutely scrambled my brain, loved them, no notes, want to re-read them again and again. Please make sure you give these authors love, even though some of these stories are old!

Note: These are literally all mem x mem because that's primarily what I use Ao3 to read. These are also in no particular order.

By Any Other Name (halloween 02) by ladypajara

Pairing: Jimin and Namjoon Summary: Namjoon and Jimin are stray demons who have long accepted to ignore their unholy purpose of collecting souls and live life as humans in all its banality. Some few hundred years into it, feelings arise. My reactions: The most lovely character studies, wonderful narrative of two idiots obviously into one another, and probably one of my favorite Namjoons to have ever been written.

Strawberry Dream by ladyddaeng

Pairing: Jimin and Taehyung Summary: Unpresented Taehyung gets his first heat and is assigned a special heat companion. My reactions: WEE WOOO WEE WOOO CALL THE AMBULANCE THIS JIMIN IS LETHAL AND SWEET AND KIND AND CARING AND THEIR DYNAMIC IS WONDERFUL

What Lies Below by Sharleena

Pairing: Jimin and Yoongi Summary: There is a curse that lives in the woods, and a spirit that keeps it at bay. And one sacrifice, born under the right moon. My Reactions: I stayed up until 3:30 am reading this motherfucker. It is beautiful though melancholy at parts, and though it is "horror" in parts, it is a .. gentle, hypnotizing horror, in a way. One of my favorite fics of the year.

The One by nicedress

Pairing: Yoongi and Namjoon Summary: Every stamen lured into Yoongi’s bed leaves him with a new blossom on his skin and a new grave on his property. When he encounters Namjoon, a stamen who refuses to touch any pistil unless it’s his soulmate, all Yoongi sees is someone naive and easy to control. Someone to help around the farm without complaint. Someone to dig holes without realizing they’re graves. Someone Yoongi’s not quite willing to kill—not yet. My Reactions: I read this through and then re-read it because it was so good. It was SO fascinating. There are notes about how the genre of Pistilverse works, but the author does a good job at using the tropes without making it confusing. Also please read the warnings. This made my brain spin for days and I want to do a Pistilverse AU sooo bad after reading it.

Murmuration by fringecity

Pairing: Taegimin Summary: Park Jimin is a rookie detective at the flashiest department in Seoul Metropolitan. When he's tasked to work with Min Yoongi - an apathetic, disgraced cop handling the ineffective cold case division - he doesn't expect the murder case they're working on to turn intensely personal. My Reactions: THIS BROKE ME AND THEN BROKE ME AGAIN AND THEN SCRAMBLED MY BRAIN AND EVERYTHING I BELIEVE IN IS WRONG AND FAILED SO MANY ATTEMPTS AT FIGURING OUT WHERE THIS WAS GOING AND MY BRAINS ARE SCRAMBLED EGGS WITH HOT SAUCE. One of my top fave fics on the year.

Turn Up Your Light by spudcity

Pairing: Jimin and Yoongi Summary: Yoongi needs to secure a marriage to save his people. My Reaction: I've never wanted to smash two character's heads together more and make them kiss than I did in this. The world building is not only fascinating, but these characters are some of my favorites I've ever read. Period.

Forest, Fire by rkiveink

Pairing: Jimin and Jungkook Summary: In a facility creating genetically modified humans for an elite military unit, alpha Jungkook is used to being overlooked. He’s classified as a ‘C-grade’ for his passivity and lack of aggression. When one of the facility’s valuable omegas goes feral, it’s exactly this nature that makes him perfect to try and tame him. But, even the calmest souls catch fire when they have something to fight for. My Reactions: *ripping my hair our* *taking anxiety medication* *crying sobbing screaming* *blood pressure spiking* i love this fic with every ounce of my being. It updates every Sunday and 4/6 chapters are posted currently.

#fic recs #bts fics #bts fanfic #bts mem x mem

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iamsherlocked1479 · 1 year

Note

Hi, I love your blog firstly! ^^ Secondly…could I request a Sherlock x fem!reader where she’s a young and newly trained detective (maybe slight age gap if you’re comfortable!) who he secretly has a bit of a fancy for, but he’s absolutely awful to her because he doesn’t like the way she makes him feel. She gets shot during a case after following Sherlock when he told her not to, but doesn’t realise until after the fact when the suspect has been caught - her speech starts to slur, she goes all dizzy etc., but she doesn’t actually realise what’s happening to her until she sees the blood. Sherlock realises he’s made a grave mistake and miscalculated the entire case, and almost losing her makes him realise how much he cares. A million bonus points and a gold star for overprotective Mary and doctor-mode John <3

Kiss me

Description: Sherlock doesn't understand that he has a crush on you and has no way to deal with it and then something happens to you. my attempt at fluff, not always my strong suit.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: none

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“Are you sure this is the right place?” You say stepping out of the cab following closely behind your mentor.

“Absolutely I have never been wrong as of yet.” Sherlock bragged as he pulled his scarf around

“The bloody guardsman?” John chuckled from behind

“I wasn’t wrong, I just haven’t solved it yet, it's still an open case.” Sherlocked muttered he wasn’t one for admitting his defeat, yet again he wasn’t one to hire an apprentice. But he didn’t ever imagine being so intrigued with a person as he was with you, when he looked at someone he could tell you things even they didn’t know about themselves. But you? You were different, the only thing he could piece together is which perfume he preferred, the answer to that was your more expensive kind, the kind you only wore on special occasions. He thanked the day he bursted into lestrade's office and you were there waiting to be assigned your first case, luckily for you, John had just gotten married and Sherlock was. Well he didn’t like to say it, but he was lonely. And you were quite the catch, he just couldn’t understand his fascination with you. And now here the three of you where, searching an abandoned junkyard for a man suspected of killing three people over a two thousand year old vase. It sounded boring at first, but when you had so kindly pointed out that this man had repeatedly been seen with Jim Moriarty, he knew he had to be a part of the capture.

“Will you two stop bickering, we’ve been trying to catch this guy for two months.” you whisper

“She’s right, shut up john.” Sherlock said, opening the door into the warehouse. The heavy metal door creaked as you stepped through closing behind you with a large bang. You walked down between the old shelves when suddenly something rattled causing an old bottle to smash to the floor ahead. The noise rattled the three of you, Sherlock pushing you to the wall with his finger to your lips shushing you. You gulped as his tall frame pressed against you, his finger trailed softly on your lips leaving you both locked onto each other's eyes. Your mouth grew dry as you stared into his blue gems shining in the dim light creeping through the old windows.

“It was just a bird.” John said, snapping you out of your staring contest.

“Right.” Sherlock stepped ahead brushing his coat off.

“Y/n wait.” John tugged on your arm pulling you aside “you know he struggles to focus with you around him. We’ve been after this guy for a while, in the politest way, don’t distract him.” His tone was soft but his eyes were serious. You weren't denying you didn’t feel an attraction to Sherlock but he was at least eight years older than you, plus it would be seen as unprofessional within the contract you had. surely it was just a crush. These things fade. Right?

“I won’t do anything I don’t need to.” You held your arms up

“Good.” He said catching up with Sherlock who crouched behind a pile of old barrels.

“Look, that's him.” He said as you knelt beside him. You watched as the poorly dressed suspect paced up and down as he spoke nervously through the phone.

“Mr Moriarty please, I just need some more time. I promise I can get the package too, they just- they hired some private detective.” He paused, muffled yelling could be heard echoing down the hall “why does it matter.” He sighed “I don’t know, tall curly hair.” He tutted “yeah Sherlock holmes and john watson i believe. And I don't know who the other one is, just some police chick.” You furrowed your brow at his remark.

“I'm not with the police, you muttered.” This caused the man to look in your direction. “Shit” you whispered

“Loom i gotta go, I promise you’ll receive it soon.” He hung up and pulled a gun from his coat pocket. “Who’s there?!” He shouted cautiously, walking towards you.

“Follow my lead.” Sherlock said, passing you his gun and looking towards a corridor leading to behind where the man was standing, before he got up slowly bringing his hands to his head. “Sherlock Holmes and this is my associate. Dr John Watson”

“I know who you are.” The man said as he aimed the gun, switching between the two of them. You crept slowly down the corridor listening to the conversation.

“That was jim Moriarty on the phone, correct?” Sherlock asked, moving closer.

“What does it matter to you, I’ll be a dead man in the morning.” The man shakily said

“What did he want?” Sherlock asked, moving closer.

“The package.” He said

“What's the package?” John asked. The man's arm jolted the gun between them

“Stop!” He yelled “don’t come any closer!”

“Okay, okay. What if we could help.” John said

“What? No, we need the package.” Sherlock said

“What if we can help the gentleman?” John proposed

“Enough! I’ll shoot.” The man said, clicking the gun and aiming it at sherlock. You jumped from your hiding spot aiming the weapon at the man.

“Put the gun down.” You demanded, he turned to you and aimed

“No I can’t, he’ll kill me!” The man cried

“We van work this out!” John shouted

“Where is moriarty?” Sherlock interrogated

“Put the gun down man, I’ll shoot!” The man cried again

“Calm down” you said pointing your gun at him

“Enough with the demands!” The man winced as he pulled the trigger, you did the same and a loud bang rippled through the steel walls surrounding you. The man dropped to the floor and you rushed over kicking his gun away “it's too late.” He whimpered

“Why?” You asked as you knelt beside him

“The reich-recih” he stuttered “The reichenbach fall.” It was all he managed to say before his head slumped to the floor.

“Y/n!” John said rushing towards you

“It’s okay i-i’m” you paused feeling the heat run through your abdomen before looking down and watching as red poured from you, blood covering your hands. “J-john help.” You said as your breath began to leave you.

“Oh shit, it's okay, hold on.” He said laying you down and pushing on your abdomen. “Sherlock help me!” He shouted, he stood frozen besides you watching and the red lake grew larger. “Sherlock!”

“Wha-what can i do.” He said kneeling down

“Scarf!” John held out his hand and Sherlock gave him his scarf to which he pressed down on you.

“Sh-sherlock.” You reached out your hand which he took gently squeezing it as your grip loosened and your vision blurred.

Then it was bright, you could hear the sounds of sirens and then the rattling of your bed being pushed through doors and then, you were asleep.

Sherlock sat beside your bed for hours, he was perplexed, all he could do was blame himself. He should have never let his own fascination with you put you in so much danger, he shouldn’t have let his theory of spending more time with you being the way to give him the answers he desired the most. This was his fault, and all he could do was wait. Wait for them to say you would be okay, way for them to say he could hold you wait-

“Sherlock.” He heard your soft voice wash over the fears in his mind. He stepped over and squeezed your hand

“Y/n its okay, I’m here, you’re safe now.”

“What happened? Did we get him?” You winced as you sat up

“The case isn’t important, the only thing that matters is that you’re okay, the bullet missed anything vital.”

“The bullet?” You reached down, feeling the swollen mass of bandages wrapped tightly around your stomach.

“I’m sorry y/n this is all my fault.” Sherlock paused, his eyes becoming glassy with what you could only guess were tears. “I thought that if I could spend more time with you, then maybe I would get my answer.”

“What answer?” You asked

“The answer, when I look at someone I could tell you more than what they know about themselves. It's why I’m so good at what I do, but with you all I get is how beautiful you are. I can’t concentrate when you are around. You are my distraction and when I watched what he did to you I froze. For a moment i believed everything i aimed to protect in this world could be lost, and that's all because i almost lost you i don’t understand i-

You pushed your lips against his, his eyes widened as your lips locked before he sank into the kiss wrapping his arms gently around your neck trying not to put too much pressure on your wound. He pulled away, resting his brow on yours as you caught your breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” you smiled

“You should have done it sooner, i believe it provided me an answer.” he laughed

“I don’t think my superiors are going to be happy about this.” you sighed

“In my experience lestrade doesn’t like anything that happens without his knowledge.” Sherlock smiled

“And to my knowledge relationships weren’t your thing” John's voice appeared in the doorway, where his arms crossed and a slight look of disappointment. “Care to explain?”

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A/N: really great request sorry its not amazing i tried to write fluff instead of smut for a change, i hope thats okay and really hope i get some more requets soon. Chapter 10 will be posted soo so stay tuned :)

#sherlock x reader #sherlock fluff #bbc sherlock #sherlockbbc #sherlock fandom #benedict cumberbatch

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criticalrolo · 1 year

Text

who wants to read how Kestrel and Willow first met. @actionsurges this one's for you

ethical methodology, 3.7k words

“Shut the door behind you,” General Tidon says, not looking up from the mess of scrolls and maps spread across his desk.

Willow already knows that this assignment will be different from the others – there had been no need for secrecy when she’d been summoned to the fort before. She turns her back to close the door and whispers the incantation to detect Tidon’s thoughts, keeping the hand motions subtle and concealed beneath the folds of her purple traveling cloak.

Tidon’s surface level thoughts open up to her like a book. The usual frustrations are there, as they always are when she gets called in for a difficult case. However, he is also unusually excited, a bright spark of energy flaring to the top of his mind in a manner that seems almost… giddy.

She takes a seat opposite the general. “Your message said this was urgent. What happened?”

He looks up, and detecting his thoughts confirms that yes, it is a flash of discomfort and unease that dashes across his face when he makes eye contact with her for the first time. Not enough to bury the odd mixture of irritation and anticipation he’s projecting, but enough for her to notice.

“Nearly two weeks ago, a squadron patrolling the western border of our territory captured one of the enemy’s war mages. The boys brought him back in for questioning, and it would have been a standard enough process, except one of them recognized the little bastard.”

Willow has been called in to work on a few of the enemy’s Birds in the past, each of them with well constructed mental wards that had taken a few tries to unravel. They’re challenging, but not unbreakable or incredibly exciting. Not enough to explain the urgency with which she was called upon or the way Tidon is practically vibrating in his chair.

Tidon slides a few sheets of parchment towards her: intel about their newest prisoner. She picks it up and starts flipping through the pages.

“This one’s calling himself Kestrel. We can’t find any other name he goes by, so we don’t have any leads for family or outside connections to mess with. My boys swear they recognized him as the mage that cast the temporal magic we’ve had hell trying to deal with in the past month.”

Willow looks up sharply from the intelligence file. “You believe he’s a chronurgist?”

“Quara thinks he’s the chronurgist, actually. First person to actually manage it on his own outside a lab.”

The mention of Tidon’s blood monk doesn’t fill her with confidence, but it certainly has Tidon worked up. He’s even moved past his initial discomfort at seeing her enter the room. Willow’s fingers linger on Kestrel’s file. He’s apparently only 22 years old.

“I take it she’s been working him over downstairs to no avail.”

“Questioning hasn’t proven very fruitful, despite Quara’s more colorful attempts. The problem for her is we need a fully intact mind to explain the details of chronurgy, and she’s had issues with the preservation of mental faculties in the past.”

“You’re saying you need a scalpel instead of your usual sledgehammer for this particular venture.”

Tidon visibly twitches when she says the word scalpel. Gods, she’s weird, he thinks. Out loud: “It will be double your usual commission fee, as well as access to any and all of the army’s resources that you’ll require, in exchange for the complete extraction.”

The offer of a blank check doesn’t completely disguise the strange sting of confusion that runs through her when she hears herself in Tidon’s thoughts as “weird.” Her face betrays nothing as she stands up from the table. “For something this important, it will likely take a few days of work. Maybe a full week.”

“Take your time to make sure it’s flawless, and you’ll have everything you need from us. I’m sure you remember the way below ground? I want you to get started right away.” Tidon stands as well, gesturing for her to follow him out of the room.

Wind howls outside the stone walls as Tidon leads her through the hallways and to the large oaken door at the entrance to the dungeon. There must be some sort of silence spell cast on it, because as soon as he pulls it open, Willow can hear a distant screech that sounds…ongoing.

Tidon goes to light a torch, but Willow pulls out her scalpel and creates a ball of purple light to guide them both down the stairs. He gives her a nod of appreciation, but that tinge of discomfort at the sight of her scalpel is still there.

The stairs are cold, even with Willow’s light and the torches blazing with blue fire ensconced on the walls. Willow exhales, and can see her breath in front of her. Trembling from the cold will be a major problem while attempting brain surgery in a cellar.

As she goes to ask Tidon to provide her operating room with some sort of heating apparatus, her detect thoughts spell picks up on the low murmur coming from inside the cell at the base of the stairs. Whoever is inside has heard their footsteps, and is desperately begging the Gods that they will pass him by. Willow closes her mouth and doesn’t speak, although she’s not exactly sure why.

A dark hallway stretches before them. Occasional whimpers are audible behind solid locked doors, although whoever was screaming earlier seems to have stopped. Tidon ushers her along briskly, and not a single thought of his strays towards the people locked away down here.

He stops in front of a cell with blue light streaming out from underneath the door and unlocks it with a heavy iron key. The door creaks open. He sticks his head inside and says, “Quara, your reinforcements are here.”

“Very well – I was just finishing up.”

Tidon jerks his head at Willow, motioning her inside. She steps through the doorway with her purple light and immediately begins detecting two new sets of thoughts: the nearly meditative thrum of the albino woman in brown robes whose hands are coated in a few layers of congealed blood, and the sharp spike of frazzled panic from the battered red haired wizard tied to a table in front of her.

“A pleasure to see you again,” Quara says, giving Willow a serene smile. Her thoughts betray her – the woman is livid that Willow has arrived to take over. “I was just speaking with Kestrel here about the importance of honesty and the healing power of blood and truth spilled before the light of the Gods.”

Quara’s interior dedication to her god of blood is blazing and nearly overwhelming. If Willow didn’t dislike her so intensely she might have found her fascinating. Instead, she takes a moment to look over her new subject. Kestrel’s red hair hangs limp around his pale face, and she can see the odd angle of his left knee as well as the blood soaking through his torn shirt. He stares back at her, vivid purple eyes meeting her dark red ones. She hears the rapid-fire string of questions that shoot through his mind well before he coughs and asks in a thin voice, tight with pain, “Who are you?”

“My name is Dr. Willow Amaryllis. I am a brain surgeon and neurology researcher at the nearby university.”

“What…” He has to pause to cough and tries to inhale. His thoughts scatter at the influx of pain shooting through broken ribs before he can gather himself again. “What sort of brain surgeon ends up working for the army?”

“One who doesn’t wish to cause you any more pain.” Willow nudges Quara out of the way so she can sit down in front of Kestrel. “I know you doubt that, but it is the truth.”

“We won’t have to get Dr. Willow here involved if you just tell us what we want to know,” Tidon says from the doorway.

Kestrel’s eyes widen. “What does that mean?”

“I have developed safe methods of information extraction, directly from a patient’s mind, which are painless and seamless. If you do not wish to give up the information willingly, then I will remove it from the source myself.”

The frantic thoughts racing through Kestrel’s mind are a bit distracting, although Willow is attempting to be reassuring. “The process is painless. Your consciousness will be kept safe for the duration of the procedure.”

“No, you can’t –”

Quara comes up from behind Willow and drives a fist into Kestrel’s face so quickly Willow can hear his neck snap to the side. “It is not up for debate. Tell us your methods, or Willow will tell us for you.”

“Be careful, Quara,” Tidon snarls. “We need that brain whole and undamaged.”

Kestrel pants and spits a globule of blood out onto Willow’s hand. “Fuck you. You won’t learn anything from me.”

“Very well.” Willow raises her scalpel and begins to cut her first spell into the air. “I will be placing wards in your mind to bind your consciousness far away from here. As long as you remain in that place, no harm will come to you.”

Kestrel attempts to say something else, but his scattered mind capitulates to her spell quite quickly, and his eyes roll back into his head. Willow mentally tugs on the magical tether created between her mind, his, and their physical bodies. Everything seems to be in place.

“I’m getting started,” she says. “Bring down some food, water, and probably a blanket or two. We’ll be down here for a while.”

“Careful with that one.” Tidon gives her a nod and heads out of the room.

“I think I’ll stay,” Quora says. “I find meditating in these halls clears the mind like nothing else.”

“As long as you do nothing to distract me. This is a delicate process, and any interference could be disastrous for me and for him.”

Quora says nothing, but gives her a disquieting smile before kneeling in the corner of the room and closing her eyes. Willow resists the urge to roll her eyes and turns her focus back to her subject. She’ll only have to make one small cut for her spell to gain access to the inner workings of his mind. She carefully parts the center of his hair and makes an incision behind his hairline, so there won’t be any visible scarring he’ll have to deal with.

A drop of blood runs down Kestrel’s face. Willow touches his forehead, raises her scalpel, and begins.

The sensation of switching from the vividness of the real world to the fractal patterns and jumbled biological projections of a mental landscape has always been soothing to Willow. She is in a place where physical reality is secondary to intentions and will. Here, she can reach out with her magic and use the natural flow of her thoughts to guide along neural pathways to whatever information she seeks. Kestrel’s mind is complicated and restless beneath her fingers as she starts to prod the network for information about his chronurgy and where it comes from.

The cells twist and jerk, rejecting her search, but she knows the way these building blocks function, and how to be as unobtrusive as possible. She molds her shape in this place to resemble a curious internal seeker, and not a threat, before reaching out with her scalpel again. This time she can tug on a mental thread and follow it where it leads, as though she is simply another thought racing through Kestrel’s head. After sifting through what feels like hundreds of mental threads, her guiding impulse comes to an abrupt stop.

She examines the neuron her scalpel has settled on. Nothing extraordinary jumps out at an immediate glance, other than the barest trace of the temporal distortion magic she’s on the hunt for. She carefully peels back the myelin sheath to get a better look at the axon. There’s no magic in this neuron in particular, but it certainly passed through this way. It’s a start, at least.

As she thinks this, she feels Kestrel’s consciousness start to press against her own from far, far away.

Be still, she projects. I have a scalpel inside your head. Unexpected movement will cause you damage and pain.

Instead of quieting down, Kestrel’s mind starts to thrash wildly. The landscape around her begins to shudder and recoil from her touch. He comes alarmingly close to breaking through the barrier between the real world and the deeper world he should be sedated within when Willow severs the link and blinks open her physical eyes.

“I said,” she says, placing her hands on both sides of his face to hold him steady, “be still.”

“Did you find it?” Quara asks from her position on the floor.

Willow doesn’t bother giving her an answer, and instead adjusts Kestrel’s head on the table. “Throwing yourself about while I have a knife in your head will only cause you problems. I have no desire to cause you pain or brain trauma, and the only mind you will be damaging is your own.”

Kestrel locks eyes with her, says nothing in response to her words of caution. She thinks she sees a glint of… something strange, wavering in his expression. Her detect thoughts spell has worn off, so she’s not exactly sure what he’s thinking, and she doesn’t want to cause him excessive pain by prodding the sore area she’d just ripped them both away from.

End of day one, she notes to herself. No further progress.

Day two, no further progress.

Day three, no further progress.

“What are you doing?”

Quara has stuck her hands two knuckles deep in a cut slashed into Kestrel’s abdomen. She turns around to give Willow a wan smile even as Kestrel writhes on the bloodstained table.

“Your methods have been taking too long. I thought I’d encourage him by reminding him of our other strategies for extraction.” Her smile is yellow against the sickly pale white of her skin. “Besides, my god has been lacking for tribute this past week.”

“Step away from him,” Willow says harshly. “He’s under my care now, not yours.”

Quara contritely pulls her hands away, raising them in surrender. Kestrel makes a choking sound as blood spills out of his stomach.

Willow waits for Quara to step away from the table, then hurries forward to press her hands against the gash. It’s shallow and non-life threatening, but the edges are clearly red and irritated. Kestrel jerks beneath the pressure.

“Don’t worry,” Willow says calmly. “I have plenty of experience with stitches and wound sterilization to prevent infection.”

Kestrel gazes up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

Willow sighs, keeping one hand pressed to his chest while digging through her tool bag for her suturing kit. “This sort of cruelty is unnecessary. My methods of information retrieval are much more humane.”

Kestrel lets out a sharp bark of hoarse laughter. “My god, you really believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Cutting apart flesh to force someone into divulging information is barbaric when there are much safer direct options.”

He sighs, twitching when she starts sewing the first stitch, and lets his head fall back with a thud against the reddened wood. “Hardly seems any different to me.”

Day four, no further progress.

Day five. Day six. No further progress.

“There has to be something you can do to speed this up,” Tidon grouches, crossing his arms and leaning against the cold stone walls.

“You could always let me do some of the work,” Quara says. She is kneeling quietly in the corner, far away from the table in the center of the room.

Willow stops her scalpel mid casting. Kestrel’s mind hovers in a halfway space, partially concealed behind the protective barrier. “Your work is questionable at best in this case, Quora. Trying to find information when half of his neurons are flooded with pain signals makes my job exponentially more difficult.”

“Quora won’t be touching him again, not after last time,” Tidon says wearily. “But in the meantime, isn’t there anything you could do that would give you a bit more direction?”

Willow hesitates, scalpel still hovering in the air. “I suppose… if we allowed his consciousness a little bit more freedom, his automatic thoughts would be more likely to direct me to the source of his power. However, any degree of consciousness during a surgical procedure runs the risk of causing him pain or trauma.”

“Do I seem like someone all that concerned about causing pain to a prisoner?” Tidon says, raising an eyebrow.

Something twinges deep inside Willow’s heart, but she ignores the feeling. “You must understand: trauma and pain can warp memories and recollection. It could damage the thoughts I am attempting to extract. And you wanted this procedure to be flawless.”

“I also wanted the procedure finished days ago. The benefits we stand to gain from even some information on actual chronurgy are worth the risk.” Tidon’s voice is harsh and decisive. “You have new instructions, Dr. Amaryllis. Use the partial consciousness method and get us those notes.”

For a split second, Willow considers refusing. Kestrel’s mind is already hanging in limbo between the real world and the subconscious, poised on the edge of a knife for her decision.

Finally, she nods. “Very well. I will do my best to keep this as clean as possible.”

“I don’t care about clean, I care about results.” Tidon’s imperious stance relaxes. “You may proceed.”

Willow takes hold of the magical tethers connecting their minds to their bodies. They feel different this time, now that she’s keeping Kestrel a bit more grounded in his physical form. While constructing the magical barrier keeping his mind safe, she factors in windows for him to see through. Not nearly enough for him to escape from without wreaking massive havoc on his mind, but enough that his consciousness should be able to provide her with impulses and directions on her search.

Descending into his mind feels clumsier than usual. The natural pathways she is used to traversing without effort shift and sway and change direction abruptly, as though they can’t decide what to focus on. However, there is a heightened awareness to the landscape that she instantly knows she can direct.

Where is the source of your magic? She asks.

Almost instantly she can feel an automatic response from Kestrel’s mind. The surge of an electrical impulse shoots off through the neural pathways, and she follows, heading deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind. He’s done a decent job hiding behind barriers and wards, but chasing the automatic nature of his thoughts is childishly easy.

A bright light made up of scattered golds and blues and purples glows in the center of a mess of neurons.

There you are, she thinks.

And then, Kestrel decides to wreak havoc.

Before she can react, Kestrel’s conscious mind flings itself forward at the barrier, shattering it and sending sprays of untamed psychic magic flying everywhere.

Stop – you’ll hurt yourself! Willow shouts wildly, trying to reign in the surge of magic.

I know, a grim thought answers back.

Willow understands his plan the moment he throws himself forward onto her scalpel, impaling his mind on her blade. She reels back, trying to untangle herself from the web of neurons before Kestrel’s mind goes into meltdown. Distantly, she can hear someone screaming as Kestrel cuts his source of power to ribbons and tears himself in half.

She severs the tethers between them, rocketing back to her physical body right before Kestrel explodes in a surge of white hot energy. She only has time to think oh fuck –

A high pitched ringing in her ears is the first thing she’s aware of. Her cheek is pressed against stone that is frigidly cold, almost like it has been coated in ice. When she blearily opens her eyes, she can only make out the blur of the cell floor and a figure trying to free itself from the table it’s tied to.

She blinks away the blood trickling down into her eyes, and the world lurches into a bit more focus.

The figure on the table – it looks like Kestrel, but she instantly knows that something is severely wrong with him. Invisible wind whips around someone who looks to be made of shadows, a half figure stradling this world and the next. He turns his head towards her, and his eyes have been replaced by shining cold lights. A jagged fissure splits his forehead down the middle, spilling blue light across the bloodied table.

As she watches silently, the figure pants and gasps before coming to a shuddering halt. He freezes, takes in one deep breath, and exhales slowly. The shadows melt away, and Kestrel reappears on the table. Blood is spurting from his nose and ears, but he is focused completely on stretching his fingers towards the bloodied scalpel lodged in the wood of the table. After a few seconds of straining, he catches it and yanks it free, slashing through the ropes and tumbling awkwardly free to the ground.

Willow remains slumped against the wall, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he drags himself over to Tidon’s body and feels around for his ring of keys. He pulls it off the general’s belt with a gasp of triumph, then turns to look at her.

His wild purple eyes lock with her own. She blinks at him slowly. She can’t think of anything to say.

Kestrel tosses the scalpel towards her like it’s burning him. It clatters to the ground. She wants to reach out for it, but she can’t find the energy to move her arms just yet. The floor is coated in ice and blood.

As Kestrel stumbles his way towards the door and begins fumbling for the right key, she closes her eyes. There’s nothing she wants to do more than simply let herself drift back to sleep and not think about what she’s just done. The door creaks open behind her, and Kestrel’s staggering footsteps run away.

#kestrel #willow #dnd story #kestrillow #my art #these two are ridiculous. god i love them so much #NORMAL FIRST MEETINGS. NORMAL FIRST MEETINGS

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c-swirlz · 9 months

Text

Phantom Thief of Hearts (And a Grappling Hook)

Prompt: 41) Write the fic from a different character's POV. Summary: The notorious thief Joker has a run-in with the detective chasing him down. Shenanigans ensue. Relationships: Goro Akechi/Persona 5 Protagonist Warnings: None Characters: Goro Akechi, Persona 5 Protagonist Notes: Written for @twbmccevent! This is a remix of @ranbinary's fic, of stealing hearts (and atms). [AO3 link]

Joker flies over rooftops one by one, the wind making his hair fly in all sorts of crazy directions. With pinpoint precision, he fires his grappling hook towards the edge of each new building, allowing himself to swing across the gap for a brief moment before getting the device to pull him upwards.

Glancing down at the road below as he moves, Joker spots a familiar face shoving through the crowd of people gathered there. He smiles, pausing on the roof of the building at the very end of the road, watching as the young detective rapidly closes in on his position. Sure, he could easily just fly to the next set of buildings and lose his pursuer completely, but where’s the fun in that? He instead stashes his grappling hook away and jumps down, ducking around the corner. Footsteps fast approaching, Joker leans against the wall, staring at his gloves as he attempts to look as disinterested as possible.

“Looking for me, detective?” he says, lips curling up into a smirk as Akechi rounds the corner. Glancing up, he can see the detective have to fight to keep a calm, collected expression, almost rolling his eyes before stopping himself.

“You know I am. I’ve been assigned to your case for the past month.”

A whole month? Well damn, Joker must be better at evading capture than he thought. Either that or Akechi is just a shit detective. To be honest, it could very well be a combination of the two. “And yet it took me slowing down for you to catch me.” He’s well aware that his shit-eating grin is visible even beneath the mask, which makes this infinitely funnier. “Now tell me, detective, are you here to turn me in?”

“I should be.” Joker pulls his grappling hook back out, fiddling with it while Akechi continues to speak. Honestly, it’s rather impressive he’s managed to maintain his composure for this long. Joker can’t help but respect the effort. “That depends, though. What did you do this time?”

A coin sits snug in the palm Joker’s free hand. Where it came from, he’ll never tell. When he flicks it up to his fingertips to hold between two fingers, Akechi’s slightly bewildered expression is almost enough to make him laugh. Almost.

“Oh, not much. Not much at all.”

Akechi pauses, and Joker can practically see the cogs in his brain turning at mach speed. This happens a lot. It’s become a game at this point; guessing Joker’s crime of the day. Or week. Depends on what mood he’s in. Today, though, it wasn’t anything super glamorous, just breaking into a few more ATMs. He did consider orchestrating a bank robbery, but ultimately decided that was too much effort. A good choice, he thinks.

Akechi presses a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He does it right between the eyes, too, which can’t possibly be very comfortable. “I really should turn you in right here and now.”

Joker pushes himself off the wall, meeting Akechi’s gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a fire escape protruding from the wall above them, leading up to a balcony. “Should you, now? C’mon.”

“It’s literally my job, Joker.”

Yeah, Joker’s going to take that as his cue to get a move on. He fires the grappling hook at the fire escape, watching as it makes perfect contact with the railing and loops itself around the bars. It’s the perfect escape route. He raises an eyebrow in Akechi’s direction: your move.

“I do have you right here, for once.”

Without breaking eye contact with his adversary, Joker moves a dial on his device with one hand. Very, very slowly, he starts rising up towards the fire escape.

“I could still grab you, idiot. Has anyone told you you’re an idiot recently? They should do it more.”

Joker can’t help but smile at that. “You could say that, yeah, I’ve been told that a bit.” He slides the dial just a small bit further, raising the grappling hook’s speed a tiny amount. He’s still firmly within Akechi’s reach, but the young detective makes no move to apprehend him.

“Is that going to hurt eventually?” Akechi casually lifts a hand, pointing at Joker’s grappling hook. His head tilts up slightly, and Joker realises he’s starting to struggle with maintaining consistent eye contact. “You holding up your whole weight with one arm and all.”

Oh damn, he has a point. “Yeah, probably,” Joker says. “It’s definitely distracting you this way, though.” He can tell Akechi is really tempted to call him an idiot again. He can’t blame him.

“You’re like a foot off the ground. I could grab your hand, let alone your ankle.”

Joker smirks. “But you’re not.”

“Mostly because I wanted to talk to you first,” Akechi says, sounding exasperated, “but you won’t even stay still long enough to have a proper conversation.”

Ah, Joker’s missed this. He’d forgotten how entertaining it is to wind Akechi up like this. “I will stay long enough to ask how you’re going to tell your superiors you lost me, though.” He fiddles with the dial again, increasing the speed of the grappling hook one last time, and watches as Akechi raises an eyebrow.

“As far as they’re aware, this never happened. You turned the corner on a busy street and you were gone.”

“Good.” Joker breaks eye contact with Akechi, pulling the trigger on the grappling hook. He shoots up to the balcony in an instant, backflipping before landing on his feet. He leans over the railing, crossing his arms as he peers down at the poor detective stuck on the ground below. Well, not exactly stuck — the fire escape is right there — but it’s not like he’s making a move either way.

“Hey, I’ll see you around later, detective. Another time, maybe.”

Without waiting for a response, Joker leans back from the edge, concealing himself amongst the shadows. He watches Akechi leave, chuckling quietly to himself.

His job here is done.

The TV is on when Akira returns to his apartment, playing some random show he doesn’t recognise. He makes himself a fresh cup of coffee before flopping down on the couch in front of the screen, removing his glasses and running a hand through his hair. Several minutes later, he hears the latch of the door click. Looking up, he smiles when he spots his boyfriend entering.

“Hey. How was your day?”

“I think you know perfectly well how my day was.” Akira fights back the strong urge to laugh. Akechi strides over to where Akira is sitting, planting a kiss on his cheek. Akira loudly complains about Akechi blocking the view, but doesn’t actually care all that much. It was a dumb show anyway. The smile doesn’t leave his face the entire time.

“Business as usual, then?”

“You could say that.” Akechi slides into the other room for a brief moment, and when he returns, he’s no longer holding his briefcase. Akira assumes he put it on the table with all his paperwork, because the guy clearly doesn’t know how to keep a workspace organised. When Akechi returns, he takes a seat next to Akira, leaning back against the pillows. “Nearly caught a thief. Some random guy, very annoying, quite an idiot.”

Akira chuckles. Akechi really does have some strange obsession with calling people idiots. Or maybe he just reserves that especially for the elusive thief. How kind of him. “Oh? Annoying and an idiot? Quite a combination coming from you.”

“Did I forget handsome? Would you be happier then?”

“Definitely.” Akira can feel another laugh tickling the back of his throat, so he reaches for his coffee cup and takes a long, slow sip, which thankfully keeps it at bay.

“You’re going to have to show me that grappling hook later, by the way. I want to know how it works. I assume Sakura helped you with it?”

“She did, yeah.” Akira sets his cup back down on the table, thinking back to when he had approached Futaba with the idea for the device. She was ecstatic, and she’d barely left her room while she worked on it. It came out so much better than Akira had initially thought it would. “It was mostly her this time, but it was my idea. Thought it would be funny.”

“More like exasperating,” Akechi mutters, and Akira finds he can’t hold his laughter in any longer. It drowns out the sound of the TV almost completely.

Akira couldn't ask for a better life - or a better boyfriend.

#persona 5 #goro akechi #persona 5 protagonist #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #shuake #alternate universe #twb mcc event #twb mcc event green guardians #twb mcc event sands of time #swirlz scrawls

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remedywriter · 2 years

Text

Till The End Of Time

Issue 1

(Steve Rogers x fem!OC)

A/n: It's been awhile since I've been on tumblr. Hope I got the format right.

Warnings: murder, mentions of terrorism.

Brooklyn Barlowe was assigned to a new murder case. Being a detective, it wasn't unusual for her to be dealing with stuff like this. But she was a little intrested in how she ended up solving a murder case for a failed S.H.I.E.L.D. mission. When arriving on the scene of the crime, she was shocked to see Captain America. Brooke knew he worked with S.H.I.E.L.D. before, but she thought all of that ended when it was discovered that H.Y.D.R.A. infiltrated them. He looked depressed. Truly upset at the scene before him. She could've just started working kn the case, but she had a heart. She just couldn't bare to see him that upset with himself.

Brooklyn walked over to him and pat his shoulder. He turned up and looked at her.

"Was this your case?" She asked.

Steve nodded. "I didn't make it. It's all my fault."

"Don't blame yourself. I can guarantee you it wasn't your fault. Just because you didn't save him, doesn't mean you should blame yourself." Brooklyn stated.

"I know. I just can't help it." Steve sighed. "I know I can't save everyone, but I still have to try."

"A good start would be telling me what happened?" Brooklyn suggested. "My name's Brooklyn Barlowe. My friends call me Brooke."

"Steve Rogers." Steve smiled.

"I know." She laughed. "So can you tell me how we got to this?"

"I got an assignment to rescue a captured S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent. I tracked the bad guys down and figured out they were here. They must've found out I was coming. The agent was dead when I arrived."

"I'm sorry." Brooke said. "You said you could track them down. How?"

"They were spotted coming here after purchasing illegal weapons from the black market. S.H.I.E.L.D. was able to track down the dealer, but I couldn't save the agent." Steve explained.

"A weapons dealer." Brooke repeated. She grabbed a notepad and started writing things down. "These 'bad guys'. What exactly... makes them 'bad'? Who are they?"

"Terrorists from the middle east." Steve explained. "They're known for bombing schools. They started doing it in the Asia, then they became a S.H.I.E.L.D. problem when they attempted to do it here."

"But they failed?" Brooke asked.

"The agent. He was undercover as a weapons dealer. He got caught when they realized the bomb was a dud." Steve sighed. He still couldn't get passed the fact that he let someone die.

"Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I think I have an idea." Brooke smirked. "And," She tore off a piece of paper from her notepad. "if you need some cheering up sometime, here's my number."

Steve took the note. "Thank you, Ms. Barlowe."

"Please, call me Brooke." Brooklyn smiled. "I'm too young to be Ms. Barlowe."

Steve laughed. "Guess I'm just a little old fashioned."

"Maybe that's a good thing." Brooklyn smirked before she left. She went over and took a look at the crime scene.

The body of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent was in pretty good condition, other then the fact that he was dead. He had a bullet hole in his forehead, but nowhere else. For terrorists, they really didn't seem to treat him that badly. Even his death was quick and easy. It seemed a little suspicious for people who would be so willing to kill innocent children.

"What do we know about him?" Brooke asked the Forensic Examiner.

"Name's Mr. George Skinley. S.H.I.E.L.D Agent. Went undercover and got caught. No wife, no kids, no family." The man answered.

"Do you have his wallet?" She asked. The man nodded. "May I take a look?"

The man nodded again. Brooke put on some gloves before analyzing the wallet. She opened it and found a picture of him and a woman. She looked Middle Eastern.

"No wife, eh?" Brooke asked. "Well he liked someone enough to put her in his wallet."

She went back to looking through it. There were receipts for purchases made out of country.

"Did Mr. Skinley happen to visit the Middle East for this assignment?" She asked. The Foresic guy didn't know, so she asked a S.H.I.E.L.D. investigator.

"If he left, it wasn't for this assignment. As far as our records go, he was never given an assignment that would involve him leaving the country." The S.H.I.E.L.D Agent explained.

"Well I know what happened." Brooke announced. "He was a double agent. S.H.I.E.L.D. thought he was working for them, the terrorists thought he was working for them. His kidnapping after the weapons deal was a fake. They needed to get him away from S.H.I.E.L.D. for awhile. But they found out he had given them up when Captain America was sent to rescue him. So they killed him and left."

"And how do you know this?" The S.H.I.E.L.D agent asked.

"His wallet. He made purchases out of the country not too long ago. He has a picture with a Middle Eastern woman in a location that's not in America. Not to mention his body." Brooke explained. "No rope burns. No marks. Not even a single bruise. If he was their prisoner, that wouldn't be the case. Besides, why would they kidnap him? There were no demands, no ransom. They would've killed him. But he was on their side. Or so they thought. If he was truly on their side, he would've left with them. He didn't. They killed him. The only reason? He really was working for S.H.I.E.L.D. after all. Therefore, the only possible solution is he was a double agent."

"Wow." Steve gasped.

"I'll get some people working on confirming this theory." The S.H.I.E.L.D agent said. "Thank you for your help, Miss Barlowe."

"You're welcome, but I'm not finished." Brooke replied. "One of the receipts in his wallet is for a real legitimate weapons dealer. He even has the phone number, meeting place, and date written in a code on the back. I'm ex military though. I know a code when I see one. Have this deciphered, intercept their trade, and you've caught both the buyer and the dealer."

"I'll have people working on deciphering this code immediately." The S.H.I.E.L.D agent nodded.

Brooke was about to leave when Steve approached her.

"That was something." He laughed. "Ex military you say?"

"I was in the army for a couple years. I fought in the War of Iraq. I put together that there was going to be an assassination attempt on one of my commanders. I stopped it. He said I had a talent and should become a detective. So I did." Brooke explained.

"Thank you for your service." Steve smiled.

"Thank me? Captain America just thanked me?" Brooklyn laughed.

"Just because one soldier saves a thousand men, doesn't mean the soldier that saves one is any less a hero." Steve replied.

"You've saved a thousand men?" Brooke asked.

"It was an analogy." Steve laughed.

"But... have you?" Brooke pushed.

"I guess you'll have to ask me that another time. Perhaps when I need you to 'cheer me up'." Steve smiled.

"Ok." Brooke smiled back. "But I wouldn't feel guilty about not saving a guy who was working with terrorists."

"Don't worry." Steve chuckled. "I won't."

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liitlesunshiine · 3 years

Text

Villainous Taste

(Detective reader x Villain Bakugo)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, mentions of death, degradation, manipulation, very bad bad stuff, dubcon, noncon, assault, sub/dom themes, don’t read if sensitive to violent themes

_________________

You sighed in frustration at your desk that was fully covered with a mountain of papers. It’s been over year now since you’ve been assigned to the notorious Bakugo, Katsuki case; and you’ve made little to no progress on catching the pesky fucking villain. You were losing your patience by the day. Especially since it felt like a personal attack on your ego that you still haven’t managed to pin this guy down. The great detective Y/N, Y/LN getting played and taken a fool by the villain himself. It’s not like you’ve made no progress though. There were times, many instances in fact, when you managed to pin the villain down. The constant face to face encounters only ending with the villain toying with you and taunting you. It’s honesty a surprise that you’re still alive considering all the chances he has had to kill you. Condescending dick, you were sure he was getting off by the chase. This all seemed to be a game to him and it infuriated you even more since you were practically entertaining it. He was thriving off the little interactions with the quirkless detective.

The way he would cockily stride his way to you with that big smirk smeared across his face. Eyes devouring your body that left an unsteady chill run down your spine. His presence held such power and intimidation that you couldn’t help but take steps back with every step he took forward. You always felt like a deer in headlights whenever he swaggered towards you. No amount of experience or expertise will ever get you accustomed to his predatory gaze.

“Go figure they’d send a quirkless bitch my way. They must really hate’ya.” He said with a rather amusing look, never breaking his eye contact with you. He grabbed a piece of your hair twisting it softly between his fingers, as if he were inspecting it. You could’ve sworn he was sniffing it too.

Yea, you were quirkless but you managed to hold your own ground. Having to work ten times as hard, having to prove yourself among your peers and having to earn the respect and position you have worked so tirelessly for years. While being quirkless was a hinderance or handicap as some would say, it was a mountain that you decided needed to be climbed. You reached its peak and planted your flag years ago. This title wasn’t given to you mindlessly. You dedicated tears, sweat, and blood to get to where you are now. Gained recognition from higher up heroes themselves and even managed to get assigned to Bakugo’s case; the most wanted and powerful villain in Japan. Now, you weren’t in denial either, you were well aware you stood no chance against the hero toe to toe. Hell, even the top tier heroes themselves barely made it out alive. You were simply here to pinpoint his locations and set up an area for his arrest. What seemed to be a simple task ended up as a wide scale massacre with Bakugo skimping through all the heroes nonchalantly. It was a complete blood bath. All the pro heroes who were posted for defense that day were to be blown up to pieces; the graphic scene till this day haunts you in your sleep. Sleepless nights and paranoia became a norm, with the image of him dripping with blood casually stalking towards you was something that you have not been able to shake out of your head for months now.

He had forced you into an alley that day. You were trying your best to steady your breathing and figure out an attempt to get the fuck out of this predicament. Your eyes skimmed for any opening, avoiding his intense gaze, looking anywhere but his blooded face.

You felt your back hit against the wall. He was now sickly close to you, you placed your head down in shame looking at his shoes rather than his face. Knowing damn well there was no way out of this situation. Beads of sweat ran down your back and colored your forehead. He slammed both his hands against the wall, causing you to jump, your head now trapped in between his forearms. His body hovered over, the smell of blood forcing its way into your nose. The intense body heat radiating off of him, had your head spinning. You felt frozen in place, every worst case scenario rushing through your mind, trying to stay steady while silently sobbing to yourself.

“My eyes are up here slut.” He gripped your chin roughly forcing your eyes to meet his. You took in the rough image of the villain in front of you. You saw the spiky unruly hair sticking out in every direction, some parts drenched in the blood of his victims. His sharp facial features looked even more intimidating under this light, little scars freckled his skin here and there scattered throughout; and his 5 o'clock shadow appearing in patches. It was his eyes that took you by surprise most. None of the pictures posted online, none of the documents you saw ever matched what appeared in front of you. The dark ruby colored eyes stared curiously back at you, analyzing your every move. The stare felt strangely intimate, and it probably would’ve been considering the circumstance. Y/N wasn’t sure if she was really fully conscious of what was happening, but having him so close was making her feel unnerved. Hell, even as a villain there are many people who admire and drool over the criminal. But seeing him this up close drenched in the blood of your peers was when the fear and guilt washed over you and you quickly snapped out of his trance. You were brought back to your senses and reminded of your current predicament. The images of the heroes fighting and dying at the hands of this animal quickly flooded in. Anger now overwhelming your sense. You reminded yourself that you were quirkless, not helpless. And with that thought, you broke your intense gaze away from him, slapping his hand off your chin and quickly spitting in his face. The action caught him rather off guard and you took this delayed response to knee him in the balls and bolt for it “FUCKING BITCH!” He roared.

Ever since then your encounters with Bakugo have been rather odd to say the least. You didn’t really know how else to describe it. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. There were instances where he would get rather “touchy” and others where he would straight up just physically hurt you. It was a wind whirl of emotions and odd behavior whenever you encountered him. You didn’t know what to make of it either. He could’ve killed you months ago and the fact that he hasn’t, has left you feeling uncomfortable and confused. You felt yourself wanting to avoid him now, you haven’t been prioritizing his case anymore and you’ve lost all the spunk and passion you had in the beginning. Continuously failing to catch him and having countless of pro heroes dying at the hands of his explosions was something you no longer had the heart to bare.

Especially now that whenever you found him he’d just toy with you. It was beginning to seem as if he's looking forward to these little encounters, like he’s waiting for you. You began to notice the issue when he was becoming purposefully sloppy in hiding his tracks, it was if he was screaming to be caught. And after working his case for over a year Y/N knew his actions, how careful and precise he could be when he wanted to. A perfectionist in his own right but now, now he was practically waving a flag yelling at you where he is and to come and get him. This was a total 180 from his usual behavior and tactic and with each encounter becoming more unseemly; Y/N thought it was best to take a break from the scandalous villain. You decided on no longer participating on the missions. You couldn’t shake off the eerie feeling of this situation and where you were once so headstrong stepping into the battlefield, your courage and pride was stripped from you. Now the only thing you prioritize was staying the hell away from him. So with whatever information you did find on the villain was quickly handed over to the hero agency without any hesitation.

After a few months of you steering clear from the villain, his crime scenes were becoming more brutal and graphic by the week. His killing sprees drastically increasing and the victims were piling up. Y/N couldn’t help but to let guilt consume her. Thoughts of Bakugo infiltrated Y/N’s mind. From the moment she woke up, to while she’d desperately attempt to sleep. You felt yourself slowly going insane. As if your movements were being watched at all times. Your mental state began taking a toll on you and was affecting your work. You could no longer focus on anything for a span of time without the mere image of a bloodied Bakugo appearing in your head.

His case was one you guiltily found compassion in. One of the top students in UA Academy showing nothing but absolute potential to become a top ranking hero crumbled and fell to villainy after his long time friend Izuku Midoriya, was killed trying to save him. It appeared the guilt ate him up inside and as a result, Bakugo quickly blamed the heroes for being weak and unable and decided on taking matters to his own hands by killing everyone involved that day in Midoriya’s death. This paired on with him living in an abusive household led to what he is now, at least that’s what Y/N assumed. Y/N’s heart felt torn in two feeling somewhat sympathetic towards him due to his rough upbringing and traumatic past but either way it did not excuse the atrocities he was committing now. You felt yourself falling deeper into the rabbit hole because of this man. You finally decided this couldn’t continue on any longer. You requested a transfer, figure you cut your losses with Bakugo’s case and move on with your life.

It had been two weeks since you’ve transferred departments and moved into the inner city of Tokyo. It was new, it was adventurous, and it was a step forward. A perfect way to start fresh and move on. You felt the withdrawals from Bakugo’s case every now and then, mainly the guilt consuming you at night or whenever you saw the news appear on TV with a new crime he had committed. You did your best to avoid those emotions though. He was no longer your problem and you did everything you could anyways. Regardless, your attempts at catching him always resulted with blood on your hands.

It was a particular long day at work. You decided on staying later than usual setting up the finishing touches in your new office. You figured you’d also catch up on some cases to avoid getting swamped on Monday. By the end of it you came to realize it was a quarter past midnight. “Oh shit, I gotta get the hell outta here,’ you mumbled to yourself while you quickly got your personal things and organized the remaining loose ends in the office. You locked up everything and exited out the building, deciding on taking the metro home since you felt exhausted and couldn’t commit to the 2 mile walk.

You weren’t used to the metro being so empty and silent, but it was rather peaceful you thought. While the doors open you took no notice in the looming figure behind you. Exhausted and empty minded you walked in, to the doors behind you closing. You were instantly snapped out of your daze when you got shoved against the pole and a hand quickly covering your mouth to silence your scream.

“I’m real upset quirkless.” You immediately recognized the voice and a chill ran down your spine. You looked up to see the reflection of Bakugo off the window, he was staring at you dead in the eye. His signature scowl heavily evident on his face.

“Are you trying to hide from me? Made me follow your ass all the way to Tokyo now? Come on quirkless, you know I hate being teased.” He positioned himself to have his crotch lined up with your ass. You felt the pressure only getting bigger with each word he spoke. Your heart was racing by this point, you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp but he only gripped you harder as a result. He pulled your hair forcing you to look at him once again through the reflection.

“What happened slut, got bored of me? Am I not important enough anymore to catch? I’ve killed hundreds of people ya know, why did you stop trying to arrest me? Don’t tell me another villain got your attention. I don’t mind killing off the competition babe.” He gripped your hair even harder to the point where your skull was becoming numb, your cheeks already salted with tears.

“Fucking slut, I should seriously punish you. You’ve been making me work overtime.”

The train did a gradual stop and the doors open once again with two individuals walking in. Y/N felt a bit of hope wash over her until Bakugo moved to sit down on the opposite direction, forcing you on top and both your backs facing the two people who just walked in. Since he was wearing a hoodie no one would be able to recognize him from this angle. Right now the situation looked like two people who are just foundling on the train. You now sat directly on top of the villain’s lap. His hand still covering your mouth harshly. When you felt the bulge in his pants fully erect is when you began to whimper.

“Awe, did my slut miss me? Don’t worry detective, I’ll give you some nice warranted attention.” His free hand began to stroke your exposed thigh. The action immediately had you squish your thighs together and attempt to get away. But he simply responded with gripping you tighter.

“Try anything and I’ll fucking take you right here, right now. I’ll blow up everyone in this fucking train. Try me bitch.”

He placed a testing hand on your thigh and tapped it softly as if waiting for your reaction. You stayed still not daring to move. “Come on baby, open up for your favorite villain.”

You silently nodded your head no, more tears springing out. He gripped your thigh roughly.

“Y/N, I won’t ask again. Fucking open.” The authority and venom that came from that demand left you having goosebumps. The fear reached you and before you knew it, you had your legs opened and spread for him.

"Atta girl.” He hummed satisfied and began stroking your inner thigh. Absolute shame and guilt overtaking your senses, you felt completely out of control and held prisoner. Your mind trying to disassociate itself with the current reality you’re in right now. But only to being brought back with his rough hands violating you and his threatening tone looming over you. “Now, I’m gonna release my hand from your mouth. If you make any fucking noise, I’ll kill everyone in this metro and make you watch while they beg for their lives, m’kay.” You nodded rather quickly, you wouldn’t be dumb enough to even dare to do such a thing. Too many people have already fallen victim to this animal, you refuse to take part in anymore blame for it. You’d figure you just let him use you and quickly get over the situation and forget it ever happen. Maybe you’ll set up an attempt to try and kill him yourself. Either way, the sooner this is over the sooner you get to go home and ball your eyes out and come up with a plan. He hummed again with your response.

“Good girl.” His hand slowly and hesitantly left your mouth and snaked its way to your thighs. He gripped both of them and forced your legs to open wider.

"Really liking the skirt baby. Makes accessing you so much easier.” He chuckled in your ear, mocking you. Ironic considering this is the first time you’ve worn a skirt in over a year. Your fucking luck. This whole thing was just entertainment for him, bastard.

His hands slowly made themselves lower reaching the inner most part of your thighs. He pulled the skirt up, completely showcasing your thong and pantyhose. You practically heard him salivating behind you. You tried to close your legs feeling painfully embarrassed.

“Tsk. What did I say Y/N” he forced your legs apart once again but with more aggression and speed, that lead you to buckle your hips onto him. You instantly became flushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the realization of what you just did. You heard him groan.

“Such a fucking tease.” He ripped your pantyhose apart, giving him full entrance to your underwear. The cold air had a cooling sensation on your inner thighs and you felt yourself softy throb. You let out a silent whine and he quickly shoved two of his fingers in your mouth while the other started doing soft circles on your clit.

“Fuck quirkless. You’re so wet, always knew you were a fucking whore for me.”

Even to your surprise you didn’t expect yourself to be this hot and ready for him. You felt completely betrayed by your body but you couldn’t help in relishing in the sensation. It felt so good to finally be touched by someone even if it was someone as vile as him. Is this what it feels like to have the most dangerous man about finger fuck you on the metro train? Maybe you can just pretend you’re getting touched by Jim- the cute and quirky coworker of yours, but with every flick even that was seeming to be difficult already. You were sucking and licking his fingers shamelessly and subconsciously grinding down on his erection. You were definitely disgusted from yourself. But you’d be lying if the thought of fucking this villain hasn’t crossed your mind. Especially with the constant harassment you faced whenever you crossed paths, how he’d violate you but never to this extent. Always leaving you in an array of emotions. Even now you’re having a hard time understanding what exactly is happening.

Your eyes snapped right open when the fingers in your mouth left to slap your pussy. You glared at him with a concerning look. He only smiled in response, the sadistic kind.

“You seemed distracted baby. Got me doing all this work and you’re not even paying attention.”

His wet fingers hooked your underwear and causally pulled them off. You were now completely exposed and the reality of the situation was settling on you. “Bakugo please don’t.”

“After you were sucking and grinding on me? Don’t act so innocent now bitch, you’re fucking soaked. Pussy is practically begging for my cock.”

He slipped one finger inside slowly, as if he was exploring the inside of your pussy. His fingers were thick and scarred due to years of using his quirk. The sensation alone was enough for you to throw your head back on his shoulder, opening your legs wider for him. You couldn’t grasp the reason for your actions. Here you were shamelessly opening yourself up and enjoying the fingers of a villain who has caused so much destruction and brought about so much pain in your life. How is it that you’re enjoying this? You really are a terrible person.

“Fuck baby, this is quite the sight.”

Any attempt in trying to hide what you and Bakugo were doing was completely thrown out the window by the sloppy and lewd noises from the villain fingering you. You began to bite your bottom lip in attempt to hold back the moans trying to escape you when he added a second finger.

“Don’t hold them noises back, let these people know how good you feel from just by my fingers slut.” By this point you couldn’t control the soft noises coming out of you even though you were trying. He was fingering you with such expertise, you were feeling yourself beginning to melt under him. When was the last time someone had touched you liked this? Are you so touch starved that you’re about to cum from out of all people- Bakugou Katisuki? Your mind was spinning.

The train reached its second stop. You tried to close your legs and compose yourself before the doors had open but Bakugo didn’t stop his assault. “Bakug-“

“Keep them open baby. We’ll put on a show for whoever sees. I don’t give a fuck.”

The only two passengers who were on the train walked out rather quickly and with no one else entering, it was just you and this villain inside. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or bad but at least the risk of him hurting someone else isn’t looming over your head. Instead of taking this moment to escape you threw your arms up gripping Bakugo by the neck. Might as well and try to get this over with. Sooner this ends, the sooner you get go home and bleach your skin clean and pray for forgiveness to whichever god decides to listen. This action did indeed catch him slightly by surprise but he stopped fingering you momentarily and ripped your shirt off revealing your bra to him. He quickly gripped both of your breasts massaging them in his hand.

“Turn around.” He huskily said into your ear. Already lost in the sensation of how good he was making you feel, you quickly got off him to then get back on straggling him. You were now back on him facing him with your cunt completely exposed, skirt crumbled up to your waist, and your breasts directly in his face. He was smirking down on you. He gripped the center of your bra and activated his quirk leaving the bra in shreds.

“Any idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck this pretty little body of yours?” He gripped your neck, choking you slightly while his mouth made his way to your nipple. “Way too fucking long. Gonna devour your little cunt. Gonna make you pay for all the trouble you’ve been causing me.” His hand left your throat and began squeezing and pinching your nipple. The action causing a moan to rip out of you. “Fucking bitch, you’ve been such a distraction.” You were gripping and pulling his hair now while grinding furiously against his crouch in a desperate attempt to feel some type of friction. “Bakugo-“

“Katsuki,” he corrected, “we’ve been past the formalities for a while now”

You blushed, you rarely call anyone by their first name but Bakugo could be the exception. Besides it’s not like he wasn’t fingering your pussy like a jackhammer on a public train 5 minutes ago, not like you were grinding on him like a desperate dog in heat right now...

“Suki,” you said hoping the cute pet name would be enough to grab his attention, you attempted to sound as desperate and needy as possible, “please make me cum already.” You pleaded while placing your hands on his shoulders. Makeup smudged from the tears and sweat, lipstick smeared on your chin from him covering it, clothes all ruined and your hair a mess, you already looked so fucked out, Bakugo just ate the sight up. He had his hands gripping the side of your hips caressing them. You leaned in wanting a kiss until he quickly gripped your face squeezing your cheeks together preventing it so. “On your knees baby.”

While still squeezing your face you slowly get off his lap on your knees in between his legs.

“Open your mouth and show me your tongue.” He released his tight grip but kept his hand in place, you opened your mouth and slowly stuck out your tongue. He gave a devious smirk, in which you saw something enlighten in his eyes. The bright red color seeming more mahogany now. He leans in lining his mouth above yours and spits on your tongue. He nods his head allowing you to swallow, which you complied easily to. You now waited patiently for his next orders, your full submissive side completely taking over, not like you have much of a choice anyways. Regardless, the desire to please him and the desperation from under is consuming your every thought and sensation.

“Go on slut, suck daddy’s cock.” He leans into the seat with his legs fully spread to you. You slowly unzip his pants with shaking hands allowing his dick to spring free. You nearly drooled at the sight wanting to taste him badly. He was completely erect, a huge vain running down the base of his cock, the tip already covered in precum looking swollen and red. You lean in his dick using your hands to pump him, you slowly bought the tip towards your mouth giving it small kitten like licks. As you began sucking the villain in front of you, he lets out small grunts and groans throughout. He eventually pulls your hair and shoves his dick entirely in your mouth forcing itself to hit the back of your throat. 10 seconds pass by and he hasn’t removed his hand, 11, 12… your eyes begin watering and you’re desperately attempting to get fresh air. You begin pulling away only for Katsuki to laugh and hold you down tighter. “Aha’ha choking on my dick detective? Such a cock hungry whore… this outa teach you a lesson, maybe I’ll get some hand cuffs late-later on and treat you like you really deserve, yea-yeah. That sounds soo good.”

While Bakugo goes back and forth with himself, you begin getting red faced and losing consciousness he pulls your hair up forcing you off and you while you take this opportunity to weed in gaps of air desperately and choking, he quickly shoves himself back inside your mouth. This time he moved your head in up/down motions, you attempted your best to slurp and suck with minimal oxygen entering your system, but it was proven to be very difficult, luckily enough you notice the villain becoming slower and sloppier with his movements. You brought yourself to deep throat his cock once more until the warm liquid has finally entered your mouth. The taste sour and sticky inside, this is what sin must taste like you thought.

As on cue, the metro did a halt and you instantly recognized the location. You gave a side eye to the villain next to you who also knew this was the stop to your neighborhood. He self confidently got up and immediately zipped his pants. He took off the hoodie he wore only leaving the black tank top underneath and shoved it over your head. The hoodie was long enough to cover your whole body and you were thankful since your current garments were in shreds across the floor. It also smelled strangely sweet, odd, like burnt caramel? Maybe the lack of oxygen is making you slightly delusional? You assumed, well hoped- this is where you would go separate ways with the villain. Have this memory go to the grave with you and forget it ever happened. But to your lovely surprise he picks you up bridal style and carries you out the metro. You looked at him questioningly, the feeling of dread looming over and suddenly becoming overwhelming just waiting for his response. He simply smirked.

“You’re clocking in overtime tonight detective.”

#mha smut #bakugou x reader smut #yandere katsuki #bakugo x reader smut #bnha imagines #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #villain bakugou #dark theme #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #alpha katsuki #mha fanfiction

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mirakeul · 2 years

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boo! bitch i'm a ghost 👻 [act 2]

♡⃕ 9 ; i can't fall in love with you any more than i already am, idiot

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— ten years after, y/n l/n is finally returning to japan. and ten years after midoriya izuku ghosted her. uraraka is guilty, bakugou is expectant, and well, their friends are just waiting for the awkwardness to subside. will there ever be a chance for the two?

♡⃕ chapter warnings — cursing...awkward moments KLAJSDLSAJDKL uhhhh izuku doesn't know when to shut up, mentions of kidnapping

♡⃕ author’s note — hello i am back omg KUHSDKJAHKAHJ IM SORRY FOR SUDDENLY NOT UPDATING <///3 i literally cannot huhuhu but now i am so HASHASHDHA let me know what you think !

♡⃕ fun fact — uhhhh,,,, the end just kinda happened lol HASDHSADHDSHHA and midoriya, well,,, it also just did JKADSKJAS i can't say much w/o spoiling so im sorry KAHDSKJADD

♡⃕ taglist. OPEN ; send an ask or reply to this post to be added! [bold cannot be tagged] @tsumushima @zoppzoop @lumpiang-toge @yumeyooa @starlessnyx @ugh-tsumu @mellowknightcolorfarm @oikawasbuttcheeks @shotoful @aizameow

taglist continued in the reblogs!

the elevator ride to the 20th floor was quiet, save for the whirring of the elevator machinery. you looked straight after texting hela, not wanting to look at the figure beside you. you thought it would be a quiet ordeal and you would both be on your own ways, but then again, why would it be too easy?

"uh, hi, y/n,"

you rolled your eyes and attempted to calm yourself. "hello."

"so, you're really back." midoriya was subtly looking at you, noting the changes that happened the past ten years. he understood that it must be awkward, given how you both left things before graduation and before you left…well.

"yes,"

he internally cringed but his mouth didn't know when to stop. "how are you?"

"well, considering that i just got back and i already ran into you, i must be hated by the gods." you looked at him, for the first time ever, and smiled, looking a bit forced.

"i'm sor–,"

"you know what, midoriya," he tried not to flinch at the venom from your voice. "i am not here for whatever this is. i don't want to talk about what happened before and i sure don't want to talk to you. we're here for a case, nothing more. i suggest we stay as we are, colleagues."

and with that, the elevator dinged. you exited the elevator fast, knowing midoriya is just right behind you. you didn't acknowledge hela's looks as you greeted kaminari and shinsou, as well as monoma and kuroiro before settling beside hela.

"is that?" she said, pointing a look towards midoriya who's seated by shinsou.

"yeah," you simply nodded, knowing your past with a certain green-haired boy in japan.

before hela could continue, every hero straightened up when detective naomasa and your former teacher, underground hero: eraserhead or aizawa shouta, strode in.

"good day to everyone here," detective naomasa said, smiling at everyone. "and of course, welcome back to two of our heroes from dynamight's agency, hela and kayami."

you and hela thanked him and the others as they applauded. "okay, settle down, we know you missed each other, but we got business."

"right. thank you, eraser." detective naomasa distributed the case files to each pro. you leafed through the pages as the detective started the briefing. "as you all can see on those files, there have been reported cases of missing people, but what's unusual was their reappearance a few days after, acting completely different like they weren't missing at all."

"we believe this is the work of mimic, a villain registered to have a quirk that allows them to mimic people, creating identical copies of life forms with the memories of the victims. its quirk's drawbacks, however, is that the copies could only retain a week's memories."

"in each of your folders are copies of your patrol areas and your assigned routes. we need to keep an eye on mimic and apprehend them. they say as long as their victims are alive, still, then their copies remain to be. so far, we haven't heard from the victims' families, but every minute that mimic isn't captured is another minute away from saving their victims."

your eyes narrowed in on the limited information on mimic. you were partnered with shinsou, shooting him a smile which he returned. hela groaned next to you, showing you that she got partnered midoriya.

the briefing ended after aizawa and naomasa explained some of the few intricate details in the case. you were walking with hela and kaminari before being stopped by aizawa, so you hung back for a while to catch up with your former teacher.

"welcome back, kid." he said, patting your shoulder.

"hey, mr. aizawa, how's eri?"

"the kid's been asking for you ever since hitoshi told her you were coming home." he smiled a bit, a pointed look on his face. "and it's aizawa, i'm not your teacher anymore."

"aizawa," you said, teasing. "how's mic?"

"he missed you too and was pestering me and hitoshi to ask you to come eat with us to dinner."

"dad, you know i was gonna ask her, right?" shinso walked towards you two, smiling at you before opening his arms. you hugged him, settling for a moment before pulling away.

"hey, toshi," you said, kissing his cheek, one gesture you never got out of when you two dated. aizawa looked at the two of you, his eyes narrowing. "and yes, i'll come over for dinner, sometime. but not tonight, maybe this weekend? i'm gonna show eri a few choices for my dress to our reunion next week."

you looked at the time and some of hela's texts. "i'm afraid i need to leave. the gang and i are going out tonight. goodbye, aizawa. i'd bring you some coffee on the weekend." you hugged aizawa as he patted your back.

"that's why you're my favorite," he grinned, releasing you from the embrace.

"i am offended, your actual son, and i'm not the favorite." shinso jokingly said, before hugging you once more. "i'll see you again on the weekend, y/n."

"bye, toshi. it's great seeing you," you smiled. "even if we saw each other a few days back."

you left, waving to the two who followed your leaving figure. aizawa looked at his son and said, "so, y/n?"

"yeah, no, i'm not talking to you about her."

they didn't notice midoriya's figure as they left. midoriya was confused, he knew you and shinso were close, but close enough for that kind of PDA in front of aizawa…well, he guessed he didn't really know.

you, on the other hand, were now in a bar with your friends. even bakugou came, which is a surprise because he doesn't ever join their hangouts for the past few years, unless you convince him. but, then he would spend the whole entire time grunting and muttering curses under his breath, and that's no fun.

"wait, midoriya's on a case with you?" sero said, looking incredulously at bakugou who suddenly glared at the glass like it had done him wrong.

"yeah," you said, drinking. "it's fine, i don't think we'll be interacting much, i'm partnered with hitoshi for the patrols. at most, we'll just see during reports."

"yeah, don't forget the clusterfuck earlier," hela said, laughing. "didn't you notice the two eyes hellbent on looking at you?"

"huh?"

"shinsou and midoriya," she said, ignoring a seething bakugou by your side.

you laughed. "yes, well, i don't really care. i just want to catch mimic and be done with it."

"you know what," you stood up after drinking some more. "i'm going to go dancing, let's go, hela."

you both stood up, dancing instantly with each other. bakugou's eyes followed you, making the ones left with him at the table look at each other.

"dude, you're really not that subtle." kirishima said, grinning. bakugou snarled at him. "chill, bro."

"fuck you,"

"you wish it's y/n," kaminari smugly said.

"you know what, fuc–,"

"uh, bakubro, i think you need to get y/n now."

bakugou looked at you, who's now fighting with another person at the dance floor. he cursed under his breath before going to you, pulling you away from the other person, hela right at your heels.

"what the hell are you doing?" he said, holding your shoulders firmly. hela was now sitting beside mina as they talked about what happened. "you know better than to fight in a bar."

"yeah, well, that bastard touched us when we said no,"

"what?" there was a murderous rage in bakugou's eyes, making you drop your jaw as you tried to stop him from actually murdering someone.

"kats, you need to calm down!"

"no, fucking asshole, i'm going to kill him."

"kats, no, don't! i already punched that asshole, let's just go." you held his hand, turning to your friends. "i'm sorry, guys, we'll just go, i think i'm done for the night."

"i'll come with you," hela said and attempted to stand, but you stopped her.

"it's fine, i know you wanted to stay," you pointedly looked at her and mina. "i'm pretty sure katsuki's tired, we'll just go before he explodes."

bakugou grunted beside you, but didn't protest. and since he's much more sober, he got your keys and tossed it to hela, before getting his own and pulling you into his car. he gently buckled on your seatbelt before going around and settling on the driver's seat. the drive home was quiet, save for some few mutters from you as you drunkenly teased him.

"we're here, let's go." bakugou helped you get out of the car. you grinned at him, throwing yourself all over him and then, shouting 'catch'. "you could literally walk, y/n."

you moaned begrudgingly. "well, i don't wanna!"

bakugou rolled his eyes before helping you to your apartment. he tried not to think about how close you were to him, his skin hot from where he was holding you. he opened your bedroom door and hauled your ass in, helping you to your bed. he opened your closet, getting you a change of clothes before he got a few towels for you.

"y/n, get up." he said, no bark in his voice. "you need to change your clothes, dumbass."

"no," you said, pronouncing the 'o' longer.

bakugou looked at you, tired. he sighed, pulling you up before helping you with your clothes. closing his eyes, he helped you dress into more casual clothing. you watched him as he helped you, a dopey smile on your face.

"thank you, kats." he looked at you pointedly as he helped you wipe yourself down with a towel.

"'s not a problem," he stiffened when he felt your lips on his cheek. well, fuck. he looked at you but you already passed out. he sighed, helping you be more comfortable in bed. "fucking dumbass. you need to stop doing things like that, i can't fall in love with you any more than i already am, idiot."

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid.

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail.

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them.

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match.

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one.

The newest addition to the list is her.

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible.

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him.

A trillion. At least.

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him.

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening.

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior.

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book.

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach.

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him.

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it.

And probably because she just said it to me right now.

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence.

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity.

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.”

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels.

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.”

That surely kept us apart.

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that.

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work.

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age.

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.”

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?”

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me.

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too.

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me.

What was going on?

What is going on?

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with.

“What do you think about me dating again?”

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue.

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is.

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch.

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that?

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought.

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish.

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.”

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.”

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine.

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?”

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …”

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag.

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one.

Red.

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice.

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect.

_ _ _

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes.

That story for later? This is the one.

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do.

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really.

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates.

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down.

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word.

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.”

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered.

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.”

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise.

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well.

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand.

If he kissed me.

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here.

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe.

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting.

I don’t wanna seem the way I do

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all.

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way.

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half.

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress.

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes.

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner.

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently.

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance.

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go.

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that.

But I’m confident when I’m with you

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained.

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it.

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke.

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable.

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me.

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again.

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.”

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said.

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.”

_ _ _

“In what way?”

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer.

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated.

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet.

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him.

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?”

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.”

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed.

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.”

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was.

“How am I wrong?”

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?”

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.”

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own.

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger.

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice.

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine.

_ _ _

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission.

I was the first.

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him.

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t.

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line.

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face.

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.”

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!”

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day.

_ _ _

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter.

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility.

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg.

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things.

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?”

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.”

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me.

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else.

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered.

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite.

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #juniorgman187 #be forever young

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myriadimagines · 3 years

Text

Chips and Orange Soda (part ii)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Jake Peralta

Other Characters: Amy Santiago

Warnings: theft, threats of violence

Summary: When a series of bodegas are robbed, Holt assigns Jake and Rosa on the case. You, a cashier, become a suspect, but Jake has a gut feeling that you’re not a suspect at all. In fact, he thinks you’re the key to solving the case.

Part One: Chips and Orange Soda

Word Count: 2,319

A/N: the second part to my submission for @locke-writes‘ writing challenge!! admittedly it gets kind of into an ethical dilemma that i didnt mean to go into and that’s unnecessarily deep but you’ll see what i mean ajskdhas but anyway disclaimer again!! not in law enforcement!!! this is not accurate when it comes to crimes!!! i really hope the reveal/ending isn’t too disappointing and that u guys still enjoyed the story!!! it does get a little more serious in this part but i still hope it’s in character/tone with the show!!

reblog/feedback/comments are very much appreciated!!!

Jake is careful to open up the door of the bodega, which is all bordered up with tape as the shattered glass has yet to be replaced. The inside looks better at least, no longer sectioned off with police tape, and business seems to be going on as usual, with customers in between the aisles and some at the counter. Jake resists the urge to grab a snack for himself, and he glances around the room, frowning as he realises there’s no sight of you.

Jake finally approaches a young man manning the cash register. “Hey man, is y/n in?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry dude, they don’t work Tuesdays.”

Jake smacks the side of his head, remembering how you mentioned it to him. He moves to exit the store when he notices the live security footage playing on the screen behind the counter. Pointing it out, Jake says, “Hey, looks like you got your cameras working again.”

The man looks over his shoulder, before turning back to Jake with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

Jake frowns slightly, his hand falling to his side. “y/n told me that your cameras were down last week.”

The man remains confused, staring at Jake as if he’s speaking another language. Slowly, he finally responds, “Nah, they’ve been working fine. I don’t know what y/n’s talking about.”

Something inside of Jake’s stomach twists, and he frowns. Despite how hard he’s been trying to defend you, he can’t help but admit to himself that you’re not making it easy. He digs through his pockets, pulling out an old receipt, and he grins to himself as he flips it over and finds your number on the other side. Pulling out his phone, he cringes slightly at his 6% battery level, and he hopes he has enough to make a call.

Dialling in your number, he raises the phone to his ear. It rings a few times before someone finally picks up the phone. Taking in a deep breath, Jake says, “y/n? It’s Jake, the detective from last week. We… we need to talk.”

—

Jake paces around the briefing room, shaking his head as he tries to piece everything together. After coming back to the precinct following his failed attempt to find you at the bodega, Jake had filled up a corkboard with pictures and other small pieces of evidence he and Rosa were able to gather, although it was looking rather sparse. Your lie about the security cameras definitely presents as an obstacle, but he tries not to think the worst of it. He hasn’t told Rosa yet, who had gone out to meet with the forensics team again, fearing what her reaction would be towards you. Maybe you were mistaken, maybe the robbers managed to figure out a way to wipe the footage. But something about the situation doesn’t sit right with Jake, and he lets out a defeated sigh.

“Hey, Jake,” Amy peeks her head inside, knocking at the door, and Jake looks up. She gestures back to the bullpen as she continues, “You’ve got someone here to see you. Sounds like they’ve got some information on the bodega robberies.”

Jake perks up, rushing past Amy out of the room. His eyes widen as he sees you linger by his desk, nervously glancing around the room. He nods as a thank you to Amy before making his way over to you, and he greets, “Hey, y/n, thanks for coming in. How have you been doing?”

You meet Jake’s gaze, and you can’t help but soften at his tone. He seems to genuinely care, and you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Nodding, you reassure him, “I’m okay. I’m… I’m glad you reached out, actually. There are some things that I need to tell you about. Can we go for a walk?”

Jake hesitates. He knows that he should probably bring you to the interrogation room instead, but he finds himself nodding. He grabs his leather jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and he nods towards the elevator as he remarks, “Sure. Let’s go.”

—

You and Jake make your way through the streets of Brooklyn, finding yourself at a nearby local park. You can’t help but smile at the sight of children running around, squealing at one another as they chase each other in some sort of game, but you can’t ignore the pit in your stomach, the gnawing guilt that has plagued you ever since your first interaction with Jake.

You finally happen upon an empty bench in a quiet corner of the park and you silently take a seat. Jake sits beside you, and your breath begins to tremble. Jake patiently waits for you, eyes wide with concern as he finds himself shifting closer to you, subconsciously wanting to comfort you despite not knowing what’s to come.

“I… I haven’t told you everything that I know about the bodega.” you finally confess, and Jake takes in a deep breath. He nods slowly, silently urging you to continue, and you look up to meet his gaze as you continue, “I know who did it. And the other robberies, too.”

Jake stares at you, and you can tell it’s clearly a lot of information to take in. He presses his lips together, trying to process all this, before he quietly asks, “You’re trying to protect someone, aren’t you?”

Your expression crumples, and your shoulders slump as you bury your face in your hands. You swore to yourself you wouldn’t cry, but as the overwhelming reality of the situation begins to sink in, you’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Jake’s expression falls, and despite knowing that the two of you are practically strangers, he wraps an arm around you, gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm as he tries to soothe you.

“It feels like I’ve been trying to protect him all my life, but I- I feel like I can’t, anymore.” you manage to say through sobs, and Jake frowns, eyebrows furrowing in concern. Gulping, you finally reveal, “My brother.”

Jake sucks in a sharp breath. He’s all too familiar himself with broken homes, with strained familial relationships. You’re almost afraid to look at him, but Jake’s expression is one of understanding, of sympathy. He gently reassures you, “Take all the time you need, alright?”

You nod, trying to compose yourself the best you can. You fold your hands into your lap, perhaps a poor attempt at stopping them from shaking, and you manage to hold your tears back long enough for you to begin explaining, “It was always just me and my brother, you know? My single mom had to raise us, but we barely saw her because she was always working. But my brother and I always had each other’s backs, and I thought it would be that way forever.”

You’re distracted as a pair of kids dart past you, and Jake notices the bittersweet smile that appears on your face as you watch them. Quietly, he prompts, “When did you feel like things started to go wrong?”

“I mean, my brother was always a rowdy kid, always getting into trouble, but it just kept getting worse and worse. I’d try to bail him out, but there was only so much I could do.” you continue. “As we got older, I started seeing him less and less. He’d show up whenever he needed help, but that was it. Until he showed up the night before the bodega robbery.”

“He came to see you?” Jake’s eyes widen in alarm, and you nod. You can feel a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach as you think back to that night, and you uneasily run your hands through your hair.

“I didn’t know he had robbed those other bodegas. But he came around asking for me to let him and his friend in, basically. Asked me for the key. I told him no, that I could just lend him money, and he… he got angry.” your voice shakes slightly as you stare off at some point in the distance. “We’ve had our fights, obviously, but this was different. I was almost scared of him.”

You screw your eyes shut as you remember seeing the smashed in front door, the fear swallowing you whole as you worried what might happen next. Jake doesn’t try to prompt you further, knowing how difficult this must be for you, and he lets out a soft sigh as he wishes that you didn’t have to go through such a thing.

“I don’t want him to go to jail. I just want him to be okay.” you can feel your words getting caught in your throat as you struggle to continue speaking. “But he doesn’t even feel like my brother anymore. That night was just… I- I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“What about the cameras?” Jake quietly asks.

“That was me.” you sigh, nervously wringing your hands together. “I couldn’t sleep that night, so eventually, I… I just got up and went to see if he had really done it. Part of me still had hope that maybe he didn’t. When I saw the door broken in it just… crushed me. I almost feel like he did it on purpose, to scare me. But I still wanted to protect him, so I… I went in to delete the security footage, and rushed out before anyone could see me.”

Jake leans back onto the bench. This is it, he realises. With your revelations, it seems as though the case is solved. But seeing the heartbreak on your face doesn’t make the solved case as satisfying as it usually is.

“I just feel like I’ve failed him.” your shoulders slump, your voice barely audible. “He’s my family I have, and I just… I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“Hey, you didn’t fail him, y/n,” Jake gently insists, and to your surprise, he reaches out to take your hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’ve been an awesome sibling, better than he deserves, really. But he chose to do this, and that’s not on you.”

You nod, trying your best to believe him, and from the earnest expression on Jake’s face, you feel like you could. You manage to muster up a smile, and Jake smiles back at you. Nodding back in the direction of the precinct, Jake tells you, “I do need you to need you to come back to the precinct to make a statement. But you’ve really helped us, y/n, and you did the right thing.”

A part of you has doubts, but you try your best to take comfort in Jake’s words. Jake gets to his feet, and you stand up with him, and Jake offers you a small smile that reassures you that everything will be okay.

—

You bump the cash machine closed with your elbow as you count out some change. Sliding it over to the customer alongside their bag of snacks, you politely smile at them before they step aside to leave. You wave the next customer in line forward, only to realise it’s Jake standing before you, and your eyes widen as he offers you a sheepish grin. He steps up to the counter, placing down a bag of chips and a bottle of orange soda, and you exchange a knowing smile as you lean forward, “Hey, Jake. Did… did everything go alright?”

“We got him and his buddy.” Jake confirms, and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “They tried to give us the slip, but I chased after them.”

You narrow your eyes slightly, and Jake quickly corrects himself, “Okay, Rosa chased after them, but that doesn’t matter.”

You laugh, and Jake snorts with you before continuing, “There’ll be a trial, obviously. I’ll give you more updates when I hear them.”

You nod, before sliding Jake’s stuff back to him. You don’t even bother ringing his purchase up as you tell him, “It’s on the house.”

“What? No.” Jake hurriedly searches through his pockets for some change. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s the least I can do.” you insist. Jake offers you some cash, but you shake your head. “Seriously, Jake, thank you, for everything.”

You reach out, closing Jake’s hand, and your gaze lingers on one another as your hand remains on his. He smiles, and Jake feels like his heart might beat out of his chest as you smile back at him. Before he can stop himself, he blurts, “Do you want to get dinner with me sometime?”

You blink at him in surprise, and Jake winces as he worries he might’ve blown it. Stammering, he continues, “It’s, uh, my way of saying thank you. For helping us solve the case. And for the snacks.”

Jake watches as a smile spreads across your face, and you chew on your lip as if trying to contain your happiness. “Is this a date?”

Jake grins at you. “It can be.”

“Just tell me when and where.” you nod excitedly, and Jake beams at you. “I’d love to go out with you, Jake.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jake claps his hands together. He scoops up his snacks, backing away as he continues, “Hey, I’ve got to run back to the precinct, but I’ll text you, okay?”

“Got it.” you nod, grinning from ear to ear. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch Jake clumsily try to open the door, but he stops himself.

“Oh! By the way,” Jake spins around on his heel. “Do you guys sell batteries?”

“Um,” you glance over your shoulder at the inventory behind you. “We’ve got some. What kind do you need?”

“It’s for a clock.” Jake sighs, and you raise an eyebrow at his reaction. “It’s… a long story.”

tag list: @myfriendmagislit / @thedamagedcne / @real-fbi / @writinqss / @thisismysecrethappyplace / @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov / @dontjudgemepeepswrites / @hauntedpocdreamer / @locke-writes / @lgbtonystarks / @fangirlsarah16 / @kittensanddarkclouds / @randomfandomimagine / @ofthedewthesunlight / @bravelittlesunflower / @gothicwidowsworld / @halfofwhatisayismeaningless / @amirahiddleston / @interwebseriesfan24

#reader x jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #b99 imagine #b99 #b99 one shot #jake peralta #jake peralta one shot #imagine #imagines #reader insert #oneshot #one shot

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shadyteacup · 3 years

Text

Ranpo x gn! Reader

Fluff

Requested by ⚔anon! :D

I Don't Need a Love Letter

"Y/N san.. how are you?"

Ranpo greeted you as you walked in the ADA'S office.

"Good morning Ranpo san! I'm good, what about you?"

You walked over to your cabin, smiling at the detective, and placing your bags on the chair.

"I'm amazing, as always!"

Ranpo replied. He was a smart man, he knew that you liked him. He also knew that he liked you. But he had no idea of how to proceed with this information. He had to act on it. But how? You didn't know that he liked you back, which is why you never took the first steps. This left the task on his shoulders. He tried making small talk with you everyday, trying to find a reason to talk to you. But you never noticed any ulterior motives behind his chats.

"Y/N chan! I didn't see you come in!"

Dazai said, walking towards you.

You smiled at him, waving.

"Hey, Dazai. Is it just me, or did you actually come on time today?!"

He laughed at your jab, and continued chatting with you. He was capable of bringing a smile to your face, and he did it it so effortlessly. Ranpo was jealous of his skills. He could make you laugh too, but the fact that someone else could do it, irked him.

He cleared his throat after a while, trying to gain your attention.

"Dazai, Y/N, can you both keep it down? You're bothering the others."

You frowned.

"Oh, are we? I'm so sorry!"

Dazai saw right through Ranpo's little attempt to get you both away from each other.

'Good,' he thought,' the plan's working out well.'

He snaked an arm around your shoulders, guiding you towards the door.

"Where are we going?"

You asked him.

"Outside! That way, we can catch up all we want, without disturbing anyone!"

"We literally met a few hours ago."

"But we still have so much to share, don't we?"

Dazai paused for a second to glance back at Ranpo, and gave him a devilish smirk.

Ranpo glared daggers at him. He was furious.

'Oh, he didn't just do that'

Ranpo thought.

He was fuming. So it was a competition afterall. Dazai wants to take you away from Ranpo! No way in hell is he going to allow that!

Ranpo could hear the sound of your giggles and laughter from the corridor. He decided it was enough. He had had enough of beating around the bush. He had to confess before you fell out of love.

...

You finally came home after a tiring day at work. It had been quite a day. You solved two cases today. It was exhausting, but thanks to your assigned partner for the day, sweet little atsushi, it wasn't boring. You enjoyed spending your time with the little darling.

The paperwork was hell. To top it off, the news that Dazai had given you was making you nervous.

You decided to take a shower, dropping your bags on the counter and heading towards your room, when the doorbell rang.

You jogged up to the door, peeking through the eye hole.

A familiar ravennet was standing outside, dressed in casual attire.

You opened the door, a surprised look on your face.

"Ranpo san?"

He smiled nervously, observing your face for any clues about your mood. He could spot surprise and anxiety, but nothing that screamed 'get out'.

"Hi, Y/N. Can I come in?"

Was it just you, or did he address you using your first name and absolutely no honorific?

"Oh, yeah, sure."

He entered the lounge, and with your permission sat on the couch. You sat opposite to him.

He reached inside his jacket, pulling out an envelope from his pocket. Handing it to you, he scratched his head .

"I have prepared this for you. I don't know how to write and express... feelings... so I asked my friend, Poe, to compose this letter. I told him exactly what I felt, and wanted to say to you, and so he formatted it and wrote it down for me."

You accepted the letter, and were about to open it, when he stopped you.

"Can you open it when I'm not around? It'll only make me more nervous. "

"What is it about?"

"It's all in there."

He turned, heading to the door.

"Edogawa san, wait."

His eyes widened at the use of his first name, and he halted at the door, turning to look back at you with a blush on his face.

"I like you too."

He didn't have time to react when you strode over to him and hugged him.

He hugged you back a second later.

"How did you.. It was Dazai, wasn't it. I knew he wasn't trying to woo you. I had a feeling he was only trying to fuel my anger..."

You grinned at him.

"Yeah. He told me today that you liked me, and that you might give me a letter."

Ranpo shook his head in disbelief.

"No wonder you seemed nervous!"

You giggled, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"So... is it Edogawa san now? Or do you want me to call you Ranpo?"

"I prefer 'baby', but Edogawa should do for the time being!"

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sirenascales · 3 years

Text

-> double black [part three] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A man is murdered and things get interesting as the investigation starts. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

2,981 words

note: no smut in this one hehe, but things are gonna get fun. enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

"Hey... are you okay?" Kenji asked me a few days later, noticing the scowl on my face and realizing that I had been tapping my nail on my desk repeatedly for the last fifteen minutes. "You seem... pissed?"

I grunted, closing my eyes and slowly taking a deep breath. "I'm okay, Kenji. Just having a bad day." The others shared looks with each other, but chose not to pry. The frown on my face never left, my fists clenched as my blood continued to boil.

Then that all went away, when I felt a gentle hand against the back of my neck. I looked over at Dazai, who had lazily rolled himself in his chair over to me. He grinned. "I could see the steam coming from your ears!"

His hand never left my neck, moving until his fingers loosely wrapped around the column of my throat. Strangely enough, my anger had completely gone away when he touched me, and it felt nice to finally breathe. "With the day I'm having..." I sighed, the whole world seemingly melting away, Dazai's thumb stroking along my jaw.

Kunikida was clearly unimpressed, the man gritting his teeth. Atsushi looked shocked, his face tinged red while Ranpo and Kenji just touched their own necks gently.

"Does she like to get choked?"

"Who knows, man."

"Hey, I know what will make you feel better," Dazai suggested and I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue. He leaned in and would have kissed me if it weren't for a book smacking right into the side of Dazai's head.

"Do that on your own time! We have a schedule!" Kunikida fumed while I quickly turned around to cover my face, simply to muffle down my obnoxious laughter.

"Oh, dude!"

"Kunikida! What was that for!"

"Public indecency!"

Dazai rubbed his head, whining from the pain while I just giggled behind my hands. Dazai almost looked betrayed at me laughing at him and I just shrugged my shoulders. "Hey, that's what you get for trying to play grab ass."

I purposely ignored Dazai's pouty face for the rest of the day, the man clearly upset that he didn't get to kiss me. I shook my head, glaring at him from across the office while threateningly pointing my pen at him.

"Work, dammit."

"I don't wanna! Bella, don't be so mean!"

I fixed him another glare before going back to my work, finishing up the final report for the last case we were on. After going through and making sure it was perfect, I saved and emailed it to the President, just as the door to the office slammed opened.

"He's gone!"

"Keiko?! What the he- Keiko, what's wrong?"

I stood up from my desk, my best friend standing before me in a frazzled state. She looked extremely distressed, tears falling down her face. I rushed to her, the woman collapsing into my arms as we both fell to our knees.

"He's gone!" she exclaimed before she started to sob into my chest. "He's gone! He's gone! He's gone!"

"Keiko..." I looked up at the others with wide eyes, them looking on with alarm. I turned back to Keiko, rubbing on her back as she continued to sob.

Taichi was killed. He was found in an alleyway with multiple stab wounds. Keiko had received a call from the police after his identity was discovered, the detectives revealing the tragic news to her.

"I'm so sorry, Keiko..." I said to her softly, sitting with her in one of the small areas of the office, separated by simple dividers. "... how the hell did this happen? We just saw him last night when he dropped you off at my place..."

Keiko had finished crying, but the terrible sadness in her eyes was a clear indication of how devastated she was. I clenched my fists, feeling my anger from earlier building up again.

"I'm going to have to make my statement," Keiko said softly, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Do you want me to go with you to the station?" I asked and she shook her head.

"No... it's okay..."

"The thing is, you are also one of the last people to see him alive," Kunikida spoke up, standing by with Dazai and Atsushi. "You'll have to give your account too..."

Sighing deeply, I absentmindedly reached under my skirt, pausing when I didn't feel my knife against my thigh where it usually was. I gritted my teeth, shaking my head to myself before I went back to rubbing on Keiko's back in an attempt to comfort her.

Soon, Keiko and I left the Agency and headed on over to the police station. We gave our accounts of the night before when we last saw Taichi, us talking separately with a different agent.

"Now you know, Mr. Kamiya was in the Port Mafia," the agent said and I nodded. "And they have quite a bit of history with your little organization."

I didn't like the condescending tone in his voice, but I kept my cool. "Of course, but none of us have anything to do with this man's murder, and you have no evidence proving otherwise."

He just rolled his eyes at me. "Well, this is all we need. You're free to go."

I nodded before quietly making my way out of the interview room. I met with Keiko, who looked like she had been crying again and I pulled her into a comforting hug. "It's okay. This will be over soon."

Later on, I found myself back at the Agency, Keiko choosing to go home, despite my protests. My head was buried in my arms, not moving as I felt someone put their hand on my head, lightly scratching my scalp.

"Looks like the police will keep on investigating Taichi's murder," Dazai said and I peeked one eye out to find him leaning against my desk. "Thing is, I'm sure the Port Mafia will also be conducting their own investigation. Ohh, this is gonna get interesting~"

"So is it better if we stay out of this, then?" I asked, sitting up in my chair. "I mean, unless we're asked... we don't have to touch this."

Dazai regarded me for a moment, a mysterious smile growing on his face before he just threw his hands up nonchalantly. "I get it, you were friends with the guy."

"Not really," I corrected him immediately. "Keiko is my friend."

"Ohhhhh," Dazai just hummed, tapping his forefinger on his chin. "Well anywho, the police are gonna have their hands full if the Port Mafia really gets involved! It wouldn't hurt to help, right?"

I hesitated, a small smile soon growing on my face as I nodded. "Sure. Let's start tomorrow."

"How about tonight instead?!" Dazai asked with a cheerful smile while I just glared at him angrily, the two of us now standing in the middle of the crime scene.

"Why do I even bother believing a word you say?" I hissed at him, attempting to kick the man but he quickly side stepped me. I gritted my teeth. "Ugh, plus it's already dark, Dazai. It's gonna be harder to find any evidence." Indeed, the only light we were getting was from the full moon up ahead, and the shitty lights above the side door of one of the buildings. "Are we even allowed to be here?"

Dazai simply nodded his head. "Of course, we were assigned to this case, afterall."

"... you told me the police were keeping it," I said, eyebrows twitching in annoyance. Was he serious?!

Dazai just smiled and threw his hands up. "Guess I was mistaken," he hummed and I sighed deeply, rubbing my temples.

"Okay so... what now?" I asked, finally looking around the crime scene. It was obviously taped off and Taichi's body was removed. All there was left was a giant stain of blood, which I now looked at with a worried face.

"Just by the nature of the crime alone, we can easily say it was a crime of passion. If this was a local gang or rival, he would have been shot, or even jumped and beaten to death. Official word is, he was stabbed over sixty times," Dazai explained, standing beside me and staring at the blood. "There is no sign of the murder weapon, no other physical evidence besides Taichi's dead body and blood. We'll have to wait for forensics to give us their final word, but I can tell... this might not be so easy to crack."

I nodded solemnly, my fists clenched tightly.

"Or... will it?"

I took in a deep breath before turning and sending Dazai a sheepish smile. "Well, we got our work cut out for us, huh."

Dazai chuckled softly. "Yeah, but that's what makes it fun."

"So Dazai," I started, crossing my arms over my chest. "I have a question."

"I may have an answer."

"Have you ever killed anyone before?"

Silence followed after my question and I turned to look at the man. His hands were in his pockets, a weird smile on his face. "I have. Quite a few."

For some reason, the answer didn't shock me as much as it probably should. "How do you sleep at night?"

More silence, before Dazai stood before me. I looked up at him, heart thudding when I saw that same dim look in his eyes. His lips curled up and he leaned in, making me hold my breath as he whispered.

"Like a baby."

My breath hitched in my throat, eyes going wide. I licked my lips nervously, nodding my head slowly. "I see..." Just... wow.

"You know, I could have gone without seeing your ugly face, Dazai."

A look of distaste grew on Dazai's face as the newcomer came sauntering up to us. He wore black, a familiar hat resting upon a familiar head of red hair. Blue eyes stared daggers into my coworker, mouth curled into a displeased snarl.

"Ah, Chuuya! It is a small world, after all," Dazai sang, the glare in his eyes not meeting the jovial tone of his voice.

Chuuya scoffed. "I thought you'd be fucking dead by now, but of course, you always love to piss me off."

"'Cause it's so much fun!"

The two men clearly didn't like each other, but that was the least of my concerns. All I could do was stare at Chuuya in shock. Of course, Taichi was one of his subordinates, he would want to find out who his killer was and get retribution. That was just how the Port Mafia worked.

I gulped, carefully trying to back away from the two. They could stand there and bicker with each other all they want. I had to get out of here before-

"Oh wait, meet my new friend!" Dazai wrapped his arm around my neck, wrestling me to his side effortlessly as I tried to break free. He knew I was trying to escape and made sure that didn't happen.

"Hey, let me go!" I hissed, not pleased with being pulled into a damn chokehold.

"Not until you meet my old friend!"

Chuuya growled. "We're not friends, damn traitor!"

Traitor? I grew confused, eyebrows pinched even as I fought against Dazai's hold. Chuuya narrowed his eyes when he finally got a good look at me.

"Hey... do I know you?"

Crap. "Uh..." I laughed sheepishly, Dazai now confused as he looked back and forth between the two of us.

"You know each other?"

"W-well..."

"We met a few months ago," Chuuya spoke up, his eyes widening in realization before his eyes narrowed and he snarled. "Knew you couldn't be trusted."

"Wait!" I exclaimed, making it out of Dazai's hold and holding my hands up to Chuuya. "I swear... I didn't even know about the ADA when we met. It was just as I said that night, I lost my job and was there to drink my pain away."

"Tch," Chuuya sounded, his eyes still narrowed. "And now you work with this traitorous bastard. Lucky you."

There was that word again.

"What do you mean by traitor?" I asked, at the same time Dazai spoke up.

"How the hell do you two know each other?"

Chuuya scoffed. "I fucked her."

I squeaked, Dazai's eyebrows raising.

"Interesting. I'm fucking her too."

I squeaked again, waving my hands wildly before either man could respond. "D-don't we have a murder to solve, huh?!"

It fell on deaf ears, the two men staring each other down, all before their eyes were on me and my trembling form.

"You know... I feel like we've been here before, Chuuya."

Said man snorted. "When you fucked my girls?"

"Like you haven't fucked mine?"

Okay, now I was confused. "Um... I don't understand..."

"Oh yeah!" Dazai exclaimed a bit too cheerfully, putting a hand on Chuuya's shoulder, earning a withering glare. "Chuuya and I go way back. Were the best of friends."

"No we weren't."

"We were partners! The best there was!"

"... tch."

Partners? What the hell did Dazai mean by partners? I looked between the two men, lips formed in a thin line. Then, the answer struck and my mouth fell open in shock. There was no fucking way... Dazai? I swallowed thickly, shaking my head for this was not the time or place to be thinking about this.

"Okay... I can only imagine just how deep this shit goes," I started, the men looking at me curiously. "But we have a murder to solve. Whatever... this," I gestured my hand between the two of them. "Is... it can wait. Y'all can make out or whatever later."

That was my attempt at breaking whatever tension there was, but I was the only one cackling when Dazai and Chuuya immediately protested.

"I will kill you!"

"That is not funny, bella!"

"Ugggh, I don't have the time for this. I should have known that the ADA would be investigating this, and that just pisses me off. You two should just stay out of my way," Chuuya said, hands in his coat pocket. "Though you... word is that you were one of the lasts who saw Taichi alive."

My heart dropped when Chuuya looked at me and I frowned. "And I told the police that I saw him when he dropped Keiko off at my apartment. There are cameras in the lobby that will show that I never left the apartment. We even ordered food in."

"Fuck. And there is no other evidence right now. No weapon, no hints of DNA. It's like the killer just vanished," Chuuya said to himself and I glanced at Dazai, seeing the amused look on his face.

"What if it was an ability user?" Dazai suggested. Chuuya gritted his teeth.

"Shut up! I don't need your help!"

"Really? Are you sure?" Dazai taunted the red head, quickly ducking when Chuuya swung his foot in a wide kick. Dazai didn't get hit, but the wall behind him took the damage, large cracks forming on the surface. I swallowed thickly. Just how strong was Chuuya?

"H-hey," I started nervously, foolishly getting between the two men before they could start a fight. "We're after the same goal, right? Why don't we just... work together?" The fierce glares I got made me shrink. "O-o-or! Or not! That's fine! Just don't fight!"

"Bella is right... fighting is so beneath me," Dazai said wistfully and I sighed deeply.

"Dazai, I'm being serious. This man was my best friend's boyfriend. I want to find his killer too."

"Just stay out of it," Chuuya growled. "This has nothing to do with either of you. The Port Mafia will handle this."

"Let's make it a race then." Both Chuuya and I were dumbfounded as we looked at Dazai, waiting for him to continue. "A competition to see who figures this out, the ADA or the Port Mafia."

"Dazai... what the hell?" I asked in disbelief, Chuuya stepped closer to him.

"What's the prize?"

Dazai smirked, raising a bandaged hand and pointing right to me. "Our bella."

My jaw dropped. "You're fucking kidding me?"

"No," Dazai answered rather seriously. "I'm not."

Chuuya is strangely quiet, his unreadable eyes now trained on me. I fidgeted under his gaze, looking away to find Dazai staring at me all the same. I shivered. I hated this; hated being part of such a stupid competition as a prize, and I hated that I fucking loved it. I screwed my eyes shut.

"Deal," Chuuya finally said and I gasped when I felt his familiar leather clad fingers cup my face, him moving my head to make me look at him. "Gotta say, I didn't expect to see you again, but I'm glad our paths have crossed a second time." I became extremely flustered and Chuuya smirked. "Tell me, Dazai. What was it like having my sloppy seconds?"

I gasped sharply with Dazai only laughing darkly, suddenly feeling his presence behind me. "Can't say it was too bad..." he answered and I just completely clocked out, breath hitching as I felt a bit embarrassed. And turned on. They knew exactly what to say to get me riled up.

"Okay, I'm leaving! It's late and I still haven't eaten dinner yet! Bye!" I was frantic trying to rush away from them as fast as I could. I didn't even turn back when Dazai called after me.

"See you tomorrow, bella!" Dazai chuckled softly, watching me disappear, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"A race? Really?" Chuuya asked incredulously, eyes piercing as he stared at his old partner.

"It will just make this all the more fun," Dazai hummed.

"You're a bastard," Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Just stay out of my way. Taichi getting himself killed just ruined the investigation we had on him."

"Oh?" Dazai raised his eyebrows, amused. "Was he being a naughty boy?"

"Shut the fuck up, Dazai."

-End

I have this headcanon that Dazai and Chuuya definitely stole each other's girls and even shared them and had threesomes when they were partners and ya'll CANNOT tell me otherwise.

#bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #bsd smut #this case isnt gonna get too insane bc i just write a detailed investigation lmfao #im trying ok this is just lots of smut with a lil plot to make it juicy #anyway I hope you enjoy lol

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