#sorry i just. i gotta get it out somewhere so this word dump is going here. my od date is coming up and im a mess

[pansyboybloom]

i want to talk about anger and psychosis for a second. i want to talk about being angry, being hot and fuming and pulsing and seconds away from screaming from the minute you open your eyes each day and have no idea why, i want to talk about being scared all the time, terrified of everything and everyone, and because you cant let that fear kill you, you get angry instead. i want to talk about how hard it is to try and be the 'good one', the 'good psycho', to sit in silence and let it build and build because if you say you're filled with hate, with rage, with the need to bite and scream and hit and crash and break and kill and destroy and maim and, and and. if you say any of that, you're a monster, proof of the volatile and dangerous nature of anyone with a brain like you, you're betting dogpiled and sedated and locked up and institutionalized and you can't open your mouth to scream because if you do everyone will pat themselves on the back for finally putting down that insane psycho. you cant lash out, so you lash inwards, pull and burn and cut and purge and break until you are in pieces, bleeding and bruised and impossible to love, and watch, thinking you've finally cracked the code, that you're finally the 'good ones', as everyone stares at you in horror, at this self-mutilated creature before them. so you do nothing. you get angrier and angrier and angrier and it never goes away, until one day you're gone for good and everyone wrings their hands and says, well. at least you aren't angry anymore.

#sorry i just. i gotta get it out somewhere so this word dump is going here. my od date is coming up and im a mess #actuallypsychotic #actually schizospec #actually mentally ill #self harm tw #institutionalization tw #ableism tw #suicide tw

[seventh-district]

.

#vent #vent post #cw vent #cw vent post #i wanna vent but. i don’t even know what to say #maybe i’ll just go write something instead. like. fiction. a story. #get the pain out by putting it into a story instead. #it worked with Paralyzed. and it seemed to be appreciated by/helpful to a number of other people as well. maybe it’ll work again #don’t know if i can though. brain just wants to clock out for the rest of the day #but i can’t vent abt this here cause i do that enough already and it just makes people feel sorry for me #i appreciate the concern i just. i don’t want to drag anyone else down anymore #i’m the way that i am because other people couldn’t keep their trauma to their selves. or deal with it in appropriate ways #so maybe i’m not any better than them if i keep subjecting people to all my negative emotions every time i’m upset #like. where does the cycle end. i feel like a container that people keep dumping their life’s waste in and i just have to. hold onto it #because if i go and dump it somewhere else then it’s just someone else’s problem to clean up #what do i do with it all though. it’s making me sick. #how do i process it and purify it into something that can safely be put back into the world when i feel like i’m going to explode #i’m just so tired of the yelling. how loud can a humans voice even get jesus fucking christ #i don’t know why it’s so terrifying. they’re just words. i mean they’re not. they’re not baseless threats. ive learned that from experience #anyways i’m sharing too much again. i gotta stop mentioning so many specifics on this blog cause one day someone irl will find it #and ohhhhhh the fallout that would cause! terrifying #so i should. choose my words more carefully and be a bit less specific in these vent posts going forward #anyways. today was going great until i got triggered pretty badly again so. i guess i can kids the rest of my plans goodbye for today #i’ve been productive for 12 hours now though so. good enough i guess. #still really wanted to be able to enjoy my evening and be Social but i don’t think i can anymore. i’ll try again tomorrow #i did manage to pack the work i had planned for the next three days all into today though so that’s good. #helps free up a bit of my packed schedule for the rest of this month. hopefully i’ll be able to make good use of the extra time #but knowing myself i might just squander it on something unhealthy and self-indulgent #whadaya want from me im just a tired little creature trying to survive in a harsh environment #so sometimes doing my best is ignoring everything and sitting alone in the dark eating pasta while watching ppl play shitty horror games

[bomber-grl]

19 for hiro hamada? pretty sweet in tone, but also like. reader is scared 2 lose hiro in a crowd or soemthing? idk im not great with descriptions im sorry 😓

have this silly 2 make up 4 my lack of description

Prompt #19: tugging at the other's clothes to keep them close

I changed it up a bit, hope you don’t mind! 😅

-

You should’ve known this would happen…

Hiro had asked if you’d want to go to the upcoming SFIT event with him and how could you decline? You’d recently become boyfriends and you’d be lying if you didn’t secretly consider this your first date..ish

But now? One second you were happily next to Hiro on his right and now he just disappeared!!!

How could have this had happened?? Great just great one second hiro was here and the next-

Well now you were stranded with a bunch of randos and now you were sorta in the dumps.

Suddenly you felt someone tap your right shoulder and low and behold it’s hiro!

“Hey what are you doing just standing here?” He seems genuinely confused. The idiots got a drink in one hand and one in the other, offering it to you.

damn you can’t even be even slightly mad now…

“Nothing…” it’d be sorta embarrassing to admit and it’s not like Hiro isn’t aware. If anything he’s smirking and holding back his laughter.

“What? What are u laughing at??” You squint your eyes at him and sorta pout.

“Oh well nothing” he shrugs “let’s just move, I saw some pretty interesting presentations over that way.” He points towards somewhere in the distance and even if you were upset you’ve gotta admit he’s a cutie.

“Alright” you finally accept the bottle he’d gotten you, it was your favorite beverage.

“Hey hiro” you say calling his attention. “What’s up?” He looks at you waiting.

“Even if sometimes ur a buttcheek i still like you a lot” you don’t know what possessed you to say this but you don’t regret it.

Despite being a bit flustered at the fact Hiro was silently teasing you for your misdirection atleast you’ve managed to turn the tide. Nice!

I mean just look at him. His face is red to the nines and if you didn’t know of his tendencies to flush easily you would’ve called 911.

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. “Well? Lead the way” you changed the subject and pointed towards the direction Hiro was previously referring to.

Hiro let out a little “Oh!” Your previous statement had definitely got to him, so much so he even forgot what he wanted to do.

“Um alright, well stay close so you don’t get lost” You knew he refrained from saying “again” but whatever.

Well of course you almost got swept away and before the new tide of people could drag you along you held onto the right sleeve of Hiros sweater.

No words were exchanged as it was too loud and crowded to, but you eventually made it to your destination.

You turned to face hiro “hey-“

Hiros face was flushed red and was obvious trying to face away from you. Then you realized, you were still holding onto his sleeve!

Jeez if this got him flushed then you wonder how he’d react to you actually holding his hand. How endearing

-

I realized it wasn’t even sweet and more teasing/ reader being an anxious mess 😭 if you want I’ll give u a refund so dw 🫡

#fanfic #gn reader #male reader #fluff #fanfic fluff #fluff headcanons #hiro hamada x gn reader #hiro x male reader #hiro x reader #bh6 hiro #hiro bh6 #hiro hamada x reader #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #bh6 fanfiction #bh6 fandom #bh6

[foolishlovers]

i think you deleted the post where u were asking about how to title fics but i was 3/4th the way through before i realized so im sending an ask. idk if you still want this, but i gotta dump this SOMEWHERE, so now you're stuck with multiple examples of how to title a fic from my own personal experiences. this gives me an excuse to ramble about them a bit. im sorry

okay but really here's the tldr before i start; i only go for lyrics when i really like the song/line and it fits with a central idea, but ultimately? i bullshit it--but with intricate methods. let us begin...

example 1) rolling with a theme

let me start with one of my favorite fics im writing to get me going. the title: do you remember hanging up the stars. this process was honestly very tedious, but im gonna try and put it in a simple format.

so rolling with a theme. this fic is a canon divergence au, where hell is slightly more competent and kicks crowley out of his flat and replaces him with shax like a month after the appcalypse. so pretty quickly! therefore, this throws crowley very off-kilter, thus resulting in aziraphale picking up the very obvious hints and deciding to Make crowley move in with him instead of Talking about it. its a longfic, and i knew from the start that i wanted this title to be grand And related. so, i made a list of the themes that would be explored.

- crowley and his relationship with the stars

- trust in multiple facets (humans and their competence, their trust in each other now that theyre unemployed and recovering, etc)

- non-verbal communication, despite its flaws, can be one of the best ways to show love

- romance manifesting in different forms but are all valid

so i have that list, and i pick the one that's the most important--for this, i chose the stars. then i diffused THAT--what about the stars makes it interesting? what makes crowley long for them so much? i chose distance--crowley, in the show, has a very dettached attitude towards his angelic self. he doesnt hold that self to any higher importance, because why should he? and yeah, he's valid in this, but he also ends up putting off his stars to that angel, not him. he thinks that because he took such pride, such responsibility for them Before, he shouldn't care now, that he should deny this part of hid past and make himself more miserable because of it. but he does want to take pride, he loved AND loves them so fucking much, and he's just hurting himself more the process. i want him to realize that his mark on the world shouldn't be a burden, shouldnt just be a silly little assignment from before the fall. that heaven wants him to forget, that hell wants him to be disgusted by it, that he's doing what they want. that, if fact, it would piss everyone off if he actually owned up to it. i want aziraphale to help him realize it. i want aziraphale to encourage him. so that's where the title comes in: "he looked at you like you were hanging the stars", but Tweaked. taking a kind of common line and twisting it so it fits This. so. wow i went on tangent. im sorry. the rest will be a lot shorter and actualy helpful 😭 the point is that you could treat the title as a summary but even SHORTER. goes with what sounds right, and also don’t think about it too much. OKAY MOVING ON

example 2) rolling with a theme (song lyric edition)

okay next example. title: hold me like you’re scared to. it’s a lyric from the song ‘use me like you do’ by noah floersch. it’s a titanic ‘au’ (don’t judge me please 🥹) about aziraphale and crowley on the boat and getting through millennium of fear of being together while also on a detective noir like adventure. themes are easier to see here: the fear of being caught. afraid of showing your love. and I’d already happened to have a song I really liked, but I could really just listen to any song at any one point and be very inspired. you can also study lyrics from places you really like, if you REALLY want it to be a lyric :)

example 3) resonating with a Word

is there a word that’s repeated a lot in the fic? a word that has Meaning? a single concept summarized in a word that’s important here? that’s a title. you have a good title. example title: please. it’s very centered on begging, and the mc has like heavyyyyy memory problems and is trying to grasp the little wisps they have that are slowly slipping away. like stated before, you don’t have to think about it too hard. wanna make the summary the definition of that word? double whammy!

example 4) canon line/something from the fic

this is for very specific things but let’s say you’ve got like. A really good catchphrase in the fic you came up with. or the fic centers around a diverged canon scene. just pluck it and use it! example title: burn fast, burn bright. one of the reoccurring phrases is the metaphor ‘the candle that burns twice and bright burns half as long’. I just condensed it for the title. :)

and here's a couple tips on what Not to do:

- don’t make it too long. 1 because it’s harder to search, 2 because it’s harder to remember, and 3 bc it would honestly be a handful. it’s a preference, but considerable.

- make sure it relates to the fic in Some way, in literally any capacity. in the same ballpark, don’t

- make sure you like it. you’re going to be refering to the fic with that name for the rest of time.

so yes. I hope this is like. a starting point, at least. if you made this far, you endured the fic rambling (I presume) and for that I thank you. good luck with all your wips, and wish you ultimate good fortune, as well as luck on your tumblr secret santa au. :33

i don’t even know what to say!! thank you, thank you, thank you!! it is so so very kind of you to write all of this, to explain all of this to me, i’m so grateful for all your thoughts and ideas and i’ll keep all of this in mind when i’ll (hopefully??) pick the title for me tumblr secret santa au today!!

#please never ever say for rambling!! #i ASKED for this and i loved every second of it #i’m sending u all virtual flowers 🌸 🌷🌻🌼🌹 #i can’t believe u took so much time to help me i can’t thank you enough!!!! #seven-stars-in-his-palm #answered #good omens fanfic #fanfic titles #good omens

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

❤️What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?💛What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?too many questions?I hope not and if so I would like to remind you that you don't have to answer every question here but I also thank you for helping me out of the silent anon(I ❤ your writing)

Referring to this ask game I posted before.

Thank you for sending these questions! It was fun having to consider some things and why I do them. 😆 And it wasn't too many questions at all! UvU

And you're welcome! I'm proud of you for gaining the confidence to come out of anon ;;v;; 💗 I hope to hear more from you soon! >v< In the meantime, here are the answers to your questions~! >vÓ/)

❤ What is your favorite line you've written in a fic?

"Huh. Well, uh...glad you like my cooking, Gri--hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey! NO! Grim! You had yours, the rest are mine! Stoooop! Nevermore!!"

There are a lot of lines I've written that I'm quite fond of, but I'm always happy to think of this line as it is another aspect that is a mix between a sibling-like bond that develops over time while mixing the age-old pet owner struggle of defending your food from sneaky paws and teeth.

✍️ What's your ideal writing setup?

Honestly, so long as I have a notebook, clipboard, and my opencils, I can write anywhere! Typically speaking though, at home I'll be sitting at the coffee table on the floor with YouTube videos playing in the background or whenever I'm in a lecture. I don't really doodle like some people do to focus on the lessons or discussion, so writing is my way of staying awake and focused!

🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

I mostly tend to create as I go, like dumping a bunch of sand in the box before rewriting it to build my "sand castle" so to speak. 99% of the time though, I know where I want the fic to go, I just gotta figure out the how part! If you were to see my notes, I tend to keep them organized via bullet points in word documents or hand-written. This helps me keep ideas I have in mind somewhere I can reference later if I wanna verify something or finally bring it in as a plot point!

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you've learned about writing?

To just...let go and write what feels fun and enjoyable. Before I started this blog, I would start fics for other fandoms and then just...putter out or run out of steam. Somewhere along the line, I lost my confidence to continue projects I started because it either took me too long to get the next chapter up, or my ideas wind up getting too big the more I try to make it elaborate and amazing for the audience. Perfectionism, I suppose. Now though...with every single one of you that has liked, reblogged, commented, or even indulged my in my AU ideas...you've all helped reminding me why I loved creating fics and how much fun it was.

Sorry, that got a little sentimental, but I am truly grateful for all the love and support you all have given me. Thank you. ;;v;;

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Oh gosh, even the random doodles or sketches people have submitted have made me so happy, let alone when someone writes their own fics or gets creative with incorporating their characters into my AUs! I couldn't possibly choose when it's much more fun to see what parts or characters someone loved enough to get creative with it. QvQ

#faun speaks #ask game #I really enjoyed this since it made me think about what I wanted to say 0v0

[bungled-writes]

"Stress Relief" - Football Player! Dream x Reader

AFAB Anatomy, GN pronouns

Not proofread so ignore the spelling errors

Summary: After narrowly losing the playoffs game, Dream needs your help in calming down in the boys locker room.

CW: Smut! (Minors DNI), use of 'Daddy', degration, Dream calling the reader 'Bunny' and 'Cumbunny', choking, dumbification, face fucking, oral (giving), unprotected sex, semi-public (in the school locker rooms), just all around sinful content, dacryphilia if you squint ig, soft dream at the end with some aftercare

Word Count: 2,405

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18+ Content. Minors DNI

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

It was Friday, which meant it was game day. Oh glorious game day where you would go and support your wonderful boyfriend, cheering as loudly as you could from the stands. Game day, where you would hang out with him right before the game and give him his good luck kiss. Game day, the day that was the cause of not being able to walk most Saturdays. You see, win or lose, Dream always got out some of the extra adrenaline buildup after games. If the team won, he would shower you in praise, take you home and thank you over and over for being the team's good luck charm. However, today was not one of those games.

It was a high stakes game, the game that could get them to the state playoffs, but only if they won. The air was tense the entire game, especially the second half. Two points down. Only two points down in the fourth quarter. You thought that for sure they would be able to win this. But alas, as the buzzer sounded, along with many whistles from coaches, the scoreboard stood the very same. 14 to 12, the opposing team claiming victory. From your position in the stands, you saw your boyfriend rip off his helmet and throw it to the ground in a fit of rage. He was not the most graceful loser with a game this close and this high stakes. He made eye contact with you from your position in the bleachers, silently his far away gaze told you to 'meet him in the locker room'. Just that look alone made your thighs clench.

You waited a little bit, watching as people poured out of the bleachers, knowing that you wouldn't be able to enter the locker room till everyone else was gone anyway. But just sitting there, waiting was somewhat tortuous. Especially because you knew exactly what he was going to do to you. Soon enough, you felt your legs began to take you to the highschool, and into the gymnasium, your head just swarming with thoughts of him so angry, ravaging your body and taking what's his.

You pushed open the door, glancing around and seeing only Dream sat on the bench, wrapping up his hand. Right next to him was his gym locker, which now had a brand new dent in it. He looked up at you the moment you walked into the room, eyes hungry. " What took you so long, slut?" He demanded, words spilling harshly from his lips as he stood up and began to stride over to you.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't sure if everyone was gone yet.." you replied, feeling small under his emerald gaze.

" You're sorry, what?" He asked, looking down at you, unhappy with your lack of properly addressing him.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. " You said, eyes big and swarming with lust.

" Good slut. " He muttered, hands grabbing your waist. As he pushed you up against a wall of lockers. "You were pretty useless today slut...not really a good luck charm.." he growled, his knee slipping between your legs and pressing against your core. "So I guess you have to help me another way.." he whispered, soaking in the delicious whimper you made as he pressed his knee rougher against you.

"A-ahh Daddy please.." you gasped, not even sure what you were begging for. All you knew was it was very easy for you to become putty in the males hands. All you knew is that you wanted to please him and make him forget about losing the game.

A smirk spread across his face at your begging, and it grew even wider as he watched you start to grind your hips down on his knee. "desperate whore, wanting to get yourself off on anything, pathetic." He spat, taking one hand and pressing it to your neck. You just whined and nodded in response, which made him laugh. " I haven't even touched you yet and you're fucked stupid.. silly little whore! your mind goes blank even with just me speaking, doesn't it?" When you didn't answer and just ground against him more, he pushed you harder against the wall of lockers. " I asked you a question, cumbunny. And I expect you to answer." He growled in a dangerously low voice, making your entire body quiver.

You melted under his grip, eyes fluttering shut. " Y-youre right daddy! I'm just a mindless whore all for you.." the words escaped you so needily. " Use me Daddy.."

He lunged forward, capturing you in a hungry kiss. Your lips clashed together, him instantly taking control of the kiss and you submitting to him entirely. He took your lower lip between his teeth and pulled, eliciting another one of those whines that he was just dying to hear. Soon enough he pulled away from your lips, leaving you panting and wanting more. Your hips continued to grind down until he swiftly pull his knee away, leaving you with nothing to create friction with. You gave a pitiful whimper at the loss of even the simplest form of contact, but he just rolled his eyes. Both of his hands went to your hair, tangling his fingers up in it before shoving you down to your knees.

He looked down at you with a vicious hunger in his eyes. A hunger for you and only you. Your hands shot up and did quick work of his button and zipper, tugging his pants down quickly. Your eyes glistened as you licked your lips at the sight of his hard cock with just a thin layer of fabric keeping it from you. Leaning forward, you began to kiss and mouth at his clothed cock, mewling in protest when he shoved your head back into the lockers with force. "Not today slut. I need to put that mouth of yours to its proper use.." he growled, one hand staying on your head as the other quickly pushes down his boxers. He stepped out of his jeans and boxers, keeping you presses against the lockers.

His cock stood up gloriously in front of you, and the sight made your mouth water and your core fucking soaked. "Daddy Please.." you choked out, choking on your own desire for him.

"You'll get it soon enough cumbunny..trust me.." he purred. " But for now...open up slut. Gotta shut you up for a bit…" he hummed, both of his hands rooting themselves in your hair again. He pressed his tip against your lips, watching as you parted them.

Still holding your head against the lockers, he started to thrust his hips forward, staring down at you. He watches every single thing that you did, loving all of it. Loving the sounds that he was forcing out of you Everytime he slammed into your tiny throat, loving the spit that was rolling down your chin onto the floor. He loved the way that your hands rested on your thighs, clenching around nothing as they fought against the urge to touch your needy clit. "Such a pretty slut..all for my..just my personal little toy. Aren't ya bunny?" He cooed, shoving his entire cock into your throat and just holding you there, groaning in pleasure.

He let out a shaky breath as he pulled out of your mouth, a string of thick saliva mixed with precum connecting you to his cock still. "As much as I'd love to use this throat as my cum dump...I rather use somewhere else.." he said with a smirk, slightly out of breath from fucking your face.

Slowly beginning to catch your breath, you looked up at him with doe eyes and wiped some of the dribble from your chin and nodded. " Please daddy use me.." you begged once again, him letting out an animalistic growl and pulling you up by the hair. Once you were standing up, he let go of you and stepped back, pulling his shirt off and staring at you.

Your body didn't waste a moment, hands quickly moving to pull your shirts and pants off without thinking about it. Once you were out of all of your clothes, you looked at him, feeling his gaze. Sometime when you were undressing he had sat down on the bench, a hand wrapped around his cock and slowly pumping himself. You clenched your thighs together, walking closer to him. The moment you got within reach, he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to straddle his lap. " Look at you cumbunny...all perfect ..all for me" he groaned as he attacked your lips in another bruising kiss, hands lifting your hips up and lining himself up with you.

You mewled into the kiss as you felt yourself sink down on him, your walls tight around him. " Oh daddy-!" You gasped, tilting your head back but you were cut off by him pulling you into another kiss, helping you sink all the way down on his cock. Once you were all the way down, he pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a smirk.

One hand rested on your hip while the other went to your clit, fingers gently pinching the delicate bundle and making you quiver. " Desperate slut. " He said as he lightly slapped your clit, watching at your head rolled back, your hips soon rolling as well. The roll of your hips pulled pleasured sounds out of both of you, your back arching as he hit every perfect spot inside of you.

"Please Daddy, fuck me, please please please! Fuck me!" You begged out, arms wrapped around his neck. You needed him to just fuck you like a ragdoll. Like you were nothing but a little toy to him. You didn't want to be able to walk for the next week. You just wanted him to fuck you into oblivion.

"Yeah little cumbunny? You want daddy to fuck you stupid? You want daddy to make you cum over and over again on his cock? Yeah bunny?" He said as he stood up, hooking your legs over his arms as he slammed you against the wall again. He was holding you up, staring down at where you two were connected. "Daddy's gonna fuck you stupid.." he whispered.

He started to fuck in and out of you at a desperate pace, burying his face in your neck as he groaned right in your ear. You were in absolute bliss. His cock filled you just right and every thrust he hit every perfect spot that was aching for his touch. Your head tilted back against the lockers as your eyes shut. It had only been a few moments of this, but you were already gone. Broken moans and begs spilling out of your mouth uncontrollably as your hands scratched his back, desperate to grab onto something.

Tears started rolling down your faCe from pleasure, sobs of pleasure escaping your mouth as a hand dropped down and started quickly rubbing your clit. Dream pulled away from your neck for a moment and could've cum right then there at such a pretty sight all for him. Tears rolling down your face, leaving shining streaks accenting your face. Your eyes all glossy from crying and your lips glistening with spit. Your hand needily working at what he couldn't, pinching and rolling that little bundle of nerves. Your entire body was quivering in pleasure, and the sight of you already fucked dumb made him lose it.

He sped up,snapping his hips into you at a rougher pace. You gave a choked out whimper, feeling your orgasm closing in. " D-daddy! M-m gonna cum!" You gasped, unable to think of anything but his cock fucking into you at such a violent rate.

"Cum for me bunny, cum all over daddy's cock. Come on.." he said breathlessly, his own orgasm nearing.

After a few more thrusts you screamed out his name, going completely limp in his arms as you clenched down on his cock and your orgasm came crashing down on you. You came all over his cock, your toes curling in pure pleasure as your eyes rolled back. He kept going even after you came, making you whine and push on his chest, the overstimulation making you cry a little bit more. " I'm almost there hun..just a little longer.." he said softly, letting you know that it wouldn't be too long. " Just hold on for me .."he whispered sweetly. His tone was quite sweet and gentle as opposed to his violent and ruthless pace of fucking into you.

His thrusts soon got very messy and after a few messy thrusts his entire body shook, shoving his entire length into you. Your thighs quivered and eyes shut gently as you felt him start to fill you up. He groaned loudly as he came inside of you, burying his face in your neck once more.

Once both of you had reached your highs, he stayed buried inside of you for a few moments, both of you panting in unison. "You took me so well Cumbunny...took daddy's cock and cum so well. " He said softly as he rested against you.

Your attempt at speaking just came out as a few whines mixed with whimpers and a mumble of daddy. He chuckled softly. " Did I fuck you stupid sweetheart?" He said with a chuckle, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. " Thank you…" he whispered softly. " Thank you for helping me baby..and you're always my good luck charm. You know that?" He whispered gently.

You nodded softly, just cuddled against him, mind still foggy and lost. " Okay baby..let's get cleaned up and then head to my house.." he said softly as he pulled out of you, smiling at the whine of protest. He changed your position so you were bridal style in his arms, heading over to the showers. He turned on the water and let it run over both of you, washing away traces of sweat and cum off of both of you. One hand lovingly ran through your hair, a smile decorating his face. " Open your eyes for me y/n. Don't want you falling asleep just yet.." he said gently.

Your eyes opened softly as you looked up at him, a tired smile appearing on your own face. " I love you dreamie.." you whispered softly.

"I love you too sweetheart. So very much.."

#Football! Dream #dream smut #mcyt smut #BungledWriting #I truly went feral #here you go #k: dumbification #k: choking

[pies-writes-and-more]

covered in bruises

word count: 2,611

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, nosebleeds, bruises, and scuffs/cuts, also a bitchy ex-boyfriend who sucks and shares some private pics. also some swearing cause it’s me (but i promise it’s fluffy!!!)

a/n: i genuinely have no clue where this idea came from but I’m a sucker for partners taking care of each other after a fight or something so tadah. thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells for helping me with the ending and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for helping me with the title! i hope you guys enjoy!

haikyuu masterlist

A few years ago, if you had told Y/N Y/L/N that she would be answering a phone call in the dead of night from Yamaguchi, she probably would’ve guessed that the two of them had forgotten about some project they were supposed to complete and the pair would’ve spent all night working on it while Tsukishima slept peacefully knowing he had finished it.

What Y/N never guessed on happening was Tsukishima stumbling through her front door, only barely being held up by Yamaguchi, the blond’s face covered in scuff marks and blood dripping from his nose and lips.

“What the hell happened?” Y/N gaped, immediately rushing to Tsukishima’s other side and helping him into the kitchen.

“Don’t even get me started,” Yamaguchi grumbled, muttering something about keeping your mouth shut and never would’ve gotten into this mess.

“Stop grumbling. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everyone’s fine,” Tsukishima huffed, pushing the two of them off but swaying a little.

“Tsukishima Kei, what the hell happened to you? You look like you got into a fight!” Y/N stared at him for a moment, watching as his gaze flickered away from hers. She glanced at Yamaguchi, as if hoping that would bring some answers, but he just glared at Tsukishima as well. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she said after a beat of silence, walking to the other room.

There was a flurry of hushed whispers as she left, Yamaguchi insisting to Tsukishima that he needed to tell her what was going and Tsukishima being blatantly stupid and insisting that there was in fact, nothing going on.

By the time that Y/N returned, hands filled with some spare tissues and bandages, sprays and cotton balls, Yamaguchi had thrown up his hands in the air in exasperation, “I give up. I brought him this far. He’s your problem now,” he groaned, shaking his head towards Y/N. “I’m sorry for dumping him on you, but maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Y/N and Tsukishima watched as Yamaguchi stormed off, leaving both of them in an awkward silence.

“Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?” Tsukishima grumbled after a bit, sitting down on a nearby dining chair. 

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, part of her wanting to smack him in the head but thinking better of it considering his injuries. “Here, hold this to your nose,” she insisted, handing him the tissues as she glanced over his body. From what she could see, the most damage was on his face but if he could keep his nosebleed in order, she could tend to the scrapes and cuts that were starting to bleed on his knuckles.

Pulling up a chair next to him, Y/N sprayed some hydrogen peroxide onto his knuckles. Tsukishima inhaled sharply, pulling away from her grip as he winced, “What the hell is that?” He glared at her, trying not to make it obvious just how much that fucking hurt.

“Give me your fucking hands, Kei,” Y/N demanded, holding her hands out with another vicious look. “You gotta spray them before they get all infected.”

The boy hesitated before slowly letting her hands take his, bracing himself this time as she dabbed away the blood and finally wrapped it up in some medical bandages. “I’ll get you something cold for your nose, hang on,” she mumbled, shuffling to the freezer and digging through to find something helpful.

Tsukishima shifted awkwardly, trying to glance around at anything else so he didn’t have to sit in the silence. “Are you not going to ask?” He muttered out finally, avoiding her eyes as he checked to see how much his nose was still bleeding.

“How about I assume it was something stupid?” she quipped, bringing over a cold ice pack. “Here, I use this sometimes when my muscles hurt after swimming practice.”

He nodded slowly, placing it over his nose in hopes of bringing down any swelling. Now that he was sitting here and his adrenaline was going down, everything was starting to ache a lot more.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Tsukishima murmured, glancing at her for a moment. 

Y/N laughed a bit, shaking her head, “Sure it wasn’t.”

Tsukishima frowned tightly, watching her as she cleaned him up. Her fingers delicately working along his skin, checking for any other cuts or scrapes along his arm. “Why would it be something stupid?”

“Because, the Tsukishima Kei that I grew up with only fought with snarky comebacks and sneers,” Y/N laughed a bit at the memories, glancing up at him and brushing her fingers along the cut on his eyebrow. 

“Wouldn’t that mean that if I had to punch someone, it would be something serious?”

The girl couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, thinking about this string bean of a boy throwing hands, “You punched someone? It kinda just looks like you got used as a punching bag.”

“Hey, it was 3 to 1. And I left some pretty good cuts on them too, thank you very much,” Tsukishima groaned a bit as Y/N dabbed a bit of the peroxide on his eyebrow, swatting at her hand, “Okay okay. I think it’s clean now!”

“So if one of these gets infected, will you be bitching like a little baby then too?” She shot back, smacking his hand away from hers. “How’s your nose?”

Tsukishima pulled the tissues and cold pack away from his face, letting Y/N examine him, “Well, I don’t think it’s broken so you’ll probably be fine. Just don’t take a volleyball to the face anytime soon.”

He just rolled his eyes as she went to start a kettle, insisting that tea was good for healing. 

“If I asked what it was about would you be honest?” Y/N questioned as she brought over two cups of tea.

“Would you believe me if I said they had just such punchable faces?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, kicking at his shin from under the table and making him whine a bit more, “Hey! I’m bruised all over the place!”

“Tell me what happened! Yamaguchi thought I should know so why shouldn’t I know?”

Tsukishima just looked away, fingers drumming along the mug that was warming his hands. “Just... some dude doing some dumb shit. Saying stupid things about...”

“About?”

“About you.”

Y/N stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Tsukishima wasn’t exactly the number one best example of a friend. And it wasn’t like there weren’t people before who didn’t like her. There were bound to be people saying shit.

“What did they say? Do I know them?” She asked finally, thinking back about the list of people she had in her head who definitely didn’t like her.

“It doesn’t matter, they were just being idiots,” Tsukishima tried to insist, sipping at his tea. “I was just annoyed and so I called them out for it. And the one guy took a swing at me. Then we just... did what guys do, I dunno.”

“Is Yamaguchi okay?” Y/N’s eyes widened, looking at her front doors as if the boy would magically still be there. “Did he get hurt?”

“No way. If anything, Yamaguchi probably broke the one guy’s nose,” Tsukishima snickered, thinking back to the moment where one of the dudes crumpled up in pain after Yams smacked him around. 

Y/N nodded slowly, reminding herself to text the boy later and make sure he was alright. “You’re really not gonna tell me what they said?”

Tsukishima stretched his legs out slightly, getting more comfortable in the seat and avoided her eyes some more, as if pretending she hadn’t said anything. But the awkwardness exuding from him was very evident. “He just... said something about you being average... but still kept showing off these stupid pictures,” he finally muttered out, ears going red.

Y/N felt her heart drop a little. She didn’t need to hear anything more than pictures to know that her fucking ex-boyfriend was the one who was causing all this trouble. She had so many regrets about that relationship, and one of them was the photos that she had sent.

“I deleted them,” Tsukishima commented after glancing at her expression. “When I knocked him down I grabbed his phone and deleted them. I dunno if he has other copies somewhere but...”

Y/N practically threw herself across the table, wrapping the string bean boy into a hug. There was such a relief off of her shoulders, just knowing that Tsukishima had tried to get rid of them.

He grunted in response, pulling her closer into a hug but also shifting her weight around so it wasn’t on his side (which hurt like a bitch). “Stop doing stupid things for boys who are too dumb to realize what they have,” he commented, flicking her head.

She gave a little laugh, hugging him tighter for a moment before pulling away, “Yea yea... Does that mean I should stop taking care of you all the time?”

Tsukishima’s lips made a few protesting sounds, huffing before finally standing up and stretching. “I should get going. I don’t want you to stay up too late or you’ll be yawning all day tomorrow in math.”

Y/N smacked his arm a little making him wince a bit, which just made her laugh, “Go on then. Try to take a shower and ice your bruises. And next time you beat up my ex-boyfriend, call me so I can take a swing at him too.”

Tsukishima smirked and nodded, heading to the front door and slipping his shoes on. 

“Hey Tsukishima?”

He glanced back at her, surprised to find the nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet for a moment before reaching up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I mean it. Thank you.”

Tsukishima burst into a fit of stammers, insisting that it wasn’t that big of a deal and she shouldn’t make it into one, but his cheeks were glowing red while he waved it away.

The next day at school, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when her eyes landed on her black-eyed and scuffed up ex-boyfriend. For a string bean, apparently Tsukishima was pretty good at landing punches. Maybe it was the snarky expression on her face, or maybe it was just because she had walked by, but before Y/N could rush past him, her ex-boyfriend stepped in front of her, glowering down at her. 

“Get out of my way, asshole,” Y/N huffed, stepping back slightly.

“You know, I always knew there was something going on with you and Four Eyes,” her ex told her in a low voice, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I should’ve known you were cheating on me.”

“Right, I cheated on you and then broke up with you for cheating on me,” Y/N raised an eyebrow up at him. “Get lost, idiot. I don’t have time for you.”

“You’re saying you weren’t seeing him behind my back? That it’s not suspicious that you two immediately started going out after we broke up?” His voice was raising, causing all the students nearby to glance in their direction, whispers filling the space around them.

“We aren’t going out,” Tsukishima’s voice thudded into the air, his heavy arm flopping onto Y/N’s shoulders. He patted her head gently as he gave her a simple smile before turning his glare onto the dude in front of him. “I didn’t ask her out when you two broke up. But if she’ll have me, I can do it here and now in front of you?” 

The offer stunned everyone around them, even the whispering bunches of teens who had come around to see if these two bruised and beaten up boys would end up fighting again. Y/N looked up at Tsukishima with wide eyes, heart palpitating against her chest.

“I knew you liked her,” her ex scoffed. “Too bad she’s too good for you.”

“Well if she settled for the likes of you, I must have a pretty decent shot. I might not be the best boyfriend material, but at least I know not to talk shit about a girl like Y/N,” Tsukishima snapped back. His eyes finally met Y/N’s and she had to wonder for a moment if he was being serious or just saying this to show up the asshole in front of them. 

“There’s no way she would go out with you-” the asshole glared at the two of them.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed out softly, both Asshole and Tsukishima’s eyes falling on her. “Ask me.”

Tsukshima’s usually scowling lips turned into a smile, patting her head and ruffling up her hair slightly, “Go out with me.”

Y/N nodded with a smile, still searching his eyes for any sign that this was a genuine interaction. 

“Finally,” Yamaguchi huffed from behind the two of them, grinning widely as they all turned to look at him. “The two of you look good together. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late to class.”

Tsukishima grabbed Y/N’s hand before she or her ex could say anything, pulling her ahead as they followed Yams to class.

“W-Wait, Tsukishima,” Y/N stopped in her tracks as they got outside of the classroom, Yams already heading in.

“What?”

Y/N watched him carefully, still unsure of his intentions. “Thank you, for helping me out back there but...”

Tsukishima’s eyes darkened for a moment, like he was coming to some sort of realization, “If it was just a ploy to you, it’s fine. We can just say it was to get him off your back, that’s fine.”

She grabbed his arm as he started to move away, frowning as she looked up at him, “N-No, that’s... I just wanted to know if you... if you meant it.”

As his eyes met hers again, he tilted his head slightly, “Meant what?”

Y/N sighed, knowing they were going to end up going back and forth on this topic if she wasn’t straight up wit him. “Did... Did you really want to ask me out?”

He gave a smirk and Y/N’s heart started to fall - so it had been a joke this whole time then. “Obviously I wanted to ask you out. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now. Did you think I would just ask you out for no reason?”

Y/N wanted to point out that he could have just asked her out to humiliate her ex but seemed to catch onto this and just laughed. “If you think I’d actually fight a guy for just anyone, you’re stupider than I thought.”

She pouted in return, hitting his chest in defiance, “Hey!”

Tsukishima laughed and flicked her forehead, smirking down at her, “Go out with me. Seriously this time.”

Y/N glared playfully at him, pushing at his chest a little, “Fine. But you’ve got to be a bit nicer to me.”

“I took punches to the face for you, how much nicer can I get?” Tsukishima scoffed but bent down and kissed her nose gently. “Now hurry up, we’re late now, idiot.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching them as Tsukishima interlaced their fingers together and pulled her into class, dropping her off at her seat and giving her a cheeky wink, before taking his next to Yamaguchi. 

She glanced at him every few seconds in class, pinching herself each time he would catch her eye and give her a small smile, wondering if her dreams had really come true. Had the guy she had fallen head over heels for really just asked her out?

Yes. And surprisingly, it was all thanks to her piece of shit ex boyfriend and a bloody nose.

haikyuu masterlist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas​ @aurumk​ @neko-chii1​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @tobi-momo​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @livy384​ @babyshoyo​ @jesssobs​ @b-bakana​

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #pies writes

[to-hell-and-beyond]

Were Your Love Lies

Robby Keene x Female Reader

Requested: Yes : No

Request: If your requests are open and of course if you want to write this, I would love to read a Robby Keene x reader were reader is friends with Sam and likes Robby(the feelings are reciprocated). But he and Sam are exes and so reader is hesitant to date Robby because of girl code. Sam can be back with Miguel or at least she’s over Robby. If you hate this idea you are more than welcome to ignore! -Anon

Ok, sorry this took sooooo long. I kinda made Sam the enemy because that's the kinda mood I am in today. I hope you enjoy.

Summary: You and Robby have gotten closer ever since his breakup with Sam. You decided that a beach party s the best time to tell your best friend your feelings about her ex. That is until a very big secret unfolds...

Words: 1580

The sounds of skateboards hitting concrete echoed around you and Robby as you walked by. It had become a common accurce for the both of you to be walking around town. The two of you had gotten closer as your best friend Sam had taken some time off. You barely saw her anymore, just at the dojo. You knew she had been hanging out with the Cobra a lot more but you were still ok with it. She was your best friend and she could have more than one friend.

But you did wish you could talk to her because of the girl code. Because you had been spending so much time with Robby, you felt your feelings of him grow more into a romantic feeling. You wanted to tell Sam and ask her for her blessing. But every time you seemed to try to talk to her she would make up some sort of excuse.

“I was thinking that maybe we could talk Mr.LaRusso to going to visit the beach this weekend. What do you think?” Robby asked as your eyes went glossy looking into the sky.

“Y/n?” He asked again as it finally got your attention.

“W-what? S-sorry, what are you saying?” You chucked as you turned to face him. He had his sweet smile on his face and his hair sparkled and shined from the rays of sun hitting him. You wished you could take a photo of him right now and keep it forever. He looked so beautiful in that moment.

“It’s ok Y/n. How do you feel about going to the beach this weekend. Maybe afterwards we could host a party?”

“I’d like that.”

-------

So there you were. Standing in the middle of the beach with the flames of the campfire behind glistening in the night sky. The practice at the beach had been a huge success as both you and Robby learned so much. You had finally mastered that kick that you’ve been wanting to land for a while now. Robby was so happy for you that you felt kinda embarrassed. Of course you did not show it but your heart swelled up in pride by his compliments.

Sam couldn't come. Something about “already promised my friend I’d help them study'', whatever that meant. You were getting kinda worried about Sam. She never answered your calls or read your texts anymore. Heck, she even started leaving you on open on snap! So you hoped that when you sent her the invite for the party that she would come. She was your best friend after all.

You looked around to see that some of the Cobras were already there. They didn't seem to be there to pick a fight with anybody so you were happy about that. The last thing you needed was another beach fight.

“Have you seen Sam anywhere?” You asked some of the Cobras as they all turned to look at you. You guys were not enemies but not the best of friends. You tolaterted each other.

“Probably with Miguel.” The one with the Mohawk “Hawk” joked as the rest of the Cobras laughed. You were confused and wondered what that meant.

“Seems like they never leave each other's side.” Another Cobra “Mitch” said which made them all laugh again.

“I’m sorry but, why would she be with Miguel?” You asked confused as they all stopped laughing to look at you. Did you really not know?

“Y/n…” Aisha said as she came up to stand beside you. Even though she had left, she still came sometimes to party and talk with her Cobra friends and old teammates.

“Ever since Tory left...Miguel and Sam had been...close. Take a look for yourself.” You looked to where Aisha was pointing to see your best friend and her ex making out.

So this is why your best friend keeps ditching you and Robby. She was sucking the face off of her ex. Who she claimed she was over with. Didn’t really look like she was over him. You hadn't even made a move on Robby because of the girl code but she was here. Was it really that hard for her to tell you that she was dating Miguel again? But maybe this was all some sort of misunderstanding. You decided to take matters into your own hands and go to talk to her.

“Glad you could make it Sam! You too Miguel.” You called out as you walked towards the couple. Sam had a look of shock as she immediately stopped kissing Miguel to look at you.

“H-hey Y/n” Sam muttered as she looked at you. You were confused on why she looked so worried. Did she think that you didn't support her relationship?

“Can I talk to you for a second?” You wanted the details. When did this happen, were, why and so much more. You also wanted to ask her for her blessing to start dating Robby.

“S-shure.” She kissed Miguel's cheek as you waved to him. He waved back as Sam led you to a clearing just a few meters away from the ever growing beach party. You sat on one of the tree stumps there as she sat on another one just a few feet away from you.

“I want to know it all. Why have you been ignoring me? Why didn't you tell me you were dating Miguel again? Why were you so scared when I came up to you? And how did that whole relationship come back to the world of the living?” You asked as she began to fiddle with her thumbs.

“You gotta start realizing what I was feeling at the time Y/n. Ever since Robby dumped me I was heartbroken. Miguel was there and he was also there, threw the whole thing. Every tear and every heart breaking moment. He apologized for everything that happened and we got close.” Sam tried to explain.

“Ok Sam. First off, Robby never dumped you. I was there when that happened, you told him that you needed space. Second, why couldn't you tell me? I’m ok with you being with Miguel. I just wish you would have told me.” Sam looked down.

Flashback:

You heard shouting coming from outside the dojo as you left the punching bag to go check it out. The voice of your best friend Sam’s voice grew louder and louder as Robby’s grew quieter and quieter. It was like he almost didn't want to fight.

“You know what!” Sam yelled as she pointed her finger at Robby. You saw the look of despair on his face and you swore you heard your heart crack.

“We’re going on a break!” She yelled again as she shoved past Robby and walked right out of the dojo.

“You ok?” You asked Robby. He opened his mouth to respond to you but he broke down in sobs. You held him tight as you let him let all of it out. That was the start of your friendship.

“I ran out and you didn’t go after me!” Sam said as she clenched her sleeve.

“If this is what this is about Sam, I’m sorry. I never meant for you to feel like I was putting you in second place. Robby was there and he was hurt! I had to help him! That’s kinda the reason I also wanted to talk to you…” Sam looked at you curiously as you took a deep breath and looked up to look at her.

“Well, I’ve gotten closer to Robby when you were kinda with Miguel. We got really, really close. Sam...I like Robby and I want your permission to...make a move on him.” You said as Sam looked at you with disbelief.

“Y/n. Don’t you think that’s kinda weird. Like me and Robby were just dating.”

“But aren’t you with Miguel now? Aren’t you over Robby?”

“That’s not what this is about Y/n! First, you interrupt me and Miguel to tell me that you like my ex? What happened to the girl code!”

“That’s why i'm trying to ask you-”

“You have no idea what it’s like to date him! It's always reassuring him that you love him and that you would never leave him. It’s exhausting! Sorry that I’m trying to be a good friend and try to stop you from making the same huge mistake that I made!” Sam yelled as you knew she looked embarrassed as you noticed some of the Cobras looking your way.

“ You know what Sam. This is exactly why your relationship didn't work. You blame everything on everyone and if something isn't what you exactly like you drop it. That’s what happened to me and Robby. It's not either of our faults it's yours. So you know what. I’m going to ask Robby to date me whether you like it or not.” You said as you stood up and grabbed your bag and left to somewhere quiet. You didn’t need to deal with a bunch of teenagers right now.

“Hey, have you guys seen Y/n? She said she was going to ask you guys where Sam was.” Robby said as he walked up to the Cobras. He knew how dangerous that was since the whole Cobra Kai vs Miyagi-do thing.

“Your girlfriend is fighting your ex bro.” Hawk said as he pointed to where you were storming off leaving Sam all alone.

“Well-*bleep*”

#robby keene #robby keene x reader #robby keene imagine #robby keene x y/n #sam larusso #samantha larusso #hawk #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai #cobra kai fanfic #mitch cobra kai #aisha robinson #aisha cobra kai #tory nichols #tory cobra kai #miguel diaz #miguel cobra kai #angst

[justsomeclintasha]

Something wakes him. It takes him a moment to remember- an undercover mission in Chicago, the safe house apartment- Natasha. He scrambles off the couch and towards the sound.

“Nat?”

No response. A nightlight glows in the corner, but he doesn’t need it to understand. White knuckles clench the blankets around her. Her breath comes in short gasps and her eyes are closed.

“Natasha, wake up. You’re okay.”

He sits on the bed next to her. Gently, he brushes a damp strand of hair from her face. It’s the wrong move. Her eyes snap open. There’s no recognition.

A string of Russian curses fall from her lips. Both of them see the blade on the nightstand and he catches her wrists as she makes a grab for it. She twists, thrashing against him, and he tightens his grip.

“Nat, it’s me, it’s Steve. Calm down. You’re okay.”

Fear pulses through her. Repeating the words proves to be ineffective. She screams in frustration and twists again. He wonders if she’s desperate enough to break her wrists, but if he lets her go she might hurt herself- or worse. It’s not worth the risk.

“Nat I’m sorry.”

He uses his weight to pin her fully to the mattress. A new kind of panic pushes up in her chest. Mumbled apologies fall on deaf ears. Suddenly she falls limp underneath him.

“Nat? Nat look at me, please say something, please come back.”

Glazed eyes stare up at him, unseeing. She’s retreated somewhere else, away from the Chicago apartment. Away from him. He lets her go and grabs his phone.

XXXXX

“Rogers, it’s three in the morning, this better-“

“It’s Nat.”

“Tell me.” Fatigue is gone from his voice, replaced by worry. There’s a shuffle of blankets in the background as he sits up.

“Clint I don’t know what happened, she was having a nightmare. I couldn’t wake her up. I touched her and she snapped.”

“How is she now?”

“It’s like she’s.. not here. She freaked out and tried to grab a knife, I had to pin her down so she wouldn’t hurt herself. I didn’t think, I didn’t mean to.” A wave of nausea rolls in his stomach. It’s all his fault. If he hadn’t-

“Steve, listen. I’m going to help you. Walk to the other side of the room and see if her eyes follow you.”

“Yeah, they do.”

“That’s a good sign. She’s not too far gone. What is she wearing?”

“Uh.. sweatpants and a tank top.”

“Run the shower. Make the temperature warm, but not hot. Get her out of the sweatpants, leave the shirt. The water will help her. Smells are good, too. Shampoo, body wash, whatever you have.”

“Hey Nat. I’m going to uh.. help you to the shower okay?” The line is quiet as he tells her what he’s doing, supporting most of her weight as they walk to the bathroom. The water turns on. “I need to.. we gotta take these off, okay? I’m just going to.. Okay, other leg now. Let’s put Clint on speaker for a few minutes.”

If the situation wasn’t so serious, Clint would be laughing. His friend is clearly uncomfortable as he helps her sit under the spray.

“Hey Natasha. You okay sweetheart? Can you hear me? You gotta come back with us. Steve is going to help you, okay?”

“I’m going to try the body wash.” He dumps a generous amount on the shower floor next to them. The steam from the shower enhances the scent. Her chest rises and falls as she breathes it in. After a few minutes she raises her head.

“What…?”

“Hey, it’s alright. Let me help. Clint is on the phone with us.”

“Nat, Steve is going to take care of you. Call me when you wake up, okay?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

They both look at the phone as the line goes dead. Clearly Clint trusts him to handle it from here, which is saying a lot since he’s the one who caused it in the first place. Wordlessly, he turns off the water and passes her a towel. She wrings out her hair.

“Are you okay?”

It’s a stupid thing to ask, he realizes as he holds out a hand to help her up. Still, she accepts it. He ducks out of the bathroom to grab her dry underwear and a T-shirt from her bag, not touching them more than he has to as he passes them to her. Leaning against the wall, he keeps his eyes on the floor as she changes.

“It’s not your fault.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Her fingertips lightly grasp his chin and he looks up to find her honest eyes.

“I’m okay. And we’re okay.”

“Do you need to talk about it?” She considers.

“Not tonight. But when I do, I’ll find you. Let’s go back to bed. We have to get up early.” She drops her hand and walks into the bedroom. He watches her from the doorframe. “Plenty of room for you, too.”

“I can take the couch again.”

“I’d sleep better though.”

“Are you really guilt tripping me right now?”

“Maybe.” With an exaggerated groan, he lays down next to her, facing the wall. Her back is warm against his.

“I am not explaining to Clint that we shared a bed,” he mumbles in the pillow. An elbow jabs playfully into his side and she’s laughing. In that moment, he knows they’ll be okay.

“Night Steve.”

“Goodnight Nat.”

#clintasha #clintasha fanfic #clint barton x natasha romanoff #Steve rogers

[pettyrevenge-base]

Insult your head closer instead of give a raise? Yeah, sure, there's no way that'll backfire.

In the late 90's I worked at a Subway restaurant; specifically closing shift. That'll be relevant later. At the time I was paid somewhere between 7 and 8 bucks an hour, a good chunk more than minimum wage, and had me bringing my A game every day. I knew it was "just fast food", but I took pride in my work. I showed up early, always covered when people called in, followed the recipes (even the really anal stuff like two slices of black olive per 6" sub unless the customer specifically requests more, etc.) By all accounts, I was a model employee. Plus since I worked alone I was the de facto shift supervisor. That's gotta be worth something. I figured I'd ask the regional manager for a raise. (Store manager didn't have the authority.) The worst he can do is say no, right?

Wrong.

Turns out the worst he can do is insult me and everyone else that works there. He was in one day and I made my pitch. He just went off on me, raising his voice shy of a full yell and saying something like "If you were worth more, you wouldn't be working here. You're replaceable, now go away and don't ever speak to me again. I'm the regional manager, and I'm actually important, you just make sandwiches and scrub toilets." Again, not the exact words, but he did make those points quite clearly. I remember being shocked into silence at such a cartoonish display of arrogance coming out of a balding middle-aged man. First time I'd ever encountered a .50 caliber douchebag. I didn't even specify an amount, I just asked for a raise. He could've given me a nickel, or even made something up like "I'm sorry wages are set by corporate, I can't do it" and while I'd have been disappointed I'd have accepted it. But no, his response to the very concept of any raise was a pretentious, self-righteous indictment against the value of every Subway employee that wasn't management. Or probably him specifically. I'd genuinely enjoyed working there, right up until that watershed moment.

OK Cheese-Dick, if that's how you want it, fine. I'll get mine, one way or another. I take pride in my work, but 7-something an hour isn't enough to engender any further loyalty after you so flippantly insulted me and everyone working for you.

Up until that point I had been meticulous about everything I did at work. Like I mentioned earlier closing shift was a one-man show, which meant I had no supervision. My effectiveness was judged based on the accuracy of my inventory numbers, counting my till, my clock-out times, and whether everything was in order when the openers arrived in the morning. I knew a few tricks to offset inventory, which allowed me to take home food without it being noticed. (Ring up a small soda as a cheese round since they were both 89 cents, etc.) On a good night I'd take home a dozen or more footlong subs. On a bad night, I'd just make sandwiches with the loaf of bread I brought from home. I'd also bring in a bunch of empty bottles or jugs, and fill them from the fountain after clocking out. I'd dump entire cambros full of meat, veggies and cheese into a bag to take home. Sometimes I'd bake an oven full of cookies with the express purpose of taking them, if I could do so without using up the rest of a box. (Because a box with one raw cookie was counted the same as an unopened box.)

The moment he made it clear what I was worth to him, I started looking for a different job. If he'd given me a token 3% cost of living increase, it'd have amounted to maybe 25 cents per hour. They had me working around 30-35 hours a week, just below "full time", so it would've amounted to under 9 bucks a week. Hell, he could've even offered a sincere apology and no raise and I would've kept on with it.  Instead for the last few months I worked there, every single night I took home what probably amounted to a couple hundred dollars worth of potential sales. Every. Single. Night.

At the time my friends and I, being late teens/early 20's, were still in the party phase of our lives. So every night I worked for those last months I'd roll up just as the party was getting wild, with a bunch of sandwiches, cookies, gallons of soda, etc. Those few months doing the bare minimum and sponging off that dead-end job were way more satisfying than giving my all for 7 and change for an insufferable bag of septic slop.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

#pettyrevenge #lol #omg

[cha-lyn]

A Series of Break Ins

bucky x black female reader

Summary: Someone breaks into your apartment

Warnings: break ins, lil bit of violence, wounds + blood

Words: 1617

A/N: Inspiration from @write-it-motherfuckers ( prompt is in bold somewhere below) :) some wonderful stuff on that blog

-------

January.

You lived in an old building in a shitty part of town. The loft kind that was once an office or a factory or something. Lots of windows. Terrible heat bill in the winter. You heard gunshots and fighting frequently. It wasn’t your dream home. No, your windows faced a manufacturing building with no windows. From your fire escape, if you stretched really far, you could cross the alley and touch the building. You only did that once though because the fire escape was rickety and not very safe.

That particular night, you were coming home from a mediocre date with a guy named Marcus. Usually you’d take a cab home, but your budget was tight this month. So you weaved through the alleys, the cold and the dark making you more jumpy than usual. You just wanna be home, with your warm fuzzy socks on and a glass of wine.

Your anxiety settles once you make it into your building. You take the steps two a time to your third floor studio. You open your door, shutting it quickly and leaning back against it.

That’s when the hairs on your arm stand up. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches. Your kitchen light is on. You know it was not on when you left earlier. In your kitchen sits your first aid kit dumped out on the table.

You grab the baseball bat you keep next to the door and check every crevice of your home. Nothing.

You return to the kitchen, hesitantly. Next to the first aid kit is a napkin with a note: Sorry for the intrusion. I’ll replace everything I used. Thanks. - BB

You just looked at the note and blinked. Who the fuck had been in your apartment?!

The next day there’s a package outside your door containing the promised replacements from the stranger. There’s another note: Sorry again. -BB

You’re not quite sure what to do. Call the police? And say what- someone broke in, left no trace and then replaced what they stole? They would think you’re crazy.

February.

After the break in you upped your security. You got a deadbolt, a door chain, and a magnetic sensor on your front door that rang and alerted your phone when set off.

You felt pretty good about your upgrade… until it happened again. You’d come home late from drinks with a friend unlocked the door, then the deadbolt.

The light in your kitchen was on again. You grabbed your bat immediately, ready to swing on whoever was dumb enought to break into your house yet again.

“Whoa, whoa ma’am. Please don’t--” but you did. Whack him that is. Three times. And then a black gloved hand stopped your swings dead and blue eyes lock with yours.

“Holy fucking shit. B. B! It was you. Fucking Bucky Barnes broke into my house!”

He nods and watches your face as it goes from rage to confusion and then back to rage. You let go of the bat and he puts it behind him. “Look, I am really sorry. I know this is probably terrifying--”

“Yeah ‘cause I thought you were a god damn serial killer--not an Avenger!” You plop down onto a kitchen chair.

Bucky stared at you amused. “This is not how I thought this would go…”

“Don’t you have some Avenger place you can go and get fixed up? Instead of breaking into civilian households?” you sigh irritatedly.

“No. For one I’m not an Avenger…. And uh, two… I got hurt doing something not necessarily sanctioned by the government.” Bucky looked up at the ceiling bashfully.

“My god, you’re doing vigilante shit,” you breathed out a laugh.

Bucky shrugged, “You could call it that.” He wrung his gloved hands together. “I should go… I’ll send you replacements for the stuff I used. ”

“Or you could just not break into my house.” Bucky chuckled, before climbing out the window. “You could use the door!’

The man has the audacity to laugh as he closes your window, “Thanks again, doll.”

You let out a groan, wondering why on earth he chose your apartment and why on earth you weren’t more pissed off about it.

March

You’re dead asleep when you hear a thud on the fire escape outside your window. Your heart thuds like a bass drum as scenarios of you being murdered flash through your head. A stabbing. A shooting. God, please not a strangling. Then there’s a persistent tapping. You pretend to still be asleep, holding your breath and not moving.

“I know you're awake. I need to .. uh utilize your first aid kit again. Please, doll.”

Relief hits you like a wave and you flick the light on and get out of bed. You open the window and Sergeant Barnes slips through the space, holding his flesh arm, but not really effectively stopping the blood.

The two of you stand there for a second, until you remember that you don’t sleep with pants on and awkwardly move around him to find a pair of shorts. You find him sitting at your kitchen table again, waiting for you to get the first aid kit, like he doesn’t have a goddamn metal arm on him.

“For fuck’s sake…” You pull it out from under the sink and set it in front of him with a thud. Bucky smirks sheepishly. “Did you get shot again?” you ask after a while. He nods once as he gets to work. “Aren’t you like... super?” He nods. “Won't it heal super fast?” He nodded once again. “So what’s the point of the first aid kit?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” he sighs irritatedly.

You narrow your eyes, “Oh dear, am I inconveniencing you?”

He stops and looks up at you through his dark lashes. “Sorry. I’m being rude. What's your name anyway?”

You roll your eyes, but you tell him.

He cleans after himself and then stands. “Thank you again. Y/n.”

You ignore the lil shiver you get when he says your name, “Is this gonna be a regular thing Sargeant?”

Bucky flashed you a charming smile, “Do you want it to be, doll?”

You cross your arms and set you glare, “You have five seconds before I get my bat.”

Bucky let out a very boyish laugh before dramatically making his exit via the window again.

Over the next few days, you consider getting locks for the windows, but for some reason you just don’t.

Two weeks later, you open your door, arms full of groceries, and find Bucky sitting on the floor of your kitchen once more, first aid kit open in front of him. You’re not even surprised really.

“Ah, Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You scoff, “Maybe we would, if you would sTOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!!” You toss your purse on the couch.

Bucky laughs and the winces and groans. It’s then that you realize he’s very pale in the face and his flesh hand isn’t gloved it’s just dark with blood.

You drop the groceries roughly on the table, “Shit Bucky. Are you-- You’re bleeding a lot!”

“I’m fine, doll.”

“I don’t think you are….” You panic, reaching for your phone, but remembering it’s deep in your purse across the room.

“You gotta-- you’re gonna have to sew it up, okay?”

“Let me just call an ambulance,” you get up to get your phone, but he grabs your wrist firmly.

“No. You can do this Y/n. I’ll walk you through it.” Something in his blue eyes assures you. You nod and Bucky has you cut his shirt off before he leads you through the cleaning of his wound. Your face felt hot at the sight of his beautiful broad chest, despite the mess around you. Bucky guided you, wincing and jaw ticking as you closed up his wound. By the end, your hands are red and sticky and you’re quite nauseous, but you didn’t care. The color was already back in his face and the sparkle back in his blue eyes. “You did good, doll.”

“I can’t believe I did that,” you say breathily. Bucky smiled fondly at you. You get up, wash your hands thoroughly and gently help Bucky up and to your couch. “You want something to eat? Let me get you some water.” You don’t wait for an answer before going to the kitchen. You bring him a bottle of water, a beer, and left over orange chicken from last night’s dinner- he inhaled all three while you cleaned and sanitized your kitchen floor.

“I should head out,” he stood up stiffly, favoring his wounded side. “I’m sorry about all this…” he gestured towards his wound and then to your kitchen. “It won't happen again. I’ll get my own first aid kit.”

You shrug, “You basically bought mine with as much as you use it.” You stick your hand out. “Phone.” Bucky eyes you warily before obeying. “How about next time you need to use my first aid kit, you just call first?”

Bucky smiles a lopsided, goofy smile, as you put your number in. “I think I can do that.”

Three days later, Bucky calls you around 7pm. Thirty minutes later there’s a knock at your door - not your window.

“What’s bleeding now--”

Instead of beat up and bleeding, Bucky stands before you in a black button up with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take out. “Hey doll. I wanted to really apologize for everything and try to make it up to you,” he gives you a sheepish grin.

You can’t contain your own smile. “Well, orange chicken and flowers are a good start. Come in.”

----

Everything Tag List

@thefridgeismybestie

@basically-introverted

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky x black!reader #bucky x poc!reader #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #bucky drabble

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 3

a/n: Ok this is like the pre-climax? is that a thing? no well I'm gonna make it a thing right now! time to meet more of the family!!  enjoyyy <3

Fallon nudged your shoulder to get your attention. Previously your focus was on the champagne flute, and before that the odd waiter who served it to you with an old scar straight through his mouth.

“I brought you here to snatch and grab stuff, where’s the team spirit?” they ask.

You make a face, “You brought me here because you didn't wanna go alone. And I can’t blame you if I had to come here alone I would-”

“Definitely throw myself off the balcony. Running start.” a voice adds.

It was neither yours or Fallons. So the two of you turn around and find the culprit. And just like destiny or fate or something, you see the guy you handed off a letter from your dead parent a few days prior.

“I mean isn’t it kind of your party?” you ask.

Tim shrugs a bit and sips the drink in his hand. It’s a non verbal answer that gives something away. Maybe it’s in the 

“If you think that, then think about me. I’m the plus one.” you say.

He chuckles, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Same”

“Again?” Fallon asks.

You nod your head, “I had to drop something off at the Wayne building not too long ago. To Mr.Drake actually.”

“Oh it’s just Tim.” he says and holds out his hand.

You quickly take it and shake as instructed. Then Fallon follows the action, along with an introduction. Tim smiles and it looks like a genuine one.

“Well when I said we were gonna smooze I didn’t know you pre-planned.” they say.

You nudge them as they snicker. 

“I’d probably be the wrong Wayne to smooze. My hectic schedule allows for no free time.” he answers.

Fallon laughs at this. “Oh, well you’re kinda on the younger side too.”

You can see Tim’s check taint red. His eyes dart away from the both of you. You still couldn’t believe that a young man like him was in charge of Wayne enterprises- or enterprise, however that worked out. 

It probably felt like the world was on his shoulders.

The phone in your cocktail bag buzzed. Even though you didn’t know who it was, you had a very high suspicion that it was the league. What they wanted you to do at tonight’s event was still under wraps. But you knew that whatever task it was, wasn’t going to lead to a happy ending. 

It never does.

You open your bag and take out your phone, “I’ve gotta handle this. My Aunt.”

Both Fallon and Tim nod as you walk away from your table and out into the balcony. It was a bit chippy outside so it wasn’t really of use to anyone. The rich don’t like the cold you guessed. Makes sense, heated floors and sidewalks. 

The cold air reaches your skin. You don’t shiver. Growing up in Gotham until you were eighteen you hadn't gotten used to it. It was no Antartica but then again that Icicle man did like to rein terror sometimes. It was like practice.

You open the text and sure enough,

tonight you act as transport. 

when you get handed a package deliver it here: 

45 Gotham Harbor 

Great. You were acting as a convoy tonight. It shouldn’t bother you that much, but it does. If whatever they were planning was something real and dangerous and they were keeping you low on the food chain, that mean you were expendable to them.

It hurt. 

It wasn’t like you ran away from them. They gave you an opportunity to leave after a couple of years being one of their fastest rising recruits.. At first it felt like a sick test. Like one final trust fall before they could actually believe your unwavering loyalty. 

You sat with the decision for days. It was a whole week before you decided to get out of the league. You thought that as soon as you stepped food out of the place they would kill you. But you walked out the front door and kept walking.

Oddly enough they had even given you a ride to Gotham. 

But you being a convoy tonight? This felt like a test. One you needed to pass. If not for your life, then to find out what they were really planning. The league never takes care of things so out in the open like this. 

“Did you just get dumped or something?” another random voice.

You turn off your phone and turn your head to the left. In the dark corner of the balcony is a guy. You can only make him out because of his lit cigarette. If it weren’t for that, you probably wouldn’t have made him. 

Have your senses and training begun to fade? Ra’s is probably somewhere vibrating off the walls.

Sure enough he comes out of the dark and you can see him fully. He’s not in the night standard uniform. Instead he's in a dress shirt underneath a brown jacket. He did try with the black slacks you see. 

Was he security? No he looked a bit familiar. 

You think you should probably say something before he thinks rudely of you. 

“No, just an interesting text.”

He hums some sort of sound. And then he walks a bit closer. You notice its not close enough to reach out and touch him. He’s really careful. He must be some type of security.

“You were talking to Tim, you one of those Gala Groupies?” he asks.

The shock that falls upon your face can't be helped. It instantly turns into sourness at the implication that you were a groupie. First off, Galas are boring. Second you’d more likely be a groupie for a rockstar than a rich old man- let alone a younger guy like Tim.

You hiss and cross your arms against your chest, “That was bit presumptive wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult. Presumptive to think that I did.” he bites back.

You nod you head along with a grin. 

“Didn’t know the security detail came with snobbery. How do I know you’re not a groupie for Tim?” you ask.

He looks like he wants to hurl. Then he beings to laugh. His laughter fills the balcony a bit and you just watch in interest. He calms himself and then places his hand over the railing to rest.

“I would not, it’d be weird.”

“Not your type?” 

“My brother will never be my type.” 

Ah.

You look at him for a second more and then it clicks. This was Jason Todd, the black sheep of the Wayne family, you are talking to. You thought he looked familiar you just couldn’t place him earlier. Even though the white streak through his hair should’ve gave it away. 

“My apologies.” you say.

He fakes wiping a tear from his eye. “no worries, you gave me a laugh tonight. I should be thanking you.”

“I am not gonna be your groupie either.” 

“Presumptive, but okay.” 

“Have a good night.”

-

Bruce finds Tim in-between mingling and cuts in. 

“Oh thank God, I thought for another second my head would burst.” Tim says.

Bruce smiles, “Saved you then.” 

“Have you seen Dick anywhere? I wanted to get his eyes on a case of mine.”

“No night work at the Gala. Take a break.” 

Bruce begins to look for Dick within the crowd of people. His eye bounce from person to person. Effectively he’s glanced over you without a second thought. Or so he thinks.

When he does finally find Dick, he calls for him. This makes his son stop in his tracks. He comes to a stop and you were right behind him as he did. You aren’t quick enough to stop yourself and so you go colliding into his back.

-

“So sorry about that.” he says.

You shake your head, “It’s fine. No drinks spilled or whatever they say.” 

He throws out a laugh so easily. You smile quickly and make a B-line for Fallon. As you make your way to where they have taken new residence, you see their face change. More specifically their eyebrows go up in the way that says ‘oh?’

“Cut it out, he bumped into me.” 

“Maybe you guys can do some more bumping. Later on, if you-”

“I know exactly what you mean and I’m not entertaining you.”

-

Dick makes it over to his father and his brother. When he does Tim claps his back with his hand. It makes Dick wonder where the time went. 

“Nice to see you brother.” Tim says.

“You too. Bruce.”

Bruce just nods. A man of not many words for those closest to him. He sure did know how to entertain guests though. It was all a mask anyways. If anything he was doing them a service not using it with them.

“I almost ran into someone. Thankfully there was no drinks involved, I would’ve ruined a whole outfit.” Dick says, pointing back to you.

Tim follows his finger over to where you and Fallon are standing. 

“Oh, that’s who delivered me that letter the other day. Speaking of which, there was another one addressed to you Bruce.” he says.

Bruce nods his head once, “I know I saw it the other night when you passed out on your desk. At some point we’re gonna have a conversation about your sleeping habits.”

Jason walks up to the three men. 

“You’ll never correct it. He’s more of a bat than you.” he says.

Bruce is doing double the work. He’s listening to the conversation happening in front of him about Tim’s horrible sleeping schedule or lack thereof. While he looks over at you. The person Tim said delivered the letter.

His child.

#dc #batman #Dick Grayson x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Jason Todd x reader #batman x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #dc x reader #PAST LIVES #redhood x reader

[stardustincarnate]

CONFESSION // Mello x Reader

word count : 4016 genre : fluff a/n : i haven’t gotten over my writer’s block, so yes -- here i am, once again posting old fics from my wattpad account. 

Today is the day.

After contemplating about it for a couple of weeks and confiding it to his best pal, Matt, Mello has finally decided to confess his feelings for you tonight, exploiting the situation where you two will normally go riding on the city streets during Friday midnights such as this one.

To say the least, he isn't the best in this kind of thing— love, that is. Before, all he could think about was one thing which was proving that he's better than Near, and besides, no one really piqued his interest. But then the enigma that you are came.

You can be cunningly evil at times if you want to. You'll often say to the ones you've fooled or to the other mafia members, "It's nothing personal, it's just business." You also have a harsh mouth as he would like to describe. Anything that comes out of it may sound derisive or blatant, but it's basically the truth. You don't sugarcoat things— you don't even try to. Although sometimes you seem to make the truth more cruel than it really is, which makes you look too intimidating for the others. They're only thankful that you don't talk very often and only will if you have something conducive to say.

But that's not all that you are. Mello could feel it, so he grew curious of you. Just a mere speck of curiosity, but then it grew. He wanted to talk to you, but then he asked himself what's the point of doing so, thus he disregarded the idea. That's why you developed a friendship with Matt, who you think is really fun to be with, first. Then as your friendship grew, he thought of introducing you to Mello, and that's when it began. To be frank the beginning of your friendship wasn't easy, and to think that friendship only started growing not until you celebrated a year and a half of being with the mafia.

It was a long process, but in the end, it was worth the wait. Day by day he started lowering the walls he barricaded himself with, and same as you. He became really outgoing and deep down truly caring as your friend, like he is with Matt, because after all you two are the only family he has. And— let's not forget his strange addiction with chocolates! And, well, you like it.

You like him.

Mello knows this as well. He knows that his feelings are reciprocated and he's happy with that. But the question is, who's going to make the first move? Certainly not you. Between fighting the devil and confessing your feelings for someone, you'd probably choose the former. You don't seem like the kind of person who will make the first move. He as well is like that.

And that leads us to his acquiescence of doing it instead. Did he have a choice? Well, maybe, if one considers you doing it instead, but that will definitely take several months, or even years, from now. And he can't wait that long! What if you suddenly start to develop feelings for another person? He can't lose you, you that is just in front of his eyes, one step away from him. He needs to grab the opportunity while it still is there.

Because with you, he feels happy and contented. And for the first time he finally feels like he is number one.

And he really is, in your heart.

"Wooh!"

Matt exclaims after slamming the door, causing Mello to jolt upwards from his reverie. "You know I almost got caught by another mem!"

"Is it done?"

"Of course."

"Hm. You sure this suggestion is for the better? You know how scary that woman can be when she's mad. Especially after finding out that her tires have been flattened."

"Didn't you say you wanted something more romantic tonight? So, I thought of flattening her tires so she can't use her own scooter, that way she can ride with you."

"Uh-uh... Is it romantic though?"

"You two will be close enough. And—no perverted thoughts—she gets to wrap her arms around you while riding. If that's not romantic, I literally don't know what is."

"I'm having qualms about this one."

"What? I'm just as clueless as you are when it comes to romance. I'm doing my best here to help you ya know?"

"I know, I know. Sorry."

"It's your fault you fell in love with her." Matt jests, chuckling. But he immediately behaves himself when he sees that deadly glare of his friend. "Hey! I was only kidding! Don't look at me like that, Mels. You're creeping me out."

"Hah. But I guess you're right. My fault. And great— now I'm having more doubts than before and feeling.. tentative."

"The almighty Mello is nervous? Wow. I never thought I'd live to see this day!"

"Say one more word and I'll make sure it's the last you'll ever emit."

"HE-HE-HEY! Now you're just being belligerent. Don't worry. I'm sure you two will come back here as a couple. Swear it on my life. So stop doubting yourself. And just.. don't act awkward and dorky when confessing towards your little devil."

"Just how am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. Just don't."

Mello heaves a sigh. "Sometimes I do wonder if you're really the smart Matt they used to talk about back in the orphanage."

Matt only grins. He's about to reply, but then they both hear footsteps—angry footsteps—coming closer.

"Oh, speaking of the devil. Here she comes. In three.. two.. one.."

With that, you kick the door open and look around. You look like you're about to whip someone's ass and the men can almost laugh at your reaction knowing the reason behind it. You give them a steely look when they unknowingly start to curve their lips to a grin. They quickly change their reaction.

"This has gotta be one of the worse days of my life!" You exclaim as you slump on the sofa beside Mello. "I can't go with you. I've got a flat tire, and I have no idea why. Someone must've done it.."

"Who would do such a terrible thing? Especially to you, the devil no one else even bothers to approach?" Mello momentarily glances at Matt before taking a bite of his chocolate, which you then steals from his grip. "But don't worry, I gotcha. You can ride me... with me I mean! You can ride with me, NOT RIDE ME—good Lord I'm sorry."

'Aha, and there goes Matt's reminder that I shouldn't act awkward.' He looks away with a blush.

"I think [Y/N] is okay with either of that—"

You raise an eyebrow at Matt. "Oh, you mean you Mathematics. You can ride him all you want so don't be shy and put my name in your shoes."

"That's not—!"

"—ANYWAYS, Willy Wonka, you sure you okay with me riding with you? You won't mind?"

"Jesus, stop calling me that! And yes. You're my friend so I won't mind."

"Thanks mate!" To his surprise, you hug him from the side. And you are hugging him a little too much. "You know I've always wanted to ride your motor. It looks cooler than mine."

"Ah.. well— you're squeezing me a bit too much.. don't you think?"

You pull away and snicker. "Sorry. You're like a marshmallow that I just want to squeeze sometimes."

"EHEM. Pardon me, will you? I need to go to the restroom."

Matt stands up, thinking that his job here as cupid is done—or not quite yet. He has one last plan in mind. And even he isn't sure that that plan is going to make things better or worse.

"Enjoy taking another dump!" You shout as he leaves the room, making sure to lock it. Now you and Mello are completely alone, facing one another in utter silence. And it's too silent that you can hear some of the other mafia members arguing in a distant room. You can even hear someone moaning. Mello can hear it too.

You both give each other a look that only you two can understand.

"Oof. Must be nice. Err, so anyways," you start. "The usual place tonight?" And by that you mean stopping by to go atop a dilapidated building in a forsaken road to stargaze with him for ten minutes. You two make sure to always include going there to find tranquility in the stars and with each other. It temporarily removes all the problems and worries you have.

With Mello ruefully shaking his head, you frown. He puts an arm over your shoulder and nods reassuringly instead. You hide a smile.

"We can do that next week or earlier if we're not too preoccupied so don't be so glum. I'll be taking you somewhere new. I'm sure you'll like it."

"I hope so. Otherwise I'm gonna kick your ass."

"You'll be the one getting your ass kicked it if you don't give me back my chocolate right now."

"But I need chocolate too! Chocolate makes you happy. So I need it, 'kay?!"

"As far as I know that chocolate is mine and not yours???"

"But I'm your friend aren't I? You still have a lot of stock in there I'm sure."

"I'm running out of chocolates so give it back you little demon."

He hastily maneuvers before you can even stand up and try running away. He seizes your wrists and places your arms behind your back to prevent you from moving. Since you two are facing each other instead of him being behind you, the position is rather awkward. The proximity of your faces makes both of you blush and in an instance he backs away. You cackle in triumph as to his dismay of not getting his chocolate back.

You look at your wristwatch before taking a bite of the sweet. "Well Marsh-Mello, what are we waiting for? Let's hit the road! I'm already bored." You hold his hand the moment he stands up and you two run outside.

Mello throws the helmet to you which almost hit your face, earning an irked look from you. He then starts the engine as you wear your helmet.

When he starts to move just before you can take a seat, you panic. Of course he only wants to toy with you. He stops at a corner and waits for you, who's running and ready to smash his face. You pant as you finally reach him.

"You little bastard! Why'd you have to make me suffer?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You groan and then sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The closeness of your bodies make you both blush. He makes sure you're all set before once again driving in a high speed that made you hug him tighter. You've always known that he drives this fast, but to experience it yourself? It feels like your skin is being blown away and seperated from your bones.

"W-Would you mind slowing down, just a bit?"

"Come on [Y/N], that's not fun."

"So you call this fun? You're gonna kill us both. I'm too beautiful to die right now!"

"Tsk. You're no fun." You're about to make a rebuttal but he slows down reluctantly and matches the speed you will normally drive at. You sigh in relief and absently rests your chin on his right shoulder, looking at the stores, buildings, and a few people walking on the sidewalk which you are hastily passing by. On your left you see numbered vehicles and a few more buildings.

You're enjoying the ride, however, you hear the tire from behind pop. That is already bad, and worse comes when the front one pops too. He goes to the side before halting.

"Shit! Just our luck!"

"Haha seems like you and I share the same fate, huh? Goals."

Mello sighs as a realization dawns him.

'Matt.. you little shit.'

"Whadda we do now?" You worriedly ask.

"We're still halfway to the place I'm taking you and this happens.. I suppose I can just park this somewhere. You wouldn't mind walking, would you?"

"Sounds fine with me then."

He nods and parks the motor beside a bicycle and a car in front of a store, placing a tracker in it just in case it gets stolen. But if it ever does, he can just get another one. Legally or not. Doesn't matter.

In silence, you and Mello start walking side by side. Arriving upon a city bridge you can't help but stare at the river. The limit to what you can see on its side is a lively city despite the hour, with skyscrapers and billboard signs lit up. You can hear the occasional, distant sounds of car engines.

You avert your gaze back in the front, meeting chatty people on your way who are walking opposite to you and Mello. You realize that they're mostly couples who are matching clothes and openly talking, not caring if they're to be heard by others. Mello also notices, and not only that but the way you two undeniably look like one. Without any intentions, your clothes match. Not that it's a big deal since everyday you two wear black, but because of your surroundings, he might as well seize the opportunity.

Beaming from ear to ear, he holds your hand and intertwines your fingers together. You're confused, but at the same time liking it, a blush creeping on your face.

"Don't mind if I do. We don't wanna look like a couple who can't bear with each other after some kind of quarrel, do we?"

"But we're not a couple."

"No, not yet."

You stop and raise an eyebrow.

"Oop. Did I say that out loud? My bad."

He cheekily grins. It's only a joke, you think, but at the same time you wish that he's not joking—which he really isn't.

"Hey, how long are we going to walk?"

"Why? Are your feet giving up already? Want a piggyback?"

You completely turn red. He smiles at that.

"Nah.. I—"

"Don't waste the opportunity. I might change my mind later."

"I don't care. This is enough."

You squeeze his hand tightly—too tight that he swears he feel his phalanges breaking—but unexpectedly, he just moans. And people look at the two of you.

"The fuck was that?!? I didn't know you were some kind of masochist!"

"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD?"

"AHA so you do admit being a masochist!!"

"WHAT? NO! I'M NOT!"

"Why so defensive now?"

"Because people are hearing you???"

"Let them! HAHAHAHA! MY BOYFRIEND IS A MASOCHIST! ISN'T THAT CUTE??"

But after realizing what you just said, you stop and gnaw your lower lip.

"Oh earth swallow me right now.. Sorry! God I'm embarrassed. You're not my boyfriend—"

"Didn't I tell you? Not yet."

You punch his shoulder playfully. "Stop joking around! I might actually believe you ya know?"

"Who said I was joking?"

"..Of course you are—"

"—OH, here we are!"

He diverts the topic, leaving you to slightly pout to yourself as he turns left to an unoccupied and dark area, pulling you to the railing where you two halt and see the perfect angle to view the city and the river from. The water and its light ripples glimmer under the moonlight as the brisk wind hits your skin, making you slightly shiver. Mello notices this and takes off his jacket, insisting you should wear it instead. You don't argue.

"Mello, this is.. magnificent. And a nice spot to stargaze as well! It's pretty wherever I lay my eyes on."

"Except behind us, maybe. You don't like trees that much."

You cackle. "They give me the creeps, especially during night. But at least we don't have to face that way, do we?"

He shakes his head as he laughs, inclining himself closer to you. He places his hands just beside yours on the railing, looking up and then looking at you, who's still busy admiring the sky.

He can't help but smile admiring you in your adorable placidity.

"The stars are pretty tonight." You say as you notice him looking at you in your peripheral vision.

"You always say that. They're always pretty. Sparkly."

"Mesmerizing to look at." You add. He nods, still staring at you.

"That's why I love the stars.."

"Uh huh. And chocolate." You grin.

"And you."

You stand flabbergasted, daring not to look at him directly. Your heart feels like it's about to jolt out of your chest. Your fingers begin to tremble on their own as you feel something intangible whirling inside your stomach. You know what it is—and he's making your heart flutter. But you can't trust this feeling as you aren't even sure if he's joking or not. And if he is, you kinda hate it. You want it to be real.

"Aye, don't flirt with me. That's so not you." You snap, rolling your eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to perceive what's on your mind. He taps your shoulder before sitting on the railing, inviting you to join him. You're a little hesitant for the fear of falling to the water. And when it comes to this kind of thing, you don't trust Mello. You're sure he'll eventually push you. The number of times he had done this to you in some places before is something you can't even count anymore.

"C'mon [Y/N]. Don't be scared. I won't push you. Or if I do, you're free to drag me as well."

"Tch. So you do intend to push me." Nevertheless, you sit beside him and grip the bars tightly with your clammy palms. Luckily the concrete extends six inches after the railing.

Mello feels like you two aren't physically close enough, and he thinks it's not 'romantic' enough, so he slides even closer to you until his palm is already above your hand and your shoulders bump.

"Oh, no. You keep your distance, Mr. Wonka."

"It's not like we're having social distancing here you know?"

"You're too close."

"And I'm going to get even closer.."

He whispers, his hot breath tickling the side of your neck. You sigh and face him, and your noses bump. You urgently back away and you almost slip if not for him.

"What's gotten into your system for you to act so flirty all of a sudden?"

"You."

"MELLO!! I'm damn serious. Like, all the jests can wait but for now, just.. don't flirt with me. I'm in no mood."

"Aww, trying to shoo me away huh? After stealing my heart and my chocolates, here you are suddenly breaking my poor, poor heart."

"One more attempt and I'm going to drown you."

"Heeeeeeey. Don't be so vicious now." He softly bumps your shoulder with his. You only click your tongue in annoyance.

"Seriously. Stop messing with me. I hate you."

"No you don't. I'm not messing with you. I'm serious—"

"Tch. Serious my ass."

"..You don't have one—"

"See? You little fucktard. You keep on messing with me. So just stop flirting with me. I swear I'll kill you if you continue."

"Whaaat? Seriously, I'm not messing with you. You gotta—"

"Mels, no, no, no. You can poke fun of me, push me off right now or anything but just don't flirt with me. You're a bastard for torturing my feelings. That's not cool at all. Damn it," you spat. He keep his silence, his mouth starting to gape.

"Don't make me assume things because I really, really, really like you!"

The words pour out unbidden. Your voice resonates and immediately you shut up and look down with a furious blush.

'That's it, congratulations for possibly ruining your friendship.' You think as you bite your lower lip.

Your blush vanishes as the fluttering feeling in your chest does, being replaced with instant regret, as if your heart has dropped to your stomach.

The look of surprise in his face turns to a cheeky grin. With much glee, he chuckles.

"I've always known this devil is a pure softie inside..."

"M-Mello.."

You are about to tear up, but then he says, "Do you know what you just did? You ruined my plans, [Y/N]! But I suppose I can forgive you for that."

"What?? Plan?? Damn you, damn you, damn you! I knew you were up to no good! Damn it, Mello! Pretend this night never existed. I'm outta here—"

"No no, it's not what you think. 'I like you' was supposed to be my line, not yours!" He can't help but burst out laughing, leaving you momentarily dazed, but then when you realize what he possibly meant by that, it's as if your heart has come back to life. Your face turns red.

"I was going to confess to you tonight, but it looks like the tables had turned. You are a.. partypooper! Do you know how many times I've practice saying that in front of Matt, just to end up with you saying it instead of me? Unbelievable!"

He wheezes, catches his breath, then looks at you. "And look, I'm not complaining, alright? Haha.. but the way things turn out to be in the end is just so.. whimsical. But I'm gonna say it anyway: I like you. I like you a lot."

You scrutinize his facial expression just to be sure that he's serious, and you confirm he truly is. He's absently smiling, and just from staring at you is the reason. Rapture dances in his eyes. He looks genuinely happy and candid at the moment. And here you are left speechless, only staring at him as a sheepish smile slowly invades your face.

You almost lose your grip on the railing when he briefly kisses your cheek. And again, nothing comes out of your mouth.

"Do I also need to say that I wanna be your boyfriend? Because, isn't it obvious?"

"Mello..."

"No pressure, [Y/N]. If we both like each other but you're not yet ready for a relationship, I understand and I can wait."

"Well.." You hide your face on his shoulder because you feel like the longer you stare at him, the more probable it is that you'll faint. "Uhm.. Err... Have you ever been.. in a relationship?"

"No, not really. You will be my first one. If you accept."

You smile. "Well, same as you here."

"Really? I thought you already had a partner or two before."

"I had no time to be in love. Add that some of the people I was acquainted with sucked, and the kind ones.. well, let's just say that they seemed to be missing something.. something that, I suppose, only you have. And.. it will really make me happy if you are to be my first," you lift your head up to meet his eyes. "So I accept."

"You serious?? Right here?? Right now??"

"Need I repeat myself, partner-in-crime?"

"Haha! Course not!"

You peck his cheek as your warm smile broadens. You then rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes never leaving the distant city as he wraps an arm around your waist, meticulous so that you two wouldn't slip from the railing and fall down.

"I think it's safe to assume now that you're the one behind flattening my tires. And just so I can ride with you. You're a cunning man, so I suppose you also did something with your own scooter just so we could walk together, like couples in movies. Haha I never thought you'd think something like that!"

"It was Matt's idea. Swear. He thought it was more romantic that way. And he's probably the one who rigged my scooter. He really can be a huge pain in the ass sometimes."

"Like you are."

"Aw come on. Take that back you little demon!"

"Noooopeeeee! Pfahahaha— AAAA SHIT!"

And with that, you both plunge into the frigid water with a loud splash.

#death note #death note x reader #death note x you #death note imagine #mello x reader #Mello Death Note #death note mello #mihael keehl #death note fluff #anime x reader #character x you #death note x y/n #matt death note #death note oneshot

[sit-down-and-shut-up]

time- a. hotchner

SUMMARY: you get kidnapped lol

WARNINGS: kidnapping (duh), some injuries but everyone lives, aaron being m a d, and reader being a freaking baddie

WORDS: too many 6604

A/N: sorry that it’s been a hot minute since i posted, im lazy

Aaron glanced up as the workday finally drew to a close, watching you wave goodbye to the team and stroll towards the unit chief’s office, just in time to see JJ as she ascended the steps on her way to the room as well. You started to wave, but JJ murmured something you couldn’t make out and you stopped. Aaron’s blood ran cold, and he mentally cursed himself for being naive enough to believe that things would work out for once. He turned to look at Emily and Morgan through the blinds, who’d been talking near Emily’s desk, and saw their eyes trained on you and JJ. Emily swore under her breath, then headed to the conference room with Spencer and Derek not far behind.

+++++

Aaron sat down next to you in the conference room, meeting your eyes and giving you a halfhearted smile. You returned the gesture and went back to scanning the grisly photos before you. He zoned out as JJ spoke, giving the rundown on each of the girls that had been abducted, then murdered mere hours later. The murders seemed somewhat random, with the exception that the victims were all girls in their upper 20’s. In fact, they were all 29, just like you were.

Something clicked in your mind, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. You could feel Aaron’s steely gaze on you, and you wondered briefly if he could tell what you were thinking. You were lost in your thoughts, to the point where you didn’t hear Aaron’s deep “Wheels up in 30.” After everyone had left the conference room, Aaron turned back to see you still staring at the photos, searching for something you couldn’t quite name among the blood spatters and empty faces. He walked over to you and gently tapped your shoulder, causing your head to whip up to face him. Realization washed over your eyes, and you mumbled an apology.

Aaron shook his head in response, saying “I’m sorry. I was hoping we’d actually get to go out tonight.” You sighed, then replied.

“Who knows? Maybe the unsub will be caught by the time we get there and we can go get dinner or something.” You laughed as you said it, but your laughter was tinged with a resigned sadness Aaron despised, wishing he could take you somewhere you’d never be forced to feel this way again. Aaron watched you for a few seconds longer, as your face darkened and you grabbed your files and left the room, heading to his office, where both of your go-bags were. He wanted to tell you so much, but wasn’t sure how to start. He wanted to tell you that he’d been planning to propose this evening, that he wanted to be with you forever. But he couldn’t.

+++++

Aaron noticed you lost in your thoughts again on the plane ride while the rest of the team went over the case. The sheer amount of bodies was enough to give someone pause. In addition, the unsub took a girl each Thursday, but never kept them for more than a few hours. Why?

The plane ride felt fairly short. You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as the plane touched down in New York, where you’d gone to college years earlier, and worked before you were transferred to the Behavioral Analysis Unit and moved to Quantico. As you walked into the FBI field office with the rest of the BAU, you couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the last time you’d been in the building, when working a terrorism case alongside Agent Joyner four years earlier.

She’d been killed immediately by a bomb in your SUV, and metal had been lodged in your left leg, cutting the femoral artery and nearly causing you to bleed out. If not for your Aaron, you would’ve died there, on the cold pavement. When Aaron came to visit you while you recovered from surgery, you managed to slur out that you loved him. At the time, he blamed it on the drugs you were on, until he showed up at your hospital room again a few hours later, to drive you home. You’d suffered hearing loss as well, and coupled with your leg injury, you couldn’t go in the field or on the plane for a while. As he helped you up and handed you the crutches you’d be relying on for nearly a year, you met his eyes and said confidently, “I meant what I said earlier.”

He’d paused for a second, before his lips spread into a rare smile, and he said, “I love you too.” You’d always known the relationship wouldn’t be easy, considering his recent divorce and your unconventional jobs, but you were fine with it. Being with Aaron was good enough.

Present-day Aaron subtly placed a hand on the small of your back, a sign of encouragement he’d adopted over the years. You glanced up at him and nodded, silently letting him know you were okay. He dropped his hand, and held it out to the new director of the New York field office: Agent Milenka, an enthusiastic but imposing woman you’d met at the Academy when you were younger. You caught Morgan glaring at her for a second, reminding you that Morgan almost got that job. Still, you knew that Morgan loved you all too much to leave the BAU for a job directing the New York field office. The team was his rock, the weight that tethered him to reality when he was at his lowest. Aaron introduced Milenka to the rest of your team, until she cut him off when he got to you.

“I know her,” she declared loudly, “I was her firearms trainer at the Academy, but she had to show me up and be better with a gun than I am.” Spite dripped from her words, but the mischievous smile on her face told you she wasn’t really upset. Aaron nodded slightly, caught off-guard by her remark, then interjected to ask where his team could set up.

Agent Milenka led all of you to an empty conference room, with the case files already arranged neatly and a blank evidence board at the front of the room. She turned on her heel and stared firmly at the team. If you hadn’t known her for years, you’d assume she was going to attempt to assert control over the case, but instead she said, “My agents have come to see this office as a family, and probably won’t take too well to the fact that I’ve called you in. If any of them give you hell, tell me, and I’ll make the devil look like a cuddly teddy bear.” She pivoted on her heel to leave, then turned back around. “Agent L/N, my office.”

+++++

You were shocked, to be honest. This woman could bring grown men to their knees, and now she sat in front of you, spinning in a swivel chair, teasing you over your obvious infatuation with Aaron Hotchner.

“Really, Milenka, I gotta get back to the team,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Fine”, she grunted, making a shooing motion with her hand. “But here’s what I meant to tell you. I’m guessing you and your team want to know why it took this many bodies for me to call you in. I mean, I’d be wondering that, too. The bodies were all dumped two days ago, even though they’d all been dead for various amounts of time, so I’m guessing the unsub wanted to make sure I had to call you guys. Keep that in mind. He knows how this works.” The humor and mischief was gone from the agent’s voice, and in that moment you knew how she’d risen through the ranks of the FBI so quickly. Something about her made you want to do everything you could to solve the case as quickly as possible. She wasn’t someone you could let down.

You grimaced, then nodded, unable to say anything, and left her office, getting coffee from the espresso machine for you and your teammates as you walked back to the conference room. As you passed around the cups, Aaron watched you expectantly, obviously waiting for you to relay whatever information Agent Milenka had told you, and so you did. The reactions among the team members were the same, set jaws and darkening eyes. You didn’t know where to start with the case, until you remembered the idea you’d gotten back in D.C. You leapt from the black desk chair you’d just sat down in and practically ran to the evidence board, grabbing a red dry-erase marker and organizing the victim’s pictures from the first to the last to be abducted. You circled the eyes on some of the pictures, the hair on others, the widow’s peaks on some, and other various defining features.

“He’s working up to someone specific,” Spencer muttered as you worked. You whipped around, pointing a finger at him and downing the last of your coffee.

“Yes! Okay, so, look at this: The first and last girl are wildly different, but when you look at the chronological order of the victims, each one gains another characteristic that the next one didn’t have, like he’s working up to getting one specific girl, and kept killing those that looked increasingly similar to his real target!” You blurted the words, and watched as your teammates looked on in a mix of awe and horror, at both the board and a piece of paper Spencer had messily written on. Aaron, who was usually so emotionless, looked especially horrified, and scared. You shot Spencer a questioning look, and he held up the paper he’d shown the rest of the team. He’d taken the first letter of each woman’s name, and when lined up, they spelled out a message.

Your name.

+++++

“You’re off the case.” Aaron said, crossing his arms over his chest as you paced around the empty office he’d practically dragged you to.

“What? If some psycho is after me, I want to be the one to catch him!” You spoke firmly, almost yelling but not quite.

“If some psycho is after you,” Aaron started, sounding much calmer than you had, “I want you to be safe. Sending you out to hunt him down isn’t keeping you safe.”

You scoffed, then yelled, “As long as he’s out there, I’m not safe! If you let me help, we’ll find him faster. I can’t- no, I won’t- just sit here doing nothing while this man kills women just because he’s got some sort of vendetta against me!”

Aaron’s resolve broke down. You could tell from the way his back slumped and he pulled you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the feeling of calm it brought. Your anger dissipated when he held you like that, and he knew it.

He murmured, “I can’t lose you,” into your ear, and your heart broke from the way his voice cracked from fear and sadness. Aaron pulled away far too soon, and gave you a look that you knew meant to stay put, and pulled out his phone to call Penelope Garcia.

A few moments later, Spencer walked in, hands in his pockets. He looked unsure of himself, and you couldn’t figure out why until he said, “Hotch wants me to drive you to the hotel.”

You stared at him silently for a second, then mumbled curses under your breath and stormed out of the room to find your bag. Spencer put an arm out to stop you, then said, “He said he’d bring it for you tonight.”

You glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze to the suddenly interesting polished linoleum beneath you. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t be mad at you.”

Spencer gave you a small smile, and replied, “It’s okay. You’re stressed. We all are. Hotch just wants you to be safe.”

You nodded, and he led you from the building to the shiny, black SUV parked outside. Aaron jogged out of the building towards you, and grabbed the handle of the vehicle before you could. You met his eyes, and he murmured, “I know you’re mad at me, but I need you to stay in the hotel room, okay? Lock the door, and I’ll be there tonight with your go-bag.” You nodded, and he paused a second before saying, “I love you.”

Your pride got the best of you, and you simply muttered, “I know.”

+++++

You’d been sure that the SUV’s tires were full when you’d arrived in New York, but the flat passenger tire begged to differ. Spencer pulled into a nearby gas station to fill up the tire, something you were fairly sure he’d never done before. You couldn’t help but laugh when he called Morgan to ask what to do, who responded that it would be easier for him to come fill up the tire himself. You mouthed that you had to go to the bathroom, and Spencer nodded as Morgan’s laughter came through the phone. You stifled laughter as you walked into the gas station, grimacing at the smell of sweat and cheap hot dogs.

+++++

Aaron wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so mad. No, mad wasn’t the word. Was there a word that could encapsulate the unadulterated fury coursing through his veins? He paced the conference room like a caged lion, practically screaming at Spencer and Derek through the phone.

“What the hell happened?”

Spencer was crying, he could tell that much from the muffled sobs, and Aaron couldn’t help but think that he might never see you again. He slammed the phone onto the table with nearly enough force to break it, and looked up to see Emily, Rossi, and JJ already halfway out the conference room, before he’d told them what happened. The four of them slid into the two remaining SUVs. Aaron screeched out of the parking lot, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Rossi kept shooting him worried glances he pretended not to notice.

“We’ll find her,” Rossi said, “But you need to stay calm for us to do it.”

Aaron nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to work right now. If he tried to speak, he knew he’d probably cry. He pulled into the gas station just before Emily and JJ, and a voice in his head reminded him that this might be the last place you’d ever see. Rossi hopped out of the car, giving Aaron a sympathetic look as he did so.

+++++

The team had been at the gas station for almost three hours, interviewing customers, collecting evidence, and talking to workers. Multiple people reported seeing a woman similar to who Aaron described enter the bathroom, but no one saw her leave.There was a window in the girl’s bathroom that had been broken from the inside, with blood on both the window and the glass. The forensics team ran the blood, and it was all from the same person.

Aaron didn’t need to hear the results to know whose blood it was. Spencer tried to help, informing him that she hadn’t bled out because women had approximately 4.5 pints of blood and that was at most half a pint, but Aaron cut him off. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t listen to everyone talking about his girlfriend, the love of his life, as though she was already dead. He knew the odds, knew that she was almost certainly going to be dead within the first 72 hours, considering how the unsub had killed the other women.

He was going to find you alive. He knew it.

Because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t.

+++++

Everything was fuzzy and painful and oh my god what is that stuff coming out of your side and out of your hand and holy crap you can’t move you’re tied up what are you tied to what’s going on and-

“You’re even prettier than I remember.” The voice sounded familiar, but the only thing your brain could fully focus on at the moment was the excruciating pain. You felt a hand on your side, and then a searing pain that was somehow worse than the pain you’d already been feeling.

“You got a piece of glass in your side. I’m getting it out.”

You felt pressure on the spot, and forced your head to move so you could see what was going on.

He was wrapping your waist in some sort of bandage to staunch the bleeding. You forced yourself to look around the musty room you were in. You were seated in a chair, with your arms tied to the back of the chair by a coarse brown rope and a metal chain and heavy shackle attached to your left ankle. Your eyes followed the chain, to where it connected to a silver hook jutting from the wooden floor, which was coated in a layer of dirt.

Dirt.

You must be in a barn, or shed, or something. You definitely weren’t in New York City anymore.

You vaguely remembered what had happened in the gas station bathroom. There’d been a man waiting in the first stall, who jumped on you, shoving your head against the mirror hard enough to crack your skull. You figured that you’d blacked out, and he’d jumped the window with you in tow.

Then another memory washes over you like a tsunami, flooding you with regret.

Aaron said he loved you, and you didn’t say it back. Now, you might never get to tell him that you love him again.

+++++

Aaron removed himself from the case, leaving Rossi in charge. He knew he’d only slow everyone else down with the torrent of emotions dancing inside his skull. So now, he’s resorted to sitting in your hotel room alone, wishing he hadn’t told you to go to the hotel. He’d been crying for the first time in years.

Aaron had no clue what to do, and it gives him newfound respect for the families of abducted victims that he speaks to. He pulled the sparkling diamond ring he planned on giving you tonight out of his bag, staring at it and imagining it on your ring finger. It doesn’t make him happier, instead it just turns the steady stream of tears into a storm.

+++++

Morgan, Rossi, JJ, and Emily, seated at the silver table in the conference room, were going over every last piece of evidence they have, while Spencer made a map of the abduction sites as Agent Milenka told him the addresses. They already established that the victims were high-risk due to their above-average athleticism, and each victim was taken from a high-risk location. Spencer looked for any sense of a pattern in abduction sites, but couldn’t find one. Eventually, he sat down next to Morgan and Emily, defeated.

“So all we know is that he’s obsessed with Y/N, and that he wasn’t remorseful about the murders of the other women.” Derek sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, if he was able to subdue her, he most likely had the element of surprise. So, he probably isn’t physically strong, and needed that advantage to knock her out.” Rossi added, and Derek nodded.

Spencer looked up from the crime scene photos. “There’s no ligature marks.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, we went over that. So?”

“Why knock the women out and transport them if you’re just going to kill them immediately instead of holding them somewhere? Why not just kill them wherever they already are?”

Emily’s mouth fell open. “Practice. So that when he had Y/N, he knew exactly what was going to happen. But he didn’t want to ruin the rest of the fantasy by taking someone else where he’s planned to keep Y/N. He wants that to be special.”

“So we know he’s going to be holding her somewhere secluded, then,” Milenka chimed in.

After a few moments of silence, the phone rang in the center of the table, and the team members all stared at it for a few moments before Derek turned to the computer next to him, where Garcia was currently on a video call with the team.

“Can you trace this call, babygirl?”

Garcia nodded. “I don’t have a trap and trace set up yet, but I can get one, honey. Just gimme one second.”

Derek’s hand hovered over the button on the receiver to answer the call, and when Garcia affirmed that she was ready, Derek pressed the button. Instantly, a somewhat timid male voice filled the room.

“Where’s Agent Hotchner? I want to speak to him, not any of you.”

The team shared a perplexed look, and Emily asked, “How do you know who is here and who isn’t?”

“The window’s open.”

JJ ran to the window, then turned. “He’s there,” she said, pointing to a man directly underneath where the conference window was with a phone to his ear.

The rest of the team sprinted down the stairs and out of the field office, with JJ not far behind. By the time they got to where the man had been, he was long gone. No one near the area said they’d seen him, either.

Derek turned and punched the wall out of rage, while Emily cursed loudly. The rapid darkening of the sky didn’t help with trying to catch an unsub, either.

Dejectedly, the team returned to the conference room, where Garcia excitedly said, “Your man forgot to hang up for a few minutes! I don’t know entirely where he went, but I know the direction he was headed!”

“Where, Garcia?” Spencer asked, desperate for a lead.

“Straight west.”

Spencer looked to Emily, who said, “Let’s go.”

+++++

The team knew the unsub needed somewhere secluded to keep you, but couldn’t figure out where. He’d been on foot when they’d seen him, so it had to be somewhat close. Or maybe he’d had a car in a parking lot somewhere? There were too many variables. They needed Hotch.

+++++

“Drink.”

The man held a cup to your lips, but you kept them closed tight. After trying to force you for a while, he gave up. Sighing, the man ran a hand through your hair, forcing your head upright. For a serial killer, he was surprisingly gentle.

“You need your strength,” the man murmured, but you looked away when he picked up the cup again. He set it down, shaking his head, then pulled a knife out of the back pocket of his blue jeans. You knew better than to scream. It was likely that he craved your pain, so allowing him that satisfaction would coax him to continue. He walked behind you, to where you wouldn’t see him. You closed your eyes, praying for a quick death, praying Aaron would find you, praying you could see your team one last time.

But you didn’t need to.

The man cut through the rope binding your wrists, then left the room. He was rarely in the room with you, and you wondered what he was doing outside of it. For the first time, however, he came back within a few minutes of leaving. You could theoretically move if you wanted to now that the rope was gone considering how long the chain attached to your leg was, but you were weak and hurting. The last thing you saw before your vision went black yet again was the man standing above you with a syringe.

+++++

Aaron was with the rest of the team, visiting each abduction site for something, anything to help the profile, when the unsub called him.

“This is Hotchner.”

“I have her, Agent Hotchner, and I treat her better than you ever could. You think what she needs is a big strong man to control her,” he mocked, “But you don’t truly love her. No one could, except me.” Although the man’s words were confident, he sputtered out the words like an old truck engine. It sounded like he was reading a script, as though he’d had to plan out what he was going to say beforehand. As soon as the unsub finished speaking, the tell-tale click of the phone hanging up sounded.

Emily, who’d been walking next to him, stopped, pulling out her phone to contact Penelope.

“Can you get the rest of the team on the line? I think Morgan and Reid are at the Central Park crime scene, and JJ and Rossi are probably still by Times Square.”

Emily could practically hear Penelope’s smile as she responded, “Can do, gorgeous.”

A few keyboard clicks later, Penelope stated, “You’ve got me, Morgan, Rossi, Reid,and JJ.”

Emily took a shaky breath before saying, “We think Y/N knew the unsub.”

“What do you mean, knew?” Reid’s voice sounded.

“He claimed that he loves her more than Aaron ever could. He thinks he knows her better than us, so he probably knew her when she used to live in New York.”

“She went to college here, didn’t she?” JJ responded.

Penelope chimed in, exclaiming, “She went to John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Graduated top of her class.”

Morgan cleared his throat, then added: “Maybe the unsub didn’t know her, but thought he did. He could’ve been stalking her when she lived here, then kept tabs on her when she transferred to the BAU years ago.”

“He probably found out about Y/N’s relationship with Aaron recently, and that’s his stressor.” Rossi added.

Emily stared into the distance. There was something off about this. The theory made sense, but at the same time, it felt, well, wrong.

Agent Milenka, who’d been surveying the crime scene Emily and Aaron were at, sauntered over.

“I know who did this.”

Aaron met her firm gaze, confused and intrigued.

“Who?”

“There was this guy she met at John Jay, didn’t talk much, but he ended up applying to the FBI just because she did. He made it in a few months after her and got a job as a forensic analyst at our field office here. They worked together pretty often, and he was never too strange, but you got the feeling there was something off. He started acting weird after Y/N’s transfer to the BAU. I ordered another psych eval for him a few months ago, and he failed. I fired him, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Aaron and Emily shared a look, both hopeful and sad.

“What’s his name?”

“Ian Foster.”

Aaron nodded, murmuring a quick thank you, then turned back to Emily.

“Call Garcia. We need all the information we can find on Ian Foster.”

+++++

Your head hurt. You were somewhere different now; the dirty brown floor had been replaced with plush white carpet, and the chair you’d gotten used to was gone. Your left leg was still shackled, but this time it was attached to a shiny metal spike in the center of the room. You surveyed your surroundings, noting the vast difference between your current location and your past one. The chain attached to your ankle was long, probably meant to give you full access to the room you were in but keep you from leaving. The walls were white and spotless, along with the queen-sized bed behind you and the dresser and vanity along the far wall. You knew you must look out of place compared to the neatness of your surroundings, with your frizzy, dirty hair and torn, wrinkled, and stained clothes. You realized that you’d never checked your holster for your gun, and in doing so, found it empty.

Great.

Sun shone through the window on your right, and birds chirped happily, as if mocking you. They were telling you that they’re free, while you’re locked in this stupid white room.

Your captor walked in soon after you woke up, and you knew he must be watching you through a camera hidden somewhere.

“Drink.”

Your eyes searched his face, trying to understand who he was, now that you had enough light to see.

“Foster?” You managed to croak out through your parched throat.

Ian nodded, then grabbed your face with one calloused hand, forcing you to open your mouth so he could pour water in, which you promptly spat into his eyes. Instead of causing him to stumble, all it did was make him laugh.

“I see you’re still as fiery as ever.”

You clamped your mouth shut, pursing your lips and staring him in the eyes until he left. After he was gone, you tried to move your arms as much as possible. Your limbs felt heavy, like you were attached to weights, but moving was somewhat possible, a little bit at a time.

For now, that would be enough. You just had to pray that Aaron could find you.

+++++

Ian Foster’s paper trail was a series of dead ends, but Penelope Garcia, being the lovely omnipotent being she is, was able to find two properties owned by his dead uncle in upstate New York that he was likely using to hold you.

Aaron couldn’t describe the relief that wrapped itself around him, like a soft blanket, when Garcia chirped that she’d found where he was. He’d refused to allow himself to think that you might be dead, and the knowledge that now he had your location was sweeter than any candy could ever be.

He wiped a tear from his eye that threatened to fall, and cleared his throat, nodding at Emily and Agent Milenka, wordlessly signaling her to join him as he ran towards the SUV they’d been using. Emily followed, calling JJ and Rossi to give them the address as she ran. The first property, an old farmhouse, was about 40  minutes away from their current location, while the second one, a pretty two-story house, was about three hours away. Hotch, Emily, and Milenka, being farthest from both locations, were driving to the house, while the rest of the team would check out the farmhouse first then meet them there.

+++++

There was this feeling, blossoming in your chest, comforting you, whispering that Aaron was on his way. You’d learned over the years that your instincts rarely lied to you, and you hoped to whatever God there was or wasn't, that this wasn’t one of the times they misled you.

So you knew what you had to do.

You acted nice every time Ian came to visit, roughly every half hour.

Then, after five visits, you drank the water he offered willingly. Gently, Ian helped you up off the ground, a gesture that would’ve been comforting had he not been a serial killer. He moved his hands until they were lightly situated on your waist, and gazed into your eyes with the crazed fanaticism of a deranged man. He leaned in for a kiss, and the second he closed his eyes, you drove your right knee directly into his crotch.

Serves him right for being dumb enough not to fully restrain you. While he doubled over in pain, stepping back, you set up for a roundhouse kick that you placed to the back of his knee, knocking him onto the ground in an ungraceful heap. While he was on the ground, you punched him in the throat with enough force to knock the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for air on the ground like a fish out of water. Sending another kick to his temple for good measure, rendering him unconscious, you searched his pockets for anything that could remove the shackle from your leg. Eventually, you settled for a wire cutter that you used to cut off the attaching chain, but your clumsiness left an angry gash in your leg in the process. Limping from exhaustion, you ran from the room as fast as you could with the pain in your side from the glass that had been lodged there and the blood from the cut in your skull dripping down your face and neck. Your head felt fuzzy and faint, and you knew you were likely to pass out from blood loss any second. You repeated Aaron’s name in your head like a mantra, telling yourself that you needed to get back to him first, then you could pass out from pain. Every part of your body ached, screaming at you to give up as you stumbled down the creaky carpeted stairs, leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

As you neared the foyer, you heard the engine of a car, along with footsteps. The door flew open, with Aaron directly behind it, followed by Morgan, Emily, Spencer, Rossu, and a few agents from the New York office. Aaron’s eyes scanned the room before settling on you, bloodied and bruised, and he ran to you, gathering you in his arms while you whimpered like a child. He whispered things in your ear that you couldn’t make out as you let the blackness at the edge of your vision take over.

+++++

Lights. Murmuring voices. Were you still in that house?

You opened your eyes to see two people, one man and one woman, leaving the room you were in. There was a pressure on your hand that scared you, and slowly, you turned your head to see the source of the sensation, and you were greeted with what was quite possibly the best view you’d ever laid eyes on: Aaron Hotchner asleep at your side, desperately clutching your hand.

“Aaron?” You murmured. He was a light sleeper, so you knew the sound would most likely wake him up. When it didn’t, you squeezed his hand while murmuring his hand again. His head jerked up, and his tired eyes met yours.

“Y/N.” His voice was filled with so much anxiety, grief, and regret that your heart shattered, as he reached up to ever-so-gently caress your face, then kissed you softly.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” His words took the broken pieces of your heart and smashed them again with a hammer, until you were sobbing against Aaron’s chest. He held you, and let you cry, becoming painfully aware of his inability to help in times like this. His specialty was catching criminals, not helping people through the trauma, and he entertained the thought of asking JJ to talk to you for a fleeting moment, before deciding that he couldn’t let you out of his sight for the time being.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and lifted your head to wipe away your tears, but Aaron did it before you could. You stared down at your side for a moment, watching the blood that seeped through the bandage every time you took a breath, while you gathered enough courage to speak without your voice wavering.

“I’m sorry. You told me you loved me, and I didn’t say it back, and that could’ve been the last-”

Aaron cut you off with a kiss, murmuring against your lips, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You sat in silence with him for a while, leaning your head against his shoulder as he stroked your hair. Eventually, Aaron broke the silence.

“I saw what you did to Ian.”

You choked out a laugh despite the pain that ripped through you while doing so. “Yeah, I left him in pretty bad shape, didn’t I?”

Aaron nodded, smiling. “I’m proud of you. Most people wouldn't be able to escape a serial killer.”

“Well, I’m not most people, Hotchner.”

“That’s for sure.”

+++++

The rest of the team left for D.C. the next morning, but Aaron stayed to drive you home once you were discharged from the hospital. First, however, he dropped you off at the FBI field office to talk with Agent Milenka while he called Jessica to ask if she’d mind watching Jack for a few more days, explaining what happened to you. She practically viewed you as a sister, and after recovering from the initial horror, was happy to agree.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re alive!” Agent MIlenka called brightly as you limped into her office, bumping your crutched on the doorframe.

You chuckled. “Sadly, I am. Aaron told me it was you who figured out Foster had taken me. How’d you know?”

Milenka shrugged. “I may not be a profiler, but I sure as hell can tell when someone’s not right. The guy went almost crazy when you left New York. It just made sense.”

“But if that was his stressor, he would’ve started murdering earlier.”

“We thought at first that finding out about you and Agent Hotchner might’ve been the stressor, but it was impossible to tell when he’d found out, so we switched gears. I fired Ian a few months ago because he’d just been getting worse and worse, and eventually was a liability on cases. The last straw was him failing his psych evaluation. Maybe he felt that losing his FBI job meant he lost his last chance to be with you if he’d been hoping to transfer to your unit someday.”

You nodded slowly. “That’s around the time the kidnappings started, isn’t it?”

Milenka nodded. The two of you stood in her office in comfortable silence for a bit, until she stood up from her desk, crossing the distance between you and engulfing you in a nervous hug. She pulled away fairly quickly, most likely out of fear of hurting you, and awkwardly patted you twice on the shoulder. “Take care, Agent.”

“You too, Milenka.”

You turned to go, but stopped when you heard Milenka call, “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Hotchner’s a good guy. Don’t let that one get away.”

You merely offered her a smile, then strode out of her office as elegantly as one can with a limp.

+++++

The ride home was nice, full of easy discussion, laughter, and a few guilty looks that Aaron snuck at your stitched-up side, wishing he’d listened to you.

You made a joke he didn’t hear, and leaned over in your seat so you could wave a hand in front of his face, calling his name in a sing-song voice.

“Aaron, you good?”

Aaron shook his head slightly, rubbed his eyes, then turned towards you. “Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You hummed in affirmation, then turned towards the window. The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence, until you arrived at Aaron’s house. You spent practically all of your time there. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped foot into your apartment. Aaron helped you into the house and to your shared bed, where you passed out immediately. You vaguely heard a soft whisper of “sleep well” before you were out cold.

Aaron watched you for what felt like hours, feeling pent-up stress and anger roll off of him in waves as he silently stroked your hair, grateful beyond words that you’d lived. You murmured something in your sleep that sounded suspiciously like “I love you,” before rolling over to curl against his chest, nuzzling your head against the crook of his neck. And for the first time in days, he allowed himself a smile. Aaron basked in the rare feeling of relaxation, thinking about how nice it would be to bottle up this feeling and keep it forever, until sleep finally pulled him into its soft clutches. And for once, with you safely nestled into him, he slept easily. He still hadn’t proposed, but that was okay. Now that you were safe, you two had all the time in the world.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #crimnal minds #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #Penelope Garcia #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

#batfam #dc #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #oracle #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #batgirl #duke thomas #signal #damian wayne #robin #alfred pennyworth #comment your fav #or don't #maybe ill do one for the arrow fam #idk #im beginning to Lose It guys #quarantinelife #batsinquarantine

[curekibouka-writing]

Aftertaste (Twst one-shot fanfic)

Summary: By now, it should be too late. By now, it should be over. Yet one shred of sweetness persevered. (**Spoilers for main story episode 1 and Riddle's birthday story**)

Word count: 1134

A/N: Happy birthday Riddle (24/8/2021)❤️️🌹❤️️! Ugh gotta hate myself for thinking of birthday fics so soon before their birthdays I rushed this one somewhat.

*This fic is also on FF.net, Quotev and AO3

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

“Wow…!” The redheaded child knew no other words to say as the hands covering his eyes were removed. Colours so vibrant bursted around him, a fragrance so welcoming embraced him, and butterflies so unfamiliar fluttered in his chest. 

“Surprise-nya!!!” Chenya jumped out from nowhere, setting off a party popper right beside Riddle’s ear. 

Riddle seemed too surprised to be any more surprised. He turned to Trey, who had been tasked with bringing him here blindfolded, and was now standing behind him, satisfied with his reaction. 

“What is… this?” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“A party!” Trey answered, brushing away streamers and confetti in Riddle’s tresses, “It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” 

“Well, yes but…”

“Oh quit dilly-dallying-nya! We gotta get you paw-ty started before an hour ends!” Chenya ushered Riddle to a chair. Then he hustled to dump a birthday hat on Riddle’s head and to pour some juice for him.  

With mittens that were clearly too big for him, Trey brought an apple pie out of the kitchen. “Usually we eat cake on birthdays, but I wanted to let you try something fresh from the oven.” He began to cut a slice, “Well, technically we cooled it for some minutes, but it’s definitely crispy and the smell of cinnamon is still all over the place.” 

Apples and cinnamon, Riddle took a mental note, this pleasant aroma was of apples and cinnamon. 

“Go on, eat up!” Chenya pressed, his palms propping up his head, humming as he stared at Riddle, as if observing a small animal.  

Riddle nodded with a hesitant smile, scooping up a mouthful of rich crust and apples aplenty. He knew not what he was expecting when he took a bite, but the abundant filling that lingered on his teeth, the buttery flavour that enveloped his tongue, and the slight tang of spices in his throat, it was unlike any of the ten or so celebratory delicacies he had eaten for his past birthdays. 

One bite warmed his throat. The next warmed his chest. The third warmed somewhere deeper. 

Then, the fourth, his eyes. 

“W-what’s wrong?” Trey was quick to grab a tissue and dabbed Riddle’s eyes, “You don’t like pies? You don’t like apples? I’m sorry we didn’t have time to ask what you liked to eat.” 

“Nya~ I bet it’s the cinnamon!” Chenya placed his chin on Riddle’s head, “It’s purrfectly okay, I hate it too, just cough it out-nya.” 

“But I already adjusted the amount…… is the flavour still too strong, Riddle?” 

The younger boy shook his head insistently. 

“…For my birthdays, mother would always make cakes with lots of nutrients for me. I know it’s for my own good. And I know she puts much effort into finding out how to make them delicious. And… and I’m thankful…

“But this…” his fork clanged against the plate as his hands flew to scrub his eyes, “This is delicious too! 

“What should I do, Trey, Chenya……? My sentence has already been passed, and I’m not to be with you anymore. But I still love this, I love it here! One hour is not enough. One day is not enough. I want this for my next birthday, and the year after, and more and more… 

“Please… tell me,” he reached out for them, “when will we…” 

But once the hands covering his eyes were removed, he saw nobody. No colours. No fragrance. His hands grasped air, bedsheet, and sunlight from the window that used to bring him to wonderland. 

He swallowed the words he could’ve spoken, and felt the aftertaste still on his tongue — all that was left of wonderland, aside from the tears that carried through. 

He wiped his eyes with his pyjama. Just because it was his birthday didn’t mean he was entitled to disobey. His mother had turned down a mere strawberry tart, why should he even dream of more? 

But once you have one foot in, you cannot stop tumbling down the rabbit hole. 

What if they had never been caught in all these months? What if the two of them remembered? What if they specifically came to him today? Would the story unfold like in his dream? Would they prepare something else for him? 

He tasted sweetness in his mouth, with the freshness of apples and the smooth texture of butter. It tugged a smile on his lips. 

Then he tasted spices in his throat, hot and constricting, the heat swimming to his eyes. 

The aftertaste was delicious, yet it eluded his senses, no more than an ephemeral image in a child’s mind. 

He practically leapt off his bed, feeling like he would suffocate were he to remain wandering in the maze for too long. 

He tore a grid paper out from his immaculately organised shelf, this shall be a draft for his newest crossword puzzle creation. 

He was quick to jot down a 6-letter “sweets” across the 1st row, then “family” in the bottom right to mirror it. 

He tapped his pen on his chin. Perhaps this was too easy. 

To fill up the remaining 8 usable squares in the 1st row, he wrote “cinnamon”, aligned to the right. 

He wouldn’t want the player to solve it too quickly. 

He glanced at “family” in the 15th row, adding the 8-letter “fragment” on the left. Then starting from its “n”, counting 11 squares upward, he filled in “expectation”. 

Because if he could see them again, if he could proudly declare that he had created this puzzle just for them with the biggest grin they’ve ever seen and ask them to solve it, he would enjoy every moment of seeing them brood over it. And for once he would pour the tea for them, leisurely savouring every word exchanged in their long, long conversation as they sample scrumptious apple pies or strawberry tarts or all sorts of cake he hadn’t even heard of. 

One knock on the door and he tasted ice. “Riddle? Are you awake?” 

“Yes, mother,” he replied reflexively. 

“Good. Breakfast will be ready in 10 minutes, make haste. I won’t tolerate unpunctuality even if it is your birthday.” 

“I know, mother.” 

As he heard her walk away, he silently settled on the 11-letter word starting from the “i” in “cinnamon”. 

The time to wake up had long since passed. All the madness should be left behind in wonderland, by now, they are

“illusionary”. 

He set down his pen, turning to his closet to change out of his pyjamas. 

Yet one last shred of sweetness persevered. 

Briskly picking up the pen, he scribbled down one more word. He squeezed the pen for a moment, contemplating, then nodded in satisfaction and rushed to get himself ready. 

There, in the rightmost column, downward, 7-letters, sat the word 

“someday”.

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The End

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A/N: When I heard that he had made crossword puzzles wanting to let Trey and Chenya solve them, I just can't— 🥺

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