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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

Text

Stream Stresses-SBI Au

This is a Brother!Technoblade, Brother!Wilbur, Brother!Tommyinnit, and Father!Philza x gn!reader in the SBI inc Au. I hope that this is written how the anon that requested it wants it, but I’m not sure. So basically, the SBI is a real family dynamic, the thing is that all of Philza’s children, Y/N, Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur are all well known streamers and everybody’s fans know this and love the family dynamic that you four have, because you’re literally family. So yeah. Here you go, I hope you enjoy.

Check out my masterlist here!

When Y/N makes fun of their brother, chat jumps to his defense by saying some not so nice things about Y/N. The mean things cause Y/N to shut down their stream with tears in their eyes, worrying their father, Philza.

Y/N’s POV

“Hello chat!” I exclaimed, adjusting my headphones as people slowly began to flood the chat, “How are we today?” A variety of responses flew through my chat before my question was returned to me. “How am I today? I’m doing good! Thank you for asking!” My eyes scanned my notification and I couldn’t help but smile at the subs and donos rolling through. I quickly thank everyone by name before clapping, “Okay chat, today we are going to be playing Minecraft. But we’re not going to play on the SBI server, no we’re going to attempt speedrunning!” I explained. I eagerly watched my chat explode in support, a lot of ‘POGS’ flying by my eyes. “Well let’s get started, shall we?”

I quickly opened my Minecraft and adjusted my stream so that my viewers could see what I was doing. “What should we name the first world? Yes we’re naming them, what monster does not name their speedrun worlds?” Random names flew through the chat, until one caught my eyes. “Tommy! We’ll name this one Tommy so when it let’s me down it won’t be anything new!” I cheered, typing the name into the world box, giggling to myself. For the most part the chat found it funny, but I did see some people say some mean stuff for making fun of my brother.

I quickly cleared my throat and shook it off, “Here we go chat!” I exclaimed before loading in the world. I spawn in an acacia biome next to a desert, “So far Tommy’s treating us pretty good huh?” I joked, rushing over to a tree and punching it. I gained a bunch of wood and then began running through the desert in search of a village. I found one rather quickly and began my raid. I got everything from the chests and then found the iron golem and hit it to get it to chase me so I could build up and kill it… Only problem is I wasn’t quick enough.

I let out screech as the iron golem flung me up in the air, dealing a crazy amount of damage to the point where when I landed, I died. I gave a quick huff and pout as I exited out of the world. “Okay… What did I say, should have been expected to be let down by Tommy!” I exclaimed, my eyes scanning the chat. A few people laughed, but a lot of them were calling me horrible. They were saying that I shouldn’t blame my inability to play the game on my brother. It caused a pain to strike in my heart, because that’s not what I was doing at all. Really mean names began flying through my chat causing me to clear my throat and look away. “Um… Let’s try again,” I mumbled, creating a new world.

“We’re just going to keep going down the list” I announced, trying to bring my energy back up as I typed the name “Wilbur” into the world box before hitting ‘create world’ and loading in. I let my eyes dance back to chat that seemed to go back to normal, but there were still some really mean people in chat. This time I spawned in a plains biome next to a village. I got pretty far this time. I made it all the way to the nether, even found a fortress, but my excitement about it died pretty quickly… because I did too.

“NOOO!” I shouted at the ‘You Died’ screen. “I didn’t even see that blaze there! Damn it Wilbur!” I exclaimed, exciting out of the world once more. My eyes looked over to chat again, praying that the haters had gotten bored and left… My prayers were not answered. Instead, there were probably the most amount of haters I’d ever seen in my chat before. Every message was filled with hate. Telling me that I wasn’t good enough, that I should just quit, that my brothers were so much better than I was and there was no reason for me to even continue. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help the tears that formed in my eyes and began streaming down my cheeks.

“Ummm… Thanks for coming. I’m going to end stream now,” I sniffed, closing Minecraft and going to my streaming settings. “Bye,” I whimpered out before ending the stream. I sat there frozen for a minute before breaking down into sob. Why do they hate me?

*POV Switch*

Philza’s POV

A grin crossed my face as my phone lit up with a twitch notification. I quickly shifted my attention to my phone screen to figure out which child it was that was going live. It was Y/N! I quickly set up my phone in such a way that I could ‘watch’ their stream while I made dinner for everyone. “Hello chat!” I heard them exclaim, “How are we today!”

It really warmed my heart to watch my children stream. All four of them had worked extremely hard to get where they are today. I did everything I could to understand the Twitch community so I could support my children as they achieved their dreams. Sure it was hard at times, me trying to keep up with everything in all their streams but also when they’re all streaming at the same time and just screaming at each other, but we make it work.

My focus turned to the food that I was making. Footsteps entered the kitchen pulling my attention away from the stream, “Hey Dadza,” Techno’s monotone voice greeted me from behind. “Hello Techno,” I greeted back, throwing him a smile over my shoulder. “Is Y/N streaming?” Techno asked, walking to the refrigerator, pulling it open and grabbing a water bottle. I nodded my head at the question. “Yeah, they’re speed running,” I responded, turning my head back to the veggies I was cutting for dinner. Techno let out a hum before turning his attention to my phone.

As I cooked, I could hear Techno let out small laughs at what they’re sibling was saying on their stream. Twentyish minutes had gone by before Techno spoke actual words, “What the fuck,” He muttered, getting closer to my phone. “Language… What’s going on?” I asked, still focused on making dinner. “Y/N is crying,” He explained. My head snapped to my phone and sure enough, tears were streaming down their face. “Bye” they croaked out before the stream just ended. Not wasting any more time, I grabbed my phone and I ran out of the kitchen and toward Y/N’s room.

As I grew closer, I could hear sobs coming from their room causing my heart to sink in my chest. I gave a quick knock on the door before barreling in. Y/N was still sitting in their gaming chair, hunched over into themselves, their hands muffiling the sobs falling from their lips. “Oh honey,” I whispered, closing the door behind me. Y/N’s head shot up and their red rimmed eyes met mine. Another loud sob broke from their mouth causing my heart to hurt even more. I took a few quick steps forward to get to them and offer them comfort. Y/N rose from their gaming chair and fell into my open arms. I quickly wrapped my arms around them in a tight hug. “I’ve got you honey,” I murmured, “I’ve got you.”

At some point, I slowly made my way to their bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard, pulling them to sit across my lap, burying their face in my chest like all those years ago when they were a lot younger. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the afternoons that they and their brothers would go outside to play and ride bikes and they would come back in with scraped and bloodied knees and palms. I would pull them into my lap, dry their tears, and help them calm down. It’s a bittersweet memory. It feels nice to think back, but under these circumstances? Not so much.

Slowly but surely, Y/N’s sobs died down into simple sniffles before stopping all together. “You okay?” I questioned softly, leaning back ever so slightly so I could meet my child’s eyes. Their puffy ears peered up as they slowly nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be okay,” they muttered out resting their head back on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked carefully, not wanting to upset them again. A soft sigh left Y/N’s mouth, “I suppose I should. It’s best not to bottle it up,” they thought aloud causing me to smile just a little bit. A small bit of pride welled up inside me of how grown up they sounded.

The smile quickly faded from my lips as my child explained what had happened on their stream. How chat had turned on them and the mean things that they said. I could feel my blood begin to boil. I was extremely pissed at not only chat, but at the mods for not stopping it. But I had to remain calm on the outside, for Y/N’s sake.

“I’m so sorry that happened honey. You don’t deserve that. Nothing they said is true okay? You work so hard and it shows because you’re so good at what you do. Your brothers are good at what they do too. You guys are on equal playing feels and are all exceptional streamers. You deserve all good things honey. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to mod. You’re never streaming without me modding again. Do you understand me?” I rambled, staring at my child curled in my lap. A small giggle sounded in the air causing me to relax ever so slightly. “Yeah. I understand you dad… Thank you.”

Before I could respond, there was a small knock on the door. “Come in,” Y/N called, staring curiously at the door. It swung open and there stood my three other children peering nervously into the room. After standing in the doorway in an awkward silence for a moment, Tommy lets out a loud scoff before pushing his way into the room and crawls up on the best next to us. Tommy then surprises me by wrapping his arms around his sibling and gives them a tight squeeze, “You’re a good streamer Y/N,” I heard him mumble in his sibling's ear. “Chat can be just a little stupid sometimes.” Another giggle passes through their lips as Y/N slides off of my lap and sits in between Tommy and I. “Thanks Tommy,” they whisper back, turning their body to properly hug their brother back.

The closing of the door pulled my attention away from my youngest two. Wilbur and Techno were now also completely in the room and were heading toward the bed as well. I moved over so that one of them could sit in between Y/N and I and the other could go sit next to Tommy. Wilbur took the place beside me, sending Techno over by Tommy. Not saying anything, Wilbur turned his body and reached over and wrapped his long arms around Y/N and Tommy, trapping them in their own hug. For the first time ever, neither of them complained. Neither told him to get off, simply just accepted the affection from their brother.

And to my surprise and delight, Techno leaned onto Tommy and wrapped his arms around the two as well, his arms only able to wrap around Y/N. The four didn’t say anything as they laid in the cuddle pile. I couldn’t stop the tears that formed in my eyes. They hadn’t done this in years. Before Wilbur and Techno hit their teen years, the four of them would cuddle in piles like this all the time. When I couldn’t find any of them, I would only have to find one to find all of them. But once the teen years began, the two eldest felt that they were too cool to cuddle with their siblings and the piles came to a stop. It warms my heart to see them do this, even if it’s under really shitty circumstances.

One by one, their breathing evened out. One by one, they fell asleep. Once I was sure all were asleep, I slowly and carefully got off of the bed and managed to do so without waking any of them. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, made sure the ringer and flash were off, before snapping many photos. I didn’t plan on sharing them with everyone, they were just for me to have and to hold. Maybe I’ll print one and put it in my office.

I carefully slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me before heading back to the kitchen. The kitchen was exactly how I left it when I fled to Y/N’s room after seeing them cry. As quietly as I could, I put everything away. I decided I was no longer in a mood to cook. Besides, on days like today, I think Y/N deserves to have their favorite carry out… Don’t you?

I don’t know if I liked how this one turned out, so let me know what you think! Leave a like if you did enjoy it and maybe even reply or reblog or even send me an ask telling me what you thought!!

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redwinterroses · 3 years

Note

for requests how about: impulse, encountering some or all of the day one crew and getting Very Uneasy because oh shit, the 3rdlife memories are coming back hard

Hey! Sorry this took me SO long to finish. It was a hard one to write because between you asking this (I think?) and now, Impulse had that whole encounter with Bdubs on the path and I was like "Well I don't want to just write that" and then Cleo showed up? And I haven't ever written her before (except for a few lines in another hero, another mindless crime) so I had to go watch a ton of vids and streams and--

okay. Excuses over. Please enjoy this little "Impulse has a bad time but Friends Are Good" drabble. <3

~~~

Sweet Dreams

The Crastle was bigger than he remembered. Had this hallway always been here? This doorway? This arch that led to another hall…which branched and spiraled and led up stairs and down Escherian ramps in a labyrinth of stone walls and a floor dotted with pressure plates?

Impulse found himself running, breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he dashed down the halls, throwing open doors and darting around corners, leaping over the pressure plates—someone was chasing him.

They were coming for him, glowing red eyes and white teeth—fangs—glinting in the shadows. And over all, the ever-louder beat:

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It pounded in his ears, deafening, and he stumbled to cower against a wall, hunching with his arms over his head, trying in vain to drown it out. But no—no, it was even louder now, thumping so close it rattled his teeth, and he looked down to see blood spreading across his shirt and at the center where his heart should be: a golden clock embedded in his chest.

“They gave me a clock, Impulse.”

His head snapped up. Bdubs, eyes blank and red like two burning embers, stared down at him, no expression on his grey face.

“Ride or die?” Cleo’s voice came from behind him, and Impulse spun to see her glaring down the length of a crossbow, her eyes as scarlet and expressionless as Bdubs’. “How about… die.”

She fired the crossbow, the bolt exploding into flames that swarmed toward Impulse’s face—

He shot upright in bed, gasping for air. He swallowed hard, rubbing his chest as he gradually caught his breath. His heart pounded so loudly that for one horrible moment he thought it might really have been replaced with a bloody golden clock.

But no. Around him, the night was cool and dark, the silence of the Boatem village broken only by the faint rattling of a distant skeleton and the lowing of cows.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare.

Just another nightmare.

Impulse slumped back against his pillows, flopping one arm over his eyes and letting out a long, shuddering sigh in the darkness. It had been months since they’d moved on from the 3rd Life server, months of good times and laughter and the excitement of new projects and builds… and yet at night, when the voices of his friends faded away and Impulse was left alone with himself—he found himself back. Time and again, his sleeping mind returned to the Crastle, or to Dogwarts, or to the sandy dunes of the Red Desert. And inevitably, he found himself face to face with nightmare versions of his day-one crew: Bdubs and ZombieCleo, red-eyed and vengeful.

“I never betrayed them,” he muttered to the darkness. “Never.”

So why did he feel guilty?

Well. If he was honest with himself… it wasn’t really guilt. Or it was, but not because of anything he’d done in 3rdLife—no, the guilt he felt was because the primary emotion associated with Bdubs and Cleo in his dreams was fear.

These were his friends! Being afraid of them went against every instinct he had, every good memory and inside joke and shared experience. And that was a different world anyway—different rules, different lives. It didn’t change anything here on Hermitcraft.

And yet…

And yet when he saw that clock on Bdubs’ belt the other day, or when he’d come up out of the mines that first morning in Boatem and Cleo had been standing right there, Impulse hadn’t been able to suppress the rising wave of panic that swept over him. Panic over being caught in his web of lies, panic that he might hurt the only people he trusted, panic that they didn’t trust him—

Enough was enough. He needed to get past this; he couldn’t spend the rest of the season (the rest of his life?) having anxiety attacks whenever he encountered any of the other Crastle crew members. Talking with Bdubs on the trail had helped, but… he hadn’t seen Cleo since the first days of the server.

That needed to change.

Impulse threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, padding down the stairs to the main level of his house. Grabbing his communicator from where he’d left it atop the crafting bench, he tapped out two quick messages:

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: hey, can we meet up and chat? Spawn egg, around noon?

He set down the communicator and turned to go to bed, but to his surprise, it buzzed with an immediate reply.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: everything alright?

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: yeah sure, I just |

Impulse stared at the blinking cursor for a moment, then backspaced and started again:

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: not really. but it’s nothing major. just want to chat a few things over with you.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: Impulse it’s 3 in the morning. you wouldn’t be messaging if it wasn’t major. want to talk now?

He blinked. That… wasn’t the response he’d expected. He hesitated, finger hovering over the touch screen.

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: sure.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: i'll come to you.

///

Impulse was waiting on the roof when Cleo arrived, swooping in with the dry rustle of elytra wings to land on the cobble-and-slabs rooftop.

He looked up at her with an automatic smile, but she didn’t even wait for a “hey” before plopping down beside him.

“Alright, Impulse,” she said, her brisk tone ordering, rather than inviting him to speak. “What’s going on?”

Pulling his knees into his chest, Impulse wrapped his arms around his legs, the cobblestone beneath him still radiating a bit of warmth from the day’s sun.

“I…” he let his voice trail off, not sure where to begin.

“Out with it.” Cleo held out her hand, palm up, as if waiting for him to drop something into it. “Spit it out. It’s not gonna get any better for stewing on it.”

This was a dumb idea. Impulse closed his eyes and, before he could talk himself out of it, let the words spill out in a rush:

“I keep having dreams. Nightmares. About being back… back there. At the Crastle, mainly. And, ah—” he chuckled nervously and opened his eyes, looking sideways at Cleo. “You and Bdubs are there. And you’re… mad. Yeah, you’re really mad. And you don’t trust me. And—" he took a deep breath. “I keep dreaming that you’re so mad you kill me.”

Cleo tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “But we didn’t. Well,” she corrected herself. “I didn’t.”

“I know, I know—it’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense, and I know that, but…” he swallowed, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I need to get it off my chest. Because even thought I know it’s not real, and I know this is an entirely different world, and I know that nothing from that server really changes anything, I can’t just… turn off what my brain does when I’m not paying attention to it. You guys are my friends and I’m getting real tired of feeling like I need to start running every time I see one of you. To be honest, sitting here right now even is making me antsy.”

Overhead, the stars continued on their paths in silence, and somewhere in the village a couple of sheep baa-ed at each other plaintively.

“Well. That’s… something. That’s certainly something, isn’t it.” Cleo was quiet for a moment, examining him. Impulse looked away, suddenly finding his fingernails deeply interesting.

“Impulse.”

She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, and he instinctively flinched away. Cleo raised both eyebrows at him this time, pulling her hand back—then deliberately replacing it, her fingers cool and firm through the thin fabric of his sleeve. “Impulse,” she repeated, her tone gentle but brooking no argument. “You… you know I’m not good at this stuff. But at the risk of getting in way over my pay-grade: we’re good. We’re your friends.” She gave him a shake. “We love you, you idiot. No amount of murdery games on another server gonna change that.”

Impulse gave a little laugh, pretending neither of them could hear the emotion that made his voice catch in his throat. “Wow, Cleo,” he said. “Love. Big word.”

“Bah.” She shoved him away, throwing her hands in the air. “I love everybody, you’re not special.” But there was a grin in her voice. “And anyway—why me? You’ve got a lotta nerve, Impulse, having nightmares about me killin’ you.”

“Hey, you were scary with that crossbow.”

“I was, wasn’t I.” Cleo sounded satisfied about that.

The knot in Impulse’s chest was slowly loosening, and he glanced over to see Cleo leaning back on her hands, staring up at the sky. The faintest tinge of pinkish-grey was starting to appear on the eastern horizon. The Boatem crew would be up and about soon—Grian in particular had a tendency to be up at an ungodly hour of the morning.

“Hey—” Impulse said, lowering his voice again. “Um. Thanks. For swinging by. Sorry for being weird about all this.”

“Impulse if you start apologizing for being weird you’re never going to stop.” She made a face at him. “Because you’re very weird.”

“Thaaaanks.”

Cleo gave him an easy punch on the shoulder. “You know you adore me,” she said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I can promise you this: I will kill you again at some point, I’m sure. And it’ll have nothing at all, whatsoever, to do with Third Life: it’ll be because you deserve it.” She paused. “Or because I just want to.”

Somehow, out of all the things she could have said, a casual threat of violence was the thing that did the trick. Impulse laughed—out loud, for real, a genuine laugh that shook loose the tension in his shoulders and chased away the phantom of Cleo standing over him with a crossbow.

“Thanks, Cleo.”

Cleo stood, and patted him on the head, ruffling up his hair. “There’s the obnoxiously-cheerful Impulse I know and loath,” she teased. “Can’t have you being all maudlin over here—I’m the gloomy one on this server.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Impulse asked, smoothing down his hair and also standing.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. You know me—I don’t do the sleeping thing much. Too much work to do: graves to dig, bodies to—” she grinned darkly “—find. ‘S a lot for an entrepreneuring zombie like myself.”

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to it.” Impulse tried to stifle a yawn. He wasn’t entirely successful.

“Go to bed, Impulse,” Cleo laughed, activating her elytra. “And try to only have normal nightmares about me for a while. Ya know—ones where I’m properly zombie-terrifying, not this Crastle nonsense.”

“I’ll do my best.” He watched her fly off, and yawned again, this time wide enough to pop his jaw.

Alright. Let’s try this one more time. Sleep.

He left the roof and reentered his house, which suddenly felt much more cozy and far less empty and cold than it had when he’d first awakened. Sliding back under his blankets, he tugged them up around his ears and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Something exploded outside, and his eyes popped back open.

Maniacal laughter echoed over the hills of Boatem, and Impulse deliberately rolled over, burying his head under the pillow.

Tomorrow’s insanity would come soon enough. For now: sleep.

((sweet dreams, Impulse.))

#here have some impulse hc #as a treat. and because impy deserves it #redwinterwrites #sweet dreams #impulsesv #hermitcraft

113 notes · View notes

okaywa · 4 years

Note

Hello can i request a scenarios for Kuroo, Oikawa, Bokuto who is dating with top volleyball player and when they tell it to the team, they just laugh or called him delulu but one day his fem!s/o shows up and the rest of team are like *shocked pikachu face*

Yessss bb!! This is a really cute request :)

Kuroo

With Kuroo I think he’s going to mention you so much that his team thinks he’s making you up to sound cool

He’s always bailing on hangouts bc “I’m hanging out with my girlfriend today.”

“Sorry, can't come to the study group because im studying with my girlfriend.”

“Me and my girlfriend went to this really good place the other day-”

Until finally his team decides to call him on it

“Oh let me guess,” Yaku says. “She goes to a different school?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Kuroo blinks

Even Kenma’s laughing now. “What’s her name then?”

“Y/n Y/ln, she plays volleyball too,” Kuroo grins.

“THE Y/N Y/L/N?!” Yamamoto yells. “Now I really don't believe you.”

“Who’s that?” Lev asks, looking around.

“She’s the top ace in the women’s division,” Yaku answers, squinting at Kuroo.

“And, super hot,” Yamamoto sighs. “I want her to spike a ball directly into my face.”

“I am never bringing her here,” Kuroo decides, watching Yamamoto practically drool.

“That’s convenient,” Kenma mutters under his breath, running away before Kuroo can make him practice more serves.

“Ah, Tetsu-chan!” You wave energetically from across the gym. “Did you just finish your game?”

Kuroo catches you easily when you jump at him to hug him, hefting you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. He sets you down after a moment, taking in your flushed appearance and uniform.

“Yeah, did you?”

“Yes!” You’re practically bouncing. “We won! We’re going to semi-finals!”

“That’s my girl,” Kuroo grins, accepting your high five. “Us too.”

You wrap him up in another excited hug, rambling about your spikes from your game until someone clears their throat.

“Uh, Kuroo?” Lev asks, poking his shoulder.

“Oh, Lev,” Kuroo steps to the side. “This is my girlfriend, Y/n Y/ln.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you beam, shaking his hand eagerly.

Lev stammers out some sort of greeting before backing off and running to get Yaku.

“That was weird,” you blink. “Is he always like that?”

Kuroo is smirking mischievously. “Just about.”

“Kuroo! You were being serious?” Yaku stomps over. “Why didn’t you say?”

“I did. Repeatedly,” Kuroo snickers. “But you all said I was lying because she goes to a different school and is out of my league.”

“I mean, she is,” Yamamoto scoffs honestly, stepping forward to shake your hand. “Hi Y/ln-san, I’m a big fan.”

“Back off, you pervert,” Kuroo growls good-naturedly.

After meeting the rest of his dumbstruck team Kuroo drags you down the street to a small cafe for some postgame food.

“So, I’m out of your league, hm?” You ask, nudging Kuroo’s foot under the table.

“Uh, yeah,” Kuroo says. “Was that not obvious?”

Oikawa

After his last less than pleasant relationship he decides to keep you on the DL for a little longer than he usually would

So when he tells Iwaizumi who he’s dating, the guy can’t help his loud laughter

“Yeah, right Oikawa. I get you’re a hit with the ladies but I don’t believe that for second!”

He’s laughing so hard the rest of the team is starting to notice and wander over

“What’d Oikawa say that’s so funny?” Mattsun asks

Iwaizumi straightens up, wiping his eyes while still chuckling

“That he’s dating Y/n Y/ln,” he manages to get out before he doubles over again “And has been for the last few months.”

“Y/n Y/ln as in the number one libero in the women’s division?”

“Yes” Oikawa crosses his arms.

Oikawa glares at Iwaizumi, his expression growing increasingly offended when the rest of his team joins in with Iwa-Chan’s boisterous laughter

“Why would I lie about this? You guys are being mean!”

“I guess we have to start calling you Lyingkawa instead of Stupidkawa,” Iwaizumi wheezes,

Oikawa huffs, “Get back to practicing your spikes before I make you all run a mile.”

Is this the right gym? You look at Oikawa’s text again. He’d sent you his address just in case his practice ran a little late and this did seem like the right place. You peak through the window, grinning when you spot him.

Deciding it’s best not to distract him, you slide into the gym quietly and settle in a chair next to the door.

“Oh, are you looking someone?” One of the players asks.

“I’m okay, just waiting for Oikawa to finish up,” you replyr.

The spiky-haired man nods and then freezes, eyes growing wide. “Oikawa- hold on. Y/ln?”

“Erm, yes,” you smile. “Iwaizumi, right? Oikawa talks about you constantly. It’s always ‘mean Iwa-chan did this’ or “Iwa-chan hit me with a volleyball!” Iwaizumi flushes. “I’m sorry, I didn't think he was being serious when he said you were his girlfriend.”

“Y/n-chan!” Oikawa runs across the gym. “You’re early!”

“No, Tooru, you're running late,” you correct him with a knowing smile, standing up to kiss his cheek.

Oikawa blinks and checks the time, face falling when he sees the time. “I didn't realize.”

“Don’t worry, love, I was expecting it,” you laugh softly.

The rest of his team has walked over during the exchange and were currently exchanging varying expressions of shock and confusion.

“Oh, I’ll introduce you,” Oikawa beams, taking your hand. “Team, this is Y/n Y/ln. My lovely girlfriend!”

You wave, an easy-going smile on your face. After all, Oikawa talked about them so much it felt like you already knew them. “Nice to meet you guys.”

“You’re actually his girlfriend?” A light haired boy asks.

“Makki,” Oikawa scolds. “Don’t be rude.”

“I take it Tooru hasn't mentioned me,” you laugh, shouldering your boyfriend with feigned offense.

“No he has, we just didn't believe him.” Mattsun admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

Oikawa shoos them away after that, insisting he has places to be.

“So,” you hum, now at the ramen shop. “Care to tell me why no one believed I was your girlfriend.”

Oikawa snorts. “Because they think, and I’m dead serious, that you're too cool for me. Being the number one libero and all that.”

“Well, at least they were right about that,” you sigh.

“Not you too!” Oikawa pouts.

Bokuto

Now like Kuroo he talks about you to the team except even more. He is constantly gushing about you and how you both play volleyball and how talented you are

The only reason his team doesn’t believe him is because they can't imagine someone other than Akaashi being able to handle Bokuto

So they think you probably consider him as just a friend and he’s definitely overthinking the friendship y'all have

“So, Bokuto-san, do you have plans?”Akaashi asks as they clean up after practice.

“Yeah! I’’m going to Y/n’s house and we’re watching movies.” He says excitedly

“Y/n, your girlfriend,” Akaashi says slowly. He knows how excitable Bokuto is and doesn’t want the guy getting his feelings hurt bc he misunderstood the situation

“Yes, my girlfriend,” Bokuto replies. “Have I not mentioned that?”

“No, no, you have.” Akaashi hums. “Are we ever going to meet her?”

“Her schedules pretty busy considering she also plays volleyball.”

“Are we talking about Bokuto’s ‘girlfriend’ again?” Konoha walks over with a shit-eating grin. “What position does she play?”

Bokuto perks up, happy to brag about you. “She’s a setter! She’s super good, like one of the best in the women’s division.”

Akaashi pauses, quickly connecting the dots. “Y/n Y/ln?”

“Yeah! You’ve heard of her?” Bokuto tilts his head.

“Uh, yeah, Bokuto-san. She’s the number one setter in the prefecture.” Akaashi says, looking back at Konoha. Akaashi actually enjoyed watching her matches to get ideas for his own setting.

“She’s your girlfriend?” Konoha asks incredulously. “Like, girlfriend girlfriend.”

“Yes, I’ve said that,” Bokuto smiles, walking away oblivious to the doubtful look shared between Akaashi and Konoha.

The entire team knows Bokuto’s got another date after practice because he keeps mentioning it every chance he gets. Akaashi and Konoha share a look every time Bokuto talks about you, 15 times and counting. They’re still convinced Bokuto has completely misread the situation and are tense at the prospect of meeting you.

“Hey, hey, hey! Y/n!” Bokuto yells excitedly, immediately dropping the ball he was going to put away.

He rushes across the gym and sweeps you up in a hug that pulls you off your feet. “I already know where we’re getting food, okay? And I found this milkshake place that looks super yummy.”

“Kou, please put me down,” you giggle, tapping his shoulder. “I'd like to meet your teammates.”

“Oh, right! Of course,” he sets you down, still grinning excitedly. “Guys, this is Y/n. The girlfriend I’ve talked about so much.”

So, he’s actually got a girlfriend, Akaashi thinks with a small smile. He’s relieved that Bokuto hadn't been confused.

“Y/ln-san, its really nice to meet you,” he says. “You’re an excellent server, I enjoy watching your games.”

“Oh, wow,” you flush. “That’s super flattering, thank you, Akaashi.”

Bokuto beams, glad to see you and his best friend getting along. The other teammates file through with their greetings until Bokuto is bouncing with impatience.

“Okay, okay let’s go eat! I’m starving,” he complains, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the gym.

“Bye, it was nice meeting you all!” You manage to wave goodbye as Bokuto pulls you away.

“So, he’s actually got a girlfriend.” Konoha comes up beside Akaashi. “I’m kinda jealous. She’s a catch.”

“She seems good for Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says thoughtfully. “I’m happy for him.”

2K notes · View notes

hotpinkhoshi · 3 years

Text

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth.

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense.

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him.

“Yeah.”

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective.

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?”

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused.

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.”

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended.

Youngjae snorted.

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows.

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most.

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice.

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.”

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next.

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months.

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.”

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction.

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face.

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.”

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?”

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.”

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?”

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled.

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could.

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal.

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours.

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud.

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do.

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance.

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse.

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun.

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.”

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-”

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?”

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for.

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.”

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up.

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…”

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up.

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed.

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.”

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom.

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-”

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not.

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat.

“Same for me,” Mark agreed.

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!”

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh.

“What?” you asked.

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back.

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks.

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down.

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.”

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them.

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds.

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more.

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.”

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.”

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line.

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed.

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world.

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was.

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes.

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first.

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?”

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.”

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone.

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.”

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch.

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.”

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked.

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents.

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him.

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure.

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?”

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it.

“Both of us. Just trust me.”

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him.

“I’ll even go first,” you told him.

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion…

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask.

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask.

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…”

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought.

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?”

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…”

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding.

“Okay.”

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

��Oh, come on, you big baby!”

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times.

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!”

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists.

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist.

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek.

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing.

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder.

“Mark! Stop it!”

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away.

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs.

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you.

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest.

“Y/N,” Mark whispered.

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled.

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch.

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat.

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could…

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing.

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this.

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin.

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise.

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before.

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.

Maybe he had a sixth sense.

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet.

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice.

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left.

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him.

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard.

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night.

#mark tuan #got7creators #kibfic #got7 fanfic #mark tuan fanfic #mark tuan angst #mark tuan fluff #got7 mark #got7 imagine #writing

407 notes · View notes

redorich · 3 years

Note

Soooo.... is there more of that Hermit!Tommy battle?

here’s the last part :)

Xisuma stalks through the rubble of the Dream SMP, armored boots crunching on gravel and broken glass. Fundy, as far as he knows, is still face-down in a river somewhere. As rain pours down his visor, seeps into the cracks, and sparks his electrocuted skin, Xisuma wonders what’s drawn him to water so much today; here he stands, watching the water below him churn underneath the docks and eat away at the shore. Xisuma himself stands high above it all, atop a small, jagged mountain.

He hears the tell-tale shing of a riptide trident. Thank every star in the void-- if Xisuma has to deal with a channelling trident right now, after his last fight, he thinks he may just sit down and quit. Even though he can already tell who’s behind him from their warped presence alone, Xisuma turns wearily to face his next opponent.

Dream stands before him, breathing oddly in a way that indicates at least one cracked rib. His mask is shattered, and more of his face is bloody than clean. From the looks of things, Techno must have scratched him on the thin skin above his eyebrows. Xisuma knows intimately how that wound bleeds profusely, how it gets into one’s eyes and makes it impossible to see. Dream’s obviously coming down from a potion high, and his netherite chestplate is in shambles.

"So much for 'Technoblade never dies', huh?" Dream says confidently. Xisuma can see right through him; despite Dream's easy smirk, he's barely able to stand.

Xisuma's long past the point of asking nicely for his opponent to surrender. He says nothing, and a purple glow oozes up from out of the ground; the stone beneath the men's feet is overlaid with a runic circle: a tell-tale sign of admin magic.

Dream's not as experienced in admin magic, but he's an excellent fighter. Instead of meeting Xisuma's magic with his own, Dream bursts forward in a bout of speed that causes his fractured ribs to shriek in protest, and knees Xisuma solidly in the solar plexus. The hermit wheezes and his runic circle falters, but he does not respond. While he pours all his being into this work of admin magic, Dream is free to ravage his physical form, already battered as it is by Fundy. Dream’s axe is long gone, as is his sword, but his fists are more than enough.

“So you’re just going to give up?!” Dream demands. “You won’t even bother to fight me head-on, you’ve got to waste all your energy on some magic attack that won’t even work? I’ll kill you before you can set it off. You’ll have died for nothing. All your people will have died for nothing.”

Again, Xisuma says nothing. Rage bubbles up from deep inside him. He allows Dream, the vile admin, to rain strike after strike upon him while Xisuma musters the power necessary for his magic attack. Fuck Dream. If Xisuma focuses enough, he can convince himself that the rain hurts worse than any pain Dream can inflict. Even as Dream claws at Xisuma’s throat, digs his fingers into already-bleeding wounds, even as Xisuma’s vision grows steadily darker, the electricity sparking through his veins keeps him wide awake. He will win this fight-- there is no “or die trying”. He will win. He will survive. He will persevere. He will...

Xisuma stumbles. The magic circle dims for a moment. How long can he keep this up?

“Just die already!” Dream growls out. “There’s nothing you can do--!”

From high in the sky, obscured by inclement weather, a red blur divebombs rapidly and throws all its weight into kicking Dream in the head. He falls like a stone, groaning. “What the fuck..?”

Grian stands proudly, elytra fluttering in the harsh wind. Behind him, Tommy launches up into the air with a riptide trident and lands at Grian’s side.

Dream’s mind is overheating. It’s firing on all cylinders and then some, trying to process and calculate everything. Tommy’s escaped from prison. He’s got a trident, but no armor-- Grian must not have had a spare set, and as it is Grian’s vulnerable because he’s wearing an elytra instead of a chestplate. Damn it, why didn’t he keep track of the sky? How many other enemies are hidden within the dark storm clouds? Can he kill Xisuma before Grian attacks? Does Grian have a weapon? He must have been the one to give Tommy the trident, but Tommy’s been away from where he belongs-- under Dream’s heel-- and Dream can’t predict whether or not Tommy will attack him.

“Hello, Dream,” Grian says mildly, breaking Dream out of his own head. It’s an almost friendly tone, but it still sounds ominous.

Dream is instantly proven right when Grian holds out his hand for Tommy to return the borrowed trident. The moment the weapon touches his fingers, he yanks Tommy in front of him, pins him in place from behind, and holds the deadly gleaming trident prongs to the teen’s neck.

“Grian, what--?!” Tommy yelps, then whimpers when Grian roughly jostles the trident.

“No,” Dream breathes. His heart drops into his stomach. “Don’t you dare.”

Grian smiles. “You were right, Dream-- I never cared about Tommy. None of us did. We hermits always want what we can’t have. Diamonds are too easy for us. Netherite means nothing. We saw Tommy, and we knew he was running from the man who owned him. Now we own him. And I’m the one who gets the privilege of killing him, so you can never have him!”

Dream’s face, bare as it is, is painted clear to see with fear. Horrified, he wheezes through his pain with wide eyes. He’s still on the ground.

“Do you have anything to say, Tommy?” Grian asks sweetly. “Any last words for Dream?”

Through teary eyes, Tommy looks down at Dream. He bites his lip, fists his hands in the spare fabric of his pants. “Dream...” he says hesitantly, then grins widely. “Get fucked, green boy!”

The purple runes at their feet flare brightly. Dream snaps his gaze to Xisuma, who has gone completely forgotten in the whirlwind of revelations. Tommy and Grian, who Dream now understands faked the whole hostage situation, both tackle him to keep him from exiting the magic circle.

Dream wakes up when he does not remember ever losing consciousness. He's still in the exact same position was was in last he remembers, so he can't have been out for long. There’s a beat-up guy in armor, a guy in a red sweater, and... Tommy. Oh Lord, Dream thinks, what has he done?

He looks down from the mountain and sees blood and bodies everywhere. He did this. This is his fault.

“Stand down!” he yells as loud as he can. It’s not like it’ll make much of a difference; there’s not many people left alive to stand down.

Grian edges closer to Dream, who still hasn’t gotten up. Dream doubts his legs will support him.

“Hey, shh, we can fix this,” Grian says.

Dream fists his hands in his hair, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. “There’s nothing left to fix! Why aren’t you killing me? Your people are dead, too!”

Xisuma flinches, but Grian’s face hardens slightly. “You’re the admin here,” Grian says, “all you have to do is bring them back.”

“But-- but they-- canon lives--”

Tommy interrupts Dream. “Canon lives?! Who was it that came up with the idea in the first place, huh? Was it you?”

Dream’s shoulders slump and he hangs his head in defeat. “...Yes.”

Grian slaps him upside the head. It’s not hard enough to do any damage, but Dream is already so wrecked that it sends his head spinning.

“Idiot,” Grian says. “It was the dreamon, not you. Nothing’s stopping you from reviving everyone.”

“They’ll just start fighting again,” Dream says, grasping at straws.

Xisuma shrugs, though it looks painful. “Then turn PvP off.”

“...They’ll kill me. I’d deserve it.”

Tommy puts his arm around Dream’s shoulder, helping him sit up all the way. This is so fucked, that the kid-- literal kid-- Dream tortured and manipulated is showing him pity.

“It wasn’t you, who did those things,” Tommy says, as though he can read Dream’s thoughts. Perhaps he can. Dream’s face is very expressive, he knows; it’s part of why he wears the mask in the first place.

“It was, Tommy. You of all people should understand this, you should hate me the most! I remember everything I did to you,” Dream cuts himself off, takes a ragged breath, and continues. “I remember planning out what I did, feeling satisfied with it, the blood was on my hands.”

Tommy frowns sharply, though his arm still hasn’t left Dream’s shoulders. “So that’s it, then? You’re too much of a pussy to even try? If it’s really your fault, then you should be the one to fix your mess.”

Now that, that Dream can understand. He nods shakily, calling up an admin console. “When I’m done, put me in the prison. I don’t want to hurt anyone like this ever again.”

The two hermits look at each other unhappily over Dream and Tommy’s heads, but say nothing. They watch as all across the server, mutilated corpses dissipate into fine white pixels, and people begin to respawn. The hermits and Dream SMP citizens alike raise their weapons, but find that PvP does no damage any longer.

Dream is crying.

“Come with us,” Grian offers on a whim. Xisuma startles, but sees where Grian is going.

“Yeah, why don’t you come to Hermitcraft? You can be alone there.”

“Why can’t I be alone here?” Dream asks sullenly.

Tommy grins. “Think of it like a therapy vacation.” When the two hermits laugh, he laughs with them. “Worked for me, didn’t it?”

Holding out a hand for Dream with deceptive casualness, he waits with bated breath for Dream to take it. Dream hesitates, wondering if he should, if he deserves it.

Fuck it. He may not deserve it, but he wants it. To Hermitcraft he goes.

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #dreamwastaken #technoblade #tommyinnit #xisuma #xisumavoid #fundy #itsfundy #hermit!tommy au #me.cpp #me.txt #that-one-engineering-bard

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owaowabetch · 3 years

Text

Minecraft Part 2 (Sykkuno x F!Reader)

Oneshot (maybe part of a series??? at this point probs): Chaos in the server, Will a deal entice you to become part of the comfy cartel? Or will you resist the temptation of the deal and side with the resistance? Friendship and a lil romance (oohhh things are starting to heat up)

Warning:Non beta (cuz we baddies purr); part of Uh-oh & Impasta

You had been streaming Minecraft for about 4 hours when you decided to end it for a small meal break. Though ending stream didn’t stop you from continuing playing with your friends. Unfortunately, Sykkuno had not been on while you were streaming, since you did so quite earlier than usual, but you wanted to remodel your minecraft home; turning the once pink wooden home to a white quartz block using the obscene amount of quartz that Jae gifted you as to entice you to join his faction in the sever. It was a nice bribe gift, but you have yet to align yourself with the ressistance or the comfy cartel.

So, while gettin gifted quartz blocks was nice, hearing that Toast gave Lily a gun enticed you more.But you doubt Toast’s whole character arc will entrust you with one. You maybe be living with his ‘right-hand’ man, but he seems to be slowly on a downward spiral. Kind of like a crazy wacky scientist- he’s doofenshmirtz.

Anyways you had completed the finishing touches on your remodeled, when you saw in the little chat that Sykkuno was on. “ OH!OH!OH! SYKKUNO!”

You were excited to show him the newly made house. The house was three levels to your house, but you’re mostly wanna show him the basement area.

You saw the iconic teal shirt paired with the green stripped scarf boxy figure making their way towards you. You emoted the cheering pose and happily called out to him “Hi Sykkuno!”

“Hey, Y/n!” He cheered back coming closer “I have something for you!”

You start jumping up and down “Present!” You like getting free things, especially if it comes from someone you like....as a friend of course. Yup yup, just as a friend. As, he stood in front of you he laughed “What are you doing?” watching your character wave their arms around

You laughed back at him “Just happy to see you!”

“Well, I’m always happy to see you!” Sykkuno chirps out and adds on with a slight stutter “C-cause we’re friends! I’m always happy to see such a great friend!”

Feeling the high of him telling you how he was always happy to see you was crushed by him reminding you that friends is all that you both may only ever be. So with the disappointment lingering and the excitement wearing off, you just mutter a reply back. “Yes! The bestest of friends!”

“Yup, yup. Anyways have some water mills” He throws some black blocks with blue markings on them “Follow me!” You both ran near your home “Claim this bit of land” and you did so. “Now, dig like a 3 by 6 hole and place two water mills close to each corner and one in the middle bottom”(1). You followed his instructions “Ok, so im just gunna place the water” You watched him do so “Ok! I think it’s all good and ready to go!”

You crouch and inch around the hole “What is it?”

“Ok well you know how I got you that green lasso that has you swinging and jumping all over the place with the slime boots?” Sykkuno asks crounching up right beside you

“Yea yea!” You crouch and uncrouch in circles around him

“Well I have something even better!” He cheers “Eh” he grunts and throws a ring on the floor. You awe and oh as you put the ring in your hot bar “How cute! It has little wings on it!”

“Yea! It’s a special ring” Sykkuno tells you

“Special ring?...Are you proposing to me! OMG Sykkuno” You joke

“Wah?” Spluttering out in confusion but deciding to play along “I mean are you accepting?”

You laugh “Woah, Sy! How bold of you sir”

He giggles back to you before teaching you how and where to put the ring. “OK do you have it on?”

You jump up and down in response allowing the slime boots to spring you up higher. “Yup Yup”

“Ok so, why don’t you take off your slime boots and then press the space bar” He jumps up and down, which you do. You gasp as you are lifted into the air “Sy! Look! Im flying!!” He is in the air next to you “I can see! Cause I am also flying!”

“How are we doing this! This is so fucking cool!” You laugh as you start moving around in the air “WAIT! Are you streaming? I’m so sorry!”

He laughs as he starts following you around in the air “It’s fine, but the ring I gave you is an angel ring. As long as your wearing it, then you can just fly around”

“Wow! Thanks Sykkuno!” You cheer and you walk around in the air “Clean! Clean!”

“Yea, Of Course! It’ll be alot easier for you to get to places faster” He explains once more “Now, my chat has been going crazy and telling me that you redid our house?”

Excitement lit through you as you were ready to show him the remodeling works that you’ve done “Yes! I did! I’m so excited to show you” You move your camera out of first person and notice your character wearing a pair of white wings on your back “Oh my god! Sykkuno! I didn’t know that there was actual wings that appear on your lil person!”

“uh yea! I didn’t know if you wanted to have or not, cause mine are invisible” Sykkuno says flying next to you as you make the short distance back to your home “but i remembered you saying that you wanted to buy fairy wings. I could’ve made them pink to look like them, but i thought the white ones would suit you better”

“Cause i’m such an angel?” You tease as you reached your front door

“Well uh you are um a nice person” Hearing the shyness in his tone made you think that he was being sincere and it made you blush “Thank you Sykkuno, you’re one of the best people i know!”

He clears his throat “uh well um, look we made it!” trying to divert the conversation away from the compliments. You made a mental note to yourself to compliment him more, so that his confidence rises up and he no longer shies away from them.

“Yup!” You open the door “come on in!” He oh’ed as he came in, seeing the kitchen area first “As you can see Sy and chat, I have created a kitchen with actual fucking oven and fridge! How crazy is that! These mods are cool!”

“So, yeah! Kitchen area, though I doubt we’ll use it” You comment

“Wow! a fridge! Neat!” He opened the fridge and looked at the decor of other kitchen appliances

You laugh at his wording “ Yup! and this is our living room slash library” leading him further into the house and showing him the sitting area with a bunch of bookcases surrounding the fake chairs “and right next to this is the ‘dining room’ where more seats were placed with a table and a cute flower in a pot atop the table. “So, yea this is the first floor!”

“This is cool! Oh! it’s [y/f/flower] on the table” He notes and you nod feeling your cheeks flush a bit before admitting “of course! It’s actually the flower you gave me on our first day...”

“thats, thats really cool that you kept it” Sykkuno replies and there is a bit of silence between the two of you. Not awkward but almost in a content kind of way. Peaceful if you will.

“Ok! Now lets head upstairs! It’s where we sleep!” You say walking up the stairs showing him the green beds placed next to each other “I didn’t know if you wanted to sleep next to each other again, but i did it anyways lol”

He walked around the room and admired the little decor spread around the walls and opened chests in the room. He laughed awkwardly “it’s fine, it’s just a respawn point so its no biggie!”

“Yea to sleepovers!” You cheer

Clearing his throat he noted how much he liked the room, causing you to smile and thank him “But i know what you’ve been wanting to see the most!”

“What do you mean?” He questioned and looked at you

“The basement! Dun Dun DUN!” You jump at him scooting him down the stairs

He laughed in disbelief “What was that? Did you just hit me?”

“Nope” Emphasizing the p “ I just jumped at you which caused you to go down the stairs! I could never hurt you Sy!”

“Well I could never hurt you too” He mutters back and you pouted at how cute his response was

“Oh! You could just make your way down there! I forgot that Jae wanted me to give him some quartz back!” You gasp remembering what Jae had told you

“What do you mean?” His character looks back at you

And you look back at his and think “hmmm I don’t know if I should snitch or not, but Jae gave me an obsence amount of quartz blocks to build the house! I knew it was a little hard for you to get some, so he offered to give me some”

He hummed back “I see....”

You noted how the atmosphere tensed for a split moment until Sykkuno happily noted that it was nice of him to give you something he couldn’t, but it sounded a bit off to you. Though you didn’t pay much attention to that since you didn’t want to reveal the resistance, as you have yet to align yourself with any of the two factions, well soon to be three since you believe that Sydney is doing some witchy stuff.

“Well, why don’t you go do that while I check the basement and give something to toast really quick!” He tells you

“Ok!” You reply back to him rifling through your chests to find the remaining the blocks to give to Jae “I’ll see you in a bit, maybe toast too!”

With that you made your way back to Jae to hand him the quartz back, though it was quite an ordeal since he made a whole rant on how evil the comfy cartel were and how you should join them and become a spy cause apparently Toast is planning on doing something that could affect the entire server....

So you just ignored all of that and made your way back home, to have Toast and Sykkuno greet you at the front door.

“Hey guys! Im back” You cheer at them

“What did Jae want huh?!?!” Toast immediately questions you “Did you tell him any of our business huh? Should we be trusting you huh? huh? HUH!?!”

“Whoa Toast” You back up as he was getting all up in your face

“Wow Toast, are you okay?” Sykkuno places himself between you two

“Im doing just fine” Toast answers back and you notice his full gear armor “Just wanted to know if we have a rat here”

You tsk “wow Toast, I see how it is. I see. By the way you look like a Power Rangers villan, just sayin”

He takes out his gun and points it at you “Well you won’t be sayin much Motherfucka!”

“I won’t say anything at all if you give me a gun to join the comfy cartel” You hit Sykkuno away and hear him utter an ow “Cause I don’t have an allegiance with anyone at the moment. So I’m a free agent and I can talk to whoever whenever” Throwing his words back at him and implying that you can speak to anyone without repercussions.

“AH right you are not part of the comfy cartel yet” He nods to himself “Well I wont give you a gun to join the group cause frankly I know that you’ll just shoot me”

You sigh “Then i’-”

“Instead!” He interrupts you “I’ll give you something better!”

You pout “but i wanna cap a bitch”

“Instead of cappin’ you’ll be rackin’ cause you’re gunna have to collect taxes from people and in exchange you get the left hand of my right hand” He moves closer to you, that statement throw you through a loop ‘left hand?right hand?’. You were confusion. “Capiche?”

“What do you mean?” You question and he evil laughs and hits sykkuno.

“Wha? What was that Toast” Sykkuno also confused as to why Toast hit him and what Toast meant.

“I’m saying that you can have Sykkuno!” He evil laughs once more

Sykkuno splutters “Wha? What do you mean Toast?!?!”

You were shocked at what he said. Giving you Sykkuno? “What do you mean?”

“You can marry Sykkuno” He repeats himself once more “You are both important to each other, why else live together? This way I’m keeping you both in check” and once again with the evil laughter

‘I’m glad im not streaming otherwise some of the more entitled fangirls would 100% send hate comments to me’ you think to yourself

You hum “Will I still get a gun?”

“Only if you can become my number one marksmen and execute the people I tell you too” He offers you

“Deal” You nod to yourself

“Wha? [Y/N]?” Sykkuno sputters out “You’re ok with this?” and nodding to yourself you reply with a yes and asks him if he is also “Well I- uh I” he continues to laugh awkwardly “I mean uh sure?”

“Neat!” You reply throwing a diamond at him “Here’s your dowry lol”

Though before another conversation could happen Toast butts in once more “This was a test and you both passed” and throws a gun at you “Here take this one, prove yourself and I’ll get you a better one”

You put the gun in your hot bar and place it in your hand. “Clean!” You start point it in different directions “Thanks! Toast!”

“Don’t betray me or else you gets the hose!” He starts walking backwards then comes back up to you “Oh, also your target is Leslie, be sure to collect her taxes before killing her.” Walking backwards once more before coming back “Oh Sykkuno hand me the diamond [y/n] gave you.” He does so “Ok that’ll be your last tax payment until I have you look for materials for a special project” He evil laughs as he flies away

“OK! Great talk!” You call out and emote the happy one, with your arms lifted up and shaking about “Awesome! I get a gun muahahahaha!”

You hear Sykkuno clear his throat “so uh, you were ok with marrying me?”

“Yea! so were you!” You say as you move you camera around trying to find a good angle to see it properly

“Because you were!” He replies back and that took you aback a bit as you didn’t realize how uncomfortable it may have been for him.

“Well you didn’t have too if you didn’t want to” You felt a bit embarrassed at the fact that he did it because you wanted to but not he himself personally

“Wha, well I didn’t think you were being serious” Once again laughing awkwardly “Cause you know girls aren’t in- OW”

You shot him with the gun in annoyance.

‘Bitches are into you Sykkuno’ You screamed in your head ‘I‘M BITCHES!’

Author’s Note:

Side Note 1 - I dont know if this is correct lol

No cap but i had written half of this like 3 days after writing Part 1 but I got lazy lmao sorry! Also this is gunna be a slowburn story cuz lets be real our smol bean and all of our asses are awkward as hell and kind insecure in the romantic aspect, so realistically it would not be fast paced.

So here it is Minecraft pt.2/4

Tags: @sushiims

#sykkuno x reader #sykkuno fanfic #sykkuno imagines #sykkuno x y/n #sykkuno #sykkuwu #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader

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youalexturnermeon · 3 years

Text

Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt. 2 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Click for Part 1

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: First part is basically just the request, the second part is more angsty and more heated. Johnny protects the reader from some creeps in the bar and they get finally closer

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, violence and sexual harassment

Wordcount: 3174

Friday nights were busier, much busier than any of the other days of the week. You didn’t know how much busier than the other fancy bars in L.A. but for you it was most certainly busy enough. Mostly, middle-aged men came by, construction workers above all, who decided to celebrate the end of the week by getting black-out drunk. The bar was much noisier and loud music blasted through the old shabby speakers on the walls. You didn’t particularly like the big groups of men. They weren’t the nicest and they were the definition of a patriarchal dick comparison that mostly consisted of hitting on the female barkeepers. They were a huge pain in the ass, but at least, the drunker they got, the better they tipped. And you needed the money. Compared to them Johnny was a literal angel.

You didn’t show much enthusiasm when you walked around with a tray, picking up dirty glasses, taking new orders tipped with a few disgusting comments and bringing new drinks over to the tables. Usually, you liked being behind the counter more. Firstly, because you didn’t have to move much, also you loved making cocktails, and secondly because of Johnny who was always an annoyingly good company, although you were never willing to admit that. However, he seemed off today. He still was full on hitting on you and complimenting your today’s choice of clothing, he said he loved how you looked in your shorts and fishnets, but you could see that someothing was going on with him. He was staring into space more than usual and he didn’t pick fights with the construction workers who accidentally bumped into him from time to time. You wanted to ask him about it, because you genuinely were interested in him but as soon as you walked past him with a new full tray, to bring it to a table with three men, he gave you a dirty wink. And the wish to know something about him just vanished, so you made your way.

“Alright,” you said in your overly nice server’s voice as you started placing down the drinks on the table, trying to ignore the looks on your body. You were used to it, you were attractive and being that whilst working as a barkeeper just came with nasty comments and occasional sexual harassment.

“We have three beers, one dark and two Lager, two Whisky on the rocks and one Vodka soda.” Everyone tried to grab their drink from your hands, which you hated but that was okay, some people just didn’t know better, they thought they were helping out that way. When you were putting down the last of the beers on the table and leaned down, a rough hand suddenly brushed over your chest. You might have imagined it, you thought, that was probably an accident. After all, the man, still in his dirty work clothes, probably just tried to grab his dark beer. Yet you stopped for a second, eyes wide, then you cleared your throat and pulled yourself together.

“You alright, love?” he asked, and you nodded, “Yeah, sure, enjoy!”

The man who did that wasn’t even looking at you, you missed his dirty smirk by seconds. You just shook if off, you had thick skin and turned around to go back to your beloved counter. Yet, the minute you turned your back to the men sitting, you instantly felt it. A hand on your ass, a squeeze and you heard laughter, then - a slap. You snapped back and slammed the tray on their table, glasses clanking.

“Get you fucking hands off me, you asshole!” you yelled, your breath suddenly quicker, anger rising in you. So, you haven’t imagined it, he touched your breasts before. Bad pick-up lines were okay, but this was too far. Groping was the last straw for you.

“Or what?” he retorted immediately and now you were seeing the disgusting grin on his sweaty wrinkled face, full of self-admiration, he was so proud of himself “Are you gonna chop them off with that sharp tongue of yours?”

You let out a hateful laugh, he probably was expecting you to leave it be, after all he was a customer and you’re a simple barkeeper. But not with you.

“No, I’m gonna bite your fucking tiny dick off!”

“Ohhh,”, the men growled together, “That’s a feisty one. Wanna see it? It’s not that tiny. You’ll like it.”, the bald sweaty one said and gestured to his crotch.

“I’m gonna bite your dick off. Then I’m going to go to your house and I’m gonna fuck your wife. And I’m gonna fuck her so good, she’ll leave your sorry dickless, spineless ass!”

Suddenly, your groper was on his feet, he was so close to you, you could smell his boozy breath, although he towered inches above you. He didn’t like being talked to like that. And his glance was full of fury.

“Leave my wife out of that, you slut!” he grunted through his teeth and took another threatening step towards you, nervously fiddling with his wedding ring. You didn’t back off, you were in your bar.

“I’m gonna leave her out of it if you apologize for being a piece of shit to me, you do not fucking touch your server!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t walk around in these tiny shorts of yours, showing off your legs if you don’t want men to appreciate it.”

You took a deep breath, this was not really happening right now. You felt so dirty.

“Is there a problem, (Y/N)?” you heard a familiar voice out of a sudden and felt a hand on your shoulder. And that’s when you understood how tense you were, but the soft touch helped, you relaxed. You didn’t even realize that as soon as you started yelling, Johnny sprung off his seat and rushed over to you.

“I…” you started but you had lost your words. It was the first time he touched you.

“Leave her the fuck alone!” Johnny growled, now shifting his attention from you to the three men who were bothering you. His voice was so ominous that it made you shiver. You had never seen him mad before. Protectively he stood in front of you, shielding you from their gaze, since he, too, was much taller than you. In the back Kenny was making his way to the scene as well.

“You scumbags should really pack your stuff and leave this fucking bar before I kill someone. You better watch how the fuck you are talking to her!”

“And who’s that? Your daddy?”, another spiteful remark from your tormenter. Johnny’s arms started trembling, he clenched his fist and the grip on your shoulder tightened, it almost hurt you. At the same it was calming you down.

“Yeah, and I’m her little brother” you heard yet another to you well-known voice and saw Kenny, who also stood there like a mountain, arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring down on the three construction workers, whilst his leather jacket crackled from where he tensed his muscles. He was fucking scary which made the men on appear so tiny whereas the one standing leapt back a couple steps, clearly intimidated by Kenny’s appearance and Johnny’s rage.

“And you better apologize to this lady before I give you a ban!”

And funnily enough, this helped. They muttered something about how they were sorry. But you didn’t even listen to it anymore, you were already walking back, Johnny following you, Kenny staying. You didn’t want to hear any more of that conversation. You wanted your safe space behind the bar with no one around you at best.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, seemingly concerned and took a seat at the other side of the counter. You were avoiding his eyes as you nodded, you didn’t want his pity. You just wanted a drink.

“That happens all the time, don’t worry,” you lied “As someone working here, I have to deal with it every fucking day. And you, my little drunk friend, are also part of the problem.”

“Ouch,” Johnny said and smiled, “At least, I never touched you!” “Seriously Johnny?” you laughed and saw how glad he was that you were able do that after the fight at the table, “The first time you came here, you bumped into me, hard.” “But not too hard.”

“And on purpose!”

“You can’t prove that,” he said grinning, “But it’s nice to hear that you still remember the first time we met. That has to mean something, right? Something like that we’re meant for each other.”

You rolled your eyes and poured yourself a whisky, you drank it and immediately another, “Not now, Johnny.”

“Sorry,” he said apologetically, and you were almost surprised to hear that from him “By the way, I really loved you threatening to fuck this asshole’s wife. That was badass. Just be careful next time, though, okay?”

“Is he bothering you, too?”, Kenny who suddenly appeared asked also pouring himself a whisky but in a much bigger glass than yours and a second in a smaller one.

“If I say yes, are you going to kill him?”

“Not necessarily kill him but cripple him real good.”

You heard Johnny gulp. He wasn’t afraid of three man but of Kenny. But Kenny laughed and placed a Whisky in front of Johnny, “That’s for protecting my (Y/N). After all you’re not as bad as she says.”

For the rest of the night, Kenny has sent you into the office, he wanted you to adjust the schedule for next week. You knew that it was only an excuse to get you out of the bar for a couple of hours, since the shifts you and the others had were always the same for years now. And you didn’t mind, although you wouldn’t have minded staying with Johnny either. Funnily enough, he calmed you down. Nevertheless, he was now making friends with Kenny whom he never really liked, so you knew, he was in good hands. It was around two o’clock in the morning when Kenny finally came in to tell you that you were free to go home if you did him the favour of bringing the garbage out and close the bar. This you didn’t mind as well. You dragged the bags behind you into the backyard where the bins were and that was also when Kenny said his goodbye.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked as he got on his bike and let the motor roar.

“Yeah,” you waved at him “Go home, I’ll be fine.”

And just like that, he was gone. You sighed and heaved the trash into the bins. Before you made your way back inside to get your bag to finally go home and sleep you decided to smoke a cigarette. And maybe that was your mistake.

“Well, well, well, if this isn’t the feisty little bitch,” you suddenly heard a slurring voice behind you, followed by laughter as were about to light a cigarette. You didn’t even have to turn around to know exactly to whom it belonged. This time, there was no anger rising in you, you didn’t dare to say a thing, there was only fear. You dropped your cigarette.

“Where are your friends now?”

“Kenny is still inside,” you answered trying to sound calm but your voice was shaky and so were your hands “And the other one is wai-“

“Bullshit!” exclaimed the man who acted that he was so sorry to have groped you only hours before. He was even drunker now and his thin lips crowned a spiteful grin. You were fucked.

“We just saw the big guy leaving on his motorbike. You’re all alone now.” And they were right. You tried to pull yourself together, to think of a plan to get you out of this situation but everything you could think of was calling the cops and on top of that your phone was still inside. You just have to fight back, your brain kept telling you!

“And what are you going to do? Beat me up? Rape me?” you tried to sound confident, but it was pretty difficult now that you were not in the bar anymore but outside in the backyard between some dumpsters. Your voice was failing you.

“Maybe a little bit of both?” one of the men said amused and shrugged while another one was now far too close to you, so close that he could grab your wrist. His grip was so tight that you cried out in pain and that was when you took all your courage, lashed out and punched him with all your might in the face. Your hand hurt as hell but now you saw blood.

“Shit, this bitch broke my nose!” your victim cried out in pain and now, with two other man leaping towards you, you were done with your plan, you just closed your eyes and…

“What the fuck did I tell you?”, a scream and then a loud thump. When you dared to open your eyes, you could not believe them. Johnny who managed to throw himself between you and the group was now in pretty hardcore fist fight. Although at the second glance you realized that he was not only throwing one strong punch after another but also full-on kicking the kicking the shit out of the assholes who were threatening you. He must’ve known some Martial Arts or something, you thought because this looked like being straight out of an action film. You couldn’t even follow the fight with your eyes that’s how quick Johnny was moving. Yet, some time you saw him being punched as well but it was nothing compared to how he dealt blows. And it that moment, you knew, you could never be not grateful to this man in your life ever again.

It might’ve taken just second or maybe hours but after a while, the men were gone, you didn’t even realize how they fled Johnny, and there were only you two left.

Johnny was panting when he came over to you, where you still stood motionless with your back pressed against the wall.

“Are you okay?”, he asked breathing quickly, holding out his hand to you. Without thinking you grabbed it and let yourself lead to a curb stone where you two sat down. You didn’t answer you just took out another cigarette and lit it, letting the smoke calming your lungs.

“(Y/N)?”

“I’m okay,” you said finally coming back to you and finding your voice, offering him a cigarette as well which he gladly accepted.

“Are you?” you asked while you studied him. He was the only one that had to be asked. Johnny looked rough. His blonde hair was all messy, his clothes now dirty and jeans ripped at the knees, but above all it was his face that concerned you. Blood was dripping from his chin, coming from his burst lip. Also, it already crusted on the cheekbone where a fresh scratch was on top of a purple bruise. And in the dim light you were not completely sure, but you could see a black eye being there tomorrow.

“I mean, you look like shit.” “Thanks, you’re always so kind to me. I can clearly see why I like you so much,” he joked “But yeah, I’m fine. Believe it or not but I always get into fights, this shit kinda follows me.”

“How did you beat them up like that anyways? Was that Krav Maga or something?”

“Karate” Johnny answered proudly and took a relieving drag from his cigarette.

“You never told me you did Karate.”

“You never asked me,” he smiled at you and protectively put and arm around your shoulders. He must’ve noticed how you shivered. And you didn’t object. You weren’t really cold but you just wanted be held by him.

“Well, to be fair, I never ask you anything besides your order. But I’ll guess I’m gonna start from now on. There’s obviously more to you than being a noisy bastard.” “Oh I’m honoured to be the one who finally melted the infamous (Y/N)’s heart.”

“No Johnny, seriously, you didn’t melt my heart, but you saved my ass. Thank you,” you laid your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes “I don’t even wanna know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

“You don’t have to,” Johnny said softly and stroked your hair “Because I was there! And you’re save with me.”

You were, you felt save and you sighed. There was only one thing left to do.

“Now, c’mon, let’s patch you up so we can finally call it a day” you said and stood up.

Half an hour later you could finally close the doors to the damn bar, it was relieving. “Do you need a ride?”, Johnny asked when stopped for a second and gestured over to a black car in the distance “Because I’m not leaving you alone here anymore, not today, not ever.”

You rolled your eyes, but you smiled. After all, it was an amazing feeling to know that Johnny cared about you. That he wasn’t just one freak you liked because he was nice to you but genuinely wanted you to be happy. However, you just couldn’t help yourself but being a sarcastic little shit again.

“No, thank you,” you answered, “I’m not really interested in being involved in DUI again.”

“And there she is, (Y/N) being herself again,” Johnny laughed but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he threw his keys at you “You’re driving then.” You clumsily caught but immediately threw them back at him.

“I’m also not driving. I don’t have a license, lost it a few months ago.” “For DUI?”

“For DUI,” you answered. The curse of working in a bar.

“So how are you getting home? Because I’m really not leaving you alone.”

“I called myself an Uber and there it is” you saw the only moving car in the distance and pointed at it.

“Thanks again,” you said when you were walking towards your Uber and Johnny made his way to his.

“No problem”

And something in you told you, that you two weren’t done yet. As you watched him walking you suddenly realized what it was. “Johnny!” you called out and he stopped.

“What is it, (Y/N)?”

“Tomorrow for sure, I’m gonna finally let you buy me that fucking drink. And I want to know everything about your Karate. Is that a deal?”

“You bet!”, he yelled back, and the brightest smile appeared on his face. He finally made it. “See you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow.” You whispered back. And on your face also appeared a smile. Tomorrow would be the day, you thought and finally got in the car.

But Johnny didn’t come tomorrow, and he didn’t come the day after. That was unusual. You were waiting for him, but he didn’t show himself for almost two weeks.

**************************************************************

Part 3

Sooooooo, let me know what you all think about this fuckery

Taglist: @lililolli

#johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence fluff #johnny lawrence angst #angst #fluff #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai one shot #karate kid #billy zabka #william zabka

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

[21:48] ~ Changbin [M]

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: @taestannie is a genius! Pointed something out to me and it just had to become a waiter AU for binnie boy 🥺💜

Genre: Smut, waiter/waitress AU, friends to lovers

Friday night shifts were the worst possible shifts to be placed on and everybody knew that which is why everyone except for you, Changbin and a couple of others were the only ones waiting tables that night. The restaurant was overcrowded by people as it always was on a Friday night and you were already wanting to pull your hair out of your scalp and you'd only been on shift for ten minutes.

"Drinking game tonight?" Changbin asked as he watched you walking over to him at the bar, you nodded in agreement showing him the back of your notepad, you'd already started taking notes on the number of times you'd been told to smile. You and Changbin had been working there for the last year and you'd come up with a drinking game to do every Friday you locked up at night - you were the managers which meant you were in charge of locking up each night.

"Just you and me tonight though, everyone's leaving early. Felix has a date," You rolled your eyes when didn't Felix have a date? Changbin watched as you bent down in front of him to pick up one of the serving trays from his bar. You were wearing the usual black tight-fitted low cut top that the sleazy restaurant owner ordered that every girl wore on shift along with the tight pencil skirt that drove Changbin wild for you. Everything you ever did drove Changbin wild for you, he could never fully concentrate when you were on a shift together.

"You okay there Changbin?" You giggled coming back up from the ground and making eye contact with him, he nodded his head and began making drinks from his notepad when you joined him on the other side of the bar.

"Do you know what table 45 said to his wife just now?" You whispered nodding your head over to the window seat where a couple were sitting together, he shook his head and you started laughing softly at what you’d heard them talking about.

"They're taking their pick of the guys tonight and you caught her eye." He groaned at the thought of it, it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his night tonight. Everyone knew that couple, they came in every Friday to flirt with the waiters and waitresses, giving them huge tips and making sure they never shared them with anyone else. Always touching and flirting with people whenever they got the chance, you were sure they were trying to make a threeway happen.

"Can't say I blame them, hot stuff." You joked winking at him before walking away with your tray of porn star cocktails, Changbin watched as you swung your hips from side to side a little extra than usual. You and Changbin would flirt...a lot...There was no secret that there was the sexual tension between you both but nothing ever happened as much as both of you wanted it to.

"Cat got your tongue?" Chan - one of the other waiters - questioned when he watched Changbin watching you, he stuttered over his words spilling beer onto the tray he was holding.

"W-What?! No, her?! We're just friends," Chan snorted at the younger waiter in front of him and shook his head,

"Sure thing, and I’m a rapper" He said sarcastically as he walked away from Changbin while he went onto cleaning up the drinks he'd split all over the place.

Towards the end of the night, it was starting to get so busy you and the other waiters were climbing over one another to get through the place. The place always got like this towards the end of the night, people would come here before they went on a night on the town since the drinks were cheaper and you could find friends there easier than in the packed out clubs.

"Can I start you off with some drinks tonight?" You questioned looking down at a group of girls who all looked disappointed that they didn't have a male server with them but instead they had you to deal with.

"Excuse me Y/n," You looked over your shoulder as you heard Changbin say your name. God, you'd give anything to hear him moan it just once, after a couple of seconds you realised you couldn't move thanks to the place being so packed full. He placed his hands on either side of your hips and pressed himself against you as he got by the table. You could feel every inch of him and it sent a pool to your core just thinking about him,

"Y-yeah, drinks?" You stuttered out trying to distract yourself from the need of wanting Changbin to take you into the back and fuck you until your voice ran out.

Changbin stood at the bar mixing drinks and you looked at your pad, you had a bunch of cocktails you weren't skilled enough to make and you knew he was. You walked over with a giant smile on your face and leant forward on the bar. Changbin tried to keep his eyes on you but it was hard when you were practically hanging out of your top for all to see, it only sent more blood rushing to his cock. He was concentrating so hard on not staring at your breasts all he'd heard you say is,

"Sex on the beach and make me scream?" His eyes snapped to yours in horror and you frowned at him,

"You're the only one decent enough at making them don't make me beg Binnie." You whined out running your fingers up and down his bicep as you gave him your best puppy dog eyes you could conjure up. Flirting with him was the best way to get your own way right now and you knew that too well,

"Yeah, s-sure. What table?" He stuttered out finally realising that you meant the cocktails and you weren't asking him to fuck you on the beach and make you scream.

"Table 12, be careful Binnie. I think they bite." You whispered in his ear moving away to go on the five-minute break that you had. You just needed to be away from him for five minutes, any longer around him and you'd be dying for him to bend you over the bar.

"Here you go ladies," Changbin said as he unloaded the drinks onto their table, they all smiled at him and began flirting heavily but its something he was used to after working her. He watched as you came out from the back of the kitchens adjusting your top and he bit his lip watching you closely.

"Can I get you anything else?" He asked going back to his job and trying to ignore the raging hard-on he was getting under his apron, he thanked the lord that he had one otherwise everyone would know what was going on in his mind right now. You had no idea what you did to him with the simplest of things, you could say a word to him and have him hard for you. One-touch, one whisper, anything and he would be yours for you to take.

"Thanks, Binnie, I owe you." You said as he came back to the bar you were standing behind, he went to walk behind you when you back up into him thanks to another waitress walking in front.

"Shit sorry," You whispered as you felt him against your ass, he was hard and it turned you on even more than you already were for him. You ignored the feeling and cleared your throat,

"Last hour! Let's go!" You yelled clapping your hands together trying to get everyone on the move and into their places for final drink orders.

The shutters were pulled down and locked, you and Changbin were alone in the whole restaurant trying to close up everything. You’d finished counting out the tips before everyone left for their own nights and now you were counting up the register while Changbin stood behind his bar.

"The perks of being bar manager and manger," You looked up from the books in front of you and over to him while he spoke, he pulled out a bottle of tequila for you both and two small shot glasses smirking darkly as he knew you always had to take more shots than he did.

"We can drink our sorrows away," He was overdramatizing everything while you counted up and cashed the money into the safe. Once it was done you walked over to the bar he was standing behind and took out your notepad.

"You're going to be hammered," He whistled looking at all of the notes you had by everything you had to take a shot for,

"Five for being told to smile, 6 for asking for my number, 10 for the sly ''accidental'' ass grab, 9 for the number of times a man has told me that my skirt fits me perfectly." You slammed the notepad down and waited for him to show you his pad but he didn’t,

"Not showing," He put it into his top pocket and you scoffed,

"Erm, yes you are those are the rules. Give it to me." He shook his head at you tapping his pocket with the book inside and you blinked at him,

"Come and get it," You stared at him from across the bar, he knew you would and you knew you would climb across that bar and get it from his hands if you had to.

"Fine," He threw it down in front of you not wanting to risk you hurting yourself if you climbed over the bar and you sighed reading from his page. You didn’t see why he was hiding it, it was nothing,

"Five shots? Five shots?!" You sounded offended and you were, here you were with 30 shots.

"You're taking some of mine, I can't handle 30 on my own." You told him as he started making up the shots in front of you.

Five minutes later you were 15 shots in and starting to get a little giddy from the alcohol, you’d never been one to handle your drinks and neither had Changbin so they’d gone straight to your heads.

"I have an idea, I saw it on a movie once and it looked like fun." Changbin watched as you pulled him over to one of the tables and laid down on top of it.

"W-What are you doing?!" Blood rushed to his cock again as he watched you start to unbutton your shirt and reveal your black bra to him, it made his mouth run dry as he thought about you laying there like that for him,

"Relax Binnie," You placed a lime into your mouth, salt on your chest and poured some of the shot onto your stomach waiting for him to catch onto what you wanted him to do.

"Body shots? Really?" You nodded and he smirked at you, both of you too tipsy to care anymore and far too pent up to even care that you were just two flirty friends.

"You asked for it Princess," The nickname sent a pool to your panties and your legs clamped together trying to ignore the pressing feeling of wanting him inside of you. He sucked the tequila from your belly button and then slowly licked the salt from your chest, coming up to your mouth and smirking as you proudly held the lime there for him. He licked his bottom lip before taking the lime out of your mouth with his lips before throwing it somewhere across the room. He grabbed your face and began to make out with you heavily on the table, your hands went into his hair bringing his face closer to yours. Tugging on the strands of his hair and he let out a low grunt of your name, that was all it took. You needed him.

"Want you." You whispered to him and he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat nodding and looking at you as you shifted to the edge of the table spreading your legs open for him, it wasn't the most hygienic of places for this to happen but neither of you cared right now. You needed one another and you weren't going to waste time calling a taxi to take you home. Your shaky hands undid his belt and dropped his pants to the floor and he began kissing you again, he laid your back flat against the table gently,

"C-Changbin," You whispered looking into his eyes as he pulled away from the kiss, his breathing was laboured and he looked at you as he slowly slipped two fingers into your heat, he didn't even give you a second to get used to it as he began to finger you. Your back arched off the table and you moaned out his name clenching around his fingers. He groaned watching you with lust in his eyes as you clenched around his fingers he just kept imagining what you would feel like around him, crying out his name whenever he'd hit that sweet spot of yours.

"Good?" He chuckled adding another finger into your heat, your hands gripped onto the edges of the table as your toes curled as you felt him hitting your g-spot,

"R-Really good Binnie!" You whimpered feeling overwhelmed with him finally taking you, it was everything you'd wanted and everything he’d always wanted/

"I want you though Binnie, all of you," You whispered seductively, he slipped his fingers out of you and began pumping himself in his hand to slick himself in your arousal as he watched you rub your clit for him.

“Need you Binnie,” You moaned out making eye contact with him as he pumped himself faster at the thought of being inside of you, the amount of times he’d done this in his apartment. Thinking about you while jerking himself off was unimaginable.

"S-Shit, you're so fucking beautiful." He grunted lining himself up at your entrance, he looked at you asking for approval and you nodded as he slowly sank into you.

"A-ah fuck," He grunted as your nails dug into his biceps, he sank all the way into you and held himself still as he felt your pussy clenching around him needly sucking him into you.

"You're so tight," His comment made you whimper and he chuckled seeing you like this, you'd done nothing but tease and flirt all evening but now you were beneath him begging for him to move. The sounds you were making drove him wild and he slowly began thrusting into you, pulling you further off the edge of the table to angle himself deeper.

He hooked one of your legs over your shoulder and held you in place on the table thrusting roughly into you.

"Shit! Changbin!" You cried out hands desperate to hold back onto him to steady yourself from falling off the table. He kissed you passionately as he continued to fuck into you with small yet powerful thrusts.

You knew you weren't going to last long, you'd dreamt of this moment happening for months and here it was.

"I'm close Changbin," You moaned out to him and it only made him more animalistic, his hips began snapping in and out of you at an unspeakable pace that had your head spinning. You cried out his name as he took his thumb and began rubbing your sensitive clit, he wanted to feel you cum around him.

"S-Shit!" You screamed feeling your high hitting you and pushing through you intensely, your legs shook as you came around him and he continued fucking into you.

"I-I'm cumming!" You whimpered hips bucking so hard that the table was starting to shake and wobble beneath you both. Changbin grunted thrusting into you one last time and burying himself deep inside as he came into you filling you up as he moaned out your name.

You stay there for a couple of minutes with him still inside of you trying to catch your breath and come down from the highs.

"Whoa," You whispered once you were both cleaned up and the table was cleaned.

"That's all you have to say?" He chuckled coming over to you, your ass was pressed against the table as he wrapped his arm around you.

"What do you want me to say? 'Thank God It's Friday?'" You stared at him and he shook his head at you softly placing a kiss on both cheeks before leaving one on your lips.

"No, I want you to say that you'll come home with me tonight." You nodded at him,

"Then I'll go home with you tonight." You whispered to him leaning forward and giving him another kiss,

"But first I have to delete the camera footage from the main office." You told him as you pointed up at the CCTV cameras in the restaurant.

A/n: This was written last night so if there’s any mistakes I’m sorry but I love this and I loved the idea when @taestannie came to me with it and I just had to do this

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Writting request!

Hels!Impulse taking regular impulses place n stuffing him in like a closet or somethin-

N someone who's sus of him (maybe iskall?) Finds the real impulse.

Now to unmask the fake.

okay so a few quick things:

1) this ended up a LOT longer than i expected lol so i apologise for that, it’s over 2k words

2) i also didn’t entirely stick to every detail in the prompt because i had an idea i rly liked and i wanted to roll with it, so i’m rly sorry if it’s not as good as you were expecting

3) anyway i hope it’s good! it was a lot of fun to work on

...

Impulse is working on the redstone of his pumpkin and melon farm in his base when he spots a shadow moving around right at the corner of his vision. Frowning, he leaves his task and heads out into the main part of the base, looking around. “Hello?” he calls cautiously. “Grian, if this is you again…”

He gets no response.

Just as he starts to turn back, thinking he just imagined it, something slams into him and knocks him into the wall, stunning him. He looks sharply up to find…

...himself.

Impulse’s eyes widen. “Wh-Who are you?!”

The new Impulse has his arms crossed and a malicious grin on his face. “My name is Impulstor. I’m your Hels counterpart. And I’m going to take over your life as my own.”

“W-Wait, what?!”

Before Impulse can move, Impulstor seizes his lapels and drags him across the base. Impulse struggles as hard as he can but he’s still winded from being hit against the wall.

Impulstor takes him to one of the support pillars at the very edge of the base, which has a two by one block hole in it, left over from Grian’s secret base shenanigans a few weeks ago. Weakened, he’s unable to stop Impulstor from shoving him roughly through the gap.

Since the floor is a block lower than the bottom of the hole, Impulse’s foot slips and he falls heavily against the wall, hitting his head and stunning him even more. The space inside the pillar is only one block by one block, with two or three more blocks of space above his head, so as Impulse collapses, he’s forced into an uncomfortable sitting position.

Blinking back tears of pain and fear, Impulse tries sluggishly to escape but Impulstor bashes him on the head with his own pickaxe.

The last thing Impulse sees before he passes out is Impulstor blocking the gap with white concrete, trapping him in this prison.

…

Zedaph flies over the shopping district and lands a little way off from Impulse and Tango, who are sitting on one of the benches outside town hall, chatting. As he approaches, the two look up and spot him. “Hey, Zed!” Tango calls, beaming. “Wanna join me and Impy hanging out?”

“Yeah, sure! What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I thought we might go give Decked Out a group run,” Tango says. “I’d have to fix things up a little bit but that shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. I think it’d be epic to go in as a team.”

“Ooh, yeah!” Impulse grins. “I always loved that game. It terrifies me, but I loved it. Those ravagers, man. I’m always on the lookout for them and it’s terrifying with the heartbeat and everything.”

“That was the idea,” snickers Tango.

“I know, I know. Doesn’t make it any less terrifying, though.” Impulse grins. “Going in as a group would be great! I’d really like to do that.”

Zedaph involuntarily takes a step back. He doesn’t know what, but there’s something off about Impulse today. There’s something different, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He’s known Impulse a long time, but not as long as Tango, who doesn’t seem to share his doubts. Is he misreading the situation?

“Yeah, me too!” Tango enthuses. “You up for it, Zed?”

“Um, actually…” Zedaph forces a convincing cough and rubs his stomach. “I feel kinda sick all of a sudden. I think the flight over here churned my insides.”

“Oh.” Tango frowns sympathetically. “You’d better rest, then.”

“Yeah, sorry. I need to go home.”

“No problem, man. Hope you feel better.”

Zedaph slowly walks away, keeping up his charade in case the others are watching. Over his shoulder, he hears Impulse say something about his ice farm, then a few seconds later, the sound of rockets are heard as the two take off with their elytras.

He keeps going for about a minute longer, just in case, before deeming it safe and taking off with his rockets. His heart pounding, he shoots over to Impulse’s base and after crashing through the water curtain, lands neatly on the ground inside. “Impulse?” Zedaph calls, starting to rush through the pyramid base. “Impulse, are you here?”

Zedaph’s voice awakens Impulse. Blinking against the throbbing in his head, he bashes his fist against the wall of the pillar as hard as he can. “Ze-Zedaph! ZED!”

Following the sound of Impulse’s voice, Zedaph locates the pillar and slices a hole in it with his pickaxe.

To his horror, he finds Impulse squeezed inside the narrow gap, blood still dripping from the wound in his head.

“Oh my god…!”

Zedaph drags Impulse out of the pillar and lets him lie flat on the ground for a moment while he tends to his wound. Impulse doesn’t even have the strength to wince at the stinging of antiseptic.

“Are you okay?” asks Zedaph quietly. “How long have you been stuck in there?”

“A-A few hours at most, I don’t really know. What’s going on?”

“Well, fake you is cosying up to Tango. I don’t think Tango suspects anything.”

Impulse swallows back a pang of hurt. “Oh… I-I thought he knew me better than that…”

“To be fair, whoever’s masquerading as you is really, really good,” says Zedaph slowly. “I hate to say this, but even I barely noticed.”

“Really? What made you catch on?”

Zedaph hesitates. “It was more of a gut feeling than solid evidence. I dunno, there was just something about the way he talked that seemed off. It didn’t seem like you. I thought either there was something wrong with you or it wasn’t you at all.”

“And you came to the conclusion that an imposter posing as me was more likely than me having an off day?” chuckles Impulse weakly.

Zedaph matches his chuckle as he starts to wind a bandage around Impulse’s head. “Again, it was just a gut feeling.”

“Well, your gut feeling was right. Now what do we do about Impulstor?”

Zedaph immediately bursts out a laugh. “Impulstor!”

Impulse gives him a look.

Zedaph clears his throat awkwardly. “S-Sorry. Anyway, we should go and save Tango from, uh… Impulstor.”

“Shouldn’t that be easy?” remarks Impulse. “I mean, I’M me. He’s not.”

“Man, you didn’t see the way he was with Tango. He has to be some kind of clone of you or something; there’s no way he’s just a guy who’s studied the way you behave. It’s not about us not knowing you well enough; it’s him knowing every mannerism, every quirk, every facial tick. If it wasn’t for my random gut feeling, I doubt we’d have noticed for a really long time.”

Impulse’s worry increases. If Tango, someone he’s known for over a decade, couldn’t even tell the difference between him and the imposter, his clone could have the whole server fooled within hours.

“We have to get to him away from the other hermits,” Impulse says. “The longer this goes on, the harder it’ll be to convince them I’m the real Impulse. What were him and Tango doing when you left?”

“I think they were taking a look at your ice farm,” responds Zedaph.

Impulse shoots bolt upright. “Oh no! I spent ages getting that farm the exact way I wanted; he better not ruin anything!”

Zedaph grips him by the shoulders. “Hey, easy, man. You might have a concussion.”

“I don’t care! Tango is in real danger and so is everything I’ve ever built! I’m going over to my ice farm right now and you can’t stop me.”

Zedaph hesitates. He knows his friend well enough to know that he really can’t stop him. “Okay, then. I’ll come with you.”

…

“-really like this pattern,” Tango is saying, looking down at the floor underneath the ice farm. “How’d you think of it?”

“Oh, it just came to me,” says Impulstor. “Took me a while to turn all the powder to concrete.”

“I bet. Nice farm, dude!”

“Thanks!”

Impulstor watches Tango move over to the side of the farm and look down. Tango clearly suspects nothing; if he has any doubts, he’s doing an amazing job hiding them. But Impulstor isn’t worried. From his (no, not his. Impulse’s) memories of Tango, he should be fairly easy to take down if the need arises.

But what he doesn’t anticipate is his ruse falling apart so soon.

“TANGO!”

Tango jerks and snaps his head upwards to find two figures flying towards him. He blinks in shock; one of them is clearly Zedaph but the other… It can’t be…

Impulstor lets out a very quiet growl, before rearranging his face into an expression of shock. “Wait a sec…”

Impulse nearly falls over in his haste as he lands, him and Zedaph getting between Tango and Impulstor.

“What the hell is going on?!” Tango demands. “Why are there two Impulses?!”

“He’s an imposter,” declares Impulse, jabbing a finger at Impulstor. “He’s a fake Impulse.”

“No, HE’s the fake!” Impulstor snaps back. “I don’t know what’s going on here but I’m the real Impulse!”

“Oh god, this is my worst nightmare,” Tango groans. “How are we supposed to know who the real one is?”

“Look, ask me anything,” says Impulse. “I’ll answer any question you ask.”

“What was your first build when you joined Hermitcraft?” Zedaph asks.

“The witch huts in season three,” say both Impulse and Impulstor at the same time, causing the former to stare at the latter in shock.

“Who did you team up with to do the pirate ship prank in season six?” Tango asks slowly.

“Ren and Doc,” both Impulses say, again at the same time.

“What did you call your season five base?” Zedaph says.

Again, the answer comes simultaneously from both Impulse and Impulstor: “Atlantis.”

“Okay, stop, stop.” Tango waves his hands. “This is going nowhere. I don’t know HOW you two have the exact same memory but clearly, we’re not gonna make any progress this way.”

“Hey, Impulse.” Zedaph turns pointedly to the real Impulse. “How did you get that scar on your thigh?”

“From an arrow wound during the season six civil war,” Impulse and Impulstor reply.

A split second later, Impulse realises what his friend is doing. He lifts his shorts leg just enough for the small scar to become visible. “This one.”

The other three turn to Impulstor, who realises he’s in trouble here. He may have Impulse’s memories but they don’t share a body. Impulstor remembers the exact moment Impulse got that injury but he wasn’t actually there. He didn’t live it; Impulse did.

“Impulse, if you’re the real one, show us the scar,” Tango says sternly.

Impulstor hesitates, his slightly narrowed eyes flickering from Tango to Impulse.

Suddenly, Impulstor takes off running, deliberately slamming into Tango as he does. Tango tumbles to the ground and slides right over the edge of the farm with a terrified yell.

Luckily, Zedaph reacts quickly and grabs his friend’s wrist. This stops Tango from falling long enough for Impulse to take hold of his friend’s other hand, and the two pull Tango back to safety.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” gasps Impulse. “You almost went over!”

Breathing heavily, Tango starts to speak but cuts himself off as he finally registers the bandage around Impulse’s head. “I-Impulse, did he hurt you?”

“What?” Impulse frowns, before remembering his head injury, which is already mostly healed. “Oh, yeah. He ambushed me in my base and knocked me out and stuffed me in the hollow space in one of my pillars for like five hours or so.”

“Oh my god...” Tango squeezes his eyes shut. “I-I’m so sorry…”

“Wh-What?” Impulse stares at him. What for?”

“For not realising he wasn’t you. I should have seen it; I can’t believe I was so blind.”

Impulse blinks. “Oh, Tango, no. Please, please don’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault at all.”

“But…” Tango’s eyes glisten with tears. “I… I’ve known you for at least ten years. Surely I…”

“No,” says Impulse firmly. “Don’t blame yourself, Tango. Impulstor is… He’s me. Essentially.”

“What do you mean, Impusle?” asks Zedaph quietly.

Impulse hesitates. “Impulstor is my Hels counterpart. He looks like me, talks like me, he has all my memories. Tango, nobody can really blame you for not noticing. Dude, I know I’m the real Impulse and even I did a double take. You know I’m not observant at all but that was taking it to a whole new level.”

Tango gives a quiet laugh. “Yeah, you’re really not super observant. But still…”

“And hey, at least we now have a fairly easy way to tell us apart,” Impulse adds. “He won’t be able to fool you two again. But the rest of the server needs to be warned and briefed on how to tell us apart. Will you help me do that, both of you?”

“Of course I will,” says Zedaph immediately, putting his arm over Impulse’s shoulders. “We’re a team.”

Tango meets Impulse’s gaze.

Finally, he says, “I always knew you’d have an evil twin but I didn’t expect him to be LESS annoying than you.”

“Hey,” complains Impulse mildly. “Give me some credit for not trying to murder you.”

Tango laughs and grabs his friend in a hug. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favourite Impulse.”

Impulse hugs him back. “Good. Now, let’s find Xisuma and warn him about Impulstor.”

Tango pulls sharply away from Impulse and stares at him. “Wait… Is that his NAME? Impulse plus imposter?”

“Uh huh. Trust me, I didn’t choose it.”

His friend bursts out laughing. “That’s GREAT! Oh my god. That sounds like something Zed would come up with.”

“I know, right!” Zedaph laughs.

Impulse can’t help a laugh too. The tension and fear that’s been controlling him for the last few hours has mostly melted away now that his best friends are safe. Impulstor might still be out there but with a little luck, he won’t be able to fool the rest of the server the way he fooled Tango. He’s sure he’ll see Impulstor again, though.

But the real question is: how soon?

#hermitcraft #impulsesv #tangotek #zedaph #vaunna’s requests

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bumackerman · 3 years

Text

DEAR ADULT READERS/CREATORS,

18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

^ see that? there is absolutely no way you missed that disclaimer if you understand the proper way to read english. but, let’s say you did miss it... here’s this message;

if you are under the age of 18, do not interact with 18+ adult accounts, or content.

there. hopefully you got the memo. if not, then i guess, one day, you’ll have the great opportunity to be featured in this brand new series of exposing, purging, and reporting minors! i mean... yay you?

disclaimer!; do not send any unnecessary hate to any of these people! it does not solve anything, and it could get you in trouble. just report, and block. thanks.

featured today, we have (drumroll please)... @/matching-with-my-demons!

warning: this post is very long!

alright, so i don’t actually know for sure if he’s necessarily a minor, but i do know that he’s been lying his age, and many, many other details about his life, leading to him getting caught by yours truly.

from this point forward, i will be reciting a briefed account of what exactly happened from a collective point of view of all of the victims involved.

I. beginning.

so, (and i think all of the people involved can agree,) this person is a flirt. automatically. just giving everyone pet names, talking about doing stuff with us, role playing with us, you know. nothing too extreme. i wasn’t suspicious of him at this point. i mean, i was sure he was 18+. to be fair, he did mention that he was 21 turning 22. why wouldn’t we believe him? he was speaking like an adult.

II. little lies & suspicion.

now, i’m not saying that this is impossible, but at multiple times during our conversations, he’d mentioned that he was was fluent in seven languages. seven. it’s not entirely impossible, but you’d think that if english wasn’t someone’s first (of many) languages, they’d have some sort of accent, right?

not only that, but he stated that he was six years old when he moved to america from japan, and he hasn’t moved since. i know, i know, yeah, cool he knows a lot of languages, and he’s a foreigner. yadda, yadda. get to the point.

he said that he was of asian descent, and that his parents were both japanese, and they lived in japan their whole lives. where the hell is he learning all of these extra languages at the young age of 21?

if japanese is his first language, we can cut out the time needed to become fluent in it. next, i’m ignoring english, as he would’ve had from the age of 6 to 21 to become fluent in it, but somehow he claimed he wasn’t? (let’s not mention the obvious fake misspellings and misunderstandings of simple words.) how on earth would he have become fluent in (at least) five other languages in middle school-high school?

OTHER LITTLE LIES N DETAILS

- he claimed that he was a 6’7, 21 year old (cis) male.

- said he was a stripper, bartender, and a sex worker (we’ll come back to that later).

- sent a picture of “his” chest, but it was 100% from google or some shit.

- (not judging anyone who does) he said that his body count was 74, but literally no one asked?

- he texted us when he “got another body” tf? we don’t care. carry on, i guess. (said he went on for like 7 rounds but... what?)

- talked about getting a vibrator stuck in his ass n his roommate had to get it out for him, but once again, nobody asked. °-°

- said he could bench 200 lbs. not impressive, just thought it was worth mentioning.

- said he had the same birthday as bakugou, which, okay.. (4/20)

- he made multiple channels in the server where he could roleplay with certain people, which, i, and a couple other people never used.

III. the voice chat.

after a while of all of us messing around, the conversation started to get heated, and some of us were teasing him, including me. we decided to get on voice chat (his idea), and he started talking into the mic. all of us were very confused, as he did not at all sound like a giant of a grown man.

but, despite this, we all warily continued, until he left the call. when he left, everyone who was participating voiced their current concerns, and laughed out our nervousness. that is, until he re-joined and everyone muted. he continued doing what he was doing until he “broke character”, stating he was a voice actor and it was hard to keep up that voice because it hurt his throat. i would’ve believed him if he didn’t sound the exact same as he did when he was “in character”.

after that, we were a lot more concerned and on edge about his identity, and i started to focus more on the shit he was telling us, hoping to find out who the fuck this person really was. i stopped interacting with him in a nsfw way, and mostly observed what he was saying, just watching from the sidelines.

II. the pictures.

captions:

not only do the skin colors just not match up, the hands in each picture are totally different people. even if you take into account the lighting differences, the undertones should still be the same. these pictures are fake.

if you look at the fingers, you can see that the ones on the right are flatter, and shorter. if the hand on the left were to hold that phone, it would wrap all the way around the device.

from a common sense standpoint, we know that our palms are always lighter than our skin tone. the fact that the hand on the left is still darker, proves that these are different people. (not that we needed proof.)

also, if this guy is so muscular, why can he only bench 200lbs? and why is his wrist so skinny?

+ to me, the phone, (right image) and the quality of the picture, looks like a black iphone 4s. from what i can see, at least. meaning, if i’m correct, that picture is majorly outdated.

for both pictures, he flipped the image so that we wouldn’t be able to find it by just by reverse image searching. luckily, one of the people involved was able to figure that out, and told me immediately.

III. ID check.

like i said before, a lot of us were starting to get really suspicious, but at this point, i thought i was the only one that was sketched out, so i issued another ID check.

(be sure to click on the pictures. one of them is really long. also, when reading, read the date and times that messages are sent. i was trying to lighten the mood and be nice, but it was honestly so offensive that he thought i was legitimately dumb.)

so, obviously, these ID’s are fake. not only are the pictures the exact same, but the backgrounds are the same, the outfits are the same, the names are totally fake, and just, wow. i don’t really know how he thought that was gonna slip past me.

after i called both him, and @/yourmajesty-theking out, he went into his own discord and started ranting to some of the other people involved that he was freaking out because he didn’t have his ID.

remember how i said that he mentioned he was a stripper/bartender/sex worker? why the fuck don’t you have your ID on you if you claimed you were at work that day? you can’t get in without it. °-° just- everything he was saying didn’t come together cleanly. the timeline is all sorts of fucked up.

you can’t drive without an ID, how are you getting to work? you can’t get into a strip club without an ID, how are you getting in? you can’t serve alcohol without and ID, how are you a bartender? you can’t get an apartment without an ID, how are you living with a roommate?

he told us that he moved to america with his PARENTS, and somehow his grandmother is in america now? when did that happen? if you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.

IV. conclusion.

anyway, do what you want with this information. the people in the discord all agreed that based off his voice and the evidence, that he couldn’t have been older than 15, and at most, 16.

though he hasn’t deactivated his account, the last time he was active was april 7, 2021 at 12:39am (EST) he claims he lives in cali, so i don’t know what time that is there.

thanks for reading. i’m sure i missed a lot of stuff, but for now, this is all i could put together. also, lmk if there are any spelling errors. i’m too tired to check.

like i said, if i get any hate for calling out a minor, you will be blocked/reported, and i will not hesitate to turn anons off for the time being. besides, saying dumb shit doesn’t affect me. just makes me laugh.

- bum <3

#18+ (mdni)#🍓. bum’s purge ࿐

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presidentorchid · 3 years

Text

Surely, Surely Not

tw // major character death, descriptions of violence/gore A creative transcription/interpretation of Tubbo’s execution and the aftermath Collaboration with @hyalinepandora He’d been straightforward and direct with his words, directed to the gathered festival-goers. There was no humor to his tone, only an honest attempt at sincerity as he welcomed the festivities. He felt terribly ill when Schlatt laughed.

“Wh-what’s wrong, Schlatt?” He had a feeling he knew. He didn’t want to. It took all his control not to stare down Wilbur and Tommy, to keep himself from trembling.

Was it time? Was it time for the festivities to begin? He held the president’s stare.

“No, it’s just-” Schlatt sighed, rolling his neck, snapping forward the lapels of his suit, picking away some non-existent fiber that had gone awry. “-I was just thinking about it, Tubbo. You know how we like to have fun.”

“Yeah, we like-” He cut to the chase. “What’s up, Schlatt.”

He felt Quackity’s gaze bore into the back of his neck. He straightened.

Remain steady. You’ve done nothing wrong.

Still, it felt difficult to breathe. The air was thick with danger and it pressed down on his chest. He curled his hands into fists, keeping them from shaking. He was not scared. But he was more anxious than he’d ever been.

Surely Schlatt wouldn’t kill him. He’d never raise a hand against him- he was his right hand man. His protégé. And surely he didn’t know about his work with the Pogtopians. He was- he tried so hard to be discreet about it. Of course he was safe. Schlatt trusted him. He’d never given him reason to doubt.

“You got anything else in the speech?”

Tubbo’s eyes darted frantically, a huge, shaky smile cracking over his face as he finally decided. Schlatt’s tone was so intimidating, confrontational, and he was not safe.

“No! No, let the festival begin.”

He wanted to collapse with relief. His knees shook as he watched Wilbur sweep away under the cover of darkness- it was so difficult to see him. He was out of danger. He was safe. His shoulders slumped. He moved to make a run for it, before he was caught in the detonation of Manburg, and was stopped by an iron grip on his shoulder. He flinched.

“You done with the speech?” Schlatt repeated. Tubbo was so still. He slowly nodded, unnerved by the warning in Schlatt’s voice, his flinty gaze. The torchlight was extinguished by them, he noticed.

“Y-yeah, I’m done with the speech, Schlatt.”

“...Alright.” Schlatt shrugged, voice dismissive. When he spoke again, his voice was hardly more than a murmur, business-like and factual.

“Here, uh, Quackity, take some of this.”

“What are you- what are you-” His words lodged in his throat, burning.

Surely not.

Schlatt passed Quackity concrete. The powder was so bright, it was like a flame in the night. It was unnaturally yellow, such a clear color despite the darkness, the starkness of it churned his stomach. He loved yellow. It was happy. It was peaceful. It was sweet and warm. But this was a warning. It was a hazard. Radiation! Toxic! Danger! Get away! Hazardous material! He tried to tear his shoulder from Schlatt’s grip. It was futile.

Schlatt held him by the shoulders as Quackity placed concrete around him. His grip had always been a little too tight.

“Schlatt, what are you- Schlatt. Schlatt!”

It hurt his eyes to look at so much yellow. The blackstone absorbed the light, the concrete reflected it, and it was a screaming ‘warning’ sign. It was dangerous. It was poison. It was a toxin. He breathed in the dust. Schlatt released him once he was encased. Everything happened so quickly, he was frozen to the earth. Panic rose in him, warring with his sense to remain composed.

Stay straight! Remain level-headed! See the people! They all see you, they’re all watching you! You’re the main attraction! You’re the festivity they came to see! Go out with a bang, Tubbo! Give them a show worth remembering!

“Schlatt, what are you doing?”

He threw himself at the fence, desperate to wrench it away, but it failed to give out.

Look at you, an animal! You’ve gone rabid and desperate! A lamb to the slaughter! Look how they’ve caged you like a beast! You’re an animal, Tubbo! See your horns! Never cry, never show weakness! What will your people think! Look, how they’ve trapped you like an animal! An animal! A sheep in wolf’s clothing, you are! A two-faced, double-lived spy!

So many lessons, so many criticisms and conflicting tips.

Hurry, Wilbur. He was so self-reliant, but here he was, reduced to desperation, dependence in what he was certain was his execution. Confusion rose from the audience. They didn’t know what was happening.

“Schlatt?”

Neither did he.

“Uhm, Schlatt? Schlatt?!”

Water dampened his suit as the concrete was made to solidify. Schlatt didn’t answer him, mumbling into the microphone incoherently. Tubbo tried his best to come across as knowing what was happening, like this was just a joke, a prank they were pulling on him. It was such a show, an attraction. He tried to add laughter to his voice, though no one was making jokes. This was not a joke. He chuckled nervously.

“Tubbo? Tubbo, I’ll cut to the fucking chase, alright?”

“Tell ‘em! Tell ‘em, Pres!” Quackity chimed in, so delightfully vicious. So he would do nothing to prevent this, either.

“What? Wha- What?” His voice came out so shaky and nervous. He laughed breathily, trying to sound relaxed.

This couldn’t be happening. Surely not.

“Tubbo, it-” Schlatt cut himself off, sighing. Tubbo shouldered the wall, finding it unyielding. With Schlatt now standing in front of him, eye-to-eye, Tubbo let the forced laughter leave his voice.

“Schlatt, Schlatt. I can’t get out, Schlatt.”

“And I mean it- it really sucks, having to say this, right here in front of everybody.” The president took a step back, so Tubbo could feel the head of one hundred thousand eyes, every single voice silent. Their voiceless whispers hurt his ears. He couldn’t possibly meet every gaze, couldn’t plead with them all. They were motionless. Unresponsive. Stagnant and watchful and compliant.

You’re letting this happen?

“And it’s kind of awkward.”

“Schlatt, I can’t get out!”

Schlatt pressed on, indifferent to his protests. Somewhere, between the static of his thoughts and Schlatt’s voice, he heard a softer protest in the crowd begging to free him, but the plea missed its mark.

“Tubbo- Tubbo. I know what you’ve been up to.”

“Yeah? Yeah, what have I been up to?” It was a demand. He was afraid, and he was stupid.

“What are you talking about?” And there went the demand, and he cursed himself for sounding afraid. Quackity chuckled as Schlatt mocked the question.

“Oooh, ‘what have I been up to,’ he says. ‘What have I been up to’.” Schlatt’s laugh was nothing short of villainous, Quackity’s laugh echoing the sentiment.

How could he know?

“Schlatt, I’m actually- I’m actually trapped in here, Schlatt.”

“You’ve been CONSPIRING! With the- with the IDIOTS, with the TYRANTS, that we KICKED OUT OF this server. That we KICKED OUT OF this great country. Months ago.”

His heart dropped.

How does he know.

“Tubbo, I don’t know, ah, I don’t know if you know this, but treason-”

“I don’t-”

“-Treason isn’t exactly, ah-”

“I think-”

“- a respectable thing around here. I know what you’ve been doing- IT ALL ADDS UP, buddy.”

Tubbo cowered from his voice. His horns scraped on the walls and the sound ricocheted in his skull.

“The fucking TUNNELS, your- your ABSCENCE from GREAT EVENTS- you walked off in the middle of this one!”

Tubbo had nothing to say. He couldn’t defend himself. It was true.

“Uh-” “You walked off in the middle of this one, Tubbo. Don’t try and tell me you’ve done nothing wrong.” His voice was so accusing, angry, and he wondered if Schlatt was hurt that he’d betrayed him. He didn’t regret it.

“Because everyone sees it! I sees it with my own two fucking eyes, what you’ve been doing.”

He was speechless. Schlatt watched him expectantly, but there was no rebuttal to be given. He stuttered and searched for something to say, but he came up empty. Schlatt met his gaze with such intensity he felt his eyes burn. Maybe it was tears. Schlatt sighed.

“Do you know what happens to, uh, traitors, Tubbo?”

“No…?” But he did. The knowledge scorched his chest. It was so silent. Tubbo’s ears rang. Schlatt turned, faced the audience with a grand gesture and grin, a grin that quickly soured into a horrible grimace.

“Nothing good.”

Tubbo slouched against the wall for support.

“Hey, uh, Technoblade! You wanna come up here for a second?” “Come up here, come up, Technoblade. Come up to the podium.” Quackity only ever served as Schlatt’s echo.

Tubbo’s eyes widened. Of course, Technoblade! His ally, the only one who could save him. He thought there was no hope, he thought he was to be shot like a dog, but there was hope in the gallery, adorned with a crown and tusks. He quickly advanced as Schlatt continued speaking.

“Let’s just send a message real quick. We like to send messages around here.” Schlatt looked around for agreement, continued on with a few uneasy nods.

“Now that we got Tubbo here in this- in this-” He cut himself off with a low, delighted chuckle. “In this Tub-box.” Tubbo grit his teeth, clenched his jaw. He really was just a spectacle. He shied back from the derisive laughter.

“Look him right in the eyes.” Techno positioned himself in front of Tubbo, his eyes dark and untelling. Tubbo had no idea what he felt despite his nervous laughter.

Please stop this.

“Tubbo, as the enemy of the state, and as, uh, perpetrator, to these, ah, these awful, awful people…”

Tubbo stuttered, stared death in the eyes as realization grasped his heart in talons.

“Technoblade, please, please, if you would, if you would be so kind.”

“What- what are you asking, Schlatt?”

The voice of the blood god was terribly innocuous , awfully anxious. Everyone knew exactly what Schlatt was asking.

“Take care of this traitor.”

Technoblade paused, and Tubbo saw his hesitation.

Don’t do it. You won’t. You wouldn’t. Surely not. Technoblade was armed to the teeth.

“Technoblade, we’re running on a tight schedule.”

“I don’t know what you’re asking, Mr. President.” They were all playing dumb. Schlatt chuckled.

“Listen, I mean, we- I only call you in for special favors. I mean, we go way back, right.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“This man-” Schlatt gestured to Tubbo. He shrank away. “-this man needs a special favor.”

And there was Quackity, now, finally shouldering his way in.

“Wait, Schlatt, what are you actually talking about?” Perhaps finally, he realized what was going on, what Schlatt’s intent was. Perhaps now he would help.

“Techno, I need you to take him out.”

It was too late.

Protests finally rose out, loud and overwhelming as it was made clear that this was not a prank, it was not a joke. It was an execution. And Schlatt’s patience ran thin.

“I NEED YOU TO KILL TUBBO, on this FUCKING STAGE RIGHT NOW. And MAKE IT HURT.”

It was so silent, it was almost comedic. Techno stuttered, took a step back. The audience shouted, roiled and revolted, but were silenced by Schlatt’s furious response.

“I'LL HAVE NO TRAITORS IN MY GODDAMN COUNTRY, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? MY RIGHT HAND MAN.” He slowed down, panted and wheezed as he caught his breath and composed himself, straightened his tie as silence again stifled the audience. Schlatt turned to Tubbo, and he wedged himself in the corner.

“Tubbo. I’d rather rule alone than with you.”

Tubbo didn’t know why it hurt so much to hear.

“Fuck it. I can’t even look at you.” Schlatt turned away with a disgusted jerk of his head.Shock was a hell of a drug. It rendered Tubbo mute, and he gave up. Death stood in front of him, pressure surrounding him as closely as the concrete surrounded Tubbo, and Tubbo could do nothing but look him in the eyes as he teetered between decisions.

Surely not. Surely not. Surely not. Surely not. He kept repeating it, over and over, a death hymn, because surely not. Surely not, Techno would not kill him. Surely not. They were on the same side. Surely not. But he watched anxiety flare behind his eyes as he was overwhelmed, as he strained and crashed and finally snapped, and again he told himself, surely not. This was not happening, surely not. Schlatt wouldn’t kill him, surely not. This was not disbelief, surely not, but rather the truth. Tommy wouldn’t let this happen, surely not. Wilbur would not let this happen, surely not. Surely they would save him. Surely. Surely not.

Quackity approached Schlatt, cautious, careful, as though he was approaching a dangerous animal. Truthfully, Schlatt was dangerous. Unpredictable. His wicked horns all but proved it.

“Schlatt, are you sure? I mean, I mean, he’s jailed! I think that’s enough for him.”

“We could just imprison him,” Technoblade agreed, but Tubbo gave up hoping.

“Not enough.” Schlatt was firm in his decision and insistent in it’s fulfilment.

“Schlatt, are you sure?” Quackity repeated. Tubbo appreciated the effort, but knew Schlatt would remain steadfast. “He’s jailed!”

Schlatt ignored him.

“Technoblade!”

Tubbo stared his ally down.

“Technoblade…” Technoblade pulled back the bowstring.

“Are you going to do it?”

Surely not.

Tubbo grew frantic. “Technoblade? Tech- Technoblade!”

“You gonna make an example out of him?” Schlatt’s tone suggested no other option. Tubbo trembled as the crossbow was held to his forehead, yelped as Technoblade took a swipe at him with a pickaxe.

“Technoblade! Technoblade!”

“Tubbo.” Technoblade’s voice was soft. Some god of death indeed, pliant to a mortal’s will, the executioner of another’s hand. And yet his life still laid in his blade, his firearms and his own resolve. Tubbo hardly dared to breath in his direction. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to be executed. He was at his indeterminant mercy.

“Tubbo, I’m sorry.” Tubbo didn’t need to hear anything else before he frantically clawed at the walls, desperate, terrified as it dawned on him that his fate had been decided.

“I’ll make this as- as painless and colorful as possible.”

“What the hell?!” Schlatt’s laughter rang in his ears, and Tubbo was enraged that he was reduced to this, that his death was a show to him.

“Tubbo, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Tubbo.”

He didn’t have time to shut his eyes when the first rocket shattered his skull.

Surely not.

It wasn’t quick. He was left thrashing for several seconds before he was put out of his misery.

Surely not.

He was blown away by such a beautiful death. It was so bright. A flare of light, searing his skull, beautiful and savage and vivid.

Surely.

He understood now why Schlatt chose that yellow concrete. He understood fully.

The blood- his blood- lay against it so stark, so vibrant in color and shade, glistening against the sunny cheerfulness of the backdrop.

Yellow, like the sun, rising over a landscape of death, of dripping, dripping blood. Dancing in the true sun, the sun that was setting on his time alive, his life fading away, his viewpoint from the sky watching the shadows grow as blood coated the true sky.

His body sank to the floor. If there was even a head on it- he didn’t know. Technoblade pulled another firework into the crossbow, He turned and fired it into the crowd, satisfaction on his face as more blood stained and people cried out.

Tubbo sat there, in the sky. Watched as his eyes dimmed to nothingness- and suddenly- there was weight to his body again. Suddenly, there was darkness.

Suddenly, he sank.

His body hurt. His face was on fire. Blood was pouring from his mouth- his nose- his eyes-

If they were even there. Tubbo flopped onto his back and writhed, screaming himself hoarse at the pain.

God, the pain.

His hands were slick with blood- he wanted to press them to his face and stop the flow, but it stung so bad he only shrieked more.

“Tubbo!”

A body thumped to the ground beside him, another following suit.

“Oh my god.” Gentle hands grabbed at him, lifting him up so the blood flowed down- his airways clearing as he sobbed and hissed in pain.

“Tommy, get me water.”

Shuffling. “Now.”

“Wilbur?” He coughed. “Wilbur, is that you?”

“Yes-” His voice was fading in and out- fuzzy and gentle. “It’s me- Stay awake, Tubbo. Stay with me.”

“I’m not.” Tubbo realized his words slurred and tried to make them clearer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Thank you, Tommy.” A singular hand left him, ghosting over his face- which still screamed, the pain was unbearable, rendering him useless, unable to function. He winced.

“It’s not too bad, Tubbo.” Wilbur’s voice was calm, cutting through his confusion and agony. “It looks like being dead healed up the… interior damage. Although.”

“A-al…” Tubbo faltered.

“Your eyes.” Wilbur said, softly. “They’re- They’re unsalvageable.”

If Tubbo had any more energy to cry- he would have. He would have sobbed until he couldn’t anymore. Him? Blind? He merely made a noise of acceptance in the back of his throat.

Tubbo sat there for a moment longer, the shock of his eyes being gone… forever- momentarily overshadowing the pain.

He zoned back in when he heard Tommy’s voice.

“-I think I have- here, you can borrow this, Wilbur.”

There was another silence, then Wilbur’s grip tightened on his shoulder.

“This might sting. You’ll be okay. Tommy is right here.”

“Tommy?”

Tommy’s hand closed around his own, warm, strong. He tried to imagine Tommy’s face, a gentle smile- blonde hair- the stupid, red bandanna- but failed. All he saw was darkness. All he would ever see was darkness.

Darkness.

#tubbo #schlatt #quackity #technoblade #wilbur #tommy #clingyduo #dreamsmp #mcyt #dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #wilbur soot

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 4 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader go on their first date. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Adults w/ Age Gap (10yr), exhibitionism, masturbation, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, Prof/Student fantasy Word Count: 8.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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When I was younger, I hated going to museums. Granted, I'd only ever really had the opportunity to go during school field trips. The crackling, barely coherent ramblings of a stranger through a loudspeaker had never been my idea of fun.

In fact, I'd been to that exact museum before. But the present time was a little different. That time, I was enthralled with the objects on the other side of the glass. With wide eyes and childlike wonder revived, I was hanging on every word out of Spencer's mouth.

I knew the guy was probably a genius, but I had no idea how much of a genius he was until he was recounting the entire history of civilization like he'd been reading straight from an encyclopedia. He looked like a hilarious mix of proud and embarrassed when he finally admitted his IQ. Meanwhile, I had to admit that I not only had no fuckin' clue what my IQ was, I was certain it was significantly lower than his.

He didn't seem to mind.

In a way, I thought it was strange when he told me he wanted to bring me to a place like that. After all, I'd told him I wanted to learn more about him. I figured a museum would teach me about everything else, not him.

But seeing him in this environment told me more about him than I ever could have imagined. I learned about his avid love for the most trivial facts, the way his inflection changed when he got excited, and that despite reading probably hundreds of thousands of books, his hunger for knowledge was still very much alive and well.

Most of all, I learned that Spencer Reid was unlike any man I'd ever seen before.

It was a bad idea. Because when we finally made our way out of the final exhibit, I didn't want to leave. Not even close. If you'd told my mother I spent several hours in a museum and didn't want to leave, she'd never believe you.

"Hey, so..." I started, pausing outside the gift shop on our way out. "It's almost 5. Did you want to grab dinner before we head back? I have worked up quite the appetite listening to you for the past 4 hours."

"Has it really been that long?" he asked incredulously before glancing down at his watch wrapped over his shirt.

I tried very hard, and failed, to suppress a giggle at the habit.

"I'm honestly surprised you still have spit left in your mouth," I joked as I swayed closer to him, almost enough to touch him.

"Ha ha, very funny," he replied. A slight pout formed on his face. I almost enjoyed the swapped roles; it wasn't often that he was the one who looked so forlorn.

"Come on, I'm joking!" I laughed before slipping my arm around his and pulling him closer to me.

Spencer glanced down in surprise, staring at my chest that was now fully pressed against his arm. Although, the way he looked at me was nothing compared to the response he'd given after I showed up in a pleated skirt that better belonged on a Catholic schoolgirl.

But I mean, like I'd said, I used to go there on school trips. It was only fair.

"I love listening to you talk, Spencer. You know that."

The speed with which he looked away when I finished talking was enough to tell me that I had said the wrong thing. His goofy, playful demeanor vanished so quickly, I'd almost gotten whiplash. He didn't remove his arm, instead clearing his throat and pulling out a brochure from his pocket to look at nearby places to eat.

A bit reserved, he asked if I was interested in one of the closer casual restaurants, to which I agreed. At that point, I removed myself from his side and was only a little surprised to see the way his body immediately relaxed.

I wanted to believe he just didn't like to be touched, which I was certain was true, but he was behaving differently with me than he had before. We'd touched in public before, a lot more than that, and we'd known each other a lot less!

But of course, that was probably why. The closer we got, the farther away he felt.

The walk to the restaurant was slightly awkward, so after a moment I decided to break the silence.

"You said you grew up in Vegas, right?"

"Yeah, until I moved to go to school," he explained, looking around at the surroundings of the D.C. crowds winding down rather than turning his attention back to me.

At least I was finally learning more about him.

"Where did you go?"

"Caltech."

He was keeping his answers short, but I feel like he might still be a little embarrassed at my little jab at the museum. That was fine, I knew ways to make him talk. I clasped my hands behind me as I walked by his side, still tempted to touch him somehow, however ill advised.

"Was it hard being away from your family? That's a few hours away, isn't it?"

He laughed awkwardly, a sure sign that I'd forgotten that him and I come from different worlds.

"Well, I was barely 13, so... My mom was kind of legally obligated to follow me."

He was so cute, and he definitely wasn't aware of it.

"Right, sorry, forgot about the genius thing for a minute. Don't know how."

The smile he returned was genuine, which helped my guilt for bothering him yet again. But in my defense, it was easy to do when he was a literal genius and I was barely scraping by half the time.

As we arrived, we were seated in a booth near the back of the restaurant. I offered him the booth with a view of the door because I'd figured he would want it. He gave me a strange side glance at my assumption, like I was hiding something from him that would grant me the knowledge that it would be more comfortable for him to be able to see the door.

I didn't want to talk about how I knew that, though.

Instead, I asked, "Do you like it here? In Virginia?"

He nodded as he flipped open the menu, speaking almost scripted answers absentmindedly, "I do, but mostly because it's been so long that everyone I know is here."

I'd already been here before, so I didn't bother looking at the menu. Naturally, he'd only required a few seconds to read it. When he made eye contact again, I spoke through my thoughts.

"You said you're a profiler for the..."

"Behavioral Analysis Unit."

His tone was a mix of pride and nerves, which immediately made me nervous.

"I haven't looked it up yet because I'm scared about what I might find. What do you guys do, exactly?"

The server brought us drinks just in time to pause his answer, which he seemed to appreciate. I figured it was either a tough job to explain, or he didn't want to share that part of his life with me just yet (or, potentially, ever).

Spencer lowered his voice like he usually did when he talked about work.

"We profile the behavior of serial killers. Sometimes for research, but mostly to assist local police in catching them."

"Oh..." I started, stopping mid-sip of my drink. It was a lot to take in at once. "So... yeah, I'm glad I didn't google it."

He scrunched his mouth in that unsure way, like he wanted to explain to me how he really felt about his job. Something in the bags under his eyes told me he hasn't talked about this in a long time. At least, not like he should. But he didn't talk about it. He looked away, opting to say nothing at all.

"Doesn't it get to you?" I pushed, trying to offer him the platform to talk about the thing that no doubt consumes most of his life.

"Does what get to me?" His voice sounded so far away.

"Spencer, when I met you, you were whisked away at the crack of dawn to go talk about serial killers. On a weekend. The second time you showed up at my place after clearly not having slept, I'm guessing straight from work..."

His eyes narrowed as I spoke, like I was talking from a tightrope that I could plummet off any second. He seemed scared that I would speak something into existence he wasn't ready to face himself.

"You're surrounded by evil all the time. You're responsible for learning, recognizing, and manipulating evil. That can't be easy."

Spencer's eyes were glazed over in a way I couldn't describe. He seemed defensive, steeled, and absolutely terrified. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, opting instead to stare down at the menu in front of him.

He shrugged as he halfheartedly concluded, "I guess that's one way to look at it. We also get to see a lot of good."

"Yeah..." I nodded solemnly, recognizing the dismissive thoughts from my own experience.

He was downplaying the great likelihood of traumatic memories he carried, as if he could will away the damage. Like it would stop existing if he could convince himself it wasn't that bad.

I wondered what had happened to him on the job for him to already have forgotten that things didn't have to be the worst possible to matter. That he still deserved better. That hurt does not require permission.

I couldn't stop myself, needing to see how he reacted when I continued, "But which do you see more of?"

I never got my answer. The server once again saved him from a conversation that got away from him. The presence of a third, impartial person shifted the mood back to what it was in the museum. I wondered how much was an act, both back then and in that moment.

Deciding it best not to dwell on the thought, I tried to forget about the darkness brewing in those coffee colored eyes. Once our orders were in, he turned his attention to the cocktail menu still laying in the middle of the table with a smile.

"I'm almost surprised you didn't try to order alcohol," he half-joked.

I leaned forward on the table, bringing a hand up to my mouth and whispering, "I heard there might be an undercover fed here, so, never can be too safe."

The bubbly, childish laugh that followed renewed my faith in him. He had that kind of infectious laugh that made you forget that badness existed at all. Once our ruckus had died down, he looked at me with the softness that had drawn me to him in the first place.

"You're cute."

When the words registered in my mind, I couldn't believe I'd heard them. The way his expression changed shortly after the words left his mouth told me he hadn't meant to say them aloud. But their effect on me was not at all stifled by his momentary lapse in judgment.

I'd wondered if it was getting hotter in the building, or if it was just my nerves getting the best of me. But it wasn't bothering Spencer, who was about to down yet another cup of coffee in front of him. I cleared my throat, trying to not look like a schoolgirl whose crush had just checked 'yes' on a note asking if he liked me.

Pointing to the mug in front of him, I joked, "How do you sleep?"

"Honestly? I usually don't."

That was the goofy overly literal dork I wanted to see more of.

"I can think of one way to wear you out," I suggested, lifting my leg to press the top of my foot against his leg under the booth.

He raised his eyebrows, giving a simple glance down to acknowledge the contact. Then his eyes were back on me, staring deeply with a hunger that would not be satisfied by whatever dish they brought out to us.

"I can think of several."

Humming cheerfully, I continued to run my foot up and down his leg. My cheeks flushed with my growing desire that I'd managed to put off for several hours. I was honestly shocked that I'd spent the whole day with this man, and only then thought about sleeping with him.

"It's too bad we can't," I pouted. "My roommate is back in town. Not sure she'd appreciate all the noise."

That time as my foot drew up his leg, he shifted in his seat so that his legs moved closer to me, extending the contact for a few seconds longer.

"Not to mention, I don't think you'd like to deal with several 20-year-olds."

The way he behaved whenever I pointed out my age was endlessly entertaining. That time, though, he seemed significantly less bothered.

"One is already borderline for me," he teased back.

I gasped, clutching at my chest as I batted my eyelashes just dramatically enough to showcase my pride.

"You flatter me, Dr. Reid."

He almost choked on his coffee as he stifled a chuckle, putting it down as he shook his head.

"Only you would take that as a compliment."

Recognizing this repartee as the foreplay it had always accompanied, I leaned forward on my elbows towards him. He immediately mirrored the movement, putting our faces much closer to each other than they'd been all day.

"What can I say? I enjoy being a challenge."

"Yes, you do." He hadn't even thought about it, responding almost instantaneously, suggesting once more that he could actually read my mind.

"How are you so good at that?" I kept the question vague on purpose.

He didn't fall for it.

"I'm good at a lot of things. Which are you referring to?"

What a cocky bastard. A very handsome, ridiculously sexy, dork of a bastard.

But he wasn't the only one at the table that knew how to get someone hot and bothered.

"Your humility is my favorite part, Dr. Reid." I stuck my tongue out at the end of the sentiment, a cheeky grin that reflected on him just as quickly.

"Quoting me? That's bold."

Deciding it had been too long since I had touched him, I lifted my hand to press a single finger against his chest as I taunted, "You aren't the only person with a good memory."

He leaned back at this point, backing away from my finger and the heated exchange.

"I don't have a good memory. I have an eidetic memory."

He had been very proud of that fact earlier when I asked him why the hell he was able to list off every single word from a museum display we'd seen an hour earlier. I'd asked him if it was the same as a photographic memory, and he'd gone on a rant about the pejorative connotations of the term. I wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole again today.

Instead, I took the same hand that had touched him moments before, curling all but one finger into a fist.

"So you'll be able to remember this forever?" I cooed as I held up my middle finger.

"I'll just file that away with the most important memories, like birthdays and the works of Arthur Conan Doyle," he sighed in response, graciously admitting defeat.

I was not brave enough to tell him I had no idea who that was, but I was sure I'd learn one day. That one, I thought, was probably safe to google. While he filed away my crude gesture, I filed away yet another fun fact to surprise him with later.

"You are, by far, the most interesting person I've ever met," I implored, to which he immediately shot back, "I could say the same about you. And I regularly talk to serial killers."

Touché, Dr. Reid.

"I'm flattered," was the last word I got in edgewise before our food arrived.

The rest of our time in the restaurant went very similarly, with teasing comments that built the sexual tension that was already too big for this tiny room. Our legs never stopped touching throughout the entire meal. Maybe that was why, when it was finally time to leave, we both felt a strange mixture of excited and sad. Once we were no longer behind the booth, it was back to pretending like we weren't constantly trying not to pounce on the other.

The walk to the metro was equal parts long and tense. At one point I'd swayed closer to him than I intended, and our sides brushed up against one another. Unlike before in the museum, he hadn't moved away. I couldn't believe something so minuscule could made me so happy.

The metro was more crowded than I'd anticipated. The fact that the station is underground was usually enough to make me feel a little claustrophobic, but the number of people bustling around me felt especially overwhelming. I couldn't help but chastise myself for having worn a skirt, considering the stark number of perverted men in places like these.

Spencer's touch woke me from my reverie. His arm had wrapped around my lower back with such unassuming delicacy, I'd hardly registered it at first. He was looking down at me with concern covering his features as he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry, there's a lot of people here."

I had one hand holding my skirt down against my leg, the other crossed over my chest.

"Makes me nervous," I further explained.

"Can I help?"

Even though he was offering, I could tell the crowds bothered him just as much. Thankfully, his presence was enough for me.

"You already are."

There was something so calming about his presence that was hard to explain. It wasn't his ability to physically protect me, considering he didn't have his weapon with him most of the time I was with him. It wasn't his emotional availability (or lack thereof). It was more like he exuded some chemical that made me docile. It was hard to explain.

I just liked him, okay?

When our train pulled in it was relatively crowded, but we managed to grab two seats near the back of a car. I sighed in relief as I plopped down into the plastic chair, happy to finally be able to rest my legs.

With Spencer on the aisle seat and us on our way back to Franconia Springfield Station, I let myself relax. My head dropped down onto his shoulder without much thought, and my entire body slumped over with it.

"How am I supposed to stay awake for this when you're so comfy?" I mumbled, looking down at the hem of my pleated skirt as I fiddled with it.

"That certainly sounds like quite the predicament," he said in what I assume was jest.

He sat up, bumping my head off his shoulder for a moment. I interpreted it to be a subtle way of telling me not to do it, but once he had shrugged off his cardigan, he looked at me like he was confused I hadn't resumed the position.

Armed with a simper, I cuddled up even closer this time, wrapping my arms around his and resting my cheek against his shoulder. I wasn't sure why he had gotten so open to touch, but I wasn't going to complain.

He didn't say anything when he draped his cardigan over my lap, covering my knees peeking out from under my skirt. A nice gesture, I thought as my body instinctively gravitated towards him. It wasn't until I closed my eyes that the pieces started to come together.

I was on the metro, in a skirt, with Spencer Reid's hand slowly but surely inching up my thigh.

My eyes shot open, and I tensed my grip around his arm. It was the only thing I did to betray my otherwise composed and unassuming position.

His breath was hot on my ear as he leaned over to me and began to whisper, "Do you know the idea that people fall asleep after sex is less true for women than men? Many speculate it's because women are just neglected in bed, but that's not quite it."

I didn't dare respond, hardly trusting myself to breathe as his hand continued to move closer to me.

"Both sexes do release the same chemicals during orgasm. Oxytocin to stimulate smooth muscle contraction and initiate the need to bond, prolactin to relieve arousal and signal satiation, and the leftover gamma aminobutyric acid, dopamine, and serotonin..."

I couldn't understand how he'd managed to make the lecture sound sexy, but I was too lost in the sound of his voice to bother thinking about it then.

"Still, women are less likely to fall asleep. Sure, they typically exert less physical energy during sex, but what about those women like you with a penchant for going for a ride?"

A woozy, lovesick smile spread across my face at the reference to our first encounter.

"Those women might still stay awake for longer and may actually be more invigorated after reaching climax. And it's all thanks to their naturally lessened refractory period."

I nodded dumbly, gasping lightly once I felt his fingers make contact through the flimsy cotton of my underwear.

"Which might sound like a curse. But it's not. It means that those lucky women can reach multiple orgasms in succession. Some partners just aren't willing to put in that kind of effort," he continued, tracing a finger up and down my folds through the fabric.

"But I'm not one of them."

His words were strong, and I buried my face into his shoulder, trying not to alert the entire car what was happening underneath his cardigan.

"I would much rather watch you come undone. Again, and again, and again. I want to make sure that when I'm done with you, you can't keep your eyes open."

My breath was getting quicker, and I let out a small squeak against his shirt as he pressed down on the bundle of nerves at my center, drawing circles around it.

"That being said, if you need something to keep you awake, I do have a solution. But if you make a single noise, I will stop."

I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip to prevent any noise from slipping out. My legs were wavering between opening and closing as I tried to keep them apart. I could feel how damp I was getting. My hips were moving with a mind of their own, rocking toward his hand. It took all of my concentration not to give us away.

I choked on my breath as a sly finger snuck into the side of my underwear, allowing entrance to the others that followed.

"Shhh," he hushed, pressing a soft kiss on the top of my head. Underneath my skirt, though, he was much less chaste. Slipping two fingers into my heat, I could have sworn I heard him laugh from above me.

I didn't dare look at him, nervous that the moment I did, I would lose all control.

"I had no idea it would be so easy to get you to follow directions. Are you that worried you might get caught?"

He could feel my heartbeat against his arm. He must have been able to, because I was suffocating against his arm. My hands clenched around him like he was the only lifeline in an ocean of pleasure.

"Imagine what they would think if they knew what you let me do to you. What you beg me to do to you."

My legs were beginning to tremble around him as he stroked me from the inside. All I could feel was him. His hands, his breath, his words.

"Is that why you wore this skirt? A naughty little schoolgirl fantasizing about an older man touching you like this?"

He quickened the pace of thrusting into me, his words getting more insistent as the train was almost empty now, closing in on our stop.

"Is it everything you thought it would be? No. Can't be. You wish there was something else of mine in between your legs."

I couldn't explain how, but my climax snuck up on me. When it happened, it smashed into me like a wave crashing onto the shore. I gasped for breath against his arm, and he thankfully took mercy on me. Despite definitely making a noise, he continued his motions, palming at the crest of my folds to give me one last boost of stimulation.

I shook around him, my thighs tightening onto his arm as I finally found release. I could hear the announcement calling for our station, but it felt worlds away. Still, Spencer pulled his hand out from underneath our pile of clothes, wiping the evidence of our escapade against the inside of my skirt before also removing his arm from underneath my tight grip.

"Son of a bitch," I puffed, relaxing all my muscles at once as I tried to retain control over my pulse. I could barely think straight.

"You're welcome," he beamed, as if he hadn't just gone full dominant as he finger fucked me on the metro.

I didn't understand how the hell he expected me to get up and walk off like nothing happene, but somehow, I managed. I stood with wobbly legs and a flustered state of mind until he linked his arm with mine and led me off the car and into the station. I clung to the assistance, grateful that he was once again taking pity on me.

However, it felt like it wouldn't last long. Once we'd gotten to his car, he helped me in before climbing into the driver's seat. It was silent for a moment, like he wanted me to ask him a question that I wasn't willing to ask.

I didn't want the night to be over, but if he asked me if I was ready to go home, I'd have to say yes. After all, it wasn't proper form to invite myself to his apartment. Especially with how weird he got whenever I got close to him.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

The pity was gone.

I didn't think before I spoke, immediately responding as a joke, "Not unless it's yours."

The silence was back.

Oops.

I realized that I'd spoken out loud at the same time he delivered his response; I was going to stop him, but he was too quick.

"My place it is, then."

I couldn't help but smile, my cheeks burning as I asked quietly, like my volume might change his mind, "Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

I didn't have an answer. We didn't talk for a moment, enjoying the contented silence as I texted my roommate to tell her that I was going to be late home, if I came at all. I was hoping for the latter. Once that was sent off, I returned my gaze to the man paying almost full attention to the road.

"You know, I have to get you back for what you did back there."

He smirked, not breaking away from the road as he replied, "I did you a favor."

"A cruel favor," I whined, turning in my chair as I buckled my seat belt so I could get closer to him.

"No such thing," he corrected, although I think we both knew there very well could be such a thing.

"Uh-huh."

I watched him for a moment, trying to decide the best way to get back at him. I could always try the most relevant payback...

He didn't even notice my hand reaching out until it was already sliding up his thigh at a rapid pace.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as if it weren't already obvious.

"Getting you back," I snickered as I finally made it up his leg, palming the quickly forming erection under his pants.

"I'm driving!" His voice was so high pitched it was heartwarming. It was like our roles had switched, even just for a second.

"I'm not stopping you from driving!"

Obviously trying to compose himself, he grabbed my wrist and held it in the air and out of reach of him.

"Unless you want to crash this car, you'd better wait until we get back to my place."

It was a valid warning, but not one I wanted to hear.

"Spoil sport."

"At least you're alive!"

It was back to the sexual tension from before in the restaurant. I wanted to touch him, and I was guessing based on the visible tent in his pants, he wanted me. So, I got to thinking, and I figured that if I wasn't allowed to touch him, that only left one other person.

"... What are you doing?"

It was a valid question. He'd glanced over to see my hand traveling up my own skirt as I parted my legs just enough to maneuver beneath my underwear.

"Nothing," I hummed, now looking at him with half-lidded eyes as I rocked forward onto my hand.

"That's cruel." He sounded so devastated to see that I was doing what he couldn't, despite the fact he had his hand in this exact spot not that long ago.

My fingers dipped between my folds, collecting the remnants of the orgasm he had given me as I crooned, "What? You said I couldn't touch you while you're driving. I'm not touching you. You're welcome."

I opened my eyes just enough to see the way he tightened his grip on the steering wheel while trying not to look at me. Couldn't drive distracted. That was the entire reason why I was touching myself and not him.

"Unless, of course, you do consider this part of me as your property. In which case, I'm not going to stop, anyway," I snickered.

Rewarding myself with a soft moan, I tried to prolong the experience the best I could. It was hard when every couple of seconds he would look over at me. I hadn't thought that I would find his anger that attractive, but there I was, coming apart at the seams already based on nothing but a look.

He was thoroughly unamused, which only egged me on, honestly. I didn't care if I was being overdramatic as I touched myself, I wanted him to think about what he was missing. Which was why I didn't stop myself from moaning. Pants and gasps echoed throughout the car as I picked up my pace.

"I hope you're ready for the consequences of this very poorly thought out decision."

On the contrary, Spencer. I had very clearly thought it through. I was thinking it so clearly I could picture his hands where mine were, among other parts of him.

Thinking about how to dig an even deeper hole for myself, I found the perfect mechanism.

"Mmm, Professor Reid," I cried, recognizing that it would either infuriate him or bring him a great sense of pride. I was fine with either.

I closed my eyes so I could better envision the fantasy that was actually just a memory. For now. With my eyes closed, I couldn't tell much of what was going on outside of my touch, trying to ignore the man beside me as best as I could. I wanted him to suffer.

Spencer, however, had other plans. With both eyes still on the road, his hand had found its way to my legs, where it shot up to join mine. He removed my hand quickly and replaced it with his own.

There was no subtlety or warm up this time. Without any hesitation, he dipped a finger into my heat just to remove it and begin rubbing harsh circles over my clit. I couldn't stop the yell that resulted, and seconds later I came undone against him.

As soon as the spasming stopped, he removed his hand, not speaking a word or even looking at me. I'd realized at that point that he'd only finished me off because he hadn't wanted to grant me the satisfaction of doing it myself. He was asserting that yes, in some sense, he viewed this as a part of his property.

I was oddly okay with that.

"Is the silent treatment my punishment?" I asked with a pout after a few moments of nothing.

He laughed bitterly back, finally looking at me for a moment before vaguely replying, "No. Your punishment will be much more fun for me."

I had to admit the implication that the silent treatment wasn't fun for him was flattering, at least. I was glad to hear that he enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed listening to him talk.

But for the moment, I was sort of exhausted. Not in the way that would make me fall asleep, but in the I-just-had-two-orgasms-let-me-recoup way. Even though we enjoyed talking, those moments were refreshing in their own way. The best kind of connections were the ones that could always be maintained, even in the quiet.

Despite it not being my punishment, Spencer remained fairly quiet the rest of the way home. I wondered if part of that was due to him brewing a plan for what would happen when we got there.

God, I hoped so.

As we pulled up to the nondescript building, I had to admit I was a bit disappointed to find Spencer didn't live in some whimsical fantasy like I'd always envisioned. The building looked like every other one. But, at the same time, I couldn't want to see the inside. If I had to bet, there would be a lot of books and a stark lack of computers.

Walking into Apt #23, I was only a little surprised by what I saw. The warm green tones of his walls were complimented by red and brown accents, and my theory was quickly proven correct.

"Whoa," I mumbled under my breath, "It's like a library."

"You must go to some pretty small libraries, then."

I rolled my eyes. Like his usual attempts at humility, Spencer failed horribly.

I spun around on my heels to face him, but at the same time as I heard the lock flip into place, I felt his hand around my arm. Spencer's movements were quick as he gripped tightly on my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was his bedroom.

Weirdly, I was still trying to take in my surroundings rather than focus on fucking him. It made sense, I figured. I had already experienced two orgasms today, whereas he had none.

Oops. Guess I really was a spoiled brat.

But seriously—I was in his apartment! I wanted to snoop, dammit!

Spencer wasn't going to give me an opportunity, though. He'd even made a point of shutting the door to his room once we were inside. Something told me he would keep a close eye on me as long as he could. That was probably deserved, considering that within the first few hours of interacting with him, I had answered a call from his boss.

In my defense, it had been fucking hilarious.

He led me to stand in front of him, and out of instinct and habit, I moved forward to kiss him. I never made it to his lips, though. Spencer pushed me aside toward the bed, and I laughed as I leaned over it, making a point of flipping up the back of my skirt.

"I've been bad, Professor," I giggled, turning to glance back at him from the position I had happily assumed without being told.

He had that dark fire in his eyes that usually came before a storm.

He looked like he was ready to break me. I was ready to be broken.

"Are you going to teach me another biology lesson?"

When his hands touched me, they were as tender as ever. He caressed my hips where I had turned the skirt up, hooking his fingers around the waistband of the underwear and casually removing them.

"No, I'm afraid not."

He sounded delighted despite the words he spoke.

"This will be a very different kind of lesson."

Oh, I realized all at once.

"A lesson in discipline?" I inquired, swaying my hips underneath his hands and waiting for confirmation.

The loss of his hand on one side caused anticipation to build. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

It was hard to tell which happened first. Instantaneously, his hand came down hard on the soft skin of my backside as he responded, "Yes."

The adrenaline that coursed through my veins in response shook any feelings of fatigue I might have sustained throughout the day. I welcomed his body heat against my back as he leaned forward against me, and used his weight to press me down into his bed.

"Unless you've changed your mind."

"No!" I shouted back much too forcefully before gripping onto the sheets in front of me. "I deserve to be punished, Professor Reid."

He withdrew from me and, within seconds, brought his hand down on me again, that time striking the other side. The snapping sound of the contact was enough to elicit a response. I clamped my legs together and gave a soft mewl. Appreciating my vocal response, the next two hits came in rapid succession. I could feel the warmth building in the skin, the breeze from the motions acted as a buffer for the delicious sting.

He roughly grabbed both cheeks in front of him, for no reason other than wanting to. I groaned at the sensation of the tender flesh being handled, which only led him to release one to smack it once more. He followed with the other, appreciating the balance required of this particular punishment. I wasn't going to stop him. I was happy to continue. But something told me that he was breaching the point of comfort in his own conscience.

He was always so worried he would break me. I couldn't say it wasn't endearing. That didn't stop him from giving each side one more forceful blow, however, which earned him a mangled cry from deep in my chest. His body was against mine again, one of his hands reaching around to tilt my head up, despite not being able to see him. I was beginning to think he just enjoyed manipulating my body at will. To see how far I would let him.

"I think you're starting to get it, (y/n)."

"Yes," I responded, not caring if it didn't make much sense in response.

Despite the fact he'd already finished me twice today, I somehow already wanted him again. Maybe it was the allure of finally being able to fuck him in his own bed, or maybe it was the desire to see him fall apart as a reminder that I'm not the only one desperate for the other's touch.

So quickly he returned to the gentle, barely there traces along my skin.

"Punishment looks good on you," he praised, and something about the way he said it filled me with pride.

"You look good on me, too, sir," I slurred as he continued to draw feathery markings on the abused skin. He chuckled, finally moving up along my back before I interrupted his thoughts and appreciation once more.

"Fuck me," I begged. I wanted him and didn't care how I got it. "Let me help you feel good."

The hands that had inflicted pain moments ago were now gently massaging my shoulders through my top. I sighed, relaxing further into his touch. So easily I had become complacent to his desire. I let him do whatever he wanted, trusting that he would never do anything to truly, honestly hurt me.

"Something tells me you're more interested in making yourself feel good," he asserted — quite correctly.

"Can't we have both?"

His silence told me he was considering my words. I knew that he didn't want to, since that would ruin the whole idea that this was a punishment in the first place. Then again, I didn't think he was fully committed to that idea anyway.

Dragging his hands once more down the plane of my back, he stopped to grip my hips and shift me backwards until I was pressed against him.

"You're lucky you look so fucking cute in that skirt," he growled.

I felt dizzy again already, drowning in the way his bed smelled like him.

"Mmm, I wore it just for you," I admitted, rubbing myself gently against his crotch now pressing into my bottom.

"Smart girl," he responded.

It felt like I was in a dream, to be there with him like that. For a long time, I'd thought I'd never see him again, let alone be laying on his bed.

I could hear him stripping behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder with a modest smile.

Time was not moving fast enough, I thought, but it was also moving too fast. Because as badly as I wanted him to ravish me, I was afraid what would happen when it was over.

I couldn't think about that in that moment, though.

Once he reached into his nightstand, I giggled with anticipation. He raised his eyebrows at me, unable to contain his own laughter.

"Oh, you're happy with yourself, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah."

When he returned to me, his hands were still gentle as they pushed my skirt back up where it had fallen. He revealed my body to himself, and I didn't have to be able to see it to know that my arousal spread down my inner thighs. I had, after all, already had two orgasms before now thanks to the man behind me.

"I'm also pretty happy with you," he whispered as he leaned over me.

With no warning, he fully entered me with one swift thrust. I whimpered at the feeling of him hitting against angered skin, mixed with the pleasure of being full once again. I clutched at the sheets and wished that they were him, wishing that I could somehow be even closer to him than I already was.

"We'll see if you still feel like smiling after I'm done with you."

It was the last thing he said before he began to ruthlessly pound into me. I struggled to scream as loudly as I wanted to, but I couldn't make any noise at all. My body seemed to have relented all control to him within seconds; I didn't put up a single battle. Although his grasp held me in place, I still attempted to cant my hips forward to allow him better access.

My chest and face were warm with friction from rubbing against the bed, and my knuckles were blanched from the force exerted to try and remain grounded. Each movement seemed so purposeful, much like the way he thrashed at my skin with his hand.

"Fuck me," were the first words I managed to string together.

With one forceful thrust, he held me down on him as all the moans I couldn't make previously came pouring out of me. I thought I might actually cry from how overstimulated the day was becoming. Seemingly reading my mind, Spencer pulled out of me entirely. I tried to reorient myself, but he stopped me. Using one hand to grab hold of my arm, he flipped me onto my back beneath him.

I hadn't even realized I was still wearing basically all of my clothes until he had to force my skirt back up again. Missing him between my legs, I began to crave him everywhere else, too. I struggled to pull my shirt over my head.

Spencer didn't stop me, just watching while he playfully rubbed his arousal at my entrance.

"Please, sir," I pleaded once I was finally able to lift my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and pulled him closer to me without letting him slip into me just yet.

"Just as impatient and needy as ever, (y/n)."

I chewed on my bottom lip, looking up at him with the puppy dog eyes that had always worked on him up to that point. It must have worked again, because he was sinking back into me before I knew it. My arms spread out across the bed, holding onto whatever I could reach as he set another brutal pace.

Our bodies melding together in a chaotic fusion of skin and fluids, I let myself get lost in the bliss of Spencer Reid laying claim to my body. I threw my head back, my eyes clamped shut as one of his hands came up to caress one of my breasts through my lacy bra.

"With undergarments like this, I have to wonder if you planned this all, young lady," he teased, no doubt referring to the matching underwear now discarded on the floor.

I opened my eyes to meet his, and for a second I was left breathless at the sight of him pumping into me. How I managed to say anything at all is a miracle.

"Never a plan, sir. But always a pleasure."

A flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he slowed down as he pressed, "Did you wear them for someone else, then?"

The way I arched my back caused him to push even further into me, and I had to pause to moan before I continued.

"Are you jealous?"

His hips snapped forward, producing a simultaneously jolt of pain and pleasure. His voice was breathy as he tried to hold himself together while speaking, "Should I be?"

Our eye contact caused tension so powerful that I was certain it was palpable. A devilish grin and a bit of a snicker was the provocation he needed to drive into me harder once again. I didn't even try to suppress the noises he elicited from me, tightening my grip around him with my legs.

"Take me," I whispered under my breath, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear me.

I couldn't tell if he did, but his hand switched sides of my chest, and our faces grew closer together.

"I'm yours," I slurred. I truthfully hadn't thought about the words when I gifted them to him, but he clearly took note of them. That time, it was his moan that filled the air in the room, and I had never felt so excited by one of his responses. I chased after the feeling, locking eyes with him as both his hands grabbed my hips to begin the race to the finish.

"I'm yours, Spencer."

I didn't stop to wonder if I could play this off as part of the fantasy. I mean, it was part of my fantasy; the fantasy of being his, and him being mine.

He didn't object to my words then, either, and he had definitely heard me that time.

I smiled, barely noticing that he'd placed his fingers back on my heat, swiping frantically at my clit until I lost all composure underneath him. My hips rocked at no apparent rhythm, and distorted versions of his name broke through my mouth.

I hadn't even come down yet when he rammed into me with full force, bottoming out once again. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, followed by my muscles pulling everything out of him that they could.

The view of his satisfied face through my lust-filled daze was angelic. It appeared that he saw the same in me, but I couldn't be sure. Just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed, his arms giving in to his weight as he collapsed onto my chest.

His hair tickled my collarbones, and I laughed at how incredibly out of shape he was. Especially for an FBI Agent. Even if he did go on the field often, I figured the resident dork didn't need to be totally ripped, anyway.

And, hey, he was strong enough to treat me like a ragdoll, so who was I to judge?

"Tired?" I asked, taking a shaky hand to his head, playing with the soft brown curls damp from sweat.

"You aren't?" he slurred, his words smothered against my skin.

"I am fucking exhausted."

That time, we both laughed. He was clearly pleased that, despite any perceived weakness, he was still able to thoroughly wear me out. When he moved to leave me, I dropped my legs. I was surprised I had managed to hold them until then, honestly.

He fixed his hair that had fallen in his eyes first, and I smiled at the peculiar priority. It was cute, though.

"Do you have to take me home?"

I tried not to let the disappointment bleed into my voice, but it did. He tried not to notice. He didn't answer as he cleaned himself up, and I sat up to look at him — once the world stopped spinning, anyway.

"No."

The butterflies spiraled out of control, spreading through every inch of my soul. I must have been beaming, because he looked so very nervous.

"Thanks."

His response came in the form of an unsure smile, followed by a genuine appreciation.

I briefly wondered if he realized just how transparent he was, but then decided I didn't want to think about it. I excused myself to clean up before bed, taking a long moment to rub my skin with aloe from under the cabinet, only to realize that I had basically nothing clean to wear. I rolled my eyes at the situation, wondering how many red flags it would set off for me to ask Spencer for some of his clothes.

I could just be naked. He seemed to like me that way.

I padded back into the room, expecting him to be waiting up for me. He wasn't. Spencer had passed out on the bed before he even had a chance to get under the covers. I stood at the door for a moment, trying to appreciate the value of this quiet moment while I still could.

Stripping off my clothes as quiet as possible, I was careful not to wake him. However, that also meant I couldn't climb under the covers, either.

It isn't exactly snooping if I'm looking for something innocent, right? That's what I had to tell myself, regardless. Because I was not going to freeze my ass off over a hookup's paranoia. Glancing at the dresser, I almost convinced myself it wouldn't be an invasion of privacy to open it. Luckily, I didn't have to. Directly next to it was a hamper of clean, folded laundry, with a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt on top. While disappointed that I had lost my excuse, I was grateful I had stripped myself of the choice.

He deserved better than me trying to pry into his life like that.

Slipping into his clothes, I stopped to hug myself in the soft fabric. With him asleep, I felt comfortable taking a moment to revel in the position he'd allowed me to exist in. I was in his apartment, in his clothes, and I would soon be back in his arms.

For now.

I chased the inevitable end out of my thoughts, slinking onto the bed and shimmying over to him until his hands found me in his unconscious state. I faced him, my hands pressing softly against his chest to feel his heart happily working under my touch.

His eyes fluttered open for a second, just long enough to see the wonder in my own. A smile crept along his cheeks, and he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

I wondered if he recognized his own clothes, or if he even realized this was real. Then again, the alternative was him assuming that it'd all been a dream... and it was a pleasant one, it seemed.

"I'm happy," he confirmed in a hushed tone.

My heart almost stopped, and I peeked up at him, inching up so I could better see his face. His breathing evened back out as I felt the way he relaxed, quickly retreating back to the comfortable embrace of sleep.

"About what?" I whispered back.

Our legs twined together, and a soft sigh left his lips. I waited with bated breath for his response, although I don't think I could have ever been prepared for what followed.

"I'm happy that you're mine."

... What?

—————————————————

| Part 5 |

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

2K notes · View notes

sevlgi · 4 years

Text

dinner

requested: no

group: red velvet

pairing: joy x gn!reader

genre: fluff

contents: waitress!joy. [17/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: It’s way too difficult for Joy to watch you go on disaster dates, especially when she knows she could do so much better.

a/n: kdrama? no it’s just me

word count: 1.1k

Your first date was really freaking pretty.

Sooyoung remembered the way your cheeks flushed when the girl first arrived, the way you couldn’t stop smiling when she didn’t turn out to be a catfish.

Of course, the smile on your face slipped after about 15 minutes.

The girl wasn’t a catfish, but she was a gold digger without a personality- the entire time, she basically tried to seduce you instead of talk with you, and Sooyoung could easily tell how uncomfortable you were the whole time.

“Check, please,” you sighed, waving a hand halfheartedly once the girl had stormed off. Sooyoung winced at the price, but you just signed and handed her the money without a second glance at it. “Could I get a whiskey or something to go?”

The waitress didn’t have the heart to tell you that the restaurant didn’t allow her to give you alcohol to go, so she just silently handed you a little cup of amber liquid. “Have a nice night... Y/N,” she greeted, reading the name off of your receipt.

“Thanks.”

The second date was just as disastrous. For whatever reason, you and the second girl just didn’t seem to click at all, despite your efforts to stir up some kind of conversation. She was like a wall, and you were a ball bouncing futilely off of it.

That time, you didn’t even bother to ask for the whiskey, barely mumbling a ‘thank you’ before leaving. Sooyoung could only stare at you sympathetically for a few minutes before moving to serve the next customer.

Somehow, she always managed to be the server when you arrived, every Monday and Thursday night at 7 with a different date, each as horrible as the one before. She watched you go on nearly a dozen dates, and to be honest, Sooyoung came up with some interesting and mostly factual observations about you.

First, you always put in copious amount of effort; no matter how difficult it was, you carried every conversation on your own, coming up with endless questions to try and stir something up.

Second, you weren’t easily discouraged. That much was evident at how many times you came back, and how hopeful you seemed at the beginning of every date. Sooyoung admired that- perseverance, however stupid it might be.

Third, you were kind. No matter how terrible each date went, you never took your frustration out on others. Some people wouldn’t tip as high as you always did when things went badly, but maybe that was just you being a decent person.

Last, you were gorgeous. That part was just Sooyoung’s personal preference, though.

But with everything summed up, she couldn’t possibly fathom how someone like you was still single, or how you were so unlucky in finding a match. You had barely spoken 3 words to her, but she was sure that just one date with you would have her head over heels in love.

The 11th date, though, was by far the worst. Your date, a pretty but extremely hot-tempered and disagreeable girl, left before the food was even delivered. “Your foo- oh. Um, is she...”

“Gone? Yeah.” You raked your hands through your hair frustratedly, grimacing at the 2 huge platters of pasta. “I have no idea how I’m going to finish all of this.”

Sooyoung frowned, too, still holding the serving tray in her hands. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can refund. What would you like me to do?”

Biting down on your lip, you tossed the napkin folded neatly on your plate aside. “I’ll try my best, I suppose. Could you bring me some takeout boxes? I’ll have food for a couple weeks.”

A jokester. Before she could stop herself, Sooyoung blurted, “I could... try and help you finish? You won’t have to pay for what I eat, of course, I just. There’s not many customers.”

It wasn’t a lie- the two of you were the only people in the entire restaurant, the two cooks in the kitchen quiet too. You stared up at her for just enough time for her cheeks to redden, but you cleared your throat and gestured vaguely at the chair opposite you. “Uh, yeah. Help yourself.”

She smiled before setting the food down, pulling the chair out and sitting. You were even more attractive up close, and you made it terribly hard to actually focus on the food. “Is there a reason you’ve gone on 11 dates?” she asked in an attempt to start a conversation.

You looked up, surprised, before nodding. “Right, you were here each time, weren’t you?”

At her nod, you shrugged, “I don’t really know. I guess I’m kind of bored with the way I’m living, you know?”

“Being alone is no fun,” Sooyoung agreed, twirling her fork. “Why this same restaurant, though? I didn’t think eating the same pasta 11 times would be very inviting...”

“Ah. That’s not really the reason. I met my last girlfriend here, actually,” you explained. “Maybe I’m just hoping I’ll get lucky again.”

The other girl smiled, “Maybe you will.”

Before she knew it, you were talking freely, conversation rushing so fast that her brain could hardly keep up. You’re funny, Sooyoung realized, in a kind of way that not many people would pick up on. Everything about you was a bit understated- you’re kind in subtle ways, witty rather than outright hilarious.

The pasta finished itself incredibly fast, and you stared at your plate in disbelief. “Wow. I don’t think any of the dates I went on in the past month lasted this long.”

“They definitely didn’t,” Sooyoung responded, laughing when you pressed a hand to your chest in mock-hurt. “Well, you can count this as a date in your records, if you want.

You sipped at the wine the waitress brought over. “After everything that happened, I didn’t think I’d ever want to go on a dinner date again. But this was fun. If we were to go on another date, though, let’s not occupy your work time.”

Despite the pink flush to her cheeks, Sooyoung continued to joke, “You might have enjoyed it, who said I did? I’m just kidding. You’re the best date I’ve been on in a while too.”

Checking your watch, you hesitated just a second before blurting out, “Then. Do you want to go somewhere, after your shift? We already ate, but I think we can find something else to do somewhere in the city.”

“Sure,” Sooyoung grinned, standing as well. “My shift is over, anyway.”

“Is it really?” you laughed, seeing right through her.

She assumed a serious expression, slinging her apron over the chair and grabbing her purse from the lockers. “Of course not. But I’ll risk it to be your 12th date.”

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elianamarie-blog · 4 years

Text

The Things You Give Part 2 Steven Hyde x Reader

Author’s Note: I hope you really enjoyed Part 1! Here is part 2 and I’ll put a link to access part 1 if it’s your first time being here. Leave a heart and subscribe to my blog if you want more! Thank you and stay safe, folks.

Warnings: None

Part 1 here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/elianamarie-blog

The next morning, Y/N found herself waking up at noon. She cursed at herself because she hated waking up late knowing her day was now gone, but at least it’s Saturday and her day off from work. She dragged herself out of bed and trudged her way down into the kitchen where she was greeted with Red, Kitty, Steven, and Eric eating lunch at the table.

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Kitty greeted, looking up from her glass of lemonade. “Or should I say ‘afternoon?’”

Y/N yawned as she plopped herself in a chair across from her mother. “I was up late last night.”

“Doing what?” Red questioned like she didn’t have any good excuse.

Y/N eternally cursed herself as her eyes flitted towards Hyde’s wide ones for a split second. She didn’t think this through. “I-I just couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning.”

“Again?” Kitty asked. “This has been happening for the last couple months. You might be suffering from insomnia. At first I thought it was because of your finals and looking for colleges, but this has gone longer than that. You might have insomnia.”

She chuckled to herself, relieved. “Yeah, probably do.” She grabbed a sandwich from the middle of the table and at the bag of chips, dumping it on her plate.

“Eric, what’s your plan for today?” Red asked.

“Well, since I’m on my one year of doing nothing, I’m going to answer with nothing,” he responded with no emotion in his voice.

“Wrong,” Red answered harshly, like he normally does when he spoke to Eric. “You’re going to trim the hedges, sweep the driveway, and fix the dent on the Vista Cruiser.”

“Dad, that’s like eighty bucks!” Eric cried. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Then it looks like you’re going to have to get a job!” Red said.

“But that just interferes with my plan!”

“Exactly,” Red responded slowly. “If you’re going to live in my house you will do as I say. Or you can drive around town with that big ass dent.”

Eric thought it over for a split second before pointing at Red. “Can’t Y/N pay for it? She has a job.”

“No!” he said. “She’s not the one who put the dent there.”

“Neither did I!” Eric argued. “Mr. Fitzgerald ran into me.”

“And don’t worry, I already talked to him, but unfortunately our insurance won’t cover it. So it falls on you to replace it.”

“This totally blows, man. I’d rather drive around town with the dent.”

Red rolled his eyes at his son and turned to face him fully. “Why can’t you be like your sister? She got a job straight out high school working at the bridal store, applied for college in Denver, and has her life planned out. While you sit there eating my food, taking up my heat, taking up space, being a no-good bum.”

“Red, honey, that’s enough,” Kitty interjected. “Let’s just enjoy our lunch.”

“Dad, I only stayed because of your heart attack!” He shot back at his ill-tempered father. “You know, to take care of you guys. I could be in Madison right now.”

“And that’s worked out great so far, hasn’t it?” Red spat.

“You’re so ungrateful!” Eric said, clearly hurt. “Why can’t you just say ‘thank you’ for once?”

“I would if you just do something around the house,” he responded, his voice raising. “Pick up on household chores, work and bring a paycheck home, help your mother out, take me to doctors appointments. Anything other than sitting around all day playing you’re your toys.”

“Red, you’re going to give yourself another heart attack,” Kitty informed him. “You need to calm down.”

Red put his hands up. “Fine, fine. But I want those chores done today, Eric. And if you half-ass it, I’m going to make you do it all over again, plus cleaning out the gutters and fixing the leak under the bathroom sink.”

Eric grunted. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Red nodded, pleased he won the argument and turned back to his meal. It was silent for a moment, the air thick with tension. Hyde and Y/N just sat there, eating quietly and stiffened. Well, not so much Hyde because it was always amusing seeing Red yell at Eric, but for Y/N it was different. Even though she was used to the constant fighting, their argument had never been this intense.

“So,” Kitty said, clearing her throat, trying to ease the conversation. “Steven, how’s work going?”

“Oh, you know, working at the kitchen is great,” he said, taking a chip to his mouth. “Ever since Kelso and Eric left, things have been pretty quiet. We hired a new server so it makes things a little easier.”

Kitty beamed proudly at him. “I’m glad to hear it. What about you, dear?” she asked turned to Y/N .

“It’s good,” she responded. “Helping brides pick out their dresses. It’s nice and easy.”

“Well, good,” Kitty replied and patted her hand. “I’m so proud of you. Although, you’re going to have to leave me to go to Denver.” Her smile turned into a sad one and her voice cracked.

“Mom, I haven’t even been accepted yet,” Y/N responded, trying to comfort her mother. “Who knows, I might end up going to the college in Kenosha or staying to go to the community college here.”

Hyde sat up a little straighter, hope filling him.

“Have you applied to them?” Red asked.

“Well, I applied to Denver first and then if I didn’t get in, I was going to apply to Kenosha. If that didn’t work out, then the community college here since I can just go sign up.”

Red beamed at her proudly. “That’s my girl.”

Y/N smiled up at him. He can be a hard ass, but seeing him smile proudly at her and being the softy he was with her, made it all worth it. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“What are you going to study?” Kitty asked and suddenly all eyes were on Y/N . Kitty was hoping she’d follow in her footsteps and become a nurse, but Y/N wasn’t too sure if she even wanted that.

“Um,” she stumbled, gulping. “I’m not sure. I was thinking either engineering or automotive.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t want to do that,” Kitty said, handing her another sandwich.

“Why not?” Red asked before Y/N could. “She’s knowledgeable about that kind of stuff. Hell, I’ve taught her all about cars and the mechanics. Unlike dumbass over here.”

“Hey!” Eric called out. “We both know that I am not strong enough to hold up a tire.”

“Yeah,” Red said, dragging it out and glared at him. “I know.”

“Mom, why shouldn’t I study those?” Y/N asked.

“Well, you don’t want to work in a man’s place,” she responded. “It’s dirty and hot, and it’s super hard to do. Besides, you’ll just distract the boys from doing their jobs.”

While Hyde’s mind went to dirty places after hearing the words dirty, hot, and hard, he noticed Y/N getting visible angry.

“Really?” she hissed. “You think I can’t handle it because I’m a woman? Or smart enough? If I can do the job, why does it matter? I am not and will not be responsible for the other guys not getting their job done because they’re too stupid to do their job.”

“C’mon, Y/N , you deserve better,” she said. “You don’t have to work there. Why don’t you work at the hair salon? Or better yet, sell Tupperware?”

“No, mom!” Y/N said. “I want to do something meaningful with my life. I don’t want to fit into societal norms. I deserve a well paying job just as much men do.”

“Kitty, let her decide what she wants,” Red spoke up. “We’re not going to be living her life. You didn’t say anything to Laurie when she went to beauty school.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like she has many options anyway,” she responded.

“But I do and you’re trying to limit me?”

“Oh, honey, don’t take it so personally,” Kitty said, trying to deflate the conversation. “You’re the smart one out of all of us and I just want you to have a better life.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Eric whined.

“Yeah, but you don’t what you want to do yet. Figure it out and then come talk to us,” Kitty said and turned back to Y/N . “We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Kitty, you can’t limit her just because you don’t want to her get hurt. That’s not fair.”

Kitty sighed. “Fine, do whatever you want.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m not hungry anymore. I’m going to go check the mail.” She slammed her plate in the sink and stomped out the swinging door.

“Way to go, Kitty,” Red said and stood up tp put his plate in the sink. “You had to anger her by telling her that.”

“What, this is my fault now?” Kitty defended.

Red looked at her emotionless. “Yes.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting a better future for my baby girl!” She cried. “I’m relieved that we don’t have another Laurie and all I wanted for her was to be safe! But. I’m just terrible mother who can’t control her kids. Is a peace of mind for a mother really too much to ask?!” She screamed and finished her huge scene by grabbing her emergency bottle of wine and stomped upstairs to her bedroom.

“Aw, crap,” Red groaned. “Even when she’s wrong, she’s right.”

“Women, man,” Hyde said and put his plate in the sink as well. “From what I learned about women, they’re always right and we’re always wrong.”

“Well, I’m glad my Donna isn’t like that,” Eric spoke up, also bringing his plate to the sink. “She will apologize to me if she did wrong. She’s smart like that.”

“Yeah, but she has you whipped like 99% of the time,” Hyde shot back.

“Not true!” Eric defended.

“Man, you so are!” Hyde said, laughing. “What happened last week? You wanted to go watch Star Wars for the billionth time and she wanted to see a chick flick. And what did you end up seeing? The chick flick.”

“Well, if I hadn’t she wouldn’t have let—” he stopped dead short when he saw Red staring at him. “She wouldn’t have let me kissed her goodnight on the cheek. Like the innocent and responsible adults we are.”

Red rolled his eyes. “Can it. I’m going to check on your mother and if I don’t see you doing what I asked in five minutes, I’m going to put my foot so far up your ass, I’ll be able to control you like a puppet.” With that, he pushed the swinging door open and exited out to check on Kitty.

“Forman, you should write a book ‘Things Red Threatened To Put In My ass.’ Chapter one: His foot.”

Eric could only roll his eyes and exit the kitchen to start on those dreadful chores.

Hyde decided to go check on Y/N once Eric was out of sight. He took the steps two at time until he came across Y/N’s room. He knocked on the door and gently opened the door.

“ Y/N?”

She was sitting at her desk, looking over the college pamphlets. “Hey,” she replied miserably.

He shut the door and sat on her bed. “You okay, man? That was intense what happened down there.”

“Yeah” she replied curtly, but not towards him. “It’s so typical of my mother to try to control everything I do. I’m not Laurie so she feels like I’m not good enough to make own decisions.”

“She just doesn’t want you to be like her,” Hyde defended. “You’re the only child that your parents don’t worry because you have your head screwed on straight.”

She looked at him with a defeated look. “I know, but there’s other ways about it,” she responded and sat down next to him.

“Your mom doesn’t want you to leave,” he continued.

“Well, I need to,” she said without thinking about it. She noticed hurt flash across his face. “I mean, it’s not like I want to, really. I want to explore the world and see what it has to offer me, but staying here is not going to give me that.”

“I know,” he sighs. “It just sucks hearing you talk about it.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she said and grabbed his hand. Right there, she wanted to invite him to come along with her, but she was afraid. Afraid that he would run away. Then what if she doesn’t get accepted? Then she’s going to have to deal with seeing him everyday and make it harder for her to move on., but little did she know he was secretly hoping for the same thing. Just like her, he was terrified to ask her. He didn’t want to show too much vulnerability. After seeing what his mom went through, he doesn’t want to get into a relationship and then move away only for them to break up. And then what? He’d be stuck there, or worse, she’d see him for who he truly is and run away. It was easier for him to keep everything hidden than to spill it.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m going to do whatever I want regardless what my mom says.”

“Did you check the mail?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Yeah, nothing yet.”

He stared down at their entwined hands. “I don’t know why this is so hard for us to talk about,” she said. “It’s not like we’re in a committed relationship. “

His heart dropped at hearing that, but why? They were both on the same page. It’s not like it meant nothing, but it meant something. It may have even started off that way, but it definitely wasn’t like that now. They wanted to make it official but the sneaking around and hiding it from everyone kind of prevented it from happening. Even if they did, it would be saying goodbye so much harder.

He knew he was in for it when they started. He had never felt this way about anyone before. And that scared him. He was afraid to lose her which sucked because he never felt that fear with anyone, but she was different. She made him feel at home, at peace. She made him a better man. He was actually happy. Before, he had trouble running in with the law and relatively being a jerk to everyone. Hyde was a good friend, but showed it differently than the average man. When it came to women, he hardly ever got attached. Women would leave anyway once they found out the true him. Or at least, the side that he wanted them to see. She saw his heart, through the wall he built up, and tore it down. With her, he wanted her to tear it down because for once in life, he was able to trust someone that wasn’t within his normal group, but even then this was way different with him. He finally felt safe and didn’t have to be ready to run if he had to.

She knew that if she stayed here, she would have Steven, but her future would be bleak. She knew if she left the state, she would be able to accomplish so much more. But the thought of leaving him was almost unbearable to her, which confused her. She knew what she was getting into when they started seeing each other. She knew it would be just a fling, but the more they did it, the more they connected; spiritually and physically. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. She wasn’t supposed to develop feelings for him, but she did. Even though they clearly like each other, she didn’t want to suggest anything more in fear of rejection. What if he didn’t feel the same way? It’d be easier to leave, but she doesn’t want to forget him and go without him. If more than anything, she wanted him to join her. The only way she would find out is by asking.

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “It’d be stupid of us to do that since you might be leaving.”

“Well, um,” she began, suddenly feeling so nervous that she started shaking. He felt it and held her hand tighter.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she responded and looked into his shades, even though she was trying to look into his eyes. “Maybe, we…we don’t have to split up.”

His eyebrows came together which made her more nervous for his answer. “What d’you mean?”

She took a deep breath. “Maybe…you can come with me.”

#that 70's show fanfic #that 70s show #steven hyde #steven hyde x reader

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Fifty-Five) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. PTSD. Depression. Mentions of a hostage situation, shooting, murder, suicide, physical trauma.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 10,588

Timeline: Season 8 Episodes 13. Right after part fifty-four.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

Before the front door was even closed, Hotch grabbed my waist, and he pulled me into a hug so tight I thought my lungs would collapse. To be fair, after a moment of being caught off guard, I started squeezing him back with every ounce of strength I had, too. It had been such a long, stressful day. We did everything we could have to help Reid, but it wasn’t enough. I had sat across from him in our house just that afternoon, promising him that Maeve would be alright. I told him that she was going to survive for him, and that he would get to hold her in his arms, just as Hotch and I were holding each other that night. But I lied. Maeve… She… Well, she wasn’t as lucky as I was. When I was taken, I practically knew how to get myself out of it because of my training, but Maeve had been waiting around for her knight in shining armor to come rescue her.

Watching Reid break down over Maeve’s body, refusing to even touch her because he didn’t get to hold her while she was still alive… I couldn’t help but think about the contrast between them and us. I remembered when Hotch found me, he broke down out of happiness and relief. He was so glad that I was safe, that I was alive, and that we were going to have a baby. We were lucky because he got to hold me in his arms again, kiss my lips as much as he wanted, to say “I love you” until his throat was sore. We got another chance together, whereas Reid and Maeve didn’t even have their first chance. It all felt unfair.

For some reason, I almost wished that I could trade places with them, just for a bit, so that they could be holding one another like Hotch and I were, so that they could kiss each other for the first time, so that they could look each other in the eyes and say “I love you”. Even though I didn’t want to lose Hotch in a million years, it almost felt like we had stolen some of the time that Reid and Maeve deserved— even though that wasn’t the case, realistically. It just felt like it should have been them standing there, relieved to be with each other. Spencer had been through so much. He deserved to be happy. He didn’t deserve this mess. He should have been able to hold Maeve…

Hotch’s arms constricted around me more and I sort of felt his knees buckle. He nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck, breathing through his nose against my skin. I heard him sniffle lightly as a cold tear drop ran from his cheek and onto my neck.

“I’m here,” I cooed to him, pulling at the ends of his hair. “You’ll never lose me.”

That wasn’t guaranteed, though. For all I knew, I could have been lying to Hotch, too. Maybe someone would take me again, and they’d actually have the balls to end me. Maybe someone would take Hotch and I would be left to raise our family on our own… The thought made me want to throw up. I hadn’t put it in perspective like that. It was easy to think about dying— painful, but still easy. To think about losing Hotch randomly now, with our growing, happy family… My head started to spin, and I started to cry. I couldn’t lose him.

Hotch’s arms moved around me so that he could sweep me off my feet and cradle me close to his chest. I let him lift me off the ground, one of his arms sliding under my knees, his other one holding my back up. I kept my hold on his neck, letting him hug me as hard as he could as he slowly dropped to his knees.

We had all lost so much— Hotch more than anyone. But Reid had been through so many traumatic, unfair events. It all started with Tobias Hankle, and everything since then seemed like an attack on him, too. This… How was he supposed to recover from this? How were we supposed to help him?

That empty question kept me up all night. Hotch and I hardly even made it to the couch, still cuddled in each other’s arms, eternally grateful that we could be together. Nothing needed to be said. Nothing even needed to happen. We just sat in silence, listening to each other’s breathing, feeling the way our hearts beat in our chest, thinking about how things could have ended much differently in Hawai’i. All this time, we took each other for granted. We took our daughter for granted. If I hadn’t acted as quickly as I did when they took me on our honeymoon, and if Hotch hadn’t found me as soon as he did, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t have me—or neither of us would have our little ray of sunshine. We weren’t going to forget this. I don’t think anyone on the team was going to forget. Ever.

----

No one heard from Reid for about a week, and after an extremely tough case where everyone was still trying to reach out to him, I decided to head over there with Scarlet. I figured that he would be willing to see me if she was with me. After connecting the way we did during Maeve’s kidnapping, I thought that it was worth a shot. Maybe he would talk to me. If he wouldn’t reach out to his closest friends, like JJ and Garcia, maybe he would at least open up to someone who wasn’t as emotionally involved. It was easy to do that sometimes. Opening up to our loved ones was difficult because we never wanted to be judged or ridiculed by the people we knew best; but opening up to someone who was practically a stranger, like a therapist or someone on the internet, felt freeing. Since Reid and I had never been close, we hardly knew anything about each other. I’d said it before, but that was no one’s fault. It happened naturally. But now that he was suffering, and it was clear that he needed someone to talk to, I decided that I would at least try to be that shoulder he could cry on.

I adjusted Scarlet on my hip as I headed up the steps to Reid’s apartment. JJ had given me the address after I told her my idea, and she agreed that it didn’t hurt to try. When I reached the top of the steps, I stopped after noticing all of the gift baskets gathered in front of his door, all unbothered and unopened. I cocked a brow. That wasn’t right. Why were these all here, and why hadn’t Reid at least taken them inside once he knew no one was just outside, waiting to bother him? Was something wrong? Nothing felt wrong. But maybe that was why he hadn’t been in contact with any of us since Maeve’s death.

I stepped over the baskets to urgently knock on his door. “Reid, are you in there?” I leaned around Scar to get a look at the gift baskets, noticing the huge pink, cursive print that read: To Reid, From Garcia. I smiled lightly. Oh. I knocked again. “Reid, wellness check.” Nothing. “Sound off or I’m coming in.”

“Here,” I heard him respond weakly.

I let out a relieved sigh. “I brought Scarlet. Do you want to at least talk to her, if you won’t talk to anyone else?” I heard shuffling inside, the sound of a heavy piece of furniture being dragged around and books being kicked out of the way. And then the door opened. There was only enough space for Scarlet to fit through, so I caught the hint. “Okay.” I helped Scarlet down to the ground and held her tiny hands as she struggled to slowly waddle into his apartment. The door shut on my face the second Scarlet was inside. I scoffed. “I’ll be sitting out here, I guess.” I turned and slowly crouched onto the ground, groaning as I did so, catching myself before I could topple over after my foot hit one of the gift baskets Garcia left. I inspected it carefully. There was chocolate, containers of cherries and nuts, and stupid miniature figures from Doctor Who. I looked at Reid’s door while asking, “Hey, Reid, do you mind if I snack on some of this stuff?” I waited a moment for an answer, but nothing came, so I decided to just go for it. There was too much there for him to eat on his own, anyhow.

Halfway through a bag of Hershey Kisses, my phone started ringing. I leaned to the side so that I could grab it out of my back pocket while still chewing on the piece I had just popped into my mouth moments prior. Aaron Hotchner. I sighed as I answered the call. With a full mouth, I said, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered honestly, “I just wanted to check to see if you got through to Reid.”

I looked over my shoulder at the door to see that there still wasn’t any movement or noise. “Well… He opened the door and let Scarlet inside, but he kept me out.”

“He let Scarlet in?”

“They really connected the day Mae—” I stopped myself. “He’s always been fond of her, baby. You remember when she was born. He had just lost Emily, and hearing that we named our daughter after her… I think something just clicked for him.” I trapped the phone between my ear and my shoulder so that I could unwrap another piece of chocolate. “He’s so good with her, baby. You should have seen him that day.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

I shook my head somewhat, still keeping the phone trapped. “Not at all. I think he’s just lonely.”

“But the whole team—”

“I think he needs someone impartial, Aaron.”

He sighed on the other end. “You’re right.”

I smirked. “I know.”

“When do you think you’ll be home?”

“Whenever one of them gets too tired or fussy to keep hanging out with each other.”

“E.T.A?” he teased.

“Not available.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.” I could hear him pouring himself a drink in the background, probably a glass of bourbon since the case we had gotten back from last night was a doozy, and his reward was a few drinks here and there whenever we made it through one like that. “I’m worried about him. I don’t want him to leave the team.”

“I know… I don’t either. But it’s his choice, Aaron. If it were you in his shoes, what would you do?”

“You know what I did.”

“Yeah, but you had me there to pick up the pieces. I mean, now, if you were in his shoes today—”

“Stop,” he demanded quickly. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized sincerely. I reached to grab a gummy bear. Garcia had really outdone herself with all of these custom gift baskets that she clearly put together on her own. “It’s just been on my mind.”

“Mine, too.”

The steps just ahead of me started creaking, giving me a heads up that someone was coming. I looked up to see Morgan’s bald head slowly appear. I laughed to myself at the thought, watching as more and more of Morgan began revealing himself to me until he finally reached the top stop, at which point he looked over and spotted me. We both froze. A smile grew on his face, too. We both looked guilty when we realized that we had been caught coming to check on Reid, even though we knew that it was potentially futile.

“Baby, Morgan just got here. I’m going to have to call you back later.”

“Okay,” Hotch said, “call me when you’re on your way home.”

“Of course. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I hung up on Hotch, leaning to put my phone back into the pocket of my pants. As Morgan sighed and sat down next to me on the floor, I handed him a handful of chocolates. He silently thanked me. We both started snacking on the chocolates, crumbling up the small tin foil wrappers and piling them up between us. I rested my head on Morgan’s shoulder.

“He’ll only see Scarlet,” I whispered.

“Well, the kid’s always liked talking to kids,” Morgan whispered back. “He’s the only one who can get through to the child victims.”

“I know.”

“He would have made a great dad one day…” He threw a wrapper angrily at the wall opposite us.

I scrunched my brows together. “He can still—”

“Not after that.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

Morgan chuckled lightly. “You’ve always been an optimist.”

“And you’ve never been a pessimist. So, what gives?”

“Nothing.”

“And I refuse to believe that,” I teased.

Morgan looked down both sides of the hallway to make sure no one was around or eavesdropping. “You know how I’ve been teaching those Academy lessons on Saturdays?”

“Yeah, you make Prentiss go.”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded. “Has anyone told you which drill I make my cadets do the most?” I shook my head in response. “Home invasion where an entire family is being held hostage. One adult male, one adult female, one son, one baby. Care to guess why I do that one the most?”

My shoulders fell and my eyes softened. All this time, I had been so caught up in the fact that, as Jack and Scarlet's parents, it was mine and Hotch’s responsibility to take care of them and protect them. I never stopped to ask myself how Morgan and Prentiss possibly felt responsible, too. Morgan was the one who first took the initiative to befriend me when I joined the BAU, and we had been best friends since. We had always been protective of each other, but that came with the territory of being field partners, friends, and now he was the godfather of Scarlet. He probably felt an immense urge to protect us because we were his family. I couldn’t stand the idea of facing another Foyet incident, but Morgan was likely terrified of it happening, too, because he didn’t want to be the one to find us.

“There are nights where I can’t sleep,” he explained, “because I have nightmares about what could happen if something bad happens and I can’t save you. You were the first person I had ever met who understood what I went through as a kid, and you were the only other person I knew that was just as damn stubborn as I was to not admit it. You were the one who held me when I found out that Garcia had been shot. You were the one who made sure that I was okay in New York, even though you were the one we should have been worried about. I was the shoulder you cried on for months after Haley’s death because you didn’t want to worry Hotch or make him more upset than he already was. And then Hotch called to tell me that someone took you in Hawai’i, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I worried endlessly every day that you were gone. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t think about anything other than finding you because I wanted my best friend back. I wanted my partner back. I wanted my sister back. And when we found you, I was so relieved. It felt like I could finally breathe after holding my breath all my life because you were safe, you were in Hotch’s arms, and you were still fucking worried about me even though you shouldn’t have been. And then when Scarlet was born…” He choked on a light sob. “And you asked if I would be her godfather, I made a promise to myself in that moment that I would never, ever let anything happen to you guys ever again. You and Hotch have been through too damn much, and I can’t risk losing my partner again. So that was why I slept on your couch almost every day when Hotch was gone. I didn’t want to get a call in the middle of the night, calling me to a crime scene that looks eerily similar to all the shit we see at work, only to find that it’s you, Jack, and Scarlet. I couldn’t bear the thought, so I stayed as close as I could. Then when Hotch came back, and I knew I couldn’t sleep on your couch forever, I had to start working towards being efficient as hell in a situation like this. I look at family annihilator crime scenes all the time, and— you’re right, all I see is you and your family. But I don’t let it wear me down or distract me. I let it encourage me to do better, to try to stop those guys before they can hurt anyone else. There are times, though, sugar, like what happened with Maeve, and I can’t help but feel pessimistic. We’re supposed to help people like Maeve. We’re supposed to help families like yours. Yet we seem to fail nearly every time—”

“We don’t fail.”

“We’re always too late,” he argued. “That’s failing.”

“You know… Every time I’ve almost lost Hotch, I thought I was going to die. I’d see him in pain, and I’d struggle to even breathe. Those people we help… At least we’re making a difference in their lives so that they don’t have to know what that feels like.”

Morgan shifted uncomfortably while reaching for a candy. “Hotch struggled when you went missing. I’ll never forget that.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t really understand what it was like. Hotch’s reaction to seeing you hurt was worse than how Reid reacted, and he didn’t even lose you entirely. Reid was capable of holding himself back, of biting his tongue and regressing into silence while Maeve was still missing. Hotch, on the other hand, had been lashing out. He was so angry, so upset, so lost without you. The only thing he could focus on was finding you, and even then, he needed someone to keep him on task the whole time. But he found you, and he was so relieved, and he was himself again. He won for once and we could all tell that he was so grateful. But Reid lost. He didn’t get to feel that relief. It’s going to take him a very long time to recover from that. A long, long time.”

The doorknob suddenly creaked, causing Morgan and I to both jump to our feet. We stood at attention, shoulder to shoulder, watching as the door opened ever so slightly. My attention was lowered when I saw Scarlet come waddling out of Reid’s apartment. I reached down and carefully picked her up, groaning as I did so and felt my back strain. Morgan watched me silently, taking notice of my struggle, something that he was likely going to point out to Hotch later before I could even get home. Great.

As I propped Scarlet on my hip, I looked back up at the door that was closing in our faces. I figured that would be it, he wouldn’t want us around any longer, so I turned on my heels like I was going to make my way out of the building, but Spencer’s door stopped just in time before it could close all the way, and I saw one of his eyes peek around the corner. Reid got a good look at me, but all we could see was his left eye and part of his cheek.

“Can we—” Reid paused to clear his throat after he noticed how quiet and high-pitched he sounded. “Can we do this again next week?”

I looked to the side at Morgan to see his reaction since I didn’t know what to say or do. I mean, of course I wanted to oblige, but his question had caught me off guard for multiple reasons. For starters, I didn’t expect Reid to say anything to us that day; and next, was he really going to be like this for another week? Was he going to be like this for months? Maybe he should have been talking to a therapist and not a baby.

Morgan shrugged, letting me know that it was my decision.

My eyes met Reid’s one eye as Scarlet tried climbing around in my arms. She was always so damn fussy, I swear. “I think we'd both like that,” I answered, referencing me and Scar.

Reid nodded to thank me for understanding.

“Hey, kid,” Morgan stepped into his view to catch his attention. “Are you okay?” Reid closed the door within an instant, shocking Morgan. “Well,” he scoffed, “okay, then…”

I shrugged at him, not knowing what to tell him, then we left, heading home together.

----

After that, we kept up with the ritual for a few weeks. Every Sunday, which was when Maeve would usually call Spencer, I took Scarlet over to his place. It was nice. They hung out, and I relaxed. He never asked me to come in, he never even talked to me. He would open the door for her, let her waddle in, then he would let her come back out whenever they got bored. It worked. She was always excited to go, and she was always wiped when we were leaving.

About a month into it, Spencer kept the door open after Scarlet went in. I finally got to see him. His fair was so long, so flat, not at all puffy and lively like it normally was. He had bags under eyes, just like Hotch. His apartment reeked, I could smell it from where I was standing, and it looked like a complete wreck. I pouted at him. He shyly asked if I could help him with something, to which I nodded and carefully stepped into his apartment.

All of Garcia’s gift baskets were empty and stacked on his kitchen counter. He had eaten through everything. Thankfully, he had eaten something, but as for showering or cleaning his apartment, I couldn’t praise him as much. There were books scattered everywhere, pages ripped out of a few here and there, spilled coffee on the table, clothes littered around. I knew he was depressed, but if I would have known that the rest of his life had fallen apart like that, I would have kicked down the door in order to help him and hold him.

Spencer kept his eyes lowered as he whispered, “Can you help me clean up?”

I nodded eagerly. “I’d love to.”

I sent him to his bedroom to go shower while I started with taking all of the trash out to the dumpster behind the building and cleaned up any spills around the place. Coffee, sodas, orange juice. It was like he knocked it over and didn’t have the energy to fix it. I knew that feeling. Then, when he came back from his shower, he and I started working on picking up all of the papers, organizing them, then collecting the books that he had angrily thrown around. He didn’t say anything. I could tell he was ashamed of his state of living, but it really wasn’t his fault, and I wished more than anything that he understood that. I was just glad he asked for help before it got any worse.

As I finished putting back the last book Spencer had thrown on the floor, I turned to see that he was sitting down on the floor and pulling Scarlet onto his lap. She giggled and poked at his face. Reid didn’t mind, though. He let her play with his curls before making a move to playfully bite at her finger. She laughed and snatched her hand away. He smiled back at her and started bouncing her on his knee to keep her laughing.

I tried biting back a smile as I sat across from them on the floor. I made sure to keep my distance because they were sharing a moment, and this was the first time I had seen Reid smile in so long, I didn’t want to take that away from them. He deserved to be happy. After everything that happened, he deserved to forget about the burdens of the world and just focus on playing with Scarlet. He was always so good with kids, too. That was why I offered that he hang out with Scarlet rather than talk to me or Morgan or someone else. With Henry and Jack, Reid always just seemed to… click with them. I looked at how he was playing with Scarlet, and I knew right then and there that he was going to be the best father one day. I wanted to tell him, but I knew that after Maeve, he wouldn’t want to hear anything about that kind of stuff. That was understandable.

He finally looked up at me and asked, “Do you know why Scarlet’s the only person I’ll talk to?”

I leaned back, stretching my arms behind me to keep myself propped up. “I have my suspicions.” But that was all I said because I wanted to wait for his answer.

It didn’t take a profiler to know that Spencer Reid was hurting, and he thought that he needed to suffer alone. He didn’t want to burden others with his troubles, and he certainly didn’t want to sit around while someone would lie to his face while telling him: “It’ll be alright” or “She’s in a better place now” or “You’ll stop hurting eventually” or some other bullshit like that. I knew that if I lost Hotch, I wouldn’t want to hear any of it. It wasn’t going to be alright, Maeve deserved to still be with him and not in some “better place”, and, honestly, he was never going to stop hurting. If she was really a soulmate—like I assumed she was—then he was never going to get over it. And I wasn’t going to sit there and lie to him. But I knew that he was scared of talking to anyone because he didn’t know who understood him like I did versus someone like Morgan who was willing to lie to him just to make themselves feel better.

“There are so many things that I wanted to say to Maeve, but couldn’t. And there are things now that I wish I could you guys, but I… I really don’t want people’s pity. I just wanted someone to talk to who would listen and not judge me. I want to be able to speak freely, to say the things I wanted to say to Maeve, to admit the things I want to say to the team, and… and I’ve found that talking to a baby is the best way to do that. You know, she’s still so young that she’ll sort of listen while she fusses in my arms, which helps distract me from wanting to cry all the time. And she doesn’t really know how to say anything except for ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ and ‘curls’.”

“Curls!” Scarlet cheered while leaping forward to reach for Reid’s hair.

He laughed and let her pull lightly on the strands of his long hair. “Like that.” When she started pulling too hard, he tickled her stomach to get her to let go. In a fit of laughter, Scarlet felt weak, collapsing in his arms while trying to fight him to make him stop. He gave up after a few more seconds. “I talk a lot about Maeve with Scarlet,” he admitted to me. “I talk about how much I miss her, and she listens. I’ve been telling her stories about our phone calls— her favorite one is the one where Maeve told me she loved me for the first time. It’s my favorite one, too. But, most of all, I’ve just been talking through my feelings with her, and it’s helped tremendously. Is that pathetic?”

“No,” I insisted quickly. “I’m glad that you’re at least getting the chance to talk to someone. It’s never good to bottle things up, Spencer, you know that. Talking to someone—even if it is just a baby—is a good first step towards healing. I’m proud of you.”

Scarlet started throwing a tantrum because she was getting tired and wanted to go home, so I let her fall into my arms while cradling her and cooing her to calm down. I wanted to stay with Reid more than anything… but duty called. The baby wanted home, and I had to give in. So, I stood, and Spencer saw me to the door. Though the hallway was just there, and I could tell that he was eager to be alone again, I turned to inspect him one more time, and I pushed his curls out of his face with my fingers. He let his eyes flutter shut.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer. Truly.”

His lip quivered as he tried to hold a sob back. Before I could see him crack, though, he practically shooed me out of his place and shut the door on my face. I sighed and looked at Scarlet. She was already asleep in my arms, sucking on her thumb while snoring. She was so like her dad.

When I got home, I found Jack passed out on the couch with his homework on the floor. Hotch was sitting with him on another cushion, reading the news on his phone. I leaned over the back of the couch and kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned his face to look at me before pressing a kiss directly against my lips. After we parted, he reached to take Scarlet from me. With my arms free, I stretched. He chuckled at me as I walked around the couch so that I could sit with him, stopping so that I could take a chance to kiss Jack and tuck him under a blanket, then I collapsed against Hotch.

“He let me in today,” I said. Hotch couldn’t believe it. “We cleaned up his place. I don’t think he’s okay, but he will be.” I nuzzled my head against his side.

“I didn’t want it to be him,” Hotch whispered.

I cocked a brow at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Out of everyone on the team, I didn’t want it to be him who had to go through what I went through.” He looked at me. “He’s so young… and he’s alone… He has no one to fall back on. He still doesn’t understand the world, and he doesn’t even understand himself. At least with Haley—” He stopped when Jack squirmed on the couch while yawning and rolling over. When we were sure that he was still asleep, Hotch continued. “At least with Haley, I had you, I had Jack… and I understood myself and the world enough to understand what was happening and why it was happening. But Spencer… He doesn’t have any of that. He’s like my family, Y/N, and I didn’t want it to be him… Anyone but him.”

I didn’t know what to say to any of that.

Hotch flung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side, then he kissed my forehead. I nuzzled against him. After spending the afternoon with Reid, I realized even more now just how lucky we were. I didn’t have to worry about missing Hotch. I didn’t have to kill myself over the fact that I wouldn’t get to hold him ever again because he was there, and he was holding me, and I was his, and we were watching our children sleep peacefully. Just to make sure it was all real, though, I grabbed Hotch’s free hand and kissed his knuckles.

“I love you,” he whispered against my hair.

“I love you more.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Don’t make me get all cliché on you, Agent Hotchner.”

As we chuckled again, we relaxed and snuggled against each other, but we didn’t fall asleep. We couldn’t. It was too hard to rest while knowing how easy it was to lose everything. It reminded me of how we were after Haley died. We were paralyzed, but at least we had each other to get through it, and we had Jack to encourage us to get better. Spencer had no one. Spencer didn’t have a loved one to lean on, he didn’t know how to open up to people, and he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions. It was going to destroy him.

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