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spencersawkward · 3 years

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*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed!

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best.

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him.

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't.

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh.

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals.

"you should bring one of your other friends."

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world.

"I thought that was just me." he says.

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?"

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep.

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up.

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't.

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other.

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open.

"yeah?"

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift.

"I could hear your breathing change."

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds.

"I wanted to say goodnight."

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound.

"now I can't because you made it weird."

"how did I make it weird?"

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?"

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated.

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours.

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do.

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship.

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing.

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs.

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate.

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge.

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart.

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it.

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over.

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again.

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing.

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest.

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things.

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath.

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars.

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most.

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle.

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out.

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull.

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate.

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head.

he definitely has a concussion.

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway.

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun."

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold.

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor.

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious.

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know.

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank.

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key.

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could.

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called.

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed.

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.

"hi."

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here.

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me."

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second.

"Y/N, I'm really fine."

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed.

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully.

"sounds like a nightmare."

"it is." he cracks up.

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?"

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too."

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm.

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter.

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her."

"oof." you wince.

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did.

"yeah." he avoids your gaze.

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard.

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares.

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder.

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret.

"you already said that."

"shut up."

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks.

"whatever. you care about me, too."

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you."

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums.

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas.

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud.

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you.

"were you thinking about anything in particular?"

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care.

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you."

"like?" now you're intrigued.

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down.

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?"

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um."

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be.

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you."

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal.

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed.

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you."

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more.

your heart swells.

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder.

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way.

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look.

"I'm in love with you, too."

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod.

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable.

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it.

"I'd say so, yeah."

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9.

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly.

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead.

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before.

never like this.

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his.

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact.

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans.

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in.

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection.

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you."

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer."

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you.

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other.

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast.

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material.

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god."

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too.

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now.

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow.

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..."

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth.

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans.

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down.

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully.

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like."

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop."

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines.

"mhmm."

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something."

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers.

"I'm a virgin." you say.

Spencer frowns. "really?"

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful."

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry.

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence.

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?"

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency.

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts.

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands.

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face.

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you.

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back.

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting.

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly.

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop."

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort.

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock.

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it.

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin.

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect."

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum."

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too."

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement.

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan.

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high.

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions.

you collapse fully, him still inside.

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it.

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out.

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird.

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy.

"we should try multiple times."

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?"

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?"

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate.

"yeah."

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #baby spence #mgg #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

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reidsnose · 3 years

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spilled coffee

overview: spencer mistakenly spills his coffee all over reader's stuff on a case, but it turns into a happy accident (based on this request)

genre: fluff :)

a/n: ok so i think this is so cute and ive been meaning to write something ab coffee art for so long im so hapoy i got sent this request! as always lmk what u guys think of it :)

masterlist

you sat at a raggedy table, spitballing with the team in a run down police station in the absolute middle of nowhere. your notebook was open wide in front of you, the blank page taunting your inability to make a good assessment of this unsub.

"hey guys, i think i've got something," Spencer announced, walking into the room.

"thank God," you murmured under your breath.

he began walking over to the board, setting down his coffee next to you. except he accidentally bumped the corner of the table as he crossed the room, consequently knocking over his cup and spilling coffee all over your paper.

he gasped, profusely apologizing and you assured him that it was ok as you wiped it off as best you could, urging him to say what he came to say about the case.

you left your notebook out to dry and the next couple of days went by very quickly, and you nearly forgot about it. it wasn't until you were all packing up that Spencer handed it to you.

"im so sorry again, ill buy you a knew one." he offered.

"no its ok! it just has some character now!" you explained, thumbing through the pages, now stiff and various shades of brown, "mmm and it smells like coffee."

"i'm gonna find a way to make it up to you." he stated as the two of you walked out of the room.

the jet ride was going to be long, and everyone was schlumped, meaning it would be void of fun commentary and be even more long and unbearable.

you sighed, flipping through your stained notebook before getting to the exact page the coffee had been spilled onto. it might have been the lighting on the jet, or maybe the sleepiness on your eyes, but the longer you stared at the blob, the more it looked like a person.

a person you knew... someone with wavy hair that stuck up in all directions, someone who had a cute button nose, someone with kind eyes and a bright smile. someone with an iq of 187 and a particular interest in halloween and chocolate frosted donuts with sprinkles.

the coffee stain looked just like Spencer.

you rubbed your eyes a couple of times but nope, he was still there, in the coffee stain.

you couldn't help but think you were going a little crazy. you had liked him for quite some time, maybe you were just seeing him in everything now. maybe to everyone else it just looked like a coffee blob?

regardless, you took out your pen and started sketching. outlining his perfectly messy hair. and his defined jaw and cheek bones. and his puckered up, oval, kissable lips, curled up in a smile. and his little boop-able nose. and his off center tie.

you weren't sure how long you had been drawing, or how many times you had looked over at Reid to make sure you were getting him down correctly. and yes you were.

all the other times you had secretly sketched him it never turned out right. there was always something that made it like someone looks like Spencer. but never quite him.

until now.

because somehow, this spilled coffee sketch had perfectly captured his essence. maybe because he was the one that spilled it? maybe it had to be done together to look right?

whatever it was you just couldn't stop staring at the wonderful accident that you and him had created.

you looked up again to see him walking over and quickly flipped your notebook to the other side, trying hard to hide your drawing.

"hey," he smiled sitting down across from you.

"hey," you replied, voices low to avoid waking up the team.

"what were you drawing?" he asked innocently.

"oh..uh nothing," you denied quickly.

"oh come on you know how much i love your doodles, show me!"

"you've seen my doodles," you face palmed.

"yes! and i love them! especially the little flower chains you border your paper with sometimes," he giggled.

"well this one..it um didn't turn out right, you wont like it."

"i doubt that."

you sighed, giving into his pleading eyes, "here."

he flipped it over, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open, "WOAH!"

"shhh!! they're sleeping!" you whispered, pointing at the rest of the team.

"y/n! this is absolutely incredible! how did you- out of a coffee spill- and it looks so- wow. i-" he looked up at you, a huge smile stretching across his face, "i'm honored that you chose to draw me. thank you."

"you're welcome, i've tried to draw you before but i could never get it right until now," you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up.

his eyes softened.

"nothing says Spencer Reid like spilled coffee," he joked, making you smile. "but how come you didn't add yourself?"

"what?" you chuckled.

"theres a second blob here. right next to me," he pointed.

"yeah but that just looks like... a blob."

"no! that looks exactly like you! look theres your hair, and your eyes, and even the height difference is right!" he explained excitedly, grabbing your pen, "may i?"

you nodded and watched him get to work, sticking his tongue out as he focused. his approach was much different then yours, he drew connected, long shaky lines, and even though it didn't match the style you drew him in it was still perfect. and it still looked just like you.

he finished up, adding his last touches before pushing the paper back towards you.

"spence, i love it!" you breathed, holding it up in-front of you as you felt your heart begin to swell. "look at us. Spencer and y/n"

"Spencer and y/n." he echoed, liking the way your name felt in his mouth.

you smiled, "we forgot to sign."

"oh, right," he stammered, taking the pen and signing at the bottom corner before passing it to you and watching you do the same.

"something is off," you frowned.

"no! i think we look good together." he countered, wondering if you would catch the hint.

"no.." you sighed, taking the paper and holding it close as you scrawled something else.

his heart sank. rejection. you were probably scribbling out his face. or drawing a line between the two of you. this was gonna hurt.

you dropped the notebook back in front of him with a happy sigh. he brought his eyes up, wishing you'd at least had the decency to not show him.

but when he looked he was surprised. pleasantly surprised.

a large heart floated above your heads in the picture.

he grinned at you, his heart making its way back up to his chest from inside his stomach.

"i think we look great together." you grinned back.

his fingers grazed yours on top of the table.

"i agree." he breathed, looking like the physical embodiment of heart eyes.

"hey lovebirds," morgan groaned, "i'm so happy for you but please shut up and let me sleep."

you two chuckled, both whispering an apology, grinning ear to ear.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @takeyourleap-of-faith @vampire-overlord @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Seasons of Med: Season 1: Glad I Didn’t Make it that Far (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister! imagine)

Trigger warning: Talk of eating disorders

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 1x04 that show up here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"We should go to a movie," your best friend Emma suggested when you were sitting on the playground of Central Chicago's elementary school one summer day.

You had been coming here since it was pretty close to your house to be able to read without worrying that your dad would show up drunk. He wasn't violent, he was just rude, asking why there was no food and when you explained it was because he wasn't going shopping, he'd scoff and tell you to get a job if you wanted to eat. It wasn't your fault; you'd tried to get a job, but no one would hire you because you were only fourteen. Most places required that you be at least sixteen and the occasional place would let you start at fifteen, but only with very limited hours. And, the places that let you start at fifteen were too far away for you to walk to. You'd have to take the El...and that would turn out badly if Will and Jay found out, even though your dad wouldn't care in the slightest.

"Em, I don't have any money. I'm literally rationing out my feminine products at this point."

"Hey, just tell me if you need any. Me or my mom can get you some. Oh, and some neighbors of mine run a little kettle corn company. They're looking for some extra help on the weekends and they'll pay you under the table. I can give you their number if you want."

"Really?" Emma smiled and nodded. "Yes, please! And, you're the best."

But, what you didn't tell her was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday since there was barely anything in your house and that your cramps were killing you and because of all this, you were feeling nauseous.

"Let's go to the movies. My treat."

"I can't let you pay for me."

"Yes, you can. Best friends help each other out. Now c'mon, let's go." You sighed and closed your eyes as you stood up. "You good?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just dizzy."

"You wanna go home?"

"No, no I'm fine. Just seasonal allergies from all the pollen," you lied.

"Okay, let's go."

You started to slow down as you got closer to the movie theater. "I'm so excited to see The Longest Ride!" Emma squealed. "Scott Eastwood is just mwah!"

"Yeah, but he's- he's a lot-- I gotta, I gotta sit down," you stuttered, starting to feel more lightheaded and seeing your vision become blurry at the edges.

"Okay, let's get to the front where you can sit on the curb."

You slowly started to make your way there, but it was too late. "Em- Emma," you slurred as you tried to reach for her as your legs gave out underneath you, and then everything went black.

"Y/N!" Emma yelled as she squatted down next to you and pulled out her phone.

Just then, everyone started running out of the theater shouting something about a shooting.

***

Will's pager went off as he was eating with Natalie and the rest of the team from a taco truck outside of Chicago Med. And, everyone else's pagers were going off, too, making it sound like alarm clocks that were all set for the same time. Then, Maggie ran outside.

"Shooting in a movie theater! Mass casualties! It's about to get crazy!" she yelled to the doctors and other nurses. "EMTs are four minutes out!"

Not even a second after she finished her sentence, an ambulance pulled up with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

"Check that!" Will yelled as he threw his food in the trash can. "They're here!"

Then, all of them sprinted into the hospital, their main focus now being saving as many lives as possible.

"Another maniac gone crazy in a theater," Will said as he put something over his scrubs to keep them from getting blood all over them. "Is this the world we live in?"

***

You slowly opened your eyes to be met with the white ceiling and an IV in your arm. You groaned. "Where am I?" you asked as you rolled over to see Emma sitting on a bench. "Are we in an ambulance?"

"You don't remember?" Emma asked.

"You passed out, sweetie," a female paramedic told you as she put a blood pressure cuff around your arm. "Luckily for you, we came pretty quick after hearing about the shooting."

"The shooting? There was a shooting?"

"In the movie theater," the paramedic answered you. "You were lucky you didn't go in."

"Guess so."

Your eyes widened as you realized they were probably taking you to Chicago Med. You couldn't let your brother know that the most likely reason for you passing out was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. They'd freak out.

"Am I good to go when we get to the hospital? I feel fine." You were still nauseous, but that was better than being passed out.

"You passed out, we need to get you checked out at the hospital."

"But I feel fine," you protested.

"I understand that, sweetie. But you need to get checked out anyway to make sure that there wasn't something that made you pass out other than the heat."

"She's right, Y/N," Emma said. "You need to get checked out."

You huffed. "Fine." Maybe Will would be too busy to even notice you were there. And, you figured your dad wouldn't pick up his phone, so you could just sneak out undetected when the doctors and nurses weren't watching.

When you got in, you were met by Natalie. "Y/N?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nothing. I just passed out. I'm fine, really."

"Shoot," Emma said. "My mom's here to pick me up. Said she doesn't want me here because of all the press since I'm not hurt. I'm sorry."

You waved your hand. "It's fine. Hopefully, I'll be getting out here soon, too. See you later."

"Bye, Y/N."

"If you passed out, you're not fine, Y/N," Natalie said.

As you were wheeled past a trauma room, you saw your brother. Luckily for you, he was too focused on his patient that he didn't notice.

"Want me to get Will?" Natalie asked when she saw you glance in there.

"No! I mean, he looks really busy and I'm not dying. They should be the first priority."

"Okay, well I'll have Maggie call your dad because after all the standard tests, if I need to do more, I'm going to need your dad's permission since you're still a minor."

"Okay."

"Hey, Maggie," Natalie called, "Do me a favor and call Y/N's dad for me. I just might need permission to run some additional tests."

"You got it."

You got on the bed in the treatment room and allowed Natalie to listen to your heart and lungs. "Were you part of the crush?" she asked. "Did you get the wind knocked out of you? Is that why you passed out?"

"No, I got dizzy before we could get inside. I felt nauseous, too, but I think that was just from period cramps."

"The paramedics said you were dehydrated and that they had to administer an IV. Have you been eating and drinking properly? I know it's hot and that can cause you to pass out. Other than that factor, have you been eating and drinking normally?"

"Yes," you lied.

"Okay, I'm just going to need to get your height and weight and other vitals before we continue."

You nodded and followed her to where she took your height and weight. She wrote it down and you started to walk out, but she stopped you. "Uh, Y/N, come with me."

You followed her to the doctor's lounge where she handed you her sweatshirt. "Why are you giving me this?"

"You bled through your shorts. There's free pads and tampons in the bathroom if you don't have any on you."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"Meet me back here once you're finished."

"Okay."

When you got into the bathroom, you took all the pads and tampons you could fit in your shorts pockets after you had finished changing your dirty one.

Now, it was time for your great escape. No one would see you; they were all too busy treating other patients and worrying about the press.

You were almost out into the waiting room, but then a voice stopped you.

"Y/N?"

Shit. Jay.

You stopped in your tracks but then continued walking.

"Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around, hoping you wouldn't have to spill all the secrets about what's been happening at home.

***

"Poor guy," Erin said as she and Jay exited Sharon Goodwin's office. "He thought what he was going was right."

"I probably would've done the same thing if I were in his shoes," Jay agreed. "I mean, if I thought I saw a guy with an AR-15 in a movie theater and then thought the shots from the movie were coming from the gun, I sure as hell would've acted. Not that my service weapon can shoot bullets off as much as my sniper, but I'd try. Try and save civilians."

"Jay." Erin placed a hand on his arm. "You're not in Afghanistan anymore."

"I know. There's just some sick and twisted people in this world. Why would someone go into a theater with a leaf blower anyway? With all the mass shootings that have happened, that's probably the stupidest idea I've heard."

"I agree with you. But he's just a kid. He didn't ask to get shot. But, if I were in that teacher's shoes, I'd probably do the same thing and draw my gun."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he saw someone walking towards the exit of the ED and towards the waiting room. She had shorts and a t-shirt on with a burgundy sweatshirt tied around her waist. Jay wouldn't have given it a second thought, but he knew you had the same gray beat-up Converse because he had gotten them for you for a birthday present two years ago and you always wore the same polka dot scrunchie when you needed your hair to be in a bun and needed it to be tight.

"Is that?..." Erin trailed off.

"I think so," Jay answered, quickening his pace to catch up with you before you got out of the ED and he lost sight of you due to the number of people in the waiting room. "Y/N!" he yelled.

The girl he thought was you froze for a split second and then continued walking, this time at a faster pace. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around.

"I was going to tell you," you mumbled once you were in front of him.

He scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Yeah? And when were you planning on calling Dad? You know you're a minor so a parent needs to be notified."

"Y/N!" Natalie yelled. "I thought you left, I was so close to getting security to look for you. We couldn't get a hold of your dad and were going to call Jay since he's your secondary emergency contact, but he's here now, so if both of you could follow me then that'd be great."

"You got it from here, Erin?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, text me if you need me to pick you up and bring you back to the district."

"Will do. Don't let Voight bust my balls because I skipped out."

"I'll tell him Y/N had a medical emergency. He'll understand."

"Thanks."

You, Natalie, and Jay walked back into the treatment room where Natalie had been previously treating you.

"First of all, let me just say it was not a medical emergency," you told your brother.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I was feeling nauseous."

"And you came to the ED just because of some nausea?" He raised an eyebrow. He so knew you were lying.

Meanwhile, Will was walking out of a trauma room after Rhodes brought a victim up to surgery.

"Hey. You hear?" Reese asked as she walked up to the doctor. "The kid at the theater, the one who got shot, he didn't have a gun, he had a leaf blower."

"What?" Will asked, stunned. He had worked on that kid and knew that it wasn't good.

"Yeah, turns out it was some kind of prank." She was about to turn around to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and your sister's here. Treatment one."

"What? Why?"

"I think she passed out or something. Dr. Manning's in there with her right now."

"Thanks, Reese."

Will barged into your treatment room. "So, she comes into the ED and nobody has the common decency to even notify me?" he asked rhetorically.

"You were busy treating other patients, Will. I was going to get around to it eventually," Natalie said.

"Natalie, please just finish explaining what happened. Or just start from the beginning because Will's here now," Jay suggested, not wanting to have to break up an argument between the two doctors.

Now it was Will who was the one who crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, Will, what happened was that Y/N passed out. She was almost inside the movie theater, but she passed out, so she didn't go in."

"The movie theater where the shooting happened?" Jay asked. You nodded. "Jesus, kid, if you would've gotten inside, you would've given both me and Will heart attacks."

"Sorry. But, I'm glad I didn't get that far."

"Yeah, us too," Will agreed. "So, why'd she pass out?"

"Can I talk to you two for a minute? Outside?"

They nodded. "Be right back," Jay told you.

"So, what's going on?" Jay asked once the three were safely outside of the room and out of earshot from you.

"Have you noticed anything strange with her eating habits lately? Any skipping meals? Going to the bathroom right after meals? Not wanting to eat?" Natalie asked the two brothers.

"No, nothing," Jay answered. "Granted, we don't eat with her a lot because she lives with our dad and we both live on our own."

"Okay, because since her physical check-up a month and a half ago, Y/N's lost fifteen pounds."

"Fifteen?" Will asked, flabbergasted.

"I thought she looked smaller, but I just thought I was hallucinating from lack of sleep because of all the crazy cases we've had," Jay said.

"No, she's lost fifteen pounds since her last check-up," Dr. Manning reiterated.

"So, what are you saying?" Will asked. "Our sister's anorexic? Bulimic?"

"I'm not saying any of those yet. But, I talked to Dr. Charles while Y/N was in the bathroom and she said to try and have her eat something, like the greasiest thing you can find in the cafeteria, and see what she does. We'll even leave the room after to chat and I'll have Maggie keep an eye on the bathrooms to see if she goes in there. If she refuses to eat or freaks out over it, then we might be dealing with anorexia. If she goes into the bathroom after, we might be dealing with bulimia. Or, it could be a combination of the two or just possibly her trying to lose weight. Has she ever mentioned wanting to lose weight to either of you?"

"No, not all," Jay answered. "Even when we went out after her last day of school, which I think was about two weeks after she had that physical, she ate a ton and she didn't go to the bathroom right after."

"But you did go home right after," Will pointed out.

"Yeah."

"But, with some bulimics, if they know that the food has already been digested, they won't try to purge. And, it sounds like the food had time to digest."

"Alright, I'll go grab her a bacon cheeseburger."

"And a side of mac n cheese," Jay suggested. "She loves that stuff." Will started to walk out, but Jay stopped him once more. "Can you pick me up a bacon cheeseburger, too? I'm hungry."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but just so you know, you're paying me back."

"I know," Jay said and then went back inside the treatment room.

"Where's Will?" you asked.

"He's getting you some food. How does a bacon cheeseburger and mac n cheese sound?"

God, your mouth watered just at the thought of the bacon cheeseburger alone. The juicy patty, melty cheese, and crispy bacon, yum. And, you hadn't had a burger in who knows how long.

"That sounds amazing honestly," you answered.

"Okay, good because that's what Will's getting you." He paused. "Is everything okay with Dad? Everything good at home?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied.

"Did someone tell you that you were fat at all?"

Shit, he knew I'd lost weight. "No," you answered. "I guess I'm not just mindlessly snacking when I'm doing homework anymore. It's not like I'm trying to lose weight."

No way were you going to tell him that there was rarely any food in the house, not here anyway.

"Okay, good," Jay answered. Then, he looked out of the room to see Will talking with Natalie. But, they were close enough that you could hear them, so you turned your attention to the two as well.

"Hey, Nat," Will said, carrying a bag with three cheeseburgers and a side of mac n cheese.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm thinking, I only live a mile from you. So, when you go into labor, call me. I'll drive you here."

"Thanks, but...you know it could be three in the morning, right?"

"Sleep's overrated anyway."

Then, Will made his way back into your treatment room. "I wanna take you to the hospital," Jay mocked. "Very smooth, Will, very smooth."

"Will's got a crush, Will's got a crush," you said in a sing-song voice.

"Would you two knuckleheads keep it down? And no, I do not have a crush, I was just trying to be helpful."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right. You totally have a crush on her, man. Now, give us the food and we won't say anything."

***

"Everything seem normal?" Natalie asked Will as Jay was still sitting with you after the three of you had finished your food.

"Yeah, she ate a little faster than normal, but we waited an hour and she didn't even get up to go to the bathroom, so I don't think that's the issue. She told Jay she wasn't trying to lose weight. She said she just wasn't mindlessly eating anymore when she was doing homework. But, I don't think that could make her lose fifteen pounds. Do you?"

"No. But unfortunately, given her height and age, she still has a normal BMI, so we can't do anything."

"Yeah, I get it. Me and Jay will keep an eye on her. It was around this time when our dad just kind of checked out on parenting us."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't cook or really help us with anything. But, it was okay because our Mom was still around, so she'd cook and help us with things. He just thought we were old enough to deal with stuff on our own."

"Things that a teenager without another parent still needs help with."

"Exactly."

Jay poked his head out of the room. "Everything good? Y/N's asking when she can leave."

Will rolled his eyes. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Shut up."

"I'll grab you the discharge papers," Natalie said and then walked to a nurse's station.

Just then, Will's pager went off. "I gotta go." He fished into the pocket of his scrubs. "You can take my car home and then just come pick me up from work and we can drive back to the district to get your truck. That way you don't have to bug Erin."

"Thanks, man. Go save some lives."

Natalie came back and handed him the discharge papers.

"Thanks, Nat. Me and Will will be sure to keep an eye on her, maybe have her over for dinner once or twice a week to monitor her eating habits."

"That's a good idea. Good luck with all this. Will told me that this was around the time that your dad clocked out on you, so maybe pay him a visit when Y/N's not there and check? I don't know if that's something you'd want to do or not."

Jay nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"No problem."

Jay signed the discharge papers and then walked back into the room. "Good news."

"We can leave?" you asked excitedly as you sat up.

"We can leave," he confirmed.

***

You got out of the car and stood on the stoop of your house, Jay right next to you. "Jay," you started, "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything."

You opened your mouth to tell him that there was barely any food in the house and that your dad refused to buy you feminine hygiene products because, by his logic, if he had another son, he wouldn't need to buy them, so you should buy them yourself.

But then, the door opened, revealing your dad.

"I was just going to say thanks for staying with me at the hospital. I would've left if you didn't stop me."

"You're welcome."

"Care to tell me where you've been?" your dad asked.

You knew he was just putting on a show because Jay was there.

"I was at the park and then me and Emma were going to see a movie and then--" your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message.

"I've got it from here, Y/N. Dad, can I come inside?"

Pat Halstead nodded and you walked inside followed by your brother. "I'm gonna go upstairs and change," you said.

As you walked past the kitchen, you noticed a bunch of grocery bags, all of them full. He must've gone grocery shopping. At least you didn't have to worry about food for the next few days. But, you didn't know if he just did that because he finally listened to his voice mails and heard that you were in the hospital and were worried that they were going to find out that he was an unfit parent or because he finally came to his senses and realized that he was still responsible for you because you were a minor, which meant he needed to have food in the house.

As you walked upstairs, you checked your phone. It was Emma's neighbor asking if you could start helping her with kettle corn this Saturday. You responded with a yes because now, if your dad went back to not buying groceries, at least you'd be able to buy some for yourself.

A/N: Sorry this one was so short! It's kind of just to foreshadow the next installment of this. And, in the next installment, I will probably combine Seasons of PD: Season 4 and Seasons of Med: Season 2 because the storylines kind of go together. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll be happy to add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e

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cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Crossfire IV (Bucky x Reader x Steve)

Warnings: domestic violence, implied NON-CON, biker!Bucky

PLEASE DNI IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and your new husband Steve move back to his hometown. It is here that his past catches up with him, and you both pay the price.

You were awake when Steve left for work the next morning. He’d tried to coax you into sex, but you had feigned fatigue, telling him that you were still exhausted and sore from the previous night. You weren’t sure if he believed you, you had a feeling that he didn’t, but you didn’t care. He left you with a lingering kiss, blue eyes murky with a myriad of emotions you didn’t care to place.

You had laid in bed for an hour, just staring at the ceiling as you attempted to sort your thoughts and your feelings. Your husband, a man who was once your best friend but now a stranger to you, had been involved in a life of crime during his younger days that consisted of things that made your stomach turn. He’d hurt people, stolen from people, and probably much worse. Now, you were back in his hometown, reaping the consequences of his actions. Actions that he had failed to disclose with you.

After you finally got up, you just wandered aimlessly around the house. Here and there, you unpacked more stuff little by little, but after a while, you found yourself wondering if there was even a point. Surely, you couldn’t stay here. Right? That was something that should’ve been discussed in more detail last night but…

You released a sigh as you stepped outside, taking a few empty boxes to the trash.

You were so angry last night, and Steve… Thinking of what happened between you two left a sour taste in your mouth. You hadn’t even wanted to sleep with him, that’s how angry you were, and it seemed like Steve hadn’t cared. You shook your head, telling yourself that it was complicated. You both were dealing with an onslaught of emotions. You had just turned to head back inside when you heard the roar of a motorcycle.

Several motorcycles.

Your eyes widened and you turned back around just in time to watch 4 bikers pull into your yard, 3 of which you recognized. The 4th was a man you’d never seen before, his broad and bulky frame making you swallow, dirty blonde strands pulled back away from his face into a bun. They all parked, Sam, Clint and the mystery man remaining behind while Bucky approached you.

Without sparing him a second glance, you hurried back to your house. You could hear him calling your name, but you ignored him, determined to get away from him and inside as soon as possible. You may have been drunk, but you remembered the feel of his hands and lips on you clearly. Those same hands roughly grabbed you just as you took the first step onto the porch.

A yelp escaped you as he pulled you to him, roughly helping you up the steps. You could feel his heartbeat against your arm, his breath disrupting your hair. Despite your efforts to fight him off, he jerked you around easily until you were facing him. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the 3 other men were just sitting there on their bikes, watching the whole ordeal. You had a feeling they didn’t stop by to say hello.

“You talk to Steve?” he wondered, head tilted to the side.

You didn’t answer him, looking away, and he chuckled, a smirk in his voice as he spoke.

“Why do I get the feeling that your conversation didn’t go as planned?”

Again, you said nothing, and he hummed, forcing you to look at him.

“Maybe there wasn’t much talking involved, at all,” he mused. “Steve was always good at hiding his temper…”

Your eyes widened a bit, and his smirk grew.

“...until he couldn’t anymore.”

You snatched yourself out of the dark-haired man’s grip, wrapping your arms around yourself as you glanced at the other men in the yard. You released a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding and took a step back.

“Look… I’m sorry for what Steve did. It wasn’t right, and I wish that I had known before I came here…”

Bucky simply studied you, blue eyes narrowed a tad.

“...but this is between you and Steve. This should be handled between the two of you, and I’m sick of being involved with it.”

He raised his brows at your firm tone, and you tried not to let on how scared you really were. Truthfully, you were frustrated more than anything else. You were frustrated with the man before you for taking out his anger at Steve on you, and you were frustrated with Steve for keeping you in the dark about all of this.

“If I could take back what Steve did, I would. If I had that money to give you, I would for the sole hope of you leaving us alone, but I can’t. You’re angry, understandably, but discuss it over with the appropriate party. Stop cornering me, stop coming by our house unannounced when you know he isn’t here, stop touching me- just stop! This has nothing to do with me-!”

“What if it did?” he interrupted, taking a step towards you.

You frowned at him, forcing yourself to stand your ground, resisting the urge to squirm as he ran his cold eyes over you.

“Even if Steve did have that money, he wouldn’t give it back,” he said, confirming your own suspicions about all of this. “I’m not expecting it back, but…”

He stopped a hair’s width away from you, looking down his nose at you. For a moment, you forgot about the other 3 parties watching you two, and you stumbled back, prepared to run into the house when Bucky grabbed you. His hands were painful on your arms, and you winced, attempting to push him away.

“What if this did involve you?”

“Let go of me,” you whispered, but he continued as if he hadn’t heard you.

“What if you could do something to make all of this go away?”

You froze, frown deepening as you fought to understand what he meant. You didn’t like the way he was looking at you. You never liked the way he looked at you, but there was something especially heinous about the way he was looking at you now. He leaned in, his nose brushing against your own, and you leaned back as much as you possibly could.

“God knows I would love to punch that punk until he swallowed all of his teeth for what he did. I’d kill to take everything away from him so he could feel a fraction of what I did when he betrayed us…”

His voice was low, thick with something you were too scared to name. He jerked you closer, and you stumbled into him, your chest pressed against his as he hummed.

“...but why do all of that...when I could just take you?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and nausea washed over you like a wave. His blue eyes sparkled as he grinned, looking even more intimidating as his teeth winked at you.

“I think that would upset him very much. I think that’d drive him absolutely insane, wouldn’t it?”

You were fighting against him now, but he wasn’t letting up, and tears sprang to your eyes as he continued to torment you with his words.

“...to know that you’re mine now, and that you came willingly. That would be the real kicker-.”

“Let go of me,” you spat.

“It would eat him up inside, knowing that you’re with me, taking my cock every night-.”

“Stop!”

“That I have you wrapped around me, filling you up as much as I want, and all to protect him-.”

He cut himself off with a chuckle as you finally got out of his hold, stumbling towards the door. Your chest was heaving with anger and disgust and panic all rolled into one. You struggled to open the door, and he laughed at you some more.

“Let me know what you think, doll. You’ve got 3 days.”

You slammed the door in his face, back pressed to it as you slid to the floor. Your vision was blurry from your tears, and you drew your knees up to your chest, letting your head fall as the roar of motorcycles reached your ears.

Your back was pressed to the counter, arms folded over your chest, eyes on the simmering food when Steve walked through the door. He was quiet, and you would have found it odd but you were quiet too. You bit your lip, moving to turn the pots off when he entered the kitchen.

“Dinner’s ready,” you quietly told him, and he simply hummed.

You finally turned to look at him, surprised to find a frown on his face. You chose not to dwell on it and instead cleared your throat, shifting on your feet.

“Steve, we need to talk.”

He exhaled through his nose, and you watched as he rolled the sleeves of his button down up, resting his hands on his hips.

“Yeah...we do.”

You didn’t like his tone, heart stuttering as you stood on the end of his heated gaze.

“Why don’t you go first...”

His words were gentle, but the edge in his voice betrayed him. Shaking it off, you spoke.

“I think we should leave.”

He blinked, and it seemed that he hadn’t been expecting that, and you continued.

“It isn’t safe here, and I want to start a family somewhere safe. Let’s leave,” you breathed, walking towards him and taking his hand.

He stared at you with pursed lips and hard eyes, and you squeezed his hand.

“Let’s go,” you pleaded. “Only half of our stuff is unpacked anyway. Let’s just pack up the rest and get out of here.”

Steve stared at you for a long time, not saying anything, and you wondered what he was thinking. For the first time in a long time, you couldn’t really get a read on him, and that made you frown. He took a deep breath, heaving a heavy sigh as he tilted his head at you.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Bucky’s visit today...would it?”

His words made you freeze, and you blinked at him, brows drawing together at his words. You opened and closed your mouth, at a loss for words before you finally cleared your throat.

“...what?”

“You heard me,” Steve said, stepping towards you.

You took a step back, shaking your head.

“I-.”

“Why was he here, Y/N? Why didn’t you call me the minute you could? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You were taken aback by his tone, and you shook your head.

“I didn’t… It doesn’t matter-.”

“It does to me,” he interrupted, taking another step towards you, forcing you back. “Why does he keep showing up here? Showing up wherever you are?”

You didn’t like the accusations in his voice, and you felt irritation rising.

“You know why! You did this, Steve…”

He scoffed.

“You did! You’re the reason he keeps showing up and I… I just- I just want to leave. Let’s just go! Please,” you begged, trying to pull him out of the kitchen, but he wouldn’t nudge.

“What did he say to you?”

“How did you even know?”

This wasn’t the first time he’d caught you off guard with knowing something before you even got to tell him.

“Does that matter? Why was he here? What did he say?”

“Who cares?” you screamed.

“Clearly you do since it’s scaring you enough to run,” he argued.

“Yes, I’m scared!”

You huffed at him, not understanding how he wasn’t getting it.

“I can’t go anywhere without him showing up and threatening me. You dragged me into this with no warning, no hint, no nothing! I’m terrified, Steve,” you cried. “I don’t feel safe here, and I feel like you don’t care.”

“Of course, I care,” he sighed, pulling you into his arms. “I just… I came back here to settle down. This is my home, and I won’t be bullied out of it.”

You shook your head, pulling away from him.

“Steve...I have 3 days. He wants...he wants me,” you softly whispered, almost afraid to say it.

Steve’s hold tightened on your arms, and your eyes focused on the floor.

“He’s threatening to hurt you or worse unless I…”

“Unless you what? Give yourself to him?”

His hold tightened to a painful degree, and you hissed, trying to pull away. You looked at him again and found Steve the angriest you’d ever seen him.

“This is why we should just leave-.”

“This is why I should make it clear once and for all that he isn’t welcome here, around you,” he gritted out, moving away from you.

You watched as he neared the coffee table, where his keys were, and you nearly growled in frustration.

“Steve, stop,” you said, grabbing onto his arm.

“Why?” he wondered, whirling on you. “Why are you trying to protect him?”

“I’m not,” you snapped, offended at his implications. “I’m trying to protect you. Us! Just leave it alone, leave him alone, and let’s go! Please, Steve-.”

You swallowed your words when he grabbed you again, forcing you back as he pressed his chest to yours.

“Would you have done it? If you hadn’t told me, in 3 days, would you have gone to him?”

His question threw you, and you hesitated. Would you? To protect Steve, you’d do just about anything, but would you go to Bucky?

“You would,” he decided for you, and you shook your head. “He keeps sniffing around here, and I’m starting to think you like it.”

“Excuse me?” you gasped.

Your back harshly met the wall, and you flinched. Steve towered over you, looking much larger than usual. Your confusion had to have been all over your features, but Steve was too far gone too care.

“You have to.”

“I am literally trying to leave-.”

“No one is that stupid,” he sneered.

“Hey!”

Tears sprang to your eyes again, lips trembling as he pushed away from you, shaking his head.

“You keep putting yourself in these situations, in these compromising positions with him-.”

“Stop!”

The house was quiet as you two just stared at each other, Steve’s eyes narrowed while yours were filled with tears, chest clenching from his painful words.

“You do not get to talk to me like that,” you whispered.

Steve at least had the decency to look away in shame, but by the clenching of his jaw, it was clear that he was still angry.

“I am your wife, and you do not get to talk to me that way. You did this, Steve. We are in this situation because of you, and it doesn’t seem like you plan to do anything about it. Anything that would help anyway,” you mumbled.

He didn’t respond, and you released a shaky breath, trying to hold back more tears.

“I’m going to bed. Enjoy your dinner,” you sneered, brushing past him and making your way up the stairs.

Steve joined you only an hour or so later, and you feigned sleep despite being wide awake. You could barely stand to lay beside him, and the thought made your heart hurt. He had never looked at you like that, talked to you like that. Your husband was becoming a stranger to you, and you hated it. It made you sad, but it made you just as angry.

Steve had let you walk into all of this blind, putting not only your life in danger, but the possible life of your future child. The two of you had discussed children often, and it seemed agreed upon that you both wanted to get started right away. Did he honestly expect you to raise a child in this? God, you could literally be pregnant, right now, and Steve didn’t seem to want to make this situation any better.

Before you knew it, it was 2 in the morning, and you were zipping up a small bag of clothes and toiletries that would last you a week. If anything, to you, it seemed like Steve was content to go back to his old lifestyle. He wanted to solve this in ways that you didn’t agree with, and if that’s what he wanted to do, then he was free to do it by himself.

It didn’t take long at all to write a brief note explaining your departure, expressing your hopes that he’d follow you, but you couldn’t stay here any longer. You didn’t feel safe in your own home and never in your life had you felt that way. You felt bad, sure, but your mental and physical health was far more important.

You bit your lip, keys clenched in your fist as you placed the letter on the coffee table. You knew Steve would be mad, but you also knew he’d understand. Right? He had to understand your fear, your concern. Right? You moved to unlock the door, hand on the knob, when a cold voice stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You whirled around with wide eyes, taking in Steve’s broad form standing at the top of the stairs. You pressed your hand to your heart, the sight of him almost giving you a heart attack, and you swallowed when you registered just what he’d asked you. You watched him make his way down the stairs, and you sighed.

“Steve, I can’t do this,” you quietly said.

Even in the darkness, you could make out the hardness of his eyes, the way his lips pressed together, jaw ticking.

“I want you to come with me, but… I can’t wait for you to realize just how bad this situation is. I can’t stay here.”

“So you were just going to leave?”

“I left a letter,” you lamely defended, swallowing.

He didn’t stop until he was right in front of you, and you watched the way his eyes narrowed.

“A letter.”

He was angry.

“Steve-.”

“You were just going to leave...in the middle of the night…”

“I can’t stay here-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as his hands clamped down on your arms, yanking you towards him. You stumbled into him, feet tripping over one another, and you hated the way he held you.

“You’re not leaving,” he quietly spat.

“I have to-!”

Your words died on your throat as one of his hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing tight, and you struggled to speak. His other arm curled around your waist, holding you to him, and you struggled in his grip. His nose pressed against yours, lips brushing your own as he glared at you.

“You are not leaving me.”

He grabbed the bag on your shoulder, and you attempted to hold onto it while also getting out of his hold. In the struggle, your feet caught on one another, and you stumbled to the floor. You moved to push yourself to your knees, but Steve was there, fingers pressing into the sides of your throat as he pressed his hand on the back of your neck.

You winced, a pained gasp escaping you as you reached up. He forced you to your feet, holding you to him as he walked you towards the stairs.

“St-Steve…”

His other hand pressed to the front of your neck, lips at your ear.

“You are staying right here by my side.”

Your shoulders lifted at the pain that traveled through you, and you were somewhat in disbelief at what was happening.

“S-stop! Steve-!”

You hissed in pain when your foot hit a step, you put your hands out to prevent him from forcing you into the bedroom, but he shoved you inside with ease. You didn’t understand what was happening until the door clicked shut behind him, your face pressed into the bed as he pushed you onto it.

“You were going to leave me...leave me to wake up to any empty bed, an empty house...”

His voice was a deadly calm, and it scared you more than his hands on you at the moment. Hands that were pulling at your clothes.

“What were you hoping to accomplish? Because I would have followed you and dragged you back here without hesitation,” he sneered.

The cool night air hit you, and you shook, face wet from tears as reality began to set in. His bare chest pressed to your back, pinning you down beneath him, a hand on your head as his lips grazed over your neck.

“For better or worse, sweetheart. Those are the vows we took-.”

“Steve, please,” you tearfully begged as he pressed your face further into the sheets.

“...this is just a little snag, a little bit of the worse, but let me remind you of the better…”

tags: @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @kellyn1604 @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @ksjksjkv @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @buckybarnesplumwhore @navegandoaciegas @c1nnam0n-g4rl @mr-darcy-is-a-hobbit @siriusjohnpotter @candy3002 @jevans2 @beardburnsupersoldiers @widowsmaximoff @nerdygirl8203 @literalmcuhoe @supernaturalwintersoldier @charmed-asylum

#dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #biker!bucky #biker au #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Dark Fic

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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years

Note

do you have any theories about the india trip ?? personally, im not sure what to think about it, but i’d love to hear your thoughts !!

(Sorry its taken me so long to answer this - it just got lost in my drafts cause im an idiot lmao 🤦‍♀️)

Im not entirely certain on what I believe happened in India, if in fact anything did happen at all - but more on that later! I guess though that these are the main theories (though if you have any differing opinions/theories, feel free to discuss them!):

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

2. John wanted to further their relationship, and Paul wanted to maintain the ‘friends with benefits’ situation they already had

3. Nothing significant happened between the two (yet something still changed in John)

I’ll try to discuss which theories I find the most convincing, compelling and substantiated - as well as offering my own opinions and hypothesis’s ^^ (discussion bellow the cut)

1. Paul rejected John’s advancements

The theory I would say im most drawn to - not the theory that im necessarily most convinced by though - is that John made a move on Paul, after a few years of pining for him, and was subsequently rejected. Its a theory that I tend to be compelled by, but I have to admit that its one I struggle to justify entirely. The problem with this theory, for me, is that this is a conclusion ive drawn based mostly off of what their relationship appeared to look like after India. It seems as though something must have happened between them to have ruptured their relationship as profoundly as it did - and because they were on relatively good terms before India*, combined with certain inferences we could draw from comments John made regarding his feelings towards Paul and their relationship, it feels as though it’s possible that he made an advance on Paul, which was rejected and thus caused the ultimate disintegration of the Lennon/McCartney relationship.

(*I mean, their relationship was always complicated and difficult - but it seems that it was okay-ish prior to India, and then just inexplicably plummeted after the trip)

But nobody (as far as im aware) has confirmed, or even really alluded to, this advancement or rejection ever having happened. And the lack of evidence substantiating the claim is a major draw back for me!

However, I do also feel as though nobody’s really come out about anything that happened in India - all ive heard is that they meditated, wrote songs, John and Cyn fought, and Ringo ate baked beans. But like, more must have happened on the trip, surely? Im not saying the absence of information regarding the trip is proof that there was a big “lovers quarrel” between John and Paul, and that everyone involved in that trip is now just sworn to secrecy or something - but like, id just like to see a biographer really investigate the holiday, and try to conclude what events might have occurred during the trip, because as of right now, with the information we have, it seems to have been, bizarrely, both a lacklustre and uneventful, yet still hugely impactful event. If the narrative of the “India trip” were to be shifted in the future in light of new information, the same way the narrative of “Let It Be/Get Back” is being changed, I wouldn’t be surprised!

2. John wanted more, but Paul didn’t

Another popular theory is that John and Paul were engaged in something of a physical affair, but in India John proposed (or perhaps demanded even) that they take their relationship further, and Paul just wasn’t compelled to do so.

Beliefs vary regarding this, based on how far you personally think their relationship went: some might say they only ever did a little drunken experimenting with one another, and that it was just a fun fling until John suggested they take it further. Others might argue that they were in fact in a committed relationship, and John wanted to go public with it - or at the very least, demanded exclusivity between him and Paul.

In entertaining this theory, im most compelled to believe that John and Paul were engaged in occasional “flings”, and perhaps by ‘68 were even acknowledging that there was some deeper and more sincere between them - but ultimately, I don’t think Paul would have ever been inclined to fully commit to John, because I think he always wanted children and a family. In addition to this, though its clear John and Paul were passionate about one another, it isn’t clear how compatible they were in the long term - and with Paul being the more grounded of the too, I suspect he would have recognised this incompatibility, which John (the idealist) might not have.

Though I admit that John could certainly be unrealistic and irrational, im not convinced that he suggested to Paul they go public with their relationship, because I think John still had a fairly strong sense of his place in popular culture, and would have still been able to recognise that if they were to “come out”, it would probably deeply and irreparably damage both their careers - as well as George and Ringo’s too - at least amongst the general public. They’d still have some ardent fans, but their following overall would have become far more niche, and the “beatlemania” would’ve worn off swiftly. Im not sure if either of them would’ve been willing to take that heat in ‘68, especially not Paul, who as I mentioned earlier, I think might have recognised the futility and incompatibility inherent in their relationship.

Then again though, John was always a little “cocky”* when it came to his sexuality - I think if an interviewer were to genuinely have enquired into his sexuality, straight up asking him “Are you bi? Gay?” I get the sense that he would have told us! Sure he’d probably have dressed the response up with a dozen quick quips and jokes, but ultimately, I think he would have given a sincere response. And so, perhaps he did feel he had the confidence, at least in India, to actually “come out”, but if Paul wasn’t willing to make this official with him, perhaps this confidence dissipated.

(*No pun intended you pervs🤦‍♂️)

Another thing to note about India is that they’d have been relatively secluded, as well as off the drugs/drinks for the most part - and this would have forced them to really reflect upon their relationship. Perhaps John saw that he wasn’t contented with Cynthia, and recognised his desire for more from Paul - and so in such a raw state of mind, I can see how he’d become so shattered if Paul were to have rejected him (that statement could relate both to the first and second theory, I feel). Perhaps John made an advance upon Paul whilst they were both sober for the first time, and that changed their relationship somehow? Just thinking out loud here!

But again, this theory overall has the same problem as the first in that, though it appears to make sense, it still lacks proof; it ultimately isn’t a substantiated claim.

3. Nothing happened between J&P, but something changed

This is probably the theory that everybody is least interested in hearing, but I still think its a pretty valid one, albeit the least dramatic (In my opinion though its still a really interesting perspective to explore though!).

Its possible that nothing of particular significance happened in India, but something still shifted in John, causing him to vilify and reject Paul. The issue with this though, is that it begs the question: why did John undergo such a significant change in India then?

Id argue that perhaps John was making very subtle and slight moves towards Paul, that Paul either ignored or didn't pick up on. Id assume that perhaps John had been hinting at this desire for awhile now, and maybe he got it into his head that in India, where him and Paul would have a lot of time to be alone and intimate, his feelings would finally be reciprocated. But then, Paul never picked up on these hints, and never made any advancements - and this broke something within John. It would fit neatly within the Yoko narrative, because it offers reasoning to the abrupt but intense attachment John formed towards her almost immediately after India - as well as explaining the sudden vilification of Paul. But I suppose that the first two theories also fit pretty neatly within the Yoko narrative, because they all relate to the same basic concept that John wanted more from Paul, and Paul didn’t - and so he tried to replace him with Yoko.

I suppose though, that the this theory overall could also be countered by making the argument that Paul also began to spiral after India, and so some occurrence presumably must have happened to Paul too. I wonder though if its possible that maybe Pauls spiralling was kind of a result of Johns? I get the sense though that Paul would need a change in his life to cause his mental health to seriously deteriorate, but I don’t feel like the same is necessarily true for John - I think John is sort of the type to spiral, irregardless of whether his life undergoes a significant change or not, because I think John was the force driving a lot of the drama and troubles throughout his lifetime. So if Johns mental well-being started seriously deteriorating, I can see this being a cause of panic and anxiety for Paul.

But something that further inclines me to believe that an actual event occurred between John and Paul is this extract from Geoff Emmericks memoir (x)(id recommend reading the entire extract, its interesting!):

‘I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed.”’

It just really feels as though there was some confrontation between John and Paul that had to have happened to perpetuate the miscommunication later seen between them. Like if there hadn’t been some kind of confrontation, then I can’t really understand why Paul would be reluctant to speak about India, or harbour any regrets or dismay regarding the journey. Perhaps you could drill it down to the betrayal they appeared to have felt by Maharishi allegedly hitting on girls - but I feel like this was a “betrayal” mostly felt by John, I never really got the sense that Paul was deeply effected by it.

But yeah - those are the main theories I think.

Overall, I think that the third theory is probably the most substantiated claim, but I think it leaves a lot to desired. It just doesn’t feel like it totally fits together, as though theres more to the story - but I guess relationships and peoples psyches aren’t puzzles, and so not everything is always going to piece together perfectly; but I dunno.

Like I said though, the theory im most compelled by is the first. I acknowledge that it lacks evidence, but it just seems to make a lot of sense to me! But really, who knows what the hell happened in India?

If anyone else has an opinion on all this, or wants to expand upon or even suggest a new theory, feel free to! I always like hearing from you guys!

#mclennon #asks #@cinnamontoastandtears #thanks for the ask!#india #what the fuck happened in india #maharishi #pauls sexuality #discussion

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lovel4ce · 3 years

Note

HIHI IMAGINE THIS:

~ stubborn

~ bratty

~ shy— YES YOU HEARD ME

MEGUMI THATS YOUR STEPBRO AND LIKE YK... ONE DAY YOU WEAR THESE BLACK HIGH THIGHS- i think you know where this is going..😊😊😊

your wish is my command miss <3

warnings: f!reader, NSFW, stepcest, stubborn and bratty reader, cunnilingus, degradation, dumbification, lowercase and yeah :) lmk if i missed anything

a/n: IVE HAD THIS IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG NOW AND I POSTED MY INTRODUCTION POST IN JANUARY IM SORRY KSNDKSND also im deciding to make this a drabble kind of?? i’m trying to figure out how I like to write so i’m sorry if this is really crappy 🦆

you wanted to be as subtle as you possibly could be. wearing the smallest mini skirts and the tightest shirts you own. you didn’t think your gumi-nii would catch on right?

wrong.

he knew you were a shy and stubborn brat and if he did or said anything about it you would act like an oblivious dumb baby hence why you were so casual with it. bending over in front of him just to see your soaked panties just waiting for him to touch you and take what’s his.

of course he knew what you wanted so who was he to ignore his little stepsister’s cry for help the day she wore the black thigh highs that her stepbrother loves oh so much.

it’d started at the dinner table while he’d play with the hem of the socks. when everyone was finished with their meal and you’re parents went to the store to go get something for the following day, he had whispered something in your ear that sent chills down your spine and heat straight to your very core.

“what do you think you’re doing wearing these my little bratty slut? were you really so desperate for gumi-nii to touch you that badly?” he said huskily it sends a shiver down your spine.

you rubbed your legs together and let out a small whimper.

“i need words, princess.”

“yes gumi-nii i want you so badly please.” you whined like it was your ticket to absolute bliss.

which it technically was.

he realized he wanted, no, he NEEDED to taste you as soon as he heard you say the three letter word. he spread you out on the table right where your parents were sitting only to find that you weren’t wearing any panties.

“what would our parents think of you if they found you like this? no panties, all spread out for your older brother, right where they ate dinner nonetheless,”

you started to tear up at the image of your parents finding you like this. i mean you were their sweet little girl after all.

“but you would like that wouldn’t you?” megumi asked as he takes his tongue and takes a long, hot, swipe at your cunt. you moan so lewdly at the first touch he’s given you for the night.

you can’t even think straight anymore as he starts to devour you. you haven’t even been fucked yet and but yet you’re going stupid on your bully of a stepbrothers tongue.

“I like to be answered when I ask questions, sweetheart” he spits and he slaps your abused pussy, drawing you even closer to your high.

“yes! yes gumi i would! i would, i would, i would, please make me cum gumi~!!”

your pleas rolling off your tongue one after another and megumi is loving ever single second.

“yeah? you’re going to cum all over my face?” he responds and it’s like he knew that’s all you needed to do just that.

“yeah just like that baby” he spoke roughly as he rode out your orgasm.

it took you a few seconds to calm down from your high but you would recover soon enough.

he would take you upstairs to his room bridal style only to throw you on his bed.

“strip. but keep the socks on.”

you didn’t hesitate to do so as he strips down to his boxers. you stare in wonder as you reach out to touch him but was quickly stopped by his hand grabbing your wrist. he gave you a look that you knew meant ‘don’t do that again.’ he pulled down his boxers only to have his massive cock spring up (must’ve gotten it from his dad). he didn’t wait any time to fuck you, i mean, why would he? he just ate you out in the kitchen did he not?

“honestly you little slut, if you really wanted me that badly,” he paused, lining himself up with your wet pussy.

“you could’ve just asked.”

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otonymous · 3 years

Text

Fever Dreams (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)

Description: Gavin lets you in on the contents of his wet dreams… Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings: mentions of IV lines, hospitals, minor injuries, brief mentions of trauma, Eli’s sense of impending doom, vaginal intercourse, profanity, masturbation Word Count: ~3K words (~15 mins of sweet, sweet hospital lovemaking 🤣) Author’s Notes: Close your eyes. Imagine that Gavin is by your side — muscles flexed and lips so close they practically brush against the shell of your ear when he whispers the following:

“I hope you enjoy this fic, which was based on and inspired by Gavin’s Whispers/Biting The Ear (咬耳) ASMR from the CN server, beautifully translated by the incredibly talented and gracious @cheri-translates.” 🤣

In all seriousness, I’m extending a massive THANK YOU to the sweet @cheri-translates for providing me with the awesome goods that literally left me breathless! This fic would not have been possible without you! 💕 With that being said, hope you all enjoy it and happy reading! 🥰

👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼��🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

It was easy to forget at times; that Gavin was made of flesh and bone like everyone else.

That lionhearted though he was, the man wasn’t invincible, no matter what he would have you believe: hiding winces behind smiles and brushing off bruises blooming blue like they were nothing at all.

It was little wonder then that when the phone rang that night, it was Eli’s voice on the other line. And as you stood before the bathroom mirror, wrapped in nothing but a towel and watching the colour drain from your face, the stilted manner of his speech made it increasingly clear he was unused to delivering bad news.

“I’m gonna kill him when I see him,” Gavin swears under his breath, the hand with the IV drip attached pulling into a tight fist by his side.

Now you understood why.

“They’re making a fuss over nothing, keeping me in hospital for observation. It’s just a few scratches.”

Amber eyes train in your direction, the earnestness in their tender depths melting the edge of the anger you felt at always being the last to know anytime your lover got hurt. And when he tries to smile despite the bulky bandage plastered on his left cheek, your resistance falters.

“ ‘They’re making a fuss over nothing.’ I bet you’d say that even if you were missing a limb, Gavin Bai.”

Suddenly exhausted by the anxiety that made you rush to the Special Task Force hospital upon receiving Eli’s call, you slump into the chair at his bedside, still annoyed but relived to find that he was well enough to laugh at your sarcasm.

“Hmm, I must be in a lot of trouble if you’re calling me by name like that.”

Smirk spreading on that handsome face, his eyes take on a mischievous twinkle that makes him altogether impossible to resist. You couldn’t help but think of that rough and tumble high school senior who threw furtive glances in your direction every time he walked past in the halls, lip cut and face bruised.

“Come. It’s too late to go home now and you can’t sleep on the chair like that. Join me on the bed.”

Voice breaking through your reverie, Gavin holds out the hand that wasn’t hooked to the drip — large, strong and inviting. You hesitate, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you look towards the door.

“I-I really shouldn’t. We’re in a hospital and there won’t be enough room for the two of us. You, especially, need a good night’s sleep, being injured—”

Three dull pats sound in quick succession to interrupt you. Turning your head, you see Gavin scooting to one side of the bed, hand beckoning towards the newly vacated space. “The beds here are larger than the ones in your average hospital. STF perk, I guess. But if you insist on refusing then…I guess I’ll just have to accompany you in sleeping sitting up—”

Relenting with a click of the tongue, you snatch the pillow from his grasp just as he begins propping it up behind his back, sliding it beneath his head as you gingerly crawl in next to him.

“That’s my girl.”

Gavin’s whisper is electric in your ear, low and seductive in a way that made you question the innocence of his motives, wondering if he was already aware of the sensations his body pressed to the side of yours was eliciting. His lips curve in a smile on your forehead, breath dancing hot across skin. And when he reaches for you, the sight mesmerizes: long, tapered fingers smoothing slow along the strands of your hair.

“Eli must’ve called while you were still in the shower. You didn’t even have time to dry your hair, did you? Look at how wet it is.”

And though you were on the verge of telling him that it wasn’t only your hair that was wet, you thought better of it. There was a heaviness in his tone, weighed down by the concern that inevitably arose every time Gavin thought you weren’t taking care of yourself: encouraging you with bites of the BBQ pork rice he brought in takeout containers whenever you skipped meals during late nights at the office, draping his jacket over your shoulders when you shook from the cold — having decided on form over function in a lightweight but pretty new dress worn especially to impress on date nights.

“Don’t worry, it’s almost dry anyway.”

“Hmm.” Faint displeasure taints his acknowledgment, but you close your eyes to the furrow in his brows, unable to focus on anything other than the touch of his fingers on your skin — calloused tips tracing the line of your jaw to traipse over the chin until finally coming to rest on your lower lip. He is so close you can feel the tail end of your exhalation being drawn into Gavin’s next breath when he says:

“I know I really scared you this time. I’m sorry. I was careless, but it won’t happen again. Please don’t be mad, okay?”

Eyes opening to the sight of his, you study the specks of gold embossed in amber, beautifully familiar. See your reflection in the dark pupils holding your face in loving regard. Felt your heart chill at the thought of Gavin one day not returning home. And when the sting of tears arrives to redden the tip of your nose, you turn away, unwilling to add to his burdens with your own.

“All I ask…is that you be open with me. I know you want to protect me, Gavin. You don’t want me to worry. But it’s much worse to have to guess about whether or not you’re lying just to be kind. I’m a grown woman and your partner, so please don’t handle me with kid gloves. Let me take care of you too, sometimes.”

Staring at the patterns on the curtain drawn around the bed, you listen for the rhythm of his breath — slow and even in the ensuing silence and punctuated only by the intermittent beeps of machinery, the weight of your concerns slowly sinking in before he finally relents.

“Okay. I won’t keep anything from you anymore. I promise. So please…could you let me just…”

A hand wraps around your waist, grip firm yet gentle as he pulls you close beneath the thin sheet. You feel his mouth on the nape of your neck, Gavin’s kisses falling hot and insistent between muffled words.

“…hold you, like this?”

Nodding, you bite your lip, barely suppressing a moan to feel his fingers crawl beneath your shirt; warming themselves on the soft skin of your belly, tracing circles about the navel.

“Seven days. It’s been…hmm…seven days since I’ve last held you. It’s too long.”

The last statement is breathed into the curve of your neck and shoulder, your boyfriend inhaling deeply as he buries his face into the space, the embrace around you tightening as if touch alone could communicate all the longing he wasn’t quite able to put into words.

“It was a difficult mission. I couldn’t sleep. And anytime I did, I would dream of you. Always of you. Want to know what we did?”

Cotton-mouthed, you resort to nodding again.

“Then be a good girl and turn around first. I want…need to see you…that’s good. In my dreams, we’d be together, just like this. I’d have you in my arms, so close I could feel every inch of your body…how hot it is…just like now. No, don’t move away. I like it. I’ve got a fever, but I’m also feeling chilled. I want your heat.”

Those amber eyes are dark now, half-lidded and veiled with lust — proof that Gavin’s increasingly shallow breathing was not an exaggeration. It was a look you recognized; the expression his handsome face wore the moment he saw you again after a mission had kept him away for too long. It typically resulted in entire weekends spent in bed, limbs entwined as Gavin made love to you over and over again.

Until you were boneless and spent.

Until your lover was satisfied that he was thoroughly reacquainted with every curve of your body.

You reach for him: trembling fingers tracing the line of his brow, thumb circling the apple of his cheek. Gavin closes his eyes, exhalation shaky as he nuzzles into your palm to lay a kiss on that, too.

“Your touch feels cool on my skin.”

“Oh! I’m sorry—”

“No. Don’t be.” Fingers curling about the wrist that pulled back, Gavin gently guides your hand towards his forehead. “It’s nice. I like it. But…my back is warm too. Do you think you could help me lower the temperature there?”

Swallowing, you start to inch your hands towards the open back of his hospital gown. Gavin softly groans to feel your fingers running along the ridge of his shoulder blades, caressing defined muscles and faded scars you had committed to memory long ago.

“Is this all right?”

Now his turn to nod, Gavin’s head drops back, accentuating the bob of his prominent Adam’s apple in that strong, thick neck.

“I’m...ah…also feeling hot here.”

Large palms fall over the back of your hands, guiding them over his rib cage until they find themselves on the hard muscles of Gavin’s abdomen. Thighs pressing together beneath your skirt, you trace that defined V-line — touch featherlight in a way that draws out a shudder, goosebumps blooming across the expanse of Gavin’s skin.

Suddenly, you freeze to hear footsteps approaching in the hallway beyond the door. And just when you start to pull away, Gavin stops you with a whisper:

“Don’t worry. The nurse has already been in to check on me tonight. They won’t be back again, unless…unless they see that my heart rate has become unusually high.”

He winks.

“Besides, if they find you here, I’ll just say that, um…I’m afraid of sleeping by myself in the dark.”

That smirk again. You wonder at what point your boyfriend had become so cheeky, knowing just the right things to say to get his way.

“Could you help me? I’m burning up…right here.”

Lower and lower, he guides your hands, leaving them to their own devices when they reach the waistband of his boxers. Barely breathing, you watch as the expression on his face transforms from anticipation to euphoria the moment you slip past the elastic, fingers circling his hardened length with a loose grip.

“Officer, you weren’t lying!”

Gaze already heavy with want, the chuckle Gavin lets out in response has never sounded so sexy. “It’s because I’m running a fever. Or perhaps…it’s because I’m thinking of you. Do you think we should…make it even hotter?”

You wet your lips, feeling Gavin twitch in your hand at the sight; feel the vein pulsing on the underside of that thick shaft as he continues to swell in size. Firming up your grip, you begin to stroke in earnest, trying to maintain your rhythm despite the distraction of your own throbbing pussy, despite the way you grew increasingly wet to envision him sliding into your depths, satin panties clinging to the lines of your folds.

Smoothing your thumb over the liquid arousal beading at the tip of his cock, you draw wide, slick circles over velvet skin — paying especial attention to the ridge just below the swollen head because you loved how Gavin sounded when caught in the throes of ecstasy. It pleased you to pleasure him — the man who never thought twice about putting you before himself.

Always so strong, always fearless, you loved to watch him fall apart. Over you. Beneath you. In you. Held in the palm of your hand or folded to your embrace. You could feel the tension leaving his body — worn out and battered — each time he returned to your side from a mission, the trauma of all the things he couldn’t talk about seeping from every pore as you sought to show him love with the swing of your hips, the kisses you showered upon his sweat-soaked face. With the normalcy only the simplicity of a home-cooked meal could restore. “I love you,” he’d smile and say, amber eyes blinking once, twice…as if Gavin couldn’t quite believe you were real. “I really do.”

“This is the first time someone has stayed with me in the hospital, let alone shared my hospital bed.” Gavin’s voice is low, thick with emotion in between shuddering gasps elicited by each tug along his length. “Who would’ve thought that...even at a time like this…I’d be lucky enough not to be alone.”

“I’d never let you be lonely,” you say with a sudden vehemence that surprises even you. “Never again.”

He smiles, gentle eyes glistening when his large hand approaches to cup your face. Gavin touches you as if holding something of infinite importance, “Angel” falling from his lips in a soft utterance.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight. I don’t want to. What about you? Will you…stay up with me?…Help my fever break—”

You kiss him deeply, swallowing his words even as your tongue pushes past teeth to meet Gavin’s in reunion. You had missed him; missed the way he tasted, the hint of mint that lingered in the breath you shared, as if your very lives were as entwined as your bodies in embrace.

To lose him was to lose yourself.

And so, you give yourself over to the man who gave so much and asked for so little in return.

“Then I won’t sleep either. I want to stay with you.”

Throwing one last glance at the door, you rise to your knees, skirt bunching at the waist as you straddle his hips. Eyes wide, Gavin starts to move before you stop him, saying “Let me” as you push him back onto the bed before the IV line could pull taut.

You loved how Gavin looked at you, the artless way he wore his heart on his sleeve — showing in the pink of his cheeks, the blush creeping all the way to the tips of pierced ears. It was a side of him only you were privy to; unguarded and unfiltered. He watched you now, those amber eyes lit with a dark hunger to follow the motions of your hands: one pulling dampened panties aside as the other spreads glistening lips, guiding his cock along the length of your slit before you ease yourself onto his hard heat.

Unable to stop the moan that escapes, you slide…lower and lower…until the flesh of your buttocks meets the muscular plane of his pelvis. But the sensation continues — electricity spreading towards the very pit of the stomach to curl your spine, chest opening to receive all of his love.

Breathing barely controlled, Gavin bites hard on his lip in a bid to stay quiet, unwilling to attract the attention of curious staff. “God, you feel so good. I just…just want to move.”

“No, let me…let me be the one to take care of you this time. Please.”

For the second time that night, Gavin relents, yielding to your exquisite torture even as he fought to leash the animal impulse that spurred him to rip free of the machinery and fuck you until the bed collapsed. Hands clenching tight around the bedsheet, his knuckles grow white, as if the flimsy fabric were a lifeline keeping him from being swept away each time you lifted and lowered yourself onto him.

For everything about you drove him mad, from the tight, grinding circles you drew with your hips whenever he was fully sheathed, to the clenching embrace of your arousal-slicked walls that held him like no other, as if the entirety of you were created with him in mind. Or, at least, it was a fantasy he harboured; to think that fate had a hand in ordaining you his sole queen, and him, forever your humble servant.

“Ahh, Gavin!…I…you’re so deep, I’m com—”

You don’t get to finish before your mind blanks. All you could focus on was the sudden grip of Gavin’s hands on your hips and the shift of your weight forwards when his knees draw up, giving your lover the proper leverage to pound hard and fast into you from below until your arousal pools to drench those six-pack abs.

It nearly overwhelms you; the orgasm that makes you collapse onto Gavin’s chest, the contractions that hit like tidal waves moving through your body. They spur him on, continuing to fuck you so hard the bed shook, each and every thrust hitting just the right, swollen spot to keep you elevated on that high. And when you whisper

“I love you”

before your tongue extends to suck the lobe of his ear into your mouth, the tension building in the taut muscles of that perfect body breaks.

You hear your name leave his lips in a deep moan, feel him leave a part of himself in the secret space between your legs. Taste the salt of his sweat on kisses laid upon the pulse of his neck. Waited for his racing heart to slow before telling yours it was okay to do the same.

And when his arms wrap tightly around your body, “I love you, too” returned with palpable affection, you let yourself fall into slumber…knowing that even in dreams, Gavin would meet you there.

👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc gavin smut #mlqc smut #my writing #fanfiction #mlqc ASMR

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hitoshisbabygirl · 3 years

Text

Author's Notes ♡: Hello hello! Welcome to my first JJK fic for our free for all Valentine’s Day collab! I had fun with this free idea , I always wanted to do an AU like this so it gave me a bases for future ideas! Enjoy~ bunny ❥

Warnings : None! Some heavy kissing and such but nothing too explicit , Yuuji and Sukuna are twins ♡

Word count : 3.8k

Paring(s) : Tattooist!Sukuna x F! Reader

Enjoy ♡

———————————————————————

Sukuna couldn't stand it, the girl his brother brought over to his shop plagued his mind. Wide eyed and just as happy as Yuuji it was infuriating how energetic the pair was in the tattoo shop. He was used to the sound of his brother asking for him but once he hear a second voice his hand twitches , eyes moving from the drawing in front of him as his appointment in front of him practically was begging fro his attention, occasionally trying spark up a conversation as he drew out a rose, planned for her collarbone “So, did all of you tattoos hurt?” The girl asked, pushing herself closer as he continued to stech, not paying her much mind. “No, I guess i've always had tough skin though.” He said as the girl hummed and giggled continuing her talking “I've been afraid of needles for as long as I could’ve remembered, but maybe this'll get me over my fear huh?” she questioned as all he did was hum, finishing the small design. “Maybe. Is this okay?” He asked her as she gasped, her giggling increasing to his dismay

“Omg i love it! You're a good worker with your hands” She said as he started to get ready, popping off his rings as he put on gloves, running up red and black inks for the rose to be. “Your right shoulder, right?” Sukuna asked as she confirmed, moving her shirt a bit too low to try to entice him. Pushing more of it back up, Sukuna placed and got the stencil ready, finally looking up to the girl “Tell me if there's anything wrong okay ?” He said as she gave him an almost hungry look “oh please i sure will” And with that he started the tattoo, the girl he was tattooing letting out small cries and gaps. Every one of the sounds made him stop, checking on her as the girl tried to act differently but he knew she was in pain. Once the girl stopped in a crying spell and was able to calm down from the help of the giant tattooist “s-sorry i didn't know my collar bone was so sensitive” she said as he said she was okay, starting to go back to her tattoo once everything was better with the girl. Once finished , she started to pay when she started to hit on him again “ I'm still sorry for that whole thing , how about I get you a drink for the troubles huh?” She threw at him as he gave her a small smile “I have more clients later, and i'd rather not drink, don't really like to unless its special'' Sukuna responded as the girl admired her new rose that covered a small portion of her chest and collarbone “ How about we go celebrate my new tattoo? And the fact you helped me through it huh?” She suggested. Before he could respond he heard the high pitched sounds of laughter. Looking up to his door he saw his annoying brother but with one of the most beautiful girls he ever saw. Once finishing the payment with his client and her sliding her number on a piece of paper his brother came up with his friend “Hey Su! I want you to meet my bestfriend [ ]!” his hyper twin brother Yuuji said as Sukuna looked at the girl in front of them. She looked to be their age , shorter than him with a few tattoos and dyed hair herself. “Nice to meet you young lady”

Sukuna said as he took her hand, giving it a kiss. [ ] giggled as Yuuji fake choked, his brother rolling his eyes at him “ What? Not my fault you've never brought her around me, she's a lady, gotta give her a proper introduction right?” Sukuna teased as Yuuji grumbled causing [ ] to laugh “Well nice to properly meet you Sukuna , ive heard so much about the woman lure bad boy whos the polar opposite of his sweet and innocent twin” She teased as he gave her his own smirk “ Yet i know nothing of the cute little girl standing in front of me” Sukuna lashed back as [ ] felt her face heat up, a laugh coming from her. His brother pouted he stood in front of his brother , giving him a knowing look. “I brought her here for a tattoo, idiot” He said as Sukuna gave him a raised eyebrow, looking at the girl beside him “Is that right doll? Came here for a tattoo?” He asked as she gave him a shy smile back “Well erm, i kinda wanted to start a sleeve with you if that's alright?” with widened eyes Sukuna and Yuuji were surprised together, the strawberry blondes both looking as the girl gave them a confused look back “What? Is that bad?” She asked as sukuna kicked in “Nah, i'm surprised that you'd choose me ,i'm not the usual girly tattoo sleeve maker” He said as she gave him a smile, “And i'm not your usual girly girl who just wants flowers and shit as my tattoo” She retorted back as he gave her an impressed smirk, ushering her to the back of his studio room “You can come too twerp” he said to his brother as yuuji ran to join them, headed to the back room.

This became a recurring theme as over the next few days and even weeks , Sukuna and [ ] met to talk about her new additions, adding and removing elements as they started to get a good picture of what they both thought looked the best together, some ideas being saved for other single tattoos. “So how do you like it so far sweetheart?” Sukuna asked as [ ] gave him an enthusiastic squeal, moving over the turned drawing desk as she fell forward to hug the tattooed covered man. Shocked by her random falling grasp he chuckled, catching her so she wouldn't hit her hip on the swerving table and half giving her a hug back as they laughed together. [ ] pulled back some as she started to notice more differences between the twins. Starting with Sukunas face ; it was more clear and sunkissed, small freckles adorned his cheeks from the sunshine. Unlike his twin, she noticed how more stocky and strong his body and face was compared to Yuuji. The twins were pretty much identical , except for how they acted, the fact that Sukuna had tattoos and the sometimes usual differences between twins, like style and other small discrepancies. Unlike the bright and colorful yet athletic look Yuuji had , Sukuna tended to be more of a dark artsy look, usually black clothes , ripped jeans , rings and chains. He tended to give off the usual bad boy vibes, someone who you wouldn't want your parents to meet.

But under his hard exterior he was very personable , just as sweet as his twin. As she was lost in her own thoughts , her hands pushing off his chest he snapped her back to reality, a finger going under her chin as he gave her a gentle smile , catching the girl in midthought of her tattooist “Aren't you something….what's on your mind [ ]” He rasped out as her eyes widened, realizing how close they were. From the standing mirror she could really see it ; one of her thighs was in between his spreaded ones, the other in his right arm. From her arms wrapped around his neck her face was close to his, the two of them slightly chest to chest. Her body felt hot as the male in front of her smirked, meeting her eyes in the mirror as he looked at the scene in front of him too. Eyeing her in the mirror he could imagine the work to be put atop her skin, and how pretty she'd be in his work, the thought gave him a sense of protectiveness and overall close bond with the girl he was around for more than he'd had before. Spending hours a day , almost everyday except his super packed days had gotten him a closer bond with her and even with his twin brother, the group of them and their other friends relaxing and enjoying time together. The little things that they all did together made him realize how much he enjoyed taking a break. And how much he'd fallen for his new client.

Coming from his own thoughts he pulled her right leg higher onto his lap, causing her to fall forward as she gasped, their faces impossibly closer. “Hm...youre pretty when youre flustered..” he said absentmindedly as he looked back to them in the mirror ,wrapping an arm around her waist as he gave her a sly smile, moving back into the chair he sat in “S-sukuna?” [ ] questioned as he hummed, sliding his eyes from the mirror to her questioning ones. Tracing the hand on his chest he rose a brow, a silent sign to continue. “I-I can get down. I'm sorry i was a little excited-” She continued as she started to move. With quick ease Sukuna kept her in place, rubbing the back of her thigh as he leaned in, pulling her closer by the backs of her thighs “I like you here. You don't have to move unless you're uncomfortable” He said as she ran a hand through his messy hair, sliding it to his cheek as he laid his head in it, kissing her palm. With the small caring action she squeaked , making the male chuckle “Am i...moving too fast” He said , his voice barely a whisper as he tightened his grasp on her waist, eyes searching hers.

“N-no i'm just...surprised?” She half questioned as he gave a knowing smile, shifting her weight to completely have her in his lap. With a high pitched squeal and giggles [ ] landed comfortably , her calves hanging off as her thighs tightened around his waist. “See, isn't this more comfortable?” He asked as she shyly hid in his neck, overwhelmed by his random acts of affection “Sukuna...are you trying to just make me embarrassed” She whined as he stroked her back, putting her face deeper in his neck “Mh..no not particularly..kinda just...thinking” He said as he pulled his phone out. Facing the mirror he took a silent picture, a smirk on his lips as he looked it over. her body was perfectly flushed with his , her arms around his neck as the tattoo down her side was more prominent in the picture. From the way it looked was just a couple taking a handsy photo but for Sukuna, it was a seal for how he felt. He wanted to take more pictures like this, but with them being together. Mirror selfies, clothes or even more explicit for his own gallery ; he loved the way they looked together. Noticing how quiet he was [ ] sat up looking at the male as he set his phone up facing the mirror before squishing her face “Everything okay?” She asked with a squished face as he laughed , releasing her cheeks “I love this..” He admitted as she gave him a wide eyed look , his warm ones looking away from hers

“I know..all of this could be seen as a very lewd way to admit my feelings but..honestly i'm used to just having women want me for free tattoos and well..yknow..my talents'' Sukuna said as he gave her a crooked smile, a laugh coming from [ ] as she understood what he meant, but the fact that he's admitting feelings for her made her heart flutter “S-so you like me?” She asked warily as he let out a light sigh, leaning up to put their faces close again “Hey [ ]...i know this is awkward and embarrassing...for me at least...but..may i kiss you?” He whispered over her lips as she silently shook her head, letting her eyes feel heavy as he got closer, rubbing their lips faintly together. As soon as she tighten her arms around his neck he pushed his record on his phone, sealing their lips together. As the two started to make out he tightened his hands around her waist, a low hum coming from his throat as he bit her bottom lip, sliding his tongue in. the more heated it got the more she whimpered, pulling her kiss plumped lips away from his. Groaning he chased her lips, crashing them against his as they started to kiss again. Letting her nimble fingers move up from his neck she tugged at his hair at the back of his nape, making the male growl as he rocked her closer to him, his larger arms wrapping over her waist.

Once again she whined and pulled away, putting her head against his “Sukuna...I..geez you-” trying to catch her breath he gave an airsh laugh. Ending his video. Catching him touch his phone [ ] reached for it “What did you do?” She asked as he held the phone above his head, watching them kiss again as he grinned “Oh nothing..just wanted my confession is all” He said as she gave him a look “[ ]..i really do like you...god i could say i'm almost in love…” “Almost?” She whispered as he kissed her lips again “More like i am but..i dunno how you feel about me” He said as she gave him a soft look, kissing his cheek “I love the time we've spent together, and well, if you'll have me i'll be yours” She responded. A wide smile on his face as he leaned back in to kiss her, the new couple giggling through the sessions as they finalized the rest, starting on the masterpiece they had crafted together.

Starting on her sleeve was one of the most enjoyable things she had done. Every few weeks to a month depending on the healing time she was adding her next piece. As she finished all of her linework it came to coloring her colorful bits. For the next few months again she finished it, all while spending time with her tattooist boyfriend and friends. As she was to the final stretch of heer coloring she knew valentines day was coming up more and more. Her and Sukuna had been dating for around a year now, just a few weeks shy of it. As she came to the shop she waved to the receptionist, giving him a smile “Hey Megs, how are you?” Megumi, the inky haired boy looked up from his journal and gave [ ] a rare smile, “Hey [ ]! I'm good ,how are you today? Sukunas is in the back if youre ready for him” He said as she gave him smile “That's good! I'm so excited my tattoo should be done just in time for valentines day! Speaking of, do you have an idea of your valentine this year?” She teased as he gave her a shy look “Ah...not particularly but maybe once it came i would” He said as she gave him a nod in understanding. Hearing his girlfriend talking Sukuna came out, a grin on his lips “Hey babe” He said as he gave her a kiss to her neck, causing Megumi to groan as she giggled “Cmon dont make him uncomfortable with your affection, lets go big boy” She joked as she took her strawberry blonde to his room “Ah okay babe let me see your arm” Sukuna started as she took of his jacket, revealing her sleeveless crop top and work of art on her left arm. Turning her arm some he looked over her lines and color deposits , making sure everything looked right. “Its coming along nicely [ ]..i just have this little pieces on your forearm and we'd be done with piece” He said happily as she gave him a soft smile “I love it...just as much as i love you” She said as he looked up from her arm , giving her a shy smile “I love you more [ ]”

Sukuna said as he leaned up, kissing her lips as he set up his inks and machine, snapping his gloves as he started to finish her last pieces. As the buzzing of the machine lulled her comfortingly she caught the determined and concentrated look on his face as he tattooed away “Where do you wanna go on valentine's day...hypothetically speaking” Sukuna asked randomly as she started to fill in lines. Blinking comically, she looked down at her boyfriend. “Anything youd come up with” She said as he hummed, finishing up the last color as he wiped it clean, starting to clean up the ink and smaller tears in her skin hidden by the fresh ink. “Princess...thank you for letting me be the one that did your art…” He said as he traced her hand , kissing her fingertips as he flashed her a smile. “I love you more Su..” [ ] whispered back as she leaned forward, kissing his forehead.

As the two sat there in his studio and talked [ ] drew up a heart with their names in it , giggling as she showed her boyfriend “Look babe!” She said as he stopped cleaning his desk, analyzing her work “I like it, a lot. You did a great job sizing wise, and i always loved your cursive” he said as he ran a finger over the art again “You said you wanted to get better at tattooing, right?” Sukuna asked as he still looked over the design “Yeah i did, what about it?” [ ] asked as he stretched , reaching over as he pulled out his darkest black ink and vibrant red. Soon he picked up two pairs of gloves and one of his various machines “Ill let you do this on me, and i can do it on you if youd like” He said as she gave him a happy screech, starting to make the transfers “Really Sukuna, youd let me do that?” She asked as he nodded, prepping an empty space on his arm “Ill help you, make sure its deep enough but i trust you, you did a good job with the smaller ones on yourself. Youre good sweetheart im here “ And thats what he says the whole time she tattoos him, her lines were straight but she felt like her red names were lacking. Tracing them again the darken, showing up beautifully as she focused, holding his skin apart as she smiled at her work, wiping the access ink and covering it in ointment like he did earlier “I did it!” She jumped happily as he gave a satisfied grin, looking at her energetic girlfriend. ‘I love her’ he thought to himself as he thought of what hed do for her in the coming weeks for the day filled of love

On valentines day [ ] was at home, talking to Nobara as she heard a knock on her door. Telling the girl she'd call back, [ ] started at the door and opened it, seeing a giant bouquet of flowers as she took them nicely from the delivery boy “Uhhh miss [ ] correct? The sender also wanted you to have this” The boy fumbled with a note, handing it to the girl as she thanked him , watching him leave as she let out a happy squeal, reading it.

‘Dollface, I hope you're ready for tonight, I have a lot in store for us tonight. How about you wear that cute little black dress you got last time we went to the mall hm? I'll be over at four-SKR”

Giggling at his note she looked at the time, noting it was 2:00, she went to the back, starting to get dressed as she was excited to see what her boyfriend had planned for them. She took the time to curl her hair, setting them as she worked on her makeup. After taking the time she saw it was around 3:45. She smiled as she got a text from him, saying he was on his way. As she happily ran around her apartment , trying to get rid of the jitters she had for the night planned with her boyfriend. Soon she heard a knock on the door. Skipping to the dor she opened it to her tall boyfriend leaning against the frame, looking down at his girlfriend “Hi darling” Sukuna said as she stood on her toes , giving him a peck against his lips as she giggled “Hi” She responded as he wrapped his arms around her waist , kissing the crook of her neck. “Missed you..” He whispered as she hummed, rocking with him as they stumbled into her living room, Sukuna shutting her door behind him as he picked her up. Laughing , [ ] held onto him, looking down to her well dressed partner. He was in a black vest, adorned with red decals and black pants. Despite him wearing nicer clothes it had the same grudge feel to it, ringed fingers and pierced ears filled with glistening metals very promedent in his attire. As she gave him a glance over from being held in his arms he rose a brow and placed her down, giving her an uncharacteristic shy look “Do i look alright?....tried something new since ill be taking you out” He asked as she kissed his cheek, giving him a content smile “I love it. You still have that edge I fell in love with laced through and through” [ ] said as Sukuna felt his heart jump, a warmth creeping up his neck and face as he kissed her face, taking her hand “Well then...i'm very thankful with a woman like you in my life...thank you [ ]..you ready to go?” Sukuna softly asked as he outstretched a hand to her, making [ ] playfully laugh. Taking her ringed at tattooed lovers hand the duo set off, starting their first Valentines Day together.

Once night rolled around most had been finished [ ] and Sukuna found themselves on a hilltop, overlooking a city as they ate a snack basket that Sukuna prepared. Not only was he a tattooist but he could cook, and cook very well. “If I didn't have the urge to tattoo every square inch of my body with art maybe i'd be a cook” He laughed as she constantly complimented his cooking, laying her head on his shoulders. “This is wonderful Sukuna..ive really enjoyed today” [ ] said as he gave her a look before peering back at the city “I know how much you hated today so...I wanted to do something for you to love it” Sukuna said as she moved up, looking in his warm eyes as he reached out of his pocket, his phone showing their first accidental mirror picture they took together evident as his lockscreen. As he pulled the next thing to it, a shiny ring filed with her birthstone “This is for you, a promise to you” Tilting her head she took the beautiful ring and placed it on her finger, watching it glisten in the moonlight “A promise for what?” she asked “Ill never leave you, and one day...maybe...we could make that promise permanent” He said as he took her hand in his , pulling her in his lap as he sealed that promise with a kiss.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #tattoo artist sukuna!#f!reader #jjk au #ryomen sukuna x reader #circus dome collab!#the circus dome collab

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

Note

Can I get rick grimes x gender neutral reader

The reader was an elite solider in the U.S army when the virus happened. They been traveling the South for five ½ years alone. So now they landed in Georgia when the Saviors and Rick Group are at war. One day Rick is attacked by the Saviors, but the reader saves Rick from the Saviors with a rifle but escapes before Rick ever notices. Days later the reader meets Rick (like how Jesus met Rick.) But Rick captures the reader and interrogates him. In the end Reader reveals how he saved Rick. Rick then forces the reader work/live with the group even though the real.

A Soldier ~ Rick Grimes imagine

hey sorry for the delay ive been super busy coz i just started school back after isolating and i’ve been doing exams all week

also for anyone else who requested i’ll try and complete them soon really sorry please remember i haven’t forgotten about yall i’m just busy

anyways @iawaythrown hope you like this thank you for requesting

let me know if there’s any mistakes so i can fix it thank you x

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

The sun had set hours earlier but that didn’t stop you. Unrelenting you continued through the heat and the exhaustion. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after everything you had gone through. Even before this, you wouldn’t allow yourself to stop. Being one of America’s pride and joys serving as a respected sergeant. You had served 10 years before the world went to shit and it made you laugh now. You always thought that the meaning of your life - the purpose - was to protect and serve against threats to the U.S.A. If only you knew that your greatest threat was against the dead now living. You were grateful, more than anything. You had a lot more in this world than others did. And now 5 1/2 years later you were still going. Never stopping. Not for anything.

Except... when you caught wind of a certain curly-haired man. He was being attacked and was substantially outmanned. You thought the best use of your time was to protect people just like you had in your previous life. The man was cornered now by the time you’d made the decision to help him. Three men dressed in leather charged him with any weapon they could find. He fought against them - to the best of his ability. Which seemed to be skilled at least. You gripped your trusty rifle, aimed the scope and without hesitation fired.

One man fell.

Then the next.

And then the last.

The blue-eyed man scoured the area for you, curious about the location of the shots. You, however, were smarter than that. You didn’t know this man. You didn’t know if he deserved what those men would’ve done to him but you did know trust is to be earned in this world not given carelessly. You ducked away out of his vision. But you never strayed far from the man.

You could say curiosity got the better of you. Naturally and from a very young age, you’d always pester, investigate, fight for answers when they really weren’t warranted. Your mom used to tell you how curiosity killed the cat but you preferred to say it saved the cat. Being curious never hurt anyone and it certainly came as an advantage to you. When meeting people you knew how to hide, how to watch. And yes it may be creepy but it was necessary. You weren’t stupid, far from it, so why stop your ways now?

The man didn’t return back to a camp after the attack - one that you knew he had due to his clean and well-presented appearance. He continued through the area, meeting up with a tall brooding man accompanied with a crossbow. The two seemed close. Although despite how few words conversed between them, you knew they were. If either of them fell into some trouble the other protected. They were family - maybe not blood - but no doubt in your mind we’re they like brothers.

It had been days now and these men were still on their run. By this time you were even doubting if this was worth it but you shook off the thoughts and continued. It wasn’t your intention to draw attention to yourself. Hell, it was something you were taught against. But it happened. You, rather carelessly, stumbled across them. It all happened so fast. You saw someone in the woods - walker maybe. But at that moment you decided against your inner workings and ran. Stupidly you ran straight into this man.

“Watch it,” He growled pushing you back slightly. They glared at you threateningly, guns were drawn.

“Wha’ ta hell ya doin’?” The crossbowman snapped. His deep southern accent growing darker through his words. He was on edge. It being clear that interactions like this hadn’t always been a blessing.

“Was just passing through. Calm yourself, alrigh’?”

Unimpressed he looked to the blue-eyed man who was fixed on your stance. “You looked in a hurry. Trouble heading this way?” The man inquired warily.

“Nah not really,” You paused looking back to the area, “Well maybe I'm not sure.”

“Not sure? What's back there?” He looked at you suspiciously hand still grasped around his colt python. You didn't say anything to them as a sound overcame the atmosphere. It sounded like a twig, perhaps just a wondering dead but they didn't see the rational side. "Who are you? Who are you with?" The blue-eyed man barked edging the pistol closer to your face.

"Hey, chill man. My names y/n, alright? And I'm not with anyone. I'm on my own, okay?" The men shared a look before turning back to you unbelievingly. You opened your mouth to justify your case but was interrupted by a smack to the side of your head. You fell to the ground, gazing at the two men still.

And then... nothing.

Hours later your eyes snapped open. Alert, you searched through the room. It was a cell. A traditional one with an iron gate. One you knew from past experience weren't the easiest to break out of. Especially after spotting a man floating around the exit. "Hello?" Your head burned as you spoke likely due to a concussion but you powered through it. The man stopped pacing and glared at you. He was a dark-skinned man, holding what looked like a stick. But the main thing was that he was clean. You had noticed earlier how the two men didn't look as ragged and dirty as you did. Telling you they had a home. Now seeing him proved it.

"Hello," He said back, "Names Morgan, yours?" Your rational side shut your mouth for you. You didn't know these people. Hell, they kidnapped you. They didn't deserve your name. And you resented how you caved earlier and told those people. "Not much of a speaker, huh?" Again silence, "You didn't have to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you."

Begrudgingly you responded, "I'm not afraid of you." "Your not?" "No, I'm not. Not of you. Not of those men who brought me here. Not of anyone," Morgan almost laughed at your response.

"You're quite brave, aren’t you?" You shrugged etching a smile on his face, "you'll fit right in here."

"Who says I want to stay?" You countered. "I have a feeling," He smirked before another person entered the room.

"They awake?" Morgan nodded and exited.

The blue-eyed man from earlier entered your view. No words were exchanged between the two of you. You understood he still perceived you as a threat, which you knew you very well could be. You'd do what you have to. That's what you told yourself. After years of service to the army that swam around your mind like a mantra. You'd done some horrific things for your country now and before but you didn't let it rot you to the core like your comrades. You did what you had to. There was never an exception. So if these people decided to try something you'd do what you have to.

"Who are you?" He interrogated swiftly. Telling you that this wasn't his first rodeo. He was a cop or maybe even in the army like you.

"I already told you," Coldly you returned.

"Yeah well, I don't believe you," He persisted.

"I don't entirely know what you want me to do with that," you scoffed, "I can't force you to believe me. But I know my name. I know I'm alone. I know I don't mean to bring harm to your people unless I have to."

The man grunted. He hated how he began to believe you slightly. "Why were you running then?"

You sighed, "I was following you."

"You were following us?" He growled, "Why?"

"You were attacked. Those men I killed them," You revealed, "I was curious. So I followed you. I saw a walker or maybe it was a person... I don't know. I ran and bumped into you. That's all. I have no ulterior motive."

"Just because you tell me you have no ulterior motive doesn't make me inclined to believe you," He let out a harsh breath.

"What more do you want, huh? Want me to do a polygraph?"

He chuckled, "No. Of course not. But I don't trust you."

"So let me go," You promoted.

"I can't do that," he shook his head erratically.

"Why not?"

"You're valuable. If what you say is true that you did save me. Then I... we can't let that go, alright?"

You gaped at his confession, "So you're gonna force me to stay here?"

"Not exactly... we'd prefer if you did from your own will but if we have to," He quirked his eyebrow at you, "What do you say?"

Sarcastically you laughed at his proposition, "You're crazy."

"No, I'm Rick. Rick Grimes. And this," Rick gestured to your surroundings, "is Alexandria. Hopefully your new home."

"How do you know I'm not gonna kill you all in your sleep?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his naivety.

"I have faith that you won't. I searched you when you were out," He went into his pocket pulling out a medal you had gotten for serving in Iraq, "A soldier? I was a sheriffs deputy myself and I know I wouldn't have it in me to kill all the people in here - the children. I know you wouldn't either."

"You're right I wouldn't but... but we're not the same, Rick. We never will be," Rick tilted his head.

"I know," He spoke honestly, "But I feel like we're similar. You'd do a lot to save someone you'd never met. That's someone we'd like in Alexandria. Y/n you saved me. And I know you can save a lot more. So what do you say?"

You sighed moving closer to the cell door, "Okay."

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x gender neutral reader #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes twd #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead request #the walking dead x reader

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: iv

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 5 ||

word count: 7.7k

sucks when things go south, huh.

warnings: description of bodily injury, blood, mild? gore (it’s just describing injury), description of overstimulation, capital h and c hurt/comfort

------

chapter 4 :’^) thank u for all of the love so far. i appreciate. every. single. one of. u. bottom of my lil rat heart.

this chapter was nearly split, but giving y’all a cliffhanger seemed mean

this the turning point and set up for the rest of the story so buckle up and enjoy ;^)

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Things between you and Hawks didn’t change too much, not externally anyways. Both of you still continued to indulge your feelings, even if you desperately tried to ignore them.

You continued to honestly spoil Hawks in lavish drinks of many sensations. Truthfully, you loved nothing more than seeing his face as he sipped at your new creations, watching the curiosity and pleasure spread over his features made your heart soar in your chest.

And Keigo continued to bask in your company. The drinks were always amazing, but the chatter and discourse between the two of you was what he loved most. Or, maybe it was his learning of you through watching your small gestures and cues. His analytical, interpersonal skills were, for once, being put to a use that didn’t involve espionage or deception.

It felt cleansing.

Despite these quietly greedy interactions, there was a great deal of repression between the two of you. Aimless flirting aside, squishing any growing feelings caused you both a great deal of strain. It worked, avoidance, for a while anyway. It wasn’t without consequences, but they wouldn’t get nasty until later.

One of the most apparent tolls was Keigo’s physical state. Having to actively ignore and quash his feelings for you caused such a deep amount of emotional turmoil. It made him ache all over. This was in addition to an asinine amount of extra hours he was spending staking out the villain syndicate that was indeed in the neighborhood of the tea shop.

(He wouldn’t admit it, but he was being overly diligent in scouting out the organization's doings. They were very close to you and your home, and the thought of you getting caught up in anything to do with his profession fucked him up on-premise alone.)

The combination of both physical and mental exertion made him messier than ever. It physically clouded him a lot of the time. Exhaustion had well and truly seized nipping at his ankles and proceeded to fully rip a chunk from his skull.

Keigo had yet another long day, dawn until at least midnight, no matter his aching body.

He’d be listening in on out some sort of meeting between the villain syndicate and one of its allies, some more reclusive group of villains from the far-off mountains. Neither organization was particularly noteworthy, but they did have some nasty criminal connection that needed to be monitored. That meant a late night for Keigo and an even greater need for caffeine.

He paid you a visit in the early morning.

The moment Hawks came through the door, you lit up, beaming from behind the counter.

The shop was empty, just having opened a few minutes before he appeared. The only sounds were the hum coffee machines, quiet music, and the tapping of your own tinkerings. Normally, there’d be more bustle, but you were alone in the din of the shop.

“Hey, angel,” He flashed you a winning smile, sliding down into his usual stool and propping his elbows on the counter. “Where’s the calvary?”

“Oh, the other openers?” You jerked your thumb to the door. “Running late. They all stayed up late working on a project for school, so I took one for the team and am manning the ship alone for this first bit.”

You sighed, looking quite tired yourself.

There was mutual recognition of your twin state, though it wasn’t verbally regarded in any way.

Hawks was far better at hiding his poor health from you, but that didn’t stop you from seeing the pinholes in his facade. You’d gotten better at it with time.

“What can I get you today, Hawks? Inspire me.” You set the glass on the counter between the two of you, gesturing to the expanse of the coffeeshop. “It’s just you and me today, so I can go all out.”

“You don’t already?” Hawks chuckled, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“I try,” You shrugged. “I really do my best work for you, whether you’re a glorified guinea pig or not. Gotta serve up the best for my best customer.”

On any normal, Hawks would’ve bantered right back at you, keeping you on your toes with quick words and wit.

That day?

He just laughed, something weirdly neutral, almost off-putting because you knew it was manufactured.

You opened your mouth, brows furrowing. You wanted nothing more than to ask ‘hey, are you alright?’.

But, that would’ve broken some of your own, mentally-imposed boundaries. It hurt, to just laugh with him, but it was all you would let yourself do.

“So,” You broke the air with words as opposed to giggles. “What would you like?”

Hawks hummed, “Surprise me.”

“... Like, fully?”

Hawks nodded, slowly.

Keigo, in a movement of full vulnerability, (he told himself it would just be for a few minutes), laid his head on his folded arms, “Go wild, angel. I trust you. Make me anything you’re feeling. Wing it, no pun intended.”

You blinked at him, nodding. His sudden, almost submissive action surprised you. Something in you ached, seeing him so worn down.

You channeled this feeling into a desire to make him top-tier drink.

Reaching into your apron, you fished out your idea notebook. Many had been crossed off over the many weeks (months now?) that Hawks had been visiting the tea shop. You fairly consistently wrote down new ones, so there were always options, but on that day, none appealed to you.

Your gaze flickered back to Hawks, watching the soft movements of his breath through the tight fabric of the back of his shirt.

You needed to make it extra good, help shake Hawks from his stupor.

You’re gonna wing it.

You’ll make a feel-good drink.

It was your only self-imposed criteria.

You hadn’t ever made Hawks a drink without a concept and feeling beforehand, so the concept of not having one seemed novel.

You activated your quirk and began.

“How’s your day been?” Hawks called from behind you, words muffled.

Keigo still didn’t look at you; resting on his arms allowed him a little bit of a reprieve before his grueling day. He’d take it. Hearing your voice would make it that much better.

You described your day with a decent amount of detail for how much it hadn’t gotten started yet. Hamming up the detail meant more time for you to craft the drink. Your mind spun, grasping onto pre-existing, mental abstracts in your oddly calm headspace to create something tangible.

Though your quirk was activated, you weren’t really identifying a feeling specifically, rather just letting your quirk draw from whatever material you had laying around in your brainscape at 6 AM on a weekday morning.

You pulled as many espresso shots as Hawks usually liked (maximum, five, you refused to give him more than that in a single drink), pouring them into some steamed oatmilk and several other ingredients you had mixed into a cup. You tapped some cinnamon on top of the foam, polishing everything off with a dash of sweet cream.

Carefully, you set it between the two of you. Hawks hadn’t spoken since you had begun to make the drink, so oddly silent.

It almost made your skin itch, his lack of response. You reminded yourself with quick glances that Hawks was very obviously out of it and exhausted. You were sure that without the concealer he wore under his eyes (a secret he revealed to only you), he’d have purple circles punched from how overworked he was.

You hoped your drink would be enough to brighten up his day.

You bit your lip as Hawks raised his head, blonde waves more unruly than normal. A small, lopsided smile stretched across his face as he sat up, grabbing the drink and bringing it closer. He had learned long ago to allow them to cool.

“Sorry for not being as peppy as I normally am!” It was almost imperceptible, the off-kilter tone in his voice.

You caught it but said nothing.

He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. “Been running on empty it seems, angel.”

“Then take some fuel, bird boy.” You nodded to the foamy drink. “When are you supposed to be done today?”

“Late, like late. Early morning, probably.” Hawks sighed, taking a sip.

...

As the liquid coated his mouth, Keigo’s mind seized.

What.

What the fuck.

Any and all thoughts he had disappeared. They were incinerated from his mind by the drink’s heat.

A sun-scorching sensation like he’d never even known tore through his body.

It was so different from the other ‘warm’-toned drinks you’d made him in the past. The flavor and feeling filling him up was nothing like the hearth-like drinks you had made prior. You had treated him to plenty of beverages that felt akin to open flame, warm blankets, a cat purring over your chest, a candle on a cold night—

But, nothing even close to this.

This was such a strong feeling that if he was a less trained man, his eyes would’ve rolled back in his head. If he’d been standing, he was sure his legs would’ve been visibly shaking, probably given out.

Sure, the feeling was abstract, not as concrete as your other drinks but it was ineffably strong.

It felt like the flutter you caused in his stomach, but somehow all over and inside of him.

It was the heat in his cheeks when he saw you, but reaching from his toes to the skin of his scalp.

It was the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him, now forcing his hands to twitch around the cup.

The consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning.

It was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. But, it was also soft, colored with the earnestness that he admired about you so much—

Oh.

It clicked as the sensation stirred in his stomach, fluttering to a point of near nausea.

It was you.

The moment he realized it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, as you had made the drink, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming.

His mind stalled as he took it all in, taking another sip.

The feeling washed over him again, equally as wonderfully crushing.

“Soooo,” You drawled, setting a jar next to you on the counter, beaming him a smile. “What do you think? Gimme your judgment, bird boy.”

Keigo struggled to keep his face neutral as he quickly searched yours.

Even in his state, it was clear that there was no deception or riddle laced into the creaminess of the drink. The expectancy in your face was derived from admiration, not waiting for the punchline of an unfinished joke.

“It’s warm! Like, in your stomach.” Hawks looked down before taking another sip, the even smile on his face not wavering for even a moment. “What is it?”

“It’s a miel,” You tapped the jar next to you, pointing at the amber goo inside. “This is some wildflower honey from the owner’s sister’s farm, right outside the city. We have a bunch of extra stuff, so there’s no better time to make a honey-based drink.”

Hawks eyed the steam, “What goes into a ‘miel’?”

Watching Hawks’ shoulder go slack with the next chug he took, you hummed, “It’s a latte, so espresso and milk, then it has the honey in it which is what makes it a ‘miel’. Topped it with some special sweet cream, a bit of cinnamon. My extra touches in it as well, just based on my quirk.”

Hawks met your gaze, his eyes softening with what you could’ve sworn was desperation, but was quickly swallowed up but stoicism, “And what was this drink’s inspiration?”

You laughed, shoving your hands in your apron from the typical anxiety, though the feeling itself was somewhat normal and thereby dulled, “It didn’t have one! I just winged it, like you said. My quirk was activated though, so it was just sort of the concept of what I was perceiving and feeling, I suppose.”

There was a pause as you waited for Hawks to speak.

He didn’t.

Keigo stared down at the drink, then you.

Holy fuck.

This was ambient?

The sensation that made his toes curl and every part of him yearn to reach out to touch you and give all of himself to you—

It was unintentional?

The feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at the teashop. It was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything.

And here you were, unknowingly returning it to him.

You hadn’t intended it to be shared and you had no idea you even did.

Keigo was one of the most perceptive people on the planet— he knew that many of the feelings between the two of you were mutual. As much flirting as there was, a lot of it was real from both of you.

He just didn't think it ran this far deep.

(Mutually.)

“What... What do you think it tastes like?” You asked, that nasty rot in your gut rearing itself as Hawk’s lack of response ate at you. You turned fully to him, actually taking him in.

Keigo did what he was so skilled at doing—

Lying.

Hawks waved his hands in front of him like he was trying to put out small flames, “Nothing bad! Promise, it’s really good! It tastes like how the coffee shop feels. Warm, comfortable. It makes sense that your quirk would reflect that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, good. I’m glad it's good.”

“Very good. I might have to put miels on my list of favorite drinks you’ve made me,” Hawks gave you a relaxed grin, standing and passing a wad of cash to you.

You didn’t expect him to be leaving so quickly, but he did say he was busy.

“Oh, hey, Hawks?” He perked up when you said his name, blinking at you. “I’ve got a project I’m working that I’m doing for the owner, so I’ll be here late. If you’re around, you’re welcome to come by after close if you want another drink? For your long night.”

Hawks softened for you like he so often had come to do. He fluffed up the collar of his jacket, wings ruffling up behind him, “I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ll have some ideas for you then too, how about that?”

“Sounds lovely,” Your voice was like the honey of the drink, warm, sweet, and vibrant. “I’ll see you then, Hawks.”

“See you then, angel,” Hawks practically glowed as he walked from the door, the chime of the bell sounding with his exit. “I’ll text you when I’m close!”

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Over the course of the day, an odd feeling grew in the pitch of your stomach. You did your best to ignore it.

You alternated between serving customers and working on the ‘project’ the owner had saddled you with. Making centerpieces for his sister’s bridal shower was not something you should’ve been doing on company time, but they were giving you a handsome sum of cash under the table for it.

You couldn’t complain too much, other than that it was laborious. Masons jars stuffed with wired lights and frosted glasses, tied with twine and ribbons were all to be prettily arranged by your hand.

During the middle of the day, you went back home, spending your time between shifts catching up on sleep and making some decent food.

The odd gnawing only grew in your stomach.

Keigo’s long day was wearing on, though somewhat uneventfully. Most of his patrolling time was the effortless thwarting of petty crime and easy rescuing.

He even had the time to go back to his agency and snoop.

Because, for how lame his day was, the drink you made him (which he had greedily chugged all of shortly upon leaving the tea shop) caused him to think particularly hard about your quirk.

(As opposed to the asphyxiating awareness of your shared feelings.)

He didn’t get it.

You’d managed to perfectly create a drink that communicated complex feelings. You’d told him in the past that it could be used for any sort of feeling as well, but you were so vague beyond that. You were abstract in the same way you quirk was.

So, he decided to abuse his power a little.

He decided to actually take a lunch at the agency, munching on takeout while clicking through the HPSC’s databases.

Civilian quirks, especially those that had never attempted to pursue any sort of career with them, weren’t documented incredibly well. Maybe a few details that were used in public research projects, but not much beyond that. He had hoped he could dig and find something that would assuage his curiosity and confusion.

He tapped your name into the HPSC’s hero-accessible database, scrolling and pulling up your file.

There was a picture of you, one from an ID that must’ve been a few years old. There were personal details Keigo wasn’t all that interested in, though it was neat to finally know your birthday.

He clicked on the tab for your quirk.

Quirk: Synesthetic Manifestation

Description: Allows the user to materially manifest abstract, synesthetically-created feelings into reality.

This quirk does not allow the user to alter reality, only tangibly create abstracts through the means at their disposal.

Drawback: This quirk causes severe synesthetic overstimulation and appears to be activated unintentionally in instances that expose them to high amounts of stimuli.

Quirk potential:

Keigo knew the concept of ‘quirk potential’ well. Most of the time, this portion on files was only filled out if the individual had ever trained to use their quirk in a profession.

Oddly, your’s contained a few details.

The user showed high potential in initial assessments, but due to the nature of the quirk, its drawbacks, and its recorded usage, this user’s quirk is now classified as lowest potential.

Keigo frowned.

All this just made him more confused.

The file didn’t get into much more detail than you did. The only thing that was new information to him was that at some point you had tried to use your quirk in a training setting and that somehow got you demoted from high potential to lowest potential.

Keigo’s own quirk in the database was regarded as highest potential; you, at some point, were only a step down from him. Something knocked you down from pursuing quirk-based work, and based on your current employment at the tea shop, you never got up. Keigo figured it was the intricacies of your quirk that he didn’t fully understand.

He’d have to be a bit more careful getting any more information out of you, considering how much you disliked talking about it.

Keigo continued to stew, finishing off his lunch while thoughts of you and your feelings danced across his mind.

Though it was clear his adoration was obviously returned, it was much easier for him to muse over the nature of your quirk than the way he wanted to pull you over the teashop’s counter and kiss you breathless.

You went back to work, a few chalky tablets of stomachache medicine in your tummy. They were all you could do to try and quell the twisting in your gut.

By the time you arrived back to start your ‘night shift’, it was late evening, the sun already having fallen into the horizon.

Most of your time prior to closing was spent in the front, helping make drinks and clean up as you could. Part of you was actually excited to throw on some good music and grind after the tea shop was shut down for the night.

Also, seeing Hawks twice in the same day? Absolutely fantastic.

You wanted to try and make him a knockout drink, to make up for the lackluster one you’d prepared him earlier. Seeing his eyes get all gooey with happiness would more than push you through your night of work.

Your phone chimed a bit before close.

[birdboy]: hey ;^) mind if I come by in like a half an hour?

[you]: yeah!! just call me and i’ll unlock the door for you

Your closing coworkers giggled at you. They all knew that that big smile stretched across your face meant you were texting Hawks. You used to get a bit shy about it, but now you just gave them shit. He was your friend, right?

[birdboy]: what if i like, hit the glass, like fly into it like birds do into windows

[you]: okay one- no, that would definitely shatter the windows and idk if i wanna deal with that AND you tonight ;^)

[you]: and TWO- are you speaking. from experience. about hitting windows.

[birdboy]: please dont @ me like this

You snorted.

[birdboy]: i had to pay off a tabloid who got it on camera bc it would ruin my brand

[you]: do u still have those photos

[birdboy]: ... maybe

[you]: hawks

[you]: gimme

[birdboy]: idk if i can my publicist will kill me

[you]: u hear what i hear?? a coward

[you]: how does ‘your brand’ feel about that

[birdboy]: ...

[birdboy]: gimme one of those honey sticks u have at the register and the pics are yours once i get there ;^)))

[you]: DEAL!!!

You pocketed your phone in your apron, unable to stop the almost ridiculous smile that you wore.

Hawks made you uncomfortably happy. You knew that he didn’t feel the same, but he was still there. Even if you were just entertainment to him, you were happy to perform on any stage he was watching.

As closing crept up, you shooed your other coworkers off. Most of the closing tasks were done, they could leave a few minutes early.

As they began to pack up, chatting about some party that night, your insides twisted.

You squeezed the counter, rubbing your forehead while wishing your coworkers a good evening.

Weird.

It was about then that things went to shit for both you and Hawks.

Keigo’s was supposed to be in for a hellishly long shift of surveillance based on the intel he’d received about the syndicate and its impending meeting.

Apparently, that meeting was happening earlier, rather than later.

The chaos started quickly, the meetup going from a strategic talk to an all-out fight between two groups.

It spilled into the nearby streets, both sides unabashed in their destruction.

Perhaps, if Keigo had been faster (what a tall order, for the fastest man in all of Japan), things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.

But quickly, things erupted and the streets dissolved in mayhem as he dove and sent feathers flying.

You stood by the front entrance, waiting for Hawks, idly sweeping. The cleaning tasks were almost done, the world outside was dark with the late evening.

You froze when the ground beneath your feet rumbled with revving engines, the air splitting with the sound of car horns and alarms.

Everything that happened next moved so quickly, it was difficult to follow.

Windows began to shatter all across the street, near and far.

They cracked, spraying glass as a figure cloaked in black flew down the asphalt outside. A red barrage followed after it, nearly subduing it as it raced past the tea shop.

The massive glass panels at the front of the tea shop filled with frosty lines, just feet in front of you.

It clicked for you a few moments too late.

Adrenaline shot through you, but it wasn’t enough.

...

You weren’t Hawks, you weren’t fast enough to outrun much of anything, let alone quirk-shattered glass.

You were just barely able to turn around before the spray of shards reached you.

You would later be incredibly thankful that you wore denim jeans and a wool sweater that day. Without the thick fabrics, you were sure that you would’ve been shredded. The problem was your low-top shoes and thin socks.

Just as you turned, searing pain shot from the back of your left ankle. You urged yourself to forget the specifics, flesh-tearing, mind beginning to buzz.

You just had to keep moving.

Except, you couldn’t. Your left leg gave out with your next step.

You shrieked as you fell to the floor, barely catching yourself. Your palms smacked against the ground, pieces of sharpened glass driving into the flesh.

You couldn’t help screaming, your voice mingling with the sound of alarms, cries for help, and the war cries of a nearby fight.

Oh.

You were in the middle of a fairly nasty villain attack.

...

So much for giving Hawks a better drink.

The mental joke seemed macabre, especially in your state.

You willed with all of your might, for your quirk to not activate. Overstimulation was just inches away from your current state, the sounds outside the teashop boring through your skull like diamond drill bits.

The pain that was radiating from your left leg was nearly unbearable, but you knew that getting out of the front room was imperative.

How you managed to keep your injured leg straight, you’ll never know.

You locked your jaw and pulled yourself along the floor, hoping that Hawks had this all under control. More people were bound to be hurt by the same sort of attack you got caught in, right? How many more folks had been sliced up like you? Worse than you?

Keigo wasn’t having much trouble subduing the villains. They, of course, had no idea that he had been watching the syndicate for three-odd months. He knew their quirks, their tactics, their escape routes, everything. What he didn’t know as well was the other group’s specifics.

From what he had understood before the fight, the two had somewhat friendly relations. Still, Keigo mentally kicked himself for not being more diligent in his gathering of intel.

His mistakes aside, the much more pressing issue was the two-kilometer stretch of shops that were now collateral damage in what was essentially a mobile mob war.

This damage included the tea shop.

When he’d flown past the shop, he’d only caught a glimpse of your face through the glass before it shattered.

You’d looked terrified.

Every part of him wanted to stop, dead in the air, rush in, and make sure you were okay, but he had to at least get things under control until more heroes showed up. Then, he’d be able to get to you.

By the time Keigo subdued several villains of either group, more Pros had arrived on the scene. He sped off to the teashop far too quickly when he saw others gathering. It was an ill-advised move, but he was clouded by a different set of instincts than those cultivated in his hero training.

The flight did allow him to fully take in the damage of the district, though.

It was about as bad as it could be.

Whatever the villain’s quirk was must’ve shattered glass within a certain radius from his body, Keigo observed.

Thankfully, the villain’s quirk didn’t appear to affect anything past two stories of height, sparing all above it. Those panes and pieces that did shatter had sprayed businesses, restaurants, shops, and the street with shards of glass. Not to mention that they flew at the speed of projectiles.

(At the full-minded revelation that there was no way you weren’t hurt, Keigo felt his stomach flip and eyes burn.)

Keigo shuddered to think how bad the damage would’ve been if the encounter happened during broad daylight.

Keigo curled in his wings, dropping onto the floor at the front of the teashop through the broken window.

He kept his expression somewhat neutral, though the scene before him tore at his heart in a way he wasn’t expecting.

The tea shop was destroyed.

The pretty, warm lighting fixtures had shattered, fine filaments exposed, and a few sparking. The glass jars on your wall of tea blends were broken, spilling leaves and dried herbs across the back counter. That wasn’t even to mention the layer of shards from all of the glassware stored around the coffee machines.

Seeing the destruction of one of the only places he had ever found real comfort in was awful, and it tore something hidden and vulnerable in his heart.

But far, far worse was the absolute horror that bloomed in his chest when he saw the sizeable spot of blood in the middle of the floor, smearing to the back doorway.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted, ignoring any stealthy elements and hurriedly following the trail.

“B-back here,” Oh, your voice was so weak.

Keigo couldn’t make himself move fast enough.

You’d managed to get yourself to the back, biting your lip so hard you were scared you’d break the skin. Part of you was lucid enough to know that making too much noise could be bad. Then again, the shop was supposed to be closed. Did anyone even know that you were there?

Hawks did.

You gripped at one of the edges of the stainless steel countertops, using all the strength you could muster to pull yourself upright. As careful as you were not to jostle your injured leg (that you still hadn’t looked at properly because you were terrified), the moment you bent it, you had to suppress a scream, turning it into a slow, nasty exhale. You let yourself sink to the floor again.

Something was seriously fucked up.

Then Hawks called your name.

You were sprawled out on the floor, injured leg awkwardly turned and extended to prevent the pain from being made worse.

The moment he saw you from the doorway, the remnants of his wings flapped, practically throwing him to the ground next to you.

The moment you saw him enter the back room, any and all fronts you had put on for yourself fell apart.

“H-Hawks,” You hated how small your voice sounded as you pushed yourself closer to him.

The details of him, how ruffled his remaining feathers were, how wide and scared his eyes were, how different he looked from the times you’d seen him on the news confidently saving the day, were lost on you.

Though, Keigo noticed your poor state easily. It was more obvious.

He scanned your form with the trained precision he was known for. He took in the shattered piece of glass sticking from your leg, bleeding lightly. Your palms weren’t bloody, but they were dotted with shards of glass.

He also noticed your panicked shaking and your unnaturally dilated pupils, beyond anything he’d seen while you’d made drinks for him.

“Is your quirk active?” Keigo asked, pulling off his gloves and grabbing one of your wrists. He turned your palm, using two of his smallest feathers like tweezers to pick at the shards pieces of glass.

“Y-yeah,” You replied, using the back of your other hand to wipe at your eyes. “It does this when I’m under extreme stress. I can’t turn it off.”

Keigo managed to laugh, relieved that the cuts in your hands weren’t that severe, “You just focus on me, okay, angel? That’s all you gotta do.”

You nod, trying to hold your overstimulated mind back. It’s fruitless, truly, because the moment Hawks reminds you that he is, in fact, there, and that you are safe, you quirk-addled mind spasms.

The awful mix of sensations whirled in your skull as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead into Hawks’ shoulder. In other circumstances, it would be a romantic gesture. But, the only purpose you had in the contact was hoping, praying, that the heat of his body would distract you from the swirling of sensations you couldn’t stop.

In that mental soup, within the fear, intense pain, and loss, oddly enough, was the unignorable, pleasant feeling of being so close to him. It made your heart squeeze. But, it was a single spice of sensation in a foul-tasting stew though, and it was hard to isolate the good in the muck of your mind.

You shook against him as sounds and pain blended inside your skull, thoughts becoming murkier and harder to understand.

Keigo finished tweezing your other hand, that one worse off, and wrapping it in some gauze he had stuffed in his jacket.

His mind screamed for him to wrap you in his arms, to pull you close and keep you safe. It was all he could fathom doing, just nearly moving to do so—

That was until the popping rumble of a nearby explosion interrupted his thoughts.

You jumped against him, muffling a scream in his shoulder.

His heart ached.

“(Y/N), I know this is all scary,” Hawks’s voice came through your sensational slurry. “But, I need to be back out there right now.”

“No.” Your mouth spewed with no discernable thoughts behind it. “Don’t leave. Please, don’t. Please.”

You caught Hawks’ wince, but barely.

He was already repositioning you, scooting you under one of the countertops, “Angel, I’m sorry. I need to go, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

Your eyes screwed shut, vibrating in your skull as pulling your uninjured leg to your chest.

Hawks looked equally as torn up about having to leave, brows creased with his lip worried between his teeth.

Despite how messy your brain felt, you knew that you were beyond defenseless. Even if your mind could easily conjure up an infinite number of ways to bring a person non-lethal (and lethal) pain, you were turning to mush mentally and you had glass sticking out of your leg. You had no fucking way to create it with your body.

Your back hit the wall under the counter and you managed to wrench your eyes open, taking in Hawks and his visage while you spun.

He looked so sad.

The feeling of mourning and fear spat so hotly in your mind, it was like you’d been intangibly burned by his expression.

You choked on your own stored tears, reaching out for him.

He caught one of your hands, the wrapped one, and squeezed it lightly.

Even with so few feathers left, Hawks plucked one, about the size of your forearm. He replaced his hand with the plumage.

“(Y/N), I will be back. I promise,” Hawks (so weakly) smiled, trying to reassure you. “You snap that feather if anything changes, okay? If anyone comes into the shop who isn’t another pro, or if you start to feel faint. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” You gritted out, somehow laughing. Your vocal cords rubbing together sends a wave of agony up the back of your neck, burying behind your eyes. You press your forehead in your bent knee.

With one last, fleeting look, eyeing your wound and remembering slate-colored eyes, Keigo took flight into the fray once more.

Keigo hated leaving you. He hated it so fucking much. It burned him, felt wrong in every way. You were so vulnerable in your state. Both of you knew that without him there, you were entirely exposed and fairly defenseless.

It perked up that protective instinct he’d repeatedly had towards you for months. It was probably something related to his avian mutation, but it was just blood-boiling need to keep you safe.

Yet, he just left you, wounded and mentally spiraling, in the middle of a destroyed building.

If he wasn’t trained so well, he would have acted differently. But, it had been burned into him time and time again what his needs were in disaster situations.

Neutralize, stabilize, clear out.

Through his exhaustion, he fought and soared with all he had, fatigue forgotten and replaced by hot cortisol. He forced himself faster, zipping down alleyways and across rooftops at some of his top speeds.

While Keigo tracked down all of the villains (he managed to miss the first time), he trusted that the other Pros could deal with the heavy collateral damage. He was number two, he could catch some organized criminals.

Beyond his training, Keigo had an even bigger motivation.

He could feel you.

The feather he left with you must’ve been pressed right up to your chest, maybe under your neck with the way Keigo could so intensely feel your breath and heartbeat. He could sense it gradually speeding up to the point of what had to be panic. If Keigo focused, he could make out your terror-stricken babbling.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This is fine.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Hawks is okay.”

“He’ll come back.”

“He won’t leave.”

...

“Everything's gonna be okay.”

With that last one, your words gave out and it turned in gasping breaths.

Keigo worked himself harder, striking down the last of villains with absolute precision, all distractions forgotten in the most pivotal moments of combat.

The instant the villains were in custody, restrained, he was flying back towards the tea shop.

You don’t remember any of this well. Your mind was liquified, your body throbbing in pain.

It had been an incredibly long time, years since you’d been in any situation resembling a villain attack. There was no way to stop the synesthetic storm that was choking your mind. Every sensation was magnified, mixed with another, and shoved down your throat without any ability to change it.

A few minutes after Hawks left, giving you time to stew and roll, you spiraled more harshly.

When you realized how pitifully helpless you were, you fell away, pressing your wet face into the Hawks’s feather. Your vision muddled between black and red.

You felt the cold of the blood wetting your pant leg.

Your wound is bad.

You hadn’t fully looked at it in awhile.

Opening your eyes, you suppressed a wave of nausea at the small puddle of blood growing under the bottom half of your useless leg.

The way the denim of your jeans stuck to your skin mixed with the smell heady smell of blood made you gag.

You couldn’t keep it up anymore.

Letting your eyes shut, you sank down to the floor, cheek pressed into the dirty cement.

You don’t know how long you idled, drowning in your mind’s colors and vibrantly violent sensations.

You were only half-conscious when the feather pressed to your neck twitches.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted as he landed in the teashop, flying straight to the backroom, bypassing the mess of broken glass.

His breath caught, seeing you slumped over.

“Fuck,” Keigo couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice as he noticed how much blood had pooled beneath your injured ankle. “Hey, hey, (Y/N)—”

He sure fucking sucked at admitting his faults, and recognizing the severity of wounds was indeed one of them. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to deal with casualties so closely.

Keigo threw off his gloves, tossing them behind him without looking.

“‘M fine,” You started to push yourself up, hissing at the pain that surged from cuts in your hands. “Brain’s mushy.”

“That all?” Thank god Hawks still managed to joke. The humor dashed across your vision like little sparks. You stifle a weak snort.

“There’s my angel.” Keigo was so relieved to see you conscious that he didn’t notice his own possessive slipup. “Are you lightheaded?”

Gingerly, he helped stabilize your body upright as you wrenched your eyes open.

“A little, it’s okay, this is what happens,” Your voice was so loud in your own skull, it hurt. Though, the pain of your words was only a prick in the wet dough of your overworked mind. Sensation was pain, rolling over you and making it harder and harder to stay lucid.

Keigo swallowed thickly at the sight of your fully-blackened irises.

He needed to get you out as fast as possible, but that required assessing the gash in your leg.

His gaze flickered to your ankle, “Can you move your toes?”

“I don’t want to.”

Keigo frowned, weakly, pushing you as upright as possible as you began to slip to the side.

“Please, you have to try, okay?” Keigo begged, not noticing his own voice wobble.

You shook your head, grabbing it in within its own motion. The dizziness made your insides knot and stick together.

“(Y/N), please.”

You shifted your gaze to him, vision tilting as you did.

The frown on your face split as you just barely moved your toes within your blood-soaked shoe.

The fresh pain, vibrant and boiling, cut through the fog like a heat-blackened knife.

Your own fist flew into your mouth to mouth to suppress the cry that bubbled from your throat. You half-recognized it was the one holding Hawks’s feather.

You couldn’t see the way Keigo flinched at the sound, immediatly trying to soothe the two of you.

“Alright, good, okay, you can still feel them,” Hawks managed to laugh, cutting into the miasma of your psyche. It was something light and airy, tasting like packet sugar on the sides of your tongue.

Chasing the goodness of Hawks’s voice, you mustered up as much clarity as you could grasp, willing yourself into full sentences, “Hawks. I swear to fucking God, if you do not get me out of here right now, I will never make you a drink ever again.”

Keigo blinked at you, nodding, watching your attempt to focus on him, though the fully inked irises seemed to refuse to stay put.

So, this is what the file meant about the cost of your quirk.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, dove.” Hawks scooped you up before you could manage to put more thoughts together. A few of his feathers flew to stabilize your injured leg.

His touch felt good, like incredibly good. Even as the crunch of his boots on the broken glass of the tea shop scratched at your inner ears and burned your sinuses, the heat and texture of his jacket caressed over your cheeks. His warmth tasted like honey and cream.

Your head lolled onto his chest, idly playing with the filaments of his feathers that you refused to let go of.

(Keigo didn’t want you to, anyway.)

He couldn’t fly well, not in his mostly-featherless state, so he took to walking instead. He sidestepped as much glass he could, mostly watching your half-lidded eyes fixate on the feather you had pressed up to your face.

It was a weird circle, Keigo feeling your heat and breath so close, both on his body and on the sensitive plumage. Technically, he was doing his job, so he let himself indulge just the smallest bit in being so close to you. When Keigo squeezed you, nearly at the medic’s area, you tucked your face into his collarbones, breaths slowing from panic. You were even slack in his grip.

A paramedic rushed up to the two of you, guiding you to a setup stretcher and a waiting line of ambulances.

“We can take it from here, Hawks, no need to stick around,” The paramedic’s voice cut through the air, dripping bitterness on your tonsils and iron nails in your lungs.

Hawks set you half-down onto the lip of the vehicle, “Nah, it’s okay, I’ll hang out with them for a sec. They’re a friend of mine.”

He’d never said it before. That you were friends.

Heat rushed up to your fingertips, sweetness washing over your wounded leg, topped off silken air settling around your ears.

You’d drown in the sensation, a million times over.

The paramedic ran off quickly, a man with a nasty head wound taking precedence over your leg (which seemed to have clotted somewhat with your somewhat more relaxed state).

Hawks still didn’t leave.

Rather, he moved closer.

So did you.

From your spot sitting on the edge of the ambulance, your injured leg was twisted and propped up while the other dangled off the edge of the vehicle.

Keigo was right up against the metal, allowing you to lean on his side.

“You good?” You asked him, bumping your leg into his lower back.

Keigo couldn’t help jumping. You’d never casually touched him.

(He really liked it.)

Though the setting and circumstances were fucked, he figured it was okay.

You were friends, right?

Hawks wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing you into his side.

You took it a step further, wanting to simply soak in the amber, milky feeling of his touch.

You squish your cheek low against his collarbone, drinking in the smell of his sweat, stale, spiced cologne, and rich, expensive smelling hair oil.

The scents washed over your skin, rolling over your burning wounds like aloe and clean water.

“Thank you.” Your voice is small and soft, kept gentle by your last sparks of lucidity.

You heard Hawks chuckle, your vision swimming in honey and yellow with the sound, “Just doing my job, you know.”

“I mean, yeah,” You laughed too, pressing your nose harder into him. “But, it’s you, and I’m just glad you’re here.”

“You better stop being so sweet,” The hand around your shoulder rubbed slowly, up and down your spine, sweet spices and sugars dancing on the roof of your mouth. “Gonna give me ideas.”

The touch, something you craved and denied yourself, pushed you over the edge as his touch dissolved across your overstimulated mind in cresting waves of rushing, blessed heat.

Finally succumbing to the flood of your quirk, drowning your mind in both agony and absolute calm, you muttered out the last clear thing you said that evening, “We always give each other ideas, silly.”

God, the many meanings behind your words spun and stuck in Keigo’s mind like the taste of the miel he drank that morning. They relentlessly clung to his psyche, wanting to know more.

He stayed close while you were assessed and strapped into the ambulance. He sent a few of his last feathers to retrieve your jacket and purse from the wrecked shop.

All the while you clutched his bare hand, irises black while the whites turned bloodshot.

As the ambulance drove off towards that public hospital, he could feel the steady beat of your heart through the crimson feather he made sure was tucked in your hand the moment he had to let it go.

He felt you squeeze it, and he wanted nothing more than to return the gesture a thousand times over.

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x you #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo reader insert #hawks reader insert #hawks fanfiction #reader insert #mha x reader #tw blood #keigo x reader #keigo x you #keigo x y/n

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ficforce · 3 years

Text

Strong For Me

Sagamiya Konro x Reader

SFW

Set during the great fire in Asakusa

Established relationship

Watching Company 4 roll in on their metal vehicles and dousing the last of the dying flames filled Y/N with more anger than she thought she could bear. They came in like triumphant heroes but where had they been when the fires were roaring and their people were turning into Infernals?

Nowhere.

It had been the Hikeshi running through the town fighting fires and saving anyone they could, it had been regular people throwing endless buckets of water in an effort to save their houses and many of the people who had an ability to control flames were exhausted. She shoved past one of the Fire soldiers as they tried to direct her elsewhere, drawing Konro’s sword on them when the man tried to grab her - she was quickly left alone.

The sword had been given to her before Konro ran off with Benimaru; he had told her to use it to protect herself whilst he was away from her side. The weapon was one of the most precious things he owned and by giving it to her he was telling her he was going to come back.

Only… he hadn’t come back to her yet.

Y/N stepped out of the way as the Captain of the 4th Company headed up the street, glaring at him as he passed but then she heard Benimaru’s voice from a short distance away, “Beni!” Running hurt her possibly broken ribs but it was hardly on her mind as she spotted Konro propped up against a building, “Konro! Konro you’re o… okay?” Dropping to her knees on the side Benimaru wasn’t she reached out to cup his face, turning it a little to properly look at the slash across his nose, “That’s gonna scar but you’ll still be handsome.” Konro tried to smile at her gentle teasing though it came out as more of a grimace and Y/N finally seemed to notice that his skin was smoking.

Her eyes widened once they saw the burnt and still burning flesh over his shoulders, his arms and his neck, “This…” it wasn’t a normal burn, it wasn’t even the kind of burn that someone with fire resistance skin could get in extreme cases - it was burning from the inside out. Inside some of the wounds, she could see what looked like embers and she realised what he had done. “Konro… you… you didn’t have to go so damn hard! What did you do?!” Hearing her voice too loud and almost shrill she covered it with her hands and tried to fight off her tears. Through her blurry vision, she saw him try to lift his arms to hold her but it seemed it was either too painful or they were too damaged.

“I’ll be okay, Y/N.” Konro grit his teeth as a spike of pain shot through his shoulders again, “Just be strong for me.”

x - -

The town was abnormally quiet, even though two days had passed they were still finding their dead and trying to figure out who combusted and who died from some other cause. Asakusa had always been quick to pick itself up and go about its day but this was something different. The fires had destroyed most of the buildings, the Guardhouse was overfull with the homeless even though everyone with a house left were taking in as many as they could - many were frightened that another Demon might appear and Konro wouldn’t be able to beat it this time.

She had been handing out food and blankets to those who needed them when she came across the massive crater Konro had scarred into the land.

It was terrifying to see.

Not only because of what a full-powered Akatsuki could do. Not because it marked where something as catastrophic as a Demon had appeared either. It was where Konro had been willing to sacrifice everything for his Town. Her lover had gone as far as knocking Benimaru out in order to take the Demon on - not because Benimaru couldn’t have handled it but because Konro wanted to make sure someone who loved and could fight for Asakusa as much as him survived.

She could have lost him completely…

Konro had led as many able-bodied men as he could with Benimaru to protect what they could. The crater in front of her didn’t feel real, it felt like if she stepped forward it would dissipate like some sort of mirage. “Y/N,” a thick coat was wrapped around her shoulders as Benimaru came to stand next to her, worry laced his voice as he forced the woman to stand back a little. “You’ll fall in.” He didn’t say anything more as she pulled the coat closer to her body and pressed her face into the material, it was Konro’s coat, it smelt of him - like he did before all of the medicines and charred skin. “I’ll take care of giving the rest of this stuff out. Konro’s asking for you…” What he actually meant was that Konro was in agony and was calling for her.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes were a little wider than usual and she was trying to smile at him in the same reassuring way she always did. Her hand reached for his hair and she brushed it back a little, stroking her thumb over the bruise on his temple, “Y/N… I’m sorry. I should have done more. I should have been stronger.”

“Y/N…” Konro whispered and tried to reach for her face, wanting to wipe away the stray tear she was trying to ignore - it was agony. His jaw tensed as he tried to clamp down on the pained sounds wanting to escape as he tried to force shredded muscle to work.

Y/N shook her head, “He buried you, Beni… he would have broken your arms and legs if it would have protected you. There was nothing you could have done.” The young man was never going to forgive himself for not being there for Konro, she could see he was already blaming himself and wouldn’t listen to reason. Konro had explained to her how Benimaru had been at his limit, how he had been overheating and for him to be shoved aside so easily further proved that Konro had done right by him.

“…He’s calling for you, Y/N.” He took the supplied from her and headed for the next household that needed help.

Konro appeared to be asleep when she entered the room, the doctor glanced her way before hanging up another IV of who knew what inside, she didn’t care as long as it helped him. There was a large bowl with pinkish water and bloodied bandages soaking inside, shredded packets of medical patches, discarded cooling blankets designed for someone overheating… the room was a mess. The medical rooms were already taken up by the injured so they had moved him to his own room to recover and avoid infections.

“How’s he doing?”

“We’re sedating him as much as we can without killing him, Y/N.” The doctor sighed and began gathering the supplies they’d strewn out of the floor, “It’s tephrosis, his skin is carbonising and the lack of oxygen to his muscles has caused tears all over, he’s got limited mobility in his arms and the muscle around his shoulder blades will take months to heal… if it does.”

Neither spoke as Y/N let that sink in. If Konro couldn’t fight anymore… Strong men were respected in Asakusa, no one challenged the authority of the Hikeshi because it was led by the strongest. Technically, Benimaru was the strongest in a fight but he didn’t have the confidence to lead - someone could easily chip away at his resolve or Benimaru could lose his temper and go too far.

“It’ll heal, he’s stubborn.” The doctor gave her a weak smile and Y/N bit the tip of her tongue, waiting for more bad news.

“His lungs are shot.” There was no gentle way to tell her, “He’s going to be more prone to pneumonia and it won’t be easy for him to fight through it. If he uses his ability excessively not only will it be excruciatingly painful but it will impact his breathing and… the tephrosis could spread.”

It was difficult to imagine what Konro was going through physically and mentally. He wouldn’t regret risking it all for Asakusa but she knew this would be difficult for him. Y/N stood in the doorway with her hands balled up in the material of Konro’s coat, she took in his prone form as if that was going to make her understand how to deal with this. There were cooling blankets beneath him to help fight the inferno beneath his skin, he was pale and even from across the room she could see his skin was clammy as the heat seemed to pour out of him - when was it going to burn itself out?

They hadn’t bandaged his wounds yet, hoping that the air would aid in the healing.

As silently as she could she made her way to his side after the doctor had left, she knelt beside him and reached out to brush the hair from his sweaty forehead, “Y/N?” She nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, her heart hammering against her ribcage as she saw his eyes flutter open weakly, he looked exhausted and her own eyes watered as she saw how much pain was reflected in his. He was doing his best to hide that from her.

“I’m here, Konro,” Y/N leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lips, “What do you need?” She had never seen him down like this, she had never seen him looking so… weak. He was supposed to be a strong man, he was Asakusa’s protector and now they were saying he would never fight again. Benimaru was torn up inside with guilt. Asakusa was in ashes and its people had lost their usual fighting spirit. “Do you need some water? Or… I can make you something to eat - I c-could…” Her voice got stuck in her throat, the lump that had been forming all morning finally grew too big and she nearly choked on a sob.

“Stop!” She grabbed his hand and lowered it to his side, keeping hold of his hand in both hers, “Please don’t.” Even with her voice breaking she still tried to smile for him, “Don’t hurt yourself anymore, Konro… please.” Y/N could hardly breathe anymore, she pressed her forehead down to his and forced the sadness back - she needed to be strong - “You’ve done enough. You don’t have to give anymore.”

He was the man everyone went to for help or advice, he was the one who brought Benimaru under his wing after the Master had died and kept him on the right track. He gave and gave and gave…

Konro let out a shuddering breath, his lungs ached and he began to cough, every single jolt to his body hurt worse than the previous and he couldn’t repress the pained gasps this time. “It’s okay, Konro, I’m here, I’m gonna look after you.”

x - -

“Building was completed this morning, every house has the bare necessities, schools are open, the market is trading as fairly as they can and we have a few new recruits training to join the Hikeshi by the end of the month.” Benimaru let out a small sigh as he finished his report whilst trying to learn how to treat Konro’s wounds. He wanted to help in any way he could and somehow, being able to properly treat Konro made him feel somewhat better.

“Three months to rebuild the Town?” Konro mused, “Was it supplies or labour?”

“Labour. Builders worked flat out but most of them were laid up till recently.”

Y/N listened quietly as they spoke, occasionally she would explain to Benimaru what she was doing but it was good to have the young man there to distract Konro. Months had passed but he was still in a great deal of pain, still burning on the inside but the Haijima patches seemed to help prevent the spread and provide some pain relief - she just wished it was something they could replicate so they didn’t need to rely on the Empire. She heard the pained hitches in Konro’s breathing and sometimes he would stop mid-sentence when it got too much. Sometimes it was enough to bring Konro to tears and he was hiding it the best he could to protect Benimaru and Y/N.

“H-how are the twins?”

Benimaru handed Y/N more bandage as she started to wrap Konro, “They’re assholes… they’re gonna come by later and tell you a bunch of lies about me - anything they say is a lie and if it’s not they deserved it.”

“…If Y/N and I ever have kids you’re not allowed to babysit.”

Benimaru snorted and gathered up the medical supplies to toss out, “That’s fine with me.” He stood up and headed towards the door, “Though I doubt any kid of yours would be as mean as two little girls on a sugar kick.” Not a moment after the door had slid shut, Y/N and Konro heard a crash and two little voices mocking Benimaru - it was followed shortly by their squeals and the sound of a nearly grown man chasing two little girls.

Y/N laughed at the noise and for a moment it felt like old times.

Life was slowly returning to Asakusa, it wasn’t surprising really, they were a resilient bunch. “We’re all done for today,” She kissed his heavily bandaged shoulder and rested a cooling blanket over the top, “Ready to eat?”

Konro winced as he turned his head to kiss her temple whilst she rested lightly on his shoulder, “Not really but you won’t take that as an answer, right?”

“Nope,” Y/N had been keeping his meal warm to the side and picked it up as she moved to sit just beside him, more than ready to feed him as she had for the last few weeks, “Konro…” he gave a hum in response, recognising in her tone there was going to be something he might not like. “I know you said you wanted to do it but let me put your sword on its stand…”

Since the day of the great fire his sword had sat in the corner of the room against the wall, she had made sure to clean it but he had told her he wanted to put it back. It was like a target he had set for himself, that if he could pick it up and place it on the stand on top of the dresser, it would prove something. It felt like such a sad thing to see it neglected and thrown aside - Konro had saved up and worked so hard to have it made.

Konro shook his head, “Be a little more patient with me, Y/N… besides, look,” There was a little more light in his eyes and he slowly reached out and took the chopsticks from the tray, “I’ll be feeding myself in no time!” he opened and closed the utensils and Y/N smiled back at him.

“Okay, that’s pretty impressive.” It was a good sign, it meant that he was healing and a part of her was relieved - being strong all the time, keeping his mood up and helping where she could was exhausting. Konro wasn’t a burden to her, she loved him and even if she ha to feed their whole life she would. She wondered how he managed. “You’ll be lifting your sword in no time then?”

“Yeah.” He parted his lips as she fed him a mouthful of rice.

Whilst he chewed Y/N bit her bottom lip a little nervously, “A-and then you’ll lift me up next?”

“Carrying you around is one of my favourite things, Y/N” She brushed a piece of rice from the corner of his lip where she had seemed distracted and missed. “What other challenges have you got for me?

Y/N hesitated before placing the bowl down and she reached for one of his hands, carefully bringing it to her belly, doing her best not to pull at him, “Do you think that in six months time… you could lift our baby?”

“…W…?” Konro’s eyes widened and he stared at her in shock, his mind turning over what she had said and as it began to slowly sink in, a smile a much brighter than any he had had since the fire spread across his face. “You…” Unable to think properly, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around her as best he could, it hurt like hell and she was going to yell at him but he didn’t care in that small, hopeful, moment, “I’ll be strong enough for you both.”

#sagamiya konro #fire force #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai #reader

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Dark”

Welcome back, everyone! Can you believe it's been six weeks already? I can't. Something something the uncomfortable passage of time during a pandemic as emphasized by a web-series.

But we're here to talk about RWBY the fictional story, not RWBY the cultural icon. At least, we will in a moment. First, I'd like to acknowledge that shaky line between the two, growing blurrier with every volume. A sort of good news, bad news situation.

The bad news — to get that out of the way — is that we cannot easily separate RWBY from its authors and those authors have, sadly, been drawing a lot of negative attention as of late. This isn't anything new, not at all, but I think the unexpectedly long hiatus gave a lot of fans (myself included) the chance to think about Rooster Teeth's failings without getting distracted by their biggest and brightest production. There's a laundry list of problems here — everything from the behavior of voice actors to the quality of their merch — but as a sort of summary issue, I'd like to highlight the reviews that continue to pop up on websites like Glassdoor, detailing the toxic, sexist, crunch-obsessed environment that RT employees are forced to work in. A lot of these websites requires a login to read more than a page of reviews, but you can check out a Twitter thread about it here.

Now, I want to be clear: I'm not bringing this up as a way to shame anyone enjoying RWBY. This isn't a simplistic claim of, "The authors are Problematic™ and therefore you can't like the stuff they produce." Nor is this meant to be a catch-all excuse for RWBY's problems. If it were, I'd have dropped these recaps years ago. I'm of the belief that audiences maintain the right to both praise and criticize the work they're given, regardless of the context in which that work was produced. At the end of the day, RT has presented RWBY as a finished product and, more than that, presents it as an excellent product, one worth both our emotional investment and our money (whether in the form of paying for a First account, or encouraging us to buy merch, attend cons, etc.) I'll continue to critique RWBY as needed, but I a) wanted fans to be at least peripherally aware of these issues and b) clarify that my use of "RT" in statements like, "I can't believe RT is screwing up this badly" is meant to be a broad, nebulas acknowledgement that someone in the company is screwing up, either creatively (doesn't have the skill to write a good scene) or morally (hasn't created an environment in which other creators are capable of crafting a good scene). The real, inner workings of such companies are mostly a secret to their audiences and thus it's near impossible for someone like me — random fan writing these for fun as a casual side hobby — to accurately point fingers. Hence, broad "RT." I just wanted to clarify that when I use this it's as a necessary placeholder for whoever is actually responsible, not a damnation of the overworked animator breaking down in a bathroom. Heavy stuff, but I thought it was necessary (or at least worthwhile) to acknowledge this issue as we head into the second half of the volume.

Now for the good news: RWBY has reached 100 episodes! For any who may not know, 100 is a pretty significant number in the TV world because, when talking about prime time programming, it guarantees syndicated reruns. Basically, networks don't want audiences to get burned out with a show — changing the channel when it comes on because ugh, I've seen this already, recently too — and 100 episodes allows for a roughly five month run without any repeats, making it very profitable. RWBY is obviously not a television show and doesn't benefit from any of this (hell, modern television doesn't benefit from this as much as it used to, not in the age of streaming), but the 100 episode threshold is still ingrained in American culture. Beyond just being a nice, rounded number, it is historically a measure of huge success and I can't imagine that RT isn't aware of that. Regardless of what we think of RWBY's current quality, this is one hell of a milestone and should be applauded.

All that being said... RWBY's quality is definitely still lacking lol.

Our 100th episode is titled "Dark" — keeping with the one word titles, then — and I'd like to emphasize that, as a 100th episode, it definitely delivers in terms of plot. There's plenty of action, important character beats, and at least one major reveal, everything we'd expect from a milestone and a Part II premiere. The animation also continues to be noteworthy for its beauty, as I found myself admiring many of the screenshots I took for this recap. There are certainly things to praise. The only problem (one we're all familiar with by now) is that these small successes are situated within a narrative that's otherwise falling apart. It's all good stuff... provided you ignore literally everything else surrounding it.

But let's dive into some examples. We open on Qrow starting, awoken by the thunder outside. Robyn has been watching him and makes a peppy comment about how none of them will be sleeping tonight, followed by a more serious, "Sounds bad out there." Yeah, it does sound bad, especially when they all know — thanks to Ruby's message back in Volume 7 — that this is due to Salem's arrival. I think a lot of the fandom has forgotten that little detail because people often discuss Qrow as if he is entirely ignorant of what is going on outside his cell. Even if we were to assume that he's forgotten all about the pesky Salem issue (the horror of Clover's death overriding everything else, perhaps) he still knows that Tyrian is running loose in a heat-less city with a creepy storm going on and, from his perspective, the Very Evil Ironwood is still running the show. So it's bad, which begs the question of why Qrow (and Robyn, for that matter) hasn't displayed an ounce of legitimate worry for everyone he knows out there. Thus far, their interactions have centered entirely around Qrow's misplaced blame and Robyn's terrible attempts to lighten the mood, despite the fact that a war is raging right beyond that wall. It's another example of RWBY's inability to manage tone properly, to say nothing of balancing the multiple concerns any one character should be trying to juggle. Just as it rankles that Ruby and Yang don't seem to care about what has happened to their uncle, Qrow likewise doesn't seem to care about what might be happening to his nieces. When did we reach a point where these relationships are so broken that someone can be arrested/chucked into a deadly battle and the others just... ignore that?

So Robyn's otherwise innocuous comment immediately reminds me of how badly the narrative has treated these conflicts and, sadly, things don't improve much from here. We are thankfully spared more of Robyn's jokes when Qrow realizes that what he's hearing can't be thunder. A second later, Cinder blasts through the wall — called it! — and Qrow instinctively transforms.

The only downside to this moment is that the whole ceiling falls down on Qrow and the others because APPARENTLY these cells don't have tops on them. Seriously. As far as I can recall we don't see the stone breaking through the forcefield somehow and this looks pretty open to me.

If it is... you're telling me these crazy powerful fighters who practice landing strategies and leap tall buildings in a single bound —

— can't just hop over this mildly high electric fence to get out? Qrow can't just fly away?

We're, like, two minutes in, folks.

We transfer to Nora's perspective as she wakes up, seeing Klein giving her the IV. He tells her not to worry, that "you and your friend are going to be just fine." What friend? Penny? Klein went upstairs prior to Weiss hugging Whitley or Penny crash landing outside. I had thought them bursting through the door with another unconscious friend was the first time he learned what the big bang outside was, but apparently not.

Penny is, obviously, a mess. While I now understand the choice to make her blood such an eye-catching color when that's crucial to the Hound's hunt, I still think it looks strange visually. Like someone has taken a copy of RWBY and painted over it. It doesn't look like it fits the art style. More than that, it implies some rather complicated things about Penny's humanity, especially in a volume focused around her being a "real girl." Real enough for Maiden powers, but with obviously inhuman blood that isn't even referred to as "bleeding." Penny "leaks" instead.

Toss in the fact that she's literally an android who is made up of tech — recall the running gags about her being heavy, or it hurts to fist-bump her, to say nothing of keeping things like multiple blades inside her body — yet Klein says that her "basic anatomy" is the same and he can "stitch up that wound."

I'm sorry, what? Whatever Penny looks like on the inside, it's not going to resemble a human woman's anatomy, and Klein might be able to stitch the outer layer of skin she's got, but that won't do anything to fix whatever metal bits have been broken underneath. Penny isn't a human-robot hybrid, she's a robot with an aura. Penny has knives in her back, rockets in her feet, and a super computer behind her eyes. When our clip introduced that Klein would be the one to help Penny, my initial reaction was, "Seriously? He's a butler and a doctor and an engineer?" But RWBY didn't even try to get away with a Super Klein explanation, they just waved away Penny's very obvious, inhuman anatomy. Yeah, I'm sure "stitching up" an android wound is just like giving Nora her IV. I hope the surgical sutures he used are extra strong!

In an effort to not entirely drag this episode, I do appreciate that Whitley is allowed an "ugh" moment about the non-blood covering his shirt without anyone calling him out on it. That felt like the sort of thing the show would usually try to make a character feel guilty about and I'm glad that, for once, he was just allowed to be frustrated without comment.

Then the power goes out and May calls, which raises questions about what state the CCTS is in and when scrolls are available to our protagonists vs. when they're not. But whatever. She's checking in because she just "saw another bombing run light up the Kingdom" and —

Wait. Bombing? Salem is bombing the city? I know we've seen explosions in the sky, but I'd always just attributed that to evil aesthetic. Why does this dialogue sound like it's from a World War II film and not a fantasy sci-fi show about literal monsters launching a ground attack?

May looks pretty against the sky though. I like her hair color against that purple.

I'm admittedly grasping at positives here because we finally return to her "You have to choose" ultimatum and — surprise! — May has pulled back completely. Ruby says that once they've helped Penny, "We'll...we'll do something!" which is once again her avoiding making a decision. Ruby still refuses to choose, instead falling back on generic, optimistic pep talks. They'll figure out how to stop Salem later. They'll think about the impact of telling the world later. They'll choose who to help later. Ruby keeps pushing these problems into the future where, she hopes, a perfect, magical solution will have appeared for her to latch onto. When that continues to not happen, others pressuring her to actually do something and stop waiting for perfection — Ironwood, Yang, May — she panics and continues stalling for time. Wait an episode and the narrative supports her in this.

Because initially May was forcing Ruby to decide. Now, May enables her desire to keep putting things off. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. At this point, I don't know how much is left to be done." That's the exact opposite of what May believed last episode, that there was still so much work and good to do for the people of Mantle. This is precisely what the show did with Yang and Ren's scenes too, having people call Ruby out... but then return to a message of, 'Don't worry, you're actually doing just fine' before Ruby is forced to actually change.

None of which even touches on May calling her "kid" in this moment. That continues to be a convenient way of absolving Ruby of any responsibility. When she wants to steal airships or Amity Tower, she's an adult everyone should listen to, the leader of this war. When the story wants to absolve her of previously mentioned flaws, she becomes a kid who shouldn't "beat herself up." I said years ago that RWBY couldn't continue to let the group be both children and adults simultaneously, yet here we are.

So that was a thoroughly disappointing scene. Ruby gets her moment to look sad and defeated, listing "the grimm, the crater, Nora, Penny" as problems she doesn't know how to solve. Note that 'Immortal witch attacking the city I've helped trap here' isn't included in that list. Ruby is still ignoring Salem herself and no one in the group is picking up where May left off, challenging her to do more than wring her hands over things others are already trying to take care of: Ironwood is fighting the grimm, May has gone off to help the crater, Klein is patching up Nora and Penny. Ruby, as one flawed individual, should not be expected to come up with a solution to everything, but she does need to stop acting like she can come up with a solution to everything when it matters most (office scene) and rejecting others' solutions when they ask for her help (Ironwood, May).

If it feels like I'm dragging the flawed, traumatized teenager too much, it's not in an effort to ignore those aspects of her identity. Rather, it's because she's also the licensed huntress who wrested control from a world leader and violently demanded she be put in charge of this battle. Ruby, by her own actions, is now responsible for dealing with these problems, or admitting she was wrong and letting others take the lead, without purposefully derailing their plans. She doesn't get to suddenly go, "I don't know," cry a little, and get sympathetic pats.

But of course that's precisely what happens, courtesy of Weiss.

During this whole scene I kept wondering why no one was celebrating Nora waking up, especially when Ruby outright mentions her. Have they just not noticed given all the Penny drama? Because Nora absolutely woke up.

Aaaand went back to sleep, I guess. What was the point of that POV shot? No worries though, she'll wake up again in a minute.

Willow arrives and announces that they can fix the power (and Penny) using the generator at the edge of the property. I'm convinced RT doesn't actually know what a generator is because the characters are acting like it's some super special device that only richy-rich could possibly have. Whitley says that it's the SDC executives who have their "own power supply" and that it's "extremely unfair." Now, don't get me wrong, a good generator powering large portions of your house can run you 30k+, but you can also get one that plugs into your extension cord and powers your fridge for a couple hundred. There's absolutely a class issue here, just not the one Whitley and Weiss seem to be commenting on. They make a generator sound like the sort of device that only a politician-CEO could possible have and it's weird.

Likely, it sounds weird because it's a choppy way of getting Whitley to bring up the wealth disparity so he can then go, 'That's right! We're crazy rich with a company housing tons of ships! We can use those to evacuate Mantle.' Awkwardness aside, I do like that the Schnee wealth is being used for good purposes, but... evacuate where? To the city currently under attack by a giant whale? In a RWBY that wasn't determined to demonize Ironwood, this would have been a great plot point during the office scene instead, with Weiss offering her services to Ironwood, even if the group decides that a continued evacuation still isn't possible.

Instead, we get it here from Whitley. Do I need to point out the obvious? That Whitley is the MVP of this episode? He's done more good in an HOUR than the group has managed in a year. Give this kid some training and make him a huntsmen instead.

We're given a (very pretty!) shot of the shattered moon because it wouldn't be RWBY if we weren't continually reminded that gods once wiped out humanity before destroying part of a celestial body... and absolutely no one talks about that lol.

Blake's coat might not make any sense for her color scheme, but it does make her easy to spot as she and Ruby run across the grounds. Oh my god, they're actually doing something together! It only took eight years. They even get a lovely talk where Blake admits how much she looks up to Ruby, despite her being younger, and once again I'm struck at how much more I would have loved this scene if it had appeared elsewhere in the series. It is, indeed, as sweet and emotional as all the RWBY GIF-ers are claiming... provided you overlook that this is the exact opposite of what Ruby needs to hear right now. She doesn't need to hear that she's more mature and reliable than her elders when she's functioning under a "We don't need adults" mentality. She doesn't need to hear that not knowing what to do is totally fine, not when that led to her turning on Ironwood, despite not knowing how to stop Salem. She doesn't need to hear that "doing something" — doing anything — is a strength, because Ruby keeps avoiding the big problems for smaller ones she's comfortable with, like standing by Penny's bedside instead of deciding between Mantle and Atlas. Blake's speech is heartfelt, but it's a speech that suits a Beacon days Ruby who is having some doubts about her leadership skills, not the girl whose impulsive — and now lack of — actions is having world-wide repercussions. Everyone is babying Ruby to a staggering degree. It's like if we had a med show where the doctor is standing by the bedside of a coding patient, fretting between two treatments. 'Don't worry,' their colleague says, patting their shoulder. 'I've always looked up to you. You'll do something when you're ready' and then they continue to watch the patient, you know, die.

Also: who does Ruby look up to? Everyone talks about how much they depend on and trust Ruby, but who does Ruby look to for guidance? A number of her problems stem from the fact that she has rejected the advice of everyone who has tried to help her improve: Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, even Yang. Ruby is presented as the pinnacle of what to strive for in a leader, rather than a leader who has only been doing this for two years and still has a great deal to learn.

Anyway, they get the generator on and the Hound shows up.

I am begging RT to just make RWBY a horror story. All their best scenes the last three years have been horror I am bEGGING —

Anyway, while Ruby waits to be eaten we cut to Willow and Klein, the former of which is reaching for her bottle, pulling back, reaching again, all while her hand shakes. This is good. This is what we should have gotten with Qrow. Which isn't to say that their (or anyone's) addiction should be identical, but rather that this is a far more engaging and complex look at addiction than what our birb got. Willow tells us that she doesn't drink in the dark despite bringing the bottle with her; tries to resist drinking when she's scared and ultimately fails. Qrow just decided to stop drinking after decades of addiction, seemingly for no reason, and that was that. Why is a side character we only met this volume written better than one of the main cast?

Blake manages to call Weiss about the Hound and she asks if Whitley can handle the airships without her. I mean, I assume so given that Weiss is looking at the bookshelves while Whitley does all the work lol. He makes a teasing comment about how he can if she can handle that grimm and she comments that they still need to work on his "attitude."

No they don't. Weiss stuck a weapon in her kid brother's face. Whitley made a joke. Even if Weiss' comment is likewise meant to be read as teasing, it's clear that we've bypassed any meaningful conversation between them. That hug was supposed to be a Fix Everything moment even though, as I've laid out elsewhere, it didn't even come close.

We cut back to Ruby getting thrown through a wall into the backyard and the Hound creepily coming after her. She's freaked out by this clearly abnormal grimm and Blake is weirdly... not? "It's just a grimm. Just focus!" Uh, it's obviously not. Have we reached the traumatized, sleep-deprived point where the group is sinking into full-blown denial? I wouldn't be surprised. They've been awake for like... 40+ hours.

Because the Hound knocks Ruby out with a single hit. Just, bam, she's down. "Focusing" is not the solution here.

Weiss calls to warn the others about the grimm, telling them to stick together. Willow (understandably) starts freaking out and flees the room (classic horror trope!). Klein is left alone when Penny wakes up with red eyes. Oh no!

Don't worry. You know nothing meaningful happens.

She shoves Klein before (somehow?) resisting the hack, her Maiden powers going wild in the process. Just when it looks as if Penny might cause some serious damage, Nora wakes up, takes her hand, and says, I kid you not:

"Hey... no one is going to make you do anything you don't want to do... It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest."

Okay. I want to re-emphasize that I love hopeful, uplifting, victory-won-through-the-power-of-love stories. Istg I'm not dead inside, it's just that RWBY does this so badly. I mean, what is this? It has similarities to the character shouting, 'No! Resist!' to their mind-controlled ally, but this is not presented as a desperate, last-ditch effort by Nora. She just speaks like this is the most obvious truth in the world. If you don't want to have your mind taken over... just don't! It's that simple. The problem definitely isn't that Watts has changed her coding and has implemented a command she can't override, it's that Penny has forgotten about the "rest" of her personhood.

And this works. Granted, not for long, but we leave Nora having successfully calmed Penny down and until her eyes unexpectedly go red again scenes later, we're left assuming that this is a permanent solution. That, imo anyway, is taking the Power of Love too far, overriding the basic reality of Penny being hacked. It’s not a personal failing she must overcome, it’s an external attack. I would have rather had Nora react to the scars she saw on her arm, or have a moment with Klein, or get some love from the group. Not a wakes up, falls asleep, wakes up again to save Penny with a Ruby level 'Just ignore reality' pep-talk, then back to sleep again.

So Penny isn't attacking her allies, or mistakenly hurting her allies with wild Maiden powers. Not that the group doesn't have enough to deal with, but still. Weiss arrives to help with the Hound and attempts a new summon, only to fail when two minor grimm burrow up into her glyphs. I really enjoyed that moment, both for the wing visual and the knowledge that Weiss' glyphs can fail if you break them somehow (which makes sense). Also, I just like that she failed in general? Weiss is, as per usual now, about to demonstrate just how OP she is compared to the rest of the team, so it was nice to see her faltering here.

The Hound tries to make off with Ruby and Blake does an excellent job of keeping it tethered. Ruby finally wakes, only to realize that the grimm is actually after Penny since it's staring at her power up through the window, no longer trying to escape. Moments like this remind me that there's someone on RT's writing team that knows what they're doing, at least some of the time. The assumption that the Hound is after Ruby as a SEW, the surprise that it's actually Penny, realizing it holds up because Ruby is covered in Penny's blood and Blake is not... that's all nice, tight plotting. More of that please!

The Hound drops her and Ruby's aura shatters when she hits the ground. I want everyone to remember this moment as an example of how strong the Hound is. The group may be tired, but unlike YJR they've been sitting around in the Schnee manor for a number of hours, regaining strength. We saw the Hound hit Ruby twice — once through the wall and once to knock her out — and then she falls from a not very high distance for a huntress, yet her aura is toast. That's the level of power and skill the Hound possesses. Decimating YJR, knocking Oscar out, same for Ruby, avoiding Blake and Weiss' hits, soon to treat Penny like a ragdoll. Just remember all this for the episode's end.

Blake tells Weiss she'll take care of Ruby, you go help the others. Yay breaking up the duos more! Bad timing though as the new acid-spitting grimm pops out of the ground and Blake is now left alone to face it.

Weiss re-enters the mansion, knowing the Hound is somewhere nearby, but not where. Suddenly, Willow's voice sounds through her scroll with an, "Above you!" which... doesn't keep Weiss from getting hit lol. But it's the thought that counts! Willow has accessed the cameras she's set up throughout the manor, watching the Hound's movements, and I have to say, that is a WAY better use of her separation from Klein than I thought we were getting. I legit thought they'd have Willow run away in a panic, meet the Hound, die, and then Weiss could be sad about losing her mom.

It does say something about RWBY's writing that this was my knee-jerk theory, as well as my surprise when we got something way better.

The Hound runs off, uninterested in Weiss, and she asks Willow to keep tabs on it. It heads for Whitley next (also covered in Penny's blood) and very creepily stalks him in the office with a, "I know you're here." Whitley is seconds away from being Hound chow before one of Weiss' boars pin it against the wall. He runs, then runs BACK to finish deploying the airships, before finally escaping assumed death. Goddamn this boy is pulling his weight.

I assume all these ships are automated then? I hope someone takes a moment to call May. Otherwise it's going to be super weird for the Mantle citizens if a fleet of SDC ships just show up and hover there...

I don't entirely understand how Weiss saved him though. She's nowhere to be seen when Whitley leaves and he runs a fair distance before he and Willow encounter Weiss again. We know her summons don't have to keep right next to her, but are they capable of rudimentary thought, attacking an enemy — and an enemy only — despite Weiss being a couple corridors down and unable to see the current battlefield? I don't know. In another series I'd theorize that this was a deliberate hint, a way to clue us into the fact that Willow, someone who we currently know almost nothing about, had training in the past and summoned the boar herself. Weiss and Winter certainly didn't get that hereditary skill from Jacques. Hell, we might still get that, Weiss reacting with confusion next episode when Whitley thanks her for the boar, but I doubt it. That scene with Ruby and the Hound aside, the show isn't this good at laying groundwork and then following up on it.

Case in point: Weiss says, "I didn't forget you" to Whitley after he gets away from the Hound, the moment trying to harken back to her promise to Willow. Key word is "trying." Because she absolutely forgot him! Weiss threatened and ignored Whitley until he proved his usefulness. I also shouldn't need to point out that, "Don't forget your brother" does not mean, "Don't let your brother die a horrible death by abnormal grimm." Weiss acts like her saving him is a fulfillment of her promise, rather than just the most basic of human decency. And also, you know, her job.

So that part is frustrating. The entire Schnee dynamic is a mess, from Weiss making a joke of her father's arrest, to Willow (presumably) fixing their relationship by putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Okay.

Then Weiss cuts off the Hound by summoning a giant wall of ice. My brain, every time this happens:

YOU COULD HAVE FIXED THE HOLE IN MANTLE'S WALL.

Moving on, Blake's fight against the acid... thing has some great choreography, including Blake using her semblance which we haven't seen in AGES.

I really like the fight itself, just not what Blake is shouting the whole time. "I need you, Ruby! We all need you!" This has really gotten ridiculous. Ruby is presented as everyone's sole savior despite failing time and time again. It's not that I don't think Blake as a character should have faith in her leader, it's that I don't think the writers should be crafting a story where everyone puts their unshakable hopes in an untrained, disloyal, impulsive 17 year old. I mean, Ruby is currently unconscious, yet Blake is acting like if she doesn't wake up — she, as an individual, if Ruby Rose does not re-join this fight — then all is lost. If Ruby doesn't save them, no one can. Which is, of course, absurd on numerous levels. Blake doesn't need the passed out, aura-less Ruby right now, she needs the still very healthy Weiss pulling out multiple summons and an ice wall! Use your scroll and call for backup again.

But of course, Ruby wakes up and kills the new, terrifying grimm with a single hit. It's a preview of what's to come with the Hound and it's just as ridiculous here as it will be there.

Speaking of the Hound, am I the only one who thought this was... cute?

I can't possibly be the only one. That head-tilt is exactly what my dogs do and my brain instinctively went, "Aww, puppy!"

Murderous puppy.

The Hound realizes none of the Schnees are who it's looking for and runs off. Penny, meanwhile, has been fully taken over because, well, that's just what's convenient now. She resists long enough keep Amity up, then succumbs, then resists to apologize to Ruby, then succumbs, then resists because Nora asked her to, then succumbs once it's time to knock her out. If RWBY was willing to commit to consequences, Penny would have been taken over and that was that. The characters would need to deal with whatever outcome happens as a result. Instead, the show very carefully avoids any of those pesky consequences by having Penny successfully resisting at key moments, despite no explanation of how she's managing that.

She shoves Klein again (Klein is having a Bad Time) and starts walking down the main steps. When Whitley wants to know where the hell she's going, Penny mechanically responds that she must "Open the vault, then self-destruct." I suppose the change Watts made was the self-destruct order? Ironwood obviously wants the vault open, though not necessarily Penny's death. Think what you will of his moral compass, she's a damn powerful ally — a research project, perhaps — and a Maiden to boot. At the very least, her death may give the powers to someone even worse.

God, please don't let them have brought Penny back and made her a Maiden just to kill her again.

The Hound arrives though and, as said, knocks Penny out. We're back to square one with her, then. Note though that this attack is near instantaneous. She grabs its hands one second, is hanging limply the next. Wow, the Hound sure is a terrifying antagonist!

Not for long.

"That's enough," Ruby says and one-shots it with her eyes.

Now, I want to talk for a moment about the implications of that line. "That's enough." Obviously Ruby is #done with this situation and emotionally unwilling to let the Hound kidnap Penny (congratulations, Nuts and Dolts shippers), but there's a meta reading here as well. Not intentional, but glaring to me nonetheless. Basically, the idea that the Hound has, from a plot perspective, done enough. It has served its singular purpose. It kidnapped Oscar and now it dies. Never-mind how insanely powerful we've established the Hound to be, never-mind how Ruby's eyes also work or don't work according to whether anything of actual import is on the line. From a plot perspective "that's enough" and the Hound can be disposed of instantly. It got Oscar and gave us an episode of filler creepiness. Move along now.

The idea behind Ruby's eyes isn't bad, but the execution absolutely is. RT has undermined a huge portion of the stakes by giving their protagonist an instant kill-shot that always works precisely when she needs it to. Starting with the Apathy, we have yet to get a moment where Ruby's eyes fail to save the day when she really needs them to, no matter how incredible the challenge. The Hound was very intentionally written to be a grimm outside of the group's current power level. It thinks, it talks, they literally can't touch it. This creates the expectation that the group will need to grow stronger — or at least become smarter — in order to surmount this new obstacle, yet Ruby's eyes undermine all of that. The group hasn't grown in years, the show just makes enemies weaker as needed (Ace Ops), or has Ruby pull out her eyes as a trump card. It wouldn't be that bad if we'd at least gotten a good battle out of it, one where the group gets close to defeating the Hound on their own, but needs Ruby's eyes to finish it off. Instead, she literally walks up without any aura, announces to the audience that this antagonist's time is up, and blasts it out a window.

Granted, Ruby's eyes don't completely finish it. The Hound pulls itself to its feet and we see this.

Yup, that's a guy and yup, those are silver eyes.

I would like to issue a formal apology to the "It's secretly Summer!" theorists in the fandom. I mean, I still think it would be ridiculous (and at this point highly improbable) that Ruby's dead mother has actually been a grimm mutant this whole time, just hanging out in Salem's realm while she waits for the plot to start before attacking the world, and then sends some no-name faunus dude after the group instead of their leader's mother for extra, emotional torture... but you all were definitely right about the “It's a person” part! I... don't know how I feel about this. Admittedly, it seems to be a logical continuation of the other grimm-human hybrids we've seen — namely Cinder and Salem herself — and it finally explains why Salem wants Ruby alive (even though it actually doesn't because WHY did she want more SEWs for Hound grimm when she wasn't even attacking back then? And already has all these other insanely powerful tools??), but at the same time, it feels like it's complicating a story that doesn't need further complications. The group fights monsters and has an immortal enemy. You don't need to add 'Some of those monsters are secretly human' to the mix.

It doesn't hurt that this twist is giving me Attack on Titan vibes, which, ew. A dark time in my fandom life, folks.

The Hound staggers a few steps before Whitley and Willow dump a suit of armor on it. That's all it takes to kill the most dangerous grimm we've ever seen: a single flash of silver eyes and some heavy metal. This also wreaks havoc with the implication that Salem wants SEWs alive because they create such powerful grimm. Obviously not. I mean yeah, normal huntsmen are going to have serious problems, we’ve seen that this volume, but any other SEWs nearby will take a Hound out instantaneously. For a villain with so many other powerful abilities — immortality, magic, endless normal grimm, her nifty soup — Salem would be much better served just killing SEWs straight out. Clearly, creating Hounds isn't worth the effort.

The Hound leaves some bones behind and Ruby collapses to her knees, overcome with the knowledge that this was once a person. Again, uncomfortable Attack on Titan parallels.

We finish our premiere with Cinder clearing away rubble to reveal Watts. Honestly, I like that we ended on this because her rescue is hilarious. She just slings him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes and blasts off with her magic fire feet. Fantastic.

Note though that with this scene we've seen almost everything from the clip and the trailer. What's to come in the rest of Volume 8? No idea. Outside of Winter leading the charge with the bomb, we got it all here.

Time to update the bingo board!

I'm crossing off "Introducing new grimm that are quickly abandoned." Between the Hound and acid-dude both falling to a single blast/cut from Ruby, we've more than earned this square.

It doesn't look as if we'll get another Watts-Jacques team-up now that he's left, but you never know.

Maria's got me worried. I feel like her Yoda fight against Neo is the one thing she'll be allowed to do this volume, but given that we didn't see anyone except Ruby's group this episode, we don't yet know whether the story is now ignoring her and Pietro, or if they'll re-appear in another episode like YJR.

Qrow is free. Will he get a drink before trying to murder Ironwood? Perhaps.

Still no bingo :(

All in all, the episode was by no means horrible. I think there were lots of horrible parts, but also some legitimately well executed moments, fun action, and scenes that I can easily imagine as squee worthy if you lean back and squint. Everything is comparative and in the growing collection of bad RWBY episodes, this one isn't securing a top slot. Which doesn't mean I think it's good, just... not as bad as it could have been and primarily only bad due to long-running problems, not things this specific episode has done. That's my bar then, so low it has officially entered the underworld.

Still, RWBY is back and a part of me is eager to see where this volume takes us, for better or for worse.

Until next week! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #rwby recaps #rwby dark

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