#'so much for wearing THESE pants again this trip'

[yanderenightmare]

Ryusei Shido

♡ TW: nsfw, idk, fluffy, sappy

♡ GN reader

You could never date him, but you love the way he fucks you.

He’s not even thinking about your pleasure. But you think, maybe, that’s precisely what makes it so good.

Most guys will let you do some of the work, but Ryusei doesn’t think of sex as a team effort. No, it’s just him and his goal, and he plays you just like he does the soccer field, leaving you feeling trampled in the best possible way.

He’s got you on your back, but only barely. His hands keep you lifted off the mattress, curled into the fat of your ass. It’s a common position, but Ryusei makes it anything but normal—propped on his toes and knees, wearing you like a belt, while hunched over you like a beast with his tongue on your chest.

The pace is fast, and he never lets up, not even when you scream and cum for the third time—he just fucks you through it like a dog chasing a bone, and when he finally catches it, he only settles for burying it as deep as you go. And no, of course, he doesn’t wear a condom. He could fuck a blowup doll if he wanted to wrap his dick in plastic.

He’s crazy. Asking if you’d mind if he invited his buddy Sae to join—as if that’s just something you ask. He can’t see you as much more than a football the way he wants to pass you around.

Honestly, he’s the worst, and so, no matter how good he fucks you, you never stay the night. Both on principle and survival instinct. Getting familiar with a wild animal will only get you hurt in the end, after all.

And so, you pick your underwear up from the floor.

“What’s the rush?” he asks groggily. Hair down, messy and heavy with sweat, naked still, and glistening in the afterglow.

You pull your bottoms on and then proceed to gather your things. Answering unsympathetically, “I got work in the morning.”

“Boo.” He rolls over until he’s lying across the bed, his head falling over the edge, looking at you upside down where you walk around trying to undo his handiwork. “Just quit and become my sex slave.”

You crack a small laugh, “Psh, what’re the benefits?”

He rolls over onto his stomach, propping his head up under a hand. “Health care, housing, meals, endless shopping trips, oh, and fucking me, of course.” He smiles with a bite to his lip.

You try your best to deadpan when looking at him, but can’t help your lips curling into a smile. 

“You’re silly,” is still all you say, continuing to collect your things. When he undressed you earlier, he somehow managed to throw things into every corner of the room. Maniac.

“Come on,” he drawls, once again rolling over—not about to tell you that he made sure to fling your pants under the bed. “Stay for round two, and I’ll fuck yah so hard you won’t even be able to leave.”

You just sigh, “I told you, I got work.”

“I’ll drive you in the morning,” he insists.

And so do you with another excuse, “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Then quit,” he repeats—voice a little curt this time.

You look up from your search and see his upset pout—looking like a kid who’s been told no. 

“You said that already,” you say softly, coming over to ruffle his unkempt hair.

“And I meant it,” he persists, taking your hand and pulling you down into the bed again, making sure to trap you by maneuvering himself on top before you had any chance of escaping. 

He kisses your neck, burying his face there with a groan. “Fucking you before practice makes me feel invincible. Sex with you is like my good luck charm. When I don’t get it, it’s like I forget how to kick the ball—”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

“I’m being serious. I mean…” His voice turns soft then, and he nuzzles his face deeper into your neck, making his words come out muffled, “We don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to. But at least spend the night… for once.”

The tips of his ears are bright red. You’re not entirely sure what to make of it, but you’d have to have nerves of steel to say no a third time.

Wrapping his head in your hands, you pet his hair and kiss his crown.

“Okay, you win, Ryu. I’ll stay.”

♡ MISCELLANEOUS masterlist

[elpsycongruent]

addendum to this week's injury list: being hit smack in the back of my bad leg by a small child on an out of control bicycle

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. play fighting with your lover quickly turns into you being pounded on the couch.

tags. (assassin!)toji x female reader. smut. dōggy style. age gap implied. with plot-ish. unprotected -> p in v. size difference / kink. power trip-ish. teasing. crēampie. dacryphilia. tummy bulging. pūssy slapping. breēding mention. reader gets called ‘(little) girl, pretty, doll, slut.’ not proofread. wc: 3.4k

you let out a sigh of relief when your lover comes back home safe from another mission. toji’s risky job always leaves you anxious, knowing what could happen to him if things took a turn for the worse.

“keheh, there’s my pretty girl,” toji grins as he feels you jump into his embrace the instant he steps into the living room. your arms wrap around his waist and your head rests against his chiseled chest. he’s sweaty and bloody, yet you can’t care less. you’ve waited all day for him.

you tilt your head back and give the black-haired man a quick, passionate kiss. he returns it with equal force before picking you up and bringing you over to the couch. once toji put you down, he reaches a hand out to lazily ruffle your hair, “i’m g’nna take a shower, yeah?”

you shake your head and grab his hand before he can think of moving away. “no, want you to stay. just for a little more,” you attempt to coax toji into staying with you for a bit more.

“after i take a shower, doll. i probably smell ‘n look like shit,” the assassin mumbles in a low tone. his hair is wet with sweat, black locks sticking to his forehead. his compression shirt is torn in some places, but it’s neatly outlining his pecs, which makes him look ten times more attractive.

“nu-uh, you don’t,” you refute and tug at toji’s wrist again. he playfully rolls his eyes after giving in to your innocent request. you clearly don’t mind the sweaty state he’s in. you just want to cuddle up and talk to him about all kinds of things. “you look as handsome as ever,” you smile at him once you straddle his lap. toji’s hands find your hips, his nails ghosting over your skin to send shivers down your spine.

“heh. that ain’t nothin’ new,” your lover leans his head back with a cocky smirk. he knows how much you love it when he’s all sweaty and tired. toji never fails to spot the way your eyes wander up and down his muscular figure whenever he’s wearing that signature outfit of his. a black compression shirt that defines his pecs and white-ish baggy pants. you love it.

your fingers trace circles over his chest. you don’t seem to care about the random crimson droplets on his skin. they’re not his, thus you let it go. asking questions about the job he’s finished will only ruin the mood you’ve set. plus, toji clearly needs some distraction from the fact that his limbs are aching. he’s outdone himself today as well.

“you tired?” you ask through a soft murmur. your boyfriend nods while yawning, teasingly pinching your cheek afterwards. “mhm,” toji hums while playing with the collar of your shirt, eyes wandering down to your tits. one of his most favorite spots on your body.

you’re clearly not wearing a bra and it’s making it difficult for him to stay focused. your nipples push against the material of your pyjamas so deliciously, just begging to be touched by his fingers. he quietly clears his throat and looks the other direction to play it off.

“oh?” you giggle and tap toji’s cheek twice to gain his attention, though with no success. he’s trying his best to come off as nonchalant as possible—to remain that stoic man he’s always been. his attempts are proven futile when you press your breasts against his chest.

“come on, babe. look at meeee,” you laugh and resort to tickling toji’s belly and armpits. he freezes for a second before scoffing at your actions, his hands immediately rush under your shirt to tickle you back. you end up squirming on his lap, trying to swat his arms in attempt to defend yourself.

your lover lets out a haughty chuckle as you become defenceless because of his well calculated revenge tickles. “mm? didn’t hear ya, y’ should speak up,” toji teases you, clearly seeing how you’re struggling to talk as he makes you squeal and laugh uncontrollably.

there are tears forming on your eyes. your breath comes in short gasps when you finally find a chance to jump off toji’s lap. “shut up, fushiguro!” you call out, going back to last name basis, which you know toji dislikes. you stumble back a little and stick your tongue out at your lover before fleeing the scene. or at least you try to.

“fushiguro, aye?” you hear toji’s voice right behind you, and when you turn around to face him, he’s already got you caged in his arms. you gasp and kick your legs, hitting him in the shin. the man groans at the contact and loosens his grip a little. you take the opportunity again, jumping onto his back, clinging onto him with your legs around his waist. you encircle your arm around his neck and catch him off guard with a surprise headlock.

“hehe, got you now,” you grin smugly. toji’s not giving his best, you know that, because you’d be on the floor if he did. he’s allowing you to have fun and he’s indulging you, which you more than so appreciate. “what? cat got your tongue, big boy?” you continue challenging him, proud of your little achievement.

you’re painfully oblivious to toji's struggles. how he's struggling with his inner desires, how his hands ball up into fists at his side. he can feel your body clinging onto him, your legs wrapped so tightly around his waist. it’s adorable that you find so much joy in having the upper hand over a grown man like him.

adorable, and such a huge turn on.

toji can’t believe that he’s getting a boner from just playing with you like this. maybe it’s your body that’s pressed against him so snugly, letting him feel every feminine curve or maybe it's the fact that he knows he can easily pin you to the ground and show you what a real man can do until you're begging for mercy.

your nipples are pressed against his back and it’s so hard to act like he can’t feel that. it’s hard to believe you’re not doing it on purpose, but you truly aren’t.

“careful,” toji comments in a husky voice. the corner of his lip twitches, his eyes hidden behind his black bangs, “y’ might start something you can’t finish.” you figure that it’s just bait to scare you off, so you don’t take it seriously. you tighten the headlock a little, biting toji’s ear and nibbling on it as revenge.

“you’re not scaring me with that,” you chuckle and pinch toji’s cheek with your free hand. the older man turns his head slightly, catching a glimpse of your mischievous grin. oh, how cute.

with a swift, fluid motion, toji reaches up with both hands and grasps your thighs firmly. in a heartbeat, your positions reverse and he pins you to the nearby wall. both of his meaty arms cage you in by pressing against the concrete on either side of your head.

“seems like i’m the one who got ya now, doll,” toji murmurs, his voice low and laced with a hint of lust. he gazes down at you, your faces mere inches apart. you can feel his breath fanning against your lips. he’s itching to claim your mouth so, so bad.

but before he can capture your sweet lips with his, you catch him off guard by pushing your full weight forward, causing toji to lose balance. he tumbles backwards onto the carpet below with you on top of him.

“nope, am not giving up so easily,” you giggle as you try to grab at his wrists. you’re oblivious to toji’s desires, too focused on overpowering the man who could snap you in half. it’s fun when he allows you to take control.

however, your lover is slowly losing his rationality. you’re seated on top of his abs and he can swear he can feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes. it’s the only thing he can focus on at that moment. the only thing he craves.

“fuck, c’mere,” toji growls and rolls you over so you’re pinned beneath him on the floor. he can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips when your laughter echoes throughout the living room. even through his lustful haze, he finds your joy thoroughly endearing.

you manage to find another opening and roll over again so you’re on top of him instead. the cycle continues for a few more seconds, your bodies lost in a tangled mess of limbs. you exchange gasps, grunts and giggles while you’re ‘fighting’ for dominance.

when you bite on toji’s shoulder as a way to catch him off guard once more, he hisses. not in an annoyed or pained way— no. he’s so turned on that you biting him sends a jolt of pleasure right down to his aching cock. so turned on that he may accidentally have developed a new kink in that same second.

either way, that little action was his last straw.

toji effortlessly lifts you up on the couch, your body bouncing a bit on the plush cushions as he turns you around on your stomach. one arm hooks around your neck, his bicep pressing against your throat. not enough to hinder your airway, but enough to send shivers down your spine.

“told ya to b’ careful,” toji grunts, his breath against your sensitive skin from behind, “y’ should start listening to me more.” his tongue flicks out and licks a stripe up your ear. his crotch is pressed right against your ass and only then do you notice his raging hard-on.

your eyes widen, cheek smushed against his muscular arm wrapped around your neck, keeping you in place beneath his big body. “oh, fuck, toji,” you let out a shuddering breath. you’re completely engulfed by his large frame—disappearing out of sight. just how he likes it.

“yeah? feel that?” toji grins as he squeezes his bicep around your delicate throat some more. you gasp and whine, turned on by him overpowering you, as much as you had been enjoying the opposite just seconds ago. he mocks your earlier words with a grunt, “think i have’ta remind my lil’ brat exactly what this ‘big boy’ can do to ya.”

and the older man wastes no time to do exactly that.

your shorts and panties are tossed carelessly on the carpet, your cheek smushed against the cushions that you’re desperately gripping. your face is contorted with pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes glazed over and your swollen lips parted to take shallow breaths.

you can feel the ache in your lower back. the arch of your spine is nearly unnatural as your ass is pushed so high up, bouncing back to meet the mean backshots your man is giving you.

“ah, ngh! t—toooji,” you mewl loudly, droplets of saliva trickling down from the corner of your mouth. you can’t deny that this entire situation has you soaked.

the switch toji went through, from being playful and letting you do what you want to reminding you who’s boss at the end of the day— it’s perfect and feels way too good. the cherry on top is the familiar scent of his body, the sweat mixed with his cologne.

it adds to the pleasure, makes you dizzy in a good way.

toji grips your waist, his manly hands trailing down to your hips every now and then for the extra leverage. his fingers dig into your soft flesh as he pounds into you mercislessly, fucking into you like you’re his personal cocksleeve. “ain’t gonna try that again, are ya?”

“dumb lil’ slut,” your harsh lover grumbles under his breath, hand smacking the fat of your ass. toji loves seeing it ripple underneath him, even more so when his hips smack against your rear with strength that leaves your flesh stinging, “bet ya love it when i remind you who owns this cunt.”

toji groans as he slides his thick cock in and out of your tight cunt. you’re gripping him like you never want to let go, like you want to milk him of every drop of the cum stored in his balls.

the sight that he’s blessed with from his point of view can make him bust a load right then and there. you’re presenting your ass to him shamelessly, looking back over your shoulder with lust-blown eyes.

and don’t get him started on the outline of his dick distending your tummy, the one he can feel whenever he reaches a hand around to press against your lower abdomen and circle your clit. too fucking lewd.

“fuck, yeahhhh. take that fat fuckin’ dick, baby,” toji throws his head back as he pushes your body even further into the couch. you swear he’s folding you in half, “let me show ya what a real man in charge can do— how a real man fucks his woman.”

toji’s cock is ruining you, reshaping your insides to fit his massive size and you don’t mind it one bit. in fact, you love it. love the feel of him, the stretch and burn of his thick cock splitting you open.

“yes, mmh, yes! fuck me!” you keen, sobbing from the pleasure. your hand reaches back to scratch at toji’s arm, trying to hold onto him, to find him even in the midst of it all. the view of your desperation and your pleas makes him lose it.

the dark-haired man scoffs, “oh, i’ll fuck ya, all right. . .”

with a low growl, toji plants one foot on the floor next to you, his other leg still bent at the knee on the sofa you’re laying at. the muscles in his arms ripple as he lifts your hips even higher up to be able to meet his thrusts.

“fuuuuuck! right there!” you wail, your head trashing back and forth on the damp sofa. from this new angle, he can drive his fat dick into you even deeper, engorged tip hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see white.

toji revels in the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, mixed with your sweet moans. you seem so much smaller than him in this new position, your body helplessly giving in, allowing him to put you in whatever position he wants. it boosts his ego and makes his cock pulse inside of you.

he loves seeing the tears in your eyes as it nearly gets too much for you to handle. it motivates him to fuck you harder until you’re full on bawling, which he can easily get off on. making you cry in pure bliss is all he wants to achieve.

your pussy is tight as it clenches around his cock like a vice. toji’s hand slithers around to circle your clit, making your legs spasm and hips thrust back sloppily. “shitttt, y’r sweet lil’ cunt was made just for this—” he pants as his thumb presses against the nub, “to take my cock.”

all you can do is dumbly nod at whatever your partner says. “mmhm, ah yeah, made for you,” your small whines are music to his ears. the palms of your hands feel clammy as you hold onto anything you can grasp.

everything around you is a blur as the only thing you can focus on is the way his heavy cock fills you so well.

toji can feel your juices trickling down his heavy sack, soaking his thighs and yours, as well as the couch. it will leave stains, but he doesn’t care and neither do you.

“look at ya,” he huffs and slaps your clit once, callused fingers dragging along your puffy lips that are parted obscenely wide for his cock. toji brings his wet finger to his mouth to lick it clean. he hums satisfactorily at the taste, “pussy’s droolin’ aaaall over my dick. nasty girl.”

your pussy starts fluttering around his thick length as it impales you over and over. it’s a telltale sign of your orgasm, one toji has come to recognise quite easily.

“yeah? gonna make an even bigger mess on my cock?” he grins before pressing his chest against your sweaty back, blanketing your small body. the extra weight added to the ecstasy only makes you scream louder for him.

“yes, yes, yes! gonna cum!” you cry out, toes curling and eyes rolling back as you try to prolong your pleasure. even if it’s only for a second.

toji curses under his breath as his hips move faster to drive you over the edge. he can’t wait to feel your cunt get even tighter, to make it feel like you’re about to snap his dick off. he loves the pain mixed with the pleasure of your tightness.

“do it. cream all over me, c’mon, little girl. y’ can do it,” toji coaxes, delivering small smacks to your clit, causing your hips to jolt back with each slap. you can’t do it anymore— can’t hold on any longer.

you scream as you cum, your pussy spasming wildly around toji’s pulsing cock. that sensation alone has the older man gasping for air, nails digging into the flesh of your ass. no matter how many times he fucks you, the moment you cum, he automatically follows.

the way you squeeze his dick and hold onto it like you don’t want to let go is simply too much.

“fuck, fuck, fuck. g’nna make me bust a fat fuckin’ nut inside of you,” toji groans, his rhythm growing sloppy yet his thrusts are still deliciously hard, “gonna pump this pussy full of my load. breed ‘er nice and deep. shitt— take it!”

a strangled moan leaves his lips as he grinds his hips against your ass while his cock jolts inside of you. he pumps jet after jet of hot cum directly into your womb, tip rubbing against the deepest spot he can reach.

“eaaaasy, yeah, just like that. let it soak into ya,” toji hisses as his hips jerk erratically, “good girl. takin’ all of it so well.” it seems to go on forever as spurts of semen flood your insides for a good few seconds.

once your lover fully empties his balls inside of you, he feels himself grow weak. his thighs and arms tremble a bit from overexertion.

you collapse together in a sweaty heap, toji’s softening dick still buried deep inside of you. the only thing filling the room now is your heavy breathing as you slowly regain your composure. it’s quite a comfortable silence.

after a while, toji shifts. he pulls out with a wet squelch and watches with half-lidded eyes as thick, pearly globs of cum trickle down your slit. he grins lazily at the sight before turning you around.

you’re completely fucked out, it seems. your chest is heaving and your eyes are barely open. the trails of tears and drool on your face tells the man enough. toji wipes a stray strand of hair from your face with a haughty chuckle, “damn, keheh, fucked y’ real good. you okay though?”

you weakly nod in response before wrapping your arms around him. your hands rest on his broad back, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

toji hums and hugs you back, being careful not to squish you under his weight. he presses chaste kisses to your temple as he enjoys your frame molding perfectly against the hard muscles of his body.

“y’ did so well for me, little girl,” he comments gruffly, voice deep and a bit hoarse. you smile at the praise and murmur a small ‘thanks’. nothing is better than being able to feel safe with your lover after an intense session like that.

you pull back a bit and look up at toji with a little, playful grin. “guess i need to challenge you more often. felt too good, babe.”

toji lets out a small scoff and shakes his head. a ghost of a smirk appears on his lips as he slightly pinches your side. he holds you against his chest and buries his nose into your hair, sighing as he finally relaxes his weary body.

“y’ can try. might break ya for real next time, though.”

[thundersoothers]

john price, his wife, and... the dog (derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: inspired by this thought about john price being an absolutely softie for his wife. continued here!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of cheating but it’s NOT TRUE! you’ll see… just fluff that reallyyyyy makes me want to marry this man.

It’s 2AM on a Saturday in the summer when John Price thinks he hears his wife cheating on him. 

“Shhh!!  You have to be quiet, you’ll wake up my husband.” 

He opens his heavy eyes to see the TV paused at the end credits of some movie he can’t even remember the name of.  The screen reflects in the crystal of the empty rocks glass on the coffee table next to his feet, holding only a warm whiskey stone.  

He groans and stretches, his old t-shirt riding up to show a dark happy trail disappearing into low-waisted flannel pajama pants.  He has one sock on with a hole in the toe.  You told him to get rid of them and got him a pack of 20 of the same sock (he’s very particular about his socks), but he still wears these ones, anyway. 

“Stop moving, I’m trying to concentrate here.  Damn lock… can never— oh, shit.  Heh. Wrong key.” 

He can hear you muttering and giggling and the scratch of the key against the lock as you struggle to get it in. 

It’s your girls’ night and he likes to wait up for you to make sure you get in safely.  He saw you off around 8PM, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as you took a shot of tequila.  You planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark that he didn’t bother to fully wipe off. 

“Sorry, I know you’re eager to get inside.  I bet you’re so cold, all naked.  Here, you can go in my dress, is that better?  Fu—ow!  Don’t bite my tit, Jesus!  Sharp teeth…” 

Price suddenly feels much more awake.  He pushes himself up from the couch and starts to walk to the foyer. 

“This damn door… ah!  There we go.” 

The door creaks open and he hears you tiptoe inside in your heels (wearing heels and tiptoeing—are two actions that are mutually exclusive, especially when you’re plastered). 

“Remember, we have to be quiet.  My husband waits for me to get home, we don’t want to wake him up.  He’s very nice, you see, but he can’t know you’re here.” 

Apparently, you have gotten home safely—with an extra guest who just bit at your tit.  And you’re being louder than your guest, who you keep telling to be quiet. 

“My husband is gonna be soooo mad.  He’s gonna be so mad at me, but once he sees how cute you are, I think he’ll forgive me.  He’ll understand.  I had to.  I just had to!” 

He hears rustling as he gets closer to the foyer, you fumbling around in the dark. 

“Stay there, don’t move, okay?  Stay, yeah?  You know that, don’t you?  Mummy will teach you if not.  Just stay right there.  Lemme get these damn heels off…” 

There’s an odd sound of something quickly clicking on hardwood floor that makes his eyebrows furrow, and then you gasp—

“Wait, don’t run—“ 

Bang! 

You groan loudly. 

Price flicks on the lights.

You’re lying face down on the rug.  You have one heel on.  The second heel is twisted around your other foot—what you fell over.  Your little dress is flipped up over your ass and your arms are outstretched. 

“You okay there, love?” John asks, torn between amusement and concern. You just groan.  “Sounded like you fell pretty hard.” 

“I tripped,” you say into the rug, sounding very sad. 

“You hurt?” he asks.  “Anything broken?”

You shake your head and curl up a little.  “I’ll just sleep here.” 

He laughs softly.  “Come on, none of that.” 

“It’s so comfortable.  I’ll just—“ 

There’s that clicking sound again and he’s almost startled by the abruptness of your movement.  You push yourself up with one arm, stretch the other out and fucking snatch the quick-moving little brown blob that’s moving toward you.  You pull it to your chest and cradle it, shielding it from John’s view. 

He blinks. “What you got there, love?” he asks after a second. 

“Nothing,” you say innocently. 

“Right.”  He crosses his arms, looking you over.  “Who were you talking to just now?” 

“No one,” you say quickly.  “Myself.” 

“Right,” John says again slowly. “Show me what you have.” 

You look over your shoulder up at him through your lashes, vision blurry.  “No.  You’re gonna be mad.” 

“Just show me.” 

“Promise you won’t be mad.” 

He sighs.  “I won’t be mad.”  You give him a look.  He sighs again.  You’re wasted—he can tell by your eyes. They’re unfocused and heavy.  “Promise.  Now show me.” 

You look down at whatever you’re holding to your chest.  “Okay,” you whisper (to your tits?), “you need to be very well-behaved, okay?  No biting, please.  Be very nice for Daddy so he will like you, okay?  Can you do that?  Yes?  Okay.” 

You glance up at John again over your shoulder and then turn yourself around in a very clumsy movement.  Then, as if presenting whatever it is like you’re Mufasa from the Lion King, you lift it up in the air toward your husband. 

It’s a puppy. 

It’s quiet. 

The little dog wriggles in your hands, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shakes.  He barks up at John, high pitched.  A small pink tongue lolls out of his mouth. 

It’s still quiet. 

You lower the dog a little so you can look up at John.  “You said you wouldn’t be mad!” 

“I’m not mad,” John says, sounding mad. 

“You look mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he says again.  “It’s just… dirty.” 

You gasp.  “He’s not dirty!” you exclaim, sounding offended on behalf of the dog.  You pull him to your chest.  “He’s just a little mangey, you see.  But that’s okay.  It can be fixed.  You know—they have medicine for that.  Or lotion, or whatever it is.  He’s very nice, John, I swear.  I know he’s a little… skrunkly but he’s very cute and—ow!  That’s my hair, no biting Mummy, please.” 

“You’re already calling yourself his Mummy?” he asks, bemused, eyebrow raised at you.  Yep.  You’re fucking wasted. 

“Yes, and you’re his Daddy.”  You hold the dog up again, this time facing him toward you.  “I think you’re very cute, puppy. You’ll grow on Daddy.  Just be very good for him, you can do that, can’t you?  Yes, you can.”  You whisper, as if John isn’t standing right there, “We’ll wear him down. Don’t worry.”

“I thought it was something else,” Price says. 

“What did you think it was?” you ask, not looking away from the dog.

“Where did you find it?” he asks instead of answering. 

This is much better than what his traitorous mind momentarily supplied.  You, cheating? As if.

How silly of him to even think that. For a moment, his stomach twists with the guilt of doubting you. He should have known better. 

Of course it’s this.  What else could it have been?

A puppy. 

A puppy! 

“Oh, hello, there.” 

You crouch down in your dress and heels and hold out your hand to the little puppy emerging from the bushes by the side of the road. 

“What are you doing here, all alone?  Come here, love, I won’t hurt you.  Come on, puppy, come to me.  Yeahhh, there we go.  Oh, look at you.  You’re so cute.  You’re all mangey, though.  Oh,” you say pitifully, “you little baby.” 

You’re drunk as fuck at 2AM on a Saturday in the summer, halfway through your walk home from the bar, squatting in the middle of a back road in England, about to cry while petting this puppy clumsily—but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He wags his tail and nips at your fingers. 

“Where’s your mummy?  You shouldn’t be out here all alone.  No collar… oh, goodness, what should I do with you?  I don’t want to leave you.  I’m not sure what to do.” 

He barks at you, high pitched. 

You nod at him seriously.  “Oh, yes, good point.”  He barks again.  “Mhm.  Yes, yes.  I thought so, too.  Exactly right.” 

He runs in a circle around you. 

“What are you, a month?  You should be with your Mum, you shouldn’t be all alone.  Oh, you little baby, you must be so scared.”  (He’s wagging his tail.) 

“It’s so cold.”  (It’s summer.) 

“Maybe you can come home with me?”  (Your husband would be so mad.) 

“Yes,” you decide.  “You’ll come home with me.”  (Your husband is going to be so mad.) 

That’s how you end up stumbling home with a puppy in your arms, rambling to him about yourself and your life. 

“Well, puppy, my name is Mrs. Price.  I’m from around here.  I live in a nice three bedroom house with my husband, I think you’ll like it very much.  It’s very cute, but that's mostly because I decorated it. He doesn’t understand feng shui, you see. You should see his office, puppy, it’s so bland. No taste for interior design.”

“Our house is only 10 more minutes away.  See that big tree there?  That means we only have 10 minutes left until we’re home.  I’m not great with street names, so I go by landmarks.”  He barks.  “Yes, yes, you get it.” 

“Anyway.  So, I’m—stop wiggling please, Mummy’s going to drop you—I’m married to a very nice man named John.  I love him very much.  You’ll like him, too,” you tell the dog seriously. "He’s very likable.  I like lots of things about him, puppy.  Actually," you say, "I like everything about him.” 

“He says I can’t have a dog, though.  He says it’s for my own good—booooo. Boo! But maybe we can sneak you in.  What do you think, puppy?  Should we do that?  I think we should do that.  We’ll have to be very quiet, though.  Very quiet.” 

“John waits for me to get home safely—he’s so nice, he’s so kind to me, I love him sooooo much—but we have to make sure not to wake him up. This is one of them—uh, covert operations. He’s very well-versed in those. My husband is very talented, puppy, he’s a military Captain. So we’ll have to be extra careful.”

And that’s how you end up trying to sneak into your own house and then trip over your shoe and fucking slam! your face on the rug. 

“Where did you find it?” John asks you as you sit on the floor after you presented the dog to him.

“On the way home from the bar, kind of my that big tree.” 

“By Notting Street?” 

You furrow your eyebrows.  “Notting Str—I dunno.  Maybe?  I just know the big tree.  The one with all the branches.” 

“‘The one with all the branches,’” he repeats, nodding slowly.  “Right.” 

“But he was there all alone so I took him home.  I couldn’t leave him, John, he’s so little.  And he’s very cute, look at his little ears?  And his little feet?  His toes are soooo small.  His little teeth are sharp, though—like a shark.  Fuckin’ hurt, he almost bit my tit off.” 

“Yeah, I heard.” 

“You heard?  Oh.  I was trying to be quiet.  I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

He smiles at you.  “I know.” 

You smile back. 

“Give me the dog.” 

You frown.  “No.” 

“The dog, please.” 

“No.”  You hold him tighter.  “You’ll take him from me.” 

“Well,” he says, “yes.” 

You sigh heavily.  “Be gentle.”  You hand him to John and he takes him in one hand and holds him out, frowning, as if it’s offended him. 

A puppy. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask hopefully. 

He glances at you and then back to the puppy and then back to you and then back to the puppy.  “No.” 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“But…”  You trail off and he looks back down at you.  You’re starting to tear up. 

“Oh—love, don’t cry.” 

“He’s so little and soft and nice and he’s all mangey and he’s all alone and he’s just a little baby and…” 

“Okay, okay, darling, we can keep him.” 

(By that, he means you’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober, and by ‘talk about it’, he means, ‘no.’) 

“Really?!” you gasp.  

The way your face fucking lights up makes John pause.  For a second, he almost feels like he lost his balance.

“Oh, John, really?  Oh, thank you so much!  Puppy, did you hear that?  Daddy said yes!  See, he’s very nice, just like I told you, remember?  He’s very nice and kind and he’s very handsome and I love him very much, and I—“ 

“The dog can’t understand you.” 

“You don’t know that,” you say defensively.

He looks down at you. “Right.”

You stare up at him, standing over you as you sit on the floor.  “How are you handsome even from this angle?”  You frown deeper.  “Stupid face,” you mutter. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Let’s get you up.” 

“I’m so comfortable.” 

“Hand.”  He tucks the dog under his arm and extends his other hand toward you.  He crooks his long, thick fingers at you.  “Now.” 

You look between his hand and his face, and then slip your hand into his. 

“Good girl.”

He fucking yanks you up and, in one movement that’s somehow graceful, bends down and throws you over his shoulder. 

He, naturally, slaps your ass and you squeal.  “Hey!!” 

You kick your feet (still with only one heel on) and he laughs, resting his hand on your hip, heavy fingers digging into the plush of your butt, as he makes his way up the stairs with you on his shoulder and the dog in his hand. 

Gently, he drops you onto the bed and you fall back with an oof! and stare up at him. 

“Well,” Price drawls, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

You grin.  “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.”  He takes off your shoe (singular), your dress, and your makeup as you hold the dog, curled up, on your chest. 

“You’re so good to me, John,” you say, your eyes closed.  “I’m so lucky.  I don’t know how I got so lucky.  And, you, puppy,” you mumble, petting him slowly, “you’re so lucky, too.  You’re about to have the best Daddy in the world.  He’s so good to us.” 

“‘Puppy’ is asleep,” John says.  “And,” he adds, scooping him up in one hand, “puppy is not sleeping in the bed.” 

You just groan, too tired and drunk to argue. 

He holds the dog out in the air again, turning him around and upside down to examine him.  He yips and wriggles in his hands, but John shushes him.  “Hush now.  Your Mummy is asleep.”  He shakes his head and sighs.  “What am I going to do with you?” 

He takes the dog to the bathroom and puts him down on the floor. His paws slip a little on the cold tile. John puts his hands on his hips, staring down at the dog.  “I can’t believe this.”

He reaches over to turn on the heated floor (which he got installed for you), throws a fluffy towel onto the ground (also for you), and says to the dog, “You are so, so damn lucky I love your Mummy.” 

In the morning, despite John Price’s best efforts to say no to you, you end up convincing him to keep the dog. He’s a military Captain but the pleading of his wife is enough to make him crumble.

The happiness on your face when he finally says yes, makes him wonder why he ever said no in the first place.

note: thank you for reading! this is my first time posting in years–and in a totally new fandom. thank you for your patience and your support. let me know your thoughts! merry christmas!

posted 12.26.2024. revised 02.17.2025.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.

[motomamita]

fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

[hanasnx]

“ PROMISE, BABY, I’LL TAKE YOU TO HEAVEN IF YOU WANT IT ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: writing a scene that was in my dream last night. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ dry humping ノ how clark gets you to forgive him ノ hair pulling (m receiving) ノ dry fuck mention ノ exhibitionism/voyeurism: caught during.

getting annoyed with CLARK KENT for not spending enough time with you so you act out. it takes him a second to realize you’re mad at him so he hears you out, and then gets cheeky. puts on that kent charm, wears that famous smile, impishly draws you in into his arms. he embraces you, tucks your head under his chin. you’re so desperate for his attention you’re entranced for a moment, melting into him. you close your eyes, you feel his muscle underneath his clothes, you feel small next to his big body, he smells so good—and then you get wise. “hey.” you exclaim indignantly, pushing off him. he wears an expression that looks like he knows what he was doing manipulating you. “you can’t just act like we’re back to normal.”

“i know, i know, i’m sorry.” he replies in a drilling tone of voice. he doesn’t mean it. yet he’s pulling you in again, snaking those arms around your waist while you arch away from him. he stoops, stretching a grin onto his face as he’s now eye-level with you.

“you’re not sorry at all.” your gaze narrows as you accuse him, backing up and taking him with you. both of your feet shuffle together hazardously. he trips you, and you fall backwards onto his bed, he lands on top of you, pinning you with his weight. seizing the opportunity, his mouth latches onto your neck, toying with you while he’s sucking on your pulse point. you can’t stay mad at him and giggle at the same time, getting ticklish and trying to fend off your boyfriend while he’s overpowering you.

his hands get frisky, his hips starts to grind, his sharp canines scrape against your neck while the fight in you is dwindling. “clark—!” you keen in a scold, but it sounds more like a breathy moan, and the heel of your hand bangs against his broad shoulder. his wet lips slide along the column of your neck as he mouths it, and you claw into his sweater, lashes fluttering as pleasant tingles send a shiver down your spine. before you know it, you’ve begun to pull him closer, a hard outline becoming decipherable in his pants, rutting against the inside of your thigh. that wide body of his curls around you, blanketing you as you spread your legs so his hips can slot in more comfortably. both of his large hands slide between the mattress and you, cupping your ass to draw you into him.

that hard rod finds its place in the shallow divot of your slit, and he rubs his shaft against you with every surge. the head of him bumps your clit, and when he can gracefully grind up, the underside of his cock slides against your little bud in one steady motion. the sounds that spill out of you change, evolving into a longing plea as he asks for forgiveness through his body. a wet spot blooms in the crotch of your panties, yearning for a relief that’s not confined by his jeans. his fingers dig in, kneading the globes of your backside in his excitement. he’s set a slow and deliberate pace, but you can feel the need within him pulsing through his every movement. his cock twitches, and you’re so close you can tell it knows where it wants to go, seeking you out like the nose of a bloodhound.

his tip catches on the give of your hole, interrupting the streamlined grind, making his hips jerk back so as to protect himself. he whimpers into your neck, a pitiful little sound that conveys just how much he wanted to plow through fabric and dry fuck you. if he’d just pushed a little harder, he could’ve been that much closer to feeling your silken walls. your hand flies to the hair at the nape of his neck, tangling in the raven locks to squeeze. you can feel his grin stretch against your skin, his pearly white teeth and his moistened lips and his handsome dimples. just imagining his smile makes you weak in the knees, falling limp under him.

“you like me again?” he questions, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder.

“oh, go to hell.” you shoot back, but it lacks conviction, breathy from his ministrations. for just one single second, you feel proud. here’s this hot, big, romantic oaf of a farm boy, obsessed with making you feel good, with a smile that could kill, who saves people… and he’s on top of you. you’ve known plenty of girls that would maim for this kind of opportunity, for clark kent superman or not to be at their beck and call. yet he’s here for you, wantonly pleading for you to just let him in. you have something no one else does.

“oh, my god! i’m so sorry—uh, i’ll come back later—“ the humiliated voice of chloe snaps you out of your stupor, both you and clark fixing yourselves up to see the blonde head of hair retreat out of his doorway, humiliated. it was no question what you two were doing, bodies tangled together like this, and you and him exchange a brief eye conversation after you realize what your friend just caught you doing.

[satoruan]

AITA FOR WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen

( TW ) f!reader, dark + explicit content, dubcon/noncon, blowjob, fingering, cheating, Suguru’s part will make more sense if you read Gojo’s, unrealistic anal, sex toys, coercion, spanking.

Featuring: Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Ryomen Sukuna (yes, again) 

an: part two (more like 1.5) because my other one got so much love and I wanted to write all my babies <3  This one is a LOT darker than the first one bc I love testing my limits. 

PART 1 

r/forcinghertosuckme posted by u/Toji_Fushiguro 

“W-what?” You stare at the man. “Suck me off right now or 'm going to throw you off the side of the mountain.” “Please--” “I’m not going to say it again girl, and I’m not swayed by begging.” He stares down at your shaking figure. You look at him and then behind you at the drop. You can’t even see the bottom. You wouldn’t survive that. You shake even harder. You have no choice you think as you drop down to your knees, you're so close to the edge that your feet dangle off the edge. “Pull it out, little girl.” The big man with dark hair who dragged you to the forest grunts out. Your hands are shaking as you unbuckle his pants and pull his pants down enough for his cock to jump out. You cry when you see the size of it, how are you going to suck something that huge. The tears you were holding in started to fall. “Enough with the tear's girl, they only make me harder—now put my cock into that pouty mouth, you don’t want me to put it in for you.”  You grab the base of his cock. Your hand doesn’t fully wrap around it. You bring your other hand up to fully cover his shaft. You start to move your hands up and down his shaft as you cry. “Use your fuckin’ mouth, feels like ‘m rubbing sandpaper on my dick with those dry hands. Get my cock wet.” He rolls his eyes, griping your chin with one hand, the other grabbing the back of your head. He pulls your mouth to his cock. “That’s it—no teeth or I'll shove you off the cliff with a mouth full of cum.”  Toji thrusts into your mouth, you take your hands off his shaft and hold onto his pants. He’s thrusting so hard you feel the rocks underneath you start to break off. You cry harder as you choke on his cock, trying to ignore the tingles in your pussy and the ache in your breast. 

r/fuckingmyfriendsgirl posted by u/Geto_Suguru 

You wake up to the feeling of fingers circling your clit. You smile and lean into your boyfriend's big chest. “Mm--Satoru,” You squirm when you feel light kisses on your shoulder. You lift your leg to his hip. He rubs your entrance before slipping two fingers into your wet cunt. You moan, his fingers feel thicker than normal, not as long. You chalk it up to your sleepy mind. “Want a kiss Toru,” You grind your ass into his cock as he finger fucks you. “Gimme a kiss baby.” You turn your head with puckered lips and freeze. Suguru grins from behind you. You gasp and try to pull away. He grabs your neck with his free hand, trapping you. “Stop! What are you doing Sugu, where's Toru?” You scream, twisting your head when he tries to kiss you. “No!” “Oh, don’t be like this y/n, don't act like you don’t cum on my cock every time Satoru is away on a trip.” The fingers on your jaw tighten and he bites your bottom lip. You struggle before you eventually give in. Satoru grins into the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You taste blood. “W-where’s Satoru?” You cry. “Out, went to go get you treats because you said you didn’t feel good.” He whispers into your mouth. Your heart clenches. He wanted to make you happy and you're here cumming on his best friend's fingers. “Stop Sugu, t-this isn’t right.” You moan when the hand inside you curls up into your G-spot. “Then maybe he shouldn’t have made us fuck that one time, it was like he was asking for this to happen.” 

r/slippingitinherass posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna

“Look at this fucking ass,” Sukuna smirks as he watches you slam your hips down his cock. He smiles and twists the anal plug he coerced you to wear this morning. You whine. “Love this ass s’much.” He slaps your raw ass. You scream and grip the pillow. You wouldn't be surprised if after this is done your ass the busied and bloody. “I wanna fuck this ass,” he pulls the anal plug out of your ass “I am gonna fuck this ass.” He pulls his cock out of your pussy. You clench around nothing. “N-not today ‘Kuna. Put it back in my pussy.” You whine grinding back on his dick. He leans to grab you by the neck. “No, we're gonna do what I want, and I want to fuck your ass.” “But--” “No little one, you’re here to satisfy my needs now stay still or it’s going hurt.” He pushes your head into the pillow. You whine. “Good girl.” He straightens back up before grabbing his soaked cock and bringing the tip to your puckered ass. “W-what about lube ‘Ryo?” You swallow, tensing up when he starts to shove his cock in. “Gave you a chance to wear a bigger plug this morin’ but you wanted to be a crybaby ‘bout it. This is punishment.” He answers as he shoves another inch into you. You cry out into the pillow. “Now next time I tell you to do something you’ll know I'm doing it for your own good.”   

[ink-stainedkiss]

Hugs & Kisses

MDNI!

Synopsis: All of the Jjk men love Valentine’s day, but they all like it for a different reason.

Including: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Ryomen Sukuna,Toji Fushiguro,

A/N: sooo ik it’s been 4 days since valentine’s but let’s just close our eyes and pretend im not late. I got sick while on my trip and these past 2 days i’ve been stuck in bed. Sorry for the delay, forgive me 🙏🥲 also am i insane for writing this much on my first ever smut post??? Idk i guess i got way to invested, but i hope you guys like it💕

Word Count: 3.2 k

Contents: Smut!, p in v, oral [m! & f! receiving], doggy, mating press, breeding k!, fingering, cowgirl, Sukunas stomach mouth ;)), light sub & dom, light dom & sub, crying, overstim, teasing, dirty talk, orgasm denying,

Satoru Gojo loves Valentine’s day because he’s able to show you off proudly, drowning you in presents, kisses, and candy. Pda is his specialty, but it really shows when the day winds down and he has you all alone.

He’ll be so sweet, dragging you into every store, buying everything you touch, and not even blinking as he swipes his card. However, the loverboy facade drops the moment you enter your shared apartment. He will slam his lips onto yours, leading you blindly into the bedroom as he continues to explore your mouth. Clothes are discarded on the floor and Satoru is frenzied to get you on top of him.

Mumbling sweet words for only you to hear, he lifts your shirt over your head, noting the lacy blue bra you decided to wear. That only makes him more ravenous and it’s off in an instant. His tongue swirled around your mouth, both of his hands cupping your breast, grunting as your clothed cunt rubbed against his bulge. You had him trapped between your legs, but Satoru wouldn’t want it any other way.

He pulled away from the feverish kiss, staring up at you with a look full of deep affection,”How did I get so lucky to have you?” He whispered, now holding onto your face,”Are you getting sappy while I'm on top of you right now?” You joked, raising a brow. He chuckled, planting small kisses on your cheeks,”Is a man not allowed to express his love?”

Something darker flashes over your eyes and you lean in,”How about you express your love by letting me ride you?” Satoru flashed his pearly teeth and his boxers were off in the blink of an eye. He watched you as you hovered over his cock, smirking to himself, but it quickly dissolves into a thin line as he hisses out.

You must be soaking since you practically slid onto him,”Holy s-shit, you’re, hah-sooo tight.” You guys have fucked multiple times, so it’s not like this was a shocker to Satoru, still he basically felt like a virgin when you swallowed him up. Your walls were squeezing him so good, he could probably bust right here. Though that would ruin his cool-guy persona. Again, that thought died once you started to rock against his hips.

A shaky pant pushed past Satoru’s lips and he threw his head back onto the pillows,”Fuck,ngh-you’re killin’ me.” His words didn’t reach you and you continued to bounce on his cock. With a loud moan, you strained your neck back and put your hands on Satoru’s large thighs. A ring of precum began to surround the base of Satoru’s cock as you lifted up and down, creating lewd noises. You picked up your speed, making the man below you grow louder.

“S-slow, mfg-fuckkk, slow down,” He slurred desperately, though he didn’t mean it. He would probably start crying if you actually did. Satoru became more needy and started to buck up, meeting you halfway to slam his hard cock into your cunt.

Satoru’s cock twitched inside of you and you could hear his stifled whines,”Baby,hngh b-baby m’cumminggg!” He sprayed ropes of his cum into you, pairing your insides, but you weren’t done yet, so even as he squeaked and squirmed under you, you didn’t stop. Satoru’s hands had fallen off your waist, now laying next to his head. You were fully in control, riding him like the night wouldn’t end.

Tears slipped past Satoru’s eyelids, facing you with a pathetic look,”S’too much, mhg-fuckk,” He trembled,”Baby, ngh-ohhh shit. I c-can’t, I can't,” You gave him an evil smile, not pausing your movements whatsoever,”You’re the strongest right?”

Satoru gasped as you slammed down on his cock, but nodded quickly despite his weakened state. You leaned in close, your breath fanning his ear,” Then you are gonna fuckin’ take me like the strongest.”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Suguru Geto loves Valentine’s day because after a full day of gifts and shopping, he sees you in a breathtaking set of lingerie.

He loved them all, each color complimenting you. Dark purple was his favorite, for an obvious reason. Suguru couldn’t wait a second before tacking you to the bed and tearing the thin fabric off. You’ll complain about the ruined outfit, but it’ll be your last thought as Suguru quietly apologizes into your skin, his soft lips gliding down your thighs.

“I’ll get you a new one,My love.” One he most definitely will deface the same way this one was. Geto chuckles at how squeamish and fidgety you are. You were never one for teasing and he knows it, but the desperate need on your face is all the pleasure Geto needs.

It’s a bit crazy how sweet Geto acts, kissing you, saying small praises, only to deny your orgasm. You were so so close, practically riding his face, but just as you were about to come loose, he lifted his tongue from your cunt. A gasp leaves your mouth and Geto just laughs,”I wanna have a bit of fun with you, so just try and hold it a bit longer.”

He says so calmly, as if he’s not rubbing your clit with excruciatingly tiny circles. That’s the least of your worries as he aligns himself with your achy hole,”Just relax.” His reminder doesn’t help and he slides himself into your pussy agonizingly slow. His cock immediately fills you up, forcing a pained moan from you. Geto placed his large hand against your stomach as he grinds into you, making the feeling ten times more pleasant. It was torture.

Geto bends down, placing soft and teasing kisses to your neck. Your panting as he picks up his pace. You try to focus on your other senses: the slapping of skin, Geto’s faint moans next to your ear, his hands gripping on your waist, the smell of sex in the room. Sight was out of the question since you were forcing your eyes closed. Pornographic moans racked from your chest as Geto reached his hand toward your pussy and rubbed your clit.

Your back arched off the bed. Your scream being stifled by your lip in between teeth,”Fuck! Mm’ close-mghh” Groaning loudly, Geto watched your desperate state. Your body jolted and jerked against his hold and it was obvious you were close. He had admired you too long and you stared up at him with water-filled eyes,”Geto-nngh-pleaseee let me c-cum.” The words came out like a cry, your voice scratchy and weak from moaning so viciously.

Geto carried your cheek gently, a hint of mischief in his eye as he debated on seeing just how long you could deny yourself release, but thankfully, he wasn’t a monster,”Go ahead, my love.”

The fire that pooled in your abdomen finally exploded. Chills ran up your skin and you let out a shattering cry. You screamed out Geto’s name as white light flashed over your closed eyes. By the time you opened your eyes, you were breathless. Chest heaving, you saw Geto staring down at the mess you made. The pool of pleasure below you was evident and you could only wince as Geto slid his cock in and out of your flooded cunt. The sounds were obscene, but it only fueled Geto.

You met his gaze with a tired look, body still shaking from the intense orgasm. Though Geto was far from done, it was clear from the spark of sinfulness in his eyes,”How many times do you think I could make you do that again?”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Kento Nanami loves Valentine’s day because he plans the most extravagant date and spoils you rotten. He also fucks you like it’s your last night on earth together.

Since he spoils you the entire day, you return the favor by jerking him off properly. Taking his hefty cock in your hands, you watch as his eyes practically roll to the back of his head,”Fuck-just like that.” His hips buck into your warm palms, craving the friction, but if you are feeling brave, you pull away, leaving him with nothing.

Vulnerable whines sneak their way through his lips, but Kento will cover them with small coughs or grunts, opting to plead ask kindly for you to continue,”Honey, god- would you please keep touching me?” The slight worry in his eyes is enough to make you break, going right back to his cock. His grip on the sheets is iron tight, but he reaches for your head when you begin to take him into your mouth.

Kento uses your mouth to get off, though he adores you, he can’t help to submit to the utter pleasure you're giving him. So much to the point he craves to hear more strained moans and gags as he fucks into your mouth. When he cums, he’s not surprised to see you have swallowed every drop of his sperm. Your hair is a mess, salvia glosses over your lips, your cheeks are flushed, but you have never looked prettier.

Valentine’s day is always the day he thinks he’s ready for a kid. He would have you in a mean mating press, your freshly bought set of nails marking his skin. Between his battered breaths and choked out moans, he’ll babble on about how pretty you’d look with a baby bump. You're too lost in his furious pounding to question it, tears streaming down your face, and you don’t hesitate to agree.

“Gunna fuck a baby into you Sweetheart,” He grunts with each snap of his hips. It makes you gasp, but he silences your shock with another thrust. He abuses your g-spot over and over, the knot in your stomach tightening to its limit.

When you finally cum all over Kento’s cock, he doesn’t want to stop. He continues to bully your overstimulated pussy, rough thumb circling your clit and becoming more wild by your orgasm. By the time your high has calmed down, Kento is using his large fingers to gather any of cum that spilled from your fluttering cunt and sliding it back into you. A soft whine escapes your mouth, but Kento shushes you gently,”I hope our baby has your eyes, Honey.”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Ryomen Sukuna loves Valentine’s day because loves the way your eyes sparkle at the new jewelry set he got you.

The set is priceless. (since he most likely slaughtered a leader back then and stole it from them, but the gesture is still sweet) He isn’t quite sure what the purpose of this holiday is, but he knows that by the end of the night you’ll be under him, so he doesn’t mind.

It was a bit romantic how he forced you to strip but said to keep the beautiful diamonds around your neck. They were covered in jewels, a blood red ruby being the center charm. You couldn’t help but think that was the reason Sukuna gifted it to you. Though, that’s not on your mind as you ride his stomach’s tongue.

Your hands are scrambling to find balance atop his chest,while his hands are firmly placed on your hips. His large tongue delves into your soaked pussy, finding new spots to tease with the hot organ. Sukuna continues to giggle below you, watching closely as your face screws in the utmost pleasure. He barely has to do anything, letting his adorable girlfriend try and take him whole.

You have already came on his tongue twice, but the feeling is far too good to stop. Your moans are like a symphony to Sukunas ears and as you grind yourself onto his stomach, he watches the light glisten over the large ruby hanging from your neck. He can see the saliva gathering in your mouth, but before it can fall out, he lifts your head with one hand, forcing you to look at him. You swallow harshly, still bouncing on his abs, which were wet with your juices and sweat.

“You said you could take it.” Sukuna restates, smirking at your fucked-out look,”Were you lying to me?” The words come out like a purr and Sukuna had to grip your jaw tighter to make you speak,”I-i can. fuckkk,” short hiccups interrupted your babbling as Sukuna’s tongue reached your cervix. A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you slammed your eyes shut.

His large tongue curled inside of you, forcing a scream from you. Your vision darkened and your mind grew fuzzy. All you could feel was the tightness in your stomach growing so big until it washed over you like electricity. Your orgasm came like a flash, making you quake even as it slipped away. Sukuna swallowed your juices in an instant. Well his stomach did. The anatomy wasn’t important since he reached out a hand, swiping between your folds and admiring the stickers strands on his fingers. He placed his index and middle in his mouth, sucking your cum off his fingers with a satisfied hum,”Just as sweet as ever.”

You were weak and delirious, falling on top of Sukuna’s sticky chest. He mended your flesh, focusing mainly on your ass, but the short massage felt nice. Sadly, the sweet moment faded as his tongue exited your dripping cunt, and you felt him lift you up, rubbing his hard tip against your fluttering lips. Your eyebrows creased in a small plea, but Sukuna only clicked his tongue,”Did I say we were done?”

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Toji Fushiguro loves Valentine’s day because he gets to splurge his checks on his favorite girl, though it’s not as expensive, it still makes your heart flutter. Though he doesn’t mind when the decorations of balloons and rose petals are ultimately destroyed after he pounces on you.

It’s the same every year. Toji wants to be romantic, dropping his usual erotic style of sex just for the holiday, but the switch is almost animalistic the way he turns into a beast after just a few thrusts. You will be laying on the bed, letting out soft and delicate moans as Toji ruts into you, but in the blink of an eye, he will have you face down ass up. Your back is so arched it almost hurts, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t going to end up begging him to fuck you like this.

Toji pounded his cock into you with brutal force, ripping a choked moan from your throat. A beefy arm was wrapped around your hips and you could feel the fact that Toji was bulging in your stomach. He laid against your back, his hot breath fanning on your ear as he spoke,”Happy Valentine’s day, Doll.” He was already so lost in your cunt and Toji was pretty shocked to get out a full sentence.

Your gummy walls swallowed him whole, practically milking him where he kneeled. He groaned as he pulled out half way, a chorus of wet fluids and cum sounding out together,”God, do you hear her? She’s just begging me to fill her up.” A pathetic whine slipped from your lips and you put your face into the pillows as an escape.

A ‘tsk’ noise sounded from Toji and you felt his large hand card through your hair and yank you back up. He pulled you up hard enough to the point you were both kneeling, his arm now keeping you upright,”Aw, don’t get shy now,” He thrusted up into you, making you cry out,”Doll, we’re just gettin’ started.”

His cock rested inside of you, twitching and completely stuffing you. You opened your mouth, but only small moans and whines fell out. Toji hummed teasingly, gripping your hair and making your head fall onto your shoulder,”Gotta use your words. I don’t know what you want, if you don’t speak Baby,” You were so embarrassed, but so turned on.

“Ngh,plea-shit.” You were tearing up, so distressed to make your boyfriend fuck you,”Please, f-fuck me Toji.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

⏦ﾟ♡︎

Choso Kamo loves Valentine’s day because he gets to spend the whole time cuddling and showering you in affection. The chocolate covered strawberries and candy taste good, but what tastes better is your soaking cunt on his tongue.

Your hand is gripping onto Choso’s dark hair like a life-line, vision going in and out as he devours you. It’s somewhat your fault for making him so needy for you. You both had been out in public, having no time for privacy, and now that you two were home, Choso wasn’t going to let you go. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, dragging you closer and closer to his hot mouth. Choso eats you out all the time, but there was a certain lust that flooded his veins when he was denied of you for too long.

Your first orgasm was like white lighting, cracking down through your core and silencing the world around you. You only gained some grip of reality when Choso slurped your juices quickly, his tongue flicking over your puffy clit occasionally and making you jolt. However, you knew you were in for a ride when his hold on you grew tighter and he rose from his place between your legs,” One more? C’mon, Sweetheart, it is a Holiday.”

His mouth and chin was covered in your slick. There was a small cloud of desire that blocked his vision and before you could give a shaky answer, he was already sucking on your clit. Yelping, you wrapped your thighs around Choso’s head, making him groan. The sound reverberated through your cunt and forced another moan from you.

By the time your second orgasm came, you were already gone. You were shaking, mumbling nonsense, and overstimulated. Each swipe of Choso’s tongue makes you gasp. Choso drank up your fluid like a man lost in the desert, not wasting a single drop. Tears welled in your eyes as he dragged his tongue flat along your lips, making you whine,”c-cho, please-mfg,so good,” Tears slip down your face, your words barely making it too Choso’s ears. (which may or may not because your thighs were covering them)

He looked up again, but slid two of his fingers past your puffy folds,”What was your favorite part about today?” He questioned innocently, as if he wasn’t fingering you. You let out a gasp as his lanky finger grazed over your g-spot, but left just as quick,”mghhh, I-i liked the,” gasping as he kitten licked your clit,”The flowers!” You squeaked

“I liked the f-flowers, ohh fuck, and-hnghh, the dinner!” You yelped the last part as Choso dragged a long stripe on your cunt. He hummed against your heat, making you jolt,”I liked spending time with you today, it was nice seeing you smile so much.” Your teeth grated against each other as you nodded, craving more of Choso. You tried shifting yourself closer to Choso’s tongue as he gave your cunt occasional licks, but either he didn’t get the hint or was ignoring them, he didn’t give you what you wanted.

“I also liked the restaurant we visited, it was super-“

“Choso!” You interrupted him. He perked up, curiosity in his eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut, completely caving to Choso’s will,” Please. Just fuck me.” That time Choso finally understood, clearer than ever.

[yerchokito]

contents — teenager gojo, gojo being a rebel, suguru mention, underaged drinking (bad gojo), slightly suggestive (only kissing), gojo being a freak

notes! — having gojo as a childhood friend when he was a bratty tween would be rough.. not proofread.. again.

childhood friend!satoru who you met by bumping into him, literally. stupidly tripping over some rock and knocking your head into some another kid. seeing him shaking his uniquely head of white hair—scowling at you. ha, it makes you laugh at how bratty of a kid he was, a far contrast to the satoru of today.

childhood friend!satoru who you are now stuck to the hip to! at first, it was hard to meet up with him due to his so called ‘training’, eh whatever that was. but that doesn’t stop him from coming to see you!

childhood friend!satoru who you have definitely been a bad influence on. he became more.. rebellious, running away more, staying with you until the crack of dawn—heck, at 14 he even stole a wine bottle for you both, wanting to ‘drink the night away!’…let’s just say it ended up with satoru hanging upside down in a tree by his pants. (lol you still have a pic of that)

childhood friend!satoru who’s grown nearly 2 feet taller than you, wearing stupid glasses and attending a fancy private school now, pfft rich bastard.

childhood friend!satoru who yaps away about his new school— he’s made new friends (thankfully, you never thought he would), suguru geto who you learn to be one of them. ‘suguru’s pretty cool.’ huh, satoru complimenting someone for once? ‘not as cool as me though,’ ah, there’s that petty guy you love so much.

childhood friend!satoru who comes to you one night, holding bottles on bottles of alcohol. how he got them? you never know with this idiot. he barges into like he owns the place, whining as he collapses on your bed. ‘i haf myf life’ he mumbles against your pillow. dramatically crying into it—eugh.

childhood friend!satoru who you get absolutely wasted with. light-weight-satoru never needs much— so he’s extra whipped up with liquor. you both are so wasted that you end up kissing! and not those pathetic little ‘mwahs’ nonono— like tongue, teeth, swapping spit kind of kisses. hand kneading at your hip n all! the freak decides to drink and kiss it into your mouth, giggling when you swallow the burning liquid and give him a disgusted face.

childhood friend!satoru who you wake up next to— the white-haired idiot wiggling his eyebrows at you and smirking like a dope. puckering his lips for a kiss only to get a mouthful of your pillow. you hate this freak.

[wandanatrules]

fic idea (sorry if this is bad, I'm using the translator because English is not my native language)

Wanda or Natasha (maybe both if you can) wanted to have a child with the reader, but then they got divorced and the reader was pregnant, the reader complained by calling saying that she was going to take Wanda/Nat to court for refusing to pay child support, until the reader decided to go to her house and got pregnant again.

Fool Me Once

Hi guys! I really liked this request, because I had been wanting to write something with divorced Nat. I hope that this does this justice. I feel bad for Wanda in this, so my next fic I am hoping to do something with wanda x nat. Please continue to send requests! And as usual I didn’t feel like proofreading it :(

(this is not my gif)

word count: 2.5k

paring: g!p beefy nat x divorced fem reader

warnings: natasha has a penis, infidelity, pretty angsty, arguing, foul language, cursing, name calling, smut, voyuerism, penetration, cunnilingus, (let me know if I missed anything!).

“Oh baby you are taking me so good, if you keep moving your hips like that I’m gonna blow. But I bet you want me to breed your tight hole. Is that right?”

”Yes please, Natasha I want to have your babies I need your seed so bad!”

4 years later…

 “Natasha, this is the last time I'm leaving you a message! I have tried to be civil but you leave me no choice! Not visiting your daughter for 5 months or paying any child support isn’t gonna cut it anymore. Since you refuse to care for your child I will see you in court!”, You said after hanging up the phone and frustratingly throwing it onto the couch.

The noise startled your 3 year old daughter and she came into the room to see what happened. “Mommy are you okay? Was that mama, is she coming back to us soon?”

”Yes everything is okay baby. It’s okay I miss mama too, we are gonna see her soon.” You said kneeling down to her eye level and plastering a fake smile on your face to reassure her. 

Two weeks later it was the day of the court hearing and the first time you had seen Natasha since you had found her with Wanda, 5 months ago.

When you first started dating Natasha, she insisted that you quit your job and become her housewife. Since she was a CEO of a multimillion dollar company there was really no need for you to work and considering you thought that she was going to be your forever you took her up on the offer. But now that you were a single mother with no support system and very little money for childcare, it was hard for you to keep a stable job and provide for your child. 

Natasha on the other hand was doing very good for herself. According to her facebook, that you definitely didn’t stalk, her and Wanda expecting a child together. How could she do this to you, I mean the divorce was yet to even be finalized. Her business was booming and she had bought a new house for her new girl and their child to be. 

“Mama! I missed you!”, Your daughter said escaping your arms to run into the arms of your ex lover.

Not wanting to soil your daughter’s opinion of her mother, you told her that she was on an important trip and she was too busy to talk on the phone. 

“Why hello there babygirl I missed you so much! You got so tall honey!”, She said while picking her up and twirling her around. 

“Mommy look mama is back, aren’t you so happy!”, Your daughter said beckoning you over to greet your ex.

“Hello, y/n you look well.”, She said with that godforsaken smirk. The same smirk that got you pregnant. You couldn’t lie she looked great in the pant suit she was wearing, you always loved her in her dominating attire. 

“Natasha”, You said with a curt head nod, “As do you.” 

“Come on baby, you can sit with my friend Wanda, while me and mommy go inside and have a long talk.” Natasha said before you seethingly saw her walk your child across the courthouse to the bench that Wanda was patiently sitting at. 

“After taking all of the information presented today into consideration, I have my verdict. I rule that the defendant, Mrs. Natasha Romanoff, is ordered to pay the plaintiff, Mrs. Y/N Romanoff, at least $600 a month and is required to have the child in her custody at least every other weekend starting today. This is a temporary verdict that will be re-examined for permanency when the divorce is finalized.

 “Okay honey, are you excited to have a sleepover with mama this weekend?”, Natasha said, holding your daughter in her arms.

 “Are we finally going back to our old house? Can I sleep in bed with you and mommy again?” Your daughter said excitedly, with eyes full of hope.

 “No baby for now on me and mama aren’t going to be living together anymore. You are gonna be with only one of us at a time, but it’s okay because we love you so much. We are gonna go home and pack you a bag so that I can drop you off with mama and her friend Wanda for the weekend later tonight.” 

Knock Knock Knock…

It was two hours later when you arrived at Natasha’s new house for the first time. Your daughter fell asleep in the car, so you carefully grabbed her and her stuff before walking up the driveway of the huge house and knocking on the door.

 “Hey y/n.”, Natasha said after opening up the door. She was wearing a white wife beater that showcased her broad shoulders and the pump in her biceps, indicated that she had just finished working out. You looked down and bit your lip when your eyes captured her built veiny quads in the shortest gym shorts you have ever seen in your life. 

“Here she’s sleeping, hopefully for another hour or so.”, You said while carefully handing her over. 

“Okay stay here for a second, i’ll take her and her stuff to her room, but I need to talk to you. You can sit over here.” She said pointing to the couch. 

You sat down wondering what she could possibly have to say to you after all the hurt she has caused you. 

“So where is your baby mama?”, You asked as she returned down the stairs.

”She is staying with her parents for the weekend. I didn’t want to confuse our daughter. But I wanted to ask you to take me back, baby please.”

”Not this again Natasha! How do you expect me to take you back when your girlfriend is 7 months pregnant, but we separated only 5 months ago!! You cheated on me! I try to do a nice thing and surprise you with dinner at your office and I walk in on you balls deep in that whore!” You exclaimed angrily. 

“Baby you are my wife, she doesn’t mean anything to me. I just want to make sure my child is okay, that is the only reason I keep her around. I promise.” She said reaching out and putting her hand on your thigh. 

“Then tell me why did you cheat on me, especially with Wanda from your office. I always told you she had a crush on you, but you waved me off. What does she have that I don’t?” 

“I don’t know, y/n I was craving some closeness. Things were different between us ever since you had the baby. We barely had sex and she was showing me all of this attention I just couldn’t resist. But I didn’t mean to get her pregnant. She told me she was on birth control and she ripped the condom off me, I think she was trying to baby trap me. I even offered to pay for her abortion when I found out she was pregnant, but she wouldn’t budge. Listen, I have to do what’s right for my baby, but I promise you things will be different if you take me back. I am done with her. I will pay for her to have an apartment, so my baby isn’t homeless and I want you and our daughter to move in here with me or we can move somewhere else, whatever you want baby.” At this point it seemed as though she was begging considering she found herself on her knees in front of you, looking up with her hands on her waist. 

“But why did you abandon our daughter, we called you everyday since the separation and you never picked up.” You said avoiding her eye contact.

 “I was so ashamed of myself, y/n. I couldn’t see you or hear your voice without reminding me of everything I lost. I didn’t want our daughter to think badly about me. Y/n I am so sorry and I can’t live without you, I need you to take me back.” She pleaded again on her knees.

 “Show me how much you really love me then.”, You said leaning down to whisper in the ear of the woman in front of you, before playing with in between your teeth. 

“Are you sure?”, She moaned looking up at you, watching you nod before standing up and grabbing you by the waist, hoisting you over her shoulder in the same motion, running up the stairs. 

“Wait, let's make sure she is still sleeping.”, You said, causing Natasha to stop and quietly open the door to check on your still sleeping daughter. 

“Okay all good let’s go.”, She said in a hurry, practically running down the hallway urging to soothe her hardened erection. Reaching her bedroom she threw you on the bed, face up. 

“Is this the bed you fuck her in?”, You asked with a playful smirk. 

“No baby. I promise we haven’t had sex since the time you caught us in my office. I couldn’t bring myself to fuck her again. But I am being honest when I say the few times we did it I was imagining she was you the whole time.”, She said while hovering over you and kissing your neck. 

“Right Natasha, you always know what the ladies want to hear.”, You said sarcastically, “just hurry up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

Natasha kissed your lips, sticking her tongue in your mouth while humping her bulge against your cunt. Pulling back for air she pulled off your shirt and undid your bra, eyes widening when she saw your huge, plump, and juicy tits. 

“Your tits have gotten so big ever since you have given birth.”, She said massaging them in her hands, slapping the nipple a few times before entering them into her hot mouth. Alternating each of them between her hand and her swirling tongue the pleasure was too much for you. This was the first time anyone had touched you in months since the separation.

 “Oh my god Natty. I have missed your mouth, you use it so well.”, You moaned, pushing her head downwards to where you needed it most. 

“I bet you’re about to love my mouth even more.”, she looked up with a smirk, pulling off your pants and discarding them across the room.

She kissed your clit through your panties, “You wore my favorite panties, it’s almost like you knew this was gonna happen.” she joked into your pussy.

Taking the panties off she smelled them, before putting them in the pocket of her pants. She spread your legs open and pushed them up against your body taking a deep sniff against your wetness moaning at the smell.

 “Still so wet for me baby, can’t wait to taste you.” Her flattened tongue swiftly licked from the bottom to the top, as she relished the taste. She continued her movements up and down before focusing slowly on the too long neglected clit. 

Sticking her tongue under the clit she began to flick, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands made their way to her head holding her hostage in between your thighs.

She ate you out with a renewed fervor like she had something to prove, which she most definitely did. She circled your clit rapidly, pulling out all the noises and juices she could from you. She next teasingly circled your oozing hole savoring the taste of your delicious excrement, before inserting her tongue back and forth expertly playing with your g-spot. 

After only a few minutes of her expert ministrations you couldn’t hold back anymore and you let go with a loud moan, squirting in her in the face you sprayed everywhere, violently shaking as you released your high. 

She licked her lips before removing her top and using it to wipe her face off. The bra went off with it. She moved up to face you again, before enveloping your lips in a kiss. Her tongue explored your mouth, before yours stopped it and sucked the taste of yourself off. 

Pulling back for air she exclaimed, “Your taste is indescribable, makes you incredibly irresistible. I can’t believe you left me without you for so long. I am so hard baby, I need you so bad.”  

“I’m aching so bad Natty, I want your cock.” With that she stood up and stepped out of her gym shorts, the bulge evident in her underwear. She quickly removed it and her gigantic cock sprung out hitting her in the stomach. Something you craved every night when you were alone in bed with your fingers between your thighs during the months you were apart.

She spit on her hand and collected the pre cum from the tip and rapidly spread it up and down her shaft. “Please natty, I've missed your cock so bad.” 

She pushed your legs wide open and fit herself in between them, carefully entering herself into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around her waist and she began with slow and gentle thrusts. 

“I have no self control when it comes to you. Your pussy feels so tight and warm milking my cock like this. Are you okay if I speed up.” She pulls her head up from out of your neck desperately begging to go faster.

Looking up you heard the door open, unbeknownst to Natasha who was caught up in the pleasure. Stood in the doorway was Wanda, Natasha’s girlfriend and baby mama, fuming at the sight. You smirked and decided to have some fun with this.

”Yes Natty please go faster. Is this the best pussy you’ve ever had? Tell me it feels way better than that whore you got knocked up.”

”Of course baby, her pussy does not compare to yours at all.”, She said while you glared up at the woman.

”Tell mommy how much you missed her and how that bitch means nothing to you.”

”Uggh yes mommy, daddy missed you so much that bitch is nothing I promise. I will call her and tell her that for her to hear”, She exclaimed through rapid uneven breaths, in between kissing all over your neck and face.

“It’s okay, no need for that.”, You said with a smug smirk.

Wanda angrily stormed out holding back tears. While you smiled and pulled Natasha in for an intimate kiss. “I love you, Natasha. I trust you, please don’t break it again.”

Natasha eagerly pulled back, shocked at your words, “I love you too so much y/n . I promise I will never do anything to hurt you ever again.” 

“I’m close natty, please.”, You held her tighter than you ever had and relished her thrusts.

”Don’t hold back, I'm right with you, baby.”, she said, her speech broken due to the approaching orgasm. Her cum spurted in a hot rush of liquid, hitting your g-spot directly causing your orgasm. 

“I don’t know if you’re on birth control or not, but it would be great for our daughter to have a sibling.”, She planted a kiss on your lips.

 “She is going to have a sibling, or did you already forget about your infidelity?”, You said with a roll of your eyes.

”Right…”, She said awkwardly, scratching her head. 

Comment down below if you guys would have taken her back or not!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hair

Irene Paredes x Child!Reader

Summary: You help your Mami when she gets a red

You’ve travelled with Mami for once.

Mama is at home with your little brother Matteo but you’re not really worried.

You’re a good traveller. Mami says so because you were born when she used to play in France so you’re used to going back and forth between countries. You know how to amuse yourself by playing or doing your homework or your reading.

Mami says you’re very responsible.

Since coming home to Spain and to Barcelona, you’ve not travelled as much. You’ve stayed with Mama at home even though travelling and going on planes is much more interesting.

You don’t know why Mami decided you could come with her this time but you have and you’re happy.

Or you were happy until Mami got her red card.

You’re not quite sure what happened apart from the fact that her leg was too high.

You know all about high legs.

At Taekwondo, your teacher explains all about how head shots are very dangerous because the head is a very important part of your body and that’s why people wear caps to protect them during sparring.

You’re still kind of small (but growing all the time!) so you’re not allowed to do any head shots of your own. But you know they’re dangerous and you know Mami is not going to argue her card even if someone else will.

“Mami?”

“Go back to the bench, squirt,” Irene says as she breezes past you to the locker rooms.

When you were younger, that used to work but you’re nearly eight now and Mama says you’re moving under your own power so you think that means that Mami’s orders don’t work on your anymore.

“No!” You say stamping your foot right in the tunnel.

Irene scrubs a hand over her face as she turns around to face you. “I don’t have the patience to deal with a tantrum right now, squirt. Go back to the bench and finish watching.”

You stamp your foot again. “I’m not having a tantrum, you’re having a tantrum!”

Irene sighs. “If you come with me now, you’re not allowed back out. We stay in the locker room. But you can keep watching the match if you head back outside.”

Your foot goes again. “With you.”

You’d inherited her stubbornness, Irene notes. Her hair. Her eyes. The tight set of her jaw. And her stubbornness.

Irene holds her hand out for you. You take it.

You’re a different beast to your brother.

Matteo is still small, still practically a baby. She and Lucia had been worried about the age gap between you both. At nearly eight, you towered over him with your toys and your rambunctious nature.

You were not unlike Lucy and Keira’s (and increasingly Ona's) Pup but maybe a bit lower energy now that you’re gotten older. More disciplined is what Lucia would say, now that you’ve had your energy redirected into Taekwondo. Disciplined and strangely emotionally intelligent.

Irene supposes she should pat herself on the back with that. She’d never agreed with hitting kids even if it’s a little scuff on the back of the head to redirect them. No whacks, no spanks, no hits.

She talked your through your emotions and now that you were older, you were able to talk her through them too.

You hold her hand now as she walks back to the locker room.

“Mami, are we showering?”

“Aren’t you a bit too old to shower with me, squirt?” She teases, grabbing her toiletries and a towel. “You’re nearly eight now.”

You puff out your chest at the reminder. “I’m not going in with you! Just wanted to know.”

“I’m going to shower. You can take a shower if you want but you have to come into mine if you’re going to be washing your hair.”

You tug at the end of your braid.

Lucia likes your hair long and Irene has to admit that she does too.

You’d come out with a full head of hair, screaming and crying your arrival to the world as Irene panted from all the energy she’d spent pushing you out. Screaming, crying, with thick hair as you were gently rest on her chest.

Your hair had remained just as thick as then, growing quickly to the point that regular trips to get it cut were needed.

But washing it was always a challenge. Lots of shampoo. Lots of conditioner. Lots of time spent in the tub trying to get it all washed.

It’s part of the reason why it’s done in the morning too. You hate the hairdryer but you hate sleeping with wet hair even more so washing it is always done in the morning so it can air dry before bed.

“Wash my hair?” You ask and Irene nods.

“You’ll have to shower with me then if we’re washing your hair. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Alright, squirt. Let’s go.”

Irene’s original plan was to drown herself in the shower, to stay there until the match was over and she could finally face her teammates again. The red card was justified, she knows that but it doesn’t mean there isn’t still a bit of a sting.

She was happy to leave you on the bench, safe with the others so Irene could wash away her anger and resentment while you were occupied.

But now you’re here with her, asking to have your hair washed and looking up at her like you just know she needs something like this to keep occupied.

It’s an easy routine to get through, to lather her hands with shampoo and massage it into your scalp. To wash it all out before moving onto the conditioner.

Two rounds of conditioner and you look up at her with a smile.

“I can wash your hair now, Mami?” You ask and Irene laughs, pushing away the wet strands from your face.

“I think you’re a little small to be doing that, squirt.”

You puff out your cheeks. “Are you sure? I’ve definitely grown since Mama last measured me!” To demonstrate, you stretch up to your tiptoes and reach as high as you can.

“Maybe when you’re taller,” Irene says placidly,” Come on. Grab your towel and we’ll get out.”

Irene’s just gotten yours and her own clothes on by the time that everyone else has arrived.

“Whoa,” Jenni says as she comes in,” You’re dripping everywhere, squirt!”

Irene sighs as she turns around. “You should have seen just how wet it was earlier. Absolutely everywhere.”

“We can tell,” Codi snickers,” There’s a river to the showers.”

“I’ve braided it back again,” Irene offers up weakly as she watches Alexia crouch in front of you.

“You know you’ll have to sleep with that wet hair,” Alexia reminds you.

You giggle. “No, I won’t. We call Mama and Matteo tonight. Mama will see my hair. She won’t let Mami put me to bed with wet hair. She says it’s naughty.”

“Devious,” Alexia says approvingly.

You high five her and look back at Irene, who shakes her head fondly at you.

“We’ll be having words about your eversion to the hairdryer.” She wiggles her finger teasingly at you and you grin.

You stick your tongue out. “You have to talk to Mama first.”

[januaryembrs]

NEARLY BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [2]

Description: FIVE times Spencer thinks he might like you + the ONE time he knows.

Word length: 20k

Trigger Warnings: death, murder, Lauren arc, spencer's addiction mentioned, Diana's schizophrenia mentioned, vomit, alcohol, blood, usual criminal mind warnings. mommy AND daddy issues in the prentiss family.

previous chpt | next chpt

‘so sweet with a mean streak

nearly brought me to my knees.’

The one where he tries flirting

Emily tutted at her as the girl blindly shoved the Lucky Charms in her mouth, her tongue staining a gross blue-green colour from the additives as she read from a battered copy of Anna Karenina. Bugsy had been living with her for just two weeks now, since her impromptu fleeing from the altar, and Emily’s certainly had a good insight into the life of the twenty three year old. 

Yes, it was her birthday next week. No, she didn’t act her age anymore than she had at twenty. 

“Bug, slow down.” Emily urged, a rogue orange marshmallow dribbling down her chin as she plunged the spoon in before she’d even swallowed the last mouthful, “You get sick when you eat too fast,” 

Bugsy waved her off with the utensil, not even ripping her eyes away from the page in front of her, scooping up the marshmallow with the side of her finger and popping it into her mouth. 

Emily rolled her eyes, downing a few sips of her coffee and heading for the stairs, knowing her ride would be here any moment and she still had yet to change her shirt from the one she’d spilled toothpaste down not ten minutes earlier. 

“Niko needs breakfast when you’re done,” The older of the two shouted down to the breakfast table, a streak of tabby grey running under her feet at the sound of food. Bugsy had insisted she bring her new feline friend into Emily’s apartment, and as much as she’d hated the way she nearly tripped over the chubby bastard almost every day they’d been here, she certainly had a fondness for him. 

Bugsy hummed in acknowledgement, though she scraped the edges of her bowl clean by the time the cat in question hopped up onto the counter in search of her leftover milk. 

“This is not for you, you have too much already,” She scolded, shovelling the last few sugary pieces of cereal into her mouth right as the door knocked. 

She dogeared her page, gulping down a quick sip of Emily’s coffee, cringing when she caught it was much too strong for her liking, and heading for the door, her sister yelling to her again. 

“Bug, can you get that- wait- are you wearing pants?” 

She certainly wasn’t, having rolled straight out of bed in a pyjama shirt and underwear, and towards the promise of breakfast, nor as she swung the front door to the apartment open before Emily had a chance to rush down the stairs.

Spencer could have laughed when he saw her, all too reminiscent of the first time he’d met her. The boxers that hugged her legs beneath a large top he was entirely convinced was not hers, though her face lit up in excitement to see him. 

“Good morning!” He thrust a coffee to-go into her hand, still warm even from where it had been jostled around in his car.

“You’re my saviour,” She grinned, sipping on the sweet beverage with bright eyes, “Cute sweater vest-” 

She was quickly manhandled behind the door by two firm hands, Emily’s face enraged as she glared down at her sister where she was now out of sight from the doctor. 

“What did I tell you about wearing pants? Huh? You nearly gave Mrs Jensen a heart attack last week,” Emily hissed, as Bugsy shrugged, remembering the look of horror the old woman across the hall had given her when she’d taken the trash out in a hoodie and booty shorts.

“It’s Spencer,” She poked her head around the door, despite Emily’s shoving, like she was taming a wild animal, “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head, an amused and easy smile on his face as he watched the sisters bicker, not entirely unlike the way he and Emily tended to pick at one another. 

“Not at all; I agree pants are loathable,” And he wasn’t lying. He tried to go for looser fitting trousers or sweat pants, hating the way the tight fabrics restricted his legs, rubbed his skin, making him want to itch and squirm inside his body. 

“Don’t you start,” Emily pointed at him, huffing as she stepped out of the apartment, “You know she gets all worked up and weird on sugar,” 

“Hey, I’m the last person to deny someone a coffee,” He replied, and the two turned to head back to his car, not before he threw the younger woman a look over his shoulder and a wave. 

“Go save the world, kiddos.” She waved back, sipping her coffee indeed with bare legs that would have a nun blushing, “Curfews at nine, Doctor Reid, I expect both of you home for dinner!” She nudged the door closed with her hip before Niko could run out after Emily, and Spencer chuckled to himself, shaking his head. 

“See, told you,” Emily sniggered, rolling her eyes, “Weird,” 

Though that wasn’t quite the word he’d have used. 

–

A killer, so far as they had been able to profile from the four bodies, was targeting women he picked up in night clubs in Atlanta. Most of the team, except Derek, had outgrown the clubbing scene, though Spencer didn’t quite think he’d ever been in it to start with. They all went to O’Keeffe’s usually once a month or so for a quick drink, but it was not big on his list. 

Rossi, Reid and Derek stared at the puddle of blood on the sidewalk, wincing as Emily leaned over the balcony, the five story drop making her tug her lip in between her teeth. 

This woman must have been terrified by something, someone, to see this as a better way out. 

“Maybe she fought back,” Hotch speculated behind her, drawing her attention back to the cleaning equipment scattered over the floor, entirely different to the last three crime scenes where they had been arranged neatly into a triangle, “And when Becky fought back, his routine was compromised, cause he knew the police would respond,”

“Or she could have jumped,” Emily responded gravely, shaking her head at the carpet beneath her boots, “Her nervous system is pumping adrenaline, her fight or flight response kicks in?” Both were equally plausible options, but not ones they had time to entirely pick over. 

“He’s struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine’s been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again,” Hotch said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed deeper than it usually was. 

“It’s Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight,” Emily replied, her eyes sad, worried. 

“Take a look at the classes the Unsub might have taken, we need to generate a suspect pool as soon as possible,” Her boss ordered, and she nodded heading for the door before she stopped, looking at him with a grimace he didn’t quite understand, “What is it?”

“Bugs-my sister used to work as a shot girl in a club.” She said after a moment of thought, “She could smell a rat from a mile away; said most girls who work in bars get this sixth sense about guys with bad intentions, so they know when to cut them off earlier than most,” 

Emily looked at him for a moment, and he seemed troubled, hesitant as she was to even tease the idea to him, before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. 

“Call her in.” He said through an outbreath, gritting his teeth the way he did when he was in between a rock and a hard place. 

Rock being another girl murdered by tonight with a huge opportunity to catch the guy in the act missed. Hard place being a twenty-three year old risking her skin for his team for a third time. He hated the paperwork she brought him, hated the look on her face the day Spencer and Derek had dragged her out of that chapel bloodied and shaken even more. 

“But she wears a vest under her clothes, and she stays with Reid and Morgan,” He reasoned, “And just purely scouting; if the Unsub strikes, she gets out there like any other civilian.”

Emily nodded, her hand routing through her pockets for her phone already, “Couldn’t agree more,” She said, hitting the call button with a sigh. She just hoped this time her baby sister wouldn’t be making any drastic calls like throwing herself in the Unsub’s way. Though, Emily knew Spencer wouldn’t let her take another hit for him ever again. Not after the way he’d seemed so distraught the moment she’d been dragged from that room, his eyes all but glistening with tears when he’d seen her on the bed, bloodied and beaten for his sake. 

No, Emily could stake her life on the fact Reid would go down swinging before that ever happened to her again. 

-

“When you think about the nature of serial crimes, it’s amazing there aren’t more predators in clubs,” Spencer said, hoping the pretty girls he’d managed to snag into conversation didn’t hear the way his voice stuttered. This was so far out of his depth, the entire club atmosphere suffocating him worse than any tight pants ever could. The music was too loud, the heavy bass making him wince, the air was too close, too warm, the bodies that kept shoving past him made him want to shower for two hours straight and then wash his hands as well. He’d turned down the drink Derek had offered him, knowing the exact amount of bacteria that swarmed the ice behind the bar, on the rims of the glasses, on the taps- 

Spencer was more than overwhelmed. And talking to beautiful women was not helping his flushed demeanour whatsoever. 

“I mean, excessive amounts of alcohol, countless opportunities for date rape drugs, not to mention suprisingly risky behaviour being pursued,” He counted off, his satchel strapped tightly to his side, “All right, so who wants a flyer?” The three women turned their nose up in awkward smiles, the tallest pushing past him with little more than an outright scoff, the other girl following her like lost dogs, “Nobody? Okay, all right,” He said, his face crestfallen at their reaction, though he wasn’t so unused to it. Girls tended to react that way when he spoke, his entire high school career had been the same. Infact, the only girl other than his co-workers who ever bothered to listen when he spoke was-

“I’ll take one,” A voice came from behind him, the same one he had incidentally been thinking of since they’d left Emily’s apartment, and he could already tell she was smiling before he whipped around to see her slinking through the crowd. 

He was ready to retort something clever, but felt his words congeal in his throat. He had thought, that day when he’d stopped the elevator and seen her in a sodden wedding dress, that he had seen her at her most beautiful. Yes, her makeup had been tracking down her face with her tears, her hair sticking to her cheeks, her expression weepy. But she had reminded him of a star, glistening with the rain, the water shimmering off the snow white fabric, it had taken his breath away then, even when she’d thrown her arms over his shoulders, as if he was the only thing that she could grab on to for safety. 

But that dress was nothing like the one she wore now. 

It was nothing extravagant, and truthfully he’d seen at least ten girls in this club alone that had gone way more lavish than she had bothered to on such short notice. But, Spencer couldn’t help but take her whole image in as she shoved her way in front of him, an easy smile on her face. 

“Beats boxers and pyjama shirts, huh?” She twirled cheekily, warming under his gaze that blinked heavily at her. The dress had been an old thing she’d bought for a frat party, when she’d felt particularly sorry for herself and was going out looking for a bonehead jock to take home. It fit her nicely, complimented the areas she wanted it to, hid the others. A good fail safe option for a last minute night out like this. Covered the kevlar vest Hotch and Emily had wrangled her into.

Not her finest moment, being jumped on by her older sister as her boss forced the bullet jacket over her head; the new girl, Jordan, staring in discomfort as she’d cursed both of them out colourfully for ruining her outfit, but the way Spencer seemed to gulp heavily made her smile wider. 

“You look…” He swallowed again, his fingers digging into the flyers in his hand. Hot. She looked hot. Hot enough that he felt his face flush with the same feeling, he hoped she couldn’t see the way he blushed beneath the club lights, “Beautiful,” He settled on, because ‘hot’ was an entirely Derek word to use. 

“So you keep telling me,” Bugsy preened under his gaze, grinning like she knew something he didn’t. Grabbing one of the flyers from his sweaty palms gently, she took a look at the general sketch, not noticing the way he had yet to tear his eyes off her, “Alright, this the guy?” 

“Yeah, we think he has a mark of some sort- like a birthmark or a scar over his left eyebrow,” He informed, corralling her towards where Morgan stood, his own eyes widening at the girl’s attire. 

They knew she was coming to help scout the scene, they didn’t realise she’d come so ready. Derek immediately felt stupid for doubting her. 

“Woah, did someone call the fire department, because you’re about to set the damn sprinklers off,” He teased, her face lighting up at the man she knew had a way of making her feel a million bucks every time he saw her. 

Emily said he had little sisters of his own, and maybe that was how he knew just what to say. He had many years of experience being the best big brother. 

“Oh, please, you guys spoil me,” She snickered, though her eyes scanned the crowd for a general scope of the club. Safe to say she did not miss the eight pm till four am shifts she used to pull, nor did she miss the drunk bodies swaying around her, the men who would get handsy, the girls who would get scrappy, “So, how’s it going?” 

“Not good, I gave the profile to one woman and she asked if I was the unsub,” Spencer sighed, running a hand through his rogue curls, the humidity of the stuffy bar making them tighten around his ears just that bit more. “How are you doing?” 

“Well, I gave out all my flyers,” Derek said smugly, though Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a smile teasing at his lips. 

“Oh yeah? How many phone numbers did you get?” Bugsy snorted at his words, looking between the men with a smirk. 

“None, I’m working the case here, kids,” Derek tutted, to which Spencer and Bugsy looked at eachother with identical doubt, flicking their gaze back to Morgan. He huffed, “Okay, four were offered, but I didn’t take any of them.” 

Spencer’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in confusion how Morgan was so charismatic with women even when he wasn’t trying. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab more flyers from the van. You,” He clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Need to relax, man. Remind me to teach you the basics on picking up girls. And you,” Derek pointed to where Bugsy nodded patiently, “Make sure wonder boy doesn’t get eaten alive. And stay together.” 

She nodded again, watching him leave through the crowd; already a woman grabbed on his arm for his attention, where she watched him politely decline with one of those flirty smoulders he’d mastered. 

“I don’t get how he does it. I mean, I get he has the whole body of a God thing going for him,” Spencer sighed, as the two of them went back out into the crowd, scanning for a group of girls who looked particularly sober enough to listen, “But, he just has this way, you know. I’ll don’t think I’ll ever have the way,” 

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” She chastised, nudging him affectionately with her elbow, “You’re very beautiful yourself, you know? You don’t need some stupid way, you just need to be yourself,” 

She said it as if it was nothing, as if it hadn’t just hit him in the chest that she thought he was attractive, though he still remembered that first day they’d met when she assumed he was a stripper. 

His heart swelled in his chest. 

“You really think so?” He asked unsure, waiting for her to laugh in his face and tell him it had just been a tease, she was good at those. But she was never cruel. Never to him. He didn’t know why he’d expected it. 

“Absolutely! I’ve seen like three girls already giving you goo-goo eyes. Believe me, you got the looks,” She simpers, watching his eyes scan the crowd to look for the supposed culprits. 

“So, what, it’s my personality they don't like?” He asked, though he knew that was more than likely the case. He’d always been told he buzzed in people’s ears like a fly, like he was simply background noise the greater population wanted to tune out. 

He knew that would be it. It didn’t stop the small stab of hurt in his stomach however. 

“If someone doesn’t like your personality, that is a them problem, Spencer, not you,” Bugsy was quick to snap, the joking lessening in her eyes as she caught his dejected expression, “Girls like it when you talk about something you enjoy, something you know what you’re talking about. Which should be easy, since you know everything. What do you feel most comfortable talking about?” 

“Statistics,” He said with a nod, to which she looked at him fondly.

“Okay, we have statistics as a backup option. Anything else?” She looked at him, the light bouncing off her eyes in a way that had him pause to think. 

“Magic?” He offered, and she smiled even wider, if that was even possible. 

“Magic! Perfect, girls love feeling magical,” She beamed, nudging him again with her elbow, and the two of them walked over to the bar, “Show me then, Gandalf. What moves would you pull on me if I was a girl?”

He blinked at her, “Are you … not a girl?” He asked, pure bewilderment on his face as he stole a few napkins from the counter. 

She snickered, “Okay, if I wasn’t me. If you didn’t know me,” 

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be way too nervous to even talk to you. And you definitely wouldn’t want to talk to me,” He said as he fiddled with the paper between his obnoxiously long fingers, folding the sheets into miniature shapes. 

She chuckled at him, shaking her head. It had never been like this with them before. Sure, she teased him, like she always had, but he was teasing back. Complimenting her with a seriousness beyond just being nice. 

Something was different in him since the day Cyrus dragged her away. And if that hadn’t done it, then seeing her every morning for two weeks had changed the boyish anxiety that had lingered even then. 

“Stop stalling and show me these tricks of yours,” She bit playfully, though the grin she gave him was genuine as she saw something mischievous flash in his eyes. 

“Patience is virtue, patience is virtue-” He murmured, fiddling with the short, plastic straws they kept at the bar, “Now for this to work, I’m going to need a beautiful assistant. Do you think you could find one for me-” 

She smacked his arm, and he snickered. She shook her head, fighting her own laugh overcoming her. 

Maybe she was right. Talking about something he loved made him feel entirely at ease, like he controlled every angle their conversation took, and the air between them had taken this odd electric turn he wasn’t expecting like someone had pumped a thousand volts under his skin.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He replied, holding out one of the straws, about as plain and simple as it would be if it were in a drink, “But I will need some magic words,”

“Ofcourse,” She drawled, her cheeks hurting from how tight she was smiling, “What are they?”

“Magic words are, ‘I’ll be there’” He instructed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves as he watched her frown, and he pointed the straw at her mouth like a microphone, “You got it?” 

“Yep,” She responded, even though the confusion read clear as day on her face. He tapped the straw on her nose and cleared his throat. 

“3, 2, 1,” He tapped it to her temple, then to each of her shoulders, “Go on a date with me?” 

“I’ll be there,” She responded, and in a strobe of light the single instrument became a trio of origami roses, stuffed into the straws as stems. 

Her brain caught up to her as he gently placed them in her hand, her eyes gazing at him like he had just presented her with a 24 carat diamond, though in reality it was nothing more than a silly trick with napkins and plastic. 

“Spencer,” She said earnestly, and he could have sworn her voice quivered for a split second, before she shook her head at him, punching him on the hip gently, “You are the most humble man I’ve ever met. You do that to any other girl and you’re getting laid, I’m telling you,” 

He rubbed his chin bashfully, both of them catching the way the waitress behind the bar watched him with large, blue eyes Bugsy could have bathed in. She was gorgeous, and she stared at Spencer as if she’d been the one given roses. 

Attracted. Interested. 

“Talk to her,” Bugsy whisper-yelled, nodding over to the barmaid who busied herself with another order, though they both saw the way her flicking glances to the two of them as she scooped ice, “She would have seen if a guy like that frequented somewhere like here, talk to her,”

“What- no-” He protested, but his eyes widening as Bugsy leaned over the bar to flag the woman down with that playful charisma of hers, not missing the way a few heads turned as the dress tightened around her ass as she bent forward. 

He felt his chest flash with anger, glaring at the men, hoping it was enough to ward them off. Her hand enclosed around his wrist, drawing his attention back to the bartender who watched him with a sweet face. He had to admit she was attractive. 

“This is my very best friend, Spencer,” Bugsy told the woman, who smiled at him, and the Prentiss girl lifted his hand up to wave at her like he was a ragdoll, “Spencer, wanted to show you something, didn’t you, Spence?” 

Raising her eyebrows at him, nodding to the flyers in his hand. 

“I’m gonna go dance,” She fibbed, knowing she was going to go scout out the crowd to see if any guys fit the profile, nudging him a little harder than before, “Remember what we talked about. I’ll be by the DJ,” 

Grinning encouragingly, he watched her swoop into the crowd like it was second nature, not missing the collection of guys who watched her every move; she captured the room when she moved, when she smiled, when she politely excused herself past a group of girls that tried to pull her into their circle with friendly cheers. 

He did another one of his tricks for Austin, he’d come to learn was the name of the girl behind the bar, but it hadn’t felt the same, not even when she gave him her number unprompted, even as she flirted, smiled prettily, batted those sea blue eyes at him. It wasn’t the same. 

He worried for a moment that the electricity he’d felt was reserved only for Bugsy, but he squashed it down faster than he could confront the idea. 

2. The one where he nearly dies

“I don’t know how to do this,” JJ confessed, her bluebell eyes filled with tears as she stared out of her boss’ office and into the bullpen full of officers, scientists and even the damn military tearing through pages and pages of resources for answers. 

Anthrax. A weapon of mass destruction they’d already had a small dose of, was on the move through the BAU’s own city. And they each had strict instructions to not alert their loved ones. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Henry,” She whimpered through a strong facade as she turned to Hotch, and she saw the same guilt eating him up in those dark eyes of his that rarely let anything slip. 

He had Jack. He had Haley, even with the divorce papers signed so long ago. He had people at risk too. And yet she couldn’t stop seeing her precious little boy’s face as he lay back in his pushchair and enjoyed the sights of the park, the same park that had just been targeted with an airborne disease-

“He goes for a walk almost every single day at Potomac Park,” She sniffed, the nausea chewing away at her brain as she recounted the lesions on that poor teenage girls skin, that's going to be Henry, that’s going to be Will, “What type of mother am I if I don’t atleast call and tell them to stay home?” 

“JJ, we can’t,” Hotch said, though he felt his own dam start to tear down as he tried not to think of what could possibly happen to his own sweet son. 

“I know, but-” Her throat bobbed, “It-it’s not just me- Emily’s worried about Bugsy. She told me she cuts through the park on the way to her lectures- she has one every day this week- Hotch-”

It was true. She had caught Emily in her own turmoil as the woman sped off to grab a drink seconds after chugging down the dose of Cipro they’d all been given that morning. She’d caught her filling a glass of water until the liquid started leaking down the sides and went over her shaking fingers, and even then she’d had to tug her friend out of whatever rabbit hole the words ‘Media Blackout’ had sent her down. 

“I understand you both have people you want to protect,” Hotch was the voice of reason, as he always was, and it stung her to see his face so cold since she knew he was drowning his own sorrows behind it, “But if we all called home and used this information to give us an advantage other people don’t have, is that the right thing to do?” 

She bit her lip, knowing he was right. She just prayed on everything she had Will would stay home with Henry today, Haley would have a movie night with Jack, and for whatever she had seen in Emily’s eyes earlier, a pure, unadulterated self-loathing, that Bugsy at least took the day off teaching.

JJ prayed, and prayed, and prayed. 

–

She shuffled her notes together as she marked papers at her desk. They let her take the office to herself since she’d been at the University for five months now, gave her free reign of her lectures without having a supervisor like they had the first eight weeks or so. Bugsy enjoyed, surprising as it was to her, the feeling of somewhere that wasn’t the laboratory. Emily and Spencer had forced her to apply for jobs when they caught her binge watching real housewives for the sixth time back to back, of course lacking any bottoms. 

Emily didn’t know why she thought twenty-four year old Bugsy would be any different. They had thought at least that Derek holding her hair back on the night of her birthday party as she threw up copious amounts of jello shots on the sidewalk would be an eye opening moment, but it hadn’t deterred her in the slightest. She had just chucked a handful of gum in her mouth, patted the man on the back and asked Emily to hit up the drive thru on their way home. 

It wasn’t until she got the job did she feel a little bit more responsible, like what she was doing actually affected the people around her. Teaching first year college students was so very different than she’d expected, she was the authority figure. 

She could hear her mother laughing at her now. 

She almost smudged the little smiley face she’d drawn beside one of her student’s B+ as the phone rang on her desk, because she had an office phone believe it or not, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound as grown up as possible whilst also trying not to grin how excited she was to use her new landline. 

“Miss Prentiss speaking, who’s calling?” She said, almost not recognising herself as she squeezed her gel pen in delight. She had this grown up thing down to a tea.

“Hi, Bug.” Spencer’s voice sounded out of breath, and she heard his converse slapping against a linoleum floor fast, as if he was pacing, “I got a quick hypothetical to run through with you,” 

“Y-yeah, sure- Where are you?” She asked, her brows furrowing when he gave a wheezy cough, “Spence?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you, but I’m fine- for now,” He winced as he said the last part, as if it had slipped unintentionally, as if he knew what was coming next. He could practically hear her brain ticking over, “So, when you’re in the lab-”

“What do you mean for now?” She cut him off, standing up from her desk, already collecting her pencils back into their little pink case, “Where’s Emily? Is she okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“Everyone’s fine; as I was saying, hypothetically, when you’re in the lab where would you-” He talked over her right back, his slender fingers flicking through the piles of work, hoping he stumbled on a formula, a sticky note, a damn cheat sheet, anything. 

“Don’t avoid my question, Spencer,” She snapped, and she could already feel the worry lines on her forehead. 

He sighed, hoping she couldn’t hear the way his chest rattled and he choked down a cough. It would only make her worry more. 

“I promise I will tell you what’s going on if you just answer my question,” Spencer rushed, feeling his face growing sweaty, opening the entire cabinet of drawers. “Okay?”

She nodded, biting her nail, as she sat back down. “Okay fine, shoot,”

“Where would you put your valuable items if you didn’t trust your lab partner while the two of you were working together?” He asked, wiping his brow with his sleeve as he held the phone tight to his ear with his shoulder. 

She paused for a moment, “Well it’s standard practice that all jewellery comes off before we get scrubbed, so as not to contaminate anything. I usually put my scrunchie through my rings and tied it back into my hair so they wouldn’t get stolen. I knew some guys who put their watches around their ankles. Basically anywhere we could feel it on us,” 

He cleared his throat again, and she heard him take a few steps, “How’s grading papers going? Did you get a fax machine yet?” 

He was trying to change the subject, trying to take her mind off whatever it was he was doing that required such an urgent and peculiar question. 

“It’s going good, I miss you bringing me coffee; it was like I had a maid who helped me with my crosswords,” She said, biting her bottom lip squeezing her thumb in the middle of her fist to slow the nerves. He tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling hearing that. “Now tell me what’s wrong. Did you go running without your inhaler again? I told you to leave a spare at ours so I could rescue you if you ever-” 

“Bugsy, you’re a genius!” He cried, ignoring the way it made his throat burn, “Remind me to tell you every single day how smart you are- I have to go,” 

“Spence- Spencer-” She tried to cut in, but he had already put the phone down. 

So much for not worrying her, she thought, as she got on the phone to Emily within seconds. 

-

Bugsy all but burst through the hospital doors, apologising when she nearly knocked a stack of files from a nurse's hands, wishing she had an inhaler herself after she had ran all the way from the car park, including the three flights of stairs. 

After calling in sick the rest of the day, and practically volleying her rucksack into the passenger's seat of her car, she had blindly called Emily four more times until the woman answered with a frightened lilt to her voice. 

Spencer was headed to the hospital. Spencer was headed there on full blues with lungs full of an even deadlier strain of Anthrax. Last Emily had heard he was getting worse. Bugsy put her foot down on the pedal even harder. 

She knew the speeding ticket would come any day, and didn't even want to think about the state of her parking. All she cared about the second the lady at the desk had said what room he was in was seeing he was okay, that he wasn’t growing lesions or choking on his own blood or having half of his brain boiled alive. 

Bugsy felt a small spike of panic, if it could even get worse, as she yanked the curtain back to see him asleep, a cannula tucked into his nose, a hospital gown tied over his shoulders. 

Diving for his file that was attached to the end of his bed, she looked through his information to check what meds he’d been given. He once told her he was allergic to narcotics, said he had been since birth, and while she trusted one of the team to have passed the information on, she had to see it for herself that he was stable. 

No narcotics given. Only paracetamol for his fever that was rapidly coming down. She could breathe again. 

She jumped out of her skin when the curtain rail was pulled back a second time, and Derek seemed to startle for a moment too before a tired smile met his handsome face. 

“Where have you been, Baby Prentiss?” His breath knocked out of him when she threw herself at him, a sigh of relief coming from her bitten lips. 

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” She murmured, and his chuckle echoed through his chest into her ear, “You all worried me half to death,”

“You’re looking very grown up,” He teased as he patted her on the back. And she was. She had taken to wearing maxi skirts and tights, even throwing on a cute blazer for affect, she was the teacher after all. She shoved him away with a smack to the chest. He laughed, holding up the opened pot of jell-o to her face, “Jell-o?”

She gagged, filled with memories of her birthday. 

He shook his head with a smile as she sat down in the seat next to the bed and he spooned the first mouthful of the fruity dessert into his mouth. 

“Is everyone else alright?” She asked, wringing her hands together. She fought back the urge to tuck Spencer’s curls behind his ear, knowing he was sleeping peacefully.

“Stop worrying. Team’s fine; we caught the guy and confiscated his supply. Even saved the last few survivors with you telling Reid where to look,” Morgan watched her jaw feather, and she picked under her nails. 

“I keep telling you guys, I didn’t do anything. I just… spoke to him. He’s the genius, not me,” She said solemnly, staring into her lap with a frown. 

“Not to him. Whole journey back, before the aphasia kicked in, he kept telling paramedics to tell Doctor Kimura it was you who’d figured it out.” Derek said, but it seemed to make her sulk more. 

She said nothing, pulling out her book from her bag to continue reading as she waited for him to wake up, and Derek took it as a sign she was in no mood to talk, god forbid even take a compliment, and opened the magazine he’d grabbed from the cafeteria. 

–

Half an hour and another pot of pudding for Morgan later (she gagged again at the sweet strawberry smell of it), the pair of them sat in silence, reading their own materials when a very sleepy, doe eyed man looked up and frowned.

“Are you eating Jell-O?” Spencer asked, barely noticing the girl on the other side of the bed, who shot up out of her seat as he came around. 

“Hey doc. You have a visitor,” Morgan said with a small smile, Spencer’s face falling into a frown. He looked to the other side of him, just in time to see a worn copy of Middlemarch being flung to the floor and a hand grabbing his clammy ones tightly. 

“Spencer I’m- I’m so mad at you-” She gasped, every soppy feeling of sadness she’d been stewing in leaving her body when she saw his hazel eyes fall to her, “You put the phone down on me and next thing I know you’re in the back of an ambulance nearly flatlining- I’m so-” 

She breathed when she saw his eyes soften. He didn’t think she knew it but he saw the way her eyes glistened, her voice trembled underneath her anger. He felt the way she had yet to let go of his hand, how nice and warm it felt in his palm. 

“I’m sor-” He hadn’t even finished his apology when she had latched onto him, trying not to hug him too tight but hard enough she could tell herself he was still here. He was okay. 

And he could understand. He’d felt the same when they’d found her in that church, when Cyrus had hauled her away after she’d practically offered herself up in exchange for him. He’d known she was braver than she gave herself credit for, but that had stopped his heart right there and then. He had grabbed her in a hug the first chance he’d got even then, even when he barely knew her, when she was Emily’s sister and not Bugsy. Not the woman he’d spent every morning with for weeks bringing her a coffee just the way she enjoyed it, the woman he’d sat with on Emily’s couch with her legs across his lap as they did the puzzles in the morning paper together. She tried to do them, and he would finish them when she got too annoyed by the ones she couldn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, his arms gently hugging her back and he felt something wet on his shoulder blade before he knew what it was. He felt even worse for worrying her, squeezing her tighter than was even comfortable for him. 

“Don’t do that to me again,” She said through tears as she settled in his arms. 

He really hoped she couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded. 

3. The one at Haley’s funeral

She had no idea what to say. Emily had always been the one who knew how to talk to people. She had this horrible habit of saying the first thing that came to her head, probably because a lot of the time it was the most real, and people liked real. 

But now wasn’t the time for what was best for her. Haley Hotchner had been murdered. 

She hadn’t spoken to Hotch yet, she’d only met the man a handful of times. But he’d invited her anyway, for the team. For Emily, maybe even Spencer; Emily said he liked when she was around. She couldn’t imagine any other reason she would be there. 

Other than, ofcourse, to be Spencer’s crutch. Literally. Since his real one had broken and he was still limping around with one knee weakened by the bullet wound in it. 

She’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d called from the hospital, again, though this time he’d waited until he’d gotten the all clear to tell her so she didn’t panic quite as much as last time. She’d cursed him out for being so reckless, and requested another week's sick pay to take care of him until he was able to actually walk. It was only a one year contract with the university anyway, she didn’t care if she missed a few days to make sure he was okay. 

“You look very handsome today,” She whispered to him as she hauled him out of the car, minding that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. He gave her a small smile and tucked her own hair behind her ear seeing it come loose from its braid when she’d leaned down to grab him. 

“Just today?” He asked, and she finally smiled back. She’d been stuck in a bubble in the car; her and Emily both had. They had the same thinking face, he’d realised. 

“Just especially today,” She answered honestly, and he worked on adjusting his black jacket so she could hold onto him comfortably. She was quieter than usual. Feeble, almost. 

“Thankyou, you do too,” He replied, his face scrunching after a moment, “Look pretty I mean,” 

He leaned on her arm, looped it around hers as he tried to be the least amount of imposing as possible. That went about as well as you’d expect for a six foot one bag of bones. 

She gave up after just a few steps, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulder as she walked with him. To anyone else they would easily pass as a couple, especially as she squeezed him tightly to her when the men laid down Hayley’s coffin, and the service began. 

“W.S Gilbert wrote ‘It’s love that makes the world go around’ and if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Hayley in it.” Aaron began, his voice strong as his large hands gripped the eulogy like it would give him any comfort. She smiled softly, her eyes glued to the man who stood unmoving for his son, “Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles but if there’s one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and our commitment to our son, Jack,” 

Bugsy smiled sadly when Jack looked to the floor bashfully. Glancing between the photo on top of the coffin, a beautiful blonde woman grinning back at her with brilliantly happy eyes and a soft face, she saw where he got most of his looks from. 

“Haley’s love for Jack was joyous, and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. A mother’s love is an unrivalled force of nature, and we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life. Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives. To measure who we are and who we’ve become.” She felt Spencer’s head knock into hers, felt the sniff run through him, and she searched her pocket for a tissue, “I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together; and I will make sure Jack grows up knowing who his mother was. And how she loved and protected him. And how much I loved her.” 

If Haley were here today she would tell us not to mourn her death. She would tell us-” Aaron cut himself off with a watery voice, his resolve finally melting as he realised this would be some of his final words to his wife. Bugsy felt her bottom lip quiver in remorse, “She would tell us to love our families unconditionally. And to hold them close because in the end they are all that matter.” 

Spencer felt her tug him closer as she hid the lone few tears from the rest of the mourners and wished more than ever he could press a small kiss to her brow.

–

No, Bugsy was not good with knowing what to say and when. Wasn’t good at cheering people up no matter how much Spencer told her she always made him feel better. Didn’t really know much about how to make someone understand that she cared other than showing them with her whole body. 

So by the time it was her turn to offer condolences, she didn’t bother shaking his hand. That meant nothing to her. That was a business deal, that was an agreement, a formal way to pretend you cared. But she did, she felt terrible for Hotch, wanted to fix him and his sweet son until Haley was right back there to thank her. 

She didn’t shake his hand like everyone else had. He held his hand out for one, his eyes soft and warm, like he could see she was struggling. She brushed past his hand and just pulled him in for a hug, and he wondered if she was always going to greet him that way. 

“I guessed that sorry wouldn’t make anything better so I brought you the biggest bottle of wine the store had,” She murmured into his chest, and she was gobsmacked to hear him chuckle weakly. She felt his hands pat her on the back gently, and he appreciated her candour. “I’ve got some Xanax if you’d really like a treat,” 

She was a breath of fresh air. Aaron truthfully had been sick of people saying they were so sorry for his loss, and he felt like shaking them and yelling, screaming that they hadn’t been the one to kill Haley, Foyet had. 

He pushed all of it down, focusing on the way she’d tucked herself to him like she had the day she’d become a runaway bride dripping rainwater over his bureau floor. 

“She would have really liked you,” Aaron confessed, and they finally parted, and she saw he was smiling like he meant it, not just saying it to make her feel more comfortable being here. “You would have made her laugh,”

He saw the easy expression on her face fade, and she turned to look at her heels, nodding quietly. 

“I would have been lucky to have known her,” She said, handing him the gift bag with a very heavy present inside. “I only wish someone would ever love me the way you love her,’ 

And with that she bid him a smile, and returned to her seat in between Emily and JJ, the pair of them mother henning her all day.

Aaron wished he could have said more to her after that, but before he knew it, someone else was offering him their condolences, and the sadness in her voice was forgotten.

–

The team sat around the table, nursing their beers, or in Spencer and Bugsy’s case a tea. Spencer didn’t want to affect his healing process with alcohol, not that he’d ever been big on the stuff, and Bug said she struggled driving even without the help of a beer, so they chatted between sips from two very fancy china cups. 

Emily and JJ sat to the other side of her talking about how beautiful the flower arrangements were when a small, fawn haired body came wandering over to where Will held a one year old Henry on his knee. 

“Would he like to play?” Jack asked shyly, trying to peer up onto the adults table to see if there were any other kids his age that would like to do something with him. His dad had been busy talking to all those people, and auntie Jessica had been trying to make it round to every table to thank people for being here. He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, in all honesty.

“He’s still a little too small yet honey. In a year or so, you guys can be best friends,” JJ said sweetly as he pulled his chin up to the tabletop and spied the younger woman sitting next to uncle Spencer.

He tottered over to her, where she sat unaware she had a shadow until Spencer's face softened as he looked behind her, and she swivelled around in her seat. 

“Hello,” Jack said quietly, looking up at where she seemed to buffer, feeling eight pairs of eyes on her as she interacted with the small boy.

She had never been good with children, had never been around them since she was their age, even the kids she taught now were all at least eighteen. 

The mantra to absolutely not fuck up the next few moments reverberated around her head. 

She gave him a soft smile, holding out a hand for him to shake, “Hi, Jack. I’m Emily’s sister. You can call me Bugsy,”

His tiny nose scrunched as he watched her, shaking her hand the way dad had shown him how. 

“Bugsy? That’s a weird name,” He said, and she chuckled, “Like the bunny?”

She shrugged, “I guess like the bunny, yeah,” although she had never thought of that before. 

“Would you like to play with me?” Jack asked, and she felt her chest warm unnaturally. He had such a sweet face. It was just like the woman in the picture.

Smiling at him crookedly, she rooted around her bag for the notebook and pens she kept for her to-do lists. Maybe Spencer was rubbing off on her. 

“We could do some drawing if you want?” She offered, showing him the pad with kind eyes. That seemed to satiate him as he grabbed her knee and started pulling himself up to sit in her lap, and she paused. 

Kids were so funny, she realised, she would never just start grabbing someone she just met and asking to climb on their lap. 

She got him comfortable on her knee, not noticing the flashing glances Spencer gave her between his conversation with Kevin, Garcia’s beau, as Jack started drawing a bunny with a human face, that was supposedly meant to be her. 

Spencer watched her giggle as he gave the rabbit a pretty dress, like the one she was wearing, and Spencer had to admit it was a pretty dress she’d gone for today. Had he not been so mournful earlier he thinks he would have blushed how tight she’d held him. 

She showed him how to play noughts and crosses, and she let him win most of them, laughing when he asked to tear out the page from her notebook to show his dad later. 

That is, until the man himself came over to the table of his work colleagues, only to see the group watching their youngest playing with his sweet son. 

“Bugsy,” Hotch said, and her head shot up to him, a guilty look passing over her face, worried she’d overstepped, though the fact he hadn’t said her real name said otherwise, “Can I talk to you for a moment outside, please?”

She blinked, straightening in her seat “O-ofcourse!” Shuffling Jack off her lap as fast as she could without hurting him, smoothing out her dress down as she followed him to the small balcony the funeral home had. It was a classy manor, but she guessed Hotch would have only had the best for Haley. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Jack asked to sit on my lap- and- I’m not good with kids anyway I just didn’t want to tell him no, especially not today-” He put his hand on her shoulder to shut her up, a small smile spreading on his face. It was fatherly and calming, something her own father had been much too busy to ever bother with.  

“Not at all, that’s not why I called you out here,” He reassured, squeezing her gently as he leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the midnight air, and he felt his professional mask begin to slip. “I’ve been thinking… about how much help you've been to us over the years. Reid would be dead if it wasn’t for you.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he flashed her a look that said he was serious. “Let me finish,”

She wrung her hands guiltily, “Sorry,” 

“You’re very resilient far beyond your years, you’re incredibly charismatic when you need to be, and you’re by far one of the smartest people your age,” He said, watching her face to see how she felt. He knew she didn’t take compliments well, for some other reason they could dig into any other day. But he needed to say it now, needed her to know now for what he was about to ask her. 

“Whether that is true or not, why are you telling me this?” She asked politely, without the usual bite that went with it when they tried calling her something she wasn’t. 

“I need to take some time off to spend with Jack, try and help him…” He trailed off, unsure as to what he wanted to say. “Help him understand Haley’s not coming home,”

She nodded with a glistening lash line, and grabbed onto his arm gently.

“My team looks to me to be their glue, but I know I can’t keep everyone together and look after my son. Emily said your contract at the University was ending,” He cleared his throat, looking at her again with something vulnerable in his sable black eyes, “So I was wondering if you would reconsider the FBI academy? It’s only twenty weeks, but Rossi and I can put you forward to do the written exams earlier if you’d like, and then Strauss can have you assigned a trainee position at the BAU-” 

“Anything,” She nodded, “Anything you need, I’ll do it,” and he hugged her for once. Maybe it was the way she had said it so willingly, no matter her own reservations about joining the academy, no matter her stubbornness and resistance to her sisters pestering, or even the fact they all talked weekly about how much easier their job would be if she was there. Her and Reid’s brains together were a force to be reckoned with. 

And he knew, the surprisingly kind girl that clutched at him back, would keep his team together, would be the glue to keep their heads on while he took some time to watch his son. 

“Thankyou,” He murmured into her hair, and she forced herself not to get weepy at the grief in his voice. Of all people here, she was the last person who should be allowed to cry. Least of all to him. 

He pulled away from her eventually, cursing himself for letting the front slip, but it was as if she had that effect on everyone on the team, like she had this little way of worming her way between that gap in their chests where their hearts once were before they’d seen the things they had, dealt with the people they had. 

It was for that reason Aaron knew they would be just fine. 

“You know, when I was a kid, mom got letters every day from people with their own agendas against her,” Bugsy said once they’d taken a gulp of cool night air, “They all said the same thing; that they were going to take me for ransom unless she left the country. She didn’t think much of it until a guy started following the car home from school and she decided to get me trained in self defence,” 

Hotch frowned, his chest tightening. He knew how it felt to be a parent on edge for his kid’s safety, but to hear it from the other side cut deeper. 

“Which was fine, I got a pretty mean shot if I say so myself, but eventually it progressed into hostage training, in case…” She swallowed dryly, clearing her throat and picking her nails, “I wet the bed the first time they grabbed me, the whole idea was that I wouldn’t know it was coming. They let me go pretty fast, I don’t think they’d expected the eleven year old to reach for the kitchen knife,” 

Hotch scoffed, shaking his head in horror, though he didn’t doubt her for a second. 

“I slept with it next to my bed for a year, so that next time they came for me, they would think twice and let me sleep in,” She said with a thoughtful smile.

“And did it work?” He asked, watching her run her hands along the stone wall beneath his  elbow. 

“I dunno, but the one guy left pretty quick when I almost took his eye out,” She giggled, and the sound made him laugh quietly as well, “My point is, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Jack. Kids like us, we get made tougher, resilient. And with parents like you two, I’d say he had a pretty good head start.” Bugs said, smiling to herself flicking a glance up to his face that said just how touched he was. Deciding he was likely waiting for her to turn around before he let himself cry, she took a step back, heading towards the reception. “I mean look at me, I turned out alright!” 

She barely heard his small chuckle that faded into a weep before she shut the door behind her, heading back over to the table where the team sat, Jack now with his auntie Jessica, and their eyes fell on her, waiting to hear whatever it was she had to say. 

Taking a deep breath, she gave them an awkward smile, “Guess I’m joining the academy afterall,” 

And that was all she got out before Garcia dived on her with an excited cuddle. 

4. The one with his new hair

He knew he was sweeping his fingers through his hair much more often than usual, his hazel eyes flickering to his reflection in car doors in a way that was almost obsessive. He liked what his barber had done, but that wasn’t the point. 

He was hoping she liked it. 

Bugsy had passed the academy with flying colours, not that anyone had ever doubted her, and had been part of the team for all of two weeks, though he would argue she was BAU way before that. Hotch had figured out a staggered schedule where he could take care of Jack four days a week and work the rest until Jack settled back in at school. 

It had been nearly five months since Haley had died, but it hadn’t gotten any easier for the boy. 

Spencer definitely, definitely hadn’t spent the last two weeks practically breathing down her neck whenever they went out into the field, nor had he definitely not found himself fighting off the grin that threatened his composure when he caught her scribbling notes down to herself whilst Penelope presented the cases. 

And he most definitely hadn’t gone out to get a new hair cut in the hopes she would find him more attractive. 

Definitely not.

And yet, her face was the first one he found himself looking at as he stepped into the office, watching as it trailed up from her notebook, her pink gel pen paused mid sentence as the rest of the team went silent, her face spitting into a grin the minute she saw him. 

“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asked in a rare moment of teasing, Derek snickering as Emily nudged his arm with her own chuckle. 

“Can I be your groupie?” Bugsy asked, which made them laugh harder, though she stared at him with a small twinkle in her eye the way she always did when he squirmed under her compliments. 

He hadn’t thought she was being mean, not even when they took a moment to settle down, not even when she smiled wryly at him, her eyes flicking up to his hair twice more before her attention was stolen back by Garcia switching the board. 

“Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties, early thirties?” Emily asked after they quietened, adjusting her bangs over her brows. 

“All single, though two are in committed relationships,” Rossi added, flicking through his own pack of notes. “All living on their own,” 

“Looks like normal suburban houses. Give the Unsub privacy,” Morgan added, his face scrunched in disgust as he looked at the crime scene photos. 

“The differences are more striking than the similarities. Different hair colours, different body shapes.” Reid noted, Bugsy’s handwriting scrawling over her notebook as she tried to capture everything they were saying. 

“What do we know about his MO?” Hotch asked JJ, the blonde woman shaking her head with a grimace. 

“That’s why we were invited in, the abduction sites are pristine,” She said gravely, looking between her team as they seemed to balk at the information. 

“No DNA besides the victims, and there’s no sign of forced entry or struggle,” Bugsy noted in the pack Garcia had given her that morning, along with a little pat to the head for good luck. Before now, in those two weeks, they had only dealt with one kidnapping and one group homicide that had turned out to be one very stupid teen spiking drinks at a pool party. This case would be the worst one she’d seen yet. 

“And the victims aren’t reported until two or three days after they’re abducted,” Emily tailed off the end of her sister, her eyes serious as the team came to the same conclusion. 

He had days to spend as much time with the bodies as he wanted. 

“Two or three days? Women like this don’t just disappear without somebody noticing,” Rossi chimed in again, as JJ clicked onto the next screen handing the remote to Garcia. 

“Yes, which is why I had Garcia dig into their lives a little,” She said, taking a seat next to Hotch to let penelope lead. 

“And I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see what the Unsub was doing,” Penelope said, clicking onto a screen full of the women’s profiles. 

Bugsy couldn’t even say she was shocked. Ever since she was in highschool, friendships, or her lack thereof, had been entirely decided on who had the most likes on their status update. Apparently no one found the girl who read Russian Literature for fun cool, nor did they want anything to do with her. Emily didn’t know she’d sat in the school toilets to eat her lunch for three years straight. Turns out kids from every country were bitches. 

“Social Media profiles?” Her older sister asked, though the surprise was evident on her face atleast. 

“Yeah, facebook, twitter, you name an online life-sharing time suck, these victims were on it,” Penelope said, enlarging the screen for the team to see the specifics, “And if you look at each of their last posts, they say kind of the same thing, ‘Going out of town, Going on a business trip, Going on vacation,’ but when you look at the time and date stamps on each of these, queue the twilight zone music because they were all posted the morning after each of them went missing,”

“The unsub posted them?” Hotch concluded, his natural frown deepening. This Unsub had a way to keep all of his victims hidden for much longer than they’d anticipated. Who knows what he could be doing as they spoke. 

“You know, social networks are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open, they posted everything from what they had for dinner to where they were going on dates,” Spencer said, looking at the print outs Pen had handed to them. 

“The unsub ‘Friends’ his victim, and then uses it as a cover once he takes them,” Derek said, as Bugsy’s face scrunched in disagreement. 

“What are you thinking, Kiddo?” Rossi asked from her left, as he head shot up to see the team watching her, waiting for her input. 

Surprising to everyone, she was somewhat nervous when she’d started at the BAU. The Bugsy Prentiss, the woman who had caught out parts of the Russian Mob when she was just a college student, was nervous to not mess up in front of them. 

“I understand what Derek’s saying, but nowadays you don’t actually have to be friends with someone to follow them.” She said, picking her fingertips in thought, “A lot of people have hundreds of total strangers they’ve never met on their page; some settings mean you don’t even need to be ‘friends’ in the first place to see what they're posting. The UnSub probably wouldn’t even bother implicating himself in the first place by following them, he could just access their profile and see what they're up to. I think he profiles as patient and organised, and somewhat tech savvy if he’s up to date on the way these medias work,” 

The team watched her carefully, Spencer beating down the proud smile he wanted to flash her, knowing he needed to be focused on this case, but she seemed satisfied with her answer when Penelope nodded in agreement.

“So you don’t think he’s an old guy like me, is what you’re saying?” Derek asked with aghast, knowing full well mid thirties wasn’t too old. Hadn’t stopped his pride hurting. 

She shook her head, “I just think he wouldn’t be as old as you. Mine and Reid’s age maybe. But he seems obsessive, and he also must have a job that affords him the spare time to spend the following few days with the bodies, but it means we should also assume that these women are likely already dead,”

She looked to Hotch hopefully, to see him staring at her unreadably for a moment, before he looked to Rossi with a nod. 

David slapped her on the shoulder affectionately, “You just put together your first profile, kid,” 

And before long, they were heading for the jet with her deductions in mind to hand over to the cops. 

–

“Can someone explain to me the appeal of these sites? ‘Eating sushi tonight, yum!’ ‘Boss is keeping me late at work, grr,’” Rossi stared at the status updates, perplexed, as the team snickered to themselves. 

“Now, wait a minute. How did you find my profile?” Bugsy asked jokingly, and she drew a fond smile from Aaron her way when Rossi chuckled to himself. 

He wished she would stop looking so nervous to contribute. She fit right in with the furniture. 

“Whose life is so important that we’d be interested in this kind of detail?” Rossi asked seriously, though Bugsy supposed even the coffee machine was a new useless piece of technology to the man who liked his espresso fresh. 

“That’s just it, no one is. I guess everyone just wanted to believe it to themselves that they all have an audience out there waiting to hear every update of their day. Some of them even have GPS tracking systems in place to make it even easier for people to find out exactly where you are,” Bugsy said, her eyes flicking to Spencer who watched her intently, automatically floating up to take in his new hair again. 

She couldn’t help think he had stopped looking cute, and started looking hot. He’d always been cute, god knows she’d always thought he was good looking. But now he looked… dreamy. It had made her double take the minute he’d walked through the door, hoping it wasn’t too obvious she was staring. 

“That explains how he’s finding them, but it doesn’t tell us how he’s getting into their houses,” Hotch nodded along with her, eying her carefully as she looked through her own notes she’d made once she’d brought herself round to ripping her eyes off Reid. 

“At the very least I believe he has copies of their keys,” Spencer said, his finger trailing the information in his file, “Doris Archer had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56am, so he knew that too. He also found a way to deal with her dog, a German Shepard she adopted from the pound last year, it went missing the night she did,” 

“Did they find the dog?” Bugsy asked, her face in a frown as Emily looked up to her.

“Why? What are you thinking?” She asked her little sister who played with the ‘TRAINEE’ lanyard around her neck. 

“If he hurt the dog, it likely meant the dog had been on alert to him as an intruder, since opportunistic violence isn’t in his profile of being collected and organised. So if he didn’t hurt the dog, and he was found alive and unharmed, it means the dog knew him,” Bugsy explained, and Derek stroked his face in thought. 

“This guy’s gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse, talks his way inside, and then once he’s familiar enough with the house he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything,” He said, the girl nodding in agreement with him.

“Think of people you let into your home you don’t consider a threat. Home repair guys, dog walkers?” Rossi offered, but JJ was quick to flick to her own pack. 

“Detective Fordham looked into that too. No one came even close to being a killer,” She shut down, not wanting to waste their time running through avenues that had already been explored. 

“Alright,” Hotch started as he glanced at his watch to see they were landing in around ten minutes, “Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction site, see if anything points to his MO.” 

Bugsy raised her hand politely, as if she were still in class, and he nodded in her direction to speak, “Do you mean as in me when you say Prentiss or as in Emily when you say Prentiss?” She asked, and Emily seemed to be having the same issue as she flicked a glance between the two of them.

“I mean Emily, for you I guess I’ll have to say-” But he stopped himself with a frown. What would he say? Bugsy? No, too informal on a case. Baby Prentiss? Absolutely not. He thinks she might just hit him if he said her first name too much. “We’ll workshop it for now. Dave, you, Prentiss, Reid and JJ go back over the women’s lives. Start with asking around their friends on the sites. If this is how the Unsub is finding them, maybe they’re connected to him without even realising.” 

The team was quiet for a moment, before Spencer pointed to Bugsy with his pen, “So that time you meant Bug, right?”

Dave wished he could protest but he had also been a bit confused, as Hotch rubbed his head tenderly. 

He felt the headache coming already. 

–

“What was it about these women that made him choose them as targets?” Bugsy asked as she and Spencer sat in a small room in the Boise precinct, the three victims' profile pictures staring back at them from the board. 

It was their second day working on the case, and other than Garcia tracking a very disturbing snuff film of the last murder being streamed from the victim’s own IP address using camera’s he’d set up in the home, they had yet to have a big breakthrough. Hotch had told her to leave the room when they’d shown the footage, knowing it was one of her first weeks on the case, and despite having a strong stomach, he wanted her to ease into the role rather than drop her in the deep end head first. 

Even seasoned agents like Morgan and Rossi had both winced, JJ even gagging as they watched it happen. They usually dealt with the aftermath, not have front row seats on the act itself. 

She had been allowed in once the tape had finished, but Reid had immediately shuffled her into the small office they’d been permitted to use by the Boise police, his face a little more peaky than usual.

She wished he wouldn’t worry so much about her, wished he would hide it better when he fretted over her. She was sure he would burst a vessel if he kept flicking his head to look at her, though she just sat staring at the women as if the answer would jump out at her. 

“They’re all pretty, aren’t they?” Bugsy said, swinging her legs beneath the table, her eyes roving over the three faces, “Though unconventionally, they’re still pretty.”

They weren’t his type, Spencer thought, they looked almost nothing like her. She had removed the last of the pink hair dye she’d managed to keep on top of for a year or so before she’d started at the university. Her nose piercing had progressed to a little thin silver hoop, though her earrings had been dialled down for safety reasons in the field, and she kept her hair tied back away from her face most days. She looked older, which was a dumb thing to think, since of course she was older. But she had grown into her face, and Spencer was entirely convinced she took after her father since the only thing she shared with Emily was the same pout when she thought too hard. 

He’d watched her grow for all of three years into the twenty five year old that sat before him, and yet her face had never really changed shape. She still had those pretty eyes that seemed to glint up at him, those soft lips that pursed when she tried not to giggle at him, that perfect nose he would trace the edge of using just his gaze when she had come over to his apartment to study for the academy. She was still as beautiful as the day he’d met her, he thinks part of him had always thought of her in that way. He had just put it down to a pretty girl giving him attention. But girls gave him attention all the time, he had realised since that stakeout at the club, when he’d given her those napkin roses. He just didn’t care for them. 

He only cared about what she thought of him. 

Only cared what her face looked like-

“Wait,” He stopped his thoughts that could go on for days, weeks, about her. They already had, it was difficult to pull himself out of it sometimes. He stared at the photos of the victims, his mind revelling in her own face that he didn’t doubt had guys swooning and falling over their own feet, as he zeroed in on their eyes, cheekbones, septums, “Their faces are all an identical structure,” 

“How did you figure that out?” She asked, wide eyed and he ripped down the photos before she could catch him blushing. 

He thought he might take it to the grave what he’d been thinking about. 

–

“He’s going live,” Hotch seethed, clicking a button on the remote and the whiteboard in the centre of the room lit up with video footage, a small red dot flashing slowly in the corner telling them they were watching it being streamed. 

Bugsy stood behind Spencer, her eyes glued to the small computer at the desk that played the same screen, her heart rate spiking when she saw a small body camera pointing at a house, the UnSub cutting across a lawn in a near sprint. 

He’d lost control completely, and he had another victim set in his sights. 

“He’s not slow, deliberate. This guy’s pissed.” Rossi said, his jaw hung open in horror as the streamer headed straight for the front door. 

“All right, what do we see? Determining markers?” Hotch snapped the groups focus back from the gut wrenching panic that everyone felt, and it was like a switch flipped.

“A one story cottage,” Spencer noted, his eyes glued to the screen so tight he missed the way Bugsy’s face changed colour, and she looked like she was swaying on her feet. 

“That could be anywhere,” Detective Fordham commented back, his face grimacing. 

“Is there a number on the house?” Morgan asked, and everyone leaned in closer to the footage. 

“No, he’s already at the door,” JJ said, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 

Bugsy thought she might be sick. 

“Garcia,” 

“He’s using twice as many proxy servers,” Her shaky voice came through the speaker, furious typing in the background.

“Wait, this window in the background, is that the chat room?” Emily asked, pointing to the small screen at the bottom that flooded with comments from at least forty different users, and more began entering the stream. 

Get that bitch. 

Show her a good time. 

Teach the pigs a lesson for sticking their nose in. 

Bugsy wished she hadn’t been so fast at reading, as she felt her skin go cold at the sight of the comments. 

“People are getting off on it,” She said quietly, but no one heard her, too focused on finding out where the UnSub was. 

“Uh Huh,” Garcia confirmed, as the footage flicked to show a kitchen view, a pretty fair haired woman stood chopping peppers none the wiser to the sick people watching her life before it was about to be ended. 

“He’s in the house, guys,” Reid ran clammy hands over his trousers, his stomach churning as the video went on.

“He’s completely changed his MO,” Derek added, and the team could do nothing but watch in terror, “There’s too much light, what happened?”

“Someone asked the wrong question at the press conference,” JJ explained from beside Reid, her nails bitten to hell. 

“Oh my god, turn around. Just turn around,” Emily begged, and part of her little sister thought she might have been talking about her. 

“Maybe she can fend him off,” Derek said, though even his tone of voice wasn’t convinced. 

“New kitchen appliances, maybe we could check the work order?” Spencer was grasping at straws he knew that, but he couldn’t sit back with that big brain of his working overtime and not try to help at all.

“He’ll be gone by then,” Rossi said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Garcia, can you give me anything?” Hotch asked, and the sound of typing got even faster if that was possible.

“I’m stateside now, I’m almost to Idaho, I just need more time,” but Garcia was cut of by the man in the video lurching at the innocent woman, his hands wrapping around her neck with a venomous grip, her every moment of pain and terror captured on his body cam for his audience to see. 

His audience including the team. 

Bug felt the bile rise then, felt her eyes burn as she watched the woman’s face freeze in fear, a yelp of “No!” leaving her oesophagus, her small hands coming up to his wrists to try pry him away from her, anything to gasp for another breath of air. 

She wasn’t listening as Hotch barked orders at Garcia, her eyes were stuck on the woman that writhed in pain, pleading with the masked man to spare her. But her rebuttals got weaker, her whimpers began to grow quieter, and soon he’d tackled her to the ground in a blood curdling scream, his whole body weight crushing her throat. 

Her own hand came up to cover her mouth that dropped open in shock, her eyes burning with tears that she couldn't let fall. It was this woman who was suffering, not her. 

There was a bit more struggling from the woman, her eyes bulging from her skull, lips turning blue, until she slumped beneath his hands, and he released her. 

She took a step back, bumping into a chair she hadn’t even known was there as her eyes fixed to the screen, and Spencer’s head shot around to see her shaking on the spot, her eyes haunted. 

Emily followed suit, but Spencer was already out of his seat, rushing forward to grab her arms and lead her outside. 

“I’m gonna get her some air,” He called behind him to the team that watched her go with forlorn glances, and he hated how he felt her trembling beneath his grip, grabbing onto his jacket just as tight. 

They made it halfway down the stairs before she bolted for the bathroom, and he heard her retching as he dipped into the room after her, not caring that the sign clearly stated it was for women. 

“I’m fine, Em, just give me a minute,” She said, and he heard the sniffles between her words. 

“It’s me,” He said, finding the one stall on the end that had it’s door engaged, pulling a cup from out of the dispenser and filling it at the water fountain, “You should drink some water, the cold helps reset your body’s instinct to fight or flight,” 

“Or in my case, make a complete fool of myself and take time away from a time sensitive investigation because I’m such a wuss,” She said cynically, coughing chestily and he heard the toilet flush. 

His forehead creased as he frowned. The door unlocked and she stepped out, her eyes red and teary as she gently took the water from his hands, and he rooted around his pocket for a stick of gum to give her. She chucked it in her mouth, letting the peppermint clear the vile taste from her mouth, hoping she didn’t look too gross. 

“You shouldn’t stand so close to me, toilet bowls are like full of germs and my heads just been in there, I know it makes you feel funny to be around germs-” He pushed her hair behind her ear as if to tell her to stop thinking so loud, and she couldn’t help smile sheepishly at him. “Do you think Hotch will be mad?” 

He shook his head instantly. 

“Mad? No. Worried? Incredibly.” Spencer replied, stroking her hair a little the way his mom used to when he felt sick. 

Bugsy shook her head, sniffing to herself a little more. 

She couldn’t stop seeing that woman’s face as the life slipped from her, the hands around her neck. The yelps and pleads and begs and she fought with everything in her.

“How long was it until you started feeling like this?” She asked earnestly, running a sleeve under her nose, “You’re so brave, I always knew you were but, since I started, it’s like I realised nothing really touches any of you anymore.”

He fought the incredulous laugh, him; brave? The man scared of the dark and elevators brave? 

“We all take things home with us at the end of the day,” He said, wiping under her eyes for her with his own cardigan cuff, “If you didn’t feel anything for the victims we help, you wouldn’t be human, Bug,”

She nodded, “I know. I just don’t want to let anyone down. Not you guys and especially not the people we’re helping,” 

“It’s for that reason I know you’re going to do great,” He said, giving her one of those small Spencer smiles he reserved for when he wanted to see one of hers. 

Her forehead thumped onto his chest as he pulled her a little closer, and his cheek fell on top of her hair as he ran gentle hands over the sides of her arms, calming her until her breath started evening out. 

“You never said,” She pointed out, “How long it took for you to start getting cold feet. Bet I beat some kind of record, two weeks is absolute dog shit,” She chuckled to herself, not noticing how his face evened out in sadness. 

It was Tobias Hankel that had done it. It was getting tied up and injected that had made him feel like a failure, like he wasn’t cut out for anything let alone the force. Like his life was taking a huge spiral downwards. 

But he wouldn’t tell her that, not yet at least. 

“Come on, let’s get you back,” He brushed off, and she figured it was a sore spot for him. She cursed herself for asking in the first place. 

Nodding, she downed the rest of the water and got herself a refill, following him out of the bathroom, looking back up at him for a moment.

“I forgot to say,” Bug said, nudging against his side with her whole body, knocking into him lovingly, “Your new hair is very… dashing. I really like it.”

He swore his face went crimson in a single second.

5. The one with his migraines

“Let me pay for your fuel at least,”

“Spence, just shut up and get in the car,”

That was around about how the past eight months had gone. Every day, she would drive by his apartment, Emily in the passenger seat of her little sisters beat up Renault Zoe, affectionately named after its model, the back seat reserved for Spencer’s lanky legs and satchel bag as she drove the three of them through through roads of Virginia, to work and back again. 

Sometimes he surprised her with coffee, sometimes Emily brought them donuts.  Either way, they all enjoyed their morning routine that had stood the test of time about as much as Bugsy had as part of the BAU. 

It had gotten easier after that first case; she still had her moments, but her skin had thickened to a point she barely remembered what her life had been like before that day Hotch asked her to join the academy. 

Things were going well, she felt settled, even with the new girl Seaver replacing JJ while Jareau was away on business in the pentagon. She couldn’t say she was the girl’s best friend, but they got along. And that was good enough for her. Her team was a well oiled machine. 

That was, except for Spencer. Spencer she worried for every day. 

She hated the way he twitched in the passenger seat, now his since she’d forced Emily to get the subway to work today, bitching eachother out in the way sisters did until the older woman left in a huff but without asking questions, and she left to take Spencer to the hospital. 

The sunglasses did little to stop his eyes hurting, his brain quite literally feeling as though it was pressing against his skull. He even turned down coffee this morning, and her stomach had dropped when she realised just how serious it was. 

He didn’t even question her when she held his hand tightly in hers as she walked him into the office, knowing he would hate every second of having this MRI done. 

“Everything’s going to be absolutely fine, they’re going to find what it is and we’re going to get you fixed right up to your perky self again,” She said, as they sat together outside the doctor’s office, keeping her voice calm and quiet as not to upset his delicate head even more. 

He nodded, appreciating her gentle touches on his hand, and he jumped in his seat when the door opened, his name being called through and he wished she could come with him. 

“You got this,” Bugsy smiled at him reassuringly when he looked hesitant, and nodded again, squeezing her hand once before he let go, following the nurse into the MRI room, wondering how he got so lucky to have a best friend like her. 

–

Spencer sighed, leaning back in his seat. The flight had not helped the building pressure in his head in the slightest. He looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes as the harsh office lights beat against his face mercilessly. 

Two bodies found sacrificed to a 'higher being', their tongues and fingers cut off, shells put over their eyes and mouths. They had seen worse, perhaps not as odd, but they had seen worse. And yet this was the case that made him feel like his brain was about to explode right out his ears.

He hadn’t felt like this since he had been on Dilaudid, since he’d be on a come down and his whole body would sweat cold, and his head would rattle with every movement. And even that almost paled in comparison to how bad his head hurt right now. 

Spencer had wondered if that was what had done this to him, if it was a long term side effect of its use. He knew it wouldn’t be, but the self punishing part of him couldn’t help but fill his head with it. 

He just wanted answers. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to crawl into bed with an ice pack over his face and never surface again until this thing had subsided. 

Spencer felt hands in his hairline, fingernails weaving and massaging until he almost moaned, the touches releasing some of the metaphorical knots like magic at their fingertips, and he knew who it was, because that was how she always made him feel. 

He opened his eyes to see her very upside down as she looked down at him, their eyes inline with one another as she continued running her fingers against his temples gently. 

“You okay, handsome?” That was somewhat new, not that he was complaining. Part of him said she just felt bad for him and his weird brain, and maybe that was how it had always been, but ever since he had started getting these migraines she was impossibly even softer with him now. Like she was his comfort blanket he cuddled to when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, and she knew it too. They were rarely not stuck together like velcro, where he moved, she moved. Where he sat, she was pressed against him like the concept of personal space had never been such a huge deal for him. 

And when his pain struck him down into the embodiment of a wounded doe, she was right there fluffing his pillows, grabbing him aspirin, massaging his head like she could grab the bastard migraine right out of his skull and say leave my precious boy alone. 

She was too sweet on him recently, but then he never wanted it to stop. It felt like a relationship without the kissing and especially without the sex. The thought of it made him want to moan again. 

“This one’s a stubborn one,” It had lingered around for three days straight, and the Miami heat wasn’t helping as he looked up at her inverted face, and he could tell she was smiling gently at him. 

She ran her thumbs over his eyebrows, smoothing them out and he sighed in delight as he felt the muscle begin to relax beneath her touch. 

“You make things better,” He confessed, her fingers tracing down his pretty nose, and he closed his eyes as she went over the bags beneath them. “You always do,” 

He felt her kiss his forehead for good luck, and he knew she hated seeing him in so much pain. He could have whined when she pulled away, letting go of him gently as Rossi stepped into the room, hoping he hadn’t seen the affection before too much teasing could come. 

But he said nothing, even if he had seen, just raised his eyebrows and grabbed the file off the desk for his own thorough look through. 

He sure as hell missed the way she interlaced their fingers under the desk though. 

–

Spencer twisted the bracelet around his wrist as they sat together outside the doctor's office. Orula’s ide. That was what Julio had called it. Said it would protect him from the bad spirits that clouded his head. 

Spencer was a man of science, a man of logic. But even he couldn’t quite explain how Julio had managed to figure out he was having migraines despite him not letting any infliction of pain cross his face, even more confused when Julio had said his body had been a conduit for a higher spirit who wanted to help him. 

He was glad to be back in Virginia where everything made sense to him. Where she could hold onto his knee at the doctor's office to stop it from bouncing and his team couldn’t tease or ask him what was wrong or make her stop touching him so much. 

“I say we get some ice on your head and put on whichever Doctor Who episode you want, don’t even care if we’ve seen it before,” She offered, smiling over at him and hoping he couldn’t see the worry in her eyes. 

He could. He just nudged her shoulder with his forehead to say thankyou without ruining the solace the quiet brought him. 

That is until his name was called, just as it was the last time he was here, and he stood to enter the office, not letting go of her hand as this time he’d made sure she could come. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” He said as he sat on the bed, his doctor showing him the clear brain scans that hadn’t flagged a single neuron out of place. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” His doctor replied, watching the way his female accomplice frowned, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Isn't there any tests that would look for a specific prognosis we could try?” She asked, and the man shook his head. 

“Not unless we’ve ruled out every other option, and in this case I’d like to suggest that Dr. Reid’s condition might be psychosomatic in nature,” The doctor explained, wary of the way the two agents screwed their expressions up, almost identically, hearing his explanation of Spencer’s headaches. 

“Psychosomatic…” Spencer echoed softly, in near disbelief. 

That couldn’t be it. It had to be the Dilauded. Or a tumour. Or a long standing concussion. Something physical and tangible he could point out and get fixed.  

“It just means a mental or emotional cause-” The doctor explained, only to have Spencer cut him off. 

“No I know what ‘psychosomatic’ means Doctor, but it's not that,” He said, his voice tired; the idea he was making up his problem in his own head bothered him. 

“Well, I think it’s something we should consider.”

“Listen, I’m not crazy,” Spencer insisted, and he felt her tugging his hand closer to hers, her own way of comforting him when she couldn’t grab at his hair or face or jaw. 

“Dr Reid, I’m not saying-” But he was stopped by Spencer’s voice that was slowly growing more irate. 

“No, listen, I have headaches. I have increased sensitivity to light, because there’s something wrong with me physically. Not mentally. It’s not that,” He corrected the doctor, his sweet face pulled into a grumpy pout, almost offended that the professional was willing to write his pain off as a hallucinations. 

“That?” The doctor asked, a frown on his face as Spencer continued.

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalised. So I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you. It’s not that, it’s not.” Spencer said in a huff, standing from the bed and grabbing his satchel, all but pulling her from the room as she sped walked after him, her hand still tightly in his. 

She was gobsmacked. She didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, and suddenly every single instance of her whining about her mother to him entered her head and she felt a pit growing in her stomach that only had room for guilt. 

They sat in the car in silence, her hands at ten and two as she tried not to stare at him. 

She couldn’t stand the quiet in which he stewed, murmuring to himself every now and then about how that most certainly wasn’t what was causing his state to decline. 

“You never told me that before,” She said after a while, and it was quiet, whether to satiate his headache or because she didn’t know if she was allowed to say it he wasn’t sure. 

“It never came up,” He said in a way that left little question. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

They sat in the quiet some more, the only sound being the way her engine hummed beneath the bonnet, the music turned low for his pounding head, and he saw the way she chewed her lip and flicked glances at him from the driver's side.

He sighed, not wanting to snap at her the way he had the doctor, “Bug, would you please stop looking at me like that, like you pity me-”

“No, it’s not that it's…” She started carefully, her gaze flicking ot him for a moment as they stopped at a red light, “Every time I forget you’re the strongest person I know, you just seem to remind me,” 

And just like that his heart swelled all over again, and he felt like maybe his head wasn't an entire failure to him.

+1 The one with the eulogy.

This was hell on earth. 

She sat around the table at the funeral home with her mother to her left, her father and Stephanie to her right. 

She could feel the team’s eyes on her; she hadn’t spoken in days, her face shallow and off colour, sick looking. Speaking to her mother and father was difficult for her on a good day, let alone when she was all alone. 

Because that was how she looked, as if she were half a person now, her face bitter and angry as she tried to take up the least amount of space at the table as possible, her mother inspecting her finger beds as if they’d scorned her. 

“Sit up straight,” She chided, nudging her daughter's knee, but Bugsy made no move to adjust her posture. She just stared blankly at the ugly floral tablecloth, waiting for the other mourners to arrive, to give their sorrows, before they could move to the church. 

Emily was right next door. Cold. In a box. Her entire body was likely in rigour mortis now, her face was probably white as snow with the blood pooling away - pallor mortis Reid had called it - her hands were probably twisted and ugly like a raven's foot-

She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. And yet the thoughts wouldn’t stop, not even as Stephanie, step mother from heaven as she was, began to chime in to try lighten the mood. 

Her dad hadn’t said a word to her yet, just patted her on the head the way he hadn’t done since she was five. 

“It’s a lovely day for a funeral, don’t you think?” She commented, but her voice was too sweet, too soft, too normal to have the charm she’d intended. 

Stephanie wasn’t a bad person. Not evil or horrible like Bugsy had always thought a step mother would be. But she was the person her father had left little Bugsy for, and though she knew almost all of her anger had been displaced onto the poor woman when he’d told her he had a new wife, Stephanie had never exactly bothered to remedy their relationship. 

Emily and Bugsy had been someone else’s kids. Had been Richard Prentiss’ problems, not hers. And no amount of kindness she bothered to overcompensate with today would change the past twenty years her father had been too preoccupied to even call for her birthdays. 

Bugsy scoffed, ignoring the warning look from her father. He knew very well how his youngest felt about his wife. 

“Mr and Mrs Prentiss,” Hotch came over, as if sensing the girl’s annoyance at the woman’s words, and she mentally could have planted a kiss right on Aaron’s lips when he made the effort to exclude Stephanie in his condolences, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is a devastation I never would wish on anyone,” 

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr Hotchner,” The step mother piped up again, before either of them could say anything, and Bugsy shot her a look so full of hatred, Aaron thought she might have slapped her right then and there. 

Richard cleared his throat, moving to put an arm around Steph’s chair, one that she’d pulled up to the table herself. 

If there was one thing Elizabeth and Bugsy would ever agree on it was that Stephanie was intolerable. 

Her mother looked empty as she nodded at Hotch, crossing her legs properly and pursing her lip, not saying anything. She’d never seen her mother cry, and she doubted that would start today. Elizabeth was much too of a proud woman to weep in front of the masses. 

“Thanks, Hotch,” Bugsy said the first words she had in days, the only time she’d gotten out of bed was to feel Niko and Sergio or to use the bathroom. Her voice was raspy, ghost like, and it scared the crap out of him. 

He couldn’t see her getting through this alive. 

With Haley, he’d had Jack to get him through it, keep him going, if not to put on a front for his little boy that was the spitting image of his wife. But Bug had nothing left of her sister, nothing but herself and two parents that couldn’t stand to look at one another without screaming curses. 

The other’s had already given their condolences, had already bombarded her with enough letters, flowers, stuffed teddies to fill a house, and she knew she wasn’t being fair ignoring them when they were grieving too. If not just as much as she was. 

But she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t be anything except this shell of a woman once called Bugsy. Her sister gave her that name, she didn’t think she deserved it anymore. 

Spencer just wished she would cry. He had been sobbing non stop, even where his eyes were puffy and red as Garcia’s as they stood in the funeral home, the smell of incense too strong, the sounds of wails too loud. But she looked… he hated to say it, she looked dead.

“That poor little lamb,” Penelope sniffled, tears already streaking down her cheeks as Derek tucked her under his arm, pulling her close into his smart black suit, “I wished she would let us in,”

“That girl is a carbon copy of Emily, of course she’s going to take herself off to lick her wounds,” Rossi said, his own fancy blazer stuffed with tissues in case his dark eyes welled up with tears again. He’d already managed to save himself once this morning before leaving the house, but he didn’t trust himself anymore than that. 

Spencer missed her smile more than anything, though he himself was struggling to muster anything past a grimace. 

“The Spring flowers are all in bloom, isn’t that lovely?” Stephanie continued, an easy grin on her face as she looked out of the window to the graveyard, as if she was entirely unaware of the grief lingering in the room, “I think she'll like it here,”

That was it. 

That was what pushed Bugsy over the edge, even Elizabeth broke her cold facade to look at the other women in shock, her daughter’s eye twitching as her head snapped to Stephanie, a rage encompassing her entire face.

“What the fuck would you know what she liked or didn’t like, Stephanie? She barely even fucking liked you,”  Bugsy hissed, drawing the attention of a few of the mourners with her vitriol anger. 

That wiped the smile off the woman’s face harder than any slap could have. 

“You watch your mouth, young lady,” Richard snapped, his face a blazen rage as Stephanie cowered behind him. 

Bugsy scoffed, and Hotch knew by the sound of it alone, something had been lit inside her that was about to go off like a hand grenade. 

He couldn’t say he blamed her. 

“I don’t know why you even bothered showing up, Dad. You’ve not seen either one of us since Emily left college,” She spat back, her eyes wild like a cat ready to claw its way out of a fight, “Surprised you even remember my name now you have your shiny new family and your million honeymoons to keep you busy,”

Richard stood from his chair, his black three piece creasing as he pointed in her face, his hand shaking with rage, and she saw the tears well in his eyes that looked too much like her own for her comfort. 

“You are turning out to be just like your mother, pushing away anyone who ever cared about you.” He barked, not caring that a few mourners turned to look at him in shock, “Don’t come crying back to me when you end up alone, little lady,” 

And with that he took Stephanie’s hand, who was the patron saint of guilt as of now, a face like a scolded child, too naive for the grown woman she really as. At least she had finally shut up, Bugsy thought darkly as her father stormed out of the home, ignoring the way faces watched hers carefully, knowing every word he’d said had been true. 

She thinks for a minute if Emily was here she’d poke fun at the way Steph’s face had been hilarious when her smile had dropped, or that her dad still had the worst temper out of them all, Bug included. She thinks that if Emily were here, she’d tell her he’d said all that stuff out of anger, and that she won’t end up alone, and that she’d always be with her.

She thinks that if Emily were here, she wouldn’t feel the empty nothingness where shame and sadness would be after having that entire thing play out infront of so many onlookers. 

But Emily wasn’t there. And she couldn’t even say she was shocked when her mother stood from her seat besides her too. 

“Where are you going?” Bugsy snarled, the Ambassador looking somewhat concerned before the expression fell and she went back to an equally lost look of her own. 

“I refuse to be made a spectacle of today,” Elizabeth said detachedly, collecting her purse over her black midi dress, her painted nails skimming the handle gently, “I can say my own goodbyes to your sister later, when everyone has left,” 

Coward. Coward. Coward. Bugsy wanted to scream after her, wanted to tear her hair out, wanted to grab the two of them by the neck and make them feel the way her words trapped inside her and clawed at her throat, sitting inside like a moth bouncing against a window trying to escape. 

But she said nothing. Did nothing, as her mother left the home, left her sitting there alone, until the officiant came over to her not even a moment’s later and told her it was time to start the funeral. 

And then she truly felt as if she would never be whole again. 

–

Her hands shook as she got to the podium. She’d always hated public speaking, which Spencer thought was odd since she seemed to grab the attention of every room she walked into like it was second nature. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at chasing down a criminal or being shot at or evening chewing out a detective that wasn’t pulling his weight, but speaking to a handful of decorated officers that watched her with grieving eyes was too much. 

Adjusting the mic to a more appropriate height, they watched her eyes scan the room, her brows scrunched, her mouth dry. Trying to find Emily, Hotch realised with a crack in his chest. The way she always did when she was nervous. The way she did when she was looking for Emily to come save her. 

“H-hi, um,” Her voice shook, her fingers fiddling with the chord for something to do, “Mom- Ambassador Prentiss got called out on business so I guess I’ll be giving the eulogy,” 

No one spoke, not even the ones who knew it was a lie, her eyes falling to where Spencer gave her a sad smile, some sort of encouragement for her to keep going, though his eyes were red and bloodshot, and he was sure the burn in his throat was rising again. 

She hadn’t cried yet. Penelope had cried four times today alone. 

“I- um, I wasn’t really prepared for a speech, so I’m, um, I’m just going to read the letter I wrote to her if that’s okay?” Her head shot to the priest who had handed the spotlight over to her, the warm spring breeze pulling at his robes as he nodded, his hand gesturing for her to continue. 

She cleared her throat, tearing the envelope open, and the paper rattled in her fingertips with her shaking hands as she pulled out the double sided A4 that had been written on in neat blue ink. 

Unfolding it, she let her gaze rip off the crowd of people who stared at her, waiting for whatever it was she had to say, the final words her sister’s body would hear before she was put in the ground forever. The last goodbye. The only one that had ever mattered. 

“Dear Emily,” Bugsy read, her voice finding footing as she was able to look away from the hundreds of eyes that watched her tearfully. But it was the wrong move. Because the minute she’d prepared herself to say the words out loud she felt her eyes well up. 

This was it. The last chance she would ever get to tell Emily how she felt. How sorry she was. How she was so damn sorry for being such a shitty person for so many years, for never saying thank you enough, for never hugging her when she really ought to have, for never appreciating how lucky she was to have a sister like her. 

Her throat clogged, and she sucked in a deep breath, releasing a trembling sigh. Her bottom lip quivered. 

“Sorry-” She apologised to the watchers, rubbing her mouth nervously, hoping no one could see just how deeply she had broken, just how harsh the wound had gaped open, “Dear Emily,” She started again;

“Everyone thinks they know what a sister is; it's the woman you share fifty percent of your DNA with who you’re put on this earth to annoy the shit out of,” A small wet laugh reverberated around the crowd, and she flashed a small smile at her own words. “But the truth is you can actually share up to sixty-one percent of your genes with one of your siblings. Which is crazy to me, because I know no matter how hard I try, I will never be even one percent of the woman you are,” 

She swallowed heavily, and she heard Penny burst out crying again, her head buried in Morgan’s neck. 

“If I was as gracious as you, I’d probably say you’re in a better place now, and if I was as brave, we probably wouldn’t even be here, because I would have been able to save you that day instead of just watching like a fly on the wall.” The first tear fell then, her face crumpling in pain. “If I was as considerate as you, I would be able to look every one of your friends in the eyes and tell them it would all be okay in the end. And if I was even the tiniest bit as kind as you, then I would have told you all of this to your face when it actually mattered.”

She sniffed heavily, and Derek did the same, his own throat burning, picking the thread on his nice trousers as Penelope’s tears wet his shirt through. 

“Everyone thinks that true love is finding someone you want to marry and have children with, but I know now that’s not the entirety of it. Love is a person you want to spend every day making happy, and make them proud to say they love you too.” Her chin wobbled some more as she read the next few sentences with something darker than remorse in her glassy eyes, “I sometimes think, if we were given a second chance, if we could try again, I would be able to tell you that I truly love you, Emily, and that you’re the only person I ever cared about loving me too,”

Her voice cracked, and she regarded the paper with misty eyes, her cheeks soaked as she quickly wiped them with the back of her white, lace gloves. 

“I think maybe next time I wouldn’t be so spoiled and bratty, and you could have been more relaxed and maybe less like my mom at times, but I think if we could do it over, we could have done it right, the way sisters are supposed to,” She sniffed, missing the way Spencer’s face dripped with tears of his own, her words tearing him inside and out with the guilt in every line. “But I guess it’s too late for that now. I only got one chance to be your sister and I failed, no matter how many times you pulled through for me. And that’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

She braved a look at the closed casket, imagining her big sister, the only person she ever truly loved laying in there with fair, snow skin, her noir hair sitting perfectly like a princess in the fairytales she used to read to her before bed. Only this one had no happy ending. This one ended with her heart torn from her chest, bleeding for the rest of her days until her own body was buried and everyone could mourn the girl who was barely half the woman her sister was, no matter what the statistics say.

“I’m sorry, Emily” It was the first time she’d said the two words that had been playing in her head on a loop for weeks, the two words that sang to her like a mantra, every morning, noon and evening. Even in her sleep she had dreams where she could do nothing but scream into a void of darkness, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It should have been me, I’m sorry. “I hope you can forgive me,” She whimpered through a sob, ignoring the way her cheeks gushed with fat tears now, as she wept freely at the podium, her hands no longer shaking. 

“Lots of love, your shitty baby sister, Bugsy.” She finished with a small whine, her expression broken as she folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope, the cursive lettering of her big sister’s name staring back at her. Finishing where she’d started. 

Tucking the letter underneath a tulip wreath atop the coffin, she stepped back down off the podium, ignoring the way the eyes followed her back to her seat, ignoring the way Derek rubbed her shoulder affectionately, or the way JJ handed her a packet of tissues, even though her own face was flooded, and showed no signs of stopping. She felt Spencer grab her hand in his delicately, entwining their fingers together, and squeezing lightly. 

The priest continued with a hymn, though she didn’t bother singing it. She just stared at her shoes, as if her entire soul had been sucked from her the minute she’d ended the eulogy. 

Which it had, because that had been Emily’s last goodbye. 

She didn’t speak in the car on the way back to Spencer’s, not as Hotch pulled her in for a wide hug, rare and warm, even going so far as to stroke the back of her head with more affection than they’d ever seen him give her. 

“Call me if you need anything,” He’d murmured into the side of her head as he held her close, feeling two hands hesitantly wrap around his waist, as if she wasn’t entirely switched on which, going by the vacant look on her face she wasn’t. 

Spencer made her tea the moment they got in. She didn’t ask for it, she just sat on the sofa and stared at the beat up, old TV he kept only for the occasional documentary, and for the shows she liked to watch too of course. But she hadn’t even switched it on, just stared at the inky black glass like it would jump to life itself and tell her how to feel. 

He took a seat next to her, on the other end of the couch, flicking the screen on for something to stop it from being so silent in his home; the silence meant they were alone with their thoughts, and for once he and his thoughts couldn’t stand being together. He didn’t want to interrupt her, or be the first to break the quiet. Not even when he watched her tea go cold in front of her, or as she barely acknowledged the cartoon on the TV, or when he pulled out his copy of The Brothers Karamazov that he’d been re-reading for the third time. 

“Would you like me to read to you? Would that be better?” He asked tentatively, and she didn’t even blink, as if she were some sort of zombie or corpse sitting next to him programmed for instruction on acting human. 

She said nothing, but she did move, the act of it making him jump slightly, and it was then he realised she had been perfectly still for the past half an hour, barely even showing signs of breath. A puppet with no master. 

She leaned over, her body dropping onto the sofa softly as if she was taking a nap, only for her head to rest on his thigh, and his hand flew to pull the claw clip out of her hair like he read her mind. Her knees nestled to her chest, in foetal position, her pretty black dress, the same one she’d worn for Haley’s funeral riding up past her knees. 

He gently tucked his long fingers into her roots, stroking her hair like she were a tame cat curled in his lap, clearing his voice as he continued where he’d left off, making sure he wasn’t reading too fast the way he would if it was just him. 

His head still whirled around the eulogy she’d read. How watching her crack beneath the weight of her own words had hurt him more than his own grief, had made him bury whatever it was he felt and just need to put her back together again. 

Because he didn’t need an eidetic memory to have ingrained what she’d said into his head, not even as they went to bed, and she burrowed into his side in one of his sweatshirts he usually saved for his own bad days. 

“Bug,” He braved to say, watching her eyes force themselves open from where they were on the very lip of sleeping, “You’re my very best friend, did you know that?” 

She hummed, her nose digging into his arm that he wound under her head, pulling her close enough he could feel her heartbeat against his own where she was in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you,” She said, like those three words didn’t rip the air from his lungs. 

Not even as her breathing finally evened out, and he felt himself heave a sigh of relief; the bags under her eyes had been more noticeable today than ever. Not even when he dared a kiss to her forehead as she slept, the smell of her shampoo completely taking over his pillow as he allowed his own heart to hurt for just a few moments, missing his friend dearly as he looked after the woman.

Love is a person you want to spend every day making them happy, and make them proud to say they love you too. 

He knew then.

–

TAGLIST

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33

[hyperballart]

can’t stop thinking about art and patrick sharing a fleshlight

this is kinda like a continuation of this but i imagine them so horny for each other after they finally broke that “platonic” barrier. let’s say it’s been a couple weeks from the events that took place and you’re away to see family for a bit. ever since you mentioned wanting both of them fucking you at once in the same hole they haven’t stopped thinking about it. they can’t stop thinking about both of their cocks rubbing wetly against each other in your hand, how much tighter and hotter your cunt will welcome them. art dreams of it literally, waking up so hard he’s too dizzy to use his hand—opting for humping the mattress like a bitch in heat until he spills into yet another pair of briefs (his laundry trips were becoming more frequent). and well patrick, he has jacked off so much he feels his wrist will break soon, he wants more—needs more than his hand. so he goes to art’s room one night and proposes something.

this is still new to them, still so fresh and they’re learning to navigate this new dynamic but they can’t hide the longing glances at each other’s lips. what started off as a simple conversation rapidly escalated to patrick pouncing on art and licking into his mouth. they’re out of breath when the brunette separates and begins to rasp out, “i need to feel you against me like that again,” art’s eyes are blown out and he whines quietly, “need that needy cock humping me like it did that night—my hand isn’t cutting it anymore.” and art is a good friend, who is he to deny it?

after fishing themselves out of their shorts and jerking each other off for a bit, art pauses and looks up at his friend, “wait, i wanna do something different. wait here.” patrick sits up and waits for his friend to return with a fucking fleshlight of all things in his hand, taking a seat next to him they stare at the toy in awe for a few seconds,“maybe we can pretend it’s her, you know as practice so we don’t blow our loads the first ten seconds we’re in her.” patrick gulps and nods mindlessly, he doesn’t care as long ass he feels art dripping on him again.

they barely use spit, leaking so much it’s enoughto slide right in the toy. art holds it down on patrick at first, he’s mesmerized, “you’re—you’re stretching it out so m-much, fuck me”, patrick’s hips twitch and he whines out a curse. when art starts to slide in next to him he almost cries.

they’re stretching the silicone toy to its limits, they hold still for a minute or two just panting and looking at each other with half lidded eyes. the first movement is caused by an accidental twitch of art, but as soon as they feel that friction again they lose it. patrick moans out your name, “holy fuck man, you don’t even know—she’s got, fuck, she’s got the tightest little pussy, i don’t know how we’ll fit.” art starts mewling with his eyes closed, “i wanna fuck her so bad, want to fuck her with you so bad—hhghhh.”

they just spit out the first things that come to their minds, how they’ll shove their dicks down your mouth at the same time, how your tits look in that tight tank top you love to wear, the one time you bent over in the tennis court to retrieve something and flashed them your pink panties. what really gets both of them is something that surprisingly comes out of art’s mouth, “wanna—wanna take turns. i’ll fuck her on my lap and pass her to yours so you do the same, just using her to jerk off—oh fuck fuck fuck—“

patrick’s balls are drawing tight, he takes notice just now of how they’re bouncing right up against art’s. he can’t believe this, how much precum is dripping down the fleshlight and how hard they’re both starting to fuck up into it. art has a rule of never coming in his toys because they’re a hassle to clean but that all goes out the window when patrick starts to open his mouth again, “i can feel you artie, cum. cum on me i’m so close, fuck, do you hear how wet that fucking sounds?,” art’s eyes start crossing and he lets his friend be the one to move the fake pussy up and down, “we’re gonna come inside her just like this too, i’m gonna make you fucking eat it out of her right after—“ and art can’t make out anything after that. he cums so hard, harder than the last time if that was possible, and his whole body twitches. patrick finishes just at the same time, and when he pulls the toy back up he holds it over both cocks.

they watch the loads of cum spill out and drip down the lenght of them both, red and spent. they really hope you aren’t too upset about them playing without you, after all you taught them how to share <3

[missqhughes]

JERSEY GIRL | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem!reader

-> includes: fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: the same guy, the same time, the same block. weirdly coincidental; a part of her excited for the small portion of the day they get to cross paths. little does she know, her new job is for the very team he plays for.

-> everyone’s favorite lukey pookie 😗 i feel like he’s such a sucker for a crush like this. also got some help from @sweetestdesire ! my girl, thank you! as always, love it as much as i do! 💋 part 1

*fic is not proofread

i’m late, i’m late, i’m SO late. y/n thought to herself, cursing her alarm for not going off at the right time.

the morning was rough enough, unopened boxes still scattered around her new apartment, living in a brand new city across the country from her old one.

she tripped over her packages items in a scramble to get ready, rummaging through them to find any semblance of a professional outfit, one that would be okay to wear for her first day.

if being late wasn’t enough, her new job was with the new jersey devils, and she didn’t know shit about hockey. y/n never cared to watch it, didn’t even know how it was played and god knew she couldn’t pick any of the players on the devils out of a crowd; even if she tried.

to say she was shocked about getting a position with them, that was an understatement.

and here she was, speed walking to get to the prudential center on time; fast enough to where she could have maybe a minute to spare if she was lucky, and slow enough to where she didn’t look like a complete lunatic.

turning a corner with her head down, she comes in full contact with a body in front of her, both stepping back and coming in with quick apologies,

“sorry,”

“shit, sorry”

the guy she had ran into looked about her age, tall with a head full of brown curls and in a neat maroon suit.

the interaction happened so fast that when she turned to look back at him, he was far along in his own path.

guessing he’s also in a rush. maybe he works in the finance part of the city.

she pried him out of her mind as soon as she ran through the doors of the prudential center, finding her way to the devil’s office, thankfully, just in time.

she was greeted with handshakes and smiles, talking to a couple of the team managers,

“welcome to the devils, y/n happy to have you here.” she shook hands with the man, controlling her breath and keeping it down that she almost got on all fours to make it there on time.

“happy to be here, thank you,” she smiled,

“for now you’ll just be doing some of the boring stuff. paper work, legal, social, all that kind. you’ll have your own space but feel free to visit around the arena when you’d like. season starts right around the corner, so we want to make sure we’re on our game.”

she nodded her head, nervous about the expectations set on her. y/n wanted to make a good impression on everyone, and set her best foot forward. thankfully no one had asked her anything about hockey yet.

“absolutely, thank you again,”

y/n was lead to her office space, a desk designated with her name plate and a small devils logo next to it. she sat down and adjusted herself, immediately diving into her work, but in the back of her mind the curly haired guy from around the corner was there.

——————————————————————————

today was a little more sane.

y/n still woke up late, but nonetheless now knew what box she put her nice clothes in, slipping on boots and leaving out the door in a nick of time.

she was now able to take in her new city, actually enjoying her walk to work and the bustle around it. in her awe of her surroundings, she bumped into a stranger for a second time.

god, again?

she looked up, apology ready at the mouth, in a slight disbelief at the person in front of her when he spoke,

“sorry about that… again,”

it was the same guy from yesterday, this time sporting a plain black shirt and pants, much more casual than yesterday. he looked really good, just as good as he did in his suit. y/n was able to actually take in his features; plump lips, she could tell he had a nice smile, and lush green eyes that dived into hers.

out of her trance, she felt her cheeks grow hot realizing that she was staring for far too long,

“it’s okay, um, bye.” she stuttered, moving past him, keeping her head down until the embarrassment she felt had died down inside her.

the curly haired boy turned, watching her disappear out of his sight. she was pretty. really pretty. he almost wish he had said something, anything after knocking into her for a second time.

no chance is happens again.

——————————————————————————

god, how does this keep happening?

y/n was running late. again. more late than yesterday and the day before.

the pile of nice clothing was scattered over her room, a result of her sifting and dismissing outfits even though she knew she didn’t have the time to spare.

with almost tripping out the door, she said fuck it, running and almost getting hit by a not so kind mouthed new jersey driver in an intersection.

in her hot pursuit for work, she slowed down at the corner she saw the same guy in. maybe it was a coincidence, but she didn’t want to make it to a third time running into his chest.

her gut feeling correct; his steps seemingly synchronized to hers, stopping a few feet in front of her.

he was sporting a different suit, a crisp navy blue matched with a perfectly patterned tie. today, with the addition of a backpack and headphones.

“good thing i slowed down,” y/n said in a short breath, his lips curling up into a barely noticeable smile,

“glad you did too,” he said, his voice gentle and sweet.

y/n looked down at her watch, groaning lightly when she was reminded of the time,

“shit i have to go, m’sorry,” she mumbled, picking up her pace once she knew he couldn’t see her anymore. she had already been cutting it close the past two days, not wanting to make today she was officially late.

y/n just kept moving, not stopping her pace until she reached the arena, only slowing down once she knew she could, hurling herself into her small corner desk.

it was unfortunate; the past three consecutive days y/n had run into this cute guy, the first one she’s met in the city and she had to run away from him every time, quite literally.

——————————————————————————

it had been 2 days since she had seen the handsome stranger, and it honestly made y/n a bit disappointed.

she’d put on a cuter, spent a little longer to curl her hair, even setting her alarm extra early to leave on time in hopes of seeing him for just that slim moment; maybe this time she’d actually stop talk to him, maybe even ask to get a coffee with her, if she was feeling bold enough.

maybe he started taking the bus, she thought to herself.

y/n sat at her desk, leg bouncing up and down as she stared blankly at the seemingly endless paperwork in front of her. y/n didn’t even feel like she had a job in pro sports, it all felt like the same office job she had before. all but with a nicer apartment and some eye candy she ran in to.

the day felt extra long, her feet ached when she had to drag herself off her desk and to her walk back to her apartment.

once y/n reached her front door, she sighed in relief in slipping off her heels, tossing them aimlessly into her hallway. her shoulders sinking down once she had dropped her things, eagerly walking over to rest on her new white couch.

she had done a good job unpacking over the couple days, only two partially emptied boxes occupying her living room. she felt satisfied, but not completely settled in.

maybe it’s time to make some friends?

——————————————————————————

she didn’t see him the day after either.

she sighed, head in her hand, trying to squeeze the headache out of her temples, eyes tired from staring at the computer for god knows how long.

y/n’s posture fixed when she heard 3 knocks on the wall, she swiveled her chair, met with the smiling face of the head coach; appropriately wearing a devils jacket and hat to pair.

“y/n, right?”

“hi, yes, that’s me. how are you?” she smiled, standing up to give him a firm handshake.

“doing well, thank you. jus to let you know, the players are doing some media work right now, tom wanted you to introduce yourself to them. get familiar with the team before the first couple games.”

y/n cheered internally, finally something to do other than feel her eyes melt watching a screen all day.

“sounds good, i’ll be down there soon.”

he shook her hand again with a smile before leaving the room. y/n closed up the last bit of work she was doing, and made her way down to the ice.

the players were in their red practice jerseys, some making videos with the media team and others skating around the ice casually, talking amongst each other.

the atmosphere was nice to her, a couple of the players saying hi and introducing themselves. but everything seemed to stop when y/n made eye contact with a familiar face.

no way.

it couldn’t be.

he seemed to have the exact same expression on his face as her, equally in shock and now oblivious to the conversation happening in front of him.

y/n felt like she was dreaming, that she was going to be shaken back into reality, that her brain was just convincing herself that he was there when he actually wasn’t.

but no, no matter how much she blinked, or dug her nails into her palms, there he was.

she felt awkward again, realizing she had been staring at him for the nth time since they’ve crossed paths, spinning to find someone else to converse with instead of peering into his soul.

behind her back, he was still in awe, unable to tear his gaze away from her.

“yeah, and then i was like… luke, dude, are you even listening?”

“what jack? oh, yeah i’m listening,” he said, an obvious lie, not paying any amount of attention to him.

jack looked around to see what could possibly cause luke to be so occupied, and then he saw y/n; sneaking little side glances and lightly eyeing him up and down.

he chuckled, “lukey’s got a crush on the new girl huh? why don’t you go say something instead of staring like a creep.”

“shut up, i was not staring,” luke said, hitting him on the shoulder with a tint of pink brushing on his cheeks with his denial. “it’s just… i saw her at the same time and place like 3 days in a row. it was weird, and she was always in a rush. didn’t know in a rush to come here though.” he kept his voice low, scared she could somehow overhear them.

“then just call it fate and say something, please, i cant keep watching this.”

“no way i’m doing that.”

“okay fine, then i will,”

luke’s eyes went wide for a moment, jack calling out over to where she was heads turning but he was waving y/n over.

she felt her ears ringing, almost feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, like it was some secret they had and now she was exposed to everyone.

y/n stopped in front of them, hands in her pockets to control the shaking, facing the two; one with the biggest smile on his face and the other ready to pass out.

“i’m jack, this is my brother luke,” the smiley one said, his blue eyes shining as he used his thumb to point to luke, the name to the handsome stranger.

jack held out his hand to shake hers, nudging luke slightly to do the same, y/n’s hand lingering on luke’s a little longer, feeling an electricity in her body as soon as their hands touched.

“nice to meet you, i’m y/n.”

luke probably repeated her name about 100 times in his head, everything happening in front of him causing a buzzing in his stomach. he smiled formed lightly, taking all of her in.

“so, two brothers in the nhl, your parents must be really proud,”

“actually our-”

“our older brother plays for as well, so, yeah, there’s three of us, yeah” luke spat out nervously, his sentencing jumbling so fast that the words barely got out.

jack internally face palmed, embarrassed at his brother’s lack of game. he was shocked it was working, y/n keeping the conversation going with him with a grin on her face.

“oh look, curtis is calling me over, don’t wait up you two,” jack pat his brother on the back, giving her a wink before jogging away.

with him gone, they both stood there for a second, swallowed in silence.

“i cant believe you play for the devils,” y/n said breathlessly, before she was able to swallow her shock, but seeing him now wasn’t just a coincidence; it couldn’t be.

“i cant believe you work for us,” luke said, a dopey smile still stuck on his face,

“i didn’t think i’d see you again, i thought those few couple times were just coincidence.”

“i didn’t think so either, but hey look at those odds,”

y/n’s heart kept skipping beat after beat; no one having this kind of effect on her in a long time, but she wasn’t mad about it.

“so, y/n… areyoudoinganythingafterwork?” he mumbled, face turning bright red after his incoherent words.

her brows slightly furrowed in confusion, “am i what?”

he inhaled deeply, green eyes bouncing between her gaze, “are you doing anything… after work? if not it’s totally fine i was just curious,”

y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his rambling, how nervous she didn’t realize she made him and was absolutely loving every second of it.

“i’m not doing anything after work, luke,” y/n smiled, her heart beating at a better rhythm than it had since she’s been in jersey.

“cool, yeah we should definitely do something,”

“show me around the city?”

“you just moved here?” luke was surprised, not expecting someone who just moved to the area to be working for the nhl.

“yes,” y/n scratched the back of her head, “it’s been hectic, still a few boxes left at my apartment to unpack,”

“well then, i’ll show you around the city. can i get your number? how’s 6:00 sound?” luke fidgeted with his fingers, studying her face with his phone in her hand, lighting up when he saw her name saved in his contacts.

“6:00, i’ll text you my address. don’t be late,” she chirped,

“wouldn’t dream of it,” luke smiled, waving her off while shuffling away, his brown curls slightly bouncing with every step, the back of his jersey reading “hughes” with the number 43.

luke hughes. hm. definitely looking him up later.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[boybandbaby]

I Had Some Help (Evan Buckley x Fem!Reader)

summary: 3 times Buck comes to your rescue, 1 time you come to his

word count: 3618

warnings/tags: alcohol consumption, reader wears a long skirt, reader walking alone at night while drunk, injuries and blood (scraped knees, head injury), car crash, stuck in elevator, Buck’s parents and their behavior (unspecified), suggestive ending

note: pics found on google

Buck had just stepped out of his apartment complex, staring down at his phone as he waited for an Uber.

He was supposed to be meeting the team for dinner and drinks when he noticed you stumbling past him in a hurry. You quietly sang along to a song playing from your phone speaker.

His brows furrowed and he looked around. He watched as your feet crossed one over the other as you walked in a zig zag.

He sensed and saw that something wasn’t right so he decided to go after you, offer some help.

You’d noticed him when you passed but chose to ignore his existence, just trying to get home. You’d unfortunately drank a bit too much to drive home safely, but not enough to forget where you lived.

You heard footsteps behind you and took a quick peek over your shoulder. You made eye contact with the man and saw him open his mouth.

Before he could get anything out, you started jogging. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself asshole!” You shout back, tripping over your feet and tumbling to the ground. “Fuck!” Your phone clashes to the ground and your knees skid on the concrete.

“Are you alright?” Buck asks, kneeling beside you.

“Get away you pervert!” You yell, shooing him away.

“I’m- I’m not a pervert!” He says incredulously. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Do I look okay buddy?” You bark at him. He throws his hands up and stands up, taking a step back.

“Can I take a look at your knees?”

“Why so you can see up my skirt? Ow.” You wince as you try to stand. Tears line your eyes but you refuse to cry in front of this man.

“I’m not a pervert.” He reassures. “I’m a firefighter.”

“Where’s your uniform then?”

“I’m off duty.” He smiles, “look, let me just walk you home.”

“I’ll be fine. Please go about your night. Thank you for checking on me.” You let out a small groan as you get to your feet, pushing against the floor. You fix your skirt, the edges brushing your ankles and the front clinging to your burning knees.

“I have a first aid-“

“I am not going up to your apartment with-“

“I really don’t understand why you think I’m a perv. I’m just trying to be helpful.” He sighs. “I’ll bring the kit down and clean your knees and you’ll be on your way.”

“That sounds okay, I guess. Yes, thank you.” You nod and lean against a lamp post. “Please hurry.”

Buck nods triumphantly before running up to his apartment. He pulls his phone out and cancels his Uber. He texts the group that he’s running late.

Minutes later he exits the building again and looks around. He finds you halfway down the street. Buck’s glad he is fast, not as fast as Eddie of course.

You startle as his figure approaches. “Why’d you leave?”

“You were taking too long.” You shrug.

“I barely took 5 minutes.” He shakes his head. “Here, take a seat on those stairs.”

You comply and slam yourself onto the steps. You stretch your legs out and pull your skirt just above your knees.

“So, you’re really a firefighter?”

“Yeah, for a few years now.” He opens the box and sets it beside you as he pulls his pants up a bit to bend down. He rests his knees on the steps beside your legs.

“I’m sorry for being such a jerk to you.” You sniffle and look to your lap. “Bit of a rough night.”

“And it only got rougher.” He laughs as he pulls an alcohol pad from the box. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I shouldn’t have approached you like I did.”

You shake your hand, waving him off. “I wasn’t even supposed to drink this much or walk home alone. I got into a fight with my best friend at the bar. She’s just driving me crazy with her on again and off again boyfriend.”

“And I’m assuming you told her how crazy she is driving you. This is going to sting a bit.” He warns as he opens the pad and begins cleaning your wounds.

“Ow.” You wince and he lets out a soft sorry. “Yeah, I told her that she should either let him go or stay with him and shut the fuck up about it. I’m so sick of hearing about him.”

Buck reaches for two big square bandaids. “She’ll eventually come to her senses. I’ve been in a fight with my best friend before and I was the one that needed to come to my senses.”

You nod as you watch him carefully place the bandaids on your knees. “All good?”

“All good.” He smiles and exhales a breath as he stands. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? It’s getting pretty late.”

“No, I think I’ll be fine. The floor isn’t spinning as much as before.” You throw your skirt down and use the railing to stand up. Your knees ache and you wobble on your feet as you descend the few steps. “Thank you, for being so patient and kind.”

“It’s really no problem.” He snaps the box shut. “I’d feel better if I walked you. Don’t want you to fall again.”

“You’re persistent.” You smile, the first time that night.

“I’d like to think I’m persuasive.” He smirks.

“Weren’t you on your way out when we first saw each other? Did I completely ruin your plans?”

“Already told my friends I’d be late. What’s a few more minutes?” He bends his arm and holds it out for you.

You hook your arm around his and guide him toward your apartment building. You make small talk about your jobs and he even tells you about his plans for tomorrow with his niece.

You suddenly stop and point to your complex. “This is me.”

“Oh…” He nods, stepping away from you, disappointment evident in voice.

“I really appreciate your help…”

“Buck.”

“Buck.” You smile. “Short for?”

“Oh! Evan Buckley.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Buck. Get home safe.” You wave and walk into your building. Buck watches as you head into the elevator, the moment you turn around and meet his eyes, you bite your lip and look down. The doors close and he smiles to himself before shaking his head and pulling out his phone to call for his ride.

Several days later, Buck can’t get you out of his head. He realized he never even got your name. The small interaction you had left a big imprint on him. Your smile, even though he had only seen it just before you parted, reeled him in.

He knows where you live but not your apartment. He knows if he tries to find you, he’d definitely be living up the name you called him when you first met. He sighs and resigns to believing he’d never see you again.

The 118 had been called to a traffic collision in a residential neighborhood. Maddie dispatched them, informing them of a 6 car crash.

Bobby barks out orders as he shuts the door behind him. Eddie and Buck head to the side of the engine to get tools for extraction and rescue while Hen and Chim check the drivers.

One car, a silver Mazda, theorized to be the one at fault, struck a black truck in the intersection. Two cars attempting to get out of the way had swerved and hit another two cars. One of them being yours. You don’t remember much after your rear end was hit and you were pushed into a stop sign.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, can you hear me?” Chim yells from your passenger seat.

Your head rests against the steering wheel as your vision blurs and your head throbs. You’re slouched over the air bag and groggy with confusion.

“Ma’am, LAFD. You’ve been in a car accident.” Bobby says from the drivers side door. He’s already attempted to open the door with no such luck. The window is down which gives him access to atleast communicate with you.

“What?” You lift your head and groan, finally coming to.

“Cap, she’s bleeding from her eyebrow and temple.” Chim pulls something out of his bag and tries to meet your eyes.

“Car accident?” You cough.

“Yeah, we need to get you out of here so we can take a better look at you. You’ve got some bleeding going on.” Chim urges.

“We’re gonna get you out of here. Eddie, Buck come get this door open. Get her to the ambulance and Chim will meet you there.” Bobby orders before moving on to another car to assess.

Eddie uses his tools to get the door open. Buck leans in to cut your seatbelt off. “Hey, I know you!” Buck exclaims with too much excitement for what’s going on.

“Buck?” You croak. “So, you really are a firefighter?”

“Didn’t believe me?” He smiles, “lift your arms, I’m going to pull you out, okay?”

“No, I thought you just used that line to pick up girls.” You sluggishly lift your arms.

“He does.” Eddie laughs. Buck glares at him before getting you all the way out. He sets you on your feet and takes a look at your face, a hand placed delicately on your shoulder.

“Is it bad?” You ask.

“Could be worse. Could be two scrapped up knees after a fight with your best friend.” He smiles.

You laugh and wince immediately. Buck jumps into action and guides you to the truck. Chim introduces himself and begins his assessment. You’ll need stitches and you have a possible concussion.

Before you can thank Buck for saving you again and before he can get your name, you’re already off to the ER.

“Who was that?” Eddie asks Buck once they get into the engine to head back to the station.

“I don’t know her name but we met a few days ago. She’s why I was late to dinner the other day.” He sighs. “I should’ve asked for her name.”

“I don’t think she would’ve remembered it. She was pretty banged up.” Eddie shrugs.

“Yeah…” Buck mumbles, slumping in his seat.

Bobby looks to Eddie and then back to Buck before turning towards the windshield.

When Chim and Hen get back from dropping you off at the hospital, Buck asks how you were doing.

They exchange looks of confusion. “Why are you so interested?” Hen inquires.

“Nothing, just worried about her is all.”

“You like her!” Chimney screeches. “Who is she?”

“I don’t like her, I barely know her.” Buck shakes his head.

“He doesn’t even know her name.” Eddie adds as he passes by to get to the locker room.

Hen gives your first name. “Didn’t get a last name though.”

Buck repeats your name before smiling. “Thanks.” He runs up to the loft area leaving Chim and Hen confused.

“What is he going to do?” Chim groans.

Unfortunately for Buck, just knowing your first name and how you looked wasn’t enough to find you on social media. And even if he did, would you find him weird for adding you?

Days go by and he’s given up on seeing you again. He’s not even sure if you’d be interested in going out with him if he did see you again and finally made a move. It’s also not like he can make a move when he’s on duty, he’s definitely not that kind of guy anymore.

Something about you though, something is telling him he could be missing out something good. Even if it just turns out to be a friendship.

Buck is over his moping phase at this point. He’s back to his usual self in no time and that means working his ass off.

The team is called to a mall for a malfunctioning elevator. There’s 5 civilians trapped inside, have been for about 45 mins. The doors have opened but the elevator is stuck between two floors.

“Alright, you guys know the drill. Eddie and Buck work to get everyone out safely, Chim and Hen standby for any injuries.” Bobby commands as they enter the mall.

Bobby begins shouting for bystanders to clear the area and give them room to work. He meets with head of mall security to gather information.

Security then takes them to the elevator in question.

Bobby kneels down and sees an older couple, a father with his young son, and a young woman. “LAFD here. Stay calm and we’ll get you out in no time.”

He ushers for Eddie and Buck to come forward. He instructs Eddie to get inside to assist in getting everyone out, Buck stays outside to retrieve each person.

“Okay, we’ll start with you.” He points to the older couple. “Then you.” He points at you.

“Actually, I think you should do them first. He’s pretty scared.” You point to the kid.

“As long as you’re sure.”

You nod and Eddie begins hoisting the old woman up and into the opening. Buck helps her stand on two feet and to the side as she waits for her husband.

“You look familiar.” Eddie says to you as he picks the older man up.

“You work with Buck right? I was in that car crash the other day.” You turn to show your healing eyebrow and temple.

“Yes! Y/n right?” He helps the man out.

“Y/n?” Buck asks having heard Eddie’s exclamation. He then leans down to lend a hand to the man who meets his wife with a hug.

“Hey Buck.” You wave through the small opening, smiling sheepishly. “I must have bad luck, huh?”

“Or good luck since Buck’s always around.” Eddie smirks in Buck’s direction as he hands him the small boy.

They get the father out next and then you’re up. Eddie helps you up and into the opening. Buck grabs both of your hands and helps you stand.

“You’re always coming to my rescue, Buckley.” You dust off your legs and laugh. “At least this time I’m not bleeding.”

“Or driving.” He jokes before getting serious. “How are you feeling by the way? Knees doing alright? Head feeling okay?” He inquires.

“It’s been a rough couple of days but I’m feeling much better.” You smile. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” He nods. Buck maintains his professionalism even though he really wants to talk to you, ask for your number, and flirt but he knows it wouldn’t look good. He sighs and meets your eyes. He can see you’re waiting for more, more conversation or maybe for him to make a move. He doesn’t.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your duties. Thanks, Buck.” You wave, smile dropping as you turn away.

“What was that?” Hen asks as the team heads out.

“Isn’t this the woman you’ve been moping around about?” Chimney asks. “Why didn’t you ask for her number or for her social media?”

“I’m at work.” Buck shrugs.

“Like that’s stopped you before.” Hen snorts. Buck stays quiet and places his equipment back into the engine.

“I forgot my uh bag in there. I’ll be back.” Chin informs the team before jogging back into the mall.

“Didn’t he just put his bag in?” Hen asks Chim.

Chim is lucky enough to find you standing in line at a wetzel pretzel near the elevator you just escaped from.

“Hey!” He calls out.

“Hi?”

You watch as Chim takes a napkin from the counter and pulls a pen out of his pocket. “I think you should have Buck’s number on hand. In case you get hurt or something again.” He hands you a napkin with a number on it.

Before you can even ask any questions, he bolts out of the mall. You laugh, shaking your head.

It isn’t until later that night when you decide to text him.

You: Hey Buck, it’s y/n. Your friend gave me your number. Said I might need it if I get hurt again 😂

It’s several hours later when he finally texts back. Several hours due to finishing his shift, scolding (and thanking) Chim for meddling, and freaking out that he now has a way to contact you.

Buck: hey! I’m sorry about him lol

You: no worries, he’s kinda funny. Seems like a good friend though

Buck: he is, in fact he’s my brother in law

Buck: I’m sorry about earlier. I know I was kind of acting a little weird

You: that’s okay, figured the job was taking a toll on you, long shifts and all

Buck: actually, I had made peace with the fact that I’d never see you or speak to you again so seeing you but not being able to ask you out made me a little sad

You: you wanted to ask me out?

Buck: well yeah, I mean I believe in signs from the universe and we’ve met three times

You: met meaning you’ve saved my ass three times. What do you think the universe is trying to tell me?

Buck: maybe that you should go on a date with a first responder

You: you’re smooth, Buckley

You: let’s say I agree to this date, what’s in it for me?

Buck: well, I can guarantee good company and good food and maybe one day where you don’t have to worry about getting into any trouble

Buck: as long as I’m there, you’re covered

You: hmmm 🤔

You: I guess I would like to step foot out of my apartment without getting injured or trapped somewhere

Buck: so that’s a yes?

You: just name the time and place

From then on you and Buck had been inseparable. You’d been in that gray area of being friends but also dating.

He had told you a lot about his childhood and relationship with his parents. While it was a work in progress, some days were better than others. You had shared your personal traumas and troubles as well. You’d created a close bond that was leading to something more serious.

This morning he had told you that he was going to brunch with his parents then would come over after for your usual movie night.

Buck: they’re driving me nuts already

Buck: it’s like I can’t do anything right

You: I’m sorry

You: where are you?

Buck: that place on La Brea Ave

Buck: wish you were here but then that would mean you’d have to deal with them too

You: I could be?

You: if you really want me too

Buck: wait seriously?

You don’t respond, instead hopping into your car and heading toward the restaurant. You’re not sure entirely what you plan to do but knowing Buck is there and not having a good time, hurts your heart.

Due to traffic, you’re there in about 25 minutes.

You: need some saving? come outside

Buck: ???

You: come outside!!

It’s another 3 minutes before you see Buck exit the front door. His face breaks out into a smile when he sees you.

“What are you doing here?” He wraps his arms under your arms and pulls you up onto your tip toes in a hug. He’s warm and smells syrupy and sweet like pancakes.

“Figured I could rescue you for a change.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders. “You don’t have to stay here with them.” You whisper into his ear. “Let’s leave.”

“You didn’t have to come. I know how you feel about driving right now.” He buries his face in your shoulder.

“I wanted to come and get you. You don’t have to put up with your parents. I know it’s not easy for you.” You squeeze him into you. “All you have to do is say yes and get in the car.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he shakes his head. “If I leave now, I’ll have to hear it later.”

“I could come inside then. I can sit a few tables away?” You offer.

“Or you could come in… as my girlfriend?” He pulls back, watching your face.

“Really?” Your entire face lights up, eyes wide with joy. “Yes! To both.” You laugh.

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” He brings you back into his chest for a hug.

“It’s nothing.” You assure, rubbing your hand over his back.

“No, it’s everything.” He pulls away. “You mean a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me to, Buck.” You lace your hands together and intertwine your fingers. “I’ll always be here whenever you need me.”

He smiles and brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Okay, just a warning. They are really on another level today.”

You laugh, “I think I can manage but the moment it gets too much, we’re outta here. Got it?”

He nods, smile wide as his eyes crinkle. “Too much for you or for me?”

“Both?” You shrug, bringing a hand to his face. Your thumb runs over the little crows feet indent near his eyes. “I could always get injured as a way to get us out.”

“You thinking a fall or a car crash?” He pulls you into his side and begins walking inside the restaurant. He places a hand on lower back.

“I’m debating between getting crushed by a fire truck or getting stuck by lightening.” You nudge his side, giggling. Buck glares at you before pinching your butt.

“Ow, you pervert!” You whisper yell. “You’re supposed to be helping others not hurting others.”

“I’ll show you a pervert later and make it up to you.” He winks. Your face flushes with heat before you’re introducing yourself to his parents.

[fastboatsmojito]

moon I'm here to bring you cowboy hat rule Tyler Owens after discussing cowboy hat rule carmy with olive

anyways I think that would slay and Tyler would eat up you riding him while wearing his cowboy hat (and maybe his silly shirt)

-🌂

HELLYEAHHHHH COWBOY !!!!!!! 🗣️

IF YOU FEAR IT, RIDE IT - Tyler Owens x reader

| A/n; literally just threw this together as soon as the ask came in bc it’s making me BLUSH so forgive any grammar mistakes </3, cowboy hat and soaking wet white t-shirt combo save me.. everyone say thank you umbrella anon 🫶🏼

| WC; 690

| CW; 18+ smut btc obviously, Petnames; Sweetheart, Darlin’, Baby, and Cowgirl a few times oops. Praise, a little cheesy at times I couldn’t help it </3 only a little plot whoopsie daisy !

Dividers by @strangergraphics <3

If you could stare a hole through him he’d be nothing but his cowboy hat by now, shaking under the heavy clouds of rain above you as your eyes followed him out of his truck. Drops of water quickly seeping into his shirt, practically begging you to drool over him.

He shook his head with a smile when he saw what you were wearing; your favorite ‘this ain’t my first Tornadeo’ shirt with his face right in the middle. A gift he’d given you when you first got together, tears of laughter streaming down your face as you held it up in front of you ‘oh my god this is ridiculous, Ty. I love it.’ Easily one of your favorite memories.

You hugged him as soon as he was close enough, wrapping your arms around his neck as he laughed softly at your excitement. It was clear you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon, letting him pick you up swiftly to bring you inside.

“You weren’t waitin’ for me out there too long, were you?” He asked, kissing the top of your head as he kicked the door closed.

“Don’t want you gettin’ sick.” You moved your head from his shoulder as he sat down, hands planted firmly in the middle of his chest as you got comfortable on top of him.

“Just when I heard you pull up.” Your voice always made him soft, finally feeling at home again after a long work trip.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” He teased with a grin, adoration clear on his face as you studied his features, it hadn’t even been a week since you’ve seen him but it always felt like longer.

“I missed you!” You remarked through giggles as he grabbed your face and kissed each of your cheeks, his stubble tickling you.

“I bet I missed you more, darlin’.“ He contests, raising his eyebrows as you suddenly grabbed his hat from him, putting it on.

He knew how much you loved it, eyeing it on his dash every time you were driving with him, getting all shy when he told you how good you looked wearing it for him.

“Well if it isn’t my very own cowgirl. I ever tell you how much I love seein’ you in that?”

“Once or twice. Makes me feel hot, and getting to steal it from you is half the fun.”

“You are hot. Drives me crazy when you take it without askin’.” He confessed, pulling you in for a kiss until you were breathless and squirming over him.

“Ty,” You sighed, getting lost in his hands moving to draw little patterns over your upper thigh.

“Can I ride you?” You whispered into his ear, dragging your hand up and down over his chest as he groaned.

“‘Course you can, baby. Keep the hat on, let’s see if this cowgirl can ride.”

——

His Your hat and shirt were still on, your hands bracing yourself on his broad shoulders. Panting out as you moved over him, hips grinding down onto him every time he bottomed out.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Takin’ me like a fuckin’ dream, baby.” He praised, honeyed accent drawing out the words. His warm, rough hands moving under your shirt.

He looked relaxed under you, drinking in every sweet sound that left your mouth as he reveled in your warmth, groans and sighs of his own dancing between praises in your ears. Like this is exactly where he was supposed to be.

Your movements slowed down as your legs got progressively more tired as you went, sighing his name once again when he cradled the back of your head with one hand and thrusted into you.

“Shit- Ty,” You leaned down to quiet yourself on his lips, moaning into his mouth instead when the hand on your waist gripped you tighter, steadying you as he sped up.

“I know, darlin’.” He punctuated with a kiss to your temple, “Sweetest cowgirl in the world. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.”

He didn’t just see you like this, he made you like this, and that cowboy hat of his was one hell of an accomplice.

——

HEHEHEKF oh this was so sweet i love that flirty cowboy </3