#I almost lost my mind when my mom asked me if I wanted her to call the ambulance because of my back pain

[calcifiedunderland]

Holidays in Clock Town~

— snapshots during the time you spend in Clock Town with Deuce for the holiday season.

Note: this was written for @the-banana-0verlord’s Secret Santa event last year! This fic was for @thekitchenywitch, and I edited it for length/flow to post it. Enjoy!

i. Invitation

You couldn’t deny that you were excited. After one insane year of dealing with overblots, you could finally rest, and if that wasn’t relaxing enough, you were personally invited by none other than Dylla Spade to spend the winter holidays with her and Deuce. Earlier on, the blue-haired boy had knocked on your door the day before Winter Break, beaming at you.

“C’mon, (name)! It’ll be fun with you! Plus it’ll beat spending the break at Ramshackle!” He put his hand on his chest, smiling, “Mom said she didn’t mind! She really wants to have you over!” It didn’t take you long to agree. So, you and Grim packed up your things. One step through the Mirror later, you were enveloped in Dilla’s arms in welcome. “I’m so glad you came dear!” Over your shoulder, she smiled at her son, who looked at you softly. “We’re both glad you’re here.”

ii. Decorating

The next few days were sheer bliss.

The day after you arrived, Dylla drove you all to a local tree farm in Clock Town. It was easy to say, between the scent of pine and greenery, you could’ve gotten lost in the farm easily. Luckily, Deuce took it upon himself to escort you, looping his arm through yours and taking his job of ‘finding the holiday tree’ very seriously. You chuckled to yourself.

He had the same serious face when he was busy studying. When you both found one, he insisted on hitching the tree to the car roof himself. Dylla chuckled to herself at her son being ‘a true gentleman’ but when the tree almost fell on top of Deuce, you decided to intervene.

After wrestling the tree inside the house, you, Deuce, and Grim pulled out every single box containing decorations that Dylla had. You looked inside, suddenly smirking. “Aww, is this you?” You asked, taking out a small frame ornament that had a younger Deuce (missing teeth and the without the spade over his eye) and his mother, grinning at the camera. Deuce turned pink, grabbing it from you. “N-no…” A small crash interrupted you both, and you looked over at Grim, looking sheepish with a broken glass ball ornament on the ground. “Nya, it was shiny! S’not my fault…”

iii. Gingerbread

By now, the entire house was decorated. You and Deuce lounged on the couch, while Grim snored softly on an armchair pillow. Dylla had gone out to do a few last-minute deliveries for work, so the two of you decided to make some hot chocolate while you waited (not forgetting to make her a cup, too). “Y’know, it’s against the rules to not have cookies with these,” you say distractedly, stirring the marshmallows.

Deuce’s eyes widened, “w-what? I don’t remember that in the rule book!” He muttered to himself, “I should’ve memorized them better-“ you laughed, cutting him off. “No, no, not literally,” Deuce visibly relaxed. “I just think it’d be nice to have some,” you gazed fondly into your mug. Deuce thought for a bit, then said “who says we can’t?”

So now, your hands were covered with spices and flour, and the entire house smelled like gingerbread. You and Deuce were no Trey Clovers, but you both did a good job following a recipe, at least. While you removed the tray to let the cookies cool, you smiled at Deuce. “Y’know, I wanted to thank you.”

Deuce’s eyes widened, “why? If anything I should thank you, I almost put salt instead of sugar. I just did what you told me to, you understood the recipe.” You giggled, “no, not about the cookies, but I couldn’t have lifted that bag of flour without you,” you gazed at him softly, when the front door opened.

“I’m back!” Dylla walked in, shaking off her coat while Grim stirred awake. “Nya, is that…!” Eyes sparkling, he bounded to the kitchen. Dylla walked behind him, taking a cookie, “you two made gingerbread? It tastes wonderful!”

You nodded, “I couldn’t do it without Deuce. He learned a lot under Trey at school.” You didn’t miss Deuce’s proud glow at impressing his mother. Deuce picked up a cookie in both hands, offering one to you with a grin, “Eat up, (name)! We’ve earned this!”

iv. First snow

The morning after, you woke to a strange crunching sound. You rubbed your eyes, looking out the window, and your jaw dropped. “How did it snow so much outside?” You mumbled to yourself, shocked. It had to be about a foot high - and to your surprise, you saw a bundled-up Deuce shoveling it out of the driveway. Why was he out so early? It was still dark out.

You threw on your warmest clothes quickly. You opened the door, calling out “Deuce! What’re you doing up so early?! The sun’s not even up!” He huffed, breath clouding, “my mom has to go into town today, n’ the driveway’s blocked. I thought I’d start early.” You sighed, but felt touched at Deuce’s thoughtfulness. “I’ll help you, then.”

You took to scraping the ice and snow off of the car while Deuce shoveled the rest of the snow away. Finally, you both rested on the porch, shoulders pressed together, watching the sun slowly rise. Your breaths turned to misty clouds in the cold as you both breathed heavily after the work. Some time later, you pulled him up and were well into making a snowman when Dylla finally woke up, opening the front door. “What are you-“ Dylla stopped, watching the two of you continue without noticing her.

Deuce was carrying a large ball of snow while you were poking rocks and sticks into the snowman. Dylla leaned on the doorframe, and couldn’t help but smile as the two of you laughed, now running around in the now-clean driveway and throwing snow at each other. She could guess what happened.

v. Mistletoe

“The Town Square is fully decorated now,” Dylla said as she slid you your breakfast plate. “I saw it during deliveries yesterday. And they’re having the lighting festival tonight.” Deuce munched on his bacon, eyes wide, “oh! I remember those! It’s been a while since we’ve been. They light the tree, and have holiday drinks and snacks.” Deuce swallowed his food, turning to you, “we should all go, it’ll be fun!”

Grim cheered at snacks. “Sounds good to me! Let’s go now!” Dylla hummed, stirring her cocoa. “I won’t be able to go until after my deliveries for today, but it won’t take too long.” She patted Grim on the head, “how about you come with me Grim? We can ride around the town, and we’ll get there later. I’ll even take you to get local tuna,” she sing-songed. Grim’s eyes lit up, and he nodded rapidly.

Dylla chuckled, “Alright. Deuce, you should take (name) out,” Dilla smiled at Deuce. An hour later, the two of you were out on Deuce’s blastcycle, while Grim and Dylla stayed back. The wind ruffled Deuce’s hair, and you nuzzled him softly from behind. Soon enough, you two reached a clock tower with a large arch, and Deuce parked, helping you off. “Such a gentleman,” you teased, and he flushed.

You could see the glow of lights up ahead, probably the small holiday town gathering Dylla mentioned to Deuce. As the two of you walked, Deuce grabbed your arm, looking straight up with a blooming blush. “What?” You asked, slowly looking up until you saw some red berries and green leaves hanging from the arch. Oh. Oh my.

“I- um…” Deuce gulped, “W-we don’t have to, if you don’t want to, Prefect, um-“ you grabbed his hand. “Well, it wouldn’t be good to break the rules, right? Riddle will be extremely upset, after all,” you tried to joke, if only to get Deuce to ease up.

You bit your lip, “Yknow, I don’t mind if you don’t. But, only if you want to too.” You softly put your hands on his shoulders, trying for a smile to relax him. Poor Deuce looked so flustered.

Deuce’s eyes widened, but a small dorkish grin spread on his face. He gently wrapped his arms around you, pressing his forehead to yours. “Only if you’re sure, Prefect.” You responded by pressing your lips against his. You felt him smile against lips, and you couldn’t help but smile too. Around you, you heard cheering as the lights in the Town Square lit up. You and Deuce gently separated, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his flustered face.

“Happy holidays, Deuce.” You softly kissed his cheek, hugging him. You heard him laugh softly before hugging you back tightly, “Happy holidays to you too, Prefect.”

Reblogs and comments are forever appreciated!!

Happy holidays everyone!! Xoxo, ~Calci

[shieldofiron]

Ok transfemme MDS and Billy doing gender affirming subbing for your dom Steve needs

Oh TW for being SOOOOO hornt. Hornt up. I really needed some Mean Domme Steph content too, you're so real for this.

PWP under the cut, short but sweet.

If Stephanie Harrington had made a bet in high school on whether Billy Hargrove would be supportive of her transition... she would have lost.

"M-mistress Steph," Billy groans when she licks the lip. "P-please."

"You gonna be my good boy?" She asks.

"Y-yes, yes, Steph," His blue eyes are glazed with lust. His tongue, that fucking tongue that already ate her out until she cried, lolls out, because this was still Billy fucking Hargrove, he of the cigarette scented skin and Cali cool curls.

And he has been such a good boy. Got her off already, and then some.

"Please, it's been hours and-" Billy glances down at her and then looks away, straining against the cuffs holding him to Stephanie's bed. "You're so fucking beautiful. Jesus Christ..."

Steph blinks up at him, taken aback a moment. She hastens to grab his blindfold and put it back into place, too nervous to be under that wide blue gaze.

"Don't stop! Oh fuck, please, please don't stop! Don't- Steph, please," He groans. "I'll be so good, Steph-"

"You think I'm beautiful?" She sits up a little.

"Is that a fuckin' joke?" He looks down at her, panting, with his tongue out. "Prettiest fucking girl. Steph, come on, I'm dyin'..."

He arches into it when she starts stroking again.

"What... ah. What do you think is beautiful?" Stephanie asks softly, pausing her hand again.

"Come on, Steph, you know you're gorgeous," Billy shakes his head. "And you're so nice to me, take care of me. You're... just... Steph. I can't explain it you just are. Love when you tease me, even though it k-kills me."

Stephanie looks down at herself. Most of the time she feels like a mess, still too nervous to dress in anything that isn't something her mom helps her buy at stores that are too scared to gainsay the grand Evelyn Harrington. She still has almost no tits. Most of the time she can't even look at herself. She's awkward, and horny, and college is hell, and Billy is the only person she knows. Starting a friends with benefits type relationship with him was perhaps not the smartest thing to do, but she'd already done it.

"But I'm-" Dysphoric? Lost? Strange? Trans? All of it?

Billy pants. "Don't you fuckin' dare. That's my lady. Don't insult her. Even if you are her."

"Your... lady?"

Billy raises his head, frowning. Even behind the blindfold Stephanie can tell he's glaring. "Yes. My fuckin' lady."

There's something about the way he growls it that makes it more real. He doesn't try to sweet talk her. He kind of spits it. He's so cheesy and kind of rough and yet... it works for her.

"Steph, is this getting you off, darlin'?" He tongues the air.

Stephanie's stomach fills with butterflies even while she rolls her eyes.

"Please, Steph. I wanna-" He cuts himself off with a bitten lip.

She strokes him again, adoring how his body rolls with pleasure.

"Want to what, my good boy? You don't want me to leave you like this?"

"N-no! Steph, I wanna hold you-" He mutters.

"What? I can't hear you, good boy."

"I wanna f-fuckin' hold you," He bit out.

Stephanie speeds up without really thinking about it, her mind still stuck on what he'd said. He gasps a few times, pink mouth open wide, rolling his head back and forth on the pillow in a way that can't be good for his curls.

Slowly she reaches up and pulls off the blindfold. Blue eyes eat up her face eagerly. Nerves sparking, she moves up, trying not to hide her body behind the bed.

"There you are. My lady," Billy smiles. "I love you."

She blinks in confusion, but can't help but smile back.

"I love you, I fucking love you Stephanie," He says right as she tips him over the edge, running her thumb along the tip of his cock.

When she finally cleans him off and undoes the cuffs, she hesitates before lying down next to him.

"There you are," He says.

"Hi."

He grins. "Hi."

He wraps his arms around her and tugs her close.

There's almost no room in the dorm bed, but Billy's so close she can feel the movements of his lungs.

"You ok?" He asks softly.

"Yeah uh... yeah."

"Steph," He cradles her face. "I mean it. I want us to be together. I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you... please?"

"I know," She says, realizing that she does. She did know. She just didn't want to admit it. "I love you too, Billy."

[skyloftian-nutcase]

So earlier this year, we had an Incident and an ambulance came for my brother as a precaution (everything is back to normal, so no worries there!) and we find out that he and the EMT had one high school class together. At first, it was the fact that they were the same age, and then it was "where you in So-So's Grade 9 Geography class?".

Anyway, have you or Hyrule run into a situation where you know a patient and catch up a little a bit and it's kind of lighthearted because the situation isn't serious?

Seeing as I run squad duty in my hometown, I've had situations where I run into people who know me. I don't ever remember it being all too lighthearted, unfortunately.

Hyrule did get called for Aurora once because she was having such back pain she couldn't move. She summarily died of shame that anyone called an ambulance over that and said she'd just deal with it and refused to be transported. Hyrule came to see her after his shift was done and helped her go to an urgent care so she could get some muscle relaxers.

[luveline]

grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻

You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 

“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 

“Hi, mom.”  

You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 

“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 

“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 

“It’s him I’m calling about.” 

“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 

“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 

It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 

You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 

The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 

He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 

Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 

Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 

Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 

She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 

Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 

“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 

He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 

He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 

You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 

He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 

“Let me sit you down,” he says. 

“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 

He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 

“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 

He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 

It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 

He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 

You close your eyes. 

“Rough day?” you ask. 

“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 

You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 

“How’s that?” 

“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 

“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 

“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”

“No, I know.” 

His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 

You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 

He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 

[sunshine-on-marz]

Lost and found

Spencer Reid x Reader

In which Spencer almost loses the love of his life, literally and figuratively

TW: angst with a happy ending, criminal minds level depiction of violence, mentions of death, it takes a little to get to the actual plot but trust me it’s worth it, (tell me if i missed any)

Word count: 3.3K

To know Spencer Reid was to be absolutely enthralled by him. You were both 16 when you met, granted you were 16 in your junior year of highschool and he was 16 working on his 2nd PHD, but you were both 16 nonetheless.

It had taken some convincing to get a place in his life, not because he didn’t like you or your company, more because he was waiting for your ulterior motive to show itself, or for your patience to wear thin. It never did.

You knew vaguely about his mother, mostly through a news article you found from a few years back, talking about the prodigy like he was more of circus attraction then a 12 year old. It had mentioned that he also took care of his sick mother, and with his hyperfixation on finding a cure to schizophrenia, you’d connected the dots.

But you still didn’t want to assume.

“Hey Spence, why’re you so set on finding a cure?” You ask, gesturing to the 8th book on schizophrenia you’d seen him read in the 3 months you’ve known him.

“My mother” he says, closing the book and placing it infront of him. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m curious about what goes on in the mind of Spencer Reid” you smile “though, I’m sure you could tell me exactly what’s happening up there, down to the chemicals”, he laughs at that

“I could give you an idea” he says, you hover your hands over the book, he nods, you open it to the last page.

“508 pages, how long would that take you to read?” You ask

“A little under 10 minutes, if I had to guess, I don’t know how many words are on each page” he says

“Well I’m not counting so I guess we’re gonna have to stick with an estimate” you joke, he smiles again.

You sit in silence for a minute, just looking at each other, and the book. There’s a light tension, unasked questions float between you.

“Can I be invasive?” You ask, Spencer nods

“You usually don’t ask first” he smiles

“You suck” you reach to hit his arm, you don’t. “I won’t hit you before asking about your sick mother, actually”

“I appreciate that” he laughs “but what do you want to know?”

“What’s her name?” You ask, he seems a little shocked.

“Diana.”

“And you take care of her?” You already know the answer, but he’d never said it explicitly.

“Yea” he nods, he looks at you like he knows what you’ll ask next

“Well, tell me if there’s ever anything I can do to help. Her or you, I can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to do alone, props to you spence” you smile, and if someone saw his face right now, they’d assume you asked him- well not many questions would dumbfound Spencer Reid but that’s not the point.

“You’re not gonna ask if I hate it? Or if I want to put her in a home?” He asks, sounding more confused than you’d ever seen him

“Do you want me to ask that?” You counter.

“No.. not really” he looks at his hands, which are rubbing together. A nervous habit of his you’d picked up on rather quickly.

“Well then I won’t ask it” you smile, so does he.

It’s a week later when he tells you why he’d been so shocked that day.

You were on his front porch, about to meet his mother for the first time. He said she’d been having a good day, and though you weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, he said it with enough excitement that you decided to just ask later.

“When you first asked about my mom, you asked what her name was” he says, you nod.

“Thats usually my starting point, yea” you laugh softly “why, was that the wrong thing to ask?”

“No- no no no. It was the perfect thing to ask! I just- you were the first person to ask what her name was before you asked about what’s wrong with her” he says, and he looks sad, so you offer a hand. You know he’ll say no, but you don’t miss how he smiles everytime you offer.

“Wanna tell me about her? I never know what I’m walking into meeting my friends parents, I would’ve brought her flowers but I didn’t know what kind she liked” you say, and his smile goes from soft to wide and bright.

He is ineffably beautiful.

“She likes lilies” he smiles “and she’s really nice, when she’s, yknow” you just nod. And then he holds out his hand, you take it. And that’s the first time you ever touched Spencer Reid.

You met his mother that night, it was uneventful, but it was nice.

That’s a lot of your friendship with Spencer. Uneventful, but nice. More than nice, it’s wonderful. He’s wonderful. You’re there when he gets his first PHD at 17, you’re there when he has to put his mother into assisted living, you’re there when he gets the letter saying he’s been invited to the FBI academy, you even drive him to go meet Agent Gideon.

You see him off at the airport when he goes to Quanico.

And that’s the last time you see your best friend.

After a while weekly phone calls became monthly, and monthly became an occasional text on birthdays and holidays and informing the other of big achievements, but by his 3rd year as an agent, friendships were hard to maintain.

You’d accepted never seeing your friend again.

Spencer hoped he’d never see you again, because he knew he didn’t have the guts to reach out, and he knew that the only time his teammates seemed to see old friends was when they were a part of a case.

But he also knew you.

And he recognized your necklace the second he saw the pictures Penelope had on the screen.

“The second and third victims haven’t been found, but they’re believed dead” JJ says, Spencer barely hears it.

“I need air” is all he manages to say as he rushes out of the room. Derek went after him and caught him as he collapsed.

“Hey man, what’s goin on?” Derek asked him, holding onto Spencer’s shaking shoulders as he tries to stay upright.

“I can’t- she can’t- she can’t be dead” his words were barely audible and even less coherent.

“Do you know one of the victims?” Derek asked, and Spencer nodded.

He more than knew you, he’d held you while you cried, he’d slept in your bed the night his mom went into care, you were the only person there for him at his graduations, he’d helped you decorate your first apartment. You were so much more than someone he knew. And you were so much more than victim number 3.

“Spencer? Hello?” Derek’s hand waved infront of Spencer’s face as he zoned back into reality.

“Sorry” I he muttered as he started to stand up. He and Derek walked back into the briefing room, he doesn’t apologize for his outburst, he just sits and waits for Penelope and JJ to continue. They do.

“Well, 3 girls went missing in New York City within a span of a week. The reason we’re on this case is because they all worked for the same law firm”

Spencer takes a shuttering breath.

“The first victim, whose body was found dumped in a dumpster by a homeless man, was 56 year old Mrs. Shelly Kailee, a lawyer at Shelly and Dylan law firm, she was a co-owner along with her Husband Dylan. The two other victims, who are still currently missing, are Darleen Calvin, and Y/N L/N. Darleen is 28 and a practicing attorney at the same law firm, she’s only been practicing there for a few months after graduation from University of New York in January. Y/N is 25 and is working as a receptionist at the law firm while working on her law degree at Cornell. Both girls are reportedly very sociable and very kind, but from what we’ve been told, Y/N seemed to be more acquainted with everyone while Darleen seemed to just have a large group of friends. That’s the only information we have on them” JJ says. It seems everyone’s eyes drifted to Spencer, but his were dead set on your face on the projector. Smiling. You had the same smile. You were still wearing the same necklace you wore every day since he gave it to you at 18 when you graduated. You were still as beautiful as he remembered.

“She wouldn’t let anyone take her to a second location, not without a fight. We’re probably looking at a fairly athletic man, unless we find out that she sent someone her location. Then it’s probably someone charismatic, charming, played himself as a friend” he says, and everyone nods.

“You think she’d fall for that?” Morgan asks, he gets a few glares. But Spencer nods. “I think I saw her have a conversation with a homeless man once because she thought he might be lonely.” He says “so yes”. Hotch clears his throat “Spencer is there any possibility she’s.. changed since you knew her?”. Spencer shakes his head “we only really fell completely out of touch a few months back, she seemed pretty much the same the last time I called her, which was probably 6 months ago”

You could’ve cut the tension with a knife.

“Spencer I’m sorry-“ Emily says, he cuts her off.

“You can be sorry if we find a body” he says. And they get the message.

“Wheels up in 10” Hotch says.

Spencer works that case like a dog. There’s not a moment where he isn’t doing something to find you. Something to make sure you’re okay.

A few times, Derek had to pull him out of the police precinct, just so he’d get a couple hours of sleep.

He was beside himself.

Then the tapes showed up.

On the front steps of the police station, there was a box, with 4 tapes, each labeled with a date of the days you’d been missing, the most recent being from the day before.

The first started with a voice they later confirmed to be Shelly’s. A final message to her husband and kids. Tearful messages to each one about how much she loved them. And then a gunshot.

The second tape was worse. It was of you and Darleen. Spencer recognized your voice immediately, he could tell you were holding back tears. Darleen on the other hand was sobbing. You were both pleading for you life. You were a bit more composed, and he quickly recognized some of what you were saying as examples he’d said to you when talking about what usually does and doesn’t work on killers.

He never intended you to have to put those lessons to use.

And the selfish part of him wonders if you thought of him when you spoke.

The 3rd tape is the shortest. It’s just a gunshot and a scream. Your scream. He, for the first time in his life, sincerely hopes that you watched someone get killed.

The final tape is just you.

And it breaks him.

There’s a few seconds of silence before your voice starts.

“This is a message for Spencer Reid, and the rest of the FBI. My name is Y/N, and if you’re listening to this. I am dead.”

And his face falls.

“Spence, meeting you in highschool was the greatest thing I’ve ever done. And I love you, I love you so much Spencer. And I hope-“ the tape ends.

Spencer listens to that tape another dozen times.

The cops find Darleen’s body before lunch.

He doesn’t have it in him to care.

He listens to the tape again. And then it hits him.

You had never once said you met Spencer in highschool. You always, always made it a point to say that you were in highschool, but he wasn’t.

And it was currently summer, and the highschool was empty.

“Guys I know where she is-“

Hotch cut him off with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Spencer she’s dead” he said, his voice wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t gentle either. Spencer could’ve punched him.

“They’re at the highschool. Trust me” his voice was shaking, not with doubt, but with fear. Fear that both he and Hotch were right, and that in a couple hours he’d see you again under the worst possible circumstances.

But they went anyway.

He was zoned out most of the car ride, ignoring Derek’s questions of if he’s sure he can handle this.

For Spencer, it doesn’t matter if he thinks he can, because he has too.

He’s a few feet past the doorway when it really sinks in that he might leave the building again with your lifeless body in his arms. He pushes the thought aside. It felt like betrayal not to try and have hope, because for Spencer, you were hope incarnate. It would feel disrespectful to take that from you without asking first.

He heard it before anyone else did.

He all but ripped the door open, the local PD turning on their heels at his aggressive movements.

But there you were, in a chair, sobbing into your binds. He was infront of you in seconds, shouting for someone to cut the ropes holding your wrists and ankles as he removed the cloth from your mouth.

“You’re okay, you’re alright now, I’ve got you” his hands gently holding your cheeks as you leaned forward into his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso once they were cut free.

“I knew you’d come- I knew it. I told him but he said you wouldnt find me so- so in the tape- oh my god did he send you the tapes?” He cut off your manic rambling with soft shushing

“I know you knew, you always know, and yes we got the tapes. You did good, you did everything perfect. I understood.” He assured you, running his hands through your hair.

Emily came up to you and Spencer, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Does she know where he is?” She asks.

He starts to speak, but you do it first. “Maybe the janitors closet? Or the bathroom? He- he made us scrub the floors, he was like- he was psychotic about it” you say, she nods and leaves the room, Spencer just tucks your head back under his chin.

“You’re doing so well” he whispers

“Spencer I want to leave” you cry

“Alright, alright. Let’s get you out of here” he says, slipping his arm under your knees and lifting you. You probably could’ve walked, but no one was shocked that he chose to carry you out.

He asked the EMTs more questions than your frazzled mind could even think of.

“Dr.Reid, she’s going to be fine. It’s cuts and bruises and maybe a few pulled muscles, she will be fine once she gets some fluids and a good meal in her system. “

He still didn’t believe it.

He didn’t believe it when the nurses told him the same thing, he didn’t believe it on the car ride back to the precinct after you were discharged, and he didn’t believe it when you sat next to him during your cognitive interview.

He’d fought Hotch about giving you one, but Hotch said that having a solid story will help make sure the man who did this is kept in prison for as long as possible, and you’d volunteered.

“You really dont have to” he says, you shake your head

“Spence i can handle it” you say

“Im not leaving your side.” He insists, you laugh a bit, which all but calms him down.

“I didnt think you would.” You offer your hand, and for the first time he accepts the invitation.

The interview makes you cry, which could’ve been predicted, but it still breaks Spencer’s heart.

After that he sets a semi-permanent ban on anyone asking you about what happened.

JJ brings you a change of clothes and you thank her profusely as she walks you to the bathroom and helps you wash your face and body as best as you can with wet paper towels.

Spencer anxiously waits outside.

“She’s with JJ, man. You can go outside and take a breather if you need” Derek offers.

“I’ll go outside and take a breather with Y/N when they’re done. Im sure this isnt where she wants to be right now.” Spencer says, Derek sighs.

“Spence, that girl might be one of the most well adjusted victims we’ve ever seen, she’ll be okay if you step away for 5 minutes-“ Spencer cuts him off

“I wont” he says “do you not get that? She’s well adjusted, Im not. I am not well adjusted to almost losing her and im not well adjusted to having her back so Derek would you please stop suggesting that I need space from her because space from her is the last thing I need right now” they stand in silence for a minute until you leave the bathroom.

“Spence? Everything okay?” JJ asks as she walks out of the bathroom after you, you quickly finding your place leaning against Spencer’s side.

“Yea we’re good” Derek answers for him, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder, and leaving with a small nod of understanding.

Spencer guides you outside.

He sits next to you on the bench outside the precinct, your head on his shoulder and his arm around you.

“Im really glad you picked up on that” you say

“Picked up on what?” He asks, his hand moving from next to you on the bench to your lap, resting on top of your own.

“The highschool thing, i honestly didnt know if he’d even send the tapes, kinnda figured he was making them for himself” you say, interlacing your fingers with his “but I figured it was worth a shot”

“It was smart” he says, squeezing your hand “took me awhile to realize”

“Did it?” You ask “and here i was thinking you were a genius. Spencer when have i ever skipped a chance to brag about you?” You smile at him, he shrugs.

“I was under a little stress” he says, pulling you closer.

“I know, im sorry I scared you”

“Dont apologize, this is not your fault. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” You just nod.

There’s silence for a while, it could’ve been hours, neither of you would’ve noticed, or minded.

“Do you want to move in with me?” He says it before he even realized he thought it, immediately looking just as shocked as you. “I am so sorry- i just- well i figured-“

“Spencer” you grab his hand. “We’ll talk about it” you say, and that seems to be the right answer as he wraps you into a hug.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay” he whispers, you nod.

“It doesn’t require moving in for us to stay in contact” you say

“But you’re so far” you just nod in response. “I dont want to lose you again” he whispers

“Spence you didnt lose me, im alright-” he stops you

“Thats not what i meant. Not entirely” he clarifies, you sigh and pull him into another long hug.

“My lease ends next month” you hum

“See you in Virginia next month?” He asks, you smile

“We’ll talk about it”

There’s never a conversation about if you’ll move in. Spencer just Venmo’s you (he got Garcia to teach him how) 300 bucks along with “plane ticket or take out dinner for a week” which makes you laugh, and it also makes you call him to ask approximately how much of your stuff would fit in his apartment, he says he’ll make as much space as you need.

A month later you show up to one of Rossi’s dinner parties hand in hand with Spencer, JJ hands Derek 20 bucks, and slowly, everything falls back into place.

(PS: Spencer makes sure you have everything you need to finish school online because he’ll be damned if you gave up your dreams for a man, even if he himself is that man.)

Remember to reblog with feedback!! Reblogs make the world go round and feedback helps artists keep creating!

This might be the longest fic ive ever written. This took 2 days and a few tears but finally it’s done. Im tagging the pookies bc Ykw i worked too hard not too @the-phantom-author @thesockbehindthewashingmachine @mariasont @st4rgzer @canonically-a-genloser

[unluckiestmember]

can I request headcanons of x-men 97 team x reader who is an absolute sweatheart and is just the cutest thing to exist.

Coming right up!

X-Men '97 X Sweetheart! Reader

Characters: Nathan Summers/Cable, Scott Summers/Cyclops, Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Jean Gray, Jubilee, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto, Morph, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, Rogue and Logan/Wolverine.

Warning: Mild Cursing, but overall SFW.

A/N: Can I please get someone to remind me to actually post when I'm supposed to? Anyone? XD

Cable

“Time to get to work, keep up!… You want me to carry you? Heh, say less.”

Oh Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. He tries his best to be as tough and straight to business like his old man. Always a man to try and change the future and fight for the people with a straight face. But as soon as you’re around him, your sunshine energy radiates onto him. You make the freedom fighter have a need to impress you on the field when he’s not showering you in love outside of missions.

What really drew you to him was just how careful you were with his body. How you complimented his eye and stroked his robotic arm with so much care. It has made him really adore the end of the days where particular expeditions took a lot of energy out of you two, resulting in cuddles and sweet nothings. He never understood the whole concept of loving someone like his dad loved his mom, but after meeting you, he finally understood what they had was sacred. What you two had was sacred. Nathan has lost a lot in his life, but he’ll be damned if he loses you.

Cyclops

“Are you alright?! You’re not hurt, are you? I’m not overexaggerating- I’m worrying the right amount!”

Scott can be a pain in the neck during missions. He’s always one to bark out orders and keep a level head on missions as the leader of the X-Men. And if there’s one order that’s always on the top of his list, it’s making sure you are safe. He’s by all means not an overprotective or possessive lover, but he makes it a daily part of his life to always check on his beloved. Whenever you are just being yourself, you can find him staring at you, taking in your cute energy and reciprocating it with his own cute antics like kissing your cheek or giving you gifts when you least expect it.

Are the team a bit jealous of you having Scott’s favoritism? A bit. But hey, they’d rather someone like you have the best of Scott than the worst. Even if that also includes his defensive nature of you along with his jealous antics. He means well. You know it, sometimes you just have to remind him. Whether it be with a simple talk or a passionate kiss. Face it, you keep the leader of the X-Men grounded.

Gambit

“Ah, just the person I was looking for. Is it just me or are you getting more breathtaking every day, mon cher?"

When it comes to you, Remy is bound to flirt twenty four seven just to see that nice shade of pink color on your cute little cheeks. And if he cant succeed in that, he’s bound to have you smitten with his physical hold of your waist or his sincere compliments. He’s quite a charmer, anyone knows that, but with you, he adds another flare to himself; A sweet lover.

Gambit will always make it abundantly clear that you are the cutest person he’s ever met and how he can wager the perfect future with you by his side. Expect this man to shower you with surprise trips away from the mansion, a fresh breakfast almost everyday and a little card show if you are ever upset, because if there’s one thing he hates more than anything, it’s you being upset. You are the only one that can make Gambit so emotional because he just loves you so so much. And if you ever forget, he doesn’t mind reminding his raison de vivre.”

Jean Gray

“I wish you could see what was in my mind… Maybe then you’d realize how much you mean to me, my love.”

When it comes to Jean, you’ve basically hit the jackpot on one of the most open and loving girlfriends you could ever ask for. You aren’t just a sweetheart, you are her sweetheart. She always touches you like a porcelain doll, staring into your eyes with so much affection of her own and giggling whenever you hug or hold her, prompting her to hold you or hug you back just as tightly. On missions, she is in the zone, but as soon as they are over, she’s heading straight to you to check if you are injured. And if you’re not? Expect this woman to shower you in so many compliments and love that you might just drown from the cuteness.

Jean isn’t just your protector, but also your best friend, always free to try anything you want to try and do what you want to do.Dare she say, you might be the love of her life. Screw being lovers, she wants to be a married couple. But as much as that gets her excited, she’ll take her time for you, because she knows whether it takes her whole life or a single day, she doesn’t mind waiting for the fateful day.

Jubilee

“That was awesome! Did you see me out there- Did you?! Let me let you in on a secret; That last one was for you~!”

Because of how young she is and her lack of a love life, Jubilee is still pretty new to the whole dating and falling in love thing. But when she met you, she knew she was bound to fall in love with someone so positive and full of life. An embodiment of a firework if she said so herself. She always drags you around town with her to hangout at arcades or spend time in the mall grabbing lunch and doing cute couple things.

She cares about you enough to ask other X-Men members advice on how to treat you or show you how much you mean to her. It honestly impresses and shocks the team how this troublemaker tries her best to make you feel like the luckiest person in the world dating her. If she’s not showing her love for you through domestic activities, then look outside your window at night. You are bound to find Jubilee sending you love with her fireworks bound to make you giggle and smile. Which is always delightful because when you are filled with so much happiness, so is she.

Magneto

“What we have is stronger than any magnetic pull I’m capable of. It’s terrifying. But also magnificent.”

If you ever wanted to be treated like royalty, Magneto is the man for you. Erik treats you like you are a precious flower that could be destroyed by the mutant hating world around you. Because of this, he is so careful with you, yet not overbearing. If you want to hang out outside or simply hang out with him, he doesn’t mind as long as no one looks at you the wrong way or touches you with ill intent. Because if they do?… Let’s just say Magneto can do a lot with his powers.

When he’s not making sure you’re safe, he is awestruck at your innocence and your positive outlook on life. At first, he actually found your vision of the world to be immature, untrue and above all stupid. But the more he’s spent time with you, you’ve seem to have melted his cold heart a bit. Does he still think humanity is the scum of the Earth and nothing can change? Yes. But with you by his side, showing him what love, understanding and acceptance can be, maybe, just maybe, he can see where you’re coming from.

Morph

“Why the long face, babe? I can do a mean Magneto impression that’s sure to make you smile… Haha! There’s my love!”

Around people, Morph treats you almost like one of the guys, in a figurative sense. They don't treat you any differently from the rest of his friends and family within the team. But behind closed doors or when you two are alone, all bets are off. They are melting at your sweet nature and so quick to try to make you laugh, smile or get physical with them. Man, do they love when you get physical with him- They adore it!

But what they really loves is how caring and protecting of them you are. They've told you about their past, their run in with Mister Sinister and their time away from the team. And no matter how many nightmares or moments of body dysmorphia he experiences, they love how you are always there to pick up their loose pieces and put them back together with your gentle touch and gentler words. Because of this, they're always there to return the favor and comfort you as well when you are at your lowest. You are their best friend sorry Logan and their beloved and they wouldn’t want it any other way.

Nightcrawler

“Liebe meines Lebens. You never cease to take my breath away.”

Kurt is a pretty romantic person, especially when it comes to you. He showers you endlessly in love, rubbing his nose against yours, showering your face in kisses and becoming putty when you hold him, even if it’s just by his arm! He cherishes moments where the both of you hang out, especially by gardens where he makes cute flower crowns with you. Though just any moments with you are the highlight of his day. On missions, you two synergize perfectly well with the blue mutant complimenting you on your moves and takedowns of foes.

Kurt is an expert at physical touch for a love language, but he’s just as amazing with his words, especially with the nicknames he’s given you. He’ll make sure everyone knows that you are his Schatz, Herz, bessere Hälfte, and of course, Liebe meines Lebens. To you, he’s a lot like a little puppy; Full of energy and always waiting for your attention and affection given to him. The team thinks you two are cute even if they find it a bit annoying that Nightcrawler is always teleporting you two all over the place. It’s not too bad though since the sound of your mixing laughter is enough to make everyone’s hearts soar happily.

Rouge

“Hey, Sugar! I missed you so much today! Now come here, I at least want a hug!”

Rogue is super careful of you. You are just too precious to her and she doesn’t want to hurt or break you with her powers. So she makes sure you both have ways of showing one another how much you love each other, especially herself. Outside of soft hugs, she tries her best to give you a hand covered kiss. Though she can be super cheesy and exchange indirect kisses with rocks, feed you while chuckling at how adorably you stare at her like she hung the stars above. She’ll even have you both set up for dinner plans and fly you around in the sky if you ever want to destress from work as a X-Man.

You both have a cute relationship, even if there are moments where Rogue wonders if she deserves you or if she will ever be enough for you due to her destructive powers and the possibility she will never be able to touch you. These revelations have led to emotional nights, but the promise you make to touch her and make her the happiest woman in the world always makes Rogue realize that she is beyond lucky to have you. You make her want to find a way to touch you no matter what. And mark her words, she will.

Wolverine

“Woah, little pup. I was just gone for a few hours, you act like I went to war or something! Aw, screw it, come here.”

Logan has fallen in love with many men and women during his years of living. But damn has he never met anyone quite like you! When he met you, he thought your whole sweetheart shtick was fake, no offense. He thought it was some trick used to get people to lower their guards around you so you can get the upper hand on them. But when he found out you really were the sweet soul everyone hyped you up to be, he slowly but surely fell for you. He fell for how you spoke to him with such understanding and patience. The way you touched him was with the utmost care when you took care of him and helped him clean blood from your adventures with him that got out of hand.

Logan fights for many people, but for you he will kill anyone that hurts you or makes you cry. Your smile lights up his whole life, your laugh pushes him to be stronger to preserve it and your touch makes him feel alive in a world that always knocks him down. If it’s not the X-Men, Wolverine usually fights for himself and only himself. But now that he has you to lose, he fights for the both of you and a future where you both can live a peaceful life you’re both proud of.

If you got any requests for X-Men '97, Blue Eye Samurai, and or Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[merajsblog]

rin never had time for anyone else besides soccer. he was always busy either with school, or more importantly, practicing for soccer.

he never expected to find you on one random friday night. it was well after his practice, and his mom dragging him and his family to the mall to do some last minute shopping for a family party. he was beyond unhappy to be dragged along doing such “NPC” activities on a friday night, as if he was going to go out or something…

“Rin come look at this and tell me if it looks okay!” his mom calls out. he turns the corner, sulking as he heads over to check it out. she’s holding a black velvet dress with a rather large bow on it. she’s holding it up against herself, beaming at him. he’s opening his mouth to say something bland, before you come around from behind her, hands full with clothing.

you’ve got the cutest smile he’s ever seen. your eye contact is sharp, and it feels as though you’ve pierced through him. you give him a soft smile and he is even more lost for words.

“i found these dresses too! i think they’d look wonderful on you!” you beam at his mom. you clearly worked here, the walkie on your belt and badge told him that. he pays close attention now, watching you sway around her, helping her button up her shirts, and conversing about what looked best.

rin honestly had no words. there was something entrancing about you, and he felt as though he needed to analyze everything about you and your actions. he took note of how you’d bite your lip when thinking, when you placed your hands on your hips, how your head turned to the side when considering.

“Please, I insist!” he hears his mom say. it snaps him out of it. he’s engaged in the conversation now, trying to figure out what’s happening.

“When is it?” you ask, cocking your head to the side. rins mom looks at him, and before he even thinks, he’s blurting out the exact date and time. “November 30th, 8pm!” he says, wide eyed. his mom chuckles a little before trying more to persuade you to come.

“Rin, help me persuade her! I want to thank her for her amazing help! I found the perfect dress!” She says, eyes brimming like stars.

he was lost on what to say. no words came to mind.

“yes.” was all he could mutter out while maintaining the most intense eye contact ever. it made you swallow whole.

“Rin, give her your number and send our adress, i will see you there!” she squabbles, while hustling to the check out. you walk over, smile on your face and hand reaching out. rin almost forgets what is happening, this looks like a scene out of an angel movie or something. he only watched horror.

“let me put my number in your phone!” you said, hand extended. he fumbles his hands, trying to pull it out.

“yea hold on..um it’s..wait.” and he pulls his phone out. you quickly type it in, and hand it back, tucking hair behind your ears. he’s never been this starstruck before. he’s stumbling over his words, eye contact faltering. if anyone in blue lock saw him now, they wouldn’t even recognize him.

it’s safe to say he cannot wait until the party.

“i hope to see you then..or i mean my mom is excited to see you..” he mutters, starting to back away. you let out a giggle and he’s lost again, mouth slightly open.

“i’ll see you guys soon then.” you say curtly, before another customer comes hustling in asking for help. he’s almost upset, and wants to tell them to fuck off. though, he thinks you would hate him if he did that. so he doesn’t.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Vow 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father's murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"This is how we stay safe," your mother tugs the laces so your lurch. 

Your eyes widen at your reflection. The gown is tight yet too big. The bodice pinches as your mother yanks and yanks. The skirt is full and fluffy. Layers and layers of tulle.  

You can't breathe but you don't think its the boning. You touch the front of the gown, feeling the delicate embroidery, and shudder as you exhale. Strange how days before you wore black and cried, now you're in white in what many deem the happiest day if your life. 

"Hasn't he taken enough--" 

"Shh!" She whips her finger up. "He can always take more. Your father didn't think so but he can, god rest. There's always something to lose." 

"Mom," you croak. You've never seen her afraid. She's always been pompous, always unfazed, but now her eyes are like sparklers, flickering and frantic. "I'm scared." 

"Be scared but be obedient. And smile," she moves around you and frames your face, "smile. Please. He can always change his mind. Don't let him. If he does, we are lost." 

"How do you know? Daddy's gone. We can leave--" 

"The vultures are waiting," she snarls. "Don't you understand? It's only the wolf that keeps them at bay." 

"Why... why would he want me? If daddy--" 

"Hush, I won't tell you again. Do not speak of your father. Especially in front of him." She dabs your lip with her thumb as she fixes your make up, "from this day forth, he is the only man in your life. Understand?" 

You pout. That night comes back. The echoing bang the woke you, your mother's scream, and the barrels that pointed through your doorway. Quick, clean, horrifying. As if your father never was. 

"Yes." 

"You better. You know this man is cruel. Do you want to test him?" 

You shake your head and she lets you go. You back away and heave. You won't mess up the hours of work put into your hair and face. If you look in the mirror again, you will. 

You stare at your skirts as your mother pins the veil on your head. She pulls on it, arranging it around you. It drapes almost to your feet. 

A knock at the door. She goes to it. Whispers. The door stays open. Your mother calls your name. Your soles stick before you can make yourself move. 

As you get to her, your mother takes you by your wrist. You feel her warmth through the lacy gloves. She guides you behind a party of women. Some you recognise, some you don't. Their makeup is thickly caked on and their hair teased. 

"Look up," your mother snaps under her breath and lets you go. "You will not shame your family by hiding." 

You raise your head. Your head is light and bobbly. You march down the hallway behind the train of solemn women. 

You’ve never met the man who killed your father. The very same you are about to face. The one you are to marry. It’s the sort of irony that hurts. 

You’re stopped as the other women keep going. They leave you, one by one, until it is only your mother. She gives your hand a final squeeze and goes. You wait alone, uncertain. 

The music changes and you flinch. You know you have to go but you don’t want to. You don’t want to die either. And you don’t want to lose your mom. She’s all you have left. 

You can picture the house. Ransacked, bullet-riddled, crowded with strange men. You push away the memories and step forward. One foot in front of the other. Keep going. That’s what this life will be. Do what has to be done, not what you want. 

You enter the large hall. Peaked ceilings, music echoing off the walls, full pews, and a man waiting. You look ahead to the figure at the altar. Two, but the shorter one fades into the background. The priest is a blue as your eyes fixate on the man in the white suit. 

As you get closer, his features come into focus. Dark curls, a shadow of a beard and a thick line of hair over his lip. The cleft in his chin adds to the chisel of his jaw and he’s tall. Very tall and broad. His blue eyes meet yours. 

You trip as you try to step up beside him. He’s quick to catch you. His grip is iron on your arm. He helps you up and stands you across from his. Your eyes cling to him. You can’t look away. You’re terrified. He can’t look away from you either. 

You stand facing each other; you trapped him shock, him in triumph. This day is the first day of the rest of your life. The end of the empire and the birth of another. A vow to seal your fate and those of all watching. 

[meazalykov]

mother who stepped up

stepmom!lena oberdorf x mom!reader

summary: lena accepts you, and the mini-you

warnings: one mention of death, nothing too impactful to the story though. very long fic

you’ve never been one for surprises. your life, at least recently, has been built on carefully crafted routines, ensuring that your two-year-old daughter, macy, is comfortable and happy. 

dating? it was something you thought would come much later—if at all. after coming to terms with your sexuality, you didn’t want to date unti you were reassured that you’d be with the right woman for your daughter. 

here you are, sitting across from lena oberdorf, a suggestion from your well-meaning friends, and even though you like her, there’s something you or your mutual friends haven’t told her yet.

everything had been going smoothly with lena from the start. she was charming, funny, flirtatious, and made you feel seen in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time.

you didn’t think you could get used to someone so effortlessly, but somehow, lena just fit into your life—except for that one secret you hadn’t yet shared.

you’re sitting across from lena at a cozy café, sipping your coffee and listening to her talk about her game against wolfsburg– a club she played many years ago. 

it’s easy to get lost in the sound of lena’s voice, the way her eyes light up when she talks about football. you nod along, smiling as she recounts a funny moment from practice. 

for a while, everything feels perfect—simple, like your lives are in sync. in the back of your mind, you know you will have to tell her about macy. the little mini-you that is currently coloring in her daycare class across munich.

the conversation shifts to lighter topics, and you pull out your phone to check a notification. 

you sit your phone flat on the table and as you’re about to lock the screen, lena leans in, catching a glimpse of the photo that displays on both your home and lock screen. 

your heart skips a beat when you realize what she’s seeing—macy, her chubby little cheeks, dimples, and wild curls staring back at you from the lock screen. 

lena’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity flickering across her face.

“aweee who’s that?” she asks, her tone casual but with a hint of intrigue.

you freeze for a second, unsure how to respond. 

here we go, you think, heart pounding. swallowing hard, you try to brush it off with a light chuckle. 

“oh, that’s little macy.”

lena tilts her head, staring at the screen for a moment longer before locking eyes with you. 

“macy?” she echoes. “is she… your niece or something? she looks just like you.” she smiles, clearly finding the resemblance cute.

you force a small smile, feeling your throat tighten. this is it—the moment you’ve been dreading. 

“uh, no… she’s not my niece.”

“oh,” lena says, looking at you, then back at the picture. 

“then, what, a cousin? a friend’s kid?”

you can see her mind working, trying to make sense of it. your fingers tighten around the edge of your phone, and you finally decide to rip the band-aid off.

“she’s my daughter….”

lena’s eyes widen, her gaze darting back to the screen, then to you. her lips part in surprise, but she doesn’t say anything right away. she stares at the lock screen as if seeing it for the first time, really seeing it.

“your daughter?” she repeats softly, almost like she’s processing the words.

you nod, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. 

“yeah. she’s turning two in a few months. macy’s my little girl.”

for a long moment, lena just looks at the photo, her expression unreadable. you watch as her gaze flickers between the image of macy and you, comparing the two of you. 

“she… she looks just like you,” lena murmurs, her voice almost in awe. 

“i thought she was you for a second, like, as a baby.”

you let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension knotting in your stomach. 

“yeah, she’s basically my mini-me. she’s got my nose and everything.”

lena doesn’t seem to hear your attempt at humor. instead, her brow furrows deeper as she studies the photo. 

“wait, she’s… really your daughter? like, you have a kid?”

you bite your lip, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. 

“yeah, she’s mine. i know i should’ve told you sooner, but…” you trail off, not knowing how to explain the complexity of it all.

“but why didn’t you?” lena asks, her tone still soft, but there’s something raw in her voice—an undercurrent of emotion that you can’t quite place.

you glance down at your coffee, swirling it absentmindedly. “i didn’t know how,” you admit. 

“i didn’t want to scare you off. most people aren’t exactly thrilled about dating someone with a kid.”

lena leans back in her chair, processing what you’ve said. “you thought i’d be scared off because you’re a mom?”

you shrug, feeling a little defensive but mostly scared. “it’s happened before,” you say quietly. 

“people hear ‘single mom,’ and they run for the hills. i just… didn’t want that to happen again.”

lena is quiet for a moment, her eyes still on the picture of macy. she seems to be absorbing everything, and you can’t help but hold your breath, waiting for her to say something—anything.

“is the father around?” lena says her thoughts out loud. 

“oh no no no. um– he didn’t want anything to do with macy. he also passed away shortly after mae turned one. her father and i were never together or even had feelings for eachother– it was just um..” you trail.

“i’m very sorry about that.” lena says, looking up at you before looking back to the photo of your little daughter. 

“oh no don’t apologize.” you say.

there's a pause for a few minutes. its clear that you wanted to switch the topic away from macy’s biological father, who wanted nothing to do with her before his passing anyways. 

lena looks up at you, giving your phone back with her expression softening. 

“you’d thought i’d run?” lena asks, a small, incredulous smile playing on her lips. 

“because of this? because of her?”

you shrug again, not trusting yourself to speak. all your worst fears are bubbling to the surface, and you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the moment it all falls apart.

lena reaches across the table, taking your hand gently in hers. 

“y/n, she’s beautiful,” she says, her voice sincere. “i mean, she really is a little version of you.”

you blink, the words not sinking in right away. “you… you’re not mad?” you ask, your voice trembling just slightly.

lena shakes her head, squeezing your hand. “no, i’m not mad. i just… wish you’d told me sooner. i know we’ve only been official for a week but–” she pauses, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“i get why you didn’t, but… i’m not going anywhere. i like you. and now that i know about macy… i like her too. even if we haven’t met yet.”

the relief that washes over you is almost overwhelming, and you feel your eyes welling up. you’ve been bracing yourself for rejection, for lena to tell you this was too much for her. 

though here she is, sitting across from you, holding your hand, and telling you that she’s not going anywhere.

“you’re really okay with this?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“more than okay,” lena says, her voice firm but kind. 

“you’re a mom. that’s a part of who you are, and that’s okay with me.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart finally starting to settle. 

“thank you,” you whisper, blinking back the tears. “you don’t know how much that means to me coming from you.”

lena smiles, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting go. “so, when do i get to meet this little mini-you?” she asks with a teasing grin.

you chuckle softly, wiping at the corner of your eye. “soon. i just… didn’t want to spring her on you right away.”

“well, now that i know about her,” lena says, leaning back with a playful smirk, “i feel like i’m the one being kept a secret from macy.”

you laugh, the tension between you finally breaking. “i guess we’ll have to fix that soon.”

lena grins, taking another sip of her coffee. “i’m looking forward to it.”

the next day– lena doesn’t text much. you know that she is busy training at bayern but anxiety consumes you. 

your thoughts spiral. maybe she changed her mind and realized that it was too much for her. maybe she’s having second thoughts. 

by mid-afternoon, you’re glued to your phone while macy is with her aunt (your sister), checking for any sign from her. 

nothing comes, and your heart sinks.

as you’re picking macy up from your sisters, your phone finally buzzes. lena’s name flashes across the screen, and you almost drop your keys in your hurry to check it.

lena: hey, can we talk later? i’ve been thinking a lot.

you stare at the message, panic clawing at your chest. thinking doesn’t sound good. you force yourself to respond.

you: sure. what time?

the reply is almost instant. 

lena: i can come over tonight?

you hesitate. having her over… that means she’ll meet macy, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for that yet. you also know you can’t keep her at arm’s length forever. you type back quickly.

you: yes, come at 7.

you spend the rest of the afternoon trying not to overthink it. 

as soon as macy is fed and bathed, your nerves start creeping back. you’re pacing the living room, glancing at the clock, when the doorbell rings.

macy, sitting on the couch with her stuffed miffy bunny and fluffy blanket, perks up. 

“mama, door!”

you smile, ruffling her hair. 

“stay here, baby,” you say softly, walking to the door. 

you open it, and there she is—lena, standing on your doorstep wearing a black outfit along with a grey beanie, looking as unsure as you feel.

“hey,” she says, giving you a small smile.

“hey,” you reply, stepping aside to let her in. you’re about to close the door when macy toddles over, clutching her miffy bunny in her small hands. lena’s eyes immediately land on her, and she smiles.

“this must be macy,” lena says, her tone soft and warm.

you nod, watching as macy stares up at lena with her wide (reader’s color) eyes. 

“yeah, this is her.”

lena crouches down to macy’s level, holding out her hand. “hey, macy. i’m lena.”

macy looks at you for reassurance before shyly reaching out to shake lena’s hand. 

“miffy bunny,” she says, showing off her stuffed toy.

lena chuckles softly. “that’s a cool bunny.”

you watch the exchange, your heart swelling with something you hadn’t expected. lena looks so natural with macy, and it’s a sight you weren’t prepared for. 

you clear your throat, trying to shake off the wave of emotion.

“so, um, you said you wanted to talk?” you ask, motioning for lena to follow you to the couch.

she nods, standing up and giving macy one last smile before sitting beside you. macy toddles back to the couch, climbing up and sitting between your legs, still clutching her bunny as her small arms hug your waist.

“yeah,” lena says, glancing between you and macy. “i’ve been thinking a lot since last night.”

you nod slowly, waiting for the bomb to drop.

“i know this is a lot,” she continues, her voice gentle but steady. 

“and i understand if you’re worried about how i’ll fit into your life, into macy’s life, but… i want to try.”

you blink, taken aback. “you do?”

lena nods, reaching out to gently take your hand. 

“yeah. i mean, i didn’t expect this either, but i really like you, y/n. and if macy’s a part of your life, then i want to be a part of that too.”

you sit back, still reeling from the way the conversation unfolded. the tension that had knotted up your stomach starts to loosen, but you can’t help feeling the need to set some boundaries—just to be sure lena knows what this really means. 

it’s too early in the relationship to assume anything, and you don’t want to put any pressure on her, especially when it comes to macy.

taking a deep breath, you meet lena’s eyes. 

“i just want to be clear about something,” you say softly. 

“i don’t expect anything from you when it comes to macy. you’re not obligated to her, and i’d never force any duties on you. it’s still really early in our relationship, and i don’t want you to feel like you have to step into a role you’re not ready for. if you just want to date me, that’s okay. i mean it. however i just want you to understand that in a case between you vs. macy– i’ll always choose macy.”

lena watches you closely, her brow furrowing slightly as she listens. she leans forward, resting her arms on the table, and shakes her head gently. 

“y/n, you don’t have to put up walls.”

you bite your lip, feeling the weight of her gaze. “i’m not putting up walls,” you explain quietly. 

“i just… i want to be fair. macy’s is the biggest part of my life, but she’s my responsibility, not yours. i don’t want you to feel like you have to take on so much at once. i don’t want you to feel trapped.”

lena sits back in her chair, exhaling slowly. her eyes soften as she takes in your words. 

“first of all, macy isn’t a trap,” she says firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. 

“she’s your daughter. i don’t see that as something to run from.”

your heart stumbles at her words, but you try to stay grounded. “but it’s still a lot for you,” you press gently. 

“being with me means being with macy too, and that’s a lot to ask of anyone. especially this soon.”

lena reaches across the table again, her hand finding yours, warm and steady. “i get what you’re saying,” she begins, her voice calm but sincere. 

“and i appreciate that you don’t want to rush things or put pressure on me. but, y/n, macy is a part of you. she’s part of your life, and if i want to be with you, that means i’m choosing to include her too.”

she squeezes your hand, her eyes locked on yours. “i’m not saying i’m trying to be her mom right away, or that i know how all of this is supposed to work. but i want to figure it out. because macy is important to you, and that makes her important to me.”

your heart swells, and you can feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes again. you hadn’t expected this, not so soon, and certainly not with such certainty in her voice. 

it’s like lena had already made the decision in her heart before you even started this conversation.

you blink back the tears, swallowing hard as you nod. “i… i didn’t know if you’d feel that way.”

“of course i do,” lena says softly, her thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. 

“i’m not scared off by you being a mom, y/n. it doesn’t make me want this any less.” 

you take a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the depth of her words. “i’ve never had anyone say that to me before,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper. 

“it’s always been the reason people walk away.”

lena’s eyes soften even more, and she moves her chair closer to you, her hand never leaving yours. “well, i’m not them,” she says simply, her voice steady and sure. “i’m here. and i’m not going anywhere.”

the emotions well up in you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. you look down at your joined hands, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. she’s serious. she’s really serious.

“thank you,” you finally whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for… for staying.”

lena smiles, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

macy, oblivious to the weight of the conversation, leans against your arm, yawning as she starts to doze off. 

you glance down at her, then back at lena, your heart full in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

from that moment on, things between you and lena shift. she starts coming over more, spending time not just with you but with macy too. 

at first, macy is a little shy around her, but lena is patient, never pushing too hard, just gently easing her way into your daughter’s life. it doesn’t take long before macy is running to the door to greet lena with a grin, her little arms reaching up for a hug.

the first time macy calls her "obi”,  your heart skips a beat. it's a simple moment—you're all sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by toys, when macy tugs on lena's sleeve, her big eyes looking up at her expectantly.

"obi, play?" she asks, holding out a mermaid barbie.

lena grins, taking the truck from macy. "of course liebe."

watching them together, you can't help but smile. it’s becoming clearer each day—lena’s not just here for you. 

she’s here for macy too. sometimes you joke that she is only here for macy.

as the years goes by, lena becomes more and more involved in your life. she starts joining you for bedtime routines, helping with bath time, reading macy her favorite stories as she grows older. 

after lena, macy, and you move into an apartment together— lena is for the tantrums, the messy dinners, the sleepless nights. sometimes, she will take the initiative so you can rest. the more time she spends with macy, the more it feels like she belongs in your little family.

three years after the important conversation, your life with lena feels like a dream. 

macy is five now, full of energy and curiosity, and lena has been there for all of it—every scraped knee, every preschool recital, every bedtime story. your home is filled with laughter and warmth, the life you never imagined you’d have when you were raising macy on your own. 

now, as you sit together on the couch, macy fast asleep in her room, lena leans into you, her fingers tracing patterns on your hand. she’s quiet, more thoughtful than usual, and you can sense something’s on her mind. she glances at the engagement ring on your finger, the same ring you’ve been admiring for months now, and then turns to you with a serious expression.

“i was thinking,” lena says quietly, her voice soft in the dim light.

“about what?” you ask, turning to look at her.

she hesitates for a moment, her hand pausing on your arm. “about macy. and… about us.”

your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady. “what about us?”

“i know it’s still early but…” she says, her voice careful, 

you blink, processing her words. “but…?”

she takes a deep breath. “once we get married i’ll be macy’s stepmom. something i’ve been thinking about for a while. however i don’t want to wait until then. i want to be a mom to macy. if you’ll let me.”

the weight of her words settles over you, and for a moment, you’re speechless. you’d always hoped, deep down, that lena would want to be a part of macy’s life, but hearing her say it out loud—it feels overwhelming in the best possible way.

“i know i’m not her biological mom, and i’ll never try to replace that, but… i love her, y/n. i love both of you. and if you’re ready for that, i’d like to be her mom too.”

the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over, and you reach up to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. “we’d love that, obi.” you whisper. “we’d love that.” you repeat in awe.

when macy starts calling her “mama lena,” after she turns six– your heart nearly bursts with love.

macy is seven now, and the bond between her and lena has only grown stronger over the years. she clings to lena in a way that sometimes surprises you—like she’s always seeking her approval or comfort. 

it’s been that way ever since lena officially adopted her after turning thirty-one, and you and lena got married. 

you remember that day so vividly, the moment the judge declared that lena was now macy’s legal mother. the joy on lena’s face, the way macy had leaped into her arms, calling her “mama” with such pure excitement, filled your heart with pride and love.

it wasn’t long after when lena got the call—an offer from chelsea. it was a huge opportunity, one that meant she’d be competing in the women’s super league. after a lot of late-night talks and some serious decision-making, lena accepted the offer, which meant the three of you were moving to london. 

the change was exciting, something fresh and new for all of you. macy was thrilled at the idea of living in a new city, and as for you, the thought of starting a new chapter together made you incredibly happy.

in london, lena is the person macy runs to for almost everything. scraped knees, homework help, even just to ask if she can have a snack—lena is her go-to. most days, it fills you with happiness to see them so close, to know that macy has someone who loves her so much. 

sometimes, like today, you can’t help but feel a little sting.

you’d been in the middle of getting macy ready for school. she was in a hurry as usual, fidgeting in her seat while you knelt to help her tie her shoes. 

before you could finish, she pulled her foot away, laughing. “no, no, mama lena does it better!” she giggled, her bright smile lighting up her face.

you laughed too, even though the words pricked at your heart. “oh, really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“guess i’ll need to practice, huh?”

macy just grinned, her curls bouncing as she wiggled her toes. “yeah, you should! don’t worry, you’re still good at other stuff!”

you smiled, ruffling her hair. “well, i’m glad i’m still useful for something.”

she giggled again, completely unaware of how her innocent words had stirred something in you. 

you shoved the feeling aside quickly, focusing instead on making her laugh as you pretended to dramatically fumble with her shoes. her laughter filled the room, her curls tumbling down her back as she leaned forward in her chair, watching you with bright eyes. 

it wasn’t until you were dropping her off at school that the feeling crept back in, like a quiet ache in the pit of your stomach.

it wasn’t that you were jealous—at least, you didn’t think you were. you loved that macy and lena were so close. you’d always hoped that one day macy would have a strong bond with lena, and seeing it unfold so naturally had been like a dream come true. 

still, moments like this made you wonder if you were slowly being edged out, if macy was starting to see lena as the “cool” mom while you were just… the other one that happened to look like her.

you tried not to dwell on it too much. lena had been nothing but supportive, always making sure you knew how important you were to both of them. and really, you were happy. 

lena had embraced being a mother to macy in every way—going to parent-teacher conferences, staying up late to help with school projects, even helping macy with her football in-between training at chelsea. 

that was another thing: football.

macy had recently started showing a serious interest in the sport, much to lena’s delight. she idolized her mama, always asking about drills and tactics, begging to go to practice with her. 

one afternoon, after watching one of lena’s games, macy had turned to you both, her eyes wide with excitement. 

“i want to play football too!” she’d said, bouncing on her toes.

lena’s face had lit up with pride. “you do, huh? well, we can definitely make that happen.”

since then, lena had been working on getting macy into training, talking to coaches and setting up practice sessions in your backyard. you’d watch them sometimes, lena patiently teaching macy how to pass the ball, how to position herself. 

the way macy looked up at lena, so full of admiration, always made you smile. you were thrilled that your daughter had someone like lena to look up to, someone who could teach her the things you never could.

and yet, in the quieter moments, when macy would run to lena after a long day, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of sadness. it wasn’t that macy didn’t love you—she did, of course.

there was something different about the way she clung to lena, like lena was her whole world. you couldn’t blame her. lena was a natural with her, always knowing just the right thing to say or do to make macy feel safe and loved.

you’d catch yourself watching them sometimes, a soft smile on your face as you listened to their conversations, the easy way they communicated without needing to say much. you’d hide your feelings behind a joke, like the time macy had joked about lena being better at making breakfast, and you’d playfully said, “well, guess i’ll just stick to making the coffee then.” macy had laughed, and you’d felt the sting lessen, pushing it to the back of your mind.

around this time, you and lena had started talking more seriously about having another child. 

this time, you would carry, using lena’s egg along with a donor. you’d been through a few consultations, and after what felt like a whirlwind of planning and waiting, the IVF procedure was finally successful. 

you were pregnant with another little girl.

the joy that filled your heart was indescribable. the idea of adding to your family, of giving macy a sibling, was something you’d dreamed about for so long. and now, with the news confirmed, it was time to tell macy. 

you weren’t sure how she’d react—she’d always been so used to being the only one, the center of attention. but you were hopeful that she’d be excited.

one evening, you and lena sat macy down, her favorite blanket draped over her lap as she snuggled on the couch between you. lena’s arm was around your shoulders, her hand resting gently on your belly, already slightly swollen with the new life growing inside.

“munchkin,” lena said softly, looking at macy with a warm smile. “we have some big news for you.”

macy looked up, her curiosity piqued.

“what is it?”

you took a deep breath, smiling as you leaned forward a little. “you’re going to be a big sister, sweetheart.”

macy’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her mind clearly racing to process what you’d said. 

“a big sister?” she repeated, her voice uncertain.

“that’s right,” lena added, squeezing your shoulder gently. “there’s a baby in here.” she gestured to your belly. “a little sister for you.”

macy’s face scrunched up, her expression a mix of confusion and hesitation. “but… i like being the only one,” she admitted, her voice small.

you shared a glance with lena, both of you understanding her hesitation. “we know, sweetheart,” you said gently. 

“and you’ll always be our first, our special girl. but having a sister means you’ll have someone to play with, someone who’ll look up to you, someone who’ll need your help.”

macy was quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about what you’d said. her little fingers twisted in the edge of her blanket, her brow furrowed as she processed the news. you could tell she wasn’t sure how to feel.

“and you’ll still get to do everything you love,” lena added. “football, school, everything. this just means there will be more love in the house. and maybe, when she’s old enough, you can teach her some football moves.”

macy’s eyes brightened a little at that, the idea of teaching someone something she loved appealing to her. “i get to teach her football?”

you smiled, nodding. “absolutely. you’re going to be the best big sister ever.”

slowly, macy’s frown faded, replaced by a tentative smile. “okay,” she said, her voice soft but a little more certain. 

“i’ll be the best big sister ever. but only if i get to teach her football.”

lena laughed, pulling macy into a tight hug. “deal.”

and just like that, your family took another step forward, your heart full of love as you prepared for the next chapter in your lives—together.

masterlist

[babygirlwritessmut]

♡︎ part5. the morning after

MINORS DNI!

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: after a great night with Vi, you didn`t hear your parents coming back, so you are trying to hide Vi in your room

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 1.5k

✎ warnings: 18+, smut, sub!vi, fingering

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

Vi woke up to the sound of a car pulling up. she got up and peeked out the window. “cupcake, how soon did you want me to meet your parents?”

“mmm, what?” you mumbled, yawning and opening one eye. Vi was standing by the window, looking intently outside.

“I mean, I don’t mind, but maybe we should at least go on a date first,” she said, glancing away from the window. her eyes roamed over your breasts with a playful hunger, as you lay there still uncovered from the night before. you enjoyed how Vi looked at you, savoring the attention and not reaching for the blanket to cover yourself.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, still trying to catch up with the context of her words.

she finally tore her gaze from you and said, “your parents. they’re here. right now.”

“what?! what time is it?” you grabbed your phone, shocked to see it was past noon. “no, no, no, I’m… I’m still naked, Vi!” you frantically began gathering your pajamas from the floor. Vi just laughed at you. “it’s not funny; they can’t know you stayed here last night and that we… oh my god.”

“that we… what?” she stepped closer, running her finger over your nipple. you bit your lip but moved her hand away. she just waved it off and said, “don't worry, I’ll go downstairs and pretend I slept there.”

you heard the front door open, and your mom called out to you. “no, it’s too late, you need to hide in the closet,” you whispered, hurriedly pulling on your clothes.

“in the closet? are you serious?” Vi chuckled at your words. “we’re not sixteen.”

“yes, yes, but...” you heard footsteps on the stairs. “go, now!” you whispered to Vi, rushing out and closing the door behind you.

you almost ran into your mom, who gasped in surprise. “everything alright?”

“yes, mom!” you cleared your throat and said more calmly, “yeah, mom, I just overslept a bit since we stayed up late last night. I’ll freshen up and come down to help clean.” you forced a smile, hoping your heart wasn’t racing too visibly.

“well, alright.” your mom gave you a questioning look and went downstairs. when you entered the room, Vi came out to meet you.

“I'll clean up downstairs quickly and be right back with you, don’t go anywhere!” you whispered to Vi, who smiled and did as you said.

once downstairs, you found out that the other girls had already left. after tidying up the pillows and bedding, you joined your parents and shared some details about the evening, carefully omitting certain parts, then excused yourself to clean up your room.

back in your room, you let Vi out of the closet. when your eyes met, you both struggled to hold back laughter. she was holding something, and as she lifted her hand, you saw it was your red panties. “maybe you could wear these for me next time?” Vi winked at you.

“only if you take them off me.” you pulled her by her shirt, pressing your lips to hers. your tongue explored her mouth as her hands gripped your hips, and you wrapped a leg around hers. you had never wanted anyone this much, craving the feel of her lips on your body, her fingers inside you, and wanting to give her the same pleasure.

in the heat of the kiss, you forgot about your parents and pinned Vi against the wall by your door. she nearly growled at how hungrily you kissed her, eager to strip you down and taste you again, to make you moan as loudly as possible. lost in each other, one of you accidentally knocked a lamp off the table. you both started laughing, but then you heard a voice right outside the door.

“are you okay in there? what was that noise?" your mom was right outside. without hesitation, you clamped a hand over Vi’s mouth and peeked out the door. “yeah, mom, I just dropped my book.” your mom looked at you quizzically, and you felt Vi start to lick your fingers, sending a shiver through you. you panicked, trying to pull your hand away, but she kept licking, and you felt yourself getting flustered. “okay, I’ll clean up; sorry for the noise,” you said quickly, closing the door and giving Vi a nervous glare.

she took your hand and slipped two of your fingers into her mouth, sucking on them. the look on your face changed instantly at the sight. you turned the lock on the door and pushed her toward the bed.

climbing on top of Vi, you kissed her lips passionately. breaking away from her mouth, you moved to her neck, and when you ran your tongue from her collarbone to her ear, she tilted her head back and let out a soft moan. your hands slid under her shirt, caressing her stomach, and the feel of her muscles excited you immensely. your hand slowly descended to the waistband of her boxers, and you looked to see Vi’s reaction. her face had a seductive smile that made your head spin; your lips met hers again as your hand slipped under her clothes. you felt her wetness under your fingers, and as you traced over her clit, she threw her head back. seizing the moment, your fingers slid inside her, and you watched her grip the blanket tightly. moving your fingers, you felt her warmth inside, the soft walls of her pussy squeezing around you. as you sped up, Vi bit her hand - no one needed to hear you two right now. you could see her hips start moving in rhythm with your fingers, her body responding to every motion, and you almost regretted not hearing her moans. when Vi threw her head back again and bit her lip, you knew she was close. with your other hand, you started stimulating her clit, feeling her tighten around your fingers, until she came. carefully, you removed your hand from her boxers and looked up.

“what was that just now?” she whispered softly to you.

“I couldn’t let you go just like that, especially after last night.” you winked and helped her sit up.

“well, that was definitely the right call,” Vi laughed. “but I really have to go.” she began to change, and you watched her every movement. her entire body was perfect for you - how had you never noticed how beautiful she was?

“there’s a game tonight. want to come?” Vi whispered to you. for a moment, you realized that after the argument with Troy, you had completely forgotten about football, and everything connected to it. you hadn’t even thought about the schedule anymore. “I’d like you to be there,” she added.

“then I’ll definitely come,” you said, standing up from the bed and giving her a kiss on the cheek. you handed her bag to her and gestured to the window. “unfortunately, it looks like you’ll have to go out this way.” Vi just laughed again and nodded. as she was about to climb out, she handed you your red panties, which she had found earlier in your closet, but you said, “keep them. I have your jacket, so you can have these.” you looked into each other’s eyes one last time, and Vi gently brushed her hand over your necklace before slipping out the window, smiling.

after finally tidying up as you’d promised your mom, you took a shower. while getting ready, you could only think about Vi - how could you not? she had filled your thoughts completely. once you were dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, you checked the weather on your phone and decided to bring a jacket just in case. your eyes immediately fell on Vi’s red jacket, and you bit your lip, remembering last night. you slipped it over your shoulders, still smelling her scent on it, and gently ran your fingers over the fabric before heading downstairs.

“mom, I'm going to the game,” you said, peeking into the living room where your parents were watching a movie.

“I thought you would not go there anymore after what happened with Troy.” your parents paused the movie and looked at you carefully.

“yeah, I just feel like going today,” you replied a bit uncertainly. you weren't good at lying to your parents, so you quickly looked away.

“uh-huh, alright.” you were about to turn to leave when your mom added, “nice jacket.”

“um, thanks,” you replied, blushing.

“oh, and next time, please tell Vi that we have a front door,” your body went cold, and your eyes widened in embarrassment. “have fun.”

you decided it was better not to reply, so cursing under your breath, you left as quickly as possible.

[iheartcoffeecakesm]

"Anything" 💙 Curly x Anya

art credit: seagummies on twitter

warnings: angst, topic of miscarriage

this is a good ending au of mouthwashing! if u are a hater, then dni🥰 this post aint for u, babe

Chapter 1

Jimmy had been dead for the past few months due to the crash. The crew has been slowly rotting. They have lost all hope, and for good reason. Daisuke and Swansea are unconscious because of hunger and exhaustion. Curly and Anya are slowly losing grip. Despite all this, the beautiful glowing screen still showcased the moon and stars. Curly's hair sticks to his face due to anxious sweat. "Well, we had a good run. Didn't we." Curly smiled. Anya laid beside him and she smiled despite the tears rolling down her face. "Yeah." Curly's breath hitches "Anya... I'm-”

Curly opened his eyes with a jolt. There he was, in the hospital. His whole body was aching. A nurse walked over to his bed, "How are you feeling, sir?" His eyes widened harshly. "Where is my crew?" He yelled. "Are they okay? Is Anya alive? I never got to tell her I'm sorry!" Curly's heart beat spiked. Thinking about Anya's distressed face made him feel nauseous from guilt. He placed his head in his hands, as if grappling with reality. The nurse spoke gently to try and to calm him down, "Everyone is okay. Some are still waking up." He sighed, feeling relieved. A doctor came into the room. "How did we survive? How are we home?" Curly was more than shocked. The doctor walked up to him, holding his papers. "Another space ship found you guys. Some astronomers were on an expedition in the area. You all were very lucky they were out there." The doctor said, cracking a smile. Curly looked down at his hands. "What room is Anya in? If you don't mind asking." Curly asked quietly. The nurse responded, "Room 25. And this is 24." After doing some basic checkups, and giving him some medicine for the pain, the doctor and the nurse left. Curly laid there, alone with his thoughts.

A few hours pass by, and unable to just sit and do nothing, Curly sneaks out of his room. He finds Anya sitting down in the lobby. The moon light shining on her in her hospital gown. She looked tired as usual, and mentally drained, but she still smiled faintly when she heard his voice. "Anya!" He cried out, limping towards her. She looks up at him and smiles with tears in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and cried. She held his head gently. "Anya... I-I I'm so sorry. I should have done something. You already had told me that you felt uncomfortable around him. I felt like I was losing my mind. I didn't know what to do. I'm so sorry that I made it seem like I didn't care. I care so much. I will do anything you want to gain your forgiveness. We don't have to ever talk again if that's what you wish. I'm so sorry, Anya." The words came out almost pleadingly, and rushed. He couldn’t hold back a sob. "Captain-... Curly. Our worst moments don't define us. I don't blame you for what happened, we were in the middle of space. But it will still take me a long time to heal. Thank you." Anya was always the more quiet kind. She didn't know how to respond. After several quiet minutes spoke quietly, "I lost the baby." Curly looks up at her, his eyes slightly wide. To not offend her, he asked honestly, "How do you feel?" Tears rolled down her face, as she stared at the ground. "Empty.”

In the morning, Curly and Anya met up with Daisuke and Swansea. It seemed they were recovering well. The crew all sat together in the lobby. It was surreal, everything felt so much lighter. Almost happy. "How are you guys doing? What do you plan on doing after this?" Curly asked. Daisuke's face lights up, "That was totally crazy! I'm happy we survived. I can't wait to see my mom." Swansea pops in, "Heh, It will be nice to be with my family again. No more pony express. I get to be a retired lazy old man!" Swansea chuckles. Anya and Curly look at each other smiling. It felt like a dream.

A few days went by, and the crew slowly recovered. Everyone was released from the hospital once they were fully recovered. Getting back from the hospital was refreshing. The sterile white rooms grew to be nauseating. He could finally go home. Curly pulled up to his home, the sight of his big white house with blue shutters made him smile. That company never cared. Some random astronomers were the ones who cared enough to save them. He was free from that stupid job. He hated being glorified, he soon realized. Curly felt like a monster after everything that had happened. His loving pet guinea pig was waiting for him in his bedroom. Curly’s mother would take care of her every day while Curly was gone. Whenever anyone visits, they are surprised that he has such a small creature when he's such a big guy. Almost every time someone says the classic "Wow. I thought you would have a dog of some sort, captain." He sighed and flopped on the bed but gently held Daphne. He felt so relieved to be home, after all this time. But every time he tried to close his eyes, he would see Anya's crying face

☆

sooo this is my first fan fic ever that im gonna actually commit to😭 plz be patient. also, im gonna try to write the miscarriage plot as realistic as possible. i have had multiple friends and family that have suffered from miscarriages

[merthosus]

Don’t kiss the cast members part 2

Summary: After practicing a scene with Aidan, he did not quite stick to the script. Now you need to maneuver the situation smoothly, without getting into trouble. But Aidan had other ideas. Ignoring everything until he breaks down onto you like clouds soaked with rain.

@tobyisdumb your wish be my command

Rough, fast and so unbelievable good.

The taste of his bittersweet lips still stuck onto yours. You wanted to do it again, no doubt. But your mind stoped you, seeing the problems, which come with it. “Aidan we can’t..." you stumble across your words, but before you could end your sentence he smashed his lips again on yours. His smell alone tarnished all of your senses. The more you kiss, the wetter the kiss is, you feel how his hands push you harshly more into him.

It felt like he lost control, not caring anymore, that we are on a set, anyone could possibly enter. "Aidan", you mumble onto his lips, which were still occupied, exploring you. Suddently he grabbed your thigh, pulling it to his side. He shudders and lets a loose pant fall out his mouth. He seems shocked himself, his body goes tense. He let's go of you, his body leave's yours.

You watch him as he walks back to the desk pulling the script from one of the deco books and walking out. You felt empty, shocked... you couldn't even find a fitting word for it. He left faster, than your brain could comprehend. Reality flogs right into your face. He kissed you. Rough, fast and so unbelievable good. But leaving you like this was not okay, defiantly not. Suddently your anger came back. Fist he makes out with you and then he let's you hanging like this.

You get out of your paralysis and grab your script. This was not professional, it was everything but professional. You cram the peace of paper into your handbag and walk out of the set. You need to get into another set to film a scene with Robert. He squeaked as he saw you and welcomed you happily. It's miraculous how he always lifts the mood when he is in the room. "Heyyyy", he says while hugging you. As he steps away again and looks you deep into the eyes.

"You ok? You kinda look... bewildered", he tries to word it nicely. "I don't know, something very confusing happened", you tell him without saying too much. "Funny, Aidan had the same flustered expiration in his face as he walked by. Are you two a thing?", he asks you. This was a big part of his personality, teasing people with rumors. "Course, we made out in the back of the set", you say matching his tone.

-

After filming the scenes, you get out of your makeup and walk to the buffet. Getting a hot coffee after a long filming day was your treat. You let one of side of the script on the set you and Aidan had 'rehearsed', so you grab your things and go to set 36. You text your mom that you will be home soon and that you took a croissant for her at the buffet. You look up from your phone searching the room for the paper you had lost. You hoped that nobody took it.

You couldn't quite put your finger onto it but you felt watched. You turn around and search for the eyes, which were looking at you, but you found none. "Hello?", you ask. Suddently you get pressed into the wall beside you. You let out a scared squeak, as you feel hands on your hips. Aidan stands before you, his thin body pressing you into the wall. "What do you want?", you ask him, rougher than you actually intended to.

"You", he whispers. "Aidan this is insane", you mumble, as you look into his, with hair covered eyes. "You let me standing there after what you just did", you say. He shakes his head and lays his hand on your cheek. "I am sorry I just didn't know what to do", he ends his sentence in a whisper.

Aidan's intense gaze locks onto yours as he leans in closer, the weight of his presence almost suffocating. "I know," he whispers, his voice laced with regret, "I shouldn't have walked away like that. But I... I panicked." His breath is warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

His confession hangs in the air, and for a moment, the tension between you both feels unbearable. His hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if he's afraid to let go, yet unsure if he should hold on. The smell of him—earthy, with a hint of something sweet—clouds your thoughts, making it hard to think straight. "You can't just do that," you murmur, your voice trembling with the emotions surging inside you. "You can't kiss me like that and then act like it never happened."

His eyes soften, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. "I know," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I can't stop thinking about you. About us." The weight of his words crashes down on you, and for a moment, you forget where you are, the set, the script, everything fading into the background. All that exists is the space between you two, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Aidan moves closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I don't want to run anymore," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "But this... it's complicated. We're complicated." You feel your resolve weakening, the warmth of his body so close to yours drawing you in, but the rational part of your brain fights back. "Adian, this can't just be... some fling. We have to work together. What if—" He cuts you off with a kiss, softer this time, but no less intense. It's as if he's trying to pour all his confusion, frustration, and longing into that single moment. And despite everything, you find yourself kissing him back, unable to resist the pull between you.

When he finally pulls away, both of you are breathless. "I don't know what this is," he says quietly, "but I want to find out. With you." You stare at him, heart pounding, as you try to make sense of everything. The logical side of you knows this could lead to disaster, but your heart... your heart is telling you something else entirely. "Aidan," you begin, your voice steadying, "if we do this, we have to be careful. This could get messy. Really messy." He nods, his expression serious. "I know. But for once, I don't care about the consequences. I care about you."

His words leave you speechless, and for the first time, you allow yourself to consider the possibility. Maybe, just maybe, this could be something more than a mistake. "Okay," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But we take it one step at a time. No more running." A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he nods. "One step at a time," he agrees, his hand gently caressing your cheek. For a moment, the world feels like it’s standing still, the only thing that matters is the connection between the two of you.

I hope you like it, let me know what you think about it :)

[nyrasproblm]

And would you go ahead and just cry? 2/3

Jinx x fem!reader | Caitlyn x sister!reader

Summary: A conversation with your sister after Cassandra's death.

Word Count: 0,7K

Warnings: mention of character death, mention of PTSD attacks, mention of murder.

note: this chapter focuses on the reader's relationship with Caitlyn, so I apologize for not having any interactions with Jinx in it. But Vi does appear!!

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

< previous chapter next chapter >

You weren't surprised. You already knew she was going to do this, but not to this extent. It's not like you didn't understand her, Cassandra was your mother too, you were also grieving, your heart was hurting too.

But all of Zaun should not have to pay for the actions of just one person.

Walking quickly through the halls of the silent mansion, you could feel the anger emanating from you. Your steps stopped in front of the large door to Caitlyn's chambers, where you knocked and didn't wait for an answer to enter. The tall figure of your older sister stood in the center of the room, staring intently at the old map she left on the floor, and Vi's pink hair could be seen behind her, sitting on the bed.

You opened your mouth to question Caitlyn, but she spoke first: "You should measure your actions, like wait for me to answer before barging into my room. I'm sure you don't want to irritate me even more."

"Ah, don't start. I already know you know." you scoffed. "I'm surprised Commander Kiramman hasn't sent me to Stillwater yet."

"You have no consideration at all, do you? Or a brain?" she turned to you, the long blue cape shifting behind her. "How could you?"

"How could I what? Have a Zaunite friend? You have one there too." you nodded to Vi, who raised an eyebrow at you.

"Is it really that little to you?" Caitlyn sighed, her voice sounding weaker. "Don't you have any respect for Mom's memory?"

"I'm grieving too, Caitlyn. For God's sake." you sighed loudly. "But I can't let it take over me, or I won't be able to think straight."

"You don't seem like you're thinking straight." she raised her voice. "Mom dies and you're going to take comfort in her killer?"

"She didn't mean to do that! She was having an attack. You said you've seen it before." you exclaimed. "And I didn't come here to talk about her. The engineers told me that you want to shut down the ventilation system there."

"This is official business, it's about the search and capture of a criminal," she replied. "You shouldn't question me, I know what I'm doing."

"Have you lost your mind?! You can't do this, do you want to end everything?" you almost screamed. "How can you say I don't care about Mom's memory if you're the one trying to destroy it?"

"No one will get hurt. My team was only ordered to capture Jinx and nothing more." she said almost automatically.

"Caitlyn, our mom thought about the quality of life of those people when she had that ventilation system created. And I felt honored when she asked me to improve her creation." you murmured. "The Grey is toxic, you can't say no one will get hurt. You'll have protective masks, the people down there have nothing."

"You shouldn't even be here, you should be thankful I didn't have you arrested for siding with and not cooperating with the search for Mom's killer." she growled.

"What are you talking about now?" you fumed.

"Were you the one who gave her that hextech gem?" she frowned even more angrily.

"Of course not! Why would I do that?" you put your hands on your hips.

"If you stayed with her after she killed our mother, I don't doubt what you would do for her before that." She lowered her voice.

You laughed in derision, shaking your head, "You gave your girlfriend who just got out of jail an enforcer position, is that any different?"

Vi got up from the bed when she was mentioned. "I was wrongly arrested, I didn't commit any crime."

"Oh, shut up, you too." you rolled your eyes, irritated. "Aren't you ashamed of wearing that uniform? Your sister is alone and scared and here you are playing police officer."

"You don't know anything about me, and I doubt you know anything about Jinx either." she walked over to you and Caitlyn. "What do you think you are? A vigilante? Doing good deeds for the poor? You don't know anything about being in need. You've been up here your whole life."

"But I know very well what decency and loyalty are. Standing firm for what you believe in." you replied. "And I see that is not your case."

Vi's face twisted into an angry expression and she threatened to advance towards you, but was stopped by Caitlyn, who turned back to you: "That's enough. Our operation is going to happen, whether you like it or not. I suggest you stay away from Zaun, I'll leave enforcers to... look after you. Be thankful you're not trapped."

You huffed and turned to leave the room.

[moomine]

backwash II | daisuke

author's note: totally awesome people should check out part one as well ⍢ also, if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) It's been a little over a month since the Tulpar departed on its 382-day long haul. Anya takes the reader aside to perform her monthly psych eval, where she discusses her experiences with her peers and life on the ship so far. After she's clear to go, she runs into Daisuke who's drawing in the lounge.

word count: 2,291

warnings: mild language? all characters are 18+

now playing: Radiohead - "Motion Picture Soundtrack"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 028—

I’m starting to feel more and more homesick. I miss my mom’s roast chicken. I miss swimming pools and the feeling of the breeze. I miss burning incense. I miss my friends. It hasn’t been that long since we left Earth, but I guess I just never considered how still outer space would be. How lonely I’d feel. The others have been nice, yeah. Especially Anya. And Daisuke. I get the feeling that Captain Curly is still warming up to me. I wonder if he’s ever taken on another apprentice before. I don’t know about Swansea, or Jimmy. They seem to tolerate me at best. But then again, those two kind of just tolerate everyone, except for maybe Captain Curly. It’s only been almost a month. I just have to keep my head. 

If mom were here she’d say: “Everything gets easier with time. Time and patience.”

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN—

“Everything okay, [Name]?” Anya asked in a gentle tone, gingerly placing a hand on the table in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice as it filled the otherwise silent lounge. You looked up at her, feeling the tension seemingly wash away by the sight of her face. She offered you an understanding smile, her tired features softened as she looked down at you.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess,” you responded. 

You raised a hand to rub your eyes. It had been difficult to find sleep lately. The groaning of the ship was almost haunting at night. Laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you spent the few hours allotted for sleep thinking about Earth, about what laid just beyond the door to your room, about the ceaseless whining of steel and steam. About the next three hundred and fifty four days.

Anya nodded sympathetically, moving her hand from the table top to your shoulder blade. “It gets easier. I promise,” she paused as Jimmy and Curly entered the room, their voices loud and booming. “Are you ready for your psych eval?”

You nearly didn’t hear her over the sound of the other two. They were reminiscing, shouting stories back and forth of college parties, bar fights, and past lovers.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said with a timid grin. 

Anya nodded once more, motioning toward the door just past the kitchen space. You came to your feet and followed her until the two of you made it to her domain. The medical bay had become a safe haven for you. Over the past month, you gravitated toward Anya the most. She had been kind to you from the very beginning, almost sisterly. When there was no more work to be done, you often found yourself walking straight through the lounge and into her office. Anya didn’t mind. In fact, she had grown to rather enjoy the company.

She walked around the desk before taking a seat in her chair. Behind her was a wall of white shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Inside they held assorted medical supplies and books on psychology and basic clinical practice. To the right of her was a bulletin board, cluttered with posters, a calendar, pictures of her hometown, and notes and reminders. A number of Daisuke’s doodles had made it up as well, namely ‘Yimpy’, a rather horrible caricature of Jimmy. It was pretty realistic.

You sat across from her with your hands interlocked in a tight ball. “Same as last time, right?”

Anya grinned as she organized your file. “Yep, same as last time. Since it’s only your second evaluation, I’m going to go over it one more time. Is that okay with you?”

You nodded.

“Lovely,” she said with a soft hum. Tapping the papers into a neat pile against the desk, Anya glanced at you once more. Her eyes flickered from the page to you, you to the page as she read aloud. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your experience, relationships, and general well being during your time under contract with Pony Express. It is your responsibility to answer as truthfully as you feel comfortable and/or deem necessary. Your answers remain confidential unless you give reason to believe you are at risk of harming yourself or others. Do you have any questions?”

“No questions here,” you replied with a shake of your head.

“Perfect. Let’s get started. On a scale of one to ten, how confident do you feel in your capability to complete your work and responsibilities on a day to day basis?” Anya read.

“Maybe eight? I’m still getting a hold of some of the more technical aspects. The Tulpar is an older ship… I wasn’t exactly trained on her special quirks in school,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“You’ll catch on fast. You already have,” she reassured, jotting down your response with that sweet smile still on her face. “Okay, next question. You mentioned last time that you’ve been having difficulty sleeping, is that still a relevant cause for concern?”

“I don’t know if it’s that concerning. I think I’m just having a hard time getting used to the new environment. It’s been getting easier to fall asleep though,” you responded. A little, white lie.

“I’m happy to hear that, [Name]. Your rest is important. I remember not being able to sleep at all during my first haul. I spent all night just tossing and turning, reading my books if I could focus on them long enough. It’s normal, but from the sound of it, you’re doing a great job adjusting.” Her gaze softened as she spoke. It was clear that she had grown to care for you quite quickly, and you did the same for her. “Only a couple more left to go…”

Anya listened intently while you answered each of her questions, taking the time to write down key details of your responses. Between questions, the sound of her pen etching against the paper filled the room. As Anya wrapped up the second to last question, your eyes wandered to the evening window screen. The warm orange and reds of the artificial sunset made the room look like it was on fire. You looked back to your hands, reaching up to take a piece of your hair and twist it between two fingers.

“All right,” Anya spoke up. “Last but not least, how do you feel about your relationships with the rest of the crew? Is there anything I should know about in particular?”

“No, I don’t think so. Everyone has treated me fine enough. Other than you, I’m still trying to get to know everyone better,” you said, still focused on your hair.

Another sympathetic smile graced Anya’s lips as she looked over at you. She knew how it felt to feel slightly out of place. “Look, I’m technically not supposed to tell you this, so you have to keep it a secret. Okay?” Anya let out a quiet laugh as you nodded quickly. She watched amused as you dropped your strand of hair and leaned in closer. “Daisuke mentioned during his eval that he wanted to get to know you more. Maybe you could try talking to him? You two have more in common than you might think.”

You looked down at your lap again, biting at the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I will.”

“Well, you’re all set. You’re free to go.” Anya closed the file and tucked it away alongside the others in her desk. “Thank you for your time, [Name]. I assume I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time as usual?”

“Same time as usual,” you echoed, beaming as you got out of your chair and left the room.

From the hallway leading to the medical bay, you could tell that the lounge was quiet now. Curly and Jimmy must have wandered off elsewhere. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the subtle sound of pencil scratching coming from deeper within. As you entered the room you noticed Daisuke, hunched over the table as he sketched something in his sketchbook. Completely oblivious. You leaned against the doorway and watched from a distance for a moment, admiring as he tucked a tuft of fried brown hair behind his ear. 

“What are you drawing?” you questioned.

Daisuke jumped in his seat like a cat that had been snuck up on. His eyes shot to you, the surprise he felt immediately quelling into a tenuous excitement. He hastily closed his sketchbook —almost like he was hiding something— and smoothed out his hair. His mouth broke out into a wide, infectious smile, the gap in his two front teeth a thin ravine and the dimples on either side of his mouth tiny sinkholes.

“Me? Oh, y’know, just doodling,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if trying to act casual. “Where ya been? I couldn’t find- I mean, I didn’t see you back in the cockpit.”

“Psych eval.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb as you pushed yourself from the doorframe. “Can I see it?” you asked, walking up to the table and taking the seat across from him.

“Uhh… see what?” Daisuke asked in turn, voice coy and simultaneously flustered.

“Your doodles,” you responded with a laugh. “Only if you’re okay with that, obviously.”

“Oh! I mean, yeah. That’s like, totally fine. But, fair warning, they’re not that incredible or anything.” Reluctantly, Daisuke passed you his sketchbook. He looked rather bashful, cheeks slightly flushed and smile wavering.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve seen your stuff on Anya’s corkboard. You’re really good.” You took the sketchbook in your hands, looking down at the cover of it. It was absolutely littered in a random assortment of stickers. Only through the few and far between gaps could you see that it was once a pure black. It looked much cooler now decorated with the various games, bands, and whatever else Daisuke liked. “Are you sure you don’t mind me looking? Again, it’s perfectly fine if you changed your mind.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Just don’t expect too much, ‘kay?” he replied, running a hand through his hair.

“No expectations,” you agreed.

You turned over the cover, revealing the first page. In red ink you read ‘if found please return to Daisuke, thank youuuuuu’, alongside it was a doodle of himself looking particularly grateful. Or maybe he was pleading. You chuckled under your breath and began flipping through the rest of the pages. Each one was filled with sketches and those increasingly familiar doodles of predominantly other people. Friends, maybe family, and characters from the different games he liked. His work wasn’t quite realistic, but not the most stylized either. Rather, it seemed to be a perfect mix of the two. Something entirely unique to him. To Daisuke.

The deeper you got into the book you started to spy familiar faces. Captain Curly, Swansea, Anya, even Jimmy, but mostly you. You glanced up at him, seeing that he was seemingly avoiding eye contact with you all together. His hand was still tangled within his hair, head turned to the side, and lips knitted into a fine line. That mole —high on his left cheek— stared at you more than his own eyes.

When you finally got to the last page you realized he hadn’t been doodling at all. Instead, there before you, in soft pencil sketching, was a portrait of you that Daisuke had drawn from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was incredibly detailed nevertheless. You held up the book, taking in the details with a look of awe on your face. He captured all of your little imperfections —the tilt of your eyes, the quirk in your smile, all of it. 

“Daisuke, these are actually so good!” you exclaimed, setting the book down and passing it back to him.

“You… you really think so?” He let out a breath of relief, finally looking at you again. “Man, I thought you would find them totally weird. I’ve been too scared to show anyone else but Anya.”

“Why would I think they’re weird?” you asked.

“Shit, I dunno…” Daisuke trailed off.

You shook your head. “You’re really talented.”

“I- Thank you,” he breathed. Daisuke’s face softened as you looked at him from across the table. The flush in his cheeks was barely noticeable, a fair pink dusting the peaks of his features. “Hey, I noticed you brought a Walkman on board with you. I never thought I’d actually see one of those things in the flesh.”

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed lightly. “It was a gift from my mom. It’s outdated as hell, but I’ve got a bunch of custom tapes back in my room. We should totally listen to them sometime.”

“Are you kidding? Dude, I’d love to-”

“Daisuke!” Swansea called from down the hall, cutting him off. He rounded the corner, sticking his head into the lounge with a sweaty brow. “There you are. Get your ass up, break time’s over. We’ve got work to finish up before dinner.”

Daisuke looked noticeably disappointed at the sight of Swansea. “But I-”

“No ‘buts’. C’mon now, I don’t have all day,” Swansea said with a huff before he turned around, walking back toward the utility room.

“Coming,” Daisuke sighed. He stood up, tucking his sketchbook under his arm with a slight frown. “Guess I’ll see ya later, [Name].”

“Yeah! I’ve got to show you some of my mixes, remember?” you responded sweetly, smiling up at him.

Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. As he left the room, he adopted a pep in his step. A smile was glued to his face as he beamed down the hall. The human embodiment of sunshine in that moment.

[raekensluver]

the thanksgiving lie (introduction)

introduction, part one

description: every year, your mother calls to nag you about whether you're bringing anyone to thanksgiving. this time, you panic and say the first name that comes to mind- spencer reid.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fake dating trope, fluff

song rec: there is a light that never goes out by the smiths "and in the darkened underpass i thought, oh god, my chance has come at last"

w.c: 1.3k

an: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate!

"mom, i've got to go," you said, your eyes darting to the clock.

with the phone pressed to your ear, you could almost feel the anticipation radiating from the other side. "i know," your mom's voice chimed, "i'm sorry i just wanted to ask if you're bringing anyone special to thanksgiving this year?" her tone a perfect blend of hopefulness and curiosity. you paused, staring at the wall, the question hanging in the air like a forgotten halloween decoration. the clock ticked away, each second echoing louder than the last.

desperately, your gaze flitted around the room, searching for inspiration. and then, as if the universe had conspired to throw you a lifeline, it landed on spencer reid. he was engrossed in a book, the tip of his pen dancing across a notepad, lost in his own world of logic and analysis. you blurted out his name before your brain could catch up with your mouth. "yeah, actually, i might bring someone," you said, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. "who?" your mom's tone shot up an octave, excitement seeping through the line.

your heart pounded as you watched spencer, who remained blissfully unaware of the chaos he had just been unwittingly dragged into. you took a deep breath and hoped for the best. "spencer reid," you replied, as casually as you could manage. there was a beat of silence on the other end of the call, long enough for you to wonder if she had heard you correctly.

spencer looked up, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face as he met your eyes. you swallowed hard, your hand tightening around the phone. "spencer reid?" your mom repeated, her voice now filled with excitement. "the one who works with you at the bureau? oh, that's wonderful! i can't wait to finally meet the man who makes you talk about work even on weekends." she said, her voice brimming with approval. you nodded, even though she couldn't see you, feeling a mix of relief and dread. you hadn't even considered the possibility that she might actually believe you.

spencer's gaze remained on you, his brow furrowed slightly. you knew he had overheard your end of the conversation. your cheeks flushed as you realized you hadn't even asked him yet. "mom, i have to go now," you said quickly, cutting off any further questions she might have. "i'll let you know for sure when i know more, okay?" you didn't wait for her response before ending the call, the silence ringing in your ears.

you set the phone down, turning to face spencer. "so, about thanksgiving," you began, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. his eyes never left yours, the curiosity now a full-blown question mark. "yeah?" he said, his voice even, betraying no emotion.

swallowing your nerves, you plunged ahead. "i might have accidentally told my mom that i'm bringing someone," you admitted, watching for his reaction. spencer's eyebrows shot up, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. "oh?" was all he said, his gaze never wavering.

you took his calm demeanor as a good sign and continued. "so, do you have any plans for thanksgiving?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as you could while your stomach was doing somersaults. "not particularly," he replied, setting his book aside and placing his notepad on the coffee table. "why do you ask?"

his curiosity had turned into suspicion, the gears in his brilliant mind already turning. "well, i kind of… mentioned that you might come with me to my family's dinner," you said, the words tumbling out of your mouth. his eyes widened a fraction, the only indication that he was surprised by your revelation. "you did?"

his voice remained neutral, but you could see the wheels turning behind those piercing blue eyes. "yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "i just thought, you know, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, and she's been asking every year if i'm bringing anyone special, and this year i just panicked and said your name." you rushed to explain, your words coming out in a jumbled mess.

spencer leaned back into his chair, his fingers tapping a silent rhythm on the armrest. "interesting," he said. "and what exactly does 'might come with you' entail?" he inquired, his gaze never leaving yours.

you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to organize your thoughts. "it means, if you don't have any plans, you could come with me to my parents' place for thanksgiving," you said, hoping the simplicity of the offer would be enough. "you know, to meet the family, eat some turkey, pretend to be my boyfriend for a night?"

his expression didn't change, but his tapping stopped. "pretend to be your boyfriend?" he echoed, his voice a tad skeptical. "what makes you think i would agree to that?"

you felt your cheeks grow hotter, but you didn't back down. "desperate times call for desperate measures," you said with a weak smile. "please, spencer. i don't know what else to do. she'll never let up if i go alone again."

spencer studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. then, with a sigh, he leaned forward. "alright, i'll do it," he said, holding up a hand to stop your relieved rush of words.

you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, but your heart remained in your throat. "really?" you asked.

"really," spencer said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "but only if you promise me one thing."

you nodded eagerly, willing to agree to almost anything at this point. "anything," you said, hope blossoming in your chest.

"you have to tell me everything about your family," spencer said, his smile growing slightly. "i want to be prepared."

you nodded, a wave of gratitude washing over you. "i will," you promised, "i'll fill you in on the drive."

spencer's smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. "deal," he said, standing up and extending his hand to shake on it. you took his hand, feeling a jolt of excitement run up your arm. "thursday it is,"

[mintmatcha]

tw: implied abuse, no curses au

"Can I ask a question?" Yuuji digs his heel into the wood chips as he swings, digging a growing trench behind him. "You don't have to answer."

Ash falls from the end of Choso's cigarette. He leans against the anchor of the swing set, cheek against cold metal, and sighs. Twilight has passed and the streetlights have turned on, giving the playground a hazy, barely lit glow. Yuuji's guardian will start calling soon, but Choso decides the extra time together is worth the future ire.

"I already told you that I'm not giving you a tattoo."

"Aw, damn-" Yuuji clicks his tongue against his teeth. Ever since they met, he's been dying for a tattoo of his own, throwing out wild new ideas almost every day. One day, when he's eighteen and likes an idea for more than a month, Choso will bring him to his studio and comply.

But, not yet.

"That wasn't my question though," Yuuji says.

"Then go for it."

The younger boy takes a deep breath, then lets it out even slower, pulling the tension longer and longer until it snaps.

"Why weren't you... around? Like, when I was a kid and stuff."

Choso takes his own breath.

"Your mom-- our mom." The taste of that sits bitter on his tongue. He never called her mom, even back then. "She was different for me."

And for our other brothers, he adds silently. Yuuji doesn't need to carry that weight yet, the knowledge that he was the exception to it all.

"Why?" Yuuji pumps his legs a little softer, the back and forth motion of the swing slowly dying out.

"I dunno." Choso wishes he had the answer to that. "She was sixteen, did bad things. Don't worry about it."

Finding out about Yuuji wasn't a shock, somehow. Years after Ken had surrendered her children to the state, Choso had received noticed that she had died. The news felt overdue. No tears were shed, no love lost; the group chat of siblings had all agreed not to go to any service, but the day of, Choso had changed his mind.

He had put on his nicest outfit -some thrift store pants that didn't fit and a shirt he stole from foster dad three- and went expecting to be the only one there, the only one willing to say goodbye.

Choso hadn't known about her new family. They hadn't known about him either. It was typical of Ken to leave a mess in her wake.

Turns out, through a series of lucky breaks, the woman had clawed her way out of poverty and into the arms of a rich, but nice man. Her life was easy and sweet, filled with luxuries and love, including a son ten years younger than her eldest.

No one knows why Yuuji was different than the others, why she decided to be good to him and no one else. Mental illness is strange like that, picking and choosing how it pleases.

Yuuji huffs, gripping the metal chains tighter. "But-"

"Yuuji." Choso drops his cigarette and crushes it under his boot. Then, he thinks about the child that will play there tomorrow, shoveling wood chips into their mouths like idiots, and decides to pick it up. He jams it into his pocket. "You have good memories of her. Don't ruin that."

He used to resent how much Yuuji loved her. He was eight when she died, the same age Choso was when he first had to dial 911 for her. That anger had long faded, replaced with a strange amount of pity.

"But I want to know. What she did and stuff." Yuuji's voice jumps high with emotion. "I'm basically an adult, I can handle it."

"You're sixteen."

"Well, mom was doing this stuff at sixteen, so-" Yuuji is seething suddenly, brow furrowed and teeth grit.

"So?"

"So, she was old enough to be doing bad things and I'm not old enough to know about it?" He stands and the swing clatters behind him. He's stocky, yet tall, bunched with muscles that he's built from baseball. On one side of his cheek, there's a bit of chocolate stuck there, a remnant from the ice cream Choso bought him. Below it, there's a rosy hickey on his neck, a remnant of the boyfriend he hasn't told Nanami about yet. He thinks they're having sex, maybe, but doesn't know how to broach the topic without scaring his brother into never talking about it again.

"And you had tattoos at my age, by the way!"

Choso lets him stew in it, huffing and puffing. The blown out edges of first tattoo peek from under his sleeve, the image barely legible now. An older woman gave it to him at fifteen, in the basement of her house. It became so insanely infected that he ended up in the ER a couple days later.

"I'm not a kid. I can handle it." Yuuji states, calm and clear. "I'm not a kid."

A car passes, it's headlights stretching and pulling the shadows across the park. In the changes, Choso can see his mother in his brother, those soft eyes and thin lips and the same slightly crooked nose that Choso has himself. He thinks, maybe, if time was kinder and his father was better, they'd look more alike each other, but then the moment is gone and they no longer even look like siblings.

"Okay."

Yuuji untenses a bit. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Like, okay, this conversation is done, or okay, I'll tell you?"

"I'll tell you," Choso says, jamming his hands in his pocket. The cigarette butt is there, mushed and still warm against his knuckles. "But not tonight."

"What?!"

"Next time, I promise."

Choso doesn't understand why Yuuji insists on rushing away from innocence, but he knows that he can't stop him. Yuuji will find out about the abuse, the neglect, the other brothers, and the other horrors in some way or another and then things will never be the same.

"Stay a kid just a little longer." Choso resists the urge to ruffle his hair. "For me?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuji sighs. "One more day."