#I'm picking up everything he's putting down

[sunnypopoki]

— 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ; P.2

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

Р.1 / Р.3

The bed was cold whenever you woke up. Your fingers slid across the crisp sheets, feeling for Kieran's warmth even though you already knew he wasn't there. A headache pounded against your temples. Your cheeks were stiff with dried tears. The air was cold and you already wanted to roll back over and go back to sleep, hating the chill in the room.

You didn't feel as distraught as last night. Maybe it was the solid eight hours of sleep, but your brain was fuzzy and lacking. A groan tore through your lips as you stumbled out of bed and wiped at your eyes.

The floorboards were cold and you wondered if Kieran accidentally turned off the heat. You shivered and ran your hands down your arms.

The house was still. Even the dust in the air seemed to move in slow motion, barely drifting through the rays of sunlight that poured through the open windows. You shuffled down the hallway and glanced at the living room. Undisturbed, neat, stale. You almost forgot that you sat there with Kieran last night before he got his phone call. A nasty taste formed under your tongue, lips pursing into a thin line.

If only there was a switch you were able to turn off in your brain. It was the morning and you were already regretting waking up to get breakfast. You rubbed at your eyes and paused at the kitchen doorway and the cold tiled flooring bit at your bare feet.

The clock ticked, telling you it was 4:00 PM. You woke up late again.

A single message was laid on the counter on a pink posted note. You picked it up and noticed Kieran's handwriting that was scribbled down in a rush. Next to it was a small doodle of him holding a heart. It read;

Good morning my кошечка! I'm writing this before leaving for work, but I made you some breakfast and put it in the fridge. Strawberry pancakes and the syrup, if you want any, are in the pantry on the top shelf. I will be back around 5 this evening, remember to eat lunch. I will eat dinner with you tonight. I love you.

You were grateful for any food that he made you. Hell, you were grateful that he even thought of you in the first place to make you food whenever he didn't have to... But you'd rather have his presence instead of some warmed-up pancakes. You crumpled up the posted note and tossed it away. You were hungry but you didn't want to eat, you didn't have the energy or motivation to chew and swallow, much less sit down at the table.

Leaning against the counter, you ran your hands down your face. There were so many things you didn't want to do. You didn't want to brush your teeth, take a shower, or put on a fresh pair of clothes. You didn't want to sleep and you didn't want to be awake either.

The only thing you could think of was Kieran, yet you couldn't shake him off.

The pancakes were left untouched. It was just another meal in the fridge that was waiting to go bad. You couldn't promise that you were going to eat them later whenever you didn't even want to look at them. Kieran would ask later, 'What's wrong? you didn't eat the pancakes I left for you' and you would have to say another lie. It was just your stomach, or you didn't see the note until after you ate something else, or you weren't in the mood for pancakes.

It took everything in your power just to force yourself to go to the bathroom. Even then, he stayed on your mind as you splashed your face with cold water. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you frowned at the dark circles and reluctantly brushed your teeth. A pimple was right above your right brow. God, you didn't want to catch glimpses of yourself either, much less stare into the mirror.

What can I do to make the rest of this day productive?

You hadn't a clue. This only left you waltzing around the house, dabbling in some things, but getting up again whenever you got bored. You couldn't keep still no matter what you tried to do. By six, your mood was bitter, annoyed at your lack of interest in anything and annoyed at why you were feeling so depressed.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, your eyes snapped to the closed door on the right. That was Kieren's at-home office. He rarely ever used it and it was mostly used as a place for him to store things from his rented out big office or important documents. You were aware that all your birth certificates and SSN cards were locked up in a safe in there. But what else? The last time you went in there was like two months ago, but he usually went in there weekly, even if it was just to grab something.

What if he is hiding something?

Reaching out to the handle, you hesitated. However, that lasted only a short time because curiosity got the best of you. You turned the handle and peeked inside.

His home office was small and cramped, which was why he rented out a room in a small building in the city to have his own office for editing and focusing on work. The walls were lined with books and files, and a small desk was cluttered with papers of all kinds. He needed to clean it out. However, you felt grateful that he hadn't already.

A small look around wouldn't hurt anyone, right? Guilt was already threatening to turn you around and march you back to your room, to put yourself in time-out, but you needed to know if something was going on with him. Your hands fiddled with the handle of the door before you stepped into the room and closed it behind you. A small peak. That's all you wanted. It wasn't like you were going to turn the room upside down to look for things against him.

The inside wasn't dusty and you noticed recent documents on his desk. It was good that he didn't desert the small room entirely for his bigger office. You shuffled to sit on the chair and drummed your fingers against the wood.

Where to start?

You didn't know what you were looking for. Something to give you peace of mind that didn't include talking to Kieran about it. If he was cheating, he wasn't going to outright tell you about it. You weren't sure where he'd hide things if he didn't want them to be found. He had his phone on him and that wasn't something you felt comfortable snooping in, but his laptop had everything about his work.

You hesitantly pulled his laptop closer and opened it. A small peak. It wouldn't do anything. It wasn't like you were going to shame if you found anything raunchy. Sure... it was something he probably should talk to you about, but you didn't blame him, since you weren't exactly someone who was giving him fun nights even if the two of you were married.

Maybe he has gotten bored of me because I haven't had sex with him yet, you thought. It's not that I don't find him attractive it's just...

The idea of intimacy like that scared you. All the possibilities of what could go wrong, what would hurt, and what would be uncomfortable.

Kieran always said he understood and that it didn't bother him that the tow is you weren't intimate in bed. But maybe that was a lie. Maybe he found pleasure in stuff on the internet or some woman he kept seeing. You'd be fine living a life with him even if it meant no intimate pleasures at all, but maybe he didn't think the same way you did. He probably had a lot of pent-up stress and desires, so was it your fault for not doing it with him? Right?

Was he going to leave you for someone else because of that?

Your hands were shaking as the screen turned on. His password was his old childhood cat's name: Sonya. At least he didn't bother to change the password into something you didn't know, that was a good sign, right? You swallowed the lump in your throat and tapped at the keyboard. Ding. You were in.

There were a lot of random things on his desktop. You noticed the editor and graphic design apps, such as Microsoft and Blender, and a few games that you haven't played before in your life.  You tapped at the desk absentmindedly and debated with yourself, wondering if you should just go and watch TV, but an app caught your eye.

M?

You noticed the icon at the bottom of the screen with the letter M. It wasn't a familiar-looking app, nothing you've downloaded onto your laptop before, and it was suspicious. The design wasn't good at all. You chewed on your bottom lip and dragged the cursor over to open it. This app would be the only thing you'd look at. Not his search history or anything—no. You'd have to give him some privacy.

That didn't change the fact that it was hard giving him privacy—not whenever his privacy was the whole reason you were suspicious of him in the first place.

The one thing you wanted to know was where he was going with his business trips. As an editor, you knew that he could have a business trip. Sometimes he met up with clients, however, lately, it's been very frequent. You were jealous of it. If it was someone he was meeting, even for work, why were they more important than his wife? he didn't need to go to work that often, right?

The app opened up and you blinked at the messages that were waiting there. All empty chats with numbers as names, except one. It was named 'Sam' and you noticed a couple of messages within the chat. Maybe a client? Or was it someone he was cheating on you with? Your mouth ran dry.

Okay, maybe you shouldn't be looking at his stuff. Just because you were suspicious, shouldn't you wait until you see him in the act of cheating instead of snooping? This wasn't right. It was a shady app, but maybe this was a client that he wasn't supposed to tell you about. As an editor, he wasn't allowed to share the works he was helping writers with, which went against his agreement.

"I shouldn't be looking at this..."

Yes, you shouldn't, but you needed to know. Why was he always leaving late at night and going on long business trips? Why was he always late whenever the two of you went on dates? Why was he always getting calls? Why did he never stay long enough to sleep in your shared bed? It didn't even feel like his bed anymore...

"Just one peek and that's it," you whispered, "please, don't let me find anything."

You opened the chat and gnawed on your bottom lip. There were only a couple of messages, all of them sporadic at what time they were sent. You paused, freezing when your eyes were glued to a specific set of messages.

Sam -- 3:25 AM

Come see me.

Kieran -- 3:27 AM

Make it quick.

Your hands froze above the keyboard. If you had to be honest, you weren't sure what you were looking at. That was about two weeks ago. What was he doing two weeks ago? Your brain wracked to remember what he did that week and how many times he left the house, but it was a blur. Every week was the same in the long run. You glanced down at the most recent message. It was from Sam.

Sam -- 10:00 AM

Where the hell are you at? Respond to this when you see it. You told me you'd see me today.

Your muscles collapsed. Falling back into the seat, you stared at the screen dumbly, lungs gathering in as much air as they could before you stopped breathing entirely. Everything was cold; your bones, muscles, and blood.

Sam was a unisex name. For all you knew, this was the woman he could be cheating on you with. The messages were distrustful enough. The one from two weeks ago was at three in the morning and this Sam person was asking to meet him? He agreed, so even if you didn't remember that week perfectly, it wouldn't have surprised you to know he went somewhere at three in the morning. Just last night, he left at an odd time and has yet to come back.

Is he with her now?

The thought was crushing. You could imagine it at the forefront of your mind; you saw him panting, grinding his hips into some woman you didn't know, moaning her name like some sort of mantra. His hands would be all over her body and her palms would graze down his inked skin, tracing the very same lines that you have. He would hold her hands, he would kiss her lips, and move his hips like a starved beast.

Tears rolled down your cheeks.

No.

No, no, no.

None of this was real. You were just jumping to conclusions again, you didn't know that this person was a woman, and even if it was—him going to meet her at 3 in the morning wasn't cheating, right? That didn't guarantee that he was having sex with her, dating her, kissing her.

Your nails carved crescents into your palms.

You were angry. You didn't quite get it, but all the hurt you felt manifested like a hot steel rod through your heart. Short breaths escaped your lips and a choking sob followed. You didn't want to cry, you were tired of crying, but that didn't stop your heart from collapsing and burning all over again. So you punched, you punched at your knees and thighs until you knew bruises would form later, and you didn't stop.

"Damn it!" you wheezed, fist slamming down on his desk so hard that a pile of papers slipped to the floor. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"

He didn't.

He wouldn't.

The chair tipped back whenever you got up. You were dizzy and you blamed it on how fast you were breathing, aggressively wiping at your tears until your eyes turned red and raw. The office door slammed shut behind you as you fumbled to throw on some new clothes and shoes, tossing on a hat to hide your hair. You needed out of the house. Anywhere, yes anywhere! You'd go anywhere that was better than this place.

He wouldn't have done it, right? No, he wouldn't have! You didn't know anything for certain. Yes, you just had to stop jumping to conclusions. In fact, it would be better if you just stopped thinking entirely. Shut your brain off and stop questioning your husband's loyalty, because no way he would cheat on you—

But what if he is? you thought, Sam could be better than me in everything. She could be prettier, smarter, sexier. What if she gives him what he wants with sex? What if he is happy and satisfied with her?

Wouldn't that make you selfish for wanting to keep hanging onto him?

You kicked the pot outside. It shattered when it fell off the porch and you cursed, stomping past it, and going down the street. Your eyes were puffy and red, cheeks blotchy from your stupid waterworks, and you looked messy. You didn't care. You couldn't gather the energy to care. So you walked down to the store that was a couple blocks away at the bottom of the hill, gripping your wallet tightly.

You needed a long walk to calm you down. So you did just that—you walked to the store as slowly as possible, sucking in the cold air, wishing all your foul emotions would melt away like that sloshy snow on the side of the road.

It didn't take long to reach the store. Unluckily for you, you didn't notice the slightly dimming sky. It always got dark early in winter.

The store was welcoming. There was no one inside except two workers who were minding their own business. They flashed you a smile before you scurried to the back of the store, grabbing a pack of your favorite chips and a soda from one of the fridges. You exhaled and glanced at the tempting chocolates near the front. You didn't need them, plus you had a feeling you'd eat them all in one go and make yourself sick, so you refrained from buying them.

Sighing, you walked up to the front and placed your items on the counter. An older lady walked up to the register, the pretty red ribbons styling in her hair catching your eye. They matched the red eyeshadow around her eyes and the red mascara she was wearing.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" the cashier raised a worried eyebrow when she noticed your appearance, glanced around, and then lowered her voice, "Do you need me to call someone for you? Are you in trouble?"

You managed a weak smile. "I'm good, just a rough day."

It took everything in your power to not spill your guts to this lady. Oh, how you wanted to tell someone about what you were going through, what you were thinking, but who would you tell? All your friends were in happy relationships, they wouldn't understand, and couldn't speak to the one man you usually told everything to because it was about him.

The cashier smiled softly, saying, "Oh, I apologize. I heard there have been a lot of kidnappings around here recently, so I wanted to make sure there was no bad person in the store with you. Women need to look out for other women!"

Your chest warmed up at her smile. "Yes, we do. Thank you. I love how your charms and makeup match, it's very pretty."

The cashier bashfully waved her hand and laughed. "Aww thank you! You look like you have a kind heart, so I things get better for you, sweetie. Hopefully, these snacks will make you feel better."

She handed you the bag and you nodded, muttering a 'thank you' and a simple 'I hope you have a good evening' before you turned on your heel and bolted for the exit.

The doors slid open and that warm feeling in your chest faded, pausing to stop and stare at the sky. It got dark quickly. It wasn't fully dark, the sun was just over the horizon, painting orange and pink streaks into the clouds. A bird flew down and perched on a lamppost.

If only you were a bird. They were able to fly anywhere they wanted to go, they didn't have a care in the world, and they didn't have to struggle with whatever mess you were struggling with. You didn't know how you should label what you were going through. You didn't know if your spouse was a cheater, you didn't know if you deserved to be cheated on, and you didn't know why you were dragging it with you.

Just like that, the nice interaction you had was in the back of your mind, and you felt like shit again.

Why can't I just be the type of wife who trusts him?

You always compared yourself to the images of wives you saw on TV and the internet. Smiling, happy, and who had great communication with their spouses—yet here you were, afraid to ask your husband just because you didn't want to face the fact that it might be real. To face the fact you could potentially lose him. You were angry at him too, you didn't want to hear excuses, and you didn't want to look at him.

Yeah, maybe you did deserve to get cheated on, but you were still pissed at him for discarding you if he did. For tossing you out like you were nothing as if he forgot all the years the two of you have been together.

If he cared, you were starting to no longer feel it. That gnawing thought that each time he kissed you, he imagined it was another girl. His touches felt distant at times and you wondered what else he had on his mind to make him so ghostly.

You glanced down at the chips and soda in your bag. So much for trying to eat the pancakes he made later. You didn't have the desire to eat anything he made, you'd end up crying again if you did. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you glanced down, moving the heavy bag around as you struggled to get your phone out.

Speak of the devil, and he shall arrive.

Kieran ❤︎  -- 9:48 PM

Where are you?

Your lip twitched into a frown. From what you saw earlier, you didn't want to talk to him at all. Your mind was still reeling with what message you saw on his laptop, wondering just who Sam was, and why everything was so suspicious. Your face was stiff from the bitter cold and all the dried-up tears you sobbed earlier.

It wasn't fair. He was asking where you were but each time you asked him, he either was vague or said some sort of response that didn't make sense! Your teeth gritted together and you felt tears welling back up. Angry. You were absolutely livid at him. You were livid at yourself. Hell, you wanted to scream at something but you didn't know who deserved to be screamed at.

Was it you because you weren't a good enough wife for him to stay around? Or was it him for not staying around in the first place?

You managed to type back. Even so, no matter how angry you were, or how sad, you always found yourself responding the longer you stared at his name on the top of the screen.

You — 9:49 PM

Store. Walking home now.

You watched the bubble appear. Within seconds, before you had the chance to put your phone away and pretend you never saw his message, he replied.

Kieran ❤︎ — 9:50 PM

Stay put and don't leave the store. I'm coming to pick you up. It's not safe for you to be walking out when it is getting dark ❤

You wanted to throw your phone. You stomped your foot and shoved your phone into your pocket, glaring holes into the cement as you stood out on the sidewalk outside the story.

It wasn't terribly dark yet but it was dark enough that it wasn't safe. That was your fault, you were the idiot for giving into your compulsions and going to the store whenever you wanted to go out of the house. Yes, you should wait for Kieran, no matter how angry you were because it was the responsible thing to do.

But you didn't want to wait. The house was only two blocks away and you knew everyone in the neighborhood. It wasn't like you hadn't walked out to the store before in the dark, so what would happen this time? You had your keys and the can of soda in the bag would be a good weapon to swing at someone.

He never tells me where he's going, you cussed inwardly, so he can just suck it up and wait for me to walk home.

Yes, you were being petty.

But who wouldn't be? You just found a very suspicious message on your husband's laptop from someone named 'Sam', and now he wanted you to wait for him to come and pick you up. You were hurt. You were angry. You were confused. You didn't want to see his face but at the same time, all you wanted to do was to snap at him for him to explain everything.

It had to be your fault, right? Why else wouldn't he want to spend time with you if it wasn't your fault?

You let your emotions get the best of you, storming down the side of the street as you ventured farther and farther away from the sanctuary of the store. Street lamps flickered as you walked up the hill with your shoes clicking against the sidewalk. There was no sign of the car he was in.

The thought of sitting down on the concrete and letting your heart out was tempting. There was no one around and you were getting tired of the same bleak, lonely expanse of your home. The sidewalk looked more welcoming than the bed at home you could cry on. You stopped dead in your tracks and sighed, tears welling up. 

You didn't even realize you were sinking to your knees before you were already sitting on the sidewalk. You weren't sobbing, no wailing, but single tears that rolled quietly down.

So many people would say so many things if they saw you like this. Maybe they'd call you dramatic, maybe they were right, but everything felt so suffocating. You felt trapped. You didn't want to go home but you wanted to be home, you wanted Kieran to hold you but you also didn't want to see him. It was all so complex.

Maybe everyone would call you cowardly and pathetic. God, you already knew that. You were crying on the sidewalk instead of going up to him and asking him—but what if he said an answer you didn't want to hear? What if he admitted to cheating? What if he said he didn't love you anymore? The fear of rejection was the one reason you kept your mouth shut... the fear of losing him.

If you lost him, you didn't think you could fall in love again.

You don't think you would want to.

All you wanted was to have the love of your life back; his smiles, his hugs, him holding you to sleep. You wanted the man you saw at your wedding—when he looked at you as if you were the only person to exist. But now maybe that wasn't true. Maybe you were just a woman he didn't want to be around anymore. Maybe you were dragging him down and he was just waiting for the perfect time to tell you.

God, I'm so scared, you thought. What if I'm right? What if it isn't all in my head?

Your phone buzzed. No. You wanted to ignore him, you wanted to stay here, you wanted to cry until all that was left was a numb destroyed path.

The last time you had a good unashamed cry, you couldn't remember. It was always muffled because Kieran was around or you were in your car, but now no one was around, but now you were too tired to sob like you wanted to. Crying made you feel like a crybaby, like some bitch who couldn't keep it together, even though you had every reason to shed a couple tears.

You were angry at yourself for going behind his back to snoop through his laptop because you were too scared to have an adult conversation with him, you were angry at him for always leaving you alone and confused, and you were angry that this situation was even happening.

God, you felt so repetitive. Yeah, you were angry and sad, maybe you should just stop whining and dwelling on it. How easy everything would be if you could.

"Hey girly, you okay?"

You froze. For a split second, you thought it was Kieran, but it was two men when you looked up. Two white men, one with a buzz cut and the other had a short perm, tattoos covering their arms. Cigarettes hung from their fingertips. Maybe it was because you were used to how Kieran looked, but you didn't immediately assume they were 'bad guys' because of how they looked.

You wiped your tears away and sniffled, "Uhm, shit, yes I'm okay."

The man with the buzz cut raised an eyebrow. A shiver shot down your spine whenever he smiled. Okay, maybe he was a bad guy because something about this felt wrong.

"Why is a cute thing like you cryin' in a place like this?" he asked, then glanced at his friend, "a poor girly like this shouldn't be cryin' out on the street, don'cha agree?"

The other man nodded, "Yeah. Where are ya' going?"

Sweat trickled down your back. You stumbled up from the ground, backing away from them, gripping your bag just in case you had to swing it. You cleared your throat and did your best to sound firm, "I'm heading home, so if you'll excuse me..."

The men smiled like preying hyenas. "Oh, we can walk you home--"

"(Y/N), thank god!"

Your head snapped to the side when Kieran shouted. There he was, rushing towards you in a jog, stopping to catch his breath. Why wasn't he in the car? He looked distraught. His hair was a wild mess, sweat on his brow, panic in his eyes that fell into relief whenever he saw you. He didn't give you a chance to speak before he grabbed your shoulders, yanked you into him, and crushed you in a hug.

"Why the hell did you not answer any of my calls? You didn't text me back either, fuck, I thought something happened to you! I told you I was going to pick you up!"

You were stunned. He pulled back and cupped your face, noticing your tear-stained cheeks. He looked like he just got sucker punched in the gut.

"Why are you crying, Котик? Did something happen?"

Oh, how it looked in his eyes. He probably assumed the worst happened to you whenever you weren't at the store and all his calls and messages were ignored. You couldn't blame him for being panicked. Guilt stabbed you through the heart; you just scared him to death just because you were angry and sad over a questionable situation. It was an immature reaction based on an assumption and now he was the one dealing with the aftermath.

Suddenly, you felt like the worst piece of shit in the world.

However, anything you wanted to say was stolen from your lips whenever Kieran looked up. The two men who tried talking to you stared back with unimpressed, raised eyebrows. Kieran's eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?"

The man with the buzz cut grinned. "Oh, well we saw this girly sitting on the sidewalk so—"

"I asked who you are?" Kieran deadpanned, "that means your name."

Both the men shuffled on their feet. The man with the shaggy hair spoke, glaring, "What do you want our names for? It doesn't matter."

Kieran pursed his lips. Whatever he was thinking, you couldn't read it, and you could tell they couldn't either by the way they started to glance at each other. He sighed and his fingers fumbled with the edge of your shirt. He glanced down at you, giving you whiplash with how soft he looked at you.

"Did these men hurt you? What happened?"

"Hey! We already said--"

Kieran's voice dropped and he glanced at them, his glare cold enough to send a chill through hell, "I didn't fucking ask you, so keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open."

You didn't try to speak, you just shook your head and gripped his arm tighter. Kieran snapped his head back up to glare at them and they squirmed. He analyzed them for a bit, letting them get increasingly nervous by the second.

"Now that I look at you, you seem familiar. Elliot? Elliot Smith?"

The man with the buzz cut, Elliot, froze.

"I heard about you. I have a friend who works in the police, he told me about you. Weren't you charged with sexual harassment three months ago?" Kieran stared, his expression cold, "There have been some rumors recently that you've been trying to get into gang activity as well."

Elliot's face turned red as if all the air supply was cut off to his face. He looked like a plum when his cheeks grew from red to purple, his eyes shifting through different emotions to gauge what to say next. You blinked. He was charged with sexual harassment? How did Kieran know about something like that? When did he get a friend who was a cop?

Is the cop Sam?

Kieran wasn't a man who watched the news that often, so you doubted he was lying about where he got the information. You shuffled on your feet and his hand held you tighter. Damn it. You really threw "stranger danger" out the window just because you were pissed and wanted to spite your husband by walking home instead of waiting for him.

Elliot stumbled forward and started to stammer out his words. Kieran didn't step back, but you didn't miss the way his muscles tensed up like a wild cat about to lunge forward. He started to drum his fingers against your arm—you weren't sure if he was trying to comfort you or distract you.

"I am not in the mafia, Russian bastard!"

Kieran raised an eyebrow. He ignored the obvious attack on his ethnicity, not caring that he was called a Russian bastard. He tilted his head, "the mafia?"

"Yeah! You're accusing me of working with the mafia just because of some still rumors you heard from a cop. Those rumors aren't--"

"Ah, no," he smiled humorlessly, "I imagine they aren't interested in уличные дворняги. Plus I said gang activity, as in little boys running around with baseball bats and pockets filled with drugs."

Elliot's buddy jumped forward to save his friend's skin. His glare didn't match Kieran's, it was weak and anxious. His hand was shaking and he pointed a hand at you. You feared what bullshit he was going to come up with and you didn't get a chance to interrupt before he spouted it.

"You should give us to her, man. If you go around accusing people of crimes, you probably do shit yourself, like abusing her. I bet you're the one who made her cry. Her eyes are puffy, she looked fuckin' defeated when we saw her. So hand her over before we call the cops."

Time stopped.

Kieran sucked in a breath.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm saying that you probably abuse her or something! If you don't leave her with us, man, we will call the cops on you!"

Kieran's face shifted into something darker. Much darker. That sweet and worried expression he had for you molded into something malicious. The last time you saw a look like that was whenever some kid in your freshman year of high school insulted you. That same kid got two of his teeth knocked out that same day. Kieran never told you he did it, he acted like he didn't know, but you remembered vividly how he tried to hide the blood caked under his nails back then.

You never thought something like this would happen. Sure, they haven't harrassed you, but accusing Kieran of abuse whenever he hasn't done anything wrong made your chest bubble up. You were the one who screwed up and got all of you in this situation, not him.

"Hey, he's not—"

Kieran squeezed your shoulder. You saw the way he glanced down at you, subtly shaking his head, telling you to leave it to him. You weren't sure what he was thinking anymore or what he was doing—all you wanted was to go home. It was you who put everything in this situation because of an emotional mistake, so you should be the one to suck up your responsibility and leave the situation.

"leave her with you?"

Elliot spoke up. "The poor girly was crying and now some tattooed, large bastard like you comes up! You think the police would believe—"

"And they'll believe someone who was recently released from prison for sexual harassment?"

Elliot clamped his mouth shut. His eyes snapped to you, narrowing into daggers, and sweat built on your brow. He pointed an angry finger at you.

"Well isn't it her fucking fault for walking out whenever it's dark? She doesn't have brains if she thinks that someone looking like her would be able to go home without getting hit on! It's normal for good-looking women."

Oh, if looks could kill, you were sure that those two men would have dropped dead. Elliot paled when he noticed how Kieran was glaring at him. He was on the edge, two seconds away from grabbing that hand and seeing how many times he could bend his finger until it snapped off.

It was scary. You'd be lying if you said that you weren't scared of an expression like that, because you had a feeling that the only reason he wasn't violent was because you were there.

Just like when the two of you were younger.

"...Kieran, why—why don't we go home? Okay?" you stammered, "We don't need to waste our time here. We wanted to have dinner together, remember?"

Kieran's lip twitched and his green eyes shifted down to you. They were sharp and calculating, his arm wrapped around you like a coiled spring.

"Let's just go home," you whispered. Please.

By the look of Elliot's face, he was hoping the two of you would leave too, scurrying back closer to his friend who had been quiet throughout the entire ordeal. You didn't blame him. He looked just as grey and sickly as the cement beneath their feet.

Kieran's jaw was clenched. He stared at you as if he was debating all the options he had. You knew him, he didn't like being violent in front of you and always lied in the past about where he was. You weren't naive. You were very much aware that he was violent and you knew that he hated that you knew. To him, he just wanted you to view him as a dazzling husband.

Which he was—just dangerous too.

The two men didn't dare act cocky whenever he finally turned to leave with you. His hand grasped yours and he dragged you back down to the store, not looking back, as if he feared he might actually break their fingers off if he looked at their faces again.

You had a hard time keeping up with his long strides. His head was in the clouds so he didn't bother to slow down, gritting his teeth as he barely managed to make it to the parking lot without turning back.

Kieran sometimes had to use self-restraint when it came down to hurting others. Sometimes, you said, because it wasn't every day that he listened to it. You stumbled behind him.

"Slow down a bit! My legs—my legs aren't as long as yours!"

It was a miracle he actually heard you. Like a dog hearing a special command, he stopped dead in his tracks and you almost rammed your nose into his back. You inhaled sharply and let the burning of your legs rest a bit. He was basically jogging! You barely had enough courage to meet his eye whenever you noticed the familiar sensation of his gaze boring into your head.

His green eyes were dark.

Oh.

He was angry at you.

The silence was loud even though there was the distant sound of cars honking, the wind between houses, and some cat in an alleyway. You didn't know what to say. You wanted to apologize to him, for making him worry and putting yourself in a dangerous situation because of an emotional decision, but nothing would leave your lips. You opened your mouth, closed it, opened it again, closed it again. You must have looked like a gaping fish out of water.

He had every right to be angry at you. You were aware that you tended to blame yourself in situations where you weren't involved, but you knew that you messed up.

Guilt twisted your gut up into one big knot. You didn't know what to do or say to untangle it, much less make it to where Kieran wasn't staring at you in the way that he was. Angry, confused, questioning why the hell you didn't just wait for him—and you felt guilty because you knew you couldn't just tell him why.

"I..."

He wasn't speaking. Was he waiting for you to give him something to work with? Even if it was some shitty lie or bad excuse? Your hand let go of his and started to fuddle at the hem of your shirt.

"...I'm sorry, I know I—I messed up. I, uhm, I made a bad decision—"

Kieran took a deep breath. How odd that such a small action caused every word you planned to speak to collapse, cutting your apology short. You couldn't look him in the eye. Dangerous thoughts started to swirl around in your head like poison; was he disappointed in you? Was dumb mistakes like this the reason he never stayed around you? Maybe he viewed you as a child who couldn't make reasonable decisions? Were you being emotional? Maybe he wasn't mad at you and you were assuming things?

You wished you had the courage to ask him all those questions. You wished you had the bravery to listen to the answers without crying. But you didn't, so you kept your mouth shut.

Kieran shuffled on his feet and placed a hand under your chin, lifting your head.

"Look at me."

His green eyes weren't as dark as before. He wasn't happy, yeah, but he looked as if he was trying to be gentle and understanding. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Thank you for apologizing," he murmured sincerely and he took a deep breath,  hanging his head, "I'm also sorry that men like that decided to target you. You were probably so scared and me acting like... me probably wasn't helping, was it?"

"Well, you—you were with me so I wasn't scared. I was more just... nervous I guess. I don't know, I went off on my own because I was emotional, I'm sorry—"

His eyebrows creased and his hands cupped your face. He was so tender with how his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and he leaned in close, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. He melted at the touch of your skin, fluidly stepping forward and leaning in as close as possible. He drank in your presence, your warmth, the smell of your hair, and the rising and falling off your shoulders.

"Let's... let's talk about this at home, okay? I'm not mad, I just..." he trailed off and his eyes darkened, "I was scared something happened to you. When I couldn't find you at the store, when you weren't responding to my calls or texts, and when I saw those fucking свиньи with you—"

He cut himself off. He closed his eyes and took a couple of breaths.

"We're going home. Come on."

You yelped whenever his hands curved under your knees and he picked you up, carrying you like you were some damsel in distress. Any questions, excuses, or complaints you wanted to say dissipated when you saw that distant look on his face. Just like you've seen before, he looked ghostly, like he saw something you couldn't see. Just where was his head at?

You looked away. Anger buzzed in your bones, guilt was drowning your heart, and you too had a fuzzy feeling inside your head that made you feel distant.

I shouldn't have left the house.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

LINKS :

— 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳

— 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥

— 𝘘𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘷

[ P.3 ]

[mitsiepitsie]

I went ahead and ran with this. Just a small little blurb, unproofed and everything, but enjoy anyways.

Father's day

When she comes into the world, sticky and red and screaming her indignation, Sylus knows he has never known love before. He'd thought he knew, the moment when you'd stared at him one lazy afternoon, eyes suddenly brimming with tears, and he realized you'd remembered. He'd thought he knew, then, when he breathed his last, and your - the other you - tears fell unbidden, showering his cheeks with grief.

But now, as years of love fell from your exhausted eyes as you looked at him holding your newborn daughter, and he stared down at the bundle in his arms, still screaming at the top of her lungs, only now does he feel he truly knows.

And, instantly, he also truly knows fear. Inwardly frantic but outwardly composed - or so he thinks- he carefully pushes at the the tiny hat they put on her up and off, the pads of his fingers ghosting over the soft skull. He breathes a sigh of relief as he finds nothing but the still sticky, downy hair, and quickly pulls the hat in place again.

—---------------------------------------------

Quietly humming, you sit on the edge of the pink little bed, littered with all the plushies the both of you have ever won, the tiny body of your two year old in your lap as you sit brushing her silver hair, already falling to her shoulders. You notice his shadow as he leans against the doorframe, gazing at his world before him.

Your daughter suddenly cries out in pain as you pass the brush over the top of her head, and Sylus nearly bowls you over in his haste to inspect the source of her discomfort. He coos at the little girl in your lap, consoling her as his fingers card gently through her silvery locks, probing her scalp. You look on, amused at his reaction.

“It's just a tangle,” you say, bemused, as you pick up the brush again, apologizing to your daughter for pulling at said tangle.

“It would appear so,” he says, the tone of his voice hard to read despite your years together.

—---------------------------------------------------

“I swear, all she lacks is a pair of horns,” you exclaim in exasperation one day, as you're venting about her toddler antics while he cooks up one of your favorite dishes.

The pan clatters to the ground, oil splattering the cabinets as Sylus whips towards you, a look in his eyes that you haven’t been at the receiving end of since your first meeting.

“What did you say?” he growls at you, and it's as if the light flees from his presence as he rounds the kitchen island, towering over you, eyes glowing.

You retreat against a wall, shocked by his sudden enmity. “It's just an expression,” you growl back, fighting to overcome your flight response.

He snaps out of it just as suddenly. “I'm sorry, kitten,” he murmurs in your ear as he draws your rigid form into his arms, “I don't know what came over me.”

He makes it up to you, with dinner and at night, but his burning eyes linger in the back of your mind.

—-------------------------------------------------------

It takes a few instances like that for you to catch on. Every bump on your girl's head is rigorously inspected, and your little thunderstorm gets more than her fair share. You assure yourself she gets that wildness from him.

Then, one day, you hear Kieran call her “a little fiend”, and all hell breaks loose. It takes Luke and your unified strength to pry Sylus off Kieran, who flees the scene as soon as his boss's hands leave his throat.

You send Luke off with your girl, telling them to go watch TV or something as you confront your husband.

“Care to fill me in?” you ask icily, glaring down at him on his spot on the couch.

He glares right back up you as you stand in front of him. “He has no right to call her that,” he all but snarls.

“What, a fie- oh…Oh.” It clicks.

The worried looks, frantic searches for some non-existent bumps. The explosions at the simplest, most innocent comments.

You straddle his legs and take his face in your hands. “She's not you, Sylus,” you say gently, “Though she tries her damnedest.”

His head rolls back onto the couch as he covers his eyes with one of his strong arms. “I know,” he rasps, a fragility in his voice that you have only seldom heard, “but, what if-”

“Then we will figure it out,” you murmur as you gather him to you, “like we've done before.”

—‐----------------------------------------------------------

The years go by, and Sylus manages to somewhat lessen the intensity of his reactions to anything horn related. Or curse related. Or fiend, or dragon, or…He tries, in any case, you think, as you carry a tray laden with breakfast up to your bedroom, your daughter scampering up the stairs in front of you, excited for Father's Day and the gift she crafted at school.

You smile from the doorway as she jumps onto the bed where Sylus is pretending to be asleep, exaggerated snoring coming from the heap of covers and cushions. Squeals soon replace the snoring as he reaches out to grab your daughter and drags her under the covers.

“No, no, Daddy!” she cries, indignant, “I must give you your present first, and then you must eat breakfast!”

“Oh?” he rumbles, “Did you make it?”

“I made the present all by myself!” she exclaims as she throws the covers off of them both.

He exclaims in appreciation before his gaze falls on you. “And the breakfast?”

She pouts slightly. “Mommy helped.”

He chuckles at your sigh of exasperation. “And to what do I owe this offering?”

She giggles at his forgetfulness. “It is Father's Day, Daddy!” she says as she pushes the gift into his hands.

He opens the gift, a paper bird with a little picture of his little girl, the writing on one of the wings saying ‘Owl love you forever’. “Why is the owl black?” he asks, as he idly unties the string holding a rolled up drawing together.

“Miss Johnsons made us make an owl, but I wanted a crow,” she pouts, “it's Mephisto, daddy!”

“Of course it is, sweetie,” he says, the chuckle drying in his throat as he unrolls the drawing.

You place the tray on the foot of the bed and walk over to where the both of them are staring at the glitter embellished paper, one proudly, the other aghast. Your question dies on your tongue as you look at the drawing your daughter has made.

On it are three distinct figures, one on the ground and two in the air. Bright red wings sprout from both their backs, black scribbles from their heads, as the figure on the ground waves at them.

“What a lovely picture,” you say as you sit beside them and gently try to pinch Sylus out of his stupor, “will you tell me about it?”

She nods excitedly and starts pointing at the figures. “That's you, Mommy, and this is Daddy with his dragon wings, and that is me!”

“But you don't have wings, honey, and neither does Daddy.”

She exclaims in all the frustration a toddler can muster. “Not right now, but he can magic them back when I grow up and grow mine!”

Sylus trembles, trembles besides you, and you hug your daughter for him, thank her for her wonderful gifts, tell her that Daddy likes them so much that he can't speak right now, but that he will take her out for ice cream later to thank her, and send her off to put on her shoes and wait for him.

You watch as she streaks from the room, silver hair whipping behind her. Sylus softly chuckles beside you, drawing still held reverently in his quivering fingers.

“Leave it to out treasure,” he mutters as you turn to him, his red eyes glossy, “to figure it out for us.”

Imagine Dragon Sylus having a kid and constantly checking to see if they've started growing horns, because he's so scared they'll be cursed like him.

Until one day the kid asks when they'll get horns, and Sylus realizes that his kid doesn't see it as a curse, and wants to be just like their dad when they grow up

[epistolarymoon]

putting nsfw goggles on for a sec but

idk if this is just a trope that was a lot more common in older hockeyrpf fics bc i haven't seen it around as much recently BUT. would like to see a fic about will and mack going out (maybe while in quebec bc no need for fakes lol) and goading each other into picking up girls...

... and there is a girl that's interested in mack at first, but oh, wait, who's that prettyboy friend of yours you were talking to earlier?? and mack's like. utterly dumbfounded and also extremely humiliated bc uh what. [mack voice] am i literally getting turned down for smitty. will is never going to let him live this down. this is terrible.

and the girl tells mack to invite will over and theoretically mack should just cut his losses but for some reason he does. red-faced and kind of cut up about it, he goes across the bar and mumbles something about the girl at will. and will's like ??? what do you mean she wants me. and he's a little smug about it but he can see how mack's ego is all bruised so he's like. all right i can play it chill for now but, u know. a hot girl is a hot girl. and so he follows mack over to the girl, and mack's like. um. here u go. this is smitty. have fun I Guess.

and she's like okay i think you misunderstood baby i want Both Of You. and then it's all like. record scratch. freeze frame. what??????

also bc will is way more dialed, he very clearly realizes that mack's kind of just blue-screened. he knows that mack doesn't have a ton of experience and he doesn't either but he has had a 3some before (ryan leonard haunts the narrative as per). and he turns to the girl and is like "can we have a sec?" and she very graciously gestures for them to go have their little gab sesh.

when they're alone again mack is like "what the fuck dude i'm not having a threesome with you that'd be like. gay" and will is all like. [scoffs] "it's not fucking gay to fuck a girl together lol we won't even touch each others dicks." and mack is all, shrilly, "yeah but it's still fucking weird." and will very smarmily goes "you're just chicken. and also inexperienced. bc it's not even that crazy" which of course makes all higher function in mack's brain go offline now that will's just triggered his insane competitive hindbrain where he has to win at everything, even the stupid shit. and it's all [mack voice] wait you sound like you've done this before.

and will is all false confidence: "yeah duh" except he hasn't touched that memory of him and leno hooking up with a girl with a ten foot pole since it happened. bc then he would have to confront some very uncomfortable thoughts and feelings. and he doesn't want to do that.

now mack's fired up and he's like. "okay fine. i'm down if you're down." and will is all like "okay i'm down."

and they go home with this girl and run a train on her, except. obviously this is a night of realizations. and sometimes it feels like she's not even there, it's just will and mack in the room. at some point while she's otherwise occupied, they make eye contact and mack nearly nuts right then and there. and will can see how far down mack's flush goes. and it's all just. oh noooooo. oh no no no.

[inmyheaddd]

after midnight - percy jackson x reader

summary: percy jackson!boarding school au - its late at night and you're trying to sneak back to your dorm room. everything is going to plan, until percy jackson appears and makes a plan of his own, one that involves him being way closer to you than usual. wc: 2k

the school halls were eerily quiet as you tiptoed down the corridor, your heart pounding in your chest.

you weren't supposed to be out after curfew, but as you were reading, you looked out the window momentarily, and the stars had looked too perfect to resist sneaking up to the roof.

you were passing through the main hall now, and were just trying to get to the staircase which led to the girls dorms upstairs. you warily looked around, then you suddenly froze.

you heard footsteps behind you. just your luck— of course you were about to get caught. you were already beginning to think of excuses to tell the teacher before you turned around to look.

you turned your head slowly, pulse thrumming in your chest.

but it wasn't a teacher. in fact, you probably would've preferred it to be, because now you were face to face with none other than percy jackson.

you realised this was the first time you saw him out of his school uniform. he was wearing dark blue sweatpants, a plain white shirt that seemed to be a tiny bit too small- considering the way the sleeves hugged his biceps, and his hair was even messier than usual.

percy tilted his head at you, a sleepy grin slowly stretching on his face as he realised here you were, breaking the rules.

he called out your name, "lovely seeing you here," he looked down at his arm in a way one would check their watch, except he didn't have a watch. "isn't it past your curfew?

you swallowed thickly, still not fully out of your previous stupor from your fear of being caught. "you didn't see anything. leaving now." you blurted quickly, turning around on your heels. "bye!"

you began speed walking away, but you heard percy mumble, "hold on, not so fast." as he jogged up to you.

he put a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you, and you whipped your head around to face him.

"you know, this is really off brand for you." he tilted his head at you questioningly, his sea green eyes looking dark in the dim light of the hall. "what is it with you and breaking the rules recently?"

"im not breaking any—" you cut yourself off with a huff, because... you technically were breaking rules. "whatever, well you're out too. what are you doing here?"

he held up his left pinky finger simply like it held all the explanations, and it was wrapped with bouts of bandage and had a splinter to keep it straight.

you snorted, "you're kidding."

"nope." he responded, a twinge of bitterness and sass in his voice that made you want to laugh. "i was peacefully, respectfully, might i add, minding my business in my own bed. when my buddy thought it would be funny to sit on my goddamn hand while i slept."

you bit back a smile at the way he was visibly frustrated at the story, huffing and running his other hand through his hair.

you nodded, "wow, that really sucks," you said dryly, gaze flickering from his hand to his face. "i feel so bad for you."

"is that sarcasm? ya know, i don't think my pinky will ever look the same, it was all cooked and bent and bruised." he rose his eyebrows and held up his pinky for added effect. "even the guy who did it winced when the nurse was wrapping it up. believe me, not a pretty sight."

you refrained from laughing at his dead-seriousness. "no, no, i'm being for real. that looks really bad." you said, shaking your head, but the smile you were falling to hold back said otherwise. 

you cleared your throat as you picked up on what he else said. "oh! but, at least your friend took you to the nurse after what he did."

percy frowned. "took me to the nurse?" he repeated, his eyebrows scrunched up. "oh

- no, he's uh," he couldn't even finish his sentence without a low chuckle escaping his lips, "he was there for his own reasons." he ran his good hand over his jaw, humming slightly. "still there, actually.”

your eyebrows raised in shock slightly, suddenly taking real notice of the bruises on his knuckles. you were just about to say something really smart like, 'oh!' when you both suddenly froze, eyes widening as you caught each others gaze.

you both heard footsteps from ahead, and percy didn't say anything as he quickly wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

well he said one single word: "limp."

the proximity made you stumble over your words; you had ever even physical contact with the guy before, and now his whole arm was around you and urging you to lean your weight on him.

"what the?" you spluttered, and the fact that he smelled really good did not help your predicament.

if whoevers footsteps you were hearing belonged to a teacher, surely percy's arm around you would not help you get out of trouble. 

a girl and a guy all huddled together after curfew? thats like asking for a lifetime of detentions— as if percy didn't have enough detentions. you, on the other hand, never had any. you weren't about to let him ruin that for you.

"percy, i know how to handle-" you began to whisper-shout at him, only to cut yourself off as the footsteps got increasingly and dangerously closer.

now you had no choice, pushing him off would look equally suspicious.

you started limping.

you hoped whatever crazy plan he had pushed you two in was going to work, because what came into view was your principal.

she must've been doing the dorm checks, because she didn't look all that shocked to see the two of you in the hallway, almost as if she was specifically looking for someone to get into trouble.

your principal stopped in her tracks, posture as straight as ever and still in her work clothes, as if it wasn't 12 at night. "percy jackson," she chided, her tone sour. "past curfew, again. what's new?"

you both continued walking, well, percy helping you walk as you fake limped towards her, slightly hunched over like you were really struggling.

she didn't say anything to you, but you noticed the slight raise of her brow as she took in the way percy's arm was around you.

you heard percy take a deep, almost shuddering breath beside you, and it occurred to you he might've been nervous too- because of the teachers presence, of course.

"well, actually, mrs edwards, both of us happened to be at the nurse," he help up his other hand with his injured pinky. you watched him resist a smile then clear his throat, "and, uh, as you can see, she injured her leg. the nurse asked me to help walk her to her dorm."

mrs edwards hummed with her eyebrows furrowed slightly, looking like she considering the story, then she raised a questioning brow at you. "is this true?"

percy was covering for you? why didn’t he just let you get in trouble? wasn’t that his motive 24/7?

it was moments like these that made you question everything you thought you knew about percy jackson.

you brought yourself out of your thoughts as you nodded quickly, "yeah, unfortunately." you said with a light, hopefully convincing and natural laugh.

"you know how competitive sports gets sometimes, there's always an injury." you glanced at percy next to you, and he was already looking at you, his gaze completely focused on just you and a strange glint in his eye and a smile like he was amazed . he looked away the second you caught his eyes though.

"very well, i see." she managed a small smile at you, but it faded just as quick as it came when she looked at percy. "nevertheless, you need to get to your dorms. it is far too late." she looked both you and percy up and down. "and," she regarded you, "i hope your leg recovers soon."

"thanks mrs edwards," you managed a smile, ignoring the way you couldn't tell if your heart was beating this fast because of percy's arm around you, or almost getting into trouble. "goodnight."

you slightly nudged percy with your elbow, still awkwardly smiling at your principal.

"ow!" he quickly cleared his throat, "i mean, uh, goodnight, mrs edwards."

your principal sighed, shaking her head slightly as if she was thinking, what on earth do i do with this kid? before she finally said, "goodnight, you two."

she then walked off in the direction you two came, the click-clacking of her shoes fading off behind you as she went.

you exhaled a deep breath you hadn't realised that you were holding, you actually got away with it. you heard that the last time a group of friends were caught past curfew, they had to spend their break time cleaning up the PE changing rooms. for a month. 

that moment of relief was short lived, because you heard percy groan petulantly from beside you. "man, what about my finger?" he complained, "you had a fake injury!"

you let a giggle fall past your lips. you didn't know why, but in this moment you didn't hate percy so much. maybe it was that without all the people around, the rude teachers, gossipy students, stress surrounding academics, everything just felt easier and lighter in this quiet moment with him here.

it almost felt like talking to a friend, which was something you'd never say outloud, because, well, he annoyed you and you hated it. that was your thing: it wasn't helping out each other get out of trouble and walking with his arm wrapped around you and smiling and feeling flustered no. you didn't get flustered, especially not at the hands of percy jackson.

"i don't think she likes you very much." you said sarcastically, fake pity painted over your features as you pressed your lips into a line.

"yeah?" he chuckled, looking at you with a slight tilt in his head, "i really don't think so either."

you smiled, glancing behind you, seeing your principals retreating figure fully gone, so you stopped limping and straightened up. "um, thanks for covering for me."

"its no biggie," he said casually, he said, his arm still wrapped around you. he realised a second later, then cleared his throat as he swiftly put his arm back at his sides. "i-my bad, sorry."

you hoped he couldn't see the flush of "its fine, percy." you said with a near nervous laugh, but you prayed it came off as casual. "chill."

he shot you a bashful smile, but it quickly turned playful after he looked you up and down. "uh, you know, since i did you a favor, that technically means you owe me big time now." he said half jokingly, "so, that means i can copy off of you in tests, like, for life, right?

"of course you'd ruin the moment like that." you debated shoving him as you huffed a laugh, not missing the way percy's gaze stayed fixed on you as you smiled. "no, you can’t copy off of me, idiot."

his grin widened, stepping a little closer to you as you continued waking side by side.

"are you saying that there was a moment to ruin?"

your eyes widened, keenly aware of his closeness which made it almost impossible

"wha- no! there was no moment. i was just-" you cut yourself off, seeing that glint in his eye that told you he was trying to get you to stumble like this. "goodness, you are so annoying.”

"i do try." he shot you a grin and you rolled your eyes, which felt natural, like what you always did.

what wasn't natural though, was the smile you fought back and the urge you felt to look at him once again and see that grin of his. 

what was happening to you?

you sighed, finally choosing to shove him little to which he only laughed at. "its definitely working, i'll tell you that much." you muttered, which was probably the wrong thing to say, because you got a feeling he'd only annoy you tenfold more now.

you were 10 steps away from the door that held the the staircase that led to your dorms. on said door, there was a big poster decorated by the girls in your block. ''girls dormiotes. no boys!'' written in bold, underlined in red.

''you know, maybe i should walk you to your dorm.'' percy suggested, scratching the back of his neck. ''can’t have you tripping over yourself, i mean your leg injury was pretty serious.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “you wanna walk me to the girls’ dorms? i’m good, thanks.”

percy laughed, taking a step back as he raised his hands. “hey, i’m just trying to make sure my friend gets to her room safe. no ill intentions here.”

you stared at him, arms still crossed as you deadpanned. “i’m your friend?”

percy blinked. “...yes?”

you couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh, a stark contrast to the way your heart fluttered, and how it felt like there wasnt just butterflies in your stomach, but the whole goddamn zoo.

you shook your head. “ok, well, friend or not, i don’t need your help.'' you told him.

you turned on your heel, walking away quickly, trying to mask the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. you could practically hear the way percy stood there, speechless, behind you.

but just as you reached the door, you heard his voice, still full of amusement. “i see how it is.”

you glanced back over your shoulder, one hand on the door handle. he was standing there, one hand still in his pocket, the other placed over his heart dramatically “you’re really just gonna leave me hanging like that, huh?”

you chuckled as you rolled your eyes, giving him a little wave sarcastically. ''better?''

''much better.'' he seemed to have recovered from his shock, that grin of his settling back on his lips as he put his hand back in his pocket.

"same time tomorrow?" he quipped jokingly, with the quickest of winks you almost wouldn't have caught it if you weren't so focused on the way his eyes looked in this light.

you smiled sweetly, "not a chance in hell.”

percy sighed, fake slumping and shaking his head to himself. "i tried." he mumbled, sliding his hands into his pockets.

you chuckled half heartedly, the 'staying up late' finally catching up to you as you offered percy a sleepy smile, your hand still on the handle ready to go.

"alright, goodnight, percy."

this time, he didn't need to be nudged to say it back.

he smiled a genuine smile at you, "goodnight."

taglist: @lovethornes @littlemissmentallyunstable @midiosaamor @maybxlle @imaseabear @sheisntyou @off-to-the-r4ces @anintellectualintellectual @wish-i-were-heather @hxress23 @hermesenthusiast

[jeannyjaykaydeh]

PMS

Alastor x Reader

Alastor comes down the hotel stairs into the lobby and sees you sitting next to Angel Dust on the sofa. There are lots of bags and packaging scattered around you. Curious, the radio demon raises an eyebrow and walks towards you.

When he reaches you, he sees that the contents of the package are a lot of fast food: burgers (with double toppings), fries, fried noodles, spring rolls, sandwiches, doughnuts, pizza - and you stuff everything indiscriminately into you like a ravenous animal.

Alastor stands directly in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. With a slightly amused, but above all judgemental smile, he looks down at your pathetic figure sitting on the sofa with her mouth full and chewing.

Readers: Whaff?

Alastor: What are you doing here, my dear?

Reader: I'm... eating?!

Alastor: Oh, I can see that, sweetie. But I wonder why you don't eat something... something edible?

Disgusted, he takes an empty bag between his thumb and forefinger and lifts it up. He shudders a little in disgust as he sees the stale and smelly frying fat oozing out.

Reader: It is edible. It even tastes pretty good. Try it.

Alastor (laughing pejoratively): Oooh, fuck, no! No! No, no, no, no! No way! Absolutely not! No!

Reader (shrugging her shoulders and continuing eating).

Angel Dust, who has been scrolling on his smartphone the whole time, looks up and grins wryly.

Angel: Man, Smiles, ya don't understand.

Alastor (turning his gaze to Angel and raising an eyebrow): Hm?

Angel: It's called PMS. She's heading towards the end of her cycle, and it's a stressful hormonal journey full of mood swings and weird cravings.

Angel (getting up from the sofa, leaning over to Alastor and whispering to him): I should warn ya about her mood swings. One wrong word and she'll tear ya to pieces. Even yer status as a radio demon won't help, trust me.

Alastor (turning to you with a sigh): And you think that eating this... TRASH will help your hormonal balance, which is already out of control?

Reader (narrowing her eyes): Maybe I'll just eat you if you don't shut up, you walking strawberry shake!

Alastor (under static noises and with a very, very slight hint of nervousness): Ohoho! All right, all right. We don't want any trouble here, do we?

Alastor raises his arms defensively and leaves the lobby.

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

A little later - you're sitting on your bed in your room, hugging your pillow and trying to fight your depressed mood. PMS is so annoying!

Then there's a knock on your door.

Reader: Yes?

Alastor (entering your room and approaching you with elegant steps): Well, well, well, who here feels blue and looks as miserable as sin?

Reader (narrowing her eyes in annoyance): If you've come here to annoy me, then I have to tell you that you've picked absolutely the wrong time to do so.

Alastor (laughing): Haha! Who do you think I am? As if I'm such a heartless monster.

Silence between you. You look at him with a raised eyebrow.

Alastor (shrugging his shoulders): Well, let's not kid ourselves. I am a heartless monster. Most of the time, anyway. Ahaha!

Then he holds out his hand and expects you to let him help you out of bed.

Reader (sceptical): What are you up to?

Alastor: I have a little surprise for you. Just trust me, darling.

You take his hand and let him lead you to his room.

A large, elegantly laid table with all kinds of dishes awaits you there. Homemade and freshly cooked, high-quality and expensive ingredients, prepared in a vitamin-preserving way and it smells fantastic.

Your jaw drops when you see this large table with the delicious multi-course menu.

Alastor looks at you and giggles.

Alastor (putting his hand on your chin to gently close your mouth): Well, that's no reason to be so theatrical, sweetheart.

Reader: Did... Did you cook all this?

Alastor (snapping his fingers and suddenly wearing the uniform of a waiter. Approaching your chair and pulling it back to offer you the seat): But of course I cooked it myself, my dear. Please, sit down and help yourself. I'm sure this meal will help you with your current condition.

Suddenly you burst into tears - it's hard to tell if you're moved or if it's because of your PMS.

You rush over to Alastor and enthusiastically throw your arms around his neck.

Reader: THANK YOU! THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO, SO, SO , SO MUCH! I love you!

Alastor is completely surprised by your emotional outburst. His eyes widen and he makes a static noise.

Alastor (patting your head): But of course you do, baby. Of course you do.

Alastor (mumbling a little later): I love you too.

[maretinelli]

SWEET NIGHT

Lewis Hamilton X Wife!fem!reader

Summary: When the little Hamilton family has a fun night out with their little girl and Roscoe.

Words: 2.8K+

Warnings: Daddy Lewis, Mommy Y/n, mentions of Italy, daughter, cute and just cute things, maybe a suggestive themed ending.

Author: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes there may be. And I love Papa Lewis, I could read everything on this topic😭❤️‍🩹 (You can request stories on my profile!)

MASTERLIST

Y/n was in the kitchen, stirring a pan while the soft sound of Italian music filled the room. She liked to put on podcasts, songs and talk to her daughter in Italian, so that the little girl would have her independence in the language. Since with her father's work, the family had to move to Italy.

Mariah sat near the island, absorbed in her coloring book, her small hands quickly coloring the pictures carefully. While Roscoe, lying next to the girl, seemed to be enjoying the peace of the house, his gaze calm and distant, as if he had surrendered to time.

The oldest one talked about her daughter's writing in Italian, giving her tips and telling her what she could use as a basis to write better.

"Mommy, you've explained to me a thousand times how to do this, I already know," Mariah said, shaking her head, still not letting go of her focus on the image.

Y/n smiled, trying to hide her amusement as she turned her food over. "I know, honey. I just wanted to make sure you understood." She walked past her daughter and placed a quick kiss on the girl's wavy hair.

The little girl let out a dramatic sigh, her brow furrowed as she looked at Roscoe, who had his head down, looking dejected. "Why does Roscoe seem so sad lately?"

"Ah, it's because he's getting old and tired, you know? He doesn't have the same energy to play as you do." Y/n adds seasoning to the food she was preparing.

Mariah still had her eyes on the dog as he snored softly in his sleep.

"How old is he, Mom?"

Y/n let out a sincere smile, amused by the seriousness with which the question was asked.

"Oh, I don't know exactly. But when I started dating Dad, Roscoe was already there. So I can't say for sure." Y/n smiles at her daughter, and she smiles back at him with the same smile as her father. "We can ask Dad as soon as he gets here."

Mariah looks at the dog again: "He really does look old." Then she picks up the colored pencil again and starts coloring again. "He must be as old as daddy!"

Y/n laughed, surprised by the comparison, as she dropped the spoon into the pan. Young Hamilton looked at her mother in amusement.

"Well, when Daddy gets home from work, I'll tell him about it!"

Mariah laughed loudly, enjoying the fun moment with her mother, and Roscoe, as always, didn't care much about the family's jokes.

Y/n continued talking to Mariah as she stirred dinner, the words flowing naturally between them.

Little Mariah Hamilton was a perfect mix of her parents, but the traits of Lewis's genetics stood out more, making Y/n remember her husband every time she looked at her daughter's wavy dark hair or when she smiled.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do for your next birthday, Mariah?" Y/n sets the table with plates, glasses and silverware.

"I don't know..." she says thoughtfully, stopping her drawing for a moment. "I'm in doubt between two themes..."

Y/n smiled, looking at her daughter, as she walked over to the stove, where Mariah was sitting on the front counter.

"It's okay, sweetie. We still have time to think."

Just then, the front door opened. The familiar sound of Lewis's footsteps made Mariah's face light up and Y/n cracked a smile. The house was filled with silent anticipation, the family's routine interrupted only by this small daily ritual.

Roscoe, who until then had been quiet next to Mariah, suddenly stood up, his ears pricked up, as if he had sensed his owner's presence. Before Lewis had even fully entered, Roscoe took off, running excitedly towards the entrance.

The girl gave a cry of surprise and laughter, watching the dog running around the house, wagging its tail excitedly.

"Roscoe, you're too excited right now!" Mariah said, laughing loudly, her identical Lewis smile spreading across her face.

Y/n laughed.

"Girls, I'm home!" Lewis called out from the front door as he hung up his car keys. "Hey, Roscoe, how are you, buddy?" Lewis said, his voice soft and caring, reaching down to pet Roscoe, running his hand through the dog's fur affectionately.

Hamilton smelled the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen, and then decided to follow it, knowing that his girls would probably be there making dinner.

"Look there, my girls!" He smiles when he sees Y/n at the stove finishing dinner and Mariah perched on the stool coloring.

Lewis hugs his daughter from behind and kisses her cheek, making her laugh as her father's beard tickles her. Hamilton smiles as he hears the laughter and then looks at his wife, approaching and hugging her.

"How are you guys?" He asks, after giving the woman a quick kiss on the lips.

"We're fine. We were just talking about Mariah's Italian lessons, weren't we, daughter?" Y/n smiled, placing the pan on the table and walking back, while Lewis snaked his hand down to rest on his wife's waist.

"Oh, really? And how are you?" Lewis asks interestedly, looking at his daughter.

"I think it's going well... Today I managed to understand almost everything the teacher said in class, she even colored it in.

Y/n and Lewis exchange an amused look when they hear the 'almost everything' coming from their daughter.

"That's great, sweetie." Lewis walks over to his daughter, kissing the top of her head.

Y/n smiles. "So Mariah..." she begins, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at her daughter in front of her and her husband. "Aren't you going to tell daddy what you said to mommy just now?" She holds back a laugh and Lewis looks at the two of them curiously.

"What have you been up to, Bub?" He drawls, pinching her nose lightly. Making her giggle.

Mariah shrugs a little and sets the pencil aside, turning to see her father's amused face.

"I told you Roscoe is as old as you." She went back to coloring, while Y/n laughed again and Lewis stood there looking at his daughter, a smile appearing on his face and a false indignation.

"You did what?" He asks playfully, starting to tickle his daughter. "I'm not old, just so you know." Mariah laughed out loud.

"It's okay, it's okay...daddy's not old. Just Roscoe" Mariah shouts laughing, making Lewis stop tickling and smile seeing his daughter's face.

"That's much better" He kisses the top of her head and turns to Y/n laughing.

Mariah looks at her mother and makes a discreet gesture with her finger, as if to say that he was just a 'little' old. Y/n holds back a laugh and rolls her eyes.

Everyone knew what a great jokester Mariah could be. But sometimes she outdid herself in her jokes.

"Okay you two. Old or young, dinner is on the table waiting for you" Y/n says and Lewis walks past her, slapping his wife's ass, making her squeal.

"I'm not old, you know," he whispered into his wife's ear, as she smiled sideways and a shiver ran through her body.

Mariah, for her part, struggled to get down from the high chair.

"Hey, honey. Let me help you." Lewis comes and picks up his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek and placing her near the table.

After dinner and cleaning up, the little Hamilton family gathered in the great room, along with Roscoe. In the center of the room, a small toy table was surrounded by a likely circle: Lewis, Y/n and even Roscoe, all sitting on the floor, with their knees bent and their gazes focused.

Mariah was in charge, her little face beaming with joy as she poured imaginary tea into the toy mugs. She wore a sparkling tiara on her head, her princess costume creating an extra sparkle in her eyes.

Around her, her parents were dressed in the makeshift costumes she had chosen herself.

The incredible serious Ferrari driver - Lewis, was unrecognizable with a pink princess tiara on his head and fairy wings spread across his back, trying to maintain a serious expression, but the corners of his mouth betrayed his smile.

He looked at his daughter with a fond gleam in his eyes, knowing she had gotten what she wanted, as she always did, but also feeling grateful for these small, adorable moments.

Y/n, on the other hand, had light makeup done by Mariah, her eyes softly colored with shadows and a bit of glitter that her daughter loved to apply. She wore several scarves around her neck, some awkwardly wrapped and others hanging down, and a pair of childish glasses were stuck on her head, over her hair.

Even poor Roscoe had glasses on his doggy face, not really caring about the game, just laying there for Mariah to play with.

Mariah seemed to have her parents wrapped around her finger, as if they were completely at her beck and call, but at the same time, she treated them with such affection and sweetness that it didn't feel like a command, but a desire to share.

"Daddy, do you want some more tea? Mommy, can I get you some cookies?" he asked softly but confidently, knowing they would never say no.

As Mariah continued to serve tea and tell stories, Lewis allowed himself to relax, forgetting for a moment the hectic life he led. He was there, with his family, on a peaceful night, and that was all he really needed.

He laughed lovingly at the way Yin played with their daughter, as if all the worries in the world could wait while they lived in this moment.

"Daddy, do you need more tea?" Mariah asked again, her expression beaming as she held out the toy mug to Lewis, who, with a smile of pure happiness, pretended to take a sip.

"Of course, my princess," he said, his voice soft and caring, and there, in that simple gesture, he realized that he didn't need anything else beyond that little scene, that unconditional love that seemed to fill every corner of the house.

Mariah, with her sparkling tiara and focused expression, poured another imaginary cup of tea for her father, who greeted it with a smile.

When she turned to hand the imaginary cookie to Y/n, she noticed that the cookie toy was almost empty, with only a few pieces visible on the table. With an expression of slight frustration, she raised her hands and said in her childish, determined voice:

"Just a minute, Mommy, I'll get some more cookies!"

Without waiting for a response, she ran excitedly into the room, her little legs making a happy noise as she walked away.

"Our daughter really is amazing, isn't she?" Lewis said with a tender smile, touching her hand.

Y/n looked at him, her eyes shining with affection, and nodded. "She has a unique way of making everything more fun," she replied softly, feeling her heart warm at the moment.

Lewis then leaned towards Y/n, pulling her close and whispering something sweet in her ear. "I still can't believe you're mine," he said with a fond smile, before pulling his wife into a kiss on the lips, affection spreading between them.

Mariah walked into the room with a new toy in her hands, a small, mischievous smile on her face. She placed the toy on the table, crossed her arms with a serious expression, and approached her father, pulling his head back, making him look at her with a confused look.

"Hey, what are you doing, princess?" Lewis asked, laughing, while Y/n also smiled at the funny scene. Mariah held her father's head back gently.

"You can't kiss. Princess Mommy is promised to another prince."

Y/n let out a laugh, and Lewis widened his eyes, pretending to be shocked.

"Hey, what's this? I came first and I conquered first! Princess Mommy is mine," he said playfully, pulling Yin into an awkward hug, nearly knocking over the toys around them.

"Okay... you can have Princess Mommy... but only because you're my Daddy," She said with a chuckle, before jumping towards the table and throwing herself back on the couch, pretending to be defeated.

Y/n smiled at that unique moment, hugging Lewis back, feeling a warmth in her chest. She couldn't imagine living that sweet dream, with the family they had created, when she met Lewis ten years ago. Life had been full of surprises and twists and turns, and that simple, yet perfect moment, was everything she could have wished for.

"I can't help but love this," Y/n whispered, stroking Mariah's hair as the girl played with her teacup again. "I love you guys! So, so much!"

Lewis kissed Y/n's forehead affectionately, still smiling at the funny and loving moment they had just shared.

"I love you too, princess mommy," he said in a soft, loving voice. "And I will win you forever."

Y/n's gaze met his, and for an instant, the entire world seemed to stop, leaving only that moment of pure happiness and familial love.

The mood only dissipated when little Hamilton asked if anyone wanted a biscuit to go with their imaginary tea.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tea night had long since ended, the house was silent except for the soft sound of music playing in the background.

Y/n was in the living room, picking up the toys scattered around the small makeshift tea table. Roscoe was lying on the carpet, watching her with his tired eyes, as if he understood the serenity of the moment. She smiled at him.

"You're tired, buddy, but you did a great job today. Mariah loves you, you know? I bet she'll want to take you to ballet tomorrow, but you can sleep in a little longer, okay?"

The dog wagged his tail slightly, as if in agreement.

Lewis comes out of the hallway and appears in the living room, bringing with him a smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He comes closer, leaning against the doorframe for a moment, watching Y/n fondly as she finishes putting away her toys.

"She finally fell asleep," he began, walking over to her. "But before she closed her eyes, she said something that made me laugh."

"What's wrong?" Y/n looked curiously.

"She said she was really tired because, and I quote, 'Being a princess is a hard job, Daddy, but someone's gotta do it.'" He laughed, shaking his head. "I think we have a little leader in our house."

Y/n laughed with him, shaking her head in amusement.

"She's growing up so fast, Lew. It seems like just yesterday she was that tiny baby in our arms. And now, she's so smart and full of personality."

Lewis approached her, wrapped her in a hug from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder, as he always did when he wanted a quiet and close moment. Y/n smiled instantly, feeling that familiar butterflies in her stomach, something he still managed to provoke in her after so many years together.

"She gets her intelligence from her mother," he commented, gently kissing the side of her neck.

"And father's charisma," Y/n replied, tilting her head to lean against him, the smile still on her lips.

For a few moments, they stood there, enjoying the silence and each other's company, until Lewis broke the moment with an unexpected question:

"Have you ever thought about having one more?"

Y/n turned her head to look at him, surprised, but with a curious glint in her eyes. "Another child?"

"Yeah, why not?" He smiled, wrapping his arms around her more tightly. "Mariah would make a great big sister. And I'd love to do it all over again."

Y/n chuckled softly, thinking about the idea.

"I never imagined you would bring this up now. But... it's not a bad idea."

Lewis smiled, clearly pleased with her answer. He gently turned her to face him and pulled her into a hot kiss, full of passion and desire. Y/n melted into his arms, as she always did, and smiled against his lips.

When the kiss ended, he murmured in a playful tone, "So... how about we start now?"

Y/n laughed loudly, pushing him lightly in the chest.

"Lewis!"

Before she could protest further, he quickly picked her up and placed her over his shoulders, eliciting a surprised gasp from her followed by laughter.

"What are you doing?!"

"Taking the queen to her chambers, of course," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/n laughed as he walked down the hallway, commenting, "You're a freak!"

"Maybe. But I'm your crazy person," he retorted, laughing along with her as they disappeared towards the bedroom, the sound of their laughter filling the house.

Author: My first name is Mariah (actually, without the H) but it's the same thing hahahaha

[toomuchracket]

hny (flatmate!matty x reader fluff)

missed him a lot, here's a teeny baby fic about the first new year's eve as a couple. enjoy <3

"we're putting the hootenanny on for the countdown, yeah?"

matty looks up from his conversation with george's girlfriend, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the disdain on both of their faces. "what kind of a fucking question is that, hann? of course we are. we're not animals."

adam stares him down, swigging from the glass of... whatever that is in his hand. "you wouldn't let us put it on last time you hosted new year's eve..."

"yeah, well, that was a while ago."

"... because it would make you seem cringe in front of," the guitarist nods at you, collapsing into giggles when he takes you in properly. "her."

"shut up, hann," matty rubs his temples, a telltale sign of exasperation; his eyes flick to you, the slight panic tinting them obvious even in your tipsy state. "ignore him, sweetheart, he's drunk."

your gaze shifts to your friend beside him, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. "but he's right, isn't he?"

"well," she pats matty on the arm sympathetically, but her pretty face lifts into a smirk. "yeah, he is. your boyfriend here didn't want anything making him seem uncool to you," grinning, she leans in and tugs matty's cheeks, shouting over his protests. "he looooooooooooved you."

"i miss when you were halfway across europe," matty grumbles, swatting her away.

"no you don't."

"in this instant, i do."

"love you too, bff. mwah!" she messily kisses matty's cheek - he's quick to hide it, but you don't miss his smile at the sweet gesture - before teetering over to you, fawn-like as a result of drunkenness and high heels, and planting a sloppy kiss on your nose. "love you even more, though. missed you a lot."

you wrap your arms around her, tears pricking at your eyes. christ, maybe you should slow down on the drinks. "love you so much. you're never allowed to leave me ever again."

"as if i'd do that. we're gonna have a double wedding like in barbie princess and the pauper and everything."

matty cuts in. "do george and i get a say in this, or... ?"

you and your friend both turn to look at him, still clutching each other like life rafts - you shake your head, and she scoffs. "absolutely not. speaking of george, though," she kisses your nose again, stumbling as she lets go of you. "m'gonna find him. and then i'm gonna put the hootenanny on the telly. and then i'm gonna sort champagne for the bells. come on, adam, you can help me."

"love you, darling!" you call after her as she wobbles her way out of the room, dragging an equally wobbly adam behind her. alone with your boyfriend, you slide off your windowsill perch and make your way onto his lap. "you're alright too, i s'pose."

"cheeky," matty pinches your thigh, kissing away the little yelp you let out in response - you deepen it, slipping your tongue into his mouth with a moan, and he smiles against your lips before pulling away. "jesus, save some for the bells, babe."

you pout, tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. "you're turning down kisses?"

"just delaying them, darling," matty coos. his hands trail up and down the sides of your body, across the skintight red dress you strategically picked for tonight's celebrations; his eyes follow the trail, desire in them as clear as day. "you're making it really fucking difficult in this outfit, though, i must say."

"give in, then!"

matty smiles, shaking his head. "five more minutes, baby. five minutes, and the first thing i'll be doing in the new year is snogging the face off you - which, if you ask me, is the ideal way to kick off 2015. to do that, though, i need to conserve my energy," he leans forward, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and you can't help smiling. "will you let me do that, sweetheart?"

you sigh. "this better be the best kiss of all time, healy."

"trust me, babe, it will be," matty kisses softly up your neck to whisper in your ear. "and after the kiss, i'm gonna kick everybody out, and take that dress of yours off with my teeth. deal?"

"deal."

[thebiggerbear]

FANFICTION FRIDAYS

This week I moved the # from 56 to 16.

Here are my picks for Jan 3rd 2025, please go give them a read:

Unspoken Words by @winchesterwild78 & @cheekygirl2309 (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF)

More Than You Could Ever Know by @godmadeaterribleerror - A No Love Lost Christmas Special! Takes place about five months after the end of No Love Lost, sort of an epilogue to the main story. (Soldier Boy x Supe Female!Reader, The Boys)

When What We Had Was Everything by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior - When Y/N really needs him, Jensen steps up, leaving all their past in the past. Can Y/N possibly do the same? (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF)

Come Find Me by @lightdancingwords - You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts? (Beau Arlen x Female!Reader, Big Sky)

Forever After All by @jobean12-blog - You and Javi have been working together for a few months and you can't deny that you like him...everything about him. And you know you're not imagining the subtle flirting and lingering glances but when you have an assignment that puts you two closer than you 've ever been you find out what it all really means. (Javier Pena x Female!Reader, Narcos)

Family by @lila-lou - This Christmas is your first with Emily, Beau’s teenage daughter. Between her shy smiles and sharp wit, she’s learning to trust you, and you’re creating a home together. (Beau Arlen x Reader, Big Sky)

New Year’s Bingo Card 2024: Bang by @bullet-prooflove (Eddie Diaz x Reader, 911)

Desire, I'm Hungry by @yourfavoritewitchbitch - You and Steve happen upon a strange flower and suddenly find yourselves separated from your friends in the Upside Down. An unrelenting desire overtakes the both of you, taking your friendship past the point of no return. (Steve Harrington x Reader, Stranger Things)

Bruised Fruit by @lostloveletters - Gloria falls like overripe fruit from a wilting tree branch, and Michael Corleone intends to devour her amidst the rot and decay that's long since taken root in his family, intent on dooming her with him for a chance at another heir. (Michael Corleone x OFC, The Godfather Series)

Are You Humming Radio Company? by @justwhisperingfantasies (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF)

Your Fault by @lamentationsofalonelypotato - Reader is pregnant and suffering from morning sickness, only to be comforted by Daryl. (Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader, The Walking Dead)

All I Want by @katehuntington - Sam and Dean come across an object that could be the solution to Michael. The Pearl of Baozhu grants the beholder’s deepest desire. Once Dean focuses on his wish, the archangel remains caged in his mind however. Instead his former girlfriend Y/N shows up, who was killed in 2010 in Detroit, by no other than the Devil himself. (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural)

Power In the Blood by @venus-haze - There’s power in the blood. Father Paul knows this. Soon, you will, too. (Father Paul Hill x Nun!Reader, Midnight Mass)

Change of Plans by @impala-dreamer - Sometimes, you gotta blow off your plans and blow your husband instead… (Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader, RPF)

The Broken Circle by @jollyhunter - “Winchester” - That’s the name you applied with at the police department, when you started a new life in Big Sky, Montana, 4 years ago. It’s your deceased husband’s name. Or rather, meant-to-be husband, since Dean died 2 weeks before he got to propose to you. Today you return from your one month time-out. But a lot has changed since you went to visit Sam; You’ve got a new sheriff. And he’s the same man you thought you’d never see again. (Beau!Dean x Hunter!Reader, Big Sky/Supernatural)

Good Girl by @storiesofsvu (Grace Muncy x Reader, Law & Order: SVU)

Looking for more? Please check out my fic rec lists and writers rec lists (1, 2, 3). I do have some things to update like the Beau stories list, Alec, Russell, Jensen, Soldier Boy, Dean, etc (and I promise I will when I hopefully get more time this month) and I do have some more coming out, like for Law & Order: SVU, LOTR, etc.

In the meantime, if you’d like to peruse even more stories that are on my reading lists, please check out @biggerbearsreads and @tbbrebloglibrary (which will eventually take place of the 1st - tbbrl will be more organized by tags, etc) or you can check out @biggerbearficrecs.

And please don’t forget when you come across any and all creative content on here to reblog:

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[zepskies]

Aww here we go!! 😍 👏🏽👏🏽 I've been very excited to see what you'd do with Russell, considering your affinity and talent for writing our favorite law enforcement boys. This was just as twisty and exciting as I thought it would be!

“Extra fluffy for you, Mr. Russell,” Rosa, the maid, would say every morning with the brightest smile.

loll what I'd give to make sure he's got everything nice and fluffy. 😏

(A hot tub in the back, huh? Wayne, stop giving me ideas for ESC one-shots. 🥵🫠)

Providing answers didn’t come easy for the older Shaw, however. In fact, it had always been sort of a problem for him – even in the past. Especially in the past. Russell never lied, but he did omit things. Important things. On purpose.

Ooh yep! You really picked up on aspects of Russell's personality that I felt inherently when I was watching (studying) him, but hadn't consciously put into words. 👌🏽

All they had was them. They were friends. Best friends. Always competitive, but friends nonetheless.

It's also so interesting (and crazy) how little Russ and Colter know about each other now as men. There's got to be shades of who they were when they were younger, but it's bittersweet in a sense. And now they're both trying to suss each other out like lone wolves that are kinda sorta friends. 😂

Of course, there's still that "I thought you killed our dad" for 20+ years -- on Colter's end. 😅

“Yeah, well, let’s just say in an ideal world this, uh, woman would be part of that exit,” Russell said and sounded purposely casual as if he didn’t care the mission was successful or not in the end, omitting yet another thing – he did care. He cared a fucking lot.

Okay, this whole thing with the reader is fascinating. Because why does he have to go through all this trouble to find her if they've been a thing for 10...12...14...20-something years?! (Love how the number in Russell's "memory" just kept getting longer. 🤣🤣) It feels so sketchy all around, and oh so intriguing. Why haven't they seen each other in so long? Were they...

And if she's still "in the game," how does Russell think he's going to get her out and settle down with him? 😏

I'm full of questions, but I know you have a brilliant master plan for all of this. I've noticed this about the most recent stories you've created, but you're so very good at writing these law enforcement/military men paired with heroines that share their world, "same foxhole" type of deal.

I tend to go the opposite route, partly because I'm interested in the dynamic between them and a "civilian," but also because I don't think I'd be able to do the "same foxhole" trope justice. So that's something I really admire about you as a writer. 💜

The push and pull banter between Colter and Russ in this chapter was also so fun to read lol, and it just kept building up the mystery of the reader and why Russell is doing all of this, right up until that awesome cliffhanger!!

This first chapter hooked me right in -- can't wait to dive into chapter 2 next! 🤩🤩

The Exit Strategy – Part 1

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there's one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, mystery, a tinge of angst, humor & brotherly banter, one tiny surprise 🤓

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Happy holidays, guys! Enjoy 🎄❤️

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 1: This Is Not a Pipe

The heavy truck door slammed shut behind him as Russell slid into the passenger seat with an exhaustive sigh. Colter’s big pickup was parked right next to his beautiful Chevelle in that same old motel parking lot in Virginia.

Russell hadn’t moved – yet. Well, sort of. He’d been away on assignment in some frosty region for a couple of weeks. He wasn’t allowed to say where exactly he’d been, and he knew better than to put it into writing, so let’s just agree he was at the North Pole looking for Santa Claus.

He could’ve ended up anywhere he wanted once he touched ground in the States again, but a very appreciated phone call from a former colleague made the decision for him. Besides, Russell knew this particular motel well. The coffee was more than decent and got the job done, the owner and employees were nice, comforting, and, most of all, trustworthy, and there were always fresh towels.

“Extra fluffy for you, Mr. Russell,” Rosa, the maid, would say every morning with the brightest smile.

Oh, and they had a hot tub in the back…

“Thanks for coming, man,” Russell extended his greeting without glancing at his younger brother once. He could feel Colter’s scrutinizing eyes on him, though, drilling for answers. Granted, his request had been rather unusual, so Russell understood where his younger brother’s ever-frozen furrowed brow stemmed from.

Providing answers didn’t come easy for the older Shaw, however. In fact, it had always been sort of a problem for him – even in the past. Especially in the past. Russell never lied, but he did omit things. Important things. On purpose.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” Colter replied with a polite smile as he started the car and rolled out of the lot.

Ah, yes, politeness…

That was what they were at, although it was progressively improving. It was only the third time the brothers were seeing each other since they had reconnected. And while the last two encounters had given the Shaws some well-needed time to talk things out and build trust, Colter was still naturally wary of his estranged sibling. As was Russell.

“So, what’s this about? You were pretty vague on the phone. You in trouble?”

That finally caught Russell’s full attention. He quickly shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his face. “What? No! No… No trouble,” he swiftly assuaged his brother with a dismissive hand gesture and a lighthearted chuckle. “Just need your help tracking down an old friend of mine, is all.”

Colter quirked an eyebrow at that. “Another Army buddy of yours?”

“Uh, something like that, yeah,” Russell replied rather mysteriously and didn’t even try to conceal the fact that he was hiding something more behind his ambiguous answer. But Colter only intensified his stare at him and wouldn’t let go that easily. Russell knew that. After all, they were related.

Persistence was a Shaw family trait. Another survival skill, if you will.

But this time, Russell wasn’t hiding a big government secret (or maybe he was). No lives depended on this particular mission (or so he thought). He wasn’t protecting a client, a company, or even his dubious employer (but someone else). He wasn’t choked by an NDA or about to save someone in grave danger (as far as he knew).

No, if anything, it was the fact that Russell didn’t know how much he could or should share with his brother. They were related, yes. But, technically, they hadn’t seen each other in decades, so they weren’t just considered merely estranged but strangers. Russell had always been aware of that fact, and Colter was beginning to catch on.

Especially during this mission.

See, once upon a time, the two hadn’t been just brothers. After moving to the cabin, societal contacts became scarce for the siblings. All they had was them. They were friends. Best friends. Always competitive, but friends nonetheless.

How much did they really know about each other now, though? How much of the old was still there?

“So, who are we looking for? What’s the guy’s name?” Colter asked, suddenly eager as he jumped into gear. He had always been restless, even as a kid, which fondly reminded Russell of their childhood.

But how much was he still the Russell that Colter once knew?

Well, Russell, on the other hand, remained calm and ruffled a casual hand through his beard. “Well, she’s, uh–”

Eyebrow cocked, Colter snapped his head to the passenger seat where his brother started to squirm. “Oh… Oh, so it’s a she,” he emphasized with a small grin. “Now I think I get it.”

There it is. I knew it, Russell thought with an internal sigh. In order for this mission to work, he knew he had to reveal some things. Private things. Things about himself and his life. Going in, Russell knew he couldn’t ask Colter for help without giving him something.

Their father had loved tests (and so did you – but that’s another story…). Russell always thought it had been the professor in him. So, Russell saw this as a test as well.

Could he trust Colter? And more pressingly, considering some long held accusations of murder, did Colter trust him?

A clear of Russell’s throat cut right through Colter’s chuckle. And then, the eldest tried his best to give no reaction at all. “Yes, she’s a… woman, but hold your horses. It’s not what you think, okay?” Colter lifted his eyebrow once more, causing Russell to heave another exhaustive sigh. “Fine, alright? It’s exactly what you think.”

Well, close enough, Russell thought. He knew Colter couldn’t even possibly imagine the reality in his wildest dreams.

Usually, Russell was an expert in avoiding uncomfortable questions. He was a pro at ditching answers and keeping secrets, even under torture and duress. However, there was just something entirely unique about dodging questions posed by little brothers.

And Russell saw it as a perfect bonding opportunity. He wanted to fill the chasm between them that their father’s death had caused – once and for all. But he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t walking around on eggshells most of the time – something that reminded him of you again.

Learning from past mistakes, Russell wanted Colter to experience the fun side of him. The one that brewed his own beer, cared too much about his car, and had weird tastes in food. He chose to leave out the rest – the dark stuff and the very best stuff, too.

After all, Russell was good at omitting things.

Colter chuckled triumphantly. “Does this mean you’re finally giving up on Reenie?”

Amused, Russell let out a snort. “Ha! You wish… First things first, alright? Let’s just see how this thing pans out. It’s kind of a long shot. You know that exit plan I told you about?”

“Yeah, you wanna open your own brewery, right?”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say in an ideal world this, uh, woman would be part of that exit,” Russell said and sounded purposely casual as if he didn’t care the mission was successful or not in the end, omitting yet another thing – he did care.

He cared a fucking lot.

“Really? Okay.” Colter scratched his jaw and gave his words some thought. Then he offered a small, yet kind, smile. Honestly, Russell didn’t know what he had expected. “But, you know, if you want me to find the future Mrs. Shaw, I’m gonna need more information to go on. A name, last address, or a-, uh, a picture, maybe?”

“Well, name’s not gonna help you much in this case.” Your first name might’ve been shareable intel, but your last name was of the highest classification. “Her last address that I know of was in Berlin. And while I do have one photo of her, it’s not meant for your eyes, brother,” Russell said with a firmly territorial look that still carried a mischievous twinkle, revealing the exact nature of the photograph to be indeed inappropriate.

Russell had one naughty photo, yes. But he had a whole giant box of others, too.

Colter’s eyebrows met above his nose as he licked his lips. Customarily, people gave him more details when they needed him to find someone. But then again, those people usually weren’t his brother. “Do you know anything about this woman? How long have you two dated?”

“Uhm… not that long,” Russell supplied with a clear of his throat before mumbling the rest of his answer, hoping his beard would swallow most of his words. “Ten years. Give or take…”

What is time anyway if nothing but a concept, right?

Colter blinked at him and almost steered the vehicle off-road before gripping the wheel a little tighter. “I’m sorry… Did you just say ten years?”

“Well, might be more like twelve,” he admitted finally. “Well, anyways, saw her last three years ago.”

“Wow, okay, uhm…” Colter became quiet for a moment, speechless probably, the tiny bits of information running on a loop through his mind. He figured his brother still had lived a life while they hadn’t been speaking. Of course he had. He just never thought about what that life might have entailed, aside from classified military operations. “So, you’ve dated a woman for twelve years…”

“Fourteen.”

“…haven’t seen her in three, and know basically nothing about her?”

Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Ridiculous… Not even sure the name she did give me was her real one,” he said. It was a joke. He did know the name. He knew everything there was to know about you. So, maybe he did lie – sometimes. “But it’s the job, you know? It’s-, uh, it’s complicated.”

That part was true. Truer than he could ever possibly describe in words.

“I guess so…” Colter sighed, and Russell could hear the growing frustration. “So, she does what you do?”

Russell nodded. “In a way, yeah…” And Colter knew what that answer meant – he couldn’t say more. Again. “But don’t worry. We won’t have to turn over every stone on the face of this planet. I have a general idea of where she lives these days,” Russell provided. “One of my, uh, associates was working a job with her not that long ago. That’s how I found out she’s back in the States.”

Colter nodded in acceptance, knowing it was no use to try and prod more answers out of his brother. “Alright. Guess that’s something. So, where are we headed to?”

Russell then flashed him a grin with newfound determination sparkling in his green eyes. “Falls Church.”

The short drive had remained quiet for the most part. Colter refrained from asking more questions, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get straight answers out of his older brother in one form or the other. To accentuate Colter’s assumption of receiving non-answers, Russell mostly stared out the window with an intensity that had Colter believe his brother was counting trees when, in fact, Russell was pondering what he would, could, or should tell Colter.

Of course, Colter could also always ask more questions about their elusive father, but he didn’t do that either. Sure, one could say he was curious. More than that even.

What did Russell really know about his death? Their mother? Their family? Their work?

Another time, he kept telling himself throughout whenever he stole glances at his long-lost sibling. It was too soon. What was the point when Russell was so clearly reluctant to share anything at all?

Thus, there was nothing left but silence among peaceful woods and dense foliage till Colter pulled his truck over curbside in the idyllic town center of Falls Church.

Patiently, he waited a moment for Russell to open the floor and tell them their next logical steps. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, blew raspberries, clicked his tongue, and waited and waited and waited…

Nothing.

If Colter didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought someone carved a lifeless wax statue out of his brother and planted it on his passenger seat. Russell’s entire body stood motionless, only a set of green eyes flickered alive every once in a while and swayed out the windshield in search of something – or someone.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Colter asked with a clear of his throat. “You just wanna stay here and wait till she accidentally runs across the street?” It was meant as a joke, but to Colter’s dismay, Russell remained dead serious.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” the older Shaw confirmed and squinted his eyes at the busy street. Again, he had omitted a few things. In his mind, Colter didn’t need to know why Russell knew to be in front of the post office at exactly 15:03 (UTC–4) on a Tuesday.

Colter snorted a laugh. “What? C’mon, that can’t be the plan… Do you know how many people live in Falls Church? Or in the general Washington metropolitan area? We could be here for days. Weeks even…” The younger Shaw then switched fully into work mode, grabbing his phone from the Bluetooth car mount. “We’re never gonna find her like this. You got a phone number, maybe?” But before Russell could answer, Colter replied himself, shaking his head at his own silliness. “What am I even asking? Of course you don’t.”

Russell only smirked at that. Restless, he thought again.

“What about an old one? Maybe even that would help. I could call Bobby, Reenie… You got anything? Nothing?” But the younger Shaw’s questions apparently stumbled upon deaf ears. “Russell? Russ? Are you even listening to me? I’m trying to help you here. You could at least–”

“Found her!”

Russell almost jumped out of the car as his voice rang with sheer excitement. His heart was beating a mile a minute when his emerald eyes landed on the target. It felt like the very first time all over again.

Granted, the first meeting didn’t go so smoothly – there had definitely been some bumps (all on his part). Then again, he expected this next meeting to go a little roughly too (again, all on him).

“Wait, what?!”

Russell downright beamed. “Told you this would work.”

Colter only scoffed under his breath, the familiar competitiveness crawling back to the surface. “Yeah, well, beginner’s luck, okay?”

One boot had nearly touched asphalt before Russell remembered this wasn’t a situation that required him to storm in guns a-blazing – not even covert. Gentle hands, he reminded himself and swiftly closed the car door again, falling back into his seat. His lungs deflated.

Colter, on the other hand, was more confused than ever. “What-, uh, what are you doing?” Half-amused, his brow furrowed a bit more. “If you’ve found her, go talk to her. Where is she? Who is it?”

Curiosity could only be contained for so long. Colter wanted to know who had been a part of his brother’s life for almost as long as he had. He felt this was a key piece of information that would cause the first domino to fall. And then, revelation after revelation about Russell’s past would unravel.

Basically, Colter was waiting for the big epiphany. No pressure.

Russell vehemently shook his head. “Can’t. At least not like this. I need more intel first. You need to find out her name, and then we need your guy Bobby to get onto this.”

And yet again, guess what? Yes, Russell was, indeed, omitting things.

“Me? Why me?” Colter blinked at him. Surprise, surprise…

“‘Cause, obviously, she’d recognize me,” Russell pointed out. Again, omission. Like he had explained earlier, it was a real problem…

Colter exhaled a deep sigh. “Okay, and I’m guessing you’re still not gonna tell me why we’re doing all of this, right?”

“Nope.”

“Yup, thought so.” Still not convinced, Colter narrowed his eyes at his clearly paranoid brother. Maybe paranoia ran in the family. Not to point fingers – he recognized it in himself, too. “Do we really need to go through all that trouble? I mean, you’ve known that woman for, what, fourteen years, you said? Isn’t that a little extreme… even for you?”

Fifteen, Russell corrected in his mind. Close to sixteen. Nineteen max.

“Just trust me, okay? It’s necessary,” Russell reassured, knowing those words bore some weight. Hurriedly (he was getting antsy – this was a time-sensitive issue), he pointed a finger out the window to the sidewalk across the street. “You see that woman walking into the post office? That’s her.”

“What, the brunette in the flowery dress with the golden cross necklace? That’s her?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, okay…” Surprised didn’t come close to explain how Colter felt. He had expected… different. His brow almost met his hairline, but he still tried his best to conceal his wonder – to no avail.

Suspiciously, Russell leaned back in his seat and assessed his brother’s demeanor with a small glare. “What?”

“Nothing.” Colter threw his hands up in surrender, swallowing. “Just… She doesn’t really seem like your type.”

Amused, Russell stifled a chuckle. “And what exactly do you think is my type, little brother?”

“I don’t know…”

“What, you think some nice Christian girl is too good for me?” Russell deadpanned. Admittedly, he enjoyed bantering with his little brother. It reminded him of what he had missed out on for years. This was what he had wanted and longed for since he had left the family at eighteen.

Well, “left” wasn’t really the right word for it now, was it? It implied a voluntary act, and his leaving wasn’t so voluntary.

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Colter countered, laughing. “It’s just, you know… dental hygienist in a motel hot tub springs to mind.”

“Okay, alright… You done?” Russell huffed, shaking his head. He refrained from showing his honest amusement. “You’re gonna follow her in or not?”

“Alright, I’ll go,” Colter finally agreed somewhat enthusiastically and jumped out of the car, swiftly following the woman inside. After all, he was curiouser and curiouser…

Russell kept his eyes trained on his younger brother until Colter vanished inside the post office. Now, it was out of his hands, only hoping his little brother wouldn’t blow it. Chances were high he would. Not that Russell didn’t have some faith.

He just had more faith in you.

Colter spotted you picking up mail from a PO box and decided on a plan of action in a matter of seconds. After all, he was quick thinking on his feet and the best at what he did. That’s why he was here. That’s why Russell had picked him for the job, right?

As you made your way back to the door, Colter eloquently intercepted you without disturbing the crowd. Another thing he had learned from his father.

He bumped straight into your shoulder and almost tackled you to the ground by the sheer force of his sneak attack. The mail in your hands scattered to the tiled floor like autumn leaves, and as Colter bent down to help you pick it up, he took a peek at your name on a postcard.

“Oh my God, would you look at that… I’m so sorry, Miss–,” the younger Shaw apologized clumsily, “Nora Laurier.” He uttered your name with a suave smile as he handed you back your pile of letters. The flirt in his eyes, however, he only added for Russell as revenge for Reenie. “Beautiful name.”

Your hands lingered on the letters between you for a moment as you took in his features and tall stature. It left you with a strange haunting of familiarity.

“Thank you,” you finally said with a hint of a smile as he let go of the mail. “Be more careful next time.”

“I will. Sorry again.” Colter chuckled with blushed cheeks and watched you leave. He waited till you had passed the row of windows before exiting himself.

He was a good actor, too.

Antsy, Russell almost bit his lip bloody as he stared the post office down till a migraine began to form. God, what he wouldn’t pay for some X-ray vision and super-hearing. He could be downright Superman with that – and the hero always got the girl.

His heart dithered anew with longing as you walked out – it took his breath away. You always did that, and you did it well. But then, you stopped short for a mere second, which wouldn’t have caused a civilian to raise a single brow. But Russell did.

“Shit…” he mumbled in the silence of the truck and lowered himself down to the dashboard. He watched you reach for your phone in your purse and call someone as you headed down the street.

Eventually, you stopped three houses east and finished your call in the shade of a tree next to a busy (and noisy) bus station. Russell caught your eyes drifting back to the doors of the post office, though, just as his little brother walked out and jogged towards the car.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Russell ducked even further down, hitting his head in several places. “What did that knucklehead do?”

The driver’s door opened as Colter casually slipped inside. “Got a name,” he announced victoriously. Part of his happiness emanated from gathering yet another puzzle piece of his mysterious brother – meeting you. “She goes by Nora Laurier now… And she seems nice. Way too nice for you, actually…” As he drifted off, his eyes searched for the elder one before finding him almost kissing the floor mat. “Russ, uh… What-, uh, what are you doing down there?”

“What the hell did you do?” Russell’s tone was both snappy and frustrated.

“Whoa, what d’you mean what did I do?” Colter waved off defensively. “I did what you told me to do!”

“She made you!”

“She did not make me,” Colter brushed off with a laugh, quite confident of his own skill set. They’d had the same teacher. He would know if you had suspected anything.

“Then why did she wait and look after you, huh?” Russell pointed out in annoyance.

Colter’s lips itched to break a smile. He couldn’t help it. It was the perfect opportunity to teach his flirt of a brother a well-needed lesson. “Well, maybe I caught her eye… piqued her interest, you know?”

Russell cocked a brow from below, his stare lethal. “Did you flirt with her?”

Colter hesitated for a moment. Mostly for dramatic effect. “I-, uh… You told me to get her name. ‘Sides, I told you Reenie was off limits.”

“Oh, so this is about revenge? Very mature.” Russell frowned. “She still there?”

“Where?” Colter stretched himself a bit as he looked out the windshield.

“Tree. Bus station.”

An amused smile formed on Colter’s lips as he spotted you. “Oh, yeah. I see her. I don’t think she suspects anything. She’s not even loo-… No, uh, wait… Yup.”

“What?” Russell’s brows drew together as he rose a little from his crouched position.

“Yeah, she’s definitely looking over here.”

“Well, stop looking down,” Russell hissed through gritted teeth. After a deep breath, he spoke in a calmer, more advising tone, “Pretend I’m not here.”

“Trying to, trust me… Should I wave at her? Smile?”

“Are you nuts?! Just look ahead. Pretend you’re getting a phone call.”

Colter did as he was told and held his phone to his ear. “She’s still looking,” he informed with a pressed smile, barely moving his mouth when he spoke.

“Okay, what’s she doing now?”

“There’s a-, uh, there’s a car coming and pulling over by the bus station. Dark gray Audi A6. Virginia Plates. Yankee-Papa-Charlie-5824,” Colter said as Russell hauled a pen from his pocket and began to jot down the plate numbers on his left palm.

“Copy that.”

He’d memorize them anyway, but one could never be too safe. He could get a concussion in the next hour or so (most likely because of you), and then what?

“Okay, she’s getting in,” Colter narrated. “Driver’s in his late-thirties. Male. Glasses. Medium height. Medium build… I think you could take him,” he added with a teasing grin.

“Shut up,” Russell retorted. “Are they gone now?”

“Pulling away from the curb and… Yep, they’re gone. Headed south down the road,” Colter affirmed.

“Alright.” Russell popped back into his seat with a sigh and some sore muscles. He had been sure he’d heard a few bones crack while he’d been cowering down there. He might be finally getting too old for these missions. But that was part of the reason why he was here in the first place – retirement was calling. And Russell wanted to fill the chair next to him on the porch.

“You good?” Colter checked and choked the small laugh that wanted to escape upon the ruffled sight of his older brother.

“Yeah, go ahead and follow them. Just keep a low profile,” Russell instructed. “On our way, you might wanna call your op analyst, too. See what he can find out.”

“Alright,” Colter agreed somewhat reluctantly but still tailed the sedan. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“What d’you mean?” Russell said mindlessly, keeping his eyes focused on the target vehicle.

“Us… stalking your ex-girlfriend?” Colter noted with a cocked brow. “And her potentially new boyfriend?”

Russell only laughed at that. “We’re good. Trust me.”

Admittedly, though, a small part of him wondered (and worried) if this was all real. Maybe Nora Laurier wasn’t your real name, but it might be your actual new one – one you’d adopted as a safety precaution after you’d left it all behind. Maybe you had finally done it and retired, found a perfectly normal guy, and settled down – just without him.

Or:

Maybe you were still in the game, after all.

Russell was hoping it was the latter. Otherwise, he could probably expect a hefty restraining order in his future, but he wasn’t about to tell Colter that. Not until he knew for sure.

The Audi parked in front of an organic grocery store a few blocks down. Colter chose a spot across the parking lot, keeping a reasonable distance with the perfect view. Russell watched as you and Unnamed Man #1 sauntered into the store, an arm slung tightly around your waist and a smile on your face.

While on the phone with Bobby, Colter could tell that the sight of you in another man’s arms stung. “Okay, uh, thanks, Bobby.”

“What’d he say?” Russell fired as soon as Colter had removed the phone even just an inch from his ear.

“Uh, well, there’s some bad news,” Colter revealed hesitantly and licked his lips, not knowing how he was supposed to break his brother’s heart. “Bobby ran the plate number through the DMV. It’s registered to an Aiden Laurier.”

“Laurier?” Undeniably, Russell’s heart flinched at the connection. “Maybe a brother. Cousin…”

Or a colleague, Russell’s mind stubbornly added.

Colter bit his lower lip hard before he spoke, “They’ve been married for two years. I’m sorry, Russ.”

A hand comfortingly patted Russell’s shoulder. A part of him wanted to scream heavenward, but something else inside was gnawing on him.

He clicked his tongue. “No… No.” Sure, one could argue that denial was always the first step of grief. “No. No way she married sweater-vest John Mulaney over there.”

“I’m pretty sure she did. Bobby sent me the marriage certificate,” Colter countered and showed him the screenshot on his phone.

Russell glanced at it for a short second, not even bothering to waste more time on fake news. He shook his head. He knew better.

“Nah. I’m not buying it. You need to go in there and tell me what you see.” He sealed his words with an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Colter exhaled deeply. “Russ, I-, uh, I think you need to let this go, man. You’re starting to… Never mind.”

“No. Go ahead. Say it,” Russell prompted with some thunder in his voice. “I’m reminding you of Dad, don’t I?”

Colter only twitched his shoulders. “I mean, yeah. A little.”

Russell’s head bobbed in thought before he met his little brother’s eyes. “You really don’t see it?”

“See what?”

“The post office, the road crew over there, the-, the fake documents?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“C’mon… Just think about everything Dad taught us, huh?”

Was Colter really not getting it? Russell found that quite hard to believe. He had known his little brother to be as sharp as a whip. While Russell didn’t always have the nicest things to say about their father, he could admit the old man had prepared them well for life. Well, one life at least. This one.

The nomad life, the odd jobs that required them to have a particular set of skills like Liam Neeson.

Colter shook his head. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Russell.”

Russell let out a sigh and leaned back in his seat. “Alright, if you don’t see it, you don’t see it.” A smirk twitched in the corners of his lips. “It’s your funeral, brother…”

With narrowed eyes, Colter pursed his lips. “Alright, just tell me one thing, okay?”

“You know I can’t tell you anything,” Russell reiterated and brushed his beard.

“I know. I know… It’s not that kinda question,” the younger Shaw reassured.

“Go ahead,” Russell relented and curiously looked at his brother.

Within a second, Russell could think of a million questions Colter might want to ask him, but this hadn’t been one of them:

“In the past three years, how many times have you thought about her? And I don’t just mean ‘crossed your mind’ every couple of months. I mean ‘seriously thought’ about her?”

“Hmm.” Russell pondered for a moment before replying, “Every damn day.”

It wasn’t a lie, no omission of anything, and Colter could tell. You were the first thought that popped into Russell’s still groggy mind when he woke up and the last one every night that fluttered across his weary eyelids. Obviously, he didn’t give Colter the soppy answer, though.

“Fine. I’ll go,” Colter softened his stance. “You owe me,” he added with a pointed finger before setting foot outside the car.

“I do owe you. Anything you want, brother,” Russell agreed with a broad grin. “How about we start with a full case of my homebrew, huh?”

Colter danced gracefully through the aisles, spying through canned goods and boxes of cereal. He watched you carefully select fruit with your husband, move through the dairy talking about “organic” and “locally sourced” till you landed on a few choices of toothpaste and finally strolled to the cash register.

Everything seemed boringly normal and ordinary. You chatted with the cashier. They handed you a coupon, which you slipped into your purse. Your husband paid with his credit card (which carried the same name matching the DMV records), and both of you left the store with two paper bags in your arms.

Once through the sliding glass doors, you stopped and turned to your husband. “Darn, honey, I think we forgot the milk.”

“You want me to grab it?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“Okay, I’ll wait by the car and load the rest of the groceries.”

Now, Colter found that odd. He had watched you spent at least five minutes in the dairy aisle. How could you forget something as basic as milk?

As you hushed inside, your husband sauntered back to the car, and Colter followed you back in. You passed right by the dairy and, with a few looks that resembled a scan of your surroundings, you slipped past the door that led to the restrooms.

Waiting a beat, Colter went in after you. But you were long gone – just not to the restroom. An ‘Employee Only’ door that led to a dumpster alley outside was just falling shut.

Granted, Colter had a bad feeling about this. It was the same feeling he always got shortly before walking into a trap. In his defense, though, you were not a seven-foot-tall, 300-pound kind of guy. He wasn’t about to be ambushed by Shaquille O’Neal, which is probably why Colter didn’t find it necessary to pull his gun.

In hindsight, he should have.

The narrow alley was quiet and empty, except for some trash littering the ground around the dumpsters. It was closed-off, too, wedged between buildings with no view to the parking lot or nearby streets.

And then, something hit him. Or better yet: You hit him. With an elbow to the face and a stiff, flat palm to his throat, Colter stumbled forward before you gave him the final blow and knocked him off balance, tackling him to the ground.

Pressing his cheek into the rough and unforgiving surface of the asphalt, you jumped on him and restrained his arms tightly behind his back. While he squirmed to get out of your hold, he didn’t use as much brutal force as you expected he would.

“Shit,” he muttered below you, his voice muffled by the gravel. A light chuckle escaped him. “Okay, you got me.”

“Sounds about right,” you agreed with a smirk and tightened your grip on his arm.

Then, Colter heard a gun click above him. Hoping to see his brother, he looked up – only to find your husband with a weapon in hand as he stared down the barrel.

“Ah, I think you broke my nose,” the younger Shaw mumbled with a groan.

“Good. You’ve been following me. Why?” you prompted sternly. “Who are you? Who are you working for? Jafari? Mueller?”

“Listen, I-I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not who you think I am,” Colter argued with a strained voice. What the hell had Russell gotten him into? “This is just a big misunderstanding.”

“Uh-huh.” You could only roll your eyes at that. How many times had you heard that line before?

“Let’s hood him. Get him to the Market,” your partner suggested. “We’ll see if he talks then.”

“No, really,” Colter insisted, growing a bit more uneasy. He had no idea what the Market was, but it didn’t sound pleasant. “You know my brother.”

“Who’s your brother?” With your elbow, you put more pressure on his back.

“Ow, alright…” Colter groaned once more as the pain intensified. “Looks kinda like me. Think two decades younger. He was in the Army, so probably didn’t have long hair and a beard. Uh, kind… green eyes? No? Doesn’t ring a bell?”

Colter watched your brow furrow in his periphery as he squinted upwards. He could see the gears starting to turn in your head. You just needed one final push to put all the puzzle pieces together.

“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”

“Shaw,” you shot like a missile. Your jaw plummeted to the ground, your heart springing right out with it. Your grip on the man caught between your thighs loosened, hearing Colter’s sigh of relief before you heard his voice.

“Hiya, sweetheart.”

Your head darted up, the man beneath you long forgotten. You swallowed as your eyes landed on an all too familiar face – even when it was covered by a bunch of hair that had never been there before. The heart-crushing smile was still the same as if it had been ripped straight from an old photograph you had of him.

“Russell?!”

Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission

Quite the entrance! Writing Russell reminded me somewhat of Plastic Hearts Dean (minus the addiction problems unless you count lying) because of all the wild overthinking 😂

If you enjoyed this story, then I'll gladly keep working on its prequel. Was a bit nervous to post this since I filled in some family history gaps myself 😅 I also dove into the books a little and added some things that kinda fit their "show" personalities.

Please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in a young soldier!Russell series 😉🤍

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[kyokutsu-sama]

Hiiii how are you doing my dear? I hope that you're taking care of yourself and not overworking yourself 😊 it's my first time requesting so I'm sorry if I didn't do it right english is not my mother language so sorry 😭 anyway I just want to put this idea in here because it was stuck in my head for a while and I really love your writing it always makes my day better everytime I read one of your works, so the thought is bleach men (especially kenpachi this thought come in the first place because of him😭) having a cute aggression everytime they see their wife because damn how a woman can be this cute and pretty all the time that they can't help themselves 😭😭(plz take your time and don't overwork yourself you can ignore it if you want it's ok I just want to tell you how much I love you and your work 🥺💗🫂).

Hi!! @thebestgirlever2 I'm doing very well and I hope you're doing well too. First of all, your English is very good and don't worry because English is not my native language either and secondly, I'm very happy that you like my work here. It motivates me a lot and thank you for your affection🥹❤️❤️

So here's the thing, at this moment I wasn't writing for the Bleach fandom but I decided to make some exceptions (as I also mentioned in the post about requests) and since it's also your first time making a request, I decided to write it.

I hope this is what you had in mind and I hope you like it😊 I wrote to my big boys just to see their hearts soften with so much cuteness🤭

Characthers : Kenpachi, Shunsui, Kensei, Grimmjow

🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️

Kenpachi :

Our giant and brute Kenpachi was constantly in an internal battle when he saw you do something. Even if it was the simplest thing in the world, his heart would melt because he found you so cute. He didn't usually admit it out loud even though you were his wife, but your expression, your looks, everything was so clear that everyone could see it. Yachiro pointed it out several times, but he just made a face and grumbled. "Y/n is so cute and you know it too. Admit it!" She said, pulling on the sleeve of his kimono trying to get his attention "Yes, she really is." He thought, looking at the girl and seeing her playful air

Yumichika and Ikkaku also noticed the way he blushed slightly when you greeted him with a smile that made his heart of stone melt and made the man's bloodlust dry up. Deep down, he liked this effect on him. One day he was sitting on the porch watching you tend to some flowers in the garden. Your hands were small and soft compared to his, which were large and calloused, your face so focused and fragile as you worked, your long, flowery sundress that matched the garden around you. He clenched his fist, feeling angry at all the cuteness in front of him. "How is it possible to be so..." He thought, trying to restrain himself from going to you and picking you up, hugging you and holding you close to him But the voices in his head won out and he got up and went to do what his thoughts wanted. You got up and suddenly saw a large silhouette blocking the sun and when you turned around you saw him with his usual serious face, but little did you know that he was finding you so cute now. "Oh Kenpachi, you were there! I didn't even realize that--" You hadn't finished speaking and he was already lifting you off the ground for a hug and squeezing you in his arms. "Kenny, what are you doing?!" You said breathlessly due to the squeeze. "Nothing." He said, pulling your face away from his chest for a moment to show you an innocent look "Nothing? You're crushing me against you." You giggled "What? You looked really cute just now." He said, rolling his eyes and you laughed "Oh! Looks like my arrogant giant is finally letting his guard down. How cute!" You poked his cheek and he turned his face away "Shut up." He grumbled and you smiled

Shunsui :

He just can't stand it. You look so beautiful and so cute in everything you do, in the way you walk and even the way you breathe. He never makes a point of hiding how cute you are and how important you are to him. Your gentleness and your smile were what captivated him the most. Nanao was already fed up with having to hear him praise you, every five minutes. "Yes, Captain, you've said that several times." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "No, I don't think you understand. She's wonderfully cute." He said again "Here we go again..." One day he was coming home after work (not that he really did much besides drinking sake and sleeping) and when he entered the room and saw you sleeping so deeply in bed, wrapped in the sheets, so quiet and asleep, his heart melted. "My petal looks so cute, sleeping like an angel." He said with both hands on his chest and with a little laugh He approached you, caressing your sleeping face, wanting to pinch your cheeks after an episode of 'cute aggression' but he restrained himself not to wake you up. "How can she be so cute." He thought He took off his flowery kimono and lay down next to you, pulling you close to him in a tight hug, distributing kisses from your shoulders to your cheeks. You moved a little and he stopped immediately. "No, no, no! Go back to sleep, don't wake up, you're sleeping very well. Very very well, petal." He said, caressing your face and you, still asleep, turned to him to hug him "That's right, dear. I don't want to wake you up."He said, giving you one last kiss on the cheek before going back to sleep Damn, I already missed writing a little about him😭

Grimmjow:

This man definitely changed from a panther to a kitten when he met you. And after marriage, it intensified. He still remembers the way you were always pushing his buttons and the way he lost his mind when you did it, but later he realized that he didn't have the courage to do anything about it. Yes, he would grumble and tell you to shut the fuck up, but he wouldn't yell or insult you. You had an effect on him that started to irritate him in the early days, but after he realized that he was in love, he started to feel more at ease. Of course, he was still too proud to admit that you were so cute, but so cute that he just wanted to hug you close to him and give you a ton of bites (love bites cause he's a kitty🐈). One day you were in the kitchen preparing something to eat when you heard the front door open. Grimmjow was mad after having crossed paths with Ichigo. His rival. "That idiot, I swear, one day I'm going to beat the shit ou of that son of a b--" He entered the kitchen, furious, screaming, and when he was going to punch the wall to release his anger, he noticed that you were standing there in the corner and his fist was only a few inches from the wall, which prevented it from being destroyed. Seeing you so quiet and cute, looking at him made him quickly recover and look away in embarrassment. You also couldn't help but be curious to know what had made him like that. Deep down you knew that it had probably been something very trivial because it didn't take much to make this man angry. "Are you okay?" You asked, approaching him. "You seem a little angry right now. Did something happen?" "No, it's okay, don't worry. It's all sorted out." "Seriously? Because it really seemed like you cross paths with Ichigo again." "Oh, don't say that name..." He growled, closing his eyes and clenching his fists "Okay, okay, I won't say the name again. Fine!" You said, raising your hands in surrender "Thanks." "But other than that, how was your day? Did you need anything? Are you feeling tired?" You said with a smile that made his heart soften and his tough personality fall He stared at you for a while, admiring your expression and you looked at him a little confused by his silence. "Is everything okay?" You poked his cheek and he nodded before pulling you into a tight hug "Stay here for at least five minutes, okay?" He asked and you nodded against his chest You didn't know what had made him do that so suddenly, but one thing was for sure, it was all he wanted at that moment to be able to calm down.

Kensei :

Another one who has a tough personality but always has a cute aggression attack when you pass by him or you've only been together for five minutes. Mashiro used to tease him about it when she noticed it. "You and Y/n make a really cute couple. I can see how you look at her and your cheeks get blushed. But Kensei, you two are already married, why do you keep blushing like a teenager?" She said, laughing at him and he clenched his fist, one of his eyes twitching and feeling a vein bulging in his neck "Shut up you idiot! Stop teasing me!!" He yelled and she laughed even harder seeing that she had managed to get him out of his mind Deep down, he knew she was right. You really got to him even though you two were married. He looked at you and always thought you were cute. One day he was coming home and saw you sitting on the couch watching TV, but as he got closer he saw that you were sleeping sitting up. You probably ended up falling asleep watching TV while you waited for him. He felt a little guilty about it, but it was his job. As much as he wanted to be close to you, it was hard sometimes. He turned off the TV and took the pillow that was on your lap, picking you up bridal style, slowly so you wouldn't wake up. When he got to the bedroom, he put you on the bed and that's when you woke up, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you. "Did I wake you up?" He asked "I let myself fall asleep in the living room, didn't I?" You asked, yawning "Yes, and I brought you back to the bedroom. I'm sorry I was late." He said, running his hand over your face and looking away "It's okay, love. I know it's your job. I wanted to wait for you, but I couldn't. I ended up falling asleep." You held his hand He looked at you and seeing your sweet smile and the way you were always so understanding, made him want to hug you and not let go until the next day. "Come to sleep, you look tired." You said he just nodded, taking off his clothes and lying down next to you "Come here." He pulled you to him and held you in a tight hug against him, letting out a long sigh. "This is what I needed." He whispered and you patted his arm "Kensei, I can't breathe properly." Your voice was muffled by the closeness and that was when he released you a little so you could breath properly. "I'm sorry, honey, it's just that you... seemed too cute just now." He confessed with a blush on his face and you giggled "You too, your cheeks are blushing." You pointed and he hugged you again so you wouldn't see. "Kensei." You fidgeted "Shut up." He grumbled

[tinybeetiny]

Sit and Watch How It’s Done: J.Y

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

I don't really know where I got this idea from.... I think this might be one of the longest things I’ve ever written… I hope it lived up to the expectations and I’m so sorry if it didn’t 🥹

->Starring: YunhoXAfab!Reader, brother!San, boyfriend!Mingi

->Genre: Little bit of angst, Smut

->Cw: Explicit language, unprotected sex, cheater Mingi, MIngi refers to reader as girlfriend still, cuckold Mingi!!???, Yunho is a little manipulative!!?!!, mean Yunho, big dick Yunho, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, praise, degradation, slight dacryphilia, creampie, squirting, multiple orgasms, let me know if I missed anything

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

You walked through the lobby of the grand hotel that your boyfriend was staying. He’s been on tour for 5 months and you missed him tremendously. With the help of your brother you were able to surprise him in the next city they were going to but what you didn’t know was that he was going to give you a surprise of your own.

You make your way down the hall with a room key in hand, your steps bouncy with anticipation. You missed Mingi and you couldn’t wait to see him again. You loved your phone calls and facetimes with him but they weren't enough. You longed to be in his presence again and now that you were so close the long hallway seemed to stretch on forever. But as you approached the door you felt some hesitance. Would he be happy to see you? Of course he would, he would constantly tell you over the phone that he was counting down the days until he could be with you again. You heard some commotion on the other side of the door but you just assumed that Yunho or someone was in there with him.

You use the keycard to unlock the door and you push open the door but when you finally set your eyes on Mingi the sight knocks the wind out of you. There was your boyfriend in all of his glory fucking some random girl from the back. They hadn't noticed you yet until your bag hit the ground. Mingi's head whipped around ready to tell off whoever barged into his room but his face dropped when he saw you standing in the doorway "Oh my god" he whispered out. You say nothing, picking up your bag and turning to leave. Mingi scrambles to his feet trying to put his boxers back on while rushing over to stop you from leaving "Baby wait" He grabs your arm stopping you in your tracks. You rip your arm away

"Get off me. How could you?" Your voice raises and you feel hot tears flood into your eyes "I'm sorry. Please just hear me out" He begs but his words make you angry.

Hear him out? Is he serious? You glare at him momentarily before you yell "SAN" You walk across the hall banging on your brother's door "SAN" you yell again and Mingi begins to panic "No no no" But he's a little late. San swings open the door with alarm and the first thing he sees is your distraught face and Mingi's terrified expression "What the hell is going on?" San's question is answered when the girl bolts out of the room fully dressed.

It's quiet for a minute, no one saying anything or moving. The tension was so thick that Mingi felt like he was going to pass out. Finally, San takes a small step forward "Mingi?" San's voice is eerily quiet and it makes the taller boy take a big step back. He's never seen San so enraged and he wanted nothing more than to shrink back into his room. Then everything happened so fast. San lunged at Mingi, the two slamming back into the hotel room door "YOU PIECE OF SHIT" "SAN STOP" "I'M SORRY" Your loud voices cause the others to come out of their rooms. "San what the fuck" Jongho rushes over to try and pull San off Mingi. Seonghwa runs over to help Jongho. You feel an arm wrap around your shoulder and you look up to see Yunho as he pulls you into his chest. You lean into him, his warmth dulling the ache slightly.

Yunho ushers you into his room as Seonghwa and Jongho try to hold San back. Their voices muffle as Yunho closes the door and urges you to sit on the bed. You sniffle as a couple more tears slip down your cheeks. "Oh angel, don't cry." He coos as he kneels in front of you, his thumb brushing the tears away. You sniffle again as you stare at him with teary eyes. He watches as a tear runs down your cheeks and can't help but strain tight in his pants. He knows he shouldn't feel this way, especially considering the circumstances but he thinks you are absolutely breathtaking when you cry. The way your wet eyelashes hit your cheekbones when you blink. He can't help but imagine how the same teary eyes would look with his cock shoved down your throat.

The soft sounds of your cries bring him out of his thoughts "You're too pretty to cry over men like him" Maybe it was your broken heart doing the thinking but as you stare into Yunho's eyes you feel a little flutter. You've never really looked at him like this before always being blinded by Mingi but now your vision has been tainted. Something about the comforting hand on your thigh and the way he looks at you with such intense eyes causes a surge of warmth to shoot through you.

You're not sure who leaned in first but the feeling of Yunho's soft lips on yours is all you can focus on. The kiss starts off slow, almost like he's testing the waters but when your hand comes up to grip the collar of his shirt his self-control starts to waiver. You pull him in closer deepening the kiss and a little moan gets caught in your throat. He pulls away, breathless "Sorry, that was inappropriate” he’s not sorry. “I should go. Give you some space to breathe.” He gets up to leave but your hand shoots and grabs ahold of his wrist “Please don’t leave” you whimper. He stares into your big doe eyes “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay” his tone is low, he knows what he’s doing, he knows exactly what he’s doing. With your emotional state and how you reacted to the kiss, he knew he had you right he wanted you. Ever since he met you he’s been infatuated, almost drawn to you but you were Mingi’s and he couldn’t betray his best friend like that. But with what just happened how could he let a perfectly good opportunity slip through his fingers.

“No please. I want to feel something other than hurt right now” you plead hoping he would give you what you wanted. “I can’t do that to Mingi” yes he can. Yunho liked you first, Mingi knew that, he knew all too well “Fuck Mingi. Please Yunho. I need this” you tug on his wrist. He pauses, acting as if he’s thinking it over before he leans down pressing his lips to yours again as he gently lays you down on the bed. You sigh into the kiss and your hands come up, entangling themselves in his pretty brown locks.

You feel dizzy and can only focus on how good his lips feel as they make their way down your neck. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt "Please touch me" you beg as he nips at the skin right under your ear "Tell me where" He whispers. You grab his hand and place it on your breast, letting out a sigh when he squeezes slightly. He slips your shirt off and your nipples harden in the cold hotel air. He leans down taking one of your perk buds in his mouth and your back arches slightly, a little moan leaving your lips. He switches the other nipple before he trails kisses down to the waistband of your sweatpants. He looks up at you asking for permission with his eyes, you nod your head and he wastes no time pulling your pants along with your underwear off.

His intense stare has you squirming and you're suddenly fully aware that you're completely exposed but before you can move to cover yourself he dips his head licking up your slit. You let a high-pitched whine when he attaches his lips to your clit. Your hand grips his hair, holding on for dear life as you grind against his face. You gasp out when you feel his fingers slide in. His eyes nearly roll when he feels your tight walls squeezing his fingers so well and he can only imagine how good they'll feel around his cock. He continues to lick and suck at your sensitive nub as his fingers abuse your g-spot. Your moans come out one after the other as your stomach tightens and your hole flutters around his skillful fingers "You gonna cum for me?" you nod your head vigorously pulling him back to your needy pussy. Your eyes roll back as you cum all over his tongue, which he happily cleans up.

He continues to suck on your clit helping you ride through your orgasm until you're pushing his head away from overstimulation. He pulls away, spit and cum covering his chin "You okay" You give him weak thumbs up "Wanna taste you now" you mumble and he helps you sit up and takes his own sit next to you "You don't have to you, you know that?" he reassures you "Mmm I want to"

Your knees dig into the rough carpet as you settle between Yunho's long legs. You stare at his bulge that strains painfully in his jeans. You reach to unbutton his jeans before pulling them down his legs. You palm him through his boxers, your mouth waters feeling how hard he is. You grab the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, his cock springing free and slapping his stomach "So big" you whisper staring at his pretty pink tip. He smirks down at you as you take his girthy base into your hands. You place a small kiss on the head of his cock and he sucks in a breath when you give it a little lick. You wrap your lips around his mushroom tip and slowly move down his shaft. You stare up at him as he hits the back of your throat and tears gather in your eyes as you gag. "Oh fuck, that's it." He moans. His hand holds the back of your head, guiding you up and down. He revels in the way the tears stream down your cheeks as you continue to choke on his cock.

“(Y/n) are you in here? Please let me ex-” Mingi's words are cut off when he walks into the room and sees you on your knees choking on Yunho’s cock. He watches as Yunho grips the comforter below him, head thrown back and his lips parted. The sound of your gagging and lewd slurping fills his ears “What the fuck” Mingi’s words come out slow. You jump at his voice, trying to pull off Yunho but his large hand comes down and keeps you in place. He takes your hair in a makeshift ponytail, helping you bob your head up and down “No need to stop for him Angel. Come on, you’re doing so good” He looks up and stares into Mingi’s surprised eyes "What? You want to take a picture? Maybe watch?" Yunho teases trying to hold back a moan. Mingi doesn't know who to look at right now, you with Yunho dick shoved down your throat or Yunho who has you swallowing his dick.

He's not sure what possessed him to move but the next thing he knew he found himself sitting in the corner chair watching Yunho cum down his girlfriend's throat. He watches as Yunho pushes your head down as he thrusts his hips up making you gag “Just like that. Suck my cock just like that, such a good girl” He stares at Mingi as he bites his lip, antagonizing him. Mingi felt his leg bounce in irritation not wanting to continue looking at the scene in front of him but he just could not tear his eyes away. I mean it's not like either of you tied Mingi to the chair, he was free to get up and leave whenever he wanted but yet he stayed glued to his seat.

Yunho lifts your head off and pulls you up to lay you on the bed. His soft lips move feverishly against your own. He grabs the base of his cock rubbing it through the wetness, spreading it around. Your brain goes fuzzy when he slips and you let a little cry when he pushes his fat tip into your dripping hole, the stretching making your eyes roll. Mingi has to physically restrain the moan from escaping him just from hearing how wet you are. He adjusts in his seat, his jeans feeling tight.

The air deflates from your lungs as he pushes his cock in inch by inch. He lets out a deep groan when he bottoms out "Fuck Yunho you're so big" You whimper out. You’ve never been this full. Sure Mingi's big but Yunho was a whole different story. The way your walls mold to each ridge and vein, like he was made for you "So tight, squeezing me so good" His eyes screwed shut. He slowly pulls out and you clench around his tip trying to keep him from escaping “Patience” he looks over at Mingi whose face is full of anger but his eyes hold desperation. Your mouth falls open when sheaths himself back in.

He starts off with a slow pace, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. The sound of Mingi’s heavy breath fills the room and it only encourages Yunho to speed up his pace. The sound of the lewd squelching of your pussy bounces off the wall and Yunho gets lost in the softness of your walls. He takes your legs and throws them over his shoulders, pushing on the little bugle of your tummy. Your mouth opens and little gasps are the only noises that come out. "I love your pussy, taking me so good" The way he looks down at you with lust filled eyes makes you clench around him. The burning sensation grows in your stomach again and he pushes closer to the edge "Oh fuck Yunho. You're gonna make me cum" Your voice raises a couple notches and your back arches as you cum all over his cock. He groans, feeling your needy little hole trying to milk him.

He continues to fuck into you, not giving you any time to recover. His thumb brushes over your clit and your body jolts as you cry out, tears running down your face. You whine as you try and push him away but he grabs your hands and pins them over your head, his hips somehow moving even faster. You feel another orgasm approaching and you feel absolutely spent “M’gonna cum again.” Your fingernails dig into this arms as the pleasure takes over “Oh my god” You throw your head back as another orgasm rushes over you "That's it baby cum all over my cock. Lookin so pretty. So fucked dumb" His cock slides in faster due to the extra lubrication. His arms hook under your knees, pressing your thighs to your chest and the new position has your eyes rolling back.

His forehead rests against yours as he fucks you deep. "Did he ever make you cum like this hm?" You barely comprehend his question as his hips move faster. You shake your head "Wow Min, you can't even make your girlfriend cum and yet you think you're good enough to cheat tsk tsk tsk" If there was ever a time Mingi wished the ground would swallow him whole it would be now and to make things worse his dick was painfully hard, the scene in front of him hotter than he'd like to admit. He knew he should be furious watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend but after his actions, he had no right. So he stayed in the chair, gripping the armrest so tight his knuckles turned white. He's never heard you moan like this before and he hates it. He watches as Yunho pulls another orgasm out of you. He watches the way your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a beautiful chorus of noises escape "That's it Angel, doing so good for me" Yunho praises.

The overstimulation washes over and a high-pitched whine escapes you “S’too much YuYu please” you push on his stomach in an attempt to get him to slow down ‘YuYu!?’ Mingi’s eyes narrowed at the nickname. Hot burning jealousy bubbled deep within him but again who is he to sit there and feel some type of way when he, just mere moments ago, hurt you in ways he couldn’t even imagine. But what better karma than to sit and watch your best friend fuck your girlfriend way better than you ever could.

“Yunho wait. Slow down” you gasp for air as you feel pressure building up again. “Just a little bit longer. Almost there” he gritted out. His paces started to get sloppy as he felt himself getting closer. His thumb rubs small circles on your clit trying to draw out another orgasm "Yunho wait, fuck stop" Your eyes widen in panic but before you can push him away your eyes roll back and you gush all over his lower half, soaking the sheets below you. You thighs shake and you let out a small scream. Both men stare in shock as you lay there, chest heaving. They watch as your body twitches from the new sensation.

“You want me to cum in you? Fill your sweet little pussy full of me?” You nod dumbly, your brain turned to mush as his hips continue their brutal pace. He lets out low groan as he spills into you. He pulls out and watches his cum pool out of you. He looks over at Mingi with a small smile “What’s the matter Min? You look like you’ve seen a ghost” Mingi doesn’t say anything, he really doesn’t know what to say honestly. But the look on his face is very satisfying “Maybe you should call that girl to uh fix your problem there” Yunho gestures to Mingi’s hard on and the little wet patch on his jeans.

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[cognitiveoverload]

Nobody got you the way I do (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: One of your employees turns out to be a serial killer, and the BAU suspects that he might want to hurt you too, so they want to make sure you're safe. Hotch takes it a little too seriously, and there's a reason for that.

note: I'm not so sure about this one, I don't know why. But this is the robotics expert!CEO!reader story I mentioned in the poll.

tags: afab!reader, overprotective!Hotch, brat tamer!Hotch?

wc: 5.4k

“I told you not to bother me today.”

Your assistant, Lizzie, is the only one at this company who spends the entire day in high heels, which is why the familiar clicking sound lets you know it’s her who entered your private lab. Since you know who it is, you don’t even look up from the prosthetic arm you have lying on the table in front of you, connected to your laptop to spend the day fixing the damn thing. A deadline is coming up, and you took charge of this pet project of yours, this is why you are dead serious when you ask your employees to respect your request to leave you alone for now. 

She lets out a hesitant hum as she steps closer to you, leaning down so you can hear her clearly even when she speaks quietly. “Two FBI agents are here to see you. They said it was important,” she tells you. 

Letting out an annoyed sigh, you look up to find two men standing there in the room. One of them is young, maybe a few years younger than you, and his eyes are focused on the prototype you’re working on. The other? Now, that’s an interesting situation. The other agent in question is someone you have met before, at a party over half a year ago, when he helped you talk to a suicidal acquaintance who decided to pick that night to jump off the roof of the building. Unlike his colleague’s, his eyes are fixed on you, making you feel like you’re currently being studied under a microscope. 

“Gentlemen, what can I do for you?” you ask casually, folding your hands on the table. 

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, this is Dr. Reid,” the older man begins, pretending not to know you. Well, if that’s how he wants to play, you’re happy to join the game. “Your company showed up as a link between the victims in a series of murders.” He puts a folder in front of you, waiting until you open it to take a look at the paper inside. “Is there anything they have in common besides being your ex-employees?”

You go through the list of names, and it’s instantly obvious what that thing is. “They were all fired,” you reply as you close the folder and push it back towards them.

Sadly, Hotch knows there’s more to the story, and he’s not afraid to pry for more information. “And? I know there’s something you’re not telling us. Why were they fired?”

“Corporate espionage.” While you don’t want to go into the details and think about these cases again, they both seem interested in hearing what it’s all about, so you let out a sigh and continue. “They were all caught selling confidential information to our competitors or anyone who was willing to pay enough. Classic case, nothing unusual.”

Reid bites his lips as he quickly thinks about something. “What’s the process if you have a case like this? What do you do?” he wonders.

“I usually let my Chief Security Officer take care of it. His name is Jonathan Hayes, he’s been with us since the beginning, so he knows everything about the company. He sits down with the employee in question with HR present, hands over the paperwork, and beside that, he consults the legal department to take care of the rest,” you explain.

“We didn’t find court documents,” Hotch points out. 

With a small smirk, you shrug. “I don’t need scandals. We keep things quiet.” 

The two men look at each other, then, as if there was a silent agreement between them, they excuse themselves and ask for a moment while they discuss something outside. With a shrug, you roll the swivel chair to the side to check something on the laptop, but moments after you begin to tweak the set of codes on the screen, your fingers freeze above the keyboard and your gaze shifts to the glass wall to take a look at them. Whatever they’re talking about, it surely involves you, because every now and then they turn your way. Perfect. They hopefully don’t think you used Hayes as your personal assassin or something.

A few minutes later they finally return, and it’s Reid who speaks up. “Can we talk to Hayes? We have some questions, hopefully he can help us out.”

“He’s on unpaid leave due to some family issue,” you tell them. 

“Since when?” he asks with a frown.

You blow out the air you didn’t even notice you’ve been holding, and lean back in your chair as you think. “He left about a month ago. Why?”

Before Reid can speak up, Hotch takes a deep breath and steps closer to the desk. “Has he tried to contact you since then?” he asks, his voice laced with worry that you’re not sure his colleague can detect. But you notice, you’re painfully aware of it.

“He called a few times, but usually when I was busy doing something else.”

“So you didn’t talk to him?”

“Not really.”

“When was the last time he called you?” 

That one you don’t have to think about. “Three days ago. He called me more and more frequently in the week before that, and since he didn’t stop even after I sent him a text to find my assistant, I decided to block his number until he returns,” you explain. 

Reid turns to his boss when he hears this. “The timeline checks out, and his number being blocked might be what triggered the changes in his method and the messages,” he says quickly. 

There’s a nod of agreement before Hotch turns back to you. “You need to come with us now.” 

“What did I do?”

“Nothing wrong, don’t worry. But Hayes will soon be looking for you, and we’d rather have you somewhere safe until we find him,” he tells you, earning a doubtful look from you. 

Because you have a feeling Hayes stepped up to be their prime suspect, although it simply doesn’t make sense to you. If you don’t count this little phone call issue, your relationship is quite good, and he’s always so nice, so friendly. “He would never hurt anyone,” you tell them, deciding that ignoring them might be the best approach. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to ask you to leave now. I have a lot to do.”

“Listen to me,” you hear Hotch’s hushed voice once he leans over the table, “you’re not safe until we catch him, so put the attitude aside and come with us.”

With a huff, you look back at the screen and begin to type like they weren’t even there. But despite your best effort, his brown eyes are burning a hole into your skull, and you can feel the annoyance that fills him. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say without looking at him.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Stop being a brat,” he tells you angrily. 

“Did you just call me a brat?”

“Hotch?” Reid asks in the background, but he raises a hand to stop him. That doesn’t work, though, because the younger agent realized that he needs to intervene before things get out of hand. “We found messages at the crime scenes, and now that we know the real reason why those employees had been let go, it’s clear Hayes did this to protect you,” he explains.

This gets your attention and you finally look up from the screen to meet his eyes. “To protect me? How does killing them protect me?”

“He’s loyal to you, and he would go to great lengths to make sure you and your company are safe. To him, you’re like a family member he needs to protect,” he says.

Gulping, you pinch the bridge of your nose. “But he’s such a normal guy. Tough, sure, but murdering people?” you note with a desperate laugh. It’s insane, why can’t this madness happen to someone else?

“They often seem harmless,” he offers with a sympathetic smile. “Look, we need a list of the employees who were fired for corporate espionage or other major issues Hayes dealt with in the past.”

“Sure, I’ll ask my assistant to send you the list,” you assure them without hesitation.

But Hotch doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, because he moves around the desk to close your laptop, then helps you up from the chair. “You can make that call from the car. Let’s go,” he says as he lets his hand move to your elbow to lead you toward the door. 

“Wait, I can’t go, I have a deadline, and an interview, and—”

“Now,” he says sternly, leaving no room for an argument. 

For a moment there’s a staring contest between you two, but then out of the corner of your eye you notice Reid’s surprised expression. Maybe this isn’t the time for such an argument, so you put up your hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, just let me get my bag and laptop from my office,” you say as you yank your arm away and take the lead toward the elevator.

On the way out of the building, Reid starts a conversation with you about your work, but it’s hard to focus with Hotch’s hand on the small of your back as he leads you. He doesn’t look at you, and deep down you’re grateful for that. When you get into the car, you sit in the middle of the back seat so it’s easier to keep the chat with the younger agent going, because you’re happy to talk about your little projects with someone who truly appreciates the science behind your innovations. 

He’s intelligent, that one’s clear, and the more you learn about him, the more you feel like in another life you could be friends, and you would probably ask him to work for you too. While the conversation flows freely, you don’t miss the way Hotch looks at you through the rearview mirror every once in a while, so when there’s a little break in the discussion, you take the chance to change the topic a little. 

“Is he always this grumpy?” you ask Reid with a playful smile.

Before he can respond, Hotch rolls his eyes. “I’m not grumpy,” he states. 

“Then serious.”

He exhales slowly, making it clear he has to force himself to stay calm. “I’m chasing serial killers, more people would die if I took my job too lightly,” he explains. 

“So would a smile kill you?” you wonder, deliberately pushing his buttons.

“I think you should—” Reid begins his warning, but the other man is quick to interrupt him.

“No.”

You grab the back of his seat and lean forward to be closer. “Then why don’t you smile?” Hotch groans as he shakes his head, and you take the hint. So, once again, you change the topic as you lean back against the seat. “You know what? I’ll make a few calls and hire a security company to keep an eye on me in my own house, so I don’t need your protection. Also, you said Hayes—if he really is the killer, that is—was looking for employees we let go for certain reasons. As far as I know, I’m still the head of this company.”

Reid turns in his seat as he begins to talk. “Yes, but Hayes is getting impatient, angry, and based on the timeline you told us, it’s related to you ignoring his calls. He will get mad at you and try to punish you for that.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Why?” Hotch asks. 

“Does it really matter?”

“I’m going to ask this one last time—why?”

Your silence gives Reid an idea. “Were you in a romantic relationship with him?”

“God, no, no, it’s just,” you begin, stopping for a moment to think. “He has a family, he’s always so nice to everyone, why would he do that? It can’t be to protect me.”

“His way of thinking isn’t exactly rational anymore,” the younger man begins, flashing an understanding smile at you. “As for the security company, it would be best if you stayed close to us.”

With a sigh, you decide to drop it for now. In fact, you want to let go of the conversation altogether. So, instead of putting up another fight, you unlock your phone and dive into your emails, ignoring the men’s existence for the rest of the ride.

••••••••••

Once on their floor, Reid leads you to an empty office, saying you can use that for the time being. It’s way darker than the office or the lab that you’re used to, but you don’t have the luxury to be picky, there is a lot to do before you can call it a day. The interview was transformed into an online one, the journalist promised to call you a little later, the board meeting that was scheduled for the afternoon was postponed to the day after tomorrow, and you gave yourself a new deadline as the prototype wasn’t here with you.

Yet, despite the long to-do list, you don’t interrupt Reid when he continues your previous conversation about your work, and soon you’re joined by Garcia, who charms you in a matter of seconds. Prentiss and Morgan arrive as well, shortly introducing themselves before leaving to get back to work.

But then the little gathering is coming to a halt, because Hotch shows up just to tell you that you can’t stay here. Instead, he wants you to use his office, saying he’d rather have you somewhere he can keep an eye on you. Garcia and Reid both watch you with visible confusion, which tells you it must be quite unusual, even for them. But you don’t feel like arguing, so you follow the unit chief down the hallway.

As you’re sitting on the couch, you can’t help but glance over at him every now and then, watching as he tries to catch up with the paperwork while they wait. For what, though, is a mystery, no one tells you anything regarding the case. Being left in the dark is definitely not what you’re used to.

Two hours later he returns to the office, but instead of coming in, he simply leans against the doorframe, brown eyes watching you with surprising softness. “How about getting some coffee?” he asks.

Now that’s something you can’t say no to. “You have coffee?”

A short, dry laugh follows your question. “We do, it’s terrible, which is why I was thinking about going to a coffee shop nearby. Want to come with me?”

“I thought I had to stay here to be safe,” you point out. 

“It’s close and I have a gun,” he says with a barely visible smile. “So?”

“That would be great.”

He signals you to follow him, and, as if you were a trained puppy, you do exactly as he wants. While you pass the bullpen, you can’t help but notice the eyes of the members of his team, and you even hear the whispers behind your back. Do they suspect something? Did they notice that maybe you have met before this morning? Or what if Hotch told them himself? But no, if he did, he wouldn’t have acted like he didn’t know you. 

In the car, there’s a comfortable silence settling between you, and it’s hard not to think about the night you met him. The party was boring, the usual shallow event where people could network and show off, but when a woman you knew came over to you to say a mutual acquaintance was on the roof, planning to jump down after receiving a phone call, things took an interesting turn. 

Hotch was in the group you were both a part of in a conversation, and when he heard what happened, he offered to join you. It took a good half hour, but eventually he managed to convince the man to change his mind, and that’s when he told you about who he was. The rest of the night passed with a pleasant chat, learning a lot more about each other, and at the end he asked for your number, promising to call you soon.

Well, he never did.

But today, you’re willing to put that aside if he wants to act like you didn’t know each other. Instead of stirring drama, you inhale deeply and look out the window. “You know, it’s nice,” you note, breaking the silence.

“What’s nice?”

“Not being treated like I was some weirdo.”

For a moment, he turns his head to look at you. “That’s how people see you?” You let out a hum of confirmation. “Well, having Reid on the team helped us gain some experience in dealing with geniuses, I guess.”

“Look at that! A smile! You should smile more often,” you note teasingly, even biting on your lip before commenting on how much more handsome it makes him. 

He shakes his head without glancing over at you. “You’re not letting that smile thing go, are you?” he asks.

“Hmm… No, I don’t think so.” Silence falls between you, because there’s something you want to ask, something you’re not sure you should bring up. But then you take a deep breath and speak up again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“You’re nice to me,” you say, then turn to look at him. “Why?”

Hotch takes a deep breath before looking at you, and you can see a slightly confused expression on his face. “As far as I know, it’s not a crime to be nice.”

“That’s true, still.” His eyes turn back to the road ahead, and you can tell that this was all, he doesn’t want to talk more about this. “So, I guess he wasn’t at home,” you then say, changing the topic. You know Morgan and Prentiss went to Hayes’ home, but neither of them told you about the result.

“No, he wasn’t. But we will find him,” he assures you.

“Are you sure I’m in danger?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

He remains silent for a little too long, probably wondering how much he can tell you. “His wife left him about eight months ago and took their daughter with her. That could be a stressor. He focused on his job, where he once again found traitors, then he lost control.”

“That doesn’t explain why he would turn on me.”

“You’ve been ignoring him. You blocked his number. He’s getting angry, he kills more frequently. We found another body today, but this time it wasn’t a past or current employee. He will reach the point when he starts to blame you for his own actions.”

You look out the window on the side, watching the people on the street. “I don’t believe it,” you note, although this sentence is meant more to you than him.

“I thought you were smarter than this.” Your attention snaps back to him when he reaches out to touch your hand. “Take it seriously. Please.”

“Okay.” You look down at his hand, having a hard time deciding how the way his thumb massages your skin makes you feel. It certainly makes you think, and you don’t shy away from bringing it up. “We should probably talk about the elephant in the room,” you tell him.

But Hotch suddenly pulls his hand away and parks the car in front of a coffee shop. Even though he gets out, you stay behind, staring ahead as you think about this. Maybe you should tell them you’ll take care of your own protection, you won’t need their help any longer. It would be easier for everyone.

Eventually, you catch up, but after you both place your orders, there’s an argument about who’s gonna pay, although he shuts you down with a single look. So, you give up the fight and decide to remain silent until you arrange your trip to your holiday house in Aspen.

Then you take a seat in a booth, and he starts talking unexpectedly. “I thought we were having a fresh start, like we didn’t know each other at all,” he says, continuing the conversation that ended so abruptly in the car.

“You started that this morning when you introduced yourself like I was a complete stranger, I just played along,” you respond, although you’re having a hard time figuring him out. 

He lets out a sigh, his fingers drumming on the side of the cup as he watches you. “I didn’t know where we stood after that night.”

“You disappeared, Hotch. You asked for my number and never called. I thought I misunderstood what happened, so I decided to move on, but don’t think it didn’t hurt.”

“I wanted to call you, but then I had one case after another and realized I don’t have the time to maintain a relationship you would deserve.”

You can’t help but snort. “You could have told me that instead of ignoring me completely.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you can tell he’s being honest now.

It doesn’t make sense to you. He’s been sending you mixed signals since you met again in the morning, and deep down you want to clarify the situation before leaving. “Tell me this,” you begin as you lean closer over the table. “If you wanted to act like we didn’t know each other, why did you become so overprotective? Because that’s what you’ve been all day long; forcing me to come with you, keeping me in your office, and taking me out to get coffee.”

Hotch stops to think. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. I know it’s probably hard to believe, but that’s the truth. I like you, and every time I read an article about you, or watch one of your interviews, I think about what things could be like.”

“I wish you hadn’t disappeared on me back then.”

“We can fix that now,” he says softly as he reaches out to take your hand.

But you don’t like the idea of him touching you, so you pull your hand away as you look elsewhere. “I’m not sure if I want it now. Maybe it’s already too late.” You can hear him let out a long sigh, which makes you turn back to him. “Look, when we get back, I’ll call a friend of mine to send someone who will escort me to my holiday house in Colorado. I’ll take my jet, it will be safe.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, Hotch,” you point out. 

“I know, but you can’t leave. We don’t know when we’ll need you to help us with something. So, no, you’re not leaving. In fact, you’ll stay in my apartment, because I can’t leave you in the office.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

He raises his eyebrows as he looks at you, as if you’ve just made a stupid joke. “No.”

••••••••••

You decided to be a good girl and didn’t put up a fight when he told you it was time to leave the office at the end of the day. You didn’t argue when he ordered food for dinner. You weren’t hostile when he started a conversation. You played his game, just like he expected you to, as if you understood why he was so keen on keeping you close. 

You even offered him a chance to lure Hayes to the party your company was holding for the employees the next day. When he agreed to do it on the condition of him and his team attending too, you said good night, and went to sleep. But that didn’t last long, the moment you heard his bedroom door close, you sneaked out and returned to your office. 

But the next day he found you. You were sitting behind your desk, signing a couple of documents your assistant left behind for you, when you heard footsteps getting closer.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he yelled, walking around your desk to stand right in front of you.

Morgan raised his hands to calm him down. “Hotch,” he warned his boss, but it felt like he didn’t say a word.

Because he completely ignored the other man, instead he focused on you, his eyes burning a hole into you. “You disappear in the middle of the night without a word? No one knew where you went, he could have found you!”

“Hotch, calm down, she’s safe.”

“Morgan, stay out of this, please.”

“Am I arrested?” you ask, keeping your voice calm and quiet.

He looks back at you. “No, but—”

“Then I can go wherever I want,” you tell him. “I don’t need your permission. Hell, you don’t even have proof that he’s after me.”

“But he could be, which is more than enough.”

“Unless you want to arrest me, please, leave the building. If you don’t, I’ll ask security to escort you out,” you inform him, already reaching for your phone to make the call if needed.

Hotch’s eyes soften, and you can see his desperation. “Don’t do this,” he asks you.

Silence follows his words, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning this one. So, rolling your eyes, you close your laptop and stand up, already moving past him to reach the hallway. If they want to stay, then fine, let them stay, but you’ll sure as hell not stick around. He doesn’t try to stop you, neither does Morgan, although you can feel both men watching as you disappear on the hallway. 

You barely reach the first corner, though, when you find yourself face to face with Hayes, the very man they’ve been trying to protect you from. Fuck. But maybe you’re lucky, maybe he’s only here to pick something up from his office, maybe it’s a meeting, maybe it’s anything other than the need to hurt you. Flashing a friendly smile at him, you say, “John, I thought you were on leave.”

“There’s something I have to take care of,” he says, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. 

“Okay. I’ll spend most of the day in my lab, so if you need anything, you kn—” You don’t finish the sentence, because he suddenly pulls out a gun and points it at you. “John, put that away,” you try weakly.

Hayes closes the distance between you to grab your arm and yank you towards the stairs. “Come with me.”

“There are innocent people here, don’t do something you would regret later.”

“This has to be done,” he says, and you can hear the determination in his voice, mixed with a hint of insanity. 

Before you could get far, though, you’re both stopped by a familiar voice when Hotch's angry voice cuts through the air. “Hayes, let her go,” he instructs. 

The man steps behind you and pushes the barrel of the gun at your head. “No! Take one step closer and I’ll shoot her.”

“You only wanted to protect her and the company, didn’t you? Killing her would ruin your plan,” Morgan tries to reason, although you’re not quite sure he’s in the right state of mind to process that properly.

“She doesn’t appreciate what I do for her.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“No! She didn’t say thank you after I punished those people, she didn’t even answer my calls and messages.”

You gulp, feeling like this whole mess is your fault, that maybe if you talked to him, you would’ve found out what he did sooner. “John, please,” you beg him. 

“Shut up!”

Before anyone else could speak up, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye when the assistant of one of the deputy CEO’s steps out of the main meeting room, and she cries loudly when she notices the weapons. “What’s—Oh my god!” she says, her voice laced with panic. 

This averts Hayes’s attention, and he lets go of you just enough to give Morgan the chance to shoot him. You look down at the body on the floor, blood pooling around him as the agent comes closer to check his pulse. “He’s dead,” he announces, turning to his boss before looking back at you. 

You’re crying, you can’t stop yourself, and you’re only pulled out of your spiraling thoughts by Hotch’s worried voice as he moves closer and extends his arms. “Come here.” You don’t even think about it, you only follow your instincts and let him pull you into a tight hug. “He can’t hurt you anymore, you’re safe,” he whispers to you, then turns to his colleague. “Morgan, take care of this, I’ll take her back to her office.”

“Okay, you got it,” comes the answer. 

“I’m fine, you don’t need to come with me,” you note as you step away from him and wipe the tears away. “Would you like me to evacuate the building?”

“No, only close this floor.”

“Sure.”

Hotch grabs your shoulders and turns you back to face him. “Look at me.” When you do, he goes on, his voice soft and worried. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you mumble.

“You’re pushing me away, but you shouldn’t be alone now.”

You shrug. “Then Morgan could stay by my side until you are ready to let me go.”

“Hey, I think it would be better if you stayed with Hotch,” the agent says. 

“What did I do to you? Did I hurt you?” you ask him, sounding as serious as you manage in this situation. 

Morgan groans as he rolls his eyes at you. “Come on.”

“You’re childish, and stubborn, and getting on my nerves now,” Hotch states impatiently. “Let’s go, I need to ask you a few questions.”

“About what?”

“About Hayes holding you at gunpoint.”

“But you saw what happened.”

“Not the whole thing.”

Since there is nothing you can do considering you’re expected to work together with them, you follow him to your office, where you lean against the desk with your arms defensively folded over your chest. “You’re overreacting,” you inform him. 

Hotch scoffs, giving you a disapproving look. “You left my house and he almost murdered you. Since when does being worried about you count as overreacting?”

“And why are you worried? Who am I to you exactly?” you ask in an attempt to challenge him. 

He watches you for a short while, and you have absolutely no idea what’s going on inside his head. But then, out of nowhere, he places a hand on your neck and pulls you into a kiss. A soft one that’s full of emotions, something he’s been planning to do for a while now. “It’s up to you,” he says quietly, staying close to you. 

“That’s emotional blackmail,” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you were telling this to yourself. 

He lets out a short laugh, the big smile remaining in place. “Not quite.”

“Hotch, please, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I promise,” he says as he shakes his head. “Have dinner with me. Tonight, before I’m dragged away for work.”

“I can’t.”

You don’t miss the disappointed look on his face as he steps back. “Of course you can’t,” he notes bitterly.

Tilting your head to the side, you reach out for his hand. “Hey, the gala, remember? That’s tonight.” Finally, he remembers. “How about a deal? You join me as my plus one, and we can talk.”

“You’ll ignore me.”

“I won’t.”

“And if you do?”

A playful smile appears on your lips. “You don’t trust me?”

“I just want to make sure you keep your word,” he points out while he laces your fingers. 

“Ouch. I’ll behave.”

He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, then flashes a smile at you. “That’s all I ask of you.”

Before he could kiss you again, Morgan knocks on the door and watches the pair of you with a teasing grin on his face, but seeing the look his boss sends his way, he decides to leave this for now. Instead, he gives him an update. Despite the conversation happening in your presence, you can’t focus on their words. You’re busy studying Hotch’s face, getting lost in those eyes that caught your attention months ago. Maybe this time he’ll stick around and stop ignoring you.

Maybe this time it can work out. 

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

DUDE dark romance Chris is my Roman Empire. Him and Yunho just fit that possessive/obsessive clingy dom character so well. Hyunjin and Minho would fit their own dark romance categories well, in different ways! And obvs dark Mommy!Seonghwa is elite, as you’ve written so perfectly so many times.

I love a Dom like “you’re mine” while fucking you slow and hard. He’s literally crying and chanting that you belong to him and only him while you’re folded like a pretzel. Also love a total submission moment with bondage so you’re tied up completely and overstimulated and he’s just pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. Making you say you’re his and showing you why, because no one else has ever, and will never make you feel this way.

I love when they love in such a deeply desperate and possessive way.

Anyways, hope you’re doing well. Sorry, as you previously posted, that you’ve felt discouraged. I know I haven’t been super active on here either. Just know you’re one of the elite fic writers and Astro readers in this community. You haven’t written a single thing I haven’t absolutely loved.

Xx 🖤🖤🖤

Hello my love, thank you for your message and I loved reading this.

Yeah, I agree with you in that the dark romance aesthetic just suits yunho and bang chan so well and I'll only write dark fic for idols who to me have that unlocked 'dark' energy in them.

Those type of idols where I watch them and I'm like 'hey, I see some darkness In you, I see some slight toxicity there, let's see if I can bring that out' haha.

I agree, I think Hyunjin and Lee Know fit the 'dark fic' aesthetic and I will write 'dark fics' for them in the future but for me, I think the stray kids who have the most delectable energy for a 'dark fic' is actually Jeongin.

That's because I think Jeongin is the real 'dark horse' of Stray Kids and I will be definitely writing a dark fic with Jeongin this year but I gotta work on it first b/c I find it difficult to get into his head and write him accurately.

This! It's this exact scene in 'Hallucination' where he has the slightly psychotic Joker smile and it just DOES something to me, he's an Aquarius and Aquarius men (Michael C Hall (Dexter), Christian Bale (American Psycho) )are just amazing at playing absolute psychos.

Is anyone picking up what I'm putting down, are y'all seeing this concept?

He's so young and just starting to get in touch with his masculinity now but for the love of God, I hope he does a horror concept in the future like I think he's so attractive when he's a touch crazy.

I agree with everything you said honestly, I love when men love in such a possessive and desperate way, like give me pathetic over non-chalant any day.

Thank you for this message, it takes a lot for me to write my dark fics and I get nervous about them b/c it's the most intimate type of fics that I write- I feel like I'm revealing a piece of my soul with every dark fic I publish so it's strangely vulnerable for me.

Thank you for your support, I appreciate every single drop of it and keep it dear to my heart @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell

[drewsbambi]

ʚɞ late - night [rafe cameron]

| you need him, and who is he to say no to his baby?

⋆ my uneven hair curls around my face as i lie on my bed. my heart hurts and my cheeks stain with dry tears as i stare up at the ceiling, my feet resting on the wall. just when i thought i was getting better, something pulled me back down. this happens all the time.

it just wasn't fair.

my pink pajama shorts ride up slightly as i move around, the blanket pooling around my thighs and i hold my stuffie closer.

i wondered what he was doing.

was he thinking about me? or was he thinking about someone else? and would he get mad just like the others if i called him this late at night?

a frustrated tear escaped my glossy eyes. fuck it, there was no one else i could go to anyway.

i rolled over, laying on my stomach and grabbed my phone.

"angel?"

of course. he had picked up in a second or two. his voice was low and he sounded tired but it did something to me. i couldn't quite put it into words but i could show you how it felt.

"is everything alright? it's quite late." i could hear him shuffling around. probably checking the time or something. i hope he was just checking the time.

i took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves before admitting, "i may have cried.. and i need you." of course my voice came out shaky.

there was a slight pause from his end and in my heart.

"shit.. what happened? i'm on my way, yeah? hold on f'me, pretty girl. can you do that?" i slipped over my words as i nodded. wait, stupid. he can't see you.

i pulled down my baby blue shirt and pushed my hair behind my ears. "mhm.. through window, please."

"a few minutes, angel, mhm?"

i nodded again. stupid girl.

ʚɞ

my plush mattress dipped under his weight as he took me in his arms, sitting us against the headboard. i shifted on his lap, curling up as he encircled my arms with his.

"how's my sweet baby?" he whispered, looking down, his ring-adorned fingers gripping my chin with care and tilting my face up.

"m good," i mumbled, my hands playing with the chain around his neck. "but so sad." his blue eyes softened. he had that look where he just knew, and i looked away.

"and why's that? was it your dad?" i nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"don't wanna talk about it."

he sighed. he didn't like it when i refused to approach a subject that was troubling me. but he nonetheless changed the topic, tracing the design on my shirt. "i like your shirt. 's cute." i smiled softly, "it matches your eyes."

he kissed my cheek, tangling his fingers with mine, "mhm, it does. smart girl."

when he was around, i always felt so safe and heard. be it the smallest things or anything else, he always cared. "sleep with me." i asked him suddenly, not wanting him to leave me alone.

"you think we can fit in this tiny bed of yours, angel?" he whispered, an amused glint in his eyes. i glared at him, and got off of his lap to settle back into my bed.

"i was teasing."

"i knowww," i huffed, pulling him close.

he lay next to me, draping an arm around my waist, and i looked up at him with adoration. my fingers subconsciously reached out to trace his lips, and having got the memo, he leaned in to kiss me, soft.

having him close soothed the pain. it always did.

[vickytaa]

Guess

💋��

It's been a while since I got to the party, but ever since I walked in I couldn't help but feel someone's eyes on me.

Matt.

When he saw me walk in it was immediate, the mini skirt I was wearing was too short for what I normally wear, and it was driving him crazy.

In his eyes I could see desire, hunger and curiosity. I, wanting to play a dangerous game, started teasing him by bending down right in front of him or "accidentally" resting my whole ass on his crotch.

We both knew what we were thinking, but neither of us said a word.

Now there were several of us in the smoking room, Matt sitting on the couch next to Nick, while Chris and I played pool in front of them.

"Chris you suckin this!" Nick shouted from his seat. Chris turned around to look him dead in the eyes. "Next game you play against me" Nick laughed and continued enjoying the game in front of him, meanwhile, Matt was quieter than usual.

Whenever I turned around to look at him, I would catch him staring at my thighs or ass, as if he was trying to see higher up, but the skirt was blocking it.

The game ended quickly, it wasn't hard to beat Chris. Nick got up and they started playing, while I sat on the couch, close to Matt, close enough that our knees touched.

I turned my head to look at him face to face, without saying anything. "I saw you," I said with a mocking smile, which grew bigger when I saw his cheeks blush slightly.

I slowly moved closer to his ear while resting a hand on his inner thigh. When his ear was close enough for him to hear everything, even whispers, I said seductively, "You wanna guess the color of my underwear? You wanna know what I got going on down there?"

I bit my lip, thinking, no, knowing that this was making him harder and harder.

"Is it pretty in pink or all see-through? Is it showing off my brand-new lower-back tattoo?" Matt adjusted the position he was in, now a little more tense. A smirk formed on his lips, thinking about everything I was telling him.

"I know what you're thinking, you wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it, pull it to the side and put it all in, yeah."

I moved away a little, but his hand strayed and grabbed me by the waist, bringing me closer, and now my ear was close to his mouth, so much so that I could feel his warm breath on it.

In his thick but low voice, he was telling me, "I don't have to guess the color of your underwear, I already know what you've got going on down there." As he told me I felt my thighs squeezing together, trying to find some friction.

"It's the lacy black pair with the little bows. The one I picked out for you in Tokyo." I knew that pair was ruined from how wet they were.

"I saw them when you were sitting down, they were peeking out. And you're right, that's all I'm thinking about. I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it, pull it to the side and get all up in it, kiss it, bite it, or if I could fit in?"

My mind was going crazy creating all the scenarios where Matt would do what he was thinking. He moved away a little, just enough to look at my face, I could feel his breath from how close we were.

"Do you want to try it?"

"Guess."

𝐕 -

[long-live-evie]

*Evie took a moment, letting Don's words sink in before making a move. Hesitant at first, then calmly, she approached him, reaching up and softly ruffling the bubbles on his little sprite's head. Looking up at Don, her eyes were full of empathy. They really were in the same boat here.*

Don... I know even less about him than you do, but I do know that I wouldn't want to be around someone I blamed for a near-death situation. If he's here, loving and caring for you, he couldn't possibly hold that against you at the same time. That's... just not how love works.

I can't speak to your relationship at all, really... I'm barely able to process my own sometimes. But me loving John has put targets on both our backs. Anyone who wants to hurt me would target him, and vice versa. Or if they simply wanted to kill one of us, the other would be targeted by association. John knows that, and he still loves me.

*She chuckled slightly, her eyes drifting to the water sprite before being pulled down by Nada tugging on her pants. She reached down and picked her little sprite up, snuggling him.*

He doesn't just love me, though. He keeps me close and refuses to let me face my problems and fears alone. Despite all the danger that comes just from me being near him, John keeps me right by his side and he won't let me try to protect him by keeping my distance or keeping secrets. I'm so scared that everything I've done will catch up to me one day and he'll suffer my consequences on top of the repercussions of 2,500 years of absolute hell, but he just...

He just tells me that he loves me and he has my back, and that's enough for him...

*She buried her face in Nada's wispy violet smoke before looking back up at Don.*

I guess we're both rambling now, heh...

*There's a polite knock on your door around dinner time. Evie is standing outside with a steaming crockpot, her little void sprite playing around her ankles.*

Don? I heard you were sick, so I made you something! ❤️💙

@long-live-evie

[Despite the circumstances, Megalo Don answered the door with his usual promptness, though lacking in his usual attire. Instead, he was wearing a pair of shark pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. He had a pink blanket draped over his head, using it not unlike a shawl.]

Hello, Evie. Come on in. I'd say that food smells delicious, but I can't smell much of anything through this stuffed-up nose of mine.

[The shark's disgruntled expression softened at the sight of the void sprite.]

It seems to me that the voiding is doing better... let me see where the little one ran off to. Perhaps the two can entertain themselves while we catch up.