#That's CLEARLY the dynamic the three had growing up

[gabriellerudessa]

Thank you, @ed89, for the gifs <3

Now to my thoughts: the way Norm is the one climbing up the rubble in this scene, PLUS all his noising around along the series, really makes me think that this man has been climbing up counters to reach things he wasn't supposed to SINCE HE COULD WALK; Lucy is the athletic one, sure, but Norm was the one actually climbing counters to reach the Cakes and Sugar Bombs before dinner lolololol. It ended up a pretty good ability to have once older lol

That's it, that's the thoughts. Now I'll try to scrounge up time and energy to draw a Tiny Child Norm climbing up counters lololol

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

New Shade of Green

Pairing: Spencer x Reader (gn!)

WC: 2.7k

TW: implications of murder, serial killer talk, mentions of abuse, crying, anger, swearing <3, Men sucking so bad

a/n: This was a request, which you can see here. Jealous Spencer was so fun to write! Enjoy babes!!!

"Oh my god. Shut the fuck up! I didn't know you were the consultant for this case!" You hopped up out of your seat on the jet to greet the man you called your best friend. 

His eyes lit up when he saw you, wrapping an arm around you, squeezing you tightly. "I assume you didn't read the text I sent you last week."

You laughed and pulled out of the hug slightly, hand still on his arm. "I never read anything you send me."

Spencer, whose hand you had abandoned when you got up to say hi to Oliver, was zeroed in on the fact that your hand was still on Oliver's arm, and Oliver's arm was still slightly wrapped around your waist. 

"Team, this is Oliver Swerdanski, my best friend and specialist in classics--" 

"Norse mythology specifically." 

It was not lost on the team that you clearly had a type. Oliver was about 6 feet tall, in a sweater, and wearing wired glasses frames. He was slightly buffer than Spencer, but not as tall. (something Spencer noted the first time you had introduced the two)

The team nodded and said their hellos, more interested in the shifting dynamics of the plane since you hadn't left Oliver's side, opting to sit with him on the couch instead of your usual seat by the window, next to a certain green-faced Doctor. 

The flight was going to be a long one. 

Eventually, Derek felt terrible enough for Spencer that he stopped by you and Oliver on his way to get some coffee. 

"So, Oliver, how long have you known our dear Y/N here." 

Oliver smiled over at you with a glint in his eye that most of the profilers on the plane noticed. Except for you. 

"Oh, well. We go way back." 

You nodded enthusiastically, just happy to have the company of an old friend. "We were neighbors growing up--you could say he's my childhood best friend." 

"That turned into one of your now best friends..."

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Don’t push it asshat.”

Derek smiled slightly, realizing this was going to be an interesting case “Well, it’s nice to meet you Oliver.”

He left the two of you alone, taking your abandoned seat next to Spencer, a slight smirk washing over his face as he did. 

“Aren’t you the picture of joy this morning?” 

“Not in the mood, Derek,” Spencer mumbled, staring intently out the window, trying not to let his jealousy get the better. It’s not like it mattered since he was surrounded by profilers who could read him like a book. 

“What do you think of Oliver?” 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and Derek chuckled. “Good luck, kid.” 

And with that, Derek left Spencer alone, knowing he had his plate filled with more than enough shit for however long this case would be. 

And it didn’t help anything that you were completely oblivious to both men: both of them filled to the brim with envy of the other, having what they each thought the other had—your attention. 

____________________________________________________________

Four years ago, Hotch had made you and Spencer share a bedroom, causing a chain of events to lead to the fact that you still share one now. 

Three years of dating had made you feel very comfortable in your relationship; You loved Spencer Reid. This was not some passing affliction, it was simply a fact of the universe. You would move hell and earth if he asked you to. 

But not right now. Right now? You kind of wanted to punch him. He was ignoring you, or at least that’s what it felt like. The car ride was completely silent. You could tell something was upsetting him, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure why he was so distant. 

“Spence?” 

“Hm?”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong.” 

He shrugged, effectively trying to murder the conversation before it even had the chance to live. 

You frowned slightly, shifting in your seat slightly, and looking over at him. 

“What’s going on?” 

You heard him mumble something under his breath, unsure of what he was saying, but it just made you even more upset. 

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“I said. I’m fine.” Spencer huffed. 

“Well, clearly you aren’t.”

“Believe whatever you want to fucking believe then.”

And that’s where the conversation ended, leaving you effectively lost. Especially since he wouldn’t hold your hand in the car ride back and then didn’t wait for you as he walked straight into the police station. 

This was going to be a long case. 

___________________________________________________________

And you were right. 

Spencer ignored you at every chance he could. Even in the hotel room, he’d go to bed without you, no holding one another, no late-night talks, nothing. He would just get ready for bed in silence and then turn away from you. 

And tonight, you couldn’t deal with it anymore. He had been ignoring you for over a week and now that it looked like the case was going to take longer, you couldn’t stand it. Instead of getting into bed, you grabbed your phone and wallet and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door behind you. 

You went down to the hotel bar and ordered yourself a tequila shot, downing it quickly before getting your regular drink. 

Oliver slid into the seat next to you, hand on your arm. 

“I haven’t seen you do tequila that fast since freshman year of college.” 

You gave him a dry laugh and took another sip of your drink. “Desperate times.” 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“Not really. I’m just. I’m aggravated.” 

“Come on, babe, it’s me.” Oliver rubbed his hand up and down your arm. “You can always talk to me—so tell me what’s been going on. Boy troubles?”

You sighed. “It’s just…I don’t know what’s going on with Spencer. He’s barely said like three sentences to me since the case began, and clearly, he’s upset with me, but I have no fucking idea why since he’s being a stubborn ass and won’t talk to me. How the fuck am I supposed to fix something if he won’t even tell me what’s wrong.” 

Oliver rubbed his thumb across your arm. It felt intimate because it was, but this was Oliver, who only had the best intentions for you, who you had known since you were a little kid.

“He sounds like a douche babe.” 

You leaned away slightly, face becoming unrecognizable for a moment. “Okay, well, that’s not what I said. He’s clearly just upset abou—” 

“You kinda did. He’s acting like you don’t exist, and clearly, he doesn’t care about how all of this is affecting you.” 

You went to rebuttal his claims because Spencer would never be that callous; he’d never treat you like that. But he kind of was. “It’s only because something is wrong and…”

“So he treats you like this whenever he can’t communicate with you.”

“Well not…he doesn’t…” You were starting to doubt yourself, unable to keep up with the accusations. 

“He doesn’t what. Because it sounds like you’re saying he treats you like shit when he gets upset with you…”

“What are you trying to insinuate? That he hits me? Oliv–”

“I’m just saying that behavior–”

What? Oliver, no. Stop twisting my words.” 

“I’m not twisting your words; I’m just stating what I’m seeing.” 

“What you’re seeing? You’ve been here for a week. You don’t know the past three years.”

“It’s been a week and he’s still treating you like this. And honestly, whenever I come around, he…” Oliver moved his hand to your thigh, causing you to frown deeply. 

“Oliver. Step off.” 

He shook his head. “You’re upset. And I want to help.” 

You shoved his hand off your thigh and stood up. You left cash on the bar, standing up and moving away from Oliver. 

Oliver watched as you walked away, frowning once you couldn’t see him anymore. 

____________________________________________________________

The next morning, Spencer was woken up, and you were curled into his chest, sleeping soundly. He couldn’t move. He ghosted his lips over your forehead, causing you to stir slightly, clinging to him more. 

“Morning.” He whispered to you. 

You hummed and gripped a bit tighter to him. “Don’t go.”

Your voice broke Spencer’s heart a little bit. It’s not that he didn’t feel bad about the way he was treating you, it’s just that Oliver kept provoking him, making him turn greener every single time he saw Oliver talking to you. 

“I wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart.” 

“Oh so now we’re back to nicknames.” You grumbled into his chest. “I’m still mad at you.” 

He signed and brushed your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry Y/N. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” 

“You can make it up to me when we get home.” 

“Deal.” He kissed your head again, just as your cell phone began to ring. 

_________________________________________________________

After two grueling weeks on this godforsaken case, everyone was ready to get home. 

The rest of the case caused serious tension for the group because the mythology was the only thing tying these murders together, and your geoprofile was all over the place, meaning these two killers were too good at what they were doing. 

Once you had been shot at, and nearly grazed by a bullet, you would have expected Spencer to continue to speak to you, but all he did was stare at you from afar. It was infuriating. 

You couldn’t get a read on him. For the rest of the week, he had been speaking to you, kissing you, holding your hand; then after checking on you while you were getting checked out, he stopped speaking to you. 

The entire team watched you and Spencer shift back into the dynamic duo you were, functioning better than before. They watched as Oliver got more frustrated as you continued to ignore him unless it was a necessary part of the investigation. Maybe you had figured it out–they hoped you had.

Instead of trying to deal with even more bullshit, you opted to sit alone at the back of the plane, headphones on. It was one of those many unspoken rules about the plane that everyone knew not to disturb you while your headphones were on unless they wanted to get bitch slapped. 

Well, everyone except for Oliver. 

You were deep in thought, trying to mull over why Spencer wasn’t talking to you–both times– going over every scenario you possibly could and figuring out what changed during that first day. 

Oliver got up, ready to go and talk to you, his intentions pretty clear from the look on his face, but Derek grabbed his arm, effectively yanking him back down into his seat. 

“What the fuck man?” 

“Don’t bug Y/N while they have headphones on.” If Spencer wasn’t going to stand up for you, then Derek absolutely was. Oliver might have been your best friend, but Derek was your family. 

“It’s just music…”

“Yeah,” Hotch spoke up, not looking away from the report in his hands. “And no one wants to clean up your blood when you get murdered for trying to interrupt that music.” 

“Look. As Y/n’s best friend, I’m outside of most of their rules–”

“I don't think so.” Derek stood up, fully ready to restrain this man. 

“What the fuck is going on.” You had stood up, and turned around, headphones out of your ears, and my god did you look fucking pissed off. “I don’t know why is everyone arguing so loudly, but if we could keep the volume at a fucking minimum that would be fan-fucking-tastic.”

The team stared back at you, except for Hotch who just had a slightly amused look on his face as he filled out paperwork. You glared at Oliver and Derek, who were standing opposite of you. “Can I help you two or…”

Derek shook his head. “Go back to your music. We’re sorry.”  

“Thank you.” You grumbled to the group, sliding your headphones back over your ears, attaching a ‘sorry’ to the group as you did so. You moved further back on the plane, sitting on the couch, glaring at anyone who looked at you. 

This has been a stressful two weeks for you. Oliver was acting all weird all of a sudden, –causing you to reevaluate your entire relationship with him, considering he was trying to make Spencer sound like a villain. And then Spencer, acting like a villain and ignoring you all week, then acting like nothing happened, and then ignoring you again for another twenty-four hours. You couldn’t take it anymore. And, on top of all of this, you had lost two more victims to the unsub, because one of the killers worked in the station, using his knowledge to avoid the BAU. 

You were overwhelmed and frustrated, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask for? 

“I should go apologize–” Oliver didn’t move to sit back down.

Spencer stood up and shoved past Oliver, moving to sit on the couch with you, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him. 

“Can I help you?” 

Spencer shrugged and opened his book, knowing you’d rather have whatever conversation he was willing to have now, in private. He opted to just read and be in your company. It was easily recognizable as the beginning of an apology, and you would take it. You maneuvered so your back was up against his arm, initiating the amount of touch you were willing to have, but also not crossing a line. 

The plane ride was silent the rest of the way. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry for this w–the past two weeks really. I-I’ve been really in my own head and–”

You let out a hefty sigh, tossing your keys on the counter and your bag down next to the door. Spencer followed suit, closing the door behind the two of you as you went into the kitchen to put on the kettle to make some tea. 

“Are you going to tell me what was going on? What the fuck happened?”

He sighed back at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a hug. 

And while you muttered your displeasure, you didn’t move away from him at all, opting to grouchily mumble in his ear, while Spencer ran his thumb up and down your back, listening to you mumble. 

“I–god Spence. You just dropped me like all week, and then suddenly—”

“I-I know. I was awful. I’m so so sorry.”  

“That’s not an explanation.” You mumbled into his chest.

“I….” Spencer swallowed whatever sort of pride he thought he would be saving and opted to tell you. “I…It was Oliver, and-and the way you were treating him, an-and you sat next to him on the plane and he was touching you and he was constantly holding you and stealing your attention away and—”

You pulled away slightly to get a look at your boyfriend. “Spencer Reid, were you jealous?” 

He cursed under his breath and rolled his eyes. 

You placed a soft kiss on his neck, causing him to hum. “You have nothing to be worried about Spence. You are it for me. No one can change that, especially not Oliver.”

Spencer looked down and smiled again. You smiled back at him, pulling him to you for a kiss. 

It was recentering your universe. Everything was the way it should be–your lips on Spencer's, his hands around his waist, and a glowing sunset peering through your windows. 

The kettle whistled loudly, causing the two of you to jump apart, startled at the sound. 

“That was a good start, Spence. Once I finish my tea, you can show me how else you can keep making it up to me.” You smirked slightly, turning around to take the kettle off of the stove and grab the tea and mugs. 

Spencer has never been so excited to drink a cup of tea, and honestly, neither had you. 

[mind-lost-in-the-stars]

a very minor thing about Richie’s death that’s bothered me for awhile now is how Pete and Ruth (I suppose Grace and Steph as well) don’t piece it together after it’s mentioned that Zeke the Fightin’ Nighthawk was murdered

clip for context

i will say that the digital ticket shows more remorse from both Ruth and Steph, but only after Richie is name dropped so yeahh…why didn’t they know Richie was the mascot when other people like Jason (and most likely Max) did? we also know him being the mascot isn’t a recent development after Max dies thanks to Jason’s “member of this team who’s gone unappreciated for far too long” line. that to me implies at least since the beginning of their senior year

a few ideas:

- he never told them because max threatened him is the theory that makes the most sense since “Jägerman doesn’t let nerds go to football games”, but this means he let Richie be the mascot for some unknown reason. was it to let Richie have a bit of happiness that Max still ultimately had control of. I don’t know, but it’s fun to think about

- it’s also very possible he never told them because he never had a reason to tell them, but Richie seems like the type of person to talk about the things that make him happy, and he clearly enjoys being zeke

-maybe max never knew, and Richie knew that if he found out that Max would beat him up for it, but this leaves the question of how Jason knows. if Jason knew and not Max, shout out to Jason for not being a snitch—love that man

- (take this one with a big ol’ grain of salt if u don’t like michie related things) there’s a chance that Richie being the mascot allowed him to see other sides of Max that weren’t just the bullying side which made Max grow on Richie even just a little bit. he of course wouldn’t want Pete and Ruth to know about this, so he kept that and him being the mascot to himself. Jon matteson mentioned once on a stream how out of the nerds Richie felt the worst about Max’s death and maybe that’s because he was (by process of elimination) the closest to Max in that group

- a sadder theory is that Pete, Richie, and Ruth actually just weren’t that close of friends. they all kind of just formed a group at a young age cause they were all labeled as nerds and sorta just stuck with each other through life cause they didn’t have anywhere else to go. I know it’s implied in “go, go nighthawks” that Richie being late to class isn’t abnormal, but for him to be missing for NEARLY THREE FUCKING DAYS and to have neither Ruth or Pete bat an eye either says something about them, something about Richie, but definitely says something about their dynamic as a group. (this is absolutely just theorizing about worst possible scenarios in no possible way do I see this one being the case)

I know it’s not a big deal like at all (and is a problem with a lot of other slasher media), but it always gets to me when characters move past the death of one of their best friends so fast just because a show needs to keep the plot moving.

*sigh*

either way, Richie deserved so so so much better and I hope he’s being held by Rei and Asuka in wherever the hell he ended up <33

[bunnyrafe]

𓊆ྀིyour stepfather rafe is a mean, old man. and it really doesn’t help that you’re constantly & accidentally testing his patience.𓊇ྀི

♥︎ 𝓃otes: extremely willing to do a part two of this, just wanted to play around with this idea first… enjoy xoxo

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. 800. taboo themes f!reader, stepdad/older/dark!rafe, dubcon, age gap (20s & 40s), stepcest, cheating, choking, degradation & dumbification, piss/watersports but not really, a single spank, use of daddy — no actual smut for this piece but clearly some heavy d/s dynamics & power imbalance.

“There she is.”

There’s a rasp to Rafe’s voice.

It meets your ears just as you hear your friend’s car speed out of the driveway, sealing your fate.

You weren’t expecting to see him in the family room when you stumbled through the foyer, after clumsily shutting the front door behind you. The sound of your heels on the hardwood floor isn’t exactly quiet but you can barely hear them over your heart pounding in your ears, upon seeing your stepfather sitting there.

Only one light is on, illuminating the side of his face and reflecting off of his crystal glass while he takes a sip of his whiskey. You don’t miss the dangerous glimmer in his eye; you can’t help the way your lips part, breath getting caught up in your throat until you find it in you to speak— “I told you guys I’d be late…”

Rafe nods at that, placing his glass down. You want to slam your head against the wall when you realize you’re totally slurring on your words— although, it shouldn’t matter. You may be under their roof but you are an adult. Arguably a sheltered princess but a big girl nonetheless.

He exhales and casually pats his lap, “Sit with me.”

“I don’t think I should—”

“Oh— c’mon,” there’s that edge to his voice again. “Don’t break my heart...”

Don’t piss him off— is what he means to say.

So you end up in his lap. With your party dress riding up as your knees are on either side of his hips, your trembling arms are guided to wrap around his neck. The scent of hard liquor and his expensive cologne dances around your nose, and you suddenly feel even more intoxicated than you already did. Because this is wrong. This is your mother’s husband of three years. This is the man that helped pay for your tuition.

“Y’know your mother was still worried sick,” he suddenly says, “had to fuckin’ get her some wine so she’d calm down and pass the fuck out already.”

His strong arms coil around your middle, squeezing you up in his hold until you squeak. But the growing tingle between your thighs reminds you why you were in such a rush to get into the house. Embarrassment causes your body to go hot, tongue feeling beyond heavy with the weight of what you’re about to utter out.

“Rafe, I have to…” You’re trying your hardest to not cry. You sniffle pathetically, trembling in his lap, “I— have to use the bathroom. Let me go, please— ‘m sorry I worried her.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll let you go that easy.” He tuts. His grip on you grows stronger by the second, flexing the arm that’s already around your waist so you can’t squirm away.

All while his free hand wraps around your throat. Simply keeping you right where he wants you to be and forcing you to stare into his face— your head bobbles with every word that falls from his whiskey flavored lips, “I dunno, babygirl… Maybe I should jus’ let you make a mess in my lap. Like the dumb, filthy girl you are. Seems like you’d surely learn your lesson then… right?”

“Rafe, please.” You choke out, fisting at the crisp cotton of his button up in your clammy hands, “I won’t stay out so late next time!”

Without warning you’re forced out his lap, and your hands are smacked away when you try to pull your little dress down. Only so his own hand can swat at the fullness of your ass. The sharp sting left behind forces you to bite back a hiccup, not wanting to risk waking your mother up.

“There won’t be a next time,” he snarls, “My house, my rules— y’got that? Never had proper fuckin’ discipline in your life, huh?”

Solemnly, you nod and sniffle yet again because how can you possibly respond to that? You shuffle uncomfortably in your heels, squeezing your thighs together while looking at him with glossy, tear filled eyes until his own soften a bit.

“Fuck— go clean yourself up ‘n get ready for bed like a good girl,” his gentle tone is music to your tired ears— you feel like you can finally breathe, only for that sinking feeling to take over once more as he continues on, “I’ll take care of your mother— but you’ll have to make it up to your daddy tomorrow, understand?”

You couldn’t possibly rush up the stairs any faster. You almost trip over your feet trying to get into your own bathroom. And when everything is said and done, you crawl into bed with tear streaked cheeks and fall asleep with sticky panties, mind running wild with visions and thoughts of what Rafe might have in store for you…

[maadsimming]

prismatic personalities legacy challenge <3

if you played our first challenge, WCGW, last year and enjoyed it then you will be happy to hear that we are back with another challenge! this challenge is for the game players to explore different jobs, aspirations, and ingame prompts they may not be aware of. and of course, we didn’t forget our storytellers! so make sure you pay attention to the descriptions for each colorful generation :)

welcome to our nine generation legacy challenge, “prismatic personalities”

CREATED BY @darlingstoriees AND @maadsimming

follow our stories @/darlingwhim and @/maad.persona over on instagram!

challenge rules:

each generation has a color for you to follow; the colors go along with the personalities of each gen so it is suggested that you follow the color schemes!

the colors of the spouses don’t matter. unless specifically stated in the rules, you can do whatever you please with them.

every generation has an optional rule to make the generation just a bit harder! as stated, these are optional so only do them if you’d like.

some generations will have relationship/family dynamics rules, however if none are stated, the relationships between all sims will be up to your interpretation!

some generations have child aspirations. you do NOT need to fully complete them, but you can if you’d like!

money cheats can be used, but shouldn’t be used excessively. suggestion: use the cheat, freerealestate on for your first home, but no cheats afterward.

your sims may live wherever you please unless the world is specified in the rules of a generation.

every heir should complete the rules, aspiration, and career of the generation.

if you do not have the required packs, you can opt out of certain rules or change them to fit as close as possible.

if you play this challenge and want to share it with us, make sure to post with #prismaticpersonalities so we can see! feel free to tag us as well: @curioustraits @/darlingwhim & @maadsimming @/maad.persona

generation rules under the cut !!

packs used: for rent, growing together, snowy escape, eco lifestyle, discover university, get famous, parenthood, spa day, nifty knitting.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation one: red ❤️

you've always been intense, passionate, first. from the second you were born, you let the world know that it revolved around you. your passion was always your best friend, seemingly letting everything fall into your hands... until it turned on you.

color: red

traits: romantic, erratic, self-assured

aspiration: villainous valentine

career: criminal (boss branch)

rules:

complete the villainous valentine aspiration

master the criminal career (boss branch)

master the mischief, handiness, and charisma skills

have the ‘difficult’ family dynamic with ALL of your children

only max out the romance bar with ONE love interest, but never date or marry them

(optional) never have any friendly relationships

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation two: orange 🧡

"patient... patient.. be patient!" is a word you knew as well as your name. but you were too determined to live life to it’s fullest, it CLEARLY had a lot more to offer in your eyes. can't be patient when you have places to be!

color: orange

traits: adventurous, party animal, self-absorbed

child aspiration: rambunctious scamp

aspiration: extreme sports enthusiast

career: entertainer (comedian branch)

rules:

gain the ‘compassionate’ character value trait (good empathy)

gain the ‘irresponsible’ character value trait (bad responsibility)

complete the extreme sports enthusiast aspiration

master the entertainer career (comedian branch)

must live in mt komorebi

master the dancing, rock climbing, comedy, charisma, and snowboarding skills

adopt at least one of your children

have the ‘jokesters’ family dynamic with ALL of your children

never reject phone invites

(optional) never be in a negative mood

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation three: yellow 💛

your cheerful parent gave you a happy life, you would have never guessed how evil this world could be... until it was time to move on from your parent’s safe grasp. it didn't take long for you to realize how scary everything was, but that fear drove you to want to protect others- be a lawyer! save your clients!

color: yellow

traits: cheerful, paranoid, genius

aspiration: friend of the world

career: law (private attorney branch)

rules:

gain the ‘mediator’ character value trait (good conflict resolution)

gain the ‘emotional control’ character value trait (good emotional control)

complete the friend of the world aspiration

master the law career (private attorney branch)

master the research and debate, logic, charisma, writing, and parenting skills

move out after aging up to a young adult

have something tragic happen to someone close to you after you’ve moved out

have only ONE child

have the ‘close’ family dynamic with your child

only be friends with a small group, but have all of their friendship bars maxed out

(optional) go to university to get your language & literature degree before going into the law career

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation four: green 💚

you were always told that you should "take your own advice" but that never made sense to you. advice was meant to be given? what good does it do if it’s your own thoughts? either it was a severe case of empathy or self-blindness- you would listen to everyone except yourself. you needed some… serious growing up to do… emotionally. but hey! at least you can put all that advice to some good use!

color: green

traits: jealous/wise, nosy, vegetarian

child aspiration: slumber party animal

aspiration: seeker of secrets

career: education (professor branch)

rules:

gain the ‘compassionate’ character value trait (good empathy)

gain the ‘uncontrolled emotions’ character value trait (bad emotional control)

complete the seeker of secrets aspiration

master the education career (professor branch)

master the research and debate, logic, charisma, and gardening skills

replace the jealous trait with the wise trait when aging up to an elder

get divorced (at any age) and then remarry the same sim as an elder

blackmail someone ONCE & then never do any other mean interactions

(optional) use the ‘simple living’ lot challenge

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation five: blue 💙

loser.. loner.. something along those lines. those were titles that seemed to always stick to you from childhood to adulthood. finally over it, you decided it was time for a change, a new style… haircut… job. you were ready to rip off the stickers of shame and embrace the new you... i mean, who doesn't want a new loyal friend??

color: blue

traits: loyal, loner, neat

child aspiration: artistic prodigy

aspiration: neighborhood confidante aspiration

career: style influencer (trendsetter branch)

rules:

gain the ‘good manners’ character value trait (good manners)

gain the ‘emotional control’ character value trait (good emotional control)

complete the neighborhood confidante aspiration

master the style influencer career (trendsetter branch)

master the writing, charisma, photography, painting, and media production skills

move to a different world after aging up to an adult

sell paintings as a side job

have no close friends until level 6 of your career

(optional) as an adult, become friends with someone who you had a bad relationship with as a child/teen

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation six: purple ��

calm and peaceful... and just a little silly. that’s just who you are, and everyone knows it! you enjoy rooms full of laughter as much as you enjoy silent yoga. taking some passed down advice from an ancestor, you love living life to its full capacity- love, family and doing everything you possibly can. you don't even know the definition of boredom!

color: purple

traits: active, childish, creative

child aspiration: mind and body

aspiration: inner peace

career: athlete (professional athlete branch)

rules:

gain the ‘mediator’ character value trait (good conflict resolution)

gain the ‘bad manners’ character value trait (bad manners)

complete the inner peace aspiration

master the athlete career (professional athlete branch)

master the wellness, fitness, charisma, and video gaming skills

have two failed relationships as a young adult before marrying your highschool sweetheart

have the ‘permissive’ family dynamic with all of your kids

order pizza for dinner every friday night

(optional) apply for every competition (ex; lottery, gaming tournaments, etc)

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation seven: black 🖤

maybe it was the emotionally unavailable parent, or maybe your heart truly was just evil... but you always had a keen interest for the darker side of everything. everything in your life was dark and twisted... except... someone of pure light. was it a change of heart? was it love? were you sick... you didn’t know, but you surely understood that feeling pulling on your heart strings to protect this light.

color: black

traits: evil, snob, kleptomaniac

aspiration: public enemy

career: secret agent (diamond agent branch)

rules:

gain the ‘bad manners’ character value trait (bad manners)

gain the ‘irresponsible’ character value trait (bad responsibility)

complete the public enemy aspiration

master the secret agent career (diamond agent branch)

master the mischief, logic, charisma, programming, and your choice of instrument/singing skills

have ONLY one pair of twins

have the ‘close’ family dynamic with only one of your children, and have the ‘difficult’ family dynamic with the other child

steal something from every lot you visit

(optional) break into someone’s house at least once a week

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation eight: white 🤍

you’re pure. which is shocking coming from your long family line.. but you aren’t all perfect. that overbearing anxiousness of needing to live up to every expectation that’s been set from your lovely ancestors and all the people around you. you needed to start fresh, forget all those expectations! this is your life! and what better way to start fresh than... well... being a civil designer!

color: white

traits: perfectionist, socially awkward, good

child aspiration: social butterfly

aspiration: master maker

career: civil designer (civic planner branch)

rules:

gain the ‘responsible’ character value trait (good responsibility)

gain the ‘compassionate’ character value trait (good empathy)

complete the master maker aspiration

master the civil designer career (civic planner branch)

master the fabrication, logic, handiness, charisma, and knitting skills

must live in evergreen harbor

befriend all of your neighbors

must vote every week for a positive neighborhood action plan

always stay in the green eco footprint

(optional) use the ‘off the grid’ lot challenge

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

generation nine: pink 🩷

LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION! …and some giggles. whenever you were a child and were asked "what will you be when you grow up?" you enthusiastically told them that you’d be on the big screen! and you meant it too! the first feeling of relief when you really were on the big screen will forever be your most prized memory. let’s just hope these feelings don’t fade away after a few years…

color: pink

traits: goofball, ambitious, generous

child aspiration: social butterfly

aspiration: master actor

career: actor

rules:

gain the ‘mediator’ character value trait (good conflict resolution)

gain the ‘compassionate’ character value trait (good empathy)

complete the master actor aspiration

master the actor career

master the acting, singing, and dancing skills

have pet(s) but only small dogs/animals

donate to charity every week

marry an ambitious sim

have a big family (4+ kids)

have the ‘close’ or ‘jokesters’ family dynamics with all of your children

(optional) become a global superstar and get a celebrity role on starlight boulevard

[loveandleases]

Tormenting Chris and Jade submission for balance: I forgot to ask how they'd react to the poly route with Kara X Isaac. Chris's desire to love and support Kara in direct opposition to their desire to judge any dynamic with Isaac--

Love having some balance. (Called for a scenario so rest will be under the cut!)

Chris taps along their phone, their finger hovering just above the screen, caught between pressing and not pressing, between action and restraint. One name. One person their mind refuses to release. They can still see your face clearly; hear the way their name sounds when it leaves your lips. Their expression is taut, posture rigid as they scan the apartment around them—pristine, perfect, just like their life used to be. Until you came into it.

A scoff escapes their lips as they run a hand through their icy-blonde hair. How typical, they think, people stirring up trouble, thinking Chris cares what you do.... How did they even know? Is it in their face? In the way their thoughts creep in, reminding them of what was lost—or what, no, who, they tossed aside?

Jade’s voice rings in Chris’s ears, the memory of her words sharp and biting: “MC was always so hard to please, always unsatisfied despite everything our parents had given them. Since they couldn’t have you, they settled for Kara. Isaac was just the cherry on top—a person with a jaded past that they could take pity on. Along for the ride, because everyone knows the rumors about Isaac. Never staying with someone for too long unless they get bored.”

Their jaw tenses as their eyes linger on the photo laid out on the coffee table—your smile, a smile they hadn't seen in so long. You give it so freely, so easily. To Isaac and Kara of all people. One on either side of you, Kara’s lips close to your ear, whispering something while Isaac’s hand rests casually on your knee. Isaac was never good enough to be friends with Kara, not after everything Chris learned. They deserve to be with you even less. The number of times they’ve seen their hand roam on people’s bodies…they shouldn’t be touching you so freely. So openly. Where people can see, where Chris can see.

The photo cuts deeper than Chris anticipated, and before they can stop themselves, their fingers are already dialing Kara’s number. Their leg begins to shake with annoyance, the phone ringing louder than their pulse. Kara always picked up quickly—never more than three rings. So why isn’t she now? Was there always something there? Was there something going on behind the scenes?

Were the two of you… no, Kara wouldn’t do that to me. You wouldn’t do that to me.

Kara finally answers, her voice groggy with sleep. “Hello?”

Chris freezes. It’s four in the morning. They’d spent the whole night obsessing, thinking about the three of you—disgusting.

Chris opens their mouth to speak, but the sound of Isaac’s groan and your voice cuts through the silence. “Who is it?”

The question makes their blood run cold. You’re both there? Why are you with her?

“Chris?” Kara’s voice breaks through their thoughts, sharp and concerned.

“Tell me this is a joke.” Chris’ voice cracks, disbelief flooding their words. They force out a thin, bitter laugh. “This is a joke, isn’t it, Kara?”

“Chris, how di—”

“Let me talk to them.”

“Wh—who?”

“Let me talk to my fiancé.”

The line grows quiet, and Chris can’t help but imagine the look that passes over the three of you.

“Former fiancé,” Isaac adds, a cool edge to his voice, as Kara reluctantly hands you the phone.

“Why are you with them?” Chris’s voice is quieter now, rawer, the reality of it all begins to settle in.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Another scoff. Chris’s anger surges, bubbling up and threatening to spill over. “Of course it’s my business. You’re my f—” They stop themselves, letting the word die on their tongue.

A heavy sigh escapes them as they lean back against the couch. “You’re my ex-fiancé. Do you realize how this looks? Fucking my little sister and her friend. After everything, this is how you repay me?”

“This has nothing to do with you. Who I’m with is none of your concern, Chris. Kara might be your sister, but you don’t own her, or me, for that matter.” Your words are sharp, almost like a smack to the face.

Chris’s fingers twitch, plucking at the photo until the three of you are separated—tearing you apart. “And Isaac, what? You just had to bring the trash with you, Kara? It’s not bad enough you’re sharing a bed with my ex, but now you’ve got your friend, too?” Isaac was never good enough to be friends with Kara. Especially once Chris had their background looked into. No, they don’t deserve Kara and they deserve you even less.

“Stop it, Chris.”

Despite the tightness in her chest, the guilt she carries, Kara can’t bring herself to yell. Not yet. “Don’t talk about them, about us, like you know what’s going on. You don’t know anything about it. We’re happy. I’m happy.” Her voice cracks, and for a moment Chris feels a feeling in their gut. One they’re afraid to give a name, because why should Chris Clarke feel guilty? “Isn’t that enough?”

It should be. Chris knows that deep down, under all the anger, the pain, and the jealousy, they should be happy for Kara. She found people who love her. But that gnawing feeling inside them won’t let go. The more they try to bury it, the more it consumes them. They can’t shake the feeling that you’re slipping further away—both of you.

For a long moment, they just sit there, lost in their thoughts. Kara hangs up the phone, but it doesn't stop the storm inside them from raging. Their words tumble out, raw and desperate. “You deserve better than that. Better than them. Aren’t I enough?” They know who the questions are for, and the thought alone sickens them.

[freckles-things]

Out of Time // Part 1

Summary: It took you three separate instances to realise that maybe you just didn’t fit into the team of the BAU. Maybe you should be honest to yourself and just request another transfer. You loved the team, but you were unhappy, feeling left out and unneeded. Feeling like you did not belong.

Pairing: BAU!Team x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: feeling left out, feeling unneeded, being excluded, self worth issues

Part 2 / Part 3

----

It took you three separate instances to realise that maybe you just didn’t fit into the team of the BAU. Maybe your hope of finding your place within their dynamics had been for naught. Maybe you should be honest to yourself and just request another transfer. You loved the team, they were all wonderfully unique and brilliant people. You looked up to every single one of them and learned a lot from them as well. But you were unhappy, feeling left out and unneeded. Feeling like you did not belong.

------

One

It had been a hard case that the team had worked on solving for the past few days. It had been gruesome and they had all felt pretty useless in the first few days since they’d not found a single lead. It had been Spencer’s brilliant thinking that had saved the day earlier this morning, as well as several lives.

The rest of the day had been spent wrapping everything up at the local PD. Since they’d gotten the message that the flight back would only start the following morning, the mood had been pretty relaxed and the spirits had been high. Once back at the Hotel, you decided on taking a hot shower and changed into something comfortable before settling in for a relaxed evening. It had been a stressful week and you were glad for the chance to unwind before getting back to work tomorrow. Lying down in the surprisingly comfortable bed, you switched on the TV and zapped through the channels until you had found something you could stand watching. It took you only two hours to grow bored though, and you decided to take a nightly walk to clear your mind some more before going to bed.

Throwing on a jacket, you made your way out of the hotel and moved to stroll through some of the more livelier streets in the area. You passed bars and restaurants, the odd laundromat and corner store until you passed by a small Chinese restaurant. You would have just walked past it, like you had done with all the other restaurants, if you hadn’t heard a very familiar laugh and excited voices the moment the door opened and a couple stepped out. You peered through the large window into the brightly lit interior just to freeze at the view. Inside was sitting your entire team around a big, round table that was loaded with food and wine. They were all smiling and laughing, even Hotch. Spencer was trying to figure out how to use his chopsticks, while Rossi seemed to be commenting on it until JJ took pity on him and helped out with the good old hair tie trick.

Watching them, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. They seemed content and happy, relaxed. Looking in from the outside, they looked like a slightly odd family. And you clearly weren’t part of it. Your smile dropped and you felt your shoulders hunch in defeat. They’d clearly planned this outing, but no one had invited you. You were fairly new to the team, had only been with them for four month. You had tried really hard to fit in, to befriend them, to find your place within their dynamic. It wasn’t easy. They’d worked together for so many years that they functioned as one. Everyone who joined them would have to struggle to find a place. And it wasn’t that they were rude or didn’t take you seriously. They were friendly and had greeted you openly, assuring you they were looking forward to working with you. It was just that they worked together so well, they sometimes seemed to forget you were there too.

Sighing to yourself, you brushed away the tears that had gathered in the corners of you eyes. You’d wanted to be part of the dynamic so badly, part of this weirdly imperfect perfect chosen family that worked together. You’d wanted to feel like you’d belong. Instead you felt more lonely than ever. Slowly stepping away from the window you sullenly made your way back to the Hotel. The next morning you greeted your colleagues with a smile, resolving to not let them notice that you’d stumbled upon their little get together last night. After all, maybe they just needed some more time to warm up to you. Maybe you just needed some more time to find your place.

And if anyone of them noticed that you were quieter than usual and your gaze held a sadness that wasn’t usually there, none of them said anything about it.

------

Two

It had been a rather slow week at the BAU. Not that it wasn’t welcome. It gave everyone the chance to catch up on their paperwork. Well, except for Reid who seemed to be ahead of them as always. It was rather monotonous and lead to more frequent coffee breaks and more chit chat within the bullpen.

Today you’d decided to make a little detour on your way to work and get their favourite drinks and bagels for everyone as a surprise. Stepping into the bullpen, you were surprised that everyone was being rather quiet. Emily was wearing shades inside and her hair seemed unbrushed. Morgan was sitting at his desk, head tipped back against his chair and eyes closed. Spencer was starring at the same side of his report without flipping the page. Taking a look at the offices upstairs you saw that Hotch was on the phone and looked like his usual stoic self. Rossi however had his lights dimmed considerably and seemed to be staring at the wall.

Placing your goods onto your desk, you grabbed the first few things and delivered them to their respective recipients. Hotch, still on the phone, gifted you with one of his rare smiles and nodded in thanks. Rossi playfully kissed your hand and dramatically declared you the hero of his day, making you giggle at his ridiculous display. JJ wasn’t in yet, so you placed her things on her desk for her to find. Derek gave you a salute as soon as he saw his coffee, forgoing words for chucking half the drink at once. Emily made grabby hands as soon as you moved towards her, smiling brilliantly at you as soon as she had food and caffeine in her hands. Spencer blinked at you in surprise, but smiled gently and muttered a quick thank you.

“Why do they all look like death warmed over?” you chuckle slightly, as you stepped into Garcia’s office to bring her her drink and a bagel.

“Oh, you’re the best Y/N, thanks! They’re all hungover. Had way too much to drink last night at the Club, well except for Bossman and Boy-Wonder of course. But Reid is an absolute lightweight, gets drunk on one cocktail. And Emily made him drink two. It was hilarious. Too bad you couldn’t make it!” Garcia seemed to be her usually peachy self, but she was wearing shades inside as well.

“Yeah, too bad. Sounds like a lot of fun”, you mutter, already on your way back to your desk. You hadn’t known anything about a Club night. Seems like you hadn’t been invited again. This time it hurt just a little more, knowing that none of them had thought to invite you while they must have known that you’d find out the next day when they were hungover. You felt like they were shoving in your face the fact that you didn’t belong. That they’d tolerate you at work, but you had no places in the team and in their lives beyond that. You felt like a fool for buying the drinks and the food. God, you must seem so desperate for their approval. At least Garcia seemed like she wouldn’t have minded having you there.

Feeling your eyes sting, you made a quick detour to the bathroom. You took a few minutes to breathe deeply and splash some water onto your face to hide the slight blotchiness from your tears. Taking another deep breath you moved back to your desk and tried to enjoy your coffee.

Trying to keep your emotions in check, you stayed silent most of the day. You didn’t join the coffee breaks or the chit chat, feeling like you weren’t really wanted there either way. You stayed silent when Derek weaseled some of his own paperwork into your pile to get off work earlier and when the other’s slowly finished their work for the day.

On your way back from the little kitchenette with yet another coffee, you noticed that you and Hotch were the only ones left. It was Friday evening and the team was off the rota for the weekend. A rare occurrence. You were sure that Hotch was wanting to go home to his son, but if the man was anything it was responsible. He was sure to finish the paperwork before he’d go.

Sighing to yourself for the umpteenth time that day, you made your way up the stairs and gently knocked on the door. Hotch called you in immediately.

“Y/L/N, I thought you’d gone home already like everyone else.”

“Nah, didn’t have any plans for today and I wanted to get ahead of the paperwork.” Hotch nodded in understanding, glancing at his own pile. You followed his gaze and shook your head slightly.

“Are those reports that you have to fill in specifically or can either of us do those as well?” Hotch frowned slightly but confirmed that anyone of the team could work on them. You nodded gently and grabbed about half the pile. Hotch of course instantly protested and assured you that he had no problem filling them out on his own.

“I know. But I don’t have any plans and I’m sure Jack will be happy if you get home an hour or two earlier. And you as well”, you said softly while moving back out of his office and to your desk to not give him the chance to protest or argue any more.

An hour later you noticed Hotch getting ready to leave. On his way out he stopped at your desk, thanking you again for helping him out and reminding you not to stay too long. You just nodded and smiled, whishing him a nice weekend with Jack. As soon as he’d left, your shoulders slumped again. Well, even if they didn’t want you to be a part of their lives, you could at least make sure that you had some use for them. And if making sure that they get to leave work a bit earlier and spend time with their loved ones was it, then you wouldn’t complain. And if you grew even more quiet and distant towards the team, they never brought it up.

------

Three

It had been a coincidence that you’d even seen the picture. You’d gone to Garcia, wanting to get the information the team required for the case. The filter had still been running and you’d decided to stay the few minutes it would need to finish. She’d excitedly told you about a new dress she was planning on buying and grabbed her phone to show you.

The lockscreen was a picture of the entire team. Well, more like the entire team except for you. You’d disregarded it and would have assumed that it was an old one, if Spencer didn’t already sport his new haircut he had only gotten last week and if there hadn’t been a small scratch on Hotch’s temple, one that was currently still healing. The picture showed them all grinning at the camera, glasses of wine in hand and seemingly cracking up over something.

Well, there was no need to lie to yourself anymore. You weren’t really part of the team. They didn’t need you, they’d worked well before you’d joined and they still would once you’d left. And they didn’t seem to want you either. For one year you’d tried to find your footing, your own place within the team. You’d given it time. You’d known they were like family and would need time to adjust to someone new as well. They hadn’t though.

It wasn’t like they didn’t take you seriously or disregarded your ideas. Not at all, they always took into account what you thought and listened to what you had to say. Somehow though it didn’t feel like enough. You had wanted to be a part of this brilliant team for a long time now, and in a way you were. But not completely. You liked the work, liked helping people and catching the bad guys. You adored every single person on the team in their own way.

Hotch the stoic leader, who always seemed to be stern and so serious, but smiled at Reid’s antics and first bumped him when he looks sad because Derek didn’t. Who always made sure that his teams was alright, reassuring Garcia that she was exactly what the team needed and made small jokes to make her laugh and encouraged Derek to take on more leading responsibilities. Standing up to anyone who dared to threaten or criticise his team, being the first to puts his job on the line and repeatedly disregarded career prospects to stay with them. The person, who centred the team, who always listened and understood, identifying the input each of them had to offer, and formed it into a plan.

Rossi, who was the teams father figure, always listening to everyone and always having a fitting piece of advice to give. Who didn’t care about his fame and just wanted to help people, not hesitating to use his own resources. Who swore in Italian and could charm anyone if wanted, but deliberately choose not to. Who likes expensive things but never missed a chance to share them and who always had a snarky comment for any situation, bringing his famous spaghetti for lunch on a regular basis.

Derek with his nicknames and his flirting and his stupidly big heart, who just wanted to do right and was stupidly self-sacrificing. The man who started prank wars and tried to get out of doing paperwork and liked to challenge authority, but would never leave anyone hanging. Who demolished and remodelled houses and was the first to offer help in any situation, but not afraid to call anyone out on their bullshit.

Emily with her dark sense of humour and though exterior, who would do anything to protect the team and subtly checked in on everyone to see if they were alright. Who could kick anyone’s ass and didn’t hesitate to do so if she felt it warranted. Who felt so much more than she showed. The Emily that could beat Spencer at cards while being nearly as geeky as him. Who could face the most gruesome of cases without flinching and kept most of her life private.

Spencer with his brilliant mind and his awkward nature, who rambled on and on about any topic and tried to cheer people up with magic tricks. Who listened to people and tried his best to give advice and who was way braver and way stronger than he looked. Who always looked out for his colleagues and friends and tried to help anytime he could, even if he didn’t have a solution yet.

JJ the mother of the group, who was soft and gentle and always had an open ear and an open door, but could be fierce and hard if need be. Who tried to do right by everyone and nearly always succeeded in lightning the mood and making people smile. Who made tough decisions without blinking and stood up for them.

Garcia the colourful whirlwind of cheerfulness and happiness, who was a stark contrast to everything they saw in their job everyday. Garcia, who always had a witty comeback and saved their asses on a regular basis, never quite getting the recognition she deserved. The light in their dark and the glue that held the team together.

But it wasn’t enough. You had played with the thought for weeks now. And you had come to the conclusion that you felt like you didn’t fit within the team. You had no special talent or knowledge, no more than the other members of the team at least. You felt tolerated at work, included even. But seeing them functioning together so well, seeing the unshadowed joy and affections every time they interacted with each other, feeling left out in everything that didn’t directly pertain to a case – you couldn’t do it anymore. For over a year you’d tried your best, given your all just to not be enough, just to still not having a set place within the team. You would miss them terribly, even though you weren’t sure that they’d feel the same. But you refused to be miserable.

So, taking a deep breath and knocking on Hotch’s door once the case was over, you squared your shoulders, stepping in as soon as he answered and moved towards his desk while he asked what he could do for you.

“I want to request a transfer.”

------

Please keep in mind that I'm not a native speaker. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

[readerstories]

Our Alpha - Poolverine x male reader

Someone was talking about A/B/O on my dash, and for some reason my brain took it, ran away with it, and came back with this fic. (AO3)

Warnings/tags: a/b/o dynamics, male reader, porn without much plot, anal, fingering, oral, knotting, friends to lovers

Wordcount: 4937

Summary: Wade and Logan accidentally trigger on of you ruts. Fuckery ensues. (Reader is about the same height as Logan and Wade, has hair, and is clean shaven. Age wise he has had ruts for more than a decade.)

When you first met Logan, you had been surprised that he’s not an alpha. All about him screams alpha, the posturing, caring, the strength. But, after Wade had explained to you that Logan came from a universe where alphas, betas, and omegas are not a thing at all, it made a lot more sense. He’s just Logan, not anything else.

Logan is a great addition to your friend group, even though he takes up a spot you had wanted for a good while, that being the one of Wade’s partner. You have known Wade for years, and he had always been in love with Vanessa, even when they had broken up. So you had long since settled for just being near Wade, and now near Wade and Logan.

Sometimes you will have movie nights over at their apartment, just the three of you. It’s almost a sweet kind of torture, being so close to them with no on else around, but you will take what you can get in just about any context.

Which is why you find yourself in front of their apartment door, ringing the doorbell, bag of snacks in hand.

When Wade opens the door, you are about to greet him like usual, but the words die on your tongue as the smell hits you.

Wade’s blood. Logan’s blood. The lingering scent of sex. Sex between Wade and Logan.

It’s not like you have never smelt any of these scents before, but they’ve never hit you all at once, and so FRESH. 

They’ve clearly just come back from a job, Wade is still in a torn up suit without his mask on, Logan much the same as he steps next to Wade since he’s still just holding the door open.

“You okay?” Wade asks, worry on his face.

Your mind has stopped working, all you can clearly hear is the blood rushing in your ears. All you can feel is your gut stirring alongside your cock.

Fuck, you are going into a rut. 

Your first unplanned one in about a decade.

FUCK.

“I- I- I’m sorry!” You drop the bag and turn on your heel, booking it down the hallway. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you need to get home and fucking deal with this.

How fucking embarrasing.

—---

You get home and change immediately, only putting on a loose set of pants and a t-shirt. You’ll want the clothes off soon enough, but for now you keep them on as you pace you living room, cursing yourself for being sent into a rut by your fucking crushes. You are too old for that kind of shit. You have more control than that.

Your doorbell rings. You ignore it. 

There’s hard knocks on your door. You ignore it. 

Your door is kicked in, this you can’t ignore, finding yourself turned towards the door in a second.

You growl, feeling your canines grow as the sound spills from your open mouth. Your mouth snaps shut as Wade steps into your apartment. He has changed, he’s now wearing some grey sweatpants, sneakers, and a red hoodie. 

But he clearly hasn’t showered, because he still smells like blood and sex, which is making your head swim. Logan is much the same as he follows just behind Wade, a black flannel instead of a hoodie covering his torso. He closes the door behind them both, leaning back against it, keeping some distance while Wade stands just a few steps away from you.

Omega, beta, omega, beta, protect, fuck, scent. Your rut-brain not very helpfully screams.

“You can’t go running like that and not make us think something is super wrong.” The scent of them both is maddening, and it’s only growing thicker with every second they spend it in your apartment. You swallow, clenching your hands at your sides, ignoring the urge to drag the omega Wade closer.

“Nothing is wrong.” You grit out between clenched teeth.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Speaking of pants, you are glad you are wearing loose ones, so at least your hard cock isn’t as obvious as it feels. What is obvious however, is the scent of a rut rolling off you in waves. You wonder how Wade hasn’t noticed it yet as he keeps looking at you, for once showing that he can be patient, waiting for you to speak. 

Logan notices though, taking a few deep sniffs, then pushes off the door. Your eyes snap to him, but he doesn’t return the look, grabbing Wade’s shoulder, making him look at Logan too.

“Wade, what is that smell?” He asks Wade, and your face burns. Of course Logan hasn’t actually smelt a rut before, but with his heightened senses he picks up that something has changed. 

“What?” The skin where Wade’s brows should be scrunches up before he takes a few deep breaths.

Then his head whips towards you, a grin spreading over his face and delight filling up his brown and beautiful eyes.

“Someone’s going into ~rut~" Wade almost sings as he keeps grinning. You are breathing heavily, though you stutter as Wade licks his lips, and all your mind supplies you with is how good they would feel on you. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever smelt that on you during the time we’ve known each other.” That had been on purpose, you always stayed away from Wade around your ruts, always able to find some excuse that never made him question it, at least not to your face. “What made that change?” Your eyes flicker between him and Logan, taking in how they are both paying full attention to you. It makes the alpha in you purr in satisfaction, you resist the urge to let the noise out, suppressing the urge to preen under their shared attention. Wade gasps, taking your looks and silence as an answer.

“Logan? Well done peanut, didn’t think you had it in you!” He turns around and squishes Logan’s face in his hands.  The shifting of their attention away from you to just each other almost makes you growl, but instead of a noise out of your mouth, you manage to find a few words.

“Both of you.” Wade’s head whips around again, and he grins.

“Ohhh, greedy little alpha.” This time you let out a growl. If he’s going to be an ass about this, you rather not have him near, even as much as all your instincts are screaming at you to grab them both and show them who the alpha is. Their alpha.

“Just leave.” The words feel wrong leaving your mouth, like ash covering your tongue when all you want to feel is the heat of the men in front of you. 

You blink slowly as Wade invades your personal space, throwing his arms around your neck, but he doesn’t touch anymore of your body. Your mind screams to grab his hips so you can have him fully against you, but the little self control you have left makes your arms stay at your side. His scent is strong this close, you want more of it, so you close your eyes, letting yourself at least have that. His smell is familiar to you, burnt sugar, leather, and gunpowder, all with an undercurrent of omega. Your omega.

He chuckles, fingers treading through the hair on the back of your neck.

“Come on, what would you rather do? Spend the next however many days stuck with just your own hands and a knotting fleshlight for company, or do you rather want two hot sets of hands and two hot bodies on you at all times?” Your eyes open to first look at Wade, then at Logan, who’s still standing a few steps away.

“Two? When did I get dragged into this?” He tilts his head, you see Wade grin in the corner of your eye as you and Logan look at each other.

“Like you haven’t looked and thought about it.” Logan shrugs just as a hand hooks itself under your chin, and your gaze is redirected back to Wade.

“So, what do you say?” You are not going to say anything, but you are definitely going to do something as the little control you had slips through your fingers. 

You grab Wade’s hips and pull him flush against you, swallowing the little noise he lets out as you press your lips against his. They are softer than you thought, if a little bumpier than other people that you’ve kissed before. Not that anyone else matters right now, as the hand in your hair tightens as you deepen the kiss, stealing breaths as your lips move against one another.

Your tongue brushes against his lips, asking for entry, which Wade gladly gives with a little noise you try to chase with your tongue. The inside of his mouth is soft and warm, an untouched part of his skin. Your fingers push his hoodie up just enough to feel the skin on his stomach and hips while your tongue dances with his, making him let out these little gasps you take in greedily.

Wade is the one that breaks the kisses, which you make a sound at that you will forever deny is a whimper, but at least it gives you the opportunity to kiss down the side of his neck instead as your fingers press into Wade’s bare hips.

“Come on peanut, your turn.” You lick over his neck as he speaks, feeling his pulse under your tongue. You see movement in the corner of your eye, which makes you look to the side, mouth still on Wade’s neck as you see Logan step closer.

Everything about him screams alpha to your brain, your mind not all there in the warmth of your rut. The growl starts low in your chest, which makes Logan raise an impressive brow where he now stands next to you and Wade.

“No, bad dog!” Wade slaps your chest, making you stop kissing his neck, directing your attention back to his face. The growl dies in your chest, but you huff at him. “Don’t you fucking start, just smell him.” Wade reaches out and grabs Logan, yanking him close, pressing him against the side of your bodies with just a small grunt of protest from Logan. Your eyes flicker between them, the alpha in you wanting to satisfy your omega, so you move just slightly, just enough that you can push your nose against Logan’s neck while keeping your hold on Wade.

You take a deep breath in, letting Logan’s scent wash over you. He smells like he always does, pine, tobacco, and coffee, but now with a delicious add-on of sweat, blood, Wade, and sex. A noise starts up in your chest again, but this time it’s a purr as you lick over the warm skin under your mouth, drinking in Logan’s scent and taste. He startles as the first touch of your tongue, but tilts his head to the side to give you more access, and a warm hand settles on your hip.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Wade mutters, the purr in your chest just deepens as he lets out a little laugh. “I’ve always called Logan kitty because of his hair, but all along it’s been you that's the kitty.” You lean back from Logan, replacing your mouth on his neck with a hand. You lean in to kiss Wade again, but is stopped by his hand over your mouth. Your purring stops as you look at him with confusion.

“As much as I will let you ravage me anywhere in the future, let's move this to a bed?” You do not like being stopped, but the word future and all its implications you do, so you must concede that the idea of soft sheets under you is a great one. 

So, you do the next logical step, letting go of them both so you can bend down and throw Wade over your shoulder. He yelps in surprise, but relaxes as you grab Logan’s hand and start to walk towards your bedroom.

“Great view from up here.” A hand grabs at your ass, which makes Logan snort behind you, and the alpha part of your brain happy with how you are doing well with your mates.

You throw Wade down on your bed, he settles after a little bounce, not having time to do anything else besides opening his legs as you crawl up onto the bed and settle between them. He grabs your hair and tries to pull you into a kiss, but your mouth descends on his neck instead.

“Oh, yeah, this was worth those many words of build up.” You roll your hips against him, your hard cock sliding deliciously against his quickly hardening one. The smart thing would have been to get both of your clothes off before getting into bed, but all you want is to be pressed close, no time for anything else. 

Wade doesn’t quite seem to agree though, as his hands push at your waistband. Your main focus is on his neck, tongue licking over his textured skin, tasting the slight salt of sweat mixed with Wade’s scent, and the sweet aroma of omega. Your omega.

“Come on honey badger, little help here?” The bed dips next to you, and then there’s a second set of hands pushing at your pants. They slide down easily until they hit the bend of your knees, which you are gently encouraged to lift, one at the time. Your mouth keeps working over Wade’s neck, over what you can reach while he has his hoodie on. You pull on the collar of it, a thought forming of trying to just rip it off him, but the thought is quickly gone as hands push at your chest. You growl, not wanting to take your mouth of Wade for even a second.

You are made to do so however, as you’re yanked back by the collar of your t-shirt, which is then quickly pulled over your head. You snarl at Logan, who just throws your t-shirt to the side and raises an unimpressed brow at you. The alpha in you craves control, so grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

He’s quick to return it, giving as good as he gets. Slightly chapped lips opening for you so willingly as your tongue presses against his lips, his own tongue meeting yours in a way that makes electricity zip down your spine. You feel your cock leak pre-cum, even though Logan’s hands are only on your shoulders. 

You keep his head still with your grip in his hair, licking into his mouth between deep breaths and scenting the air. Arousal rolls of him, making him smell stronger, and more and more right by the second.

You are just about to twist sound fully and push him onto his back so you can crawl over him, your hands moving to his still clothed chest ready to do so, but you are distracted by a textured hand grasping your cock. 

You break your kiss with Logan, looking down at Wade, who has during your kisses with Logan undressed fully. He’s hairless all over, all lean muscle rippling as he shifts. His legs are splayed open, his hard cock standing at attention, slick leaking slowly from between his thighs. His hand pumps your cock slowly, grinning as both of you look at him, and your mouth fills with drool as you take a few deep breaths to fill your nose with the scent of him too.

“Was starting to feel left out.” You let go of Logan, who immediately starts to unbutton his flannel as you fall back between Wade’s open legs. One of your hands slips down to his cock, giving it a few strokes, mirroring his hand on your cock. His hand not on your cock tugs at your hair, his knees pressing into the side of your hips.

“Hmmm, hey there alpha.” The title runs off Wade’s tongue so easily, it sounds so right, so your purr starts up again as you move your hand from his cock to between his legs where slick leaks out of him. His breath hitches as you slip two fingers into him, the digits sinking in with ease as he tilts his head back, putting his neck on display for you.

You lean in to kiss over it, letting teeth dance over the skin in a tease of a bite. He rocks down onto your hand as you slip a third finger inside, his hand around your cock tightening and making you grunt.

You need to get inside him soon, or this round might be over too quick for anyone's liking.

You pull your fingers out from Wade, turning your head as you hold them out towards Logan, who was just about to pull his pants off. He pauses, glances as Wade, before he looks at you. He then leans forwards as keeps eye contact with you, sliding your fingers into his mouth. He sucks and licks at your digits, tasting Wade on you, making you and Wade groan in unison. You from the tight feeling of his mouth around your fingers which makes you imagine it going elsewhere, Wade from how good Logan looks with his mouth occupied.

“Fucking hell peanut.” Logan grins, pulling off your fingers with an obscene pop. You lean on your elbows over Wade as you watch Logan take his pants off, leaving him fully nude too. He’s a lot hairier and bulkier than Wade, a beautiful contrast. He’s fully hard as well, kneeling next to you and Wade. One of his hands brushes over one of Wade’s legs where it’s pressed against your side. 

You turn your head back towards Wade, leaning down and rubbing your face over his neck and shoulders, purring again. His head shifts, and then there’s the sound of kissing above you. Your purr only stutters with a growl for a second before a solid hand joins Wade’s on your cock, and guides you against Wade’s hole. 

The hands fall away, and with a single thrust you are fully seated inside Wade, balls resting against him. You feel him gush around you as he moans loudly, hand in your hair tightening for a moment before it loosens.

“There you go alpha, come on.” Wade’s hands dance over your back as you lick over his neck. He’s so warm and wet around your cock, so perfect, like he was made for you. For the moment you just grind down against him, pressing him into the bed with your full weight. It traps his cock between the two of you, making him leak all over your stomachs. 

Your grinding doesn’t last for long however, as you pull your hips back so you can start fucking into Wade. Small movements at first, barely moving as you keep your mouth on his neck, sucking hickeys into textured skin that disappear in seconds. It irritates part of you that it won’t stay, but part of you also is happy with the neverending space to make new marks on him. 

Your head swirls with the thought of mate mate mate mate, arousal building with every second, making you speed up, and Wade moans loudly as you do so.

“Yes, yes, alpha” Wade's breath stutters at a particularly hard thrust. “Give me your knot.” You growl in satisfaction, hearing your omega beg while his hands grasps over your back is just how it should be.

“Knot?” Logan’s voice talks over Wade’s little moans and groans, and the wet sound of you filling Wade with your cock over and over again.

“Oh yeah, this is like a new sex ed for you. Rememb- AH, fuck -I told you, alpha’s has knots- shit, shit, shit- makes their dick swell and makes them stuck inside- Inside! Ah! -their partner. It’s an evolut~ion~ thing, to make it really have an opportunity to stick. I- I- I- can’t actually get kids, buT I don’t think that’s go-go-gonna stop our little greeeeeedy alpha here from try-ing!” Hearing Wade struggling to explain to Logan while you fuck him makes you grin against his skin. You shift up to kiss him, to steal his moans and grunts right out of his mouth. He clutches as you, knees pressing hard enough against your side that you are sure you are going to bruise your hips. You keep fucking into him, but push at one leg so he folds it up. Logan pushes at the other leg, making Wade fold in half underneath you. The two of you hold him in place as you pound into him, chasing your orgasm.

Another wet sound joins the cacophony of wonderful sounds in the room, which makes you stop kissing Wade and lean back a little. Wade keeps his eyes closed, and moans loudly and arches his back as soon as his lips are free. You look at Logan, who has the hand not on Wade around his own cock. You slow down your thrusts into Wade ever so minutely, making him whimper and open his eyes, looking at you first, then glancing at Logan. Wade whimpers again as you growl.

“Stop touching.” It’s the first words you’ve said during this whole thing, you don’t know if that is what makes Logan listen, or if it’s the scent of alpha you can feel rolling off you as your hips keep rolling into Wade. You know the scent is strong, especially for someone with his nose.

“Fucking hell, hot as hell, alpha, alpha!” Wade splutters, hole fluttering around your cock.

“Mine.” You growl, shifting so you can lean down and take Logan’s cock into your throat as you keep fucking into Wade. They moan in unison, making your head scream the word mine over and over and over again. Your head swims with arousal, the scent and taste of them pushing you closer and closer with each passing second.

Logan is heavy on your tongue, leaking precum as you swallow around him, tongue stroking over veins as you bob your head up and down.

Wade is moaning below you, clutching and pulling at you, each snap of your hips against him making him leak against his stomach.

Your own cock is leaking inside Wade, your precum mixing beautifully with his slick. You can feel that you’re close, so close. You need your mouth back on Wade, but you also need Logan in it. You groan around him, making your throat vibrate around his cock in your throat. One of your hands moves to grasp at his cock, pumping it as you suckle on his head.

A barely there graze of your teeth on your next suck is what sends him over the edge. His hands are in your hair, but he doesn’t push as you drink him down. 

Swallowing the last remnants of his cum, you shift your focus fully to Wade. Your hands push at his thighs, mouth going to his shoulder. This time it’s not a hickey you make, instead you mark him with your teeth as your canines grow and you bite down hard enough to taste blood. It explodes over your tongue, mixing with the taste of Logan’s cum in your mouth.

“ALPHA!” Wade yells as loudly as he comes all over your stomachs. It makes him tighten around you, and you feel your own orgasm coming. Your teeth let go of his shoulder, but you keep your mouth on him to lick over the quickly healing skin.

Your orgasm hits you hard, cum pumping into Wade with each move of your hips, which soon slows as you feel your knot expand, trapping you and Wade together. 

You catch your breath, panting against Wade’s neck, licking your lips as you take breaths, tasting the scent of sex in the air.

You start purring, rubbing your face against any part of Wade you can reach without jostling the two of you too much. He smells so much of you already, but you can’t help yourself. He lets out a breathless little laugh as he threads a hand through your hair, his other stroking over your back is slow motions.

“Good thing you’re clean shaven, or else I would have some serious beard burns.” You hum, feeling your brain turn a little clearer with every second that passes. You feel another hand join Wade’s on your back, and you look to your side, where Logan is sitting, legs stretched out and leaning on one hand while the other dances lightly over your sweaty skin. 

Mind a little bit more with you, you shift more onto your knees, and with some careful maneuvering, you manage to get you and Wade on your sides, your back pressing against one of Logan’s outstretched legs with Wade’s around your waist. The movement causes you both to let out a little moan, which makes you want to start purring again, but you don’t for the moment.

“How long will this last?” Logan asks from above you, hand moving from you back to your hair as Wade scratches both of his down your back now.

“My knot should go down in half an hour or so.” You lean forward to catch Wade’s lips in a brief kiss. “My ruts tend to last about three days.” You look up at Logan, eye flicking to his lips, which gets the message across. He leans down and places a light kiss on your lips. You can’t help the little content hum that slips out of you. Everyone is satisfied for the moment, and it’s really hard to not start purring again, but some part of you should actually try to talk a little now that you have your non-rut brain back for a little bit. But Wade beats you to it, of course.

“We are going to need to order so much takeaway, I’m guessing you don’t have a rut stash.” His hands knead into your shoulders, wonderful pressure that makes you sigh and close your eyes.

“I don’t, I wasn’t supposed to have another one for a few more months.” You feel your cheeks heat up at the admission, but should you really be embarrassed when this has been the outcome?

“Rut stash?” Another question from above you. Oh yeah, Logan doesn’t know this, though earlier it had sounded like Wade had at least tried to explain some aspects of all of this.

“Well, when one is fucking like rabbits, you use a lot of energy peanut, and that has to come from somewhere. A fuckton of food and water mostly.” Logan’s hand in your hair massages your scalp, between him and Wade’s motions you feel almost ready to fall asleep, so it’s with great effort that you open your eyes. You tilt your head back to look at Logan, licking your lips to gather your thoughts, somehow managing to stay focused even as Wade moves forward just enough to bury his nose against your throat.

“It’s normal to have a stash since ruts tend to be somewhat regular, just like heats, though they can be triggered. For example, an alpha’s omega going into heat.”

“Wade’s not in heat though?” Logan tilts his head and Wade chuckles against your skin.

“Which is why I thought it was you that triggered the rut first, but no, our alpha is just greedy.” Hearing Wade so casually and no longer in the moment referring to you as their alpha makes your heart beat faster, and your cock leak, which in turn makes Wade let out a little satisfied groan as he clenches down on your knot. Which makes you moan again.

“It’s like a feedback loop.” Logan mutters above you, looking down to where you are trapped inside Wade, and will be for a while.

“Better to do it from behind normally, easier to spoon.” Wade says, a little breathlessly as he clenches down on you with purpose, making you growl a warning. He chuckles, booping your nose.

Logan is still looking down at where you are joined, which Wade takes notice of with a grin. So he can’t help but tease.

“Think you could take it? You might need a little more prep but…” Wade lets the words hang in the air, making both you and Logan imagine it. 

Fuck, Logan on back or even on his knees, begging for your cock, begging for your knot? Knowing he would need more effort, more desperation? It makes your cock leak inside Wade, who’s breath hitches as he feels you, and then your breath hitches as you see Logan’s spent cock give a minute little twitch.

“Fuck, my beautiful little perverts.” Wade teases, making you roll your eyes, and Logan snorts out a little laugh.

“Pot calling the kettle.” Logan swats at Wade’s thigh, which makes him move, which in turn makes him clench around you again.

“Careful.” You grunt out, grabbing Logan’s hand. He grins down at you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

“No promises.” He lets go of your hand, you swat at his thigh in return.

“Go get us some water or something since we are stuck here. The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Logan rolls his eyes, but gets up anyway.

“Ohhh, that we can promise, pookie.” Wade grins, clenching around you on purpose again, making you grunt and Logan glance over his shoulder just before leaving the room.

You can hardly wait for whatever happens next.

[munsonluhvr]

NOT SO WELL HIDDEN SECRET

steddie x reader fic, sfw! when dustin catches you kissing Eddie, when you're supposed to be in a relationship with Steve, the three of you are forced to tell your friend the truth about your secret poly relationship. word count - 2.4k

It had been going so well. Somehow, you, Steve and Eddie managed to keep your throuple relationship a secret, hiding it from all of Hawkins and your friends. Through the several months since you and Steve, who have been dating for several years, added Eddie to your relationship, you kept it between the three of you, meeting up in the dark of the night. Steve’s parents constantly being gone all the time and Eddie’s uncle working at night made the perfect environment to foster your new relationship dynamic. There had only been one instance where you were sure your relationship had been exposed; it was only a matter of time really. 

You sat at Benny’s Burgers with Steve, Eddie, and Dustin Henderson; the unknowing fourth wheel. It was quiet at Benny’s, the brutal murder of the owner causing people to abandoned the once popular spot, but you and your friends enjoyed the quietness of the restaurant, feeling as if you had rented out the place just for you to go. 

Dustin had laughed so hard at a joke Eddie had made that he spit out his soda that he sipped through the red and white stripped straw. You, Eddie, and Steve laughed in response, your cheeks starting to burn from smiling so hard. “It’s been so long since we’ve all gone out together,” Dustin says through his laughs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with any of you, actually.” 

“Life gets busy, Henderson.” Steve says, his body tensing. Steve already knew where the conversation was headed. 

Dustin scoffs, placing his cup on the tabletop. “You’re telling me. You three are busy all the time. Whenever Eddie is busy, so is y/n and Steve; whenever y/n is busy, so is Eddie and Steve; whenever Steve is busy, so is y/n and Eddie,” Dustin says almost to himself. “Are you guys hanging without me?” 

You look down at the burger that’s wrapped in its paper that rests in your lap, your stomach twinging. You hated to lie to your friends, especially to Dustin. Your friendship meant with him meant something to you and you knew for a fact that Steve and Eddie felt strongly about Dustin, wanting to always be there for him and protect him. The four of you had forged a special relationship, and it helped that Mike and Eleven, Lucas and Max were in their own worlds in relationships. Now, you , Steve and Eddie had, in some way, left Dustin to fend for himself. 

You shook your head. “I’ve just been really busy with school committee and debate.” 

Eddie follows your lead. “My uncle has had me strapped to the house to help him with some repairs; it’s like one thing after another.” 

You, Eddie, and Dustin look to Steve to hear his excuse. Steve’s eyes grow wide. “Yeah, I’ve been picking more shifts up at work at Scoops Ahoy and Robin has been taking up all my time bitching about some girl she likes..” Steve says, looking to you for approval. 

Dustin hums, biting into his burger. “Excuses,” Dustin mumbles, shaking his head. Across the table, Steve shifts uncomfortably and beside you, Eddie shakes his head. The guilt riddled all three of you. 

You look at Dustin, trying to be sympathetic towards his feelings. Dustin’s face, however, clearly expresses his suspicion but you know your little lies buy you a little more time for you, Steve, and Eddie to pull together an explanation for your secret relationship. 

Later that night, back in Steve’s grand living room, the three of you experience your first argument. 

“I didn’t like lying to him,” Eddie exclaims, laying against the arm of Steve’s family couch. You look at Eddie from where you sit on the other end of the couch. “None of us did, Eddie. You think Steve and I wanted to lie to Dustin?” 

Steve paces across his living room, his hands planted on his hips. “We just have to figure out how to introduce our relationship to people, it’s been several months, and this relationship isn’t ending anytime soon.” Steve says but realizes his assumption. “Wait- right? This relationship isn’t ending anytime soon?”

You nod, rolling your eyes, and Eddie glances at Steve, an annoyed look on his face. “No, it’s not ending anytime soon,” You and Eddie say at the same time, sharing a glance.

“Okay, then we have to do it soon, everybody should know.” Steve says, standing in one spot, his arms crossed.  “It’s about time.”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. “It’s just complicated, our relationship is still niche, its the 80s, not many people will understand it.” 

Eddie grunts, sitting upright. “Not much else will impact my reputation, I’m already Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.” 

You place your hand on Eddie’s knee. “We’ll figure it out, overtime, let’s just try to avoid Dustin's questions about our absence, like change the subject, so we don’t have to lie to him.” 

Steve and Eddie hum in response, easing their shoulders down. Promising to figure out how to reveal your relationship to Hawkins brought some hope; it’d be nice to not have to meet at night, hiding behind Eddie and Steve’s front doors. As it has been said before – it was only a matter of time. 

Dustin watches from the front of Hawkins High as Steve’s station wagon pulls into the parking lot, you in the passenger seat. Initially, Dustin was waiting for Lucas to get to school, but he becomes entranced by watching you and Steve that he no longer scans the parking lot in search of his friend. 

Dustin watches as you open the passenger door to Steve’s car, leaning through the open window to place a long, deep kiss on Steve’s mouth; Steve’s uniform giving away that he’s clearly headed to work a shift at Scoops Ahoy, dropping you off at school as a courtesy. “Gross,” Dustin mumbles, watching you and Steve’s mouths entangle with each other. Dustin watches Steve mumble ‘I’ll pick you up after school’ against your lips. Dustin remembers when Steve would pick him up after school, taking him wherever he wanted to go. 

 A car behind Steve honks, pulling you and Steve apart. You wave to Steve, looking over your shoulder as you walk into the school. As Steve pulls away from the school, and away from you, Lucas slides up to Dustin, instantly rambling about how Max is mad at him for the second time that week. 

It’s early, school not beginning for thirty more minutes, but you had been dropped off at school early, hoping to say hello to Eddie before his early Hellfire meeting and before the school day starts. If you had been more thoughtful, you would have realized that a Hellfire meeting needs Hellfire members, and that two of them were trailing behind you in the hallway, headed to the same classroom. 

You reach the classroom where the Hellfire club meets, slipping in the room without looking over your shoulder. Dustin frowns noticing you slip into the classroom, ignoring Lucas who still rambles beside him. “They do hang out without me,” Dustin thinks to himself, a flame of anger sparking inside him. 

“I’m going to the bathroom before the meeting starts” Lucas says, breaking off from Dustin suddenly. Dustin ignores Lucas, opening the door to crack it open. Dustin peers in, about to yell, make a big deal about how all three of you sat and Benny’s and lied to his face, but he’s stopped by what he sees. Your arms are thrown around Eddie’s neck, your bodies pressed together. Eddie’s arms are wrapped around your waist, one of his hands tucked into your pants pockets.

Dustin’s jaw slacks, not believing what his eyes are seeing. You lean on your tip toes, pushing your lips into Eddie’s, his mouth happily obliging to be pressed against yours. Dustin continues to watch,  seeing how you and Eddie’s mouth pull away, Eddie leaning down to whisper something into your ear that makes you laugh, your cheeks tinting pink. 

Dustin feels conflicted, but most of all he has hatred towards you and Eddie. Dustin knows that Eddie knows you and Steve are in a relationship, you had been for a year before Eddie joined the friend group – How could Eddie help you cheat on Steve? Dustin feels sick, letting the door close shut gently. He leans against the tiled wall, his mind racing with too many thoughts. 

Seconds later, you push the door open, entering back into the hallway. You notice Dustin leaning against the wall, his face contorted painfully. Your heart beats rapidly; you had totally forgot that Dustin, or any of the other Hellfire members would be headed to the room at the same time. 

“Dustin?” you say, watching as his eyes flick to you. “Are you okay,? You look sick.” 

Dustin clears his throat, pushing himself off the wall. His eyes flick across the hallway, looking anywhere but at you. “Yeah, a little. Were you visiting Eddie before school starts?” 

You frown, nodding as you tilt your head to the side. “Yeah, I brought him lunch, you know how he always forgets to pack it himself. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Dustin nods, “Uh-huh.” 

You reach out, pinching his face between your fingers. “If you start to feel unwell, go to the nurse.” And you walk off, trying to act calm as you sense Dustin may be catching on. 

By the end of the day, Dustin is fuming. The eight hours in school proving to be a toxic environment for thoughts to brew. It had been almost impossible for Dustin to look at Eddie for the entire Hellfire meeting, Lucas noticing and asking him if he was all right. Eddie, too, noticed, wrapping his arm around Dustin sympathetically as he ushered the Hellfire members out of the classroom. At lunch, Dustin almost threw up watching you and Eddie laugh across the lunch table, jokes flying between you two with ease. How dare you flirt so casually, Dustin thinks, and Steve isn’t even here to put a stop to it. 

Dustin had made himself sick, thinking about different scenarios on how he would have to tell Steve what he saw in the Hellfire meeting room, it would surely break Steve’s heart and break up the small group that you, Eddie, Dustin, and Steve had created. While Dustin’s other friends had been pairing up, becoming too busy to spend time with Dustin, you, Steve, and Eddie, Dustin’s older friends, had taken him in, providing him a safe refuge. Now you and Eddie had ruined it all, now Dustin would have to ruin it too; it would all be done once he told Steve. 

When Dustin walks out of Hawkins High after school has concluded, he sees Steve already parked in front of the school, leaning up against his car as he talks to several kids who Dustin knew were Steve’s friends while he went to school at Hawkins. Though Steve had graduated, he would always be ‘King Steve.’ 

“Steve,” Dustin says, approaching Steve and the other kids that crowd around Steve’s car. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Steve frowns, but nods, saying goodbye to the few that he had been talking to while waiting for you to come out of school. 

“What’s up, Henderson? You don’t look too good.” Steve says, placing a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. 

“I saw something bad today and I’m afraid to tell you because you’re going to be really upset, especially at y/n and Eddie, and it’s going to ruin everything-“ Dustin rambles, his voice cracking. 

“Woah, woah,” Steve says, interrupting Dustin. “What did you see?” 

“I saw Eddie and y/n kiss in the Hellfire meeting room, this morning.” Dustin says, his eyes wide like saucers. 

Steve sighs, looking up and over Dustin. In his eyesight, Steve sees you and Eddie standing against the outside of the high school, talking to one of your debate friends. “Come with me,”  Steve says grabbing ahold of Dustin’s forearms. Dustin squeals, reluctantly following Steve across the parking lot. 

“Excuse us,” Steve says to your friend once he and Dustin approach where you and Eddie were standing. Steve grabs your forearm, pulling both you and Dustin to the side of the school, hidden by the trees that line the side of the building. Eddie follows behind you three, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. 

“Go,” Steve says to Dustin. “Tell y/n and Eddie what you saw this morning.” 

Dustin narrows his eyes at you and Eddie, his arms crossing against his chest. “I saw you two making out, almost having sex if I do say so myself.” Your jaw slacks, glancing at Eddie. 

“We were not-“ You start to object but you know it’s no use. You sigh. “Dustin we have to tell you something.” 

You glance at Eddie, then Steve, both look at you, gesturing towards your young friend. You sigh once more. “We’re in a relationship. All of us. Eddie, Steve, and I are dating; it’s called a throuple or polyamory.” At first, Dustin says nothing, his eyes pinging from you, to Steve, to Eddie. 

Dustin’s jaw slacks, the realization kicking in. 

“A relationship? You’re gay?” Dustin says to Steve and Eddie. Both Steve and Eddie mumble nonsense. “I think it’s called bisexual; I don’t know what we are honestly.” Steve says, shaking his head, using his arms while talking.

“So,” Dustin says, his eyes still flicking to the three of you. “You know that Eddie and y/n kiss? Do you three have sex together?” Dustin exclaims, his eyes growing bigger and bigger. With a groan, Eddie buries his face into his hands, shaking his head. 

“Dustin,” you interject, shaking your head. “That is not the point. The point is that Steve knows that Eddie and I kiss and hangout with each other when he isn’t there and he’s okay with it. And that our relationship is something we’ve hidden from you and we’re sorry – it’s still new and we don’t know how everyone will react when we are more open about whatever this is between the three of us.” 

“So, nobody else knows?” Dustin asks, his arms unraveling from in front of him. 

“Nobody, just you. Can we keep it a secret until we figure out how to tell the others?” You ask, hoping Dustin will comply. “You’ll tell them all eventually, right?” Dustin asks. 

Steve nods. “Of course, Henderson.” 

Dustin hesitates, still confused by the whiplash of thinking you were cheating on Steve with Eddie to learning that Steve knows and you three are in a relationship with each other. Finally, Dustin nods. “Okay,” Dustin asks, a little relief hitting him that he still has his friend group. “But can we go back to hanging out with each other all the time?” 

[lizzyk137]

Genuis Vs Genuis: A Spencer Reid Story (Spencer X Reader)

Summary: Spencer and you have known each other academically since they were kids and never got off on the right foot. When you transfer over to the F.BI. behavioral unit from N.C.I.S., Spencer starts to not play nice. Warning: Angst, swearing, mentions of death/murder.

Part 2 on its way! Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

The day started off great. It was actually relaxing for Spencer. His files had been finished and no new cases had presented themselves in the last couple of days. So there he sat, coffee in hand as he watched the team fool around as he threw in a chuckle here and there. He was content.

It was all good till he heard the shrill of your voice calling his name out.

He turned away from the group to see you bounding over to him, enfulfing him into a hug before his brain could even register the what, why and how's of the situation.

The team snickered at the interaction, the newcomer's face bright and happy with the biggest grin while Spencer's was a face of horror.

He had no idea how you found him or why you were here but he wanted you gone.

"Spence! It's been so long! How have you been?" You asked, ignoring the physical cringe Spencer had given to you using his nickname.

He collected his thoughts and replied with a short but curt answer of fine, then went back to drinking his coffee like it was the only way it could get rid of you.

The smile you had on your face couldn't hide the hurt that you felt. You thought after years of not seeing each other and maturing into adults that Spencer would at least come around to being nice to you or at least be polite. But Spencer was still the Spencer you knew. Childish. Though you'd never say it outloud it was clearly present for all to see once they got to see the dynamic between you two.

You were academic rivals growing up. You never met each other until high school but growing up you saw your names in the paper or during award ceremonies. You were always fighting for the top spot even if it wasn't the intention. Both of you were the same, no matter how much Spencer fought it. Both having the same IQ (187, to which Spencer would claim that you can't accurately quantify intelligence), and you both had an eidetic memory along with being able to read 20,000 words per minutes. You were practically the female version of him.

He hated you though. During elementary school and middle school, he enjoyed the competition. It pushed him to be better, but when high school came, it just got annoying. He didn't fit in to begin with and with teachers and students comparing the both of you together, it was a blow to what little ego he had.

You both finally came face to face during an awards ceremony during your highschool years. He remembered it clearly. You coming up to him before the ceremony, introduced yourself and then acted like you both were best friends and stuck to him like glue throughout the whole thing. Both of your families cooing at the sight of the both of you, a giant grin on your face while he scowled.

Spencer and you had ended up going to the same college- Caltech. He never told you where he was going but somehow on the first day of school, you came running up to him so happy to see him. All throughout his college years he couldn't shake you. Always making the same friends, always inviting him places, showing up at the same places he was. It annoyed him to no ends. You even forced him to attend a house party where you both partook in too much alcohol causing a lapse of time where you both have no idea what happened. You could later recall waking up next to Spencer in bed, both of you had no clothes on while you struggled to wake him up and get changed as the cops busted up the place. To which Spencer still denies since he can't remember a thing.

Three years before joining the BAU, you disappeared out of his life, which he was beyond grateful for. At first it made him nervous cause you just disappeared without a word to him, but then he eventually put his thoughts elsewhere and the thought of you never arose in his mind until now.

"Everyone, this is Dr. Y/N Y/LN. She's from NCIS. She works as a forensic specialist there along with a field agent." Hotch spoke to the group before him as he watched them eye you. "She's been assigned to our team to get more of an understanding with profiling for their team back at NCIS. She'll be working on cases with us for the next couple of months."

You smiled and gave a little wave to the team, a few waving back and all of them but Spencer smiling up at you. Hotch gave a small squeeze on your shoulder then climbed the stairs to his office.

An older gentleman came up to you first, introducing himself as Rossi, then the rest of the team introduced themselves. Your profiling wasn't the greatest but you could tell they were curious to know what was going on between Spencer and yourself. Your lips were sealed for the time being though, you could tell Spencer still didn't care for you and for the sake of your learning and the work environment you decided it best not to bring up anything.

You knew Spencer didn't care for you. As much as you were alike academically, you were the opposite socially. Your parents brought you up letting you enjoy being a kid, having you socialize with kids your age even if you weren't in the same grade at school. They wanted normalcy in your life since school was the exact opposite. Growing up, you had always wanted to meet Spencer. You saw his pictures and had developed a little crush on him which only grew as you got older. You thought he would appreciate a friend who could understand him, so you put yourself out there, always trying to be friendly and be there for him. Have him experience things that people your age where doing or things that college kids would attend or do. Nothing pleased him though. You made friends only to find out that they were friends with him which only made him dislike you more. You tried to pull away from him because you could tell he wasn't fond of you, but the universe kept pushing you together.

The only thing that got you two apart was the Navy. You enlisted and past all their requirements and you were given the opportunity to help build communities back up in the Middle East with new housing and building's and eventually helping with creating medication for underdeveloped communities that were affordable along with equipment and weapons that could help serve the Navy. You were doing good, but your heart still yearned for Spencer, no matter who you tried to get to replace him. You came to love Spencer throughout your college years, while he came to resent you even more. You wanted to tell him you were leaving but he never came the night before your enlistment date. Leaving you stranded in the park at night with a broken heart.

You had started at NCIS five years ago, you were a forensic specialist working side by side with Abby. You were both Ying and Yang to each other, best friends but the polar opposite appearance wise which you loved. While she wore black, you wore white or pastels. She called you her angel which everyone adopted into becoming your nickname.

When Vance came to you with a chance to learn more about profiling from the BAU, you took it. You were good as a field agent and even better with a weapon. It hurt to leave your family, but Gibbs assured you that the team you were working with was great. Fornell vouched for them too, and you were excited to meet the team. As you entered the glass doors, you were surprised to see Spencer there sipping his coffee, his smile setting butterflies off in your stomach.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, you can call me Angel though! It's really nice to meet everyone."

"Angel?" Emily questioned, as she took a seat.

"Um, yeah, my team calls me it back home because I wear a lot of white." You gestured to your all while jumpsuit and blazer.

"And you're a forensic specialist and a field agent and you wear white?" Morgan asked as he eyed you, with a small smirk on his face.

"Yeah, it's my colour. Plus, I know enough not to get too dirty." You laughed. You rummaged through your bag, pulling out a picture of the team back home and showed it to the new team standing before you. "This is my family back home. The girl in all black is the other forensic specialist I work with."

Rossi chuckled. "I think she would get along with our Penelope. She's got quite the wardrobe."

"I met with her the other day, she's sweet."

The rest of the morning was spent with getting to know everyone, Spencer alone at his desk annoyance written all over him as he watched his team, his family, surround your desk laughing and having a good time.

Weeks have gone by and the atmosphere surrounding Spencer and you was staring to become sour more each day. You tried your hardest to work well with everyone and bring as much as you could to each case in order to solve it, but Spencer hated that. It felt like with each case, you were getting better at figuring out the clues that he could. Each case seemed to get easier for you as you made your way through the evidence and what you were profiling. Your knowledge in forensics came in useful, he had to admit, but the team started relying on you more than they did him.

Hotch at first had paired the two of you up after the team found out that you and Spencer had a few things in common in the genius department after you went all out on your first case together. Now Hotch was pairing you with Emily or Morgan, even Hotch himself, once they saw you use a firearm and take down two grown man bare handed. It took him years to be comfortable with his firearm and here you were leaving him in the dust. You never boasted your intelligence or not fit in unlike Spencer. It wasn't so much you as a person he didn't like but how much of a blow it was to him to not be able to compete with you.

Spencer watched you as you looked at the deceased couple on the table before you. Hotch had sent the both of you together, hoping Spencer would finally come to his senses and maybe even try to like you. The sexual tension between you the two of you was clear as day to everyone but the both of you. Spencer kept his feelings in check by acting like he disliked you while you were always nice to him but tended to pour yourself into work whenever he was nearby. As intelligent as the both of you were, you weren't geniuses in the feelings department.

"I think we should let Hotch know, what we found out." Your voice bringing Spencer out of his thoughts. He nodded his head as you dialed Hotch's number.

"How do you know so much about autopsies?" Spencer questioned once you were off the phone.

You shrugged as you hopped into the car. "I watched Ducky and Palmer do enough of them throughout the years, so I know a thing or two about them. Plus, I took a few courses on it too while I was with the Navy."

Spencer didn't say anything, just nodded his head as he buckled in.

A few days into the case with no leads, everyone was going a bit stir crazy as the team got no sleep. You came in that morning with muffins and donuts along with a few jugs of freshly brewed coffee unlike the imposter that called itself coffee in the precinct.

"Oh, how I love you, my sweet angel!" Emily said as you set down the jug of coffee in front of her. You chuckled at her remarks and blew her a kiss before you turned around to see Spencer looking at you in disgust. You quickly looked away and turned to Rossi on the other side of the conference room.

"Coffee and a donut?"

"Yes, please!" He said with a smile.

You looked down at the pictures of the deceased that was in his hand. "Are those the crime scene photos of the last couple? I saw the bodies after their autopsy but haven't seen much of the crime scene. Can I take a look?"

He nodded and handed the stack to you. You studied each one carefully before you got to the last photo, your eyes growing wise and you stood up, running over to Hotch, the team looking at you questioningly.

"Was this crime scene gone over with forensics yet?" You asked hurriedly, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

"Partily but it was mostly blood, so they didn't get anything."

You shoved the photo at him and pointed to the small smudge on the wall. "Did they see this?"

"What is it supposed to be?" Hotch asked, squinting at the photo trying to see what you were seeing.

"It looks like a possible print. We need to go back there and collect it."

You heard a sigh behind you then Spencer's hand reached out from behind you and grabbed the picture. "It looks like nothing but a speck on a blown-up picture. The forensics team covered the entire scene, they would have noticed it if it was anything." He looked at you with pure anger in his eyes that it made you lean away, hands shaking. "I don't know what they do at N.C.I.S, but our forensic team does things correctly."

You felt your body stiffen and your eyes slightly water. All you were able to do was given a curt nod and nudge your way around him, as you made your way to the front bullpen. You didn't need anything, but you had to get away from the environment. Spencer was starting to get to you, no matter how much training you had to stay composed, he was just able to break down your walls and make you feel so small. And with this frustrating case and over a month worth of him belittling you, you were finally breaking.

Running a hand through your hair, you sat at a computer to check the forensic findings, no fingerprints were found but you couldn't be too careful. You headed out of the precinct and took one of the SUVs to the crime scene. You arrived at the crime scene quickly and walked inside to find what you were looking for. And there it was, right where it was on the picture. A perfect fingerprint.

"I can't believe they missed that." Jenn said, as the team was finishing up the last of their paperwork on the case back at their home office a few days after the team took down another killer.

"She was just lucky." You heard Spencer mutter from behind you.

You took a deep breath in and started to stack your paperwork. The room cleared out besides Spencer and yourself. Hotch came down and stopped by your desk. "The paperwork is being processed and they'll get you transportation back to Quantico. You'll have to do exit paperwork tomorrow but take the rest of the day and the day after for yourself."

You smiled up at him, not before noticing Spencer was looking over at the two of you. "Thank you for everything, I've learned so much."

"No, thank you for all your help with the past cases. I look forward to working with you again." He held out his hand to you and you shook it before standing up and giving him a large hug, Spencer's eyes growing big at the affection you gave to Hotch. "Oh, and remember, dinner tomorrow night at Rossi's."

"Wouldn't miss it." With that said, Hotch smiled and walked away.

You started packing up the rest of your desk items then grabbed your jacket to head out, ignoring Spencer's watching you with curiosity. You nearly made it to the elevator before you heard your name being called out. You turned around to find Spencer standing only a few feet behind you.

"Can I help you?" You knew how it sounded, snappy and short, but you didn't care, you were finally done with Dr. Spencer Reid.

"Um..." He started to take a step forward but thought better of it. "You're leaving? You still have a few more months left here, though. Why are you leaving early?"

The elevator dinged behind you as it opened, and you took a step back into it. You couldn't help the short laugh that escaped your lips as you shook your head. At this point, you didn't care what answer came out because you would never be seeing Spencer again. Your breath shook as you breathed in as the doors started to close, Spencer worriedly looking at you. "Because of you, Dr. Reid."

[naoristerling]

Beomgyu fanfic recomendation | Tumbrl ao3

moonstone (why didn't you tell me) - choi beomgyu

|11,4k @healingpage casamento de best

After a painful betrayal by her fiance and a backstab with her close friend, Y/n is heartbroken. When her best friend, Beomgyu, discovers her called-off wedding, he brings her to the land of Japan, believing that over the course of the four day trip, he can convince her to come home happy, or to at least move on from the guy. But his plan goes south when Y/n finds a note on his phone, about his actual feelings on her previous relationship.

i can't swim, idiot ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu | 11,7k @beom-pyu bests fingem ser casados

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags: best friends to lovers au , beomgyu is annoying(ly cute) , fake dating? nah... fake married? bingo! , reader is so fed up with beomgyu how is he still alive , fluff , black cat x golden retriever dynamic ??? , hinted bisexual!beomgyu happy pride month , hinted pining , nsfw , some cliche moments bc who doesn't love a good cliche

the only exception | beomgyu x reader | 12k @byeomtori

love at first sight au, summer love thingy, lots of reference to paramore's the only exception and txt's our summer, pda

white dress | 3,8k @fairyyeo

Beomgyu encontra s/n e a chama pra sair depois do seu turno, motoqueiro

➵ sk8ter boi -> c.b | 4.5k @gyusrose

you never thought in a million years to be attracted to a boy like beomgyu. His baggy clothes, scrappy shoes, long hair just wasn’t a click with your elegant dresses, tight skirts, ballet dancer- self , but somehow he managed to steal your attention.

ditto / cbg | 3.5k @huenation

the day arrives where beomgyu, your angel, is leaving you, you realize you have nothing left to lose

FESTIVAL | 7.7k (I can't @ the author, but she is in the comments)

you thought this year's festival was going to be a bummer like last year's, until you found yourself stuck spending the three whole days of it with that pretty guitarist boy that caught your eye.

「 Camera Shy 」 | 14.4k @koqabear

“You’ve always tried to live an honest and responsible life; never spending money on anything ridiculous, scoffing at the things other people would be so willing to drop their paycheck on. But when life gets hard, you’re bound to give into your guilty pleasures, right?”

Hey Emo Boy! | 9.4k @koqabear

He worked at the Spencer’s store in the mall— you worked at the Claire’s store right in front. What can you say? Match made in heaven.

You Are My Queen Now | 194k @wildernessuntothemselves

Growing up as a child of a minor lord, you had it instilled in you since a young age that you needed to find yourself a rich and affluent husband that would not only provide a comfortable life for you, but would also help further your family’s position in the court. So it was of the utmost importance that you remain a virgin in order to land such a coveted husband. 

The problem lies when the man you secretly love, Prince Beomgyu, suddenly and unabashedly propositions you. 

Rare and Pure (cbg) | 21.5k @elix8r

“But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.“

- Patrick Rothfuss

Choi Yeonjun was the love of your life, the one you were unequivocally sure the Moon Goddess had chosen for you. His younger brother, Beomgyu, on the other hand, didn't even register on your radar as mate material. But fate, as it often does, had other plans. One night was all it took for your entire life to flip around as you found yourself accidentally mated to your childhood friend. Now, you're left grappling with the emotional wreckage of it all as you are not only struggling to feel the unbreakable connection that mates are supposed to share with Beomgyu, but you're also dealing with the harsh reality that your dreams of forever with Yeonjun will never come to fruition. It's a bitter pill to swallow, and it's forcing you to reevaluate your very sense of self. Your wolf clearly had some serious explaining to do.

idle town | c.bg + the city that never sleeps | c.bg

| 40k @petrichor-han

it’s always been beomgyu and (y/n), (y/n) and beomgyu. the two of them against the world... well, against the mean old cashier at the local grocery store anyways. (y/n) has always dreamed of leaving her small town and travelling the world, but beomgyu has always been more than comfortable in the only home he’s ever known. when (y/n) gets the option to finally live her dream and live in a big city hours away from their hometown, beomgyu has to choose between loving her and letting go.

brand new, full throttle! | 5.2k @hwangyu

beomgyu finds out you're the perfect way to get under his stepfathers skin.

모기 / MOGI — [c.bg]. | 14k @hannie-dul-set

in which all of your life, you and beomgyu have been stuck together like glue whether you liked it or not. and as much as you want to change that, life seems to have different plans.

Series

「 PRETTY PRINCESS 」 part IX ─ 'do you trust me?' @beomiracles

taking a wrong turn in the 4th dimension Beomgyu finds himself two centuries behind his own with no way back, though meeting a pretty princess like you, does not seem so wrong.

to know him is to love him, and i do | 9,8k @niningtori

you love beomgyu more than anything. you just wish he loved you, too. or you finally break up with beomgyu and move on, but as for him? maybe he's starting to realize too little too late.

[eriexplosion]

Yesterday everyone was posting their feelings on TBB. I'm glad I waited, because there's a lot swirling around. Cut for negativity again.

I was introduced to The Bad Batch in August 2022 and fell instantly in love. The characters, the story, the complex family dynamics, they all spoke to me. I wasn't even a Star Wars fan but I went through and devoured The Clone Wars, Rebels, The Mandalorian, all of it. I threw myself into this world and adored every second of it. I must have rewatched season one over five times before season two even came out.

When season two premiered I loved it. Every Tuesday night I stayed up until the episode drop and devoured it immediately. I looked ahead at the schedule and took days off work for the double episodes, for the big Crosshair episodes - he was my favorite early on and season two only made that grow. But season two also really brought Tech into my radar even more. I had always liked him, but here he was shining. The Crossing really solidified it, as an autistic person. I'd never heard someone describe the difference in processing so succinctly before, so clearly, and it spoke to me like very little had. Here was a character that was like me. Here was a character that I needed when I was an undiagnosed child, someone that would have made me feel like I had at least some way of describing my differences.

Then, well. He died. It was an affecting scene, but it felt out of nowhere, it felt unfinished. Tech didn't even get the climax of the episode. He just fell into the clouds, the Batch grieved for a few minutes, and then the plot steamrolled right along.

I didn't believe it, not after the mad scientist presented his goggles and claimed not to salvage anything else. It seemed like such an obvious fake out. The longer I sat with it the less satisfying it felt. It felt so brushed over, so pointless, all for a mission that they accomplished nothing on. Then came the social media circus. Again and again his fall was shoved in our faces on Twitter, demanding we stream it. TikToks were made that were so out of touch they felt like parodies, the wound ripped open again and again, and I thought surely there had to be a purpose to it.

So I waited for season 3 as interviews were done that seemed to almost intentionally avoid calling him dead. As tweets were made promising we'd be so fulfilled if we could only see who was onscreen in the mid-season! (A tweet that immediately garnered dozens of people hoping it referred to Tech, all without a single comment to try and quell the speculation.) It felt already like we were being toyed with, but I thought it had to be for a reason or a purpose. More weirdly vague discussions went up about his Sacrifice, his Fall, his Anything But Death, even as everyone insists that it was so meaningful, the way he died on a mission that accomplished nothing. Jokes were made around Valentines Day.

He Fell For You, get it?

The first official use of killed went up on the databank right after the trailer, on Hunter's page of all places. The first time the interviews used dead was the Friday before the premier. It all felt too late, theories had already grown for months by that point.

Season 3 finally came and I waited up for every episode drop just like I did for season 2, hoping for him to come back or at least for him to be properly grieved, since we had barely a couple of minutes in Plan 99 before it was swept away for the next plot point. Surely Tech's impact deserved an episode of focus, if he were really gone.

The previously on plays his last words twice. But then we skip months into the future. We don't see Crosshair find out the news - even though Tech died on a mission to retrieve him. We don't watch Omega grieve. She barely seems to notice she's missing a brother. We got a brief allusion in episode two. It took three episodes to even mention his name in passing. Five episodes in everyone got their chance to look sad about him, but only for a few seconds and only when his skills were relevant. Compared to the gorgeous callback to Mayday in the same episode, it felt shallow. He had to have been more important than this didn't he?

Episodes 6 & 7 felt like maybe there was a reason. We see a new masked assassin that gets extra focus, who got put through a series of Tech-adjacent situations, whose beef with Crosshair was just a little too personal, who survived longer than all the rest but stayed masked. Rex talks about losing brothers, but Hunter says nothing about the brother they lost. I hoped it all meant something, that this was the reason that he felt so much like he was thrown away, so that he could come back in.

More one off mentions that only really come up when it's about how useful Tech would have been. More poking at the wound that still felt open and raw because we'd never gotten any closure. The closest we get is a single scene in episode eleven, so late in the season and so brief that I thought that couldn't possibly be it.

CX-2 comes back, and he talks like Tech. He's still not unmasked. I really need him to be something because otherwise what was it all for?

The most emotion comes in Juggernaut, from Phee. Its a highlight because it actually feels like it was about him, like he mattered as a person. It's episode twelve and we finally talk about him like a person. We never saw her get the news either.

Episodes thirteen and fourteen pass without any mentions at all. We're running out of time. Episode 15 hits and we get one raw one from Crosshair that Clone Force 99 died with Tech. It's the first time they directly say he's dead in so many words. It's the season finale. CX-2 is a nobody it turns out, and he dies faceless. Everyone gets a happy ending and after over a year of wondering if we'd ever get closure, it turns out Tech's just dead. But look how happy everyone else is!

Everyone gets to grow old. Except the autistic one of course. He's just dead and it hardly feels like it mattered at all. Did you know Wrecker and Hunter don't use his name once in season three? Omega and Echo mention him once each. Crosshair twice, only once with any emotion behind it. Phee tops the charts at three mentions, two by name and one by nickname. We see his goggles four times. I kept count.

There was never a bigger plan, this was just all he was worth. We spent two seasons on Crosshair's absence. We spent a whole episode dealing with it when Echo decided to go with Rex. Tech dies though and all his life amounted to was a handful of mentions when his skills would have been useful, some shots of his broken goggles, and endless cooing out of the text over how meaningful his sacrifice was. Too meaningful to take back, of course, even as Ventress is brought back from her own sacrifice.

I had really, really thought that this time autistic life would be worth more than autistic death. That a character that felt so carefully handled couldn't have just been thrown away for shock value, barely to even be mentioned again, his memory used to string us along to keep us watching. If you added up every mention and shot through season 3 it might actually clock in at less time than was spent on Mayday's send off.

I'm an adult. I'll survive, though the sting of seeing yet another character like me used as a stepping stone for everyone else's happy ending will take a while to fade. But I think about the child I used to be who needed a character like Tech. And I think about how it would have felt to actually get that only to watch him die a handful of episodes later as a side note to his family's story, barely even mentioned again. How badly it would have hurt, how deep it would have scarred.

I'm not that child anymore. But there are a lot of autistic kids out there that are the same as I used to be, and they're learning for the first time that people like us don't get happy endings. Instead they die so that everyone around them can rise up, and they might even get mentioned a few times. But don't worry. Everyone will tell you how meaningful and special it is and how delusional you were to ever hope for anything else.

The Bad Batch still means a lot to me. I think it always will. I love the characters. I love the family, and all the potential they had. But the sting of not belonging in this happy ending is there, and it's deep. It's been a long time since I trusted a show. It'll be a long time before I risk trusting another. And I hope that the autistic kids trying to learn how to close their hearts off behind new walls are doing okay.

[featherandferns]

my thoughts on the rudy/madison discourse and obx 4 generally (spoilers):

I watch obx 4 for the characters. I appreciate the actors, find their behind the scenes moments entertaining at times, and indulge in the occasional interview or Instagram post, but I do not 'follow' the actors. My fanfics are about JJ Maybank as a character, not Rudy Pankow. I appreciate Rudy Pankow's attraction, especially when playing JJ's character, but writing fanfic about Rudy himself (or any other actor) is, for me, uncomfortable. That isn't to shame anybody who does write or read such content, it just makes me personally feel uncomfortable.

All this to say: I don't care about the drama. I don't care about why Rudy left the show, whether this was his decision or the writer's. I think Rudy's girlfriend seems lovely, but I am highly aware neither myself nor anybody else knows her. Rudy is a grown man. He's in his twenties. He can decide who he does and does not want to date, and who he does and does not want to spend his time with, both on and off set. An Instagram post Rudy made on his story on Canadian Thanksgiving I think summed it up perfectly: he loves his girlfriend, and if people can't get behind that, then get out.

Furthermore, Madison and Rudy do not owe anybody anything. I don't find interest or want to engage in the toxic debate of the 'he said, she said'. They're all adults, they all have their own lives, this is all between them. The speculation and pressure from fans is cruel and uncalled for. They don't owe anybody insight into their private lives. Maybe they aren't friends anymore - that's okay! People drift apart, people fall out. Yes, it's sad to see the change from season 1 in terms of dynamics, but a lot can happen behind the scenes. That's life! Also, I don't like the comparison between Rudy and Madison, and Madison and Chase. People saying 'but the actual ex-couple can work together fine' are forgetting that every situation is different! I had an ex-boyfriend at an old job; I was pissed at him for a few months but civil at work, and then I got over it and he apologised and we became actual friends about a year after the break-up. However, I have other ex-friends and ex-lovers who I could not ever tolerate or be near, and I can't imagine what it would have been like having to work with them after a falling out. If this is the case for Rudy and Madison, that's a really tough thing to navigate! Give them grace - yes they're actors, but they're humans too! The bottom line is: it's their life, leave them alone.

Following on from that, stop placing blame! We don't know why Rudy left the show. There's all different opinions and sources about who said what, who did what, who is the 'bad guy'. Nobody knows the truth but the three involved and, as I said before, they owe this to nobody to disclose.

I think Rudy leaving the show, whilst sad, is a fair decision. OBX began filming in 2019. You do a lot of growing from there and, especially with changes in writing, you can want a change. I think actors can sometimes be too tethered to their characters and it limits their future work abilities, because nobody can picture them as anything other than that character. You can still have successful careers because of this (think Camila Mendes and Riverdale; Matt Le Blanc and Friends; Ellen Pompeo and Meredith Grey), but Rudy clearly wants to explore other areas and other characters, like theatre and Indie movies. Good for him! We should support him! I don't love this 'I'm sorry we couldn't save you from your actor, JJ' stuff, because Rudy gave his heart and soul to that character and that performance. He doesn't deserve to be punished because he craves a change. It's the same as any other job/career; we all want a change sometimes.

The writers and show creators have been getting a lot of backlash too. Here's my thoughts on season 4: was it their best season? No. Did it do some of the other seasons and previous plotlines/character development justice? No. Did JJ have to die? Not necessarily. However, it is easy to lose sight of the small picture when you have increased demand and increased budgets. Netflix like 'bigger and better'. When people are given more creative freedom, sometimes things can veer off course. We can forget the original character motivations, dreams and desires by getting caught up in the spectacle. The only show I've ever seen that really keeps the characters true and consistent, whilst developing, and never forgetting a plot point, is Bojack Horseman. To me, that is the only show. It's a shame, yes, that it veered so far from season 1's aesthetic, but that's how it is.

As a fellow creator, I feel it's cruel sending so much blatant hate to the writers and creators for making the show. If Rudy did want to leave, they had to find a way to make this work for JJ. Yes, I've seen some say 'he didn't have to die' but I sort of disagree. JJ is too loyal and attached to his friends to just 'go off' on his own to somewhere else. That would also be out of character. I think the way he died, and the build-up and plot points that didn't get resolved prior to his death, is a little annoying. I don't like how it wasn't in Kildare, in his home, and in a different country. But hey - that's just me.

I know, that if I took so much time and energy and money, working and building something that I am proud of just, just to receive so much black-and-white hate, I'd be crushed. Constructive criticisms and opinions are good - we can be upset about a character dying - but saying 'fuck you' and 'we hate you' is a bit mean, in my opinion. The time and energy and work gone into this season is astounding. The travelling and set design is incredible! I mean, the shop is the most awesome thing I've ever seen!

I also respect that they killed JJ. I'm not saying I wanted him to die. I'm saying, it pisses me off when shows give plot-armour to the main characters. It lowers the stakes. You know they're going to be fine because they're always fine (think the majority of Stranger Things - there's a really good video essay about that here btw that articulates this point a bit better). JJ's death was shocking and upsetting, that's how a death (in a show, at least) should be, but it means hey, there are real stakes here. It's not fair he died! He didn't deserve to die! But he did, oh my God. It takes guts to kill of a beloved, main character. I agree, JJ was my favourite part of the show, but I respect the choice, personally.

I liked season 4. It wasn't as good as season 1, I wish they stayed more grounded and didn't start so many plot points without resolving any/all of them, but I liked it. It was entertaining. The acting was pretty decent, though the chemistry and acting when Rudy and Madison had scenes together was a little disappointing (again, I don't want to point blame at a certain individual; it's hard to have good on-screen chemistry, especially when you don't feel like it matches your character's true motivations).

Was it unrealistic at times? Yes, but OBX usually is haha. It's a show about finding EL DORADO at this point, like I can accept that they let Sarah and JJ get swept into the sea during a storm and come out fine, without a single earring out of place. Sure, whatever, I'll take it (so unrealistic, 90% would drown and you'd at least shed your clothes to help you swim and stay afloat but WHATEVER. Also put your life jackets on guys wtf it's a STORM).

I wish there was more development on the plots, done by having less plots at once, and more conclusions for JJ before his death. I felt as though we were building up to a big blow-out/resolution with Pogues which never really came. Also, don't love how they handled JJ and his biological dad. I don't think he'd be that willing to trust a random man who abandoned him so easy. Yes, he's reluctant, but COME ON. JJ has the biggest trust issues. I just don't buy it. Also, explain, please, how Luke went from being so wonderful and gentle with JJ to full on abusive? Just a bit of explanation would be nice, please. Not a huge fan of the pregnancy plotline but hey, sure, whatever.

So, yes, that's my thoughts on everything: leave the actors alone; the writers have balls for killing JJ but that isn't necessarily a bad thing; give people grace; treat people with kindness; I'm going to keep writing for JJ; and season 4 altogether gets a 6/10 from me.

I'm open to different opinions, further thoughts, or just general musings/ideas. I hope this doesn't upset or offend anyone, I'm not trying to spark drama or shame a certain person or people: these are just my thoughts and views! So, I won't be participating in any 'who's the bad guy' discourse surrounding the actors. I'm just here for JJ and the Pogues. Take care of yourselves and spread positivity in this crazy, difficult time <3 and, of course, rest in peace, JJ Maybank <3

P.S. These are my season-by-season ratings: season 1 - 10/10; season 2 - 8/10; season 3 - 6/10; season 4 - 6/10.

[shhrrroooommmmmyyyyyy]

HB Generational Trauma: Paimon → Stolas

→ Octavia

*Before I get attacked, nothing I say is to defend the actions described. I am simply trying to explain and make sense of it.*

Many fans approach the topic of Stolas being a good or bad father with either black and white-good or bad or completely gray answers. The black and white are pretty straightforward, usually going something like "he says this but does this anyway" or "he's neglectful", which are all valid opinions here. As well as the gray opinions, usually saying "he really tries, he just doesn't get it right".

Honesty, I can't say I disagree with any of these opinions honestly. I don't have evidence to back this up, but I have a feeling I know where the writers are going with this. I think they will, maybe sometime soon after hearing via's line in the trailer, have Stolas sort of "wake up" in a sense and realize what exactly he does. Get hit by the good ol' self awareness train, if you will. It's called character development.

I've seen many people call this bad writing but I disagree. I think that's the direction they're going for Stolas's character development. I think with the episodes so spread out, people forget we're only three episodes away from only being halfway through the series as a whole. There's still plenty of room for development.

Anyways, back on topic. Let's look at Paimon and Stolas from the Circus episode. I love the Loo Loo Land parallel with it.

Paimon enjoying himself from home while Stolas is miserable and clearly doesn't want to be there. The only thing that gets him through it without crashing out is Blitzø. Paimon seems to not notice he's even there at all until he starts enjoying himself watching Blitzø. And when he figures out what's making him so happy, he literally buys Blitzø later to keep himself from having to deal with him all day. Of course Stolas is too oblivious and distracted by Blitzø to realize, but that makes complete sense seeing how oblivious he is as an adult.

So now let's look at Stolas and Octavia in the Loo Loo Land episode.

Stolas is enjoying himself, but actually present. Him actually being there is an improvement; however, Octavia's not enjoying herself. She already didn't want to go because she was too old to enjoy it. And on top of that, Stolas flirting with Blitzø the whole time made her uncomfortable (which he was also too oblivious to realize).

I think the parallels here are interesting. Overall I think the writers ave done an excellent job of writing generational trauma, hence the title of this post. Now let's look at Stolas' line from Western Energy:

This line made a slight change in their dynamic from my perspective. It's clear he loves her and would do anything to protect her. Much different from Paimon. I think he tries so hard to be better than Paimon that he subconsciously ends up doing what Paimon does. This is called the ironic process theory or ironic rebound (psychology nerd here, as you can tell). However, the difference between him and Paimon is that he apologizes and recognizes that he made a mistake. He's trying. And even so, what examples of a good dad would he have had growing up that would've guided him in the right direction?

Although he keeps making mistakes, he is still trying. He's not prefect. I think Via knows this; nevertheless, it's hard for her not to get frustrated at him for making them sometimes. Especially when he promised he would do something with her and didn't in Seeing Stars.

No matter the extremity of the efforts made toward doing so, generational trauma will never be completely healed in one generation (look at me using smart words). While Stolas has made a pretty big dent in the healing process, it takes more than one person to erase the trauma. Although Via is as far as the line will go with her being confirmed asexual, I think Stolas has done a lot more for Via than people realize.

I have a few notes about Blitz and Loona on this topic as well. I might wait till after Ghostfuckers in case it gives more info to put in that post

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part twenty three

summary: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: swearing, drug use, mentions of alcohol, suggestive themes, angst

author's note: thank you to the person who said y/n and rafe remind them of two ghosts by harry styles, yet another reason to cry over them

In the soft glow of the television, casting a muted ambiance across Rafe's room, he lay on his bed with Sofia resting against his chest. A quiet tension lingered in the air, intensifying in the days following the unexpected reunion with you at the restaurant.

Sofia, sensing Rafe's distance, absentmindedly traced circles on his chest with her fingers, attempting to bridge the growing gap between them. Tilting her head to look up at him, concern filled her eyes.

"Rafe, is everything okay?" Sofia's voice was soft and caring.

With a sigh, Rafe kept his gaze fixed on the TV screen, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Yeah, just… thinking about stuff, you know?"

Propping herself up on her elbow, Sofia studied his face. "You've been so distant lately. Is there something you want to talk about?"

Caught between the truth and the fear of causing more turmoil, he hesitated. "It's just a lot going on, Sof. I've got some things on my mind."

Understandingly, Sofia nodded, her fingers now tracing gentle patterns on his arm. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

He nodded, appreciating her support but unsure if he could share the complexities of his emotions. Sensing his reluctance, Sofia decided to change the subject, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Maybe we could do something fun this weekend, take your mind off things," she suggested, a hopeful smile playing on her lips.

Managing a faint smile in return, Rafe appreciated her effort. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

As the TV flickered in the background, the room held an unspoken tension. Sofia rested her head back on Rafe's chest, contemplating the subtle shifts in their dynamic. While she tried to be patient, a nagging feeling lingered – a realization that something had changed, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

However, as her gestures intensified, Rafe's patience wore thin. The unspoken tension in the room became palpable, creating an invisible barrier between them. Sofia nestled against him, attempting to intertwine her fingers with his. Growing increasingly irritated, Rafe pulled away, his brow furrowing.

"Sof, can you just give it a rest for a bit?" he muttered, the irritation evident in his tone.

Looking up at him, Sofia's eyes reflected a mix of confusion and hurt. "Rafe, what's going on? You've been distant, and now you're pushing me away. Did I do something wrong?"

With a sigh, frustration etching his features, Rafe admitted, "It's not about you, okay? I've got a lot on my mind, and I can't deal with all this right now."

She sat up, giving him some space but still visibly hurt. "Rafe, we used to be so close. If something's bothering you, I want to be there for you."

His annoyance grew as he struggled to find the right words. "I just need some space, okay? I can't have you all over me every second."

Tears welled in Sofia's eyes, hurt by the sudden change in his demeanor. "Fine, Rafe. If you need space, I'll give it to you. But this… it's not like you."

He didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the distant wall. The room felt heavy with unresolved tension, and as Sofia excused herself, the air between them lingered with unspoken words and a growing sense of unease.

Rafe's frustration reached its peak as he watched Sofia leave, the door closing behind her. He sighed heavily, pacing the room as if trying to escape the overwhelming emotions within. His hands ran through his disheveled hair, fingers gripping the strands tightly.

"Why can't anything just be easy for once?" he muttered to himself, a bitter edge to his voice.

The echo of his own words seemed to mock him, and he felt a surge of anger building up inside. Without thinking, he lashed out, his fist connecting with the wall in a raw display of frustration. The impact reverberated through the room, and a sharp pain shot through his hand. Rafe winced but welcomed the physical pain as a distraction from the emotional turmoil.

"Damn it!" he cursed, shaking his hand as if to ward off the sting.

Alone in the room, Rafe grappled with the conflicting emotions swirling within him. The weight of recent events, the encounter with you, and the strained relationship with Sofia created a volatile mix that he struggled to navigate. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as if closing in on him.

As Rafe nursed his throbbing hand, he sank onto the edge of his bed, overwhelmed by a flood of memories. The room became a stage for the ghosts of moments shared with you, and he found himself dwelling in the bittersweet nostalgia of your presence.

He closed his eyes, trying to summon the sensory details that clung to those memories. The way your hair smelled faintly of the ocean breeze, the melodic cadence of your laughter that echoed in his ears, and the warmth of your touch that lingered on his skin. Each recollection was a sharp pang, a reminder of a time when everything seemed simpler, when he didn't have to navigate the complexities of heartache and regret.

In that solitary moment, he romanticized the past, replaying the scenes where you and he were entangled in a dance of shared glances and whispered confessions. The room seemed to echo with the ghostly laughter that once filled it, now haunting him with the absence of your presence.

Sorrow tightened its grip on his heart as he wallowed in the vivid tapestry of your shared experiences. The weight of regret bore down on him, and he couldn't escape the haunting realization that he might have let something truly precious slip through his fingers. Yet, amid the pain, there was an undeniable longing, a yearning for a time when love felt uncomplicated, and the future held the promise of shared tomorrows.

As Rafe dwelled in the recesses of his imagination, he allowed the alternate reality to unfold before him like a hazy daydream. In this envisioned world, he saw a life where he had granted you that second chance on that fateful day, a life that diverged from the current path of heartache and solitude.

In this imagined narrative, the two of you flourished against the backdrop of sun-kissed memories, navigating the complexities of love with a newfound understanding. The island, once a confined stage for your relationship, now became a mere prologue to the grander story of your shared journey.

He envisioned the passage of years, the gentle erosion of the once-familiar island landscape replaced by the changing seasons of a more expansive world. The whispers of shared dreams resonated through the cozy northern town you had made your own, a place where the echoes of laughter and love were woven into the fabric of everyday life.

There, in this imagined haven, you and he found solace in the simplicity of shared sunsets and the warmth of a home built on the foundation of forgiveness and resilience. The weight of regret lifted, replaced by the buoyancy of a love that had weathered storms and emerged stronger on the other side.

Yet, even in the reverie of this idyllic existence, a sense of loss lingered. Rafe couldn't shake the awareness that this alternate reality was a mere mirage, a poignant testament to the choices made and the irreversible course of time. The ache in his heart deepened as he contemplated the chasm between the life he had envisioned and the reality that now unfolded before him.

As Rafe's mental anguish escalated, he found himself teetering on the precipice of despair. The weight of regret, coupled with the sting of recent events, drove him to a breaking point. A torrent of emotions overwhelmed him, and tears blurred his vision as he grappled with the haunting echoes of your presence in his mind.

In a desperate attempt to numb the pain, Rafe sought solace in the familiar rituals that had become a coping mechanism, albeit a destructive one. With trembling hands, he reached into his nightstand, fingers closing around a small baggy containing a white substance. The act was mechanical, a reflex born out of habit and the relentless pursuit of an elusive escape.

The substance, once a temporary reprieve from the tumult within, now became a symbol of the deeper turmoil eating away at Rafe's soul. As he prepared to indulge in this fleeting escape, the room became a silent witness to the unraveling of a fractured spirit, a soul caught in the relentless undertow of its own despair.

The room, cloaked in the dim glow of despair, witnessed Rafe's descent into the abyss of his own making. Each inhalation of the numbing substance became a fleeting attempt to drown the sorrows that threatened to consume him. Tears, unbidden, streamed down his face, a silent testament to the profound ache that had settled within his heart.

As the chemical haze wrapped around him, he found himself lost in a vivid tapestry of memories. Images of you, smiling and carefree, intertwined with an alternate reality where he had chosen a different path that led to a shared future. The bittersweet agony of those imaginary moments intensified with every heartbeat, each line etching a painful reminder of what could have been.

In the midst of the solitary ritual, Rafe grappled not only with the substance but also with the weight of regret, longing, and the haunting specter of a love lost. The room bore witness to the silent struggle, a sanctuary of solitude shattered by the echoes of a heart breaking, one line at a time.

The substance's bitter sting lingered in Rafe's nostrils as he leaned back, the remnants of his chosen escape method still coursing through his veins. The room, once a sanctuary of solitude, now held the hushed aftermath of his self-imposed oblivion. A fleeting sense of relaxation swept over him, a momentary reprieve from the weight that had settled on his shoulders.

As he waited for the high to envelop him completely, Rafe's mind teetered on the precipice between reality and the numbing embrace of the chemicals. The echoes of memories, both real and imagined, lingered in the corners of his consciousness, competing with the euphoria that sought to drown them out. In this fragile interlude, he clung to the fragile promise of escape, a respite from the relentless ache that seemed to define his waking hours.

───────────────

The sun hung high in the cloudless sky as you and JJ embarked on the boat ride, the rhythmic hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop to the gentle lapping of waves against the vessel. The salty sea breeze tousled your hair as you sat beside JJ, your thoughts still swirling with the tumultuous events of the past days.

JJ, always attuned to your emotions, attempted to break the heavy silence that lingered between you. "You know, a day out here is gonna do wonders for the soul. Trust me."

You managed a small smile, appreciating JJ's effort to lift your spirits. The boat cut through the water, leaving behind a trail of frothy waves, and soon, the coastline faded into the distance.

As the boat sailed further into the vast expanse of the ocean, the horizon opened up before you, a boundless canvas of blues and greens. The vastness of the sea seemed to mirror the complexities of your own emotions. JJ, ever the optimist, nudged you playfully.

"Come on, Y/N! Let's make today a good one. Leave all that drama on the shore."

You nodded, silently vowing to try and embrace the fleeting escape from the troubles that haunted your thoughts. The boat sliced through the water, carrying you both away from the island, if only for a moment, and you allowed the gentle rocking to lull you into a tentative sense of peace.

As the boat glided through the sunlit waters, you could feel JJ's gaze on you, his eyes tracing the contours of your tanned skin as it absorbed the warm, golden rays. The sunlight played with the strands of your hair, creating a halo of light around you. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you found solace in the soothing embrace of the sun, its radiant touch becoming a balm for the wounds that lingered within.

JJ, perceptive as always, recognized the subtle shift in your demeanor. "Sunshine suits you, Y/N," he remarked with a grin, attempting to sprinkle a touch of lightness into the moment.

You chuckled softly, the genuine warmth in his words resonating with the gentle caress of the sun on your skin. For a fleeting instant, the weight on your shoulders seemed to lift, carried away by the sea breeze as the boat continued its leisurely journey across the open waters.

JJ glanced at you, concern etched across his features as he steered the boat through the gentle waves. "Y/N," he began, the hum of the boat's engine providing a backdrop to his words, "how have you been handling everything? I mean, after seeing Rafe and all."

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the horizon. The vast expanse of the ocean seemed to mirror the complexities of your emotions. "It's been tough, JJ. I didn't expect it to hit me that hard," you admitted, fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of your sundress.

JJ nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. "If you ever need to talk about it or anything else, you know I'm here, right?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met JJ's sincere gaze. "Yeah, JJ. I appreciate that more than you know."

The boat sailed on, carving a path through the water as you navigated the currents of your emotions. JJ, a steady presence at your side, offered a reassuring anchor in the sea of uncertainty.

JJ grinned, his eyes reflecting the sunlight as he steered the boat. "You know, despite everything, I'm really glad we got past our previous issues and are still friends. Life's too short for unnecessary drama."

You chuckled, appreciating JJ's positive outlook. "Yeah, JJ, me too. You make everything a little bit easier."

The Chateau's atmosphere was thick with tension as you stormed through the door, your eyes ablaze with anger. JJ followed you, attempting to explain himself, but the hurt in your heart drowned out his words.

"You had no right, JJ!" you shouted, turning to face him. "You ruined everything!"

He held up his hands, a pleading look in his eyes. "I was just trying to be honest. Rafe had to know the truth, he's a fucking dick."

Your laughter was bitter and filled with frustration. "Honesty? You call this honesty? You destroyed my relationship with Rafe, and for what? To play the hero? You had no right meddling in my life!"

JJ's expression hardened. "I did it because I care about you! Rafe was gonna know the truth about the plan eventually."

Your fists clenched at your sides. "Well, congratulations, JJ. You've not only lost me my boyfriend, but you've also made sure Rafe will never trust me again. Is that what you wanted?"

He took a step forward, his voice lowering. "I wanted you to be free of the lies. I could see what it was doing to you and I was so pissed at Rafe and I-."

You scoffed, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "And what about hurting me, JJ? Did you even think about that?"

The room felt suffocating as the weight of the argument hung in the air. You turned away, frustration and betrayal burning in your eyes. JJ reached out, attempting to touch your shoulder, but you shrugged him off.

"Don't touch me, JJ," you hissed.

The tension escalated as JJ tried to justify his actions, his frustration mirroring your own. "You don't get it, Y/N. Rafe was pushing me. What was I supposed to do? Let him continue to walk around like he was hot shit?"

You scoffed, disbelief and anger painted across your features. "So, what, you just decided to spill everything? Betray me in the process? You had no right, JJ!"

He crossed his arms, his own frustration mounting. "He was asking for it. All I did was tell him the truth."

Your eyes narrowed. "And you think this is the way to deliver the truth? By ruining everything? You had no right to play hero, JJ. This was my mess to handle."

JJ's voice grew more intense. "He was getting under my skin, Y/N. Taunting me, pushing me to a point where I had to say something."

Your hands clenched into fists. "So, what, you just decided to throw me under the bus? And for what? To prove a point to Rafe?"

JJ's frustration turned into desperation. "I didn't want to hurt you, Y/N. But he needed to know what was going on. You can't keep playing both sides."

Your anger flared, and you took a step closer, glaring at JJ. "I never asked you to play hero, JJ. You took it upon yourself to destroy everything. And for what? To assuage your guilt?"

JJ's expression shifted to guilt as he realized the extent of the damage. "I just thought he deserved to know the truth."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Well, congratulations. The truth is out, and everything's gone to hell. I hope you're happy with what you've done."

The air in the room grew heavier as the argument reached a boiling point, the consequences of JJ's actions and your frustration colliding in a painful clash.

Tears streamed down your face as you hastily packed your belongings, anger and betrayal consuming you. JJ entered the room, concern etched across his face. "Y/N, please, just listen—"

You cut him off, your voice shaking with rage. "Listen? You've done enough, JJ. All you do is ruin everything. I can't believe you thought you had the right to destroy everything I had left."

JJ's eyes pleaded for understanding, but your frustration was uncontainable. "You had no right to tell him, JJ. It was my choice, my secret to keep. And you just trampled all over it."

He took a step closer, trying to calm the storm. "I just wanted him to know the truth, Y/N. He was pushing me, and I couldn't keep lying."

Your voice was sharp and unforgiving. "And look where it got us. Congratulations, JJ. You've successfully dismantled any chance I had left."

As the weight of the situation settled, JJ's remorse deepened. "Y/N, I didn't mean for it to go this way. I just thought he deserved to know the truth."

Your eyes flashed with anger. "Deserved to know? No, JJ, this wasn't your call to make. You don't get to play the hero in my life. Now, I need you to leave me alone. I can't deal with this right now."

JJ's attempts to mend the situation fell on deaf ears as you continued packing, each item a painful reminder of the life you had built on the island, now crumbling under the weight of betrayal and shattered trust.

JJ's voice cut through the tension as he yelled your name, desperation evident in his tone. "Y/N, stop! You're not going anywhere."

Your steps faltered briefly, but the fire within you refused to be extinguished. Turning to face him, you shot back, "Watch me, JJ. I can't stay here. Not after what you've done."

He closed the gap between you, his eyes pleading for understanding. "Y/N, please. We can work through this. You don't have to leave."

But the pain and anger were too fresh, too overwhelming. You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Work through this? You destroyed everything, JJ. There's no going back."

The porch seemed like a battleground, emotions swirling in the air. You pushed past him, determination in every step. JJ called after you, his voice desperate and broken. "Y/N, I messed up, but running away won't fix anything. We can figure this out together."

You paused at the edge of the porch, a mixture of emotions playing on your face. "No, JJ. I need to go. I need to find some semblance of peace away from this mess. Goodbye, JJ."

And with that, you walked away, leaving JJ standing on the porch, helpless and haunted by the consequences of his actions.

JJ's question pulled you back from the brink of painful memories, and you turned your attention to him. The rhythmic sounds of the boat and the gentle waves around you provided a soothing backdrop to the present moment.

JJ's eyes studied your face, concern evident in his expression. "Hey, you've been through a lot lately. How about we take a break from everything and go to a party tonight? Just let loose and have some fun?"

With a forced smile, you responded, "Sure, JJ. A party sounds like a good distraction right now."

He grinned in response, seemingly content that you were willing to join in. The boat ride continued, the vast ocean offering a temporary escape from the troubles that haunted both your minds. Little did you know, the night would bring new challenges, pushing you to confront the ghosts of your past once more.

───────────────

The pulsating beat of the music filled the air as you navigated through the crowded house party. The dim lights flickered in time with the rhythm, casting a hazy glow on the revelers around you. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, and you could feel the bass thumping in your chest.

Taking another shot, you let the warmth spread through you, momentarily drowning out the weight of your thoughts. The scent of alcohol and a mix of perfumes hung in the air as you weaved your way through the dancing crowd.

JJ, your steadfast companion for the evening, kept a watchful eye on you. He had insisted on staying close, sensing that the party might stir up emotions you were trying to escape. Despite the chaos around you, the two of you found a moment of solace by a makeshift bar.

As the night unfolded, laughter and conversations melded into a symphony of chaos. The partygoers, a mix of pogues and tourons, created a dynamic blend of backgrounds and stories. You attempted to lose yourself in the music, letting the beat guide your movements on the makeshift dance floor.

JJ leaned in, his voice just audible over the music. "You doing okay?"

You nodded, the alcohol lending you a temporary sense of detachment. "Yeah, just trying to have a good time."

The night wore on, and the boundaries between reality and the rhythmic pulse of the party blurred. The fleeting moments of joy were punctuated by glimpses of faces that triggered memories — reminders of a past you were desperately trying to escape.

As you lost yourself in the music and the swirling lights, a tall, mysterious stranger approached with a confident smirk on his face. He interrupted your dance, his presence commanding attention. The beat of the music provided the backdrop for his invitation, and you looked up to meet his gaze.

His dark, expressive eyes locked onto yours, and a sly smile played on his lips as he smoothly asked, "Care to dance?" Intrigued by the invitation and the allure of the moment, you returned his smile and nodded, ready to let the rhythm take over and momentarily drown out the complexities of your life.

The tall brunette man's confident smirk widened as you accepted his invitation to dance. The music pulsed through the air, setting the rhythm for your impromptu dance floor connection. You felt the beats vibrating through your body as you turned around to face him, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

The two of you fell into sync, bodies moving to the rhythmic pulse of the music. The dim lights cast shadows on the dance floor, creating an intimate atmosphere. As you swayed to the music, the world around you faded, and the only thing that existed in that moment was the connection between you and the mysterious stranger.

The crowd around you seemed to blur, and the pulsating energy of the party heightened. Your movements became more fluid, and the stranger mirrored your rhythm effortlessly. The playful grinding intensified, creating a charged atmosphere between you two.

As the music enveloped you, you closed your eyes, allowing the rhythmic beats to guide your movements. The stranger's hands found their place on your hips, skillfully leading you in a dance that transcended the bounds of reality. The song's title and the faces around you blurred into insignificance, and for a moment, you embraced the blissful ignorance the dance offered—a temporary escape from the complexities that weighed heavy on your mind.

The tall brunette boy effortlessly spun you around, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. In a bold move, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His hand found its place on your neck, the warmth of the moment enveloping you as you willingly succumbed to the sensation.

The intoxicating mix of alcohol and the heat of the kiss had your mind swimming in a fuzzy haze, and your body responded, almost getting carried away in the moment. The pulsating beat of the music seemed to synchronize with the rhythm of the kiss, creating a surreal and blissful escape. With your eyes tightly closed, you surrendered to the intensity of the kiss, allowing the thumping music to envelop you in a world of its own. Each passing second seemed to stretch into a timeless embrace, and the chaotic surroundings of the party faded away as you became immersed in the shared desire of the moment.

Your eyes slowly opened after the passionate kiss, only to be confronted with a sight that sent a jolt through your entire being. It felt as though Rafe's face had seamlessly replaced the boy's, staring back at you with an intensity that made your stomach churn. Shocked and unsettled, you instinctively threw your hands over your eyes, attempting to shield yourself from the surreal vision.

The boy, his brows furrowed in confusion, asked with genuine concern, "Hey, is everything okay?"

You shook your head, as if trying to dispel the unsettling image from your mind. With a forced smile, you told him, "I'm fine, just need to grab some water. Be right back."

As you stumbled through the crowded house, the disorientation intensified. The unfamiliar faces seemed to blur together, and the thumping music resonated in your ears. In your hazy state, you navigated the halls in search of a bathroom. A fleeting glimpse of a couple passionately making out in the hallway caught your attention, causing you to pause for a moment.

Suddenly, the faces morphed into Rafe and Sofia, and you winced at the surreal sight. Horror gripped you as the couple noticed your presence and looked at you with confusion. The disconcerting illusion lingered for a moment before you shook your head and hurriedly moved away, desperately seeking refuge from the unsettling images.

"Oh my God," you mumbled to yourself as you stumbled away from the confusing scene. Frantically, you found the bathroom and hurriedly stepped inside, locking the door behind you. Sliding down the door, you lowered your head into your palms, overwhelmed by sobs as you questioned your sanity. The disconcerting images and the weight of the emotions you had been trying to escape crashed over you, leaving you in a state of confusion and despair.

Your bloodshot eyes scanned the bathroom, the running mascara on your face revealing the sorrow you had tried to avoid for months. Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you unlocked it with trembling hands, uncertain about where you were going with it. Frantically scrolling through your contacts, you searched for a sense of comfort in somebody. Eventually, you landed on Rafe's contact name. Your finger hovered over it as your hands shook, tears streaming down your face. The inner turmoil and the overwhelming emotions pushed you to the edge, and the idea of reaching out to him seemed like the only lifeline in that moment.

The room echoed with the sound of the ringing phone as you sniffled, your heart pounding with each passing second. The uncertainty of whether Rafe would answer or not intensified the anxiety that already gripped you. Each ring felt like an eternity, and in the midst of your emotional chaos, you questioned the wisdom of making that call.

"Y/N?"

The familiar voice sent a jolt through your system, and for a moment, you were paralyzed with a mix of relief and fear. "Rafe?" you uttered, your voice shaky and vulnerable.

There was a brief pause on the other end, as if Rafe was processing the unexpected call. "Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?" His voice carried a mix of concern and confusion.

Torn between the impulse to lie and the desire for honesty, you took a deep breath and decided to open up. "I… I'm not okay, Rafe," you admitted, your voice quivering with emotion. "I saw something, and I just needed someone to talk to."

Concern laced Rafe's response. "What happened? Are you in trouble?"

Your throat tightened as you recounted the strange encounter at the party, the hallucination that overlaid familiar faces onto strangers. "I don't know, Rafe. Everything is a mess, and I feel like I'm losing my mind."

Rafe's tone softened. "Where are you right now? I'll come get you."

You hesitated, unsure whether you wanted to involve him in your chaotic emotions. But, deep down, a part of you yearned for his presence. "I'm at a party… I don't even know whose house this is. Can you just… talk to me?"

Rafe assured you, "Okay, okay just relax. Send me the address and I'll be there in a few minutes. Hang tight, okay?" With that, the call ended, leaving you in the bathroom, the echoes of the party outside muffled by the closed door.

You heard knocking on the door suddenly, which made you flinch. You stood up and flung the door open, met with the sight of a random couple looking at you with confusion as they noticed your mascara running down your face. You pushed past them and made your way down the staircase. The pounding music and flashing lights disoriented you as you navigated through the crowded house. The staircase seemed never-ending as you descended, your mind clouded with a mixture of emotions. Finally, you reached the ground floor and burst through the front door, stepping into the cool night air.

The front yard offered a temporary escape from the overwhelming atmosphere inside. You took deep breaths, attempting to steady yourself. The grass beneath your feet felt cool and damp as you moved away from the entrance, finding a quiet corner of the yard to gather your thoughts.

As you leaned against the side of the house, you heard the distant thumps of the music echoing through the walls. The sounds of laughter and chatter were muffled in the open air, providing a brief reprieve.

The tears flowed freely as the memories of nights spent stargazing with Rafe flooded your mind. The stars above seemed to mock you, their distant twinkles resembling the fragments of your shattered heart. Alone in the darkness, you held your knees to your chest, unable to contain the sobs that wracked your body.

Each breath felt like a struggle, and the weight on your chest grew heavier with each passing moment. The cool night air did little to soothe the burning ache within you. It was as if the universe conspired to amplify your pain, echoing the emptiness you felt in the vast expanse of the night sky.

You wished for a moment of respite, a break from the relentless waves of sorrow crashing over you. Yet, in that isolated corner of the front yard, surrounded by the distant sounds of the party, you couldn't escape the overwhelming loneliness that consumed you.

Amidst the chaos of the party, you remained oblivious to the passing onlookers, their glances carrying a blend of confusion and judgment. The world seemed to close in around you, suffocating you in its relentless grip. Each heartbeat resonated with the pain echoing through your chest, and the weight of the night pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.

The disapproving stares from strangers blurred into the background as your own internal turmoil took center stage. The universe felt indifferent to your suffering, and the isolation in the midst of a crowd intensified the sense of despair. It was a moment of vulnerability, a raw display of emotions that transcended the boundaries of the party atmosphere.

You clung to the hope that, perhaps, the night would offer some solace. Yet, as the minutes passed, the agony within you showed no signs of relenting. The facade of composure shattered, leaving you exposed to the harsh realities of heartbreak and longing. In that moment of profound vulnerability, you wrestled with the overwhelming pain that threatened to consume you entirely.

The cacophony of your breakdown was abruptly interrupted by a familiar voice cutting through the chaos, calling out your name with a mix of concern and shock. Startled, you halted your sobbing, slowly lifting your tear-streaked face to meet the gaze of the person before you.

There, standing in front of you, was Rafe. His expression revealed a cocktail of emotions—worry, surprise, and a hint of something else. His eyes, once filled with an intensity that was familiar to you, softened as they locked onto yours. The party's chaos seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of unexpected reunion.

As the night air hung heavy with the remnants of your tears, you and Rafe stood there, the unspoken weight of your shared history lingering between you. The world around you momentarily ceased to exist, and the only sound that mattered was the echo of your name in his voice.

"Y/N?"

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d, @givemylovetoall, @lucfics, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle, @maybankslover, @peachy4u2, @hockeybabe87, @yeosxxx