#also what if agents had to come up to you like

[witchywithwhiskey]

assembling legos in avengers tower

pairing: captain america!steve rogers x shield agent!female reader

summary: you want to spend a night assembling legos with steve rogers, but when he proves to be too good at it, you have to get creative.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established relationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, teasing, begging, dirty talk, praise kink, captain kink, pet names (buttercup, daisy, sunflower, honeysuckle), lots of kissing, lots of fluff and silliness, avengers tower shenanigans

word count: 4.9k

a/n: this fic is entirely inspired by a conversation i had with my therapist last week where she was helping me think of things to do to disconnect from social media and give myself a break from the world. i mentioned i had a box of lego daffodils i hadn't put together and she encouraged me to do that. however, i finished those in like a couple hours and now i need more... anyway, i hope y'all enjoy this bit of fluff/smut and i hope it's a nice distraction from the world!! ♡

“A daisy for my pretty girl.”

You were focused on assembling a plastic version of a queen anne’s lace when a pretty pink Lego gerbera daisy appeared in your eye line. Steve Rogers’ comfortingly deep voice and the flower he offered dragged your attention from what you’d been doing and you looked up for the first time in half an hour. 

You were curled up on the couch in Steve’s suite, assembling Legos in Avengers Tower on the rare night off he had from his duties as Captain America. He’d been sitting beside you, working away at his own flowers on the coffee table, but had clearly decided to get your attention with the pink daisy he’d finished. 

For a moment after you looked up from your own Lego flower, you were distracted by just how good Steve looked in a simple white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He always looked good, of course, but there was something especially delightful and attractive about seeing him in casual, cozy clothes. 

It almost made you want to abandon the Lego wildflower bouquet you were assembling together and slide into his lap. Suddenly, all you could think about was burying your fingers in his soft blond hair and having his sparkling blue eyes focused entirely on you for the rest of the night. But instead, you blinked and refocused on the moment. 

“Aw, thank you, captain,” you murmured, a smile curving your lips as you took the plastic flower from Steve and gave it a pretend sniff while batting your lashes at him. “My favorite.” Your words were little more than a purr, and you couldn’t help the way your smile widened when a pink flush dotted Steve’s cheeks.

It was on the tip of your tongue to suggest that you and Steve leave the rest of the Lego bouquet to be assembled another time, but then your gaze fell on the nine already-finished flowers that were neatly lined up on the table in front of the couch. Your smile fell.

Steve had already put together more than half of the flowers that had come in the box, and you still hadn’t finished a single one. Briefly, you were confused about how he’d put them together so fast—until you remembered something that often slipped peoples’ minds when it came to Captain America.

Everyone knew that Steve Rogers’ strength and stamina were enhanced when he’d been given the super-soldier serum in the 1940s, but most folks forgot that his intellect had been heightened as well. It was why he was the trusted leader of the Avengers—Steve had a knack for strategizing in the midst of battle. 

It also made him a wiz at puzzles. 

You should’ve known that Steve would easily zip through his half of the Lego bouquet while you toiled over a single flower. You knew he was smarter than the world—and even some of the other Avengers—gave him credit for, and you were disappointed in yourself for not thinking through the idea of assembling Legos together.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Steve was also much more perceptive than most gave him credit for, and he noticed your change in mood immediately.

“What’s wrong, daisy?” Steve asked, cupping your cheek in his large palm and turning your face gently to look at him. 

His brows were drawn together, and you knew instantly that he’d caught the slightly crestfallen look on your face. Before you could muster a smile and assure him everything was fine, Steve went on, his thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture so achingly soft, a lump of emotion formed in your throat. 

“Did I do something?”

“No, no, no, it’s nothing—really,” you said in a rush, trying to shake your head and show him that you were being silly. But your reaction only had Steve frowning even more.

Gently, he scooped you up off the couch and deposited you on his lap, arranging your body so you sat across his thighs, your legs curled up while he wrapped one arm around your back. Once you were settled, he cupped your chin in his other hand and tilted your face up so he could look into your eyes.

“Tell me, sunflower, please,” Steve rumbled, his final word a rasping plea that tugged so effectively at your heart, you couldn’t help but do as he so sweetly asked. 

“I just thought we’d spend a little more time working on these together, that’s all,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze to the corner of Steve’s mouth, which was turned down in a slight frown. You wanted to reach up and smooth away that unhappy curve with your fingers, but you knew it wouldn’t work. Steve could be stubborn when he wanted. 

“I’m sorry, buttercup,” Steve said in a hushed, regretful voice, ducking his head and pressing an apologetic kiss to your forehead.

You let out a soft, happy sigh as your eyes fluttered closed and you sank into the warmth of Steve’s body, snuggling deeper into his chest. You were wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts and a pair of leggings, so you weren’t necessarily cold, but you enjoyed the heat that emanated from him all the same.

“It’s ok, Steve, really,” you whispered, meaning the reassuring words more than you had a moment ago. Your thoughts were already straying to what you and Steve could do with the rest of the night alone in his suite…

You tipped your face up toward his, pouting your lips in a wordless plea for a kiss.

A chuckle rumbled deep in Steve’s chest moments before his lips brushed against yours. You could feel the smile in the gentle press of his lips, and your mouth curved in an answering smile, a giggle building in your chest at how silly the two of you must’ve looked—smiling at each other with your lips pressed together. 

But then Steve’s mouth pressed more firmly to yours, kissing you a little harder and a little longer, and the smile slipped off your face, your fingers curling into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You tugged him closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips sliding slowly against yours like he had all the time in the world and didn’t want to do anything other than kiss you.

The two of you sank deeper into the kiss together, your bodies growing heated and your hands beginning to wander. A hard bulge nudged against your thigh and Steve groaned into your mouth, and you suddenly had an idea.

Pulling away from Steve, you ended the kiss abruptly, a grin spreading across your face as you watched the big, blond man blink his way back into the present. He looked so cute all dazed out from kissing you that you took a moment to appreciate it before voicing your idea.

“I know how to make it more difficult for you to put Legos together so fast,” you said, your voice slightly wheezing as you worked to catch your breath. “We just need some more Lego flowers.”

Steve’s kiss-swollen lips curved into a smile of his own. “I think we can manage that, honeysuckle,” he murmured, his expression filled with affection as he took in the excitement on your face. “Just one more kiss first.” 

He reeled you in for another slow, drugging kiss, his mouth stealing the smile from your lips, though you were happy to give it to him if he kept kissing you like it was all he wanted to do.

A little later in the evening, Steve’s suite in Avengers Tower was piled high with dozens and dozens of boxes filled with Lego botanicals of all sorts. There were boxes for sunflowers and daffodils, two types of flower bouquets, and even a whole heaping pile of cacti and succulents. 

It was more than you’d ever know what to do with, but Steve looked so pleased with himself, all you could do was smile. If he wanted to spend the rest of his nights off with you, assembling Lego flowers, who were you to complain? It sounded like a dream come true.

“Bought out everything from the Botanical Collection at the Lego store over on fifth,” Steve was saying proudly as he opened a couple daffodil sets, pouring out the plastic packages onto the coffee table while you watched him with amusement. Steve cut his eyes to you and smirked as he said, “I put it all on Tony’s card—d’you think he’ll notice, buttercup?”

You couldn’t help yourself, you tossed your head back and cackled at that. You knew, as a member of the Avengers’ SHIELD support team, that Tony Stark had given all the members of the team access to his credit cards “for emergencies only,” and you were frankly surprised no one else had thought to use it to prank him before. 

When you finally got yourself under control and looked back at the mischievous Captain America, you shook your head at him. Your heart gave a little extra thump of delight when you saw the way Steve was looking at you, with so much happiness and affection, it made emotion clog your throat. It took you a full minute to gather your thoughts enough to answer his question. 

“Nah, there’s no way,” you scoffed, but then you tilted your head to the side and really thought about it. Your eyes trailed over the boxes. There were just so many. 

You figured Tony would leave something boring like financial statements to Pepper Potts, but there might be another way for Steve’s late-night Lego shopping spree to be used as a way to prank the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…

“Y’know, he might notice something when Lego flowers start popping up all around the tower,” you said slowly, cutting your eyes to Steve and offering him your own impish smirk. “Do you wanna see how many we can put in his lab before he says something?”

Steve’s head tipped back and he gave a great, booming laugh that filled all the corners of his suite. When he looked back at you, his blue eyes were sparkling with playfulness and his mouth was spread in a wide grin. 

“You’re diabolical, daisy,” he rumbled, pulling you closer on the couch so he could catch your lips in a kiss. 

It didn’t last long, both of you were too busy laughing to deepen it, but you did throw a leg over Steve’s thighs so you could sit in his lap. When you finally pulled away, you quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You up for the top secret mission, Cap?” you asked in a deceptively serious tone, the corners of your mouth flickering as you tried to hold back your grin. “You gonna help me prank Tony Stark?”

“Gladly,” Steve declared, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. 

All the evil plans that had been brewing in your mind disappeared when your heated core settled against the thick bulge in Steve’s sweatpants, a delighted gasp tumbling from your lips. Your gaze found Steve’s and a thrum of desire pulsed between your thighs when you saw how much his eyes had darkened.

“But first,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back beneath the sweatshirt you wore, making you tremble deliciously in his lap. “I’d like to hear more about how you’re planning to make it more difficult for me to assemble all these Lego flowers.”

Steve’s mouth captured yours in a searing kiss and it would be another long few minutes before you were able to actually tell him what you had planned for him.

“Hah! Another daisy done,” you crowed, bouncing a little on Steve’s lap and dragging a deep groan from the man beneath you.

The movement of your body had shifted his cock inside you, his thick, sensitive length dragging against your warm, inner walls, which were hugging him tightly while you exulted in your accomplishment. You’d managed to finish seven flowers since you’d put your plan into action, and you had no idea what kind of progress he’d made.

You did, however, know he was enjoying himself, if his deep moans and muffled groans were anything to go by. There was also the way his cock throbbed inside you every so often, like his body was encouraging yours to move, even though the point of your plan had been to sit still on his lap.

It had come to you earlier in the evening when you’d felt his hard bulge against your thigh—the only way to slow down Captain America’s super-soldier-enhanced intellect was to distract him. And you’d come up with the perfect way of distracting him.

Once you’d explained your plan to Steve, he’d been all too eager to enact it, sitting on the floor in front of the couch and pushing down the hem of his sweatpants so his cock had bobbed free. You’d discarded your leggings and panties before lowering yourself down on his lap, taking his thick, hard length deep into your pussy while you straddled his legs.

For the next half hour or so, you’d been assembling Lego wildflowers on the couch cushions behind Steve’s shoulders and he’d been working away at his own box of daffodils on the coffee table—all while trying not to get distracted by the way your pussy was dripping all over his thick cock.

Leaning back so you could catch Steve’s eye, you grinned at the pinkness in his cheeks and the slightly hazy look in his blue eyes. 

“You doing alright, captain?” you asked teasingly, your fingers trailing along Steve’s sharply cut jaw to turn his head so he’d look at you. His blue eyes were dark with lust as he blinked them into focus, a snarl of barely held restraint in the twist of his soft mouth. “It’s been a little while since you gave me any sort of update on how your flowers are coming along.”

You clenched your inner walls around Steve’s cock on the word ‘coming’ as a way to taunt the large blond man, and were satisfied by the way he grunted in pleasure, his eyes sliding closed. Plastic clattered on the coffee table when his hands abandoned the daffodil he’d been assembling to grab your hips, like he couldn’t stop himself from touching you any longer.

Steve huffed a laugh as he opened his eyes again, catching your gaze and groping your soft flesh a little roughly. He smirked when your mouth fell open and your eyes went heavy-lidded, his strong fingers working their way down to your ass as he kneaded your curves the way you liked—possessively.

“When you said you had an idea to make things more difficult for me, I thought you meant a blindfold, or hiding the directions,” Steve rumbled, his smirk turning playful and mischievous. 

His expression was your only warning, but you didn’t have a chance to prepare yourself. 

“Not this.” He thrust up from beneath you, slamming deep into your dripping pussy.

A moan wrenched free from your lips, pleasure bursting through your body at the friction of his cock dragging against your inner walls, the tip bullying against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You collapsed against Steve’s broad chest, gasping for air as you recovered from the single, brutal thrust.

It had been difficult to ignore the constant, throbbing perfection of Steve being inside you while you were cockwarming Captain America, but you’d done your best so that you could make headway in assembling your Lego wildflowers.

And, of course, it had become a stubborn stand-off between the two of you, where you both were holding out on giving in to your bodies’ desires. 

That hadn’t stopped you from taunting Steve, though, and you’d told him there was only one thing he could do that would make you forget about the Lego flowers entirely. He just hadn’t been willing to do it—but you smirked into his neck as you caught your breath, thinking he was finally ready to be done with the stand-off.

“If you want to fuck me, captain, you know what you have to do,” you purred in his ear, pulling away and nipping at his jaw, wringing another tortured groan from the super-soldier. “You just have to admit I’m the best Lego flower assembler in the tower.”

Steve had initially chuckled at your silly demand, playfully telling you he’d only admit such a thing when you assembled as many flowers as him. 

But the way his cock throbbed inside you when you called him ‘captain’ and the way his hands were desperately groping your hips, ass and thighs—any soft part of you he could reach beneath your sweatshirt—told you he had reached his limit. So, his next words didn’t come as much of a surprise.

“You are, honeysuckle, you’re the best Lego flower assembler in the whole fucking tower,” Steve rasped, his hips rocking slightly, like he simply couldn’t stop himself from fucking you even a little bit. His fingers were digging deep into the soft flesh of your body, moving you back and forth to grind on his cock. “You’re the best in the whole city—please, just let me fuck you, sunflower.”

Your breaths were catching in your throat as helpless whimpers and moans tumbled from your lips. The way Steve was jerking your body on his cock, like you were little more than a fuck toy for him to play with, was making your mind melt as heat cascaded through your body, settling heavily between your thighs.

It felt so good—Steve’s cock grinding deep in your cunt, your wetness dripping down his hard length to soak his balls, your clit rubbing against the base of him—that it took your mouth a moment to remember how to form more than unintelligible sounds of pleasure. 

“Yes,” you gasped finally, dragging the word from the depths of your desire-drenched mind. And once you started, you couldn’t seem to stop, your hips rocking into Steve’s, meeting his grinding thrusts as you clung to his shoulders, your fingers buried in his soft hair. “Please, captain—please fuck me.”

“Thank fuck,” Steve growled, wrapping you up tightly in his arms and pounding into you from below. He held you pinned to his broad chest and buried his face against you, his lips mouthing at the soft mounds of your tits through your sweatshirt. “You feel so fucking good, buttercup, so warm and soft and fucking perfect wrapped around my cock.”

“Oh god, oh fuck, Steve,” you babbled, spreading your thighs wider and splaying them further open so that Steve could slam deeper and deeper into your pussy, making your head spin with how good it felt, how wildly perfect it felt to be fucked by him. “You fuck me so good, captain—please, ‘m already so close, Steve—please.” 

Your last word was a desperate, begging cry as your body trembled so violently in Steve’s arms that he had to hold you tighter to keep you right where he wanted you. Pleasure was coiled tightly in your core, and you knew you were seconds away from cumming. It was all you could do to gasp for air as you prepared to tip over the edge.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” Steve rumbled, lifting his head from your tits to drag his mouth along the line of your jaw until he found your lips. His kiss was so all-consuming, you almost missed the way he tilted your hips so your clit was grinding ruthlessly against his pelvic bone while he rocked up into you. “Cum on your captain’s cock like the good girl I know you are.”

His command was rumbled against your lips before his mouth pressed back against you, his tongue plunging into you and swallowing your sounds of ecstasy as you shattered apart. You were undone by his words and the deliciously perfect way he worked your body.

The sheer force of your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs and you screamed, the sound muffled by Steve’s lips as he eagerly drank down the sound like it was his favorite thing in the world. Wave after wave of heated pleasure washed over your body and you moaned helplessly as your pussy clenched hard around Steve’s cock.

A groan ripped free from the depths of his chest and poured between your parted lips as he followed you over the edge, his hips rutting into you with hard thrusts that had you bouncing wildly on his cock. 

If it wasn’t for Steve’s arms still holding you firmly against his chest, you were sure you would’ve lost your balance, but he kept you right where you were meant to be—on his cock while he emptied his balls into your cunt.

As Steve spilled himself inside you, your hands slid from his hair to hold his jaw in your palms. You kissed him through his release, licking his sounds of pleasure off his tongue and groaning at the delicious warmth that filled your body from head to toe. 

Once Steve’s cock had been milked dry of all his cum, he rumbled a satisfied sound and finally loosened his hold on you. His big hands stroked up your spine and back down again, soothing your body as you relaxed against his chest, your mouths still moving together in an endless kiss. 

Eventually, you pulled away from his mouth and let your head fall to his shoulder as your eyes slipped closed. A happy, contented sigh puffed from your lips and gusted against Steve’s neck, making him tremble slightly.

“So,” you started when you’d finally caught your breath, your heart rate back to normal and matching the steady pounding in Steve’s chest where you were pressed together. “How many flowers did you put together after I started cockwarming you, captain?”

Steve was quiet for so long, you half thought he’d fallen asleep against the couch, but then his hand squeezed your hip and he huffed an exasperated laugh. 

“Three.”

Your cackling laugh was so loud, it filled every corner of Steve’s suite, and a moment later, Captain America’s booming chuckle joined the din to make a wonderful cacophony of joy in your little corner of Avengers Tower. 

It seemed you had, in fact, figured out a way to make assembling legos with Captain America much more fair—and much more fun. 

A week later, Tony Stark stormed into the Avengers Tower conference room where he’d gathered all the superheroes and their SHIELD support team for what he’d deemed an “urgent” meeting. 

You sat next to Steve, his hand on your thigh and his fingers twisted with yours as you tried not to look at each other. Both of you suspected you knew what the meeting was about, and you knew you’d both break if you made eye contact.

It didn’t help matters when Tony slammed a small, potted Lego succulent on the glass table of the conference room, hard enough for the whole thing to tremble. A hush fell over the room as everyone stared at the irate Iron Man.

“Where the hell are all these Legos coming from?!” he demanded, his seething gaze roving the room, making eye contact with every single person who sat around the table. When no one spoke, he went on. “They keep popping up in my lab—and they’re starting to crowd my workstation. So who is it?”

You couldn’t help yourself, you cut a sideways glance at Captain America, and had to press your lips even more tightly together to hold back a laugh. 

Steve’s gaze was filled with so much mischievous amusement, you could feel a laugh clawing up your throat. As you looked at him, Steve let the corner of his mouth flicker in a smirk, and it was nearly your undoing. You looked away before you could snort and give yourself away.

Thankfully, Clint Barton piped up, telling the room he’d assumed Tony had been the one assembling the Lego flowers that had been showing up all over the tower. He noted he’d found them in the kitchen, the gym, both locker rooms, and plenty of other places.

Bruce Banner agreed with Clint, asking Tony if he hadn’t picked up the hobby during one of his latest bouts of insomnia. It would make sense, Bruce reasoned, since most of the Legos seemed to be cropping up in Tony’s lab.

Meanwhile, Thor had plucked the Lego succulent from Tony and was playing with the pieces, pulling them apart and putting them back together. He lifted his head with a goofy grin and nudged Phil Coulson, murmuring something about the tiny building toy being quite fun actually.

At the opposite end of the table, Nick Fury and Maria Hill shared an exasperated look, then began having a hushed conversation among themselves. You caught snippets of intel about the next mission the Avengers were set to go on, but that was less interesting to you than the reason for Tony’s “urgent” meeting so your gaze slide away to see how everyone else was reacting.

Across from you, Natasha Romanoff caught your eye. She flicked something tiny and pink across the glass surface of the conference table, so discretely, no one else noticed except Steve. He caught the pink thing in his hand as it tumbled over the edge toward your lap.

When the two of you glanced down at his open palm, you discovered the tiny pink thing was a Lego cherry blossom from one of the sets you’d assembled and left in the kitchen. 

Looking back at Natasha, she was smirking, and there was an unmistakeable knowing glint in her eyes.

As you watched, though, she pinched two fingers together and twisted them near the corner of her mouth, like she was turning a key in a lock. Her message was clear: Nat knew the Legos were coming from you and Steve, but she wasn’t going to say anything.  

Both you and Steve let out silent sighs of relief. 

The meeting went on for a little longer after that, though it didn’t go anywhere. No one admitted to planting the Lego flowers around the tower, and Tony was still furious that he didn’t know who was behind it. 

Fury finally had to call an end to things when it looked like Tony and Thor were about to come to blows, the former convinced Thor was playing dumb about not knowing anything about Legos while the latter was grinning and egging him on.

Another week passed of Lego flowers and succulents appearing around the tower. Nat had taken to helping you and Steve, sneaking into Tony’s lab while the two of you kept him distracted with speculation about who it could be. Clint caught you leaving a Lego cactus on Bruce’s desk, but he promised to keep your secret and even joined in on the fun just like Nat had.

It wasn’t until the end of the month when Tony called another “urgent” meeting that your prank was finally unmasked. 

Tony had a sheaf of papers in one hand and a video disc in the other, claiming that Pepper had discovered the charges made to one of his cards at the Lego store over on fifth. Apparently, he’d talked the manager into giving him a copy of the security tapes from the night when they’d been purchased, so he was about to uncover the culprit.

Once he’d announced all of this, Tony paused for dramatic effect, giving everyone in the room one last chance to come clean.

That time, when Steve cut his eyes to you, his mouth flickering with a smile, you couldn’t keep it together. Steve and you both lost it, laughing so hard, tears began streaming down your faces while Nat and Clint shared a private, knowing chuckle.

Steve came clean about the prank and admitted it had been you and him the whole time. He even explained how you’d roped Clint and Nat into helping once they’d discovered you—and both of them nodded to confirm Steve was telling the truth, grinning unrepentantly.

Tony took it all in stride, seemingly relieved to finally know the source of all the Legos. He did ask how Steve managed to spend so much money at the Lego store though. By his calculations, not even half of the Lego flowers Steve had purchased had popped up around the tower.

At that question, Steve’s cheeks pinkened a little and he admitted there was still a hefty pile of Lego boxes in his suite. You and him had spent plenty of nights assembling Legos—even when you weren’t getting distracted by cockwarming Captain America—but there were still a lot left. 

Squeezing his hand in your lap, you spoke up with a suggestion for a Lego night, where everyone could get together and assemble some Legos. It could be a fun opportunity of team bonding, you said.

Fury liked the idea so much, he approved it immediately, then wasted no time in calling an end to the “urgent” meeting.

And that was how you ended up spending a night assembling Legos in Avengers Tower with Steve Rogers and the rest of team, laughing and talking and taking a much-needed break from the stresses of the world. It was the first of many wonderful nights.

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door (18+, NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You don't really talk to your (extremely attractive) neighbour, Rio Vidal, until one day an accident leads to you staying at her apartment for a couple of days. And an awkward encounter results in having your fantasy come true. -OR- Rio finds you injured after you slipped and fell out the shower and decides to look after you (non-magic AU)

Warnings: Blood, small injury, fluff, smut, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving)

Words: 3.4k

A/N: Just wanted to write a bit of Rio caring for reader and well then it turned into smut and I have no regrets. Also I have their whole relationship arc in my head now lol

Read it on AO3

Rio Vidal is your neighbour. You've noticed her plenty of times before—a striking woman with a sharp, confident look that's hard to ignore. You live in the same apartment building, just across the hall from one another. Most days, your interactions are limited to polite smiles and brief chats in the elevator, her dark suit and badge often catching your eye. You've heard her phone buzz with work calls that end with her curt, professional voice. It's obvious she's someone important—serious and dedicated. You've pieced together that she's an FBI agent, but beyond that, you don't know much about her.

You can't deny that you're drawn to her, though. There's something about the way she carries herself—all self-assured and enigmatic. You've caught yourself staring a few times, your heart skipping a beat when she looks back and flashes a rare, amused smile. It's not just her looks—it's the way she moves, the air of mystery she carries, like she's seen things you could only imagine. It makes you nervous, but at the same time, you can't help but look forward to those fleeting moments when your paths cross.

One morning, your shower decides to betray you—your hot water cuts out just as you put your head under. You let out a bloodcurdling scream, quickly trying to jump out of the shower. Unfortunately for you, your foot slips on the hard floor, and you come crashing down, hitting your head on the sink, landing with a very loud thud. Dazed and confused, you are unsure if you passed out for a second there or not, but either way your head is killing you. 

"Fucking brilliant," you mutter to yourself, draping an arm across your eyes to shield them from the light.

At that moment, you heard your front door slamming open and hurried footsteps searching your apartment. You had just about enough sense to yank your towel off the hook and cover up your naked body.

"Y/N?" called a voice just outside the bathroom door.

Shit. It was Rio. You wished the ground would just swallow you up.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream, and then I heard something shatter." You could hear the genuine concern in her voice.

Lifting your head slightly, you noticed the shards of glass from what used to be your bathroom shelf, surrounding you. All you could do was let out a groan and close your eyes at this new development of what was turning out to be the worst morning of your life so far.

This was a bad choice, as a split second later, Rio barged into your bathroom.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Your neighbour teased, but you could hear the relief in her voice. She moved further into the room, assessing the damage. "Not to ruin such a perfect morning for you, but I might have broken your door getting in here." 

You open your eyes, blinking up at her. Taking her in, you noticed she was wearing a cropped baggy tank top and gym shorts. You blink up at her again, and your head throbs with each beat of your pulse, the pain radiating down your neck. You're still dazed, trying to process how you ended up sprawled on the cold bathroom floor with your FBI agent neighbour standing over you. Rio's sharp eyes take in your silence, concern clouding the playful smirk she'd worn just moments before.

"Hey," she says, voice softer now, as she crouches down beside you. She reaches out, fingertips gently brushing your cheek to turn your face towards her. "Y/N, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

You swallow, trying to focus. Her touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to her usual no-nonsense demeanour. You nod slightly, the movement making your head spin. "Rio," you manage to croak out. "Neighbour, FBI agent. And, apparently, a door kicker."

She huffs a laugh, a brief flicker of relief crossing her face. "Good. That's a start. I don't usually make a habit of barging into people's bathrooms uninvited, but I heard that scream, and... well, I'm glad I did." Her eyes drop down to your arm, where blood seeps from a jagged cut. She curses under her breath, her grip on your shoulder tightening just slightly. "You're bleeding. We need to get you cleaned up."

You glance down at your arm, wincing at the sight of blood trickling down to your hand. "I really know how to make an impression, huh?"

Rio shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tight line. "Let's save the jokes until you're not covered in glass, yeah?" Without another word, she slips an arm under your shoulders, helping you sit up. The world tilts slightly, but her hold on you is firm, steadying you as you get your bearings.

"You're going to have to trust me for a minute," she tells you softly. "Can you stand?"

"Maybe," you say, though you're not entirely sure. She helps you up, careful not to jostle your injured arm, and you try to ignore the heat of her skin against yours, the way her fingers dig into your side just enough to ground you.

Rio's eyes dart around the room, quickly assessing the mess of broken glass and water pooling on the floor. "Alright," she says decisively. "I'm taking you back to my place. We'll patch you up there. Your shower is out of commission, and I don't trust that you won't take another tumble if I leave you alone here."

You don't have the energy to argue, so you just nod, letting her guide you out of the bathroom. The two of you make it to the hallway, but not before she grabs a spare towel and wraps it around you more securely. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there's a gentleness to them that surprises you. It's a side of Rio you've never seen before—one that's patient and caring, not just the tough, sarcastic woman you've exchanged pleasantries with in passing.

As you step into her apartment, you notice it's much more personal than you'd imagined. There are framed photos on the walls—nothing too sentimental, mostly candid shots of places she's travelled to, city skylines, and sunsets. Her living room is cosy, with a worn leather couch and a small stack of books piled on the coffee table.

"Sit," she instructs, pointing to the couch. You sink down into it, feeling strangely out of place but oddly comfortable. Rio disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a first aid kit. She kneels in front of you, carefully prying your hand away from your arm.

"This is going to sting," she warns, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. You flinch as she cleans the cut, her brows knitting together in concentration. "Sorry," she mutters. "I'm used to dealing with criminals and suspects, not clumsy neighbours."

"Criminals don't trip in the shower much?" you quip, trying for humour despite the pain. It earns you a small smile from Rio, her eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Not usually, no. Though I'll admit you're far more entertaining." Her voice softens again, the smirk fading as she wraps a bandage around your arm. "You scared me for a second there, you know."

The confession catches you off guard. "I did? you ask, watching her face as she finishes tying off the bandage.

She doesn't look up, her focus still on your arm. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I thought something bad had happened. Guess I care more about my neighbour than I realised."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hanging in the air between you. It's the first real admission of anything beyond casual friendliness, and it leaves you breathless. You're about to say something—anything—but Rio stands up, offering her hand to you.

"Come on," she says. "Let's get you some proper clothes and maybe a coffee. You can stay here until we sort out your door and shower."

Rio's grip on your hand is firm as she helps you up, her expression still hovering somewhere between concern and her usual, dry amusement. You follow her into the kitchen, and she releases you, motioning for you to sit at the table. It feels strange being here, in her space, especially after the chaos of your morning. She pulls out a chair for you with a slight roll of her eyes, as if it's absurd that you'd even try to resist her instruction.

"I don't have any shifts for the next two days," she announces, moving towards the coffee maker without glancing back at you. "And considering you might've blacked out for a second back there, I'm not letting you out of my sight. So, you're staying with me, here, until you're back on your feet properly."

You open your mouth to argue, but the look she throws over her shoulder silences you. It's one part worry and two parts something else—something softer, almost protective.

"I can manage," you say, but your voice lacks conviction, especially as you rub your throbbing arm. The bandage is already starting to bleed through a bit. Rio's eyes narrow at the sight, and she steps closer, prodding your arm gently.

"Yeah, you're doing a great job," she says dryly, then nods to herself. "You're staying here."

"Fine," you sigh, though part of you feels a flutter of something—relief, maybe, or the thrill of being looked after by someone like Rio. "But I can sleep on the couch. I don't want to kick you out of your bed."

Rio's lips twitch into a smirk. "I'm not letting you take the couch. You've already proven that you're a danger to yourself in any situation that involves standing up."

You can't help but laugh, despite everything. "So, what, we share your bed?"

She raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to challenge her. "It's a queen size. I think we can manage. Unless you've suddenly developed a fear of co-sleeping?"

The thought of sharing a bed with her sends a rush of heat through you, but you try to play it off with a shrug. "As long as you don't hog the covers."

"I'll do my best," she says, the smirk widening.

-

The first night is awkward, as expected. You lie stiffly on one side of the bed, while Rio takes the other, the space between you feeling like a chasm despite the closeness. She's warm though, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body and the subtle scent of her shampoo filling your senses. It's both comforting and maddening, making it hard to fall asleep. Your hyper-aware of every shift she makes, every time her arm brushes against yours. At some point, she turns onto her side, facing you, and you feel her eyes on you in the dark.

"You still awake?" she whispers.

"Yeah," you reply, swallowing hard.

There's a pause, then you feel her hand brush against yours. It's light, almost as if by accident, but when you don't pull away, she leaves it there, her fingers barely touching yours.

"Try to get some sleep," she murmurs. "You need to rest."

"Alright," you say, voice hoarse, and somehow, with her so close, you finally drift off.

Over the next day and a half, the tension between you shifts, It's subtle at first—small, lingering glances from Rio that last a bit too long, the brush of her fingers against your back when she helps you into the kitchen. Her sarcasm returns, but there's a flirtatious edge to it now, like she's testing the waters.

"You're really milking this injury, aren't you?" She teases, handing you your drink to have with the pizza she bought for dinner. "You'd think you broke your entire body, the way you're lounging around."

"Hey," you protest, setting the drink down. "You're the one who insisted I stay. Don't blame me for enjoying the hospitality."

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh, I'm well aware. But don't get too comfortable with me waiting on you hand and foot—I've got to go back to work tomorrow.

-

That night, the atmosphere between you shifts even more. When you climb into bed besides Rio, there's no hesitation this time. She turns towards you almost immediately, her hand resting lightly on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of your shirt, her breath warm against the back of your neck. It's a small touch, nothing too bold, but it feels significant—an unspoken acknowledgement of everything simmering between you two. You fall asleep like that, closer than before, your fingers unconsciously brushing hers under the covers.

When you wake up, she's already dressed for the day, leaning over you with a mug of coffee in hand. She sets it down on the nightstand with a playful smile. "Morning sweetheart," she says, her voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, but there's a softness to it now. "Try not to do anything risky while I'm gone, yeah? I don't want to come back to find you've taken a tumble without me here to save the day."

You laugh, reaching for the coffee, but there's a flutter in your chest at the pet name, even if she means it jokingly. "I'll do my best," you say. "But no promises."

She smirks, leaning down just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'll be back later. Make yourself at home."

You do. The rest of the day passes in a strangely pleasant haze, and you find yourself enjoying the small comforts of her apartment. It's quiet without her, but there's a sense of ease you haven't felt in a long time, like you truly belong here. You find yourself smiling for no reason, touching the small trinkets on her shelves, running your fingers over the soft throw blankets she has draped across the couch.

By the time you decide to take a shower, you're feeling entirely too content. You strip down, stepping under the hot spray with a sigh. That's when your thoughts drift back to Rio—how she looked last night, half-asleep and tousled, her arm draped over your waist, her expression unguarded in a way you'd never seen before.

Your thoughts turn to fantasy almost unbidden. You imagine her joining you in the shower, pressing you back against the cold tiles, her hands sliding down your wet skin. You can almost feel it—the heat of her breath on your neck, the firmness of her body against yours. You start to move your hand towards your aching clit, letting out a quiet, shuddering moan, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to kiss her and have her hands on you.

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but suddenly, you hear her voice—low and amused. "You sure you're okay in here? Didn't have another fall, did you?"

You freeze, eyes snapping open. You can barely see her through the steam, but she's there, standing just outside the shower curtain, and you realise with a jolt that she must have heard you. You heart slams against your ribs as the curtain slides back just a little, and Rio steps inside completely naked, her smirk evident even through the haze.

"I really just can't trust you not to injure yourself while showering, can I?" she says, voice teasing but thick with something else—desire, maybe. Her eyes travel down your body, lingering in a way that sends a shiver through you.

"Rio," you breathe out, half a warning, half a plea.

She steps closer, crowding you against the wall, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. "You know," she murmurs, her lips so close to yours now that you can feel the brush of them with every word. "I think you've been waiting for me to do this."

And then she kisses you, slow and heated, like she's been thinking about this just as much as you have. Her mouth is soft but insistent, coaxing a response from you until you melt into her, hands tangling in her hair as you kiss her back just as eagerly. The steam from the shower mixes with the heat between you, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, her forehead resting against yours. "I knew it," she whispers, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You've been wanting this so badly, haven't you?"

You nod, swallowing thickly. "Yeah," you admit, barely louder than a whisper. "I have."

She grins, tugging you closer until you're pressed against her, chest to chest. "Good," she says, leaning in to kiss you again, deeper this time. "Because I've been wanting it too."

And with that, she shoves you against the wall. Hard. She's kissing you all over, igniting the skin where each one lands. She nips and sucks at your neck, finding where you're most sensitive. A moan escapes your lips, and you buck your hips, trying to get any kind of friction against your core. For a brief moment, you start to get embarrassed, but then one of Rio's hands finds its way between your legs. She dips a finger between your lips and hums at how wet you already are for her.

Looking directly into your eyes, silently telling you to keep her gaze, she lowers herself to suck on one of your tits, tongue swirling around your nipple, making it harden quickly. The hand not on your clit, starts to pinch your other nipple, pulling another loud guttural moan from you. 

Working her mouth down your torso, marking up your body as she goes, Rio sinks to her knees, her face now directly opposite your dripping cunt, eyes still locked on yours.

Her hands deftly grip your hips, steadying you against the wall. "You've got to promise me you're not going to fall again, sweetheart," she all but growls, the arousal evident in her voice.

You nod your head, but it wasn't enough for the woman, who digs her nails into your skin where she's holding you. "Ye-Yes. I promise."

That was all Rio needs before she starts to drag her tongue through your folds. Switching between broad licks along the length between your entrance and your clit, and firmer, more purposeful circles over your bundle of nerves.

You feel dizzy, but you know it has nothing to do with your concussion and everything to do with the woman kneeling between your legs. Despite your head spinning, you manage to bring your hands down to tangle in Rio's hair, pushing her harder into you. You need more.

She moans against you, clearly enjoying how turned on you are. The vibration from the moan goes straight to your core, and you nearly cum just from that. Sensing you're close, Rio pushes two fingers inside you, causing you to curse her name inbetween moans.

You feel her chuckle and then start fucking you more vigorously. "I want to hear you, baby. I want the whole floor to hear you moan my name," she says, momentarily pulling away from your pussy. You can't help but oblige as she starts to curl her fingers, resuming her licking and sucking.

With her fingers curling inside you like that, it isn't long before you climax, legs shaking, coming hard over her fingers and tongue. Rio helps you through the end of your orgasm, making sure to hold you up as you come back down. 

"Okay, darling, I think we need to sit you down before you lose another fight with gravity," Rio smirks. You can't help but agree; your knees feel very weak and it's taking all of your concentration to stay upright.

"Oh, by the way, I bumped into the maintenance guys on my way in," Rio says lightly, helping you out of the shower. "And they said that your door isn't getting fixed for at least another week. So, it looks like you'll have me to help you shower for a little while longer." Winking, she drags you to her bed, determined to continue what she had just started

[temilyrights]

43) “god you’re so emotionally constipated.” for Emily x Reader please.

history smothers us

emily prentiss x gn!reader

summary: years of unspoken words and misconceptions threaten to destroy what remains of a once close relationship. you couldn't imagine your life without emily. now you look at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. featuring prompt "god you're so emotionally consitpated" from my prompt list.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with a happy ending. mention of blood. no use of y/n. set in season 12. unit chief prentiss.

a/n: thank you so much for the request <3 sorry it took me a while I struggled to find the right idea. I imagine this wasn't what you had in mind but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. also side note: i've deleted my taglist, i'm restarting because it was years old so if anyone would like be re-tagged or anyone new would like to be added pls lmk!

The police lights flash in the midnight sky. Agents and local police spread across the farmhouse. And you, sitting in the back of an ambulance, blood dripping down the side of your head, the beginnings of a headache making itself known.  

The bright torch shining in your eyes makes you wince, but the EMT clears you of a concussion and hands you pain meds to swallow. You drag your hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips. 

The unsub had come out of nowhere and whacked you over the head with a metal pole, and he probably would’ve done a lot more if it wasn’t for Tara being two steps behind you. 

Honestly, you were fine. A little banged up, with a nasty bruise already forming, but the blood had been wiped away and it was almost like it had never happened.

Well, apart from the very angry Unit Chief Prentiss stalking towards you. 

You wish this was an unfamiliar sight, but god she’d been back months now and you don’t think her smile had been pointed in your direction once. 

“What were you thinking?” She scolds, voice sharp and eyes narrowed. You don’t miss the shaking of her hands as she holds them tightly on her hips or the rising flush of her cheeks, both she would blame on the cold but you knew they were born out of concern, not that she’d ever admit it. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the FBI now required its agents to have the abilities to see through walls.” You roll your eyes, the half-joke an attempt to fix her glare, but you know even as the words pass your lips it’s futile. Your shoulders slump, already tired for the fight ahead,  “He came out of nowhere, Prentiss.” 

Her lips purse, “They require you to be able to clear a room. It seems you might need a refresher course. Maybe until you can be trusted and I deem you requalified it’s best you stay back in quantico.” 

“What?” You ask incredulously. Of all the dumb things- “Let me get this straight, you’re benching me over nothing? Tara was through that door seconds later. I wasn’t defying your orders. You have no reason to do this!”

“I want you to redo your basic training so I know you can be trusted in the field.” She demands, stoic, serious, and so far away from the soft woman you used to be able to reach out to. 

You laugh, but the noise is sad and wild. You shake your head in disbelief, watching the woman in front of you that years ago used to be the person you were closest to in the world. Now you stare at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. “God, you’re so emotionally constipated.” 

“Excuse me?” 

You push yourself off the end of the ambulance, bringing yourself to your full height and meeting her gaze. You knew the day she accepted the unit chief position this wouldn’t end well, there was too much history, too much the two of you had left unsaid, hurt and anger smothering any possible relationship left. 

“Let’s not pretend this has anything to do with my performance.” You begin,

words low enough that if she didn’t listen the words threatened to disappear with the wind, “It’s because I got hurt and you’d rather damage my career and ruin the tatters of our relationship than admit that me getting hurt scared you.” 

Emily steps backwards, face stricken. Her hands fall from her hips, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles for words. 

You decide there’s nothing left she can say. You excuse yourself and grab a lift with Luke, happy to leave the crime scene and your boss behind. After everyone’s finished at the farmhouse and packed up at the police station it’s nearing two am and everyone is ordered back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before the flight in the morning. 

Your feet are dragging by the time you make it to your room. The meds have done their job though and your headache had faded away, but nothing but sleep was going to help your heavy and aching bones. You wave a tired goodbye to Tara, who unlike Emily had no issues checking in and making sure you were okay, and then retreat to your room. 

You slump into the chair at the desk, telling yourself you’ll find the energy to get ready for bed in one minute. But so thankful to finally be off your feet. Your reprieve lasts only minutes before a knock sounds at your door. A withered sigh leaves your lips and you consider ignoring it but still find yourself pushing yourself upright and making your way back to the door. 

When you open it, you wish you’d listened to your thoughts. 

“Hi?” You say hesitantly, staring into the tired face of Emily Prentiss. There’s no anger, her shoulders are almost slumped, defeated maybe? You look away, too scared to analyse further. 

“Can I come in?” 

You open the door further allowing her entrance. She smiles, tight lipped at you, nodding her thanks. You close the door and wait for her to speak, pondering how in the hell you both got to awkward silences and forced tight lipped smiles when years ago you two could share looks across the room and know what the other was thinking, spent hours talking and laughing together, how you had built a life and never thought there would be a day that she wasn’t in it with you. 

“We can’t go on like this.” She starts eyes meeting yours before flickering away, “Things between us have not been right since I returned and I think maybe we should clear the air. I want to be the Unit Chief, I want to be back here at Quantico but that only works if we can be a team.” 

You scoff. It slips from your mouth, uncontrolled and harsh. Emily’s gaze snaps to yours, her surprise at the sound clear. You shake your head, “What is there to say?” Where would we even begin?

“I-” She chokes, blinking as the emotions claw at her throat. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Your brows draw in confusion as you shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

“After everything that happened with Doyle-”

Your eyes bulge, “You think I'm still upset about that? God, do you think I’m a monster? You survived. You lived. That’s all that matters.” 

Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her gaze shifting to the wall as her fingers pick at a hangnail. She looks back at you, still picking, gaze more open and lost than you’ve seen in a long time. “Then why? I hurt you. I can see it in the way you can barely stand to be around me, like it hurts you to even be in my presence.” 

You blow out a breath, eyes moving around the room before they land back on her and then away again. “It’s not your fault.” You breathe, emotions lodged in your throat and heart beating wildly against your chest as you try and force the words out. “You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself. There was never going to be a life I led that you weren’t right with me, you know?” You laugh, wet and broken. 

Emily’s mouth falls open, her eyes emotional pits that you don’t dare hold. 

“And then you left for London and I couldn’t exactly be upset because I had no say in what you did with your life. We were just friends. I knew it’s what you needed and I don’t resent you for that. I just…” You take a breath, “I was so angry at myself for missing you, for thinking that I could be someone you would stay for.”

And there it was. The truth. Because at the end of the day, you’ve always just wanted to be enough for the woman in front of you. For her to see you as more than just your friend. To one day have your feelings returned. 

She’d left and you’d both been busy and you’d deliberately tried to separate yourself as well, drawing back from the painful reminder that you weren’t enough. And since her return, all those emotions have been resurfacing, however much you tried to keep them buried. Because falling out of love with Emily Prentiss was just not something you were capable of, and you’ve spent years trying too. 

Emily approaches you, the space between you closing ever so slightly. Your gaze sticks to the ground, scared to see the easy to read emotions across her face. She takes a breath, the sound muffled by the beating of your heart.

“After I came back from Paris, I used to find myself looking at you and knowing I couldn’t be that woman you remembered, the one you sought for. I wanted to. Desperately.” Her voice hitches, and then lowers to a hoarse whisper, “I wanted to be the woman you fell for.” 

Your eyes finally rise, against your will. Tears make their way in delicate paths down her cheeks, she looks every bit as lost as you feel. The only thing stopping you from falling apart is the fear that if you let go you may never recover. 

“I didn’t need you to be anyone. I just wanted you to be yourself. I wanted you to trust me.” You respond gently.

She shakes her head, “No, everyone was looking for that version of me that I couldn’t grasp onto.”

“Emily,” You sigh painfully. Her face crumples, eyes squeezing shut at the sound of her name from your lips. It’s been so long, you know. “You were healing from a trauma. I’ve always wanted the authentic you, whatever that includes. Why would that suddenly change?” 

She nods, a deep frown on her face as she accepts your words. Then a wet laugh, as she wipes away her tears. “I’ve missed you. Every day. I hate being in the same room as you and it being awkward. I used to be able to look at you and know what you’re thinking. I want that back.” 

A small smile curves your lips, “Me too, more than anything.” 

“Yeah?” She questions. Her teeth run across her lip, as she dares to hope. “You think we could get back there?” 

Your heart hammers. “I just need you to be really clear here. What exactly are we getting back to?” 

She steps forward, finally close enough to touch. Her hand hesitantly reaches out and touches yours, her cold fingers intertwining with your warm ones. Your body remembers her touch, relaxes and leans into it automatically. You eat it hungrily, tracking the movement before your eyes rise to meet hers and find soft, open eyes watching you. “I want to make you fall in love with me again.”

Your breath catches in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand shakes in hers.

“And this time, I promise, I’ll be there to catch you.” 

“We might have a slight problem with that plan.” You laugh, trying your hardest not to sob.

She frowns, nose wrinkling in the way you adore. “What’s that?” 

“It’s pretty difficult to re-fall in love when I never stopped loving you in the first place.” You huff, and Emily laughs, rich and free and bright. Her face joyful and happy, and with the wide bright smile you’ve waited months to feel pointed in your direction. God the sight makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” She asks, hand moving up to cup your cheek, eyes full of love and pointed at you. 

You can only nod, dizzy from her attention and the emotions coursing through your body. 

When her lips find yours it feels like finally coming home. Soft and delicate, both too scared to push too hard, exploring slowing even as her hand holds your cheek and yours fists in her shirt. You’ve waited years for this, and if you get more of these than it will be worth it. Everything is worth it for the feeling of Emily in your arms. 

When she pulls away, it’s too soon. You follow her mouth and she concedes and gives you a couple more slow kisses before she stops herself, resting her forehead against yours.

“I just want to say sorry for earlier.” She whispers into the safe space you’ve built. “You were right, I was scared when you got hurt. Dave’s already kicked my ass for my response, you won’t receive any disciplinary action.”

You nod slightly, her forehead moving against yours, “Thank you.” 

“It won’t happen again.” She promises, sealing the words with a kiss to your lips. 

“I know.” You kiss her again, but this time you break out into a yawn midway through. Your momentarily forgotten exhaustion, making itself known. 

She melts against you, caressing your cheek. “Oh, you need to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. I’m taking you out for dinner.” 

You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to take over your face, “A date?” 

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yes, a date. But only if you sleep first.” 

“Your wish is my command.” You can’t stop the grin from taking over your face anymore. You press a peck to her lips and lead her back towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.” She agrees, eyes fluttering over your face as if she’s committing every aspect to memory. “Sleep well.” 

“You too.” 

She presses one last kiss to your lips before she opens the door and makes her exit. You close the door quietly behind her, sinking back into it and allowing the giggle to finally escape your mouth.

What the fuck had just happened. 

Emily Prentiss kissed you. 

Emily Prentiss has feelings for you. 

You weren’t alone.

You bite your lip and push off the door, finally ready to get ready for bed and praying come morning that this would still be your reality.

taglist: @aburman03

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Runaway - Logan Howlett x platonic!Reader

A/N: This is a fox mutant!Reader story based on this request. I tried to get it as close to the request as I could, but idk if I succeeded. I think it’s good either way

Written for a gn!Reader

Reader is an unspecified age, but is a student and is called kid in the fic

CW: fox mutant!Reader; platonic!Reader; young!Reader; mentions of past bullying; Reader runs outside a lot; very mild Professor X hate; Reader has animal instincts; Reader has heightened senses; sorta written for original movie trilogy Logan; Reader is called kid; Reader is a little wild; Reader has animal characteristics; Reader adopts Logan into their pack; what is a praise kink without the kink part? A natural desire for praise, I guess???; I don’t know how to tag this; fluff

637 words

You hated the school.

It was too… clean. Too neat and tidy. Everything smelled… sterile. Like cleaning agents and sanitizer.

The kids were interesting, you supposed. You’d always considered your mutation a curse, given all the bullying it had caused at your old school. But now? Everyone was a weirdo here.

The teachers were even weirder. But they were accepting, so that was a bonus. You still hated the school though.

Most of the time, instead of going to class, you’d skip out and hide in the woods. Obeying your animal instincts begging you to run and jump and play and be feral. You’d always be found eventually, but it was fun while it lasted.

Today, you’re deeper in than you’ve ever been before. You’re stalking through the forest, reveling in the scent of the trees and the leaves and the grass. Basking in the wind and the sun and the fresh air.

You can feel the tug at your mind. The telltale voice murmuring it’s time to return. You hate the Professor for it. The way he so easily invades your mind. It’s why he never comes himself.

You, of course, ignore the call. Instead, you head deeper into the woods, following the sound of a nearby stream. It’ll be a couple hours at least before any of the usual teachers find you. More than enough time for a play break.

But it’s barely any time before a new scent filters through from upwind. Musky and thick, like cigars and engine grease. You tense, tail swishing uneasily.

It doesn’t smell like a hunter, but it also doesn’t smell like any of the teachers you know. You crouch, instinct making you press back and hide behind a tree. You go still, watching. Waiting.

The sound of footsteps approaches. They sound lighter than you’d expected. Soon the person comes into view.

It’s a man. Bulky and rugged, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. Smoking a cigar in the middle of the woods.

Maybe it’s his stance. Or the undertones of his scent, woodsy and soapy. Or maybe it’s the way he scans the area, clearly looking for you. As if he knows what he’s doing.

But he’s certainly different than the other teachers and something within you knows it. There’s a familiar sense to him. A predator instinct, just like yours. You decide you like him.

“Come on, kid. Professor wants you back.“

Yeah, you definitely like him. He sounds almost bored, but you can catch the note of sympathy in his tone. Somehow you know he knows you want to be out here. Maybe he does too.

With a sigh, you step out from behind your tree. Trudging up to him with your tail drooped and ears flattened. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

He studies you for a moment before nodding. “You’re good at running. That’s good. You’ll need to be.”

You blink. Tilt your head a little. You’ve only ever been told that your tendency to run is a problem. His words send a flood of pride through you.

Your ears unflatten and your tail sways a bit. You grin and show off your sharp teeth. A little more aggressive than needed, but you think he understands. You’re not some helpless human. Even young, you’re smart and full of fire.

For a moment, he seems to eye you with a bit of respect. Then he turns away. “Come on. It’s almost dinner time.”

He sets off at a quick pace and you follow easily. Yeah, you really like him. Anyone else would go slow or tell you to keep up. He’s different.

And you’re definitely adopting him into your pack. He’s given you a bite of praise and you want more. Whether he likes it or not, you’re his problem now.

No matter what anyone else says.

Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss

[globalrebrand]

i love all ur depictions of vil and i’m so happy u took a liking to lyney who’s also my fav ❤️ ur toxic vil in particular haunts my brain, lives in my floorboards and echoes in the halls of my mind at night….so may i humbly please request “forcing them to divulge past traumas or secrets” with vil? 🥹

Warnings: Dead dove, do not eat. Mentions of past sexual assault, nonconsensual age gap relationship.

Vil had been quiet since you'd left the party.

This wasn't unlike him. At the end of a long night of socializing, he generally preferred to hold your hand or, even better, sit with you tucked against his side in the back of his car while his driver navigated you both to his penthouse.

But tonight, the gap between the middle seat felt like an unbridgeable canyon stretched between the two of you.

It was his father's 50th birthday celebration held at the family home. The Shaftlands elite came out in droves to celebrate the beloved Eric Venue.

The night started well enough. Vil was more than happy to introduce you to his wider circle of famous friends and loved ones. As an up-and-coming model with a promising career (even more so with Vil proudly claiming you as his), your agent wouldn't let you forget how this was a rare opportunity to expand your network, but you weren't here for any of that. Tonight, all you wanted to do was support your boyfriend and his father at this critical milestone.

Vil made the rounds with you, introducing you to well known actors, actresses, veteran supermodels, producers and directors all gathered to celebrate his father.

You and Vil were in fragile territory as a couple. If you were able to successfully demonstrate that you could be one of them, an elite, a star, then you and Vil were looking at a future as one of the foremost power couples in the industry.

Thankfully, things were going splendidly; you spoke at the correct times and came off as appropriately humble and down to earth as an outsider in such an elite group. You took great pride in how Vil beamed as he watched you gracefully interact with these other celebrities, your natural charisma on full display. It was hard to get any higher off the fumes of his affection, then he paused, observing you with a tender look and petting the apple of your cheek with a smooth thumb before quietly admitting, "I'm so happy I have you."

That was until you ran into him.

"There's one more person I want you to meet," Vil said warmly, urging you away from your current conversation to meet a distinguished-looking white-haired gentleman.

"Uncle Valle, this is my girlfriend." Vil beamed but the director had a sickening look on his face, ignoring his nephew and addressing you with far too much familiarity.

"Long time no see." You froze. Valle Mensing is a world-famous director and a man you'd desperately hoped never to see again.

"Uh- I think you're mistaken. It's nice to meet you." You avoided eye contact, suddenly finding your shoes interesting, was you felt Vil bore daggers into the side of your head.

The older man raises an eyebrow in slight disbelief.

"Hmmm, you're right my mistake." Thankfully Valle just patted Vil on the back mentioning, "lovely girl you got there, take good care of her."

Vil grabbed your hand and tugged you close to whisper in your ear.

"What was that?" You wouldn't do this now, couldn't.

"Vil, I feel a little sick. I'm going to step out into the garden. If you'll excuse me," you excused yourself, leaving Vil absolutely baffled and more than definitely ensuring that he was suspicious of your interaction with his beloved uncle.

You had no idea they were so close, and now you were scared. You prayed Vil would just let it alone, as unlikely as it would be, but you didn't want to make him choose. Rather, you didn't want to be rejected by him in favor of his dastardly uncle.

You both left shortly after. Vil's mood was considerably soured, and a paranoid expression became etched into your features.

Now, it has been about 20 minutes of driving, and still, no word has passed between you.

Uncertain of what to anticipate, you needed to at least confirm where Vil would be dropping you off tonight. You had a sinking suspicion that your behavior tonight didn't earn you the privilege to share his bed.

"Are you dropping me off or-" You're quickly interrupted.

"What relationship do you have with my uncle?" Vil turned to look at you, his eyes already brimming with judgment.

The impulse to lie was so strong. You'd done it for so long. You knew Vil would likely see right through it, but you had to try. Try to protect yourself and him from the truth. It was only when you were with Vil that you felt as if you had any worth. If he knew your past, what had actually transpired between you and his uncle, you're certain he would no longer want you.

And then, who would you be?

"I don't have any-" You started, but as you suspect, you were cut off almost immediately.

"Why did he say 'long time no see?'" Vil questioned, leering over you with a raised brow. "Don't play dumb. It's unbecoming." He scolded, a coldness in his eyes but an unmistakable look of morbid curiosity. Vil likely already suspected what you would reveal to him, but he wanted to hear it from your lips and force you to bear the most vulnerable parts of yourself to him.

"Vil I-"

"I saw you speak to him in the garden. What were you speaking about."

"It was a long time ago." Your face was hot, and your voice pinched and weary. Tears threatening to spill at any moment.

Vil sighed, exasperated and desperate for the truth. It was obvious he was done waiting for you to confess in earnest.

"Did you fuck him?" The words struck you like a blade to the chest.

"Please, I-" You wanted to retreat and hide, but there was no cover from Vil's relentless barrage of questions and accusations in the backseat.

"Did you or did you not. If you don't tell me now, we're finished."

A long silence passed between you as you tried to form the words in your mouth.

"Yes." The words come out cracked and dry. A horrible truth you didn't want to deny. The tears had started falling now, hysterical sobs wracking your entire body. You prayed the driver had the decency not to spare you a glance.

"Did he force you?" Vil questioned. Less angry, but not even remotely comforting.

"It doesn't matter, please. I just want to live in the now with you!"

"He did, didn't he. He raped you?" You tried to verbalize to say yes, he did...many times, but all you could do was nod wordlessly.

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened tonight."

"H-he asked me why I didn't tell you about our relationship. And I said because it's not something I'm proud of." Calming yourself with stuttering breaths, you admit, "Vil, I'm not lying when I say it is my greatest shame."

"Why don't people know about this?" He's angry. Hurt.

"Because...I wasn't exactly of age at the time." Vil startles, like you've smacked him.

Quietly, as asked, "How old were you?"

"15."

He curses in his native tongue, looking angry and disgusted.

"My agency lied about my age to get me into the country." You went on to explain.

I didn't want to, but they said the connection would benefit my career, and I didn't know any better.

"I've never told anyone."

At that Vil perked up. A pitying look on his face as he embraced you for the first time since you left the party.

"You should not have been subjected to anything so horrible."

We'll go to my home. I wouldn't want you to be alone after having to face that awful man.

"You won't say anything, right?" You plead. Vil tsks.

My love, he can't be allowed to go free.

Think about all of the other women- No. Girls. He's hurt because of your silence.

You were very courageous in telling me, but I cannot allow you to be silent about this any longer."

Don't worry, darling. No one who hurts will ever be allowed to go unpunished.

You nodded and clung tighter to your boyfriend, grateful that, at least, he didn't seem like he would leave you, but somehow, you weren't comforted by his assertion.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Monkey Queens (and Fem D.O) and a Deadpool reader.

🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

(Lmk Wukong) She thought she was an agent of Chaotic Neutrality but this, this isn't fair. Also your brand of chaos actually scares her and that doesn't happen very often, she can never tell what you're gonna do next but at least you make it fun. The dates you both have together are never boring, and you always put your own twist in the new fun activity. She grew to adore you and your own brand of chaos and wouldn't change you for the world.

(MKR Wukong) Your relationship is gonna look a lot like the recent (Deadpool and Wolverine movie). You drive her to insanity every second of every day. Although she would rather deal with pigsy's flirting, then your Shameless cat calls and s*x jokes. Yes, it is that bad... not to mention that no matter how much she rips you into pieces, you either make an incredibly inappropriate joke or make make noises of well...let's just say you adore her in this state she's in. Although this does end up being useful, when she having angry tantrums and once she knows that you have a love of Violence as well. Oh how happy you both will be.

(NR Wukong) OHHHHHHHHHHHH SH*T THE AMOUNT OF S*X JOKES AND INNUENDOES YOU BOTH WOULD SAY, ARE GONNA MAKE EVERYBODY WANT TO EITHER BLUSH, HURL, OR COVER THEIR EARS IN HORROR!!!!!!!!🤣🤣🤣🤣 you guys are a terrible influence on each other but your relationship also kinda makes sense. You both are constantly making jokes and acting like clowns the entire fight, no match how dire the situation is. You also know when to get serious together and get the job done quite alot, and with the money you make you love to spoil her with jewelry and dress. In other words you both are perfect for each other, and are gonna make it everybody's problem.

(HIB Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh god, and she thought pigsy was awful to deal with when he flirts. Boi, you has Shamelessly cat called and flirted with her whenever she was alone, our came around you area. Wukong would lose her patience with you a lot but like everyone else in her life, you grew on her because you refuse to leave her alone. You also get along very well with her kids becoming the fun father figure and playing games and doing tricks. Wukong for once smiled at you. As you never seem to let anything get you down, and always offer support.

(Netflix Wukong)(Does anyone remember Bliz and Stolis's phonecall???🤭🤭🤭) Well that was the equivalent of the first meeting with you and Wukong. She was cool with you and bragged about her achievements and beauty and when you got interested in her, and you just haaaaaaadddddd to open you mouth🙄🙄🙄. You opened to flirt with her and said who lot of rancy, depraved, and blunt with a smile and blush on your face. At the end Wukong had a huge Blush on her face with a light look of horror on her face. Despite her getting interested in you and had accidentally been turned on by your brazen offer and Unfiltered thoughts. She now wondered if she being mildly harassed😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳.

(BMW Wukong) She can never reach your level of unpredictability never in a million centuries. She would be quite jealous considering she never knows what you're gonna do, nor will she never know what you're talking about. Have the time. Though once you both get in sync with each other and find that you both have alot more in common then you think well, heaven is gonna look a lot like hell for now on once you both work together. Their's also gonna be Instances where she's Frenching decapitated head.

(Destined one) You would have her blushing constantly, and so harshly, it's coming out of her fur. Your Chaotic personality is one thing to deal with considering the situations she'll find herself in,but........................... it's your thoughts and mouth that Always kill her!!!!!!!!!Your pick-up lines, constant flirting, and naughty hand gestures are what shock her to her core and cause her to freeze and blush harshly. You can't possibly mean that, right? But then she finds out that's how you're telling her that your interest in her and want her as a mate. The Destined one would not survive you and your Chaotic motor mouth, and something tell her, that's probably not the worst thing you'll ever say

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[jbaileyfansite]

Vanity Fair Interview for the Hollywood Issue (2024)

In the last 13 months or so, Jonathan Bailey has carried on a secret gay love affair in McCarthy-era Washington, performed cunnilingus in a Regency England manor, rendered teenage boys speechless with a pop-philosophy lecture, and danced through life in a prince’s bedazzled breeches. This coming summer, he’s fleeing dinosaurs.

That would be in, respectively: Fellow Travelers, Bridgerton, Heartstopper, Wicked, and Jurassic World Rebirth. But even if he’s just pretended to do all those things, it’s understandable why Bailey is, right now, pinking his nose at a villa in Puglia.

“It is just so dreamy to be able to chill out,” he says via Zoom. “The cortisol levels have depleted.”

Playing Fiyero in Wicked was a dream come true for Bailey, who at one point in our conversation fantasizes about going to a Broadway rave with his castmates—he refers to Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo as simply “the girls”—and dancing to techno remixes of Wicked tracks, like “Defying Gravity,” under pulsating green lasers.

After filming the two-part movie with the girls, he’s nabbed an Emmy nod for Fellow Travelers and started a charity, the Shameless Fund, to uplift the LGBTQ+ community he’s proud to be a part of.

We’re thrilled to have Bailey as part of our 2025 Hollywood Issue. Here, he shares his thoughts on being a change agent in Hollywood, how he chooses roles, and the secret talent that he wishes he’d kept a secret.

Vanity Fair: What a run! How are you feeling?

Jonathan Bailey: I’m very much enjoying my holiday. But the girls started rehearsing Wicked, what, two and a half years ago? I think people assume that I haven’t had any breaks, but I have. Also, we had the strike right in the middle. What was crazy is going from Fellow Travelers to Wicked, just insane.

The Wicked movie is so close to the stage show that if you’re a big fan, you’re not going to be like, “Well, I can’t believe they…” It hews so closely, how could you complain there? But that flip. Are you a secret tumbler?

I remember I’d flown back from Canada and then I was filming Bridgerton. I met the girls then, and they were well and truly underway. I remember going to the dressing rooms, and theirs were pink and green and were just spilling into the hallway. And mine was just an interrogation room with nothing.

But I did spend the whole day with [choreographer] Chris Scott and went from Chris Scott to see [musical writer] Stephen Schwartz, and it was just, for me, boot camp days. You just lean on the amazing choreographers and obviously [director] Jon M. Chu’s vision. So when it came to the beginning of “Dancing Through Life,” I felt like it had to be sort of a flair and sort of performative, but hopefully in a way that was just with abandon and not arrogance. I did gymnastics growing up and I did dancing. I was the only boy within a whatever-mile radius. And because I was a boy and I was dancing, whenever the Royal Shakespeare Company wanted to cast someone, they called. It was dancing that got me into acting. And in dance school—not school, but a hobby club—they had acrobatics, which I was obsessed with. So I had, and still do have, a very bendy back, as shown in Wicked.

I’m a big fan of Heartstopper, the books and then the show; I loved the comic. Was that something that you sought out, or they were like, “Hey, we need someone who’s so handsome that he sends multiple people into a crisis”?

I sort of wedged myself into that part. I was so moved by the series and also the graphic novel.

And, of course, doing Bridgerton—it’s funny what comes with doing a lot of press, and suddenly there’s a lot that people want to know about you, and there’s a lot that’s asked of you that, obviously, in any other industry, you wouldn’t have to talk about. So I was hyperaware of the complexities and nuances of how I felt about myself being a gay man, let alone a gay actor, and suddenly finding success in playing a straight part and talking about that. Heartstopper seems to allow people to feel catharsis and to feel a sort of melancholic sort of nostalgia for what could have been. I was feeling all of those things anyway. And [executive producer] Patrick Walters is really good friends with Josh Cole, who produced Crashing, so it is all a bit of a small world.

I love the cast. I think they’re brilliant. I remember seeing all of them speak to their own experiences and being like, My God, they’re so erudite and grounded and thoughtful and kind and compassionate in their answers. I would be really proud of myself if I could be a part of that as my younger self. Everyone above the age of 40 should be forced to watch it.

Do you think that Hollywood is more open to risk than it used to be? So many of these projects wouldn’t have existed 10 years ago.

Yeah. And with huge budgets and [the] trusting of Universal and Donna Langley and Peter Cramer, obviously they just got the right people, with Marc Platt, and they took their time. That’s the common denominator between these things: Fellow Travelers took 10 years to percolate and run its way in his genius, genial brain, and then four years to commission. Wicked, I think they’ve been trying to make a film of it for over 10 years. With Jurassic as well, this time they’re going back to David Koepp, the original writer of the original film, and Gareth [Edwards] is shooting on film.

I’m going to crack on with the work and I’m just incredibly excited for opportunities. I do think that as long as the work is good, anyone should be able to do the job. And I think that’s what’s changed. I obviously did not imagine myself in this sort of career, so that must be a sign of progress.

Do you get recognized out and about a lot? You’re in all these properties now that have such intense fan bases.

It’s funny—obviously, you do get recognized, but the Bridgerton of it all is really interesting, because it’s one thing to be on a show that is national, but I feel like I was more recognized outside of the UK than in the UK. It takes time to adjust to, it really does. It’s not an easy thing, but it also is amazing.

Do you have any secret talents? You already said that flipping is your party trick.

Yeah, I think that, and I was going to say dexterous toes…

What do you do with them?

…. but I would regret that, so I didn’t say it.

But then you did. What can you do with them that makes you so sure they’re dexterous?

Nothing about this goes well...I just remember entertaining my sisters by being able to pick things up with my toes, but like a monkey. But we probably don’t need to put that in writing.

Physical therapists, I’m sure, hail you.

I did ballet for ages, and I’ve only as an adult found out I’ve got very flat feet. Doing Fiyero, I learned that. And the physio one day walked in because my knees were twanging, and across the room he went, “You got flat feet.”

Your big secret: flat feet.

Yeah, that’s my party trick as well.

Revealed. Do you consider yourself to be a rule follower or a rule breaker? Are you afraid of getting in trouble?

I’m not a rule breaker, I just don’t really adhere. Do you know what I mean? If someone says, don’t do that, I won’t not do it. Probably people would always have said I was probably quite naughty.

You have a philanthropy, the Shameless Fund. Can you tell me about what inspired you to start that?

I’ve always found it is impossible to talk about this without sounding like an asshole, but it’s something that I do think about: opportunities for other people. And I also see where there’s an abundance of energy, whether that be money or creative, that could be siphoned off into other areas.

With the Shameless Fund particularly, there were certain commercial opportunities that were coming my way that I just wasn’t interested in because they just didn’t feel right, or I didn’t want to be stepping into [them]. I’m hoping next year we’re going to start giving out grants, in 2025.

Whom will the grants be going to?

Well, we’ve got three that we are certain on, nonprofits and charities that work internationally and locally in the UK for areas of the LGBT+ community, to educate and elevate. Hopefully, we’ll get to a point where we can offer smaller nonprofits a platform.

The three weeks after Bridgerton came out, there were so many requests from charities that I found it so upsetting and distressing because I wanted to do all of them. “Can you come to this thing, or can you speak, or can you send a shoe, or could you send a bag? Could you sign a script?” So this is also a way where you can work with multiple groups, become a bit of a patron.

Is there anyone who you feel reached back and helped you along in your career too?

Theater directors massively. Ian McKellen was wildly amazing, and I did King Lear with him. He was one of the first people to come to see me when I did Cock on the West End, and we went for a drink afterwards. He was so clear about how it might play out, and should it play out that way, what to be excited about and what to be aware of. I couldn’t wish for a better role model.

Source

[theoneandonlysemla]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by: @skyrim-forever @hircines-hunter @dirty-bosmer

Tagging: @did3lphis @tiredela @ladytanithia @thequeenofthewinter @elavoria

Let's go girls! Okay, maybe not so much. I'm damn tired, my brain is goo due to migraines on Sunday, Monday and today so... Hate that for me. I will write some Nevri x Morotar Hurt/Comfort but at the moment that is still all in my head. Instead, I'm going with a snipped from next weekend's new DwD II chapter! Ancano is, as always, an ass (ugh, I love him). Also under the cut because of spoilers.

A knock sounded. Ghash narrowed his eyes and stared unblinking at the door. Nevri sat rooted to her chair. Who wanted anything from her in the evening? Granted, it wasn't too late, so the visit wasn't rude, but it was certainly unusual. Maybe it's Colette, she thought and got up from her chair. Another knock followed. Nevri turned the key in the lock, pressed the handle and took a step backwards and stumbled back another. The Thalmor stood in front of her door, his face expressionless and his hands clasped behind his back. He looked different as he had taken off his long, pitch-black coat with the gold trim. Underneath was a dark purple tunic, as Nevri now realised. He had rolled up his sleeves, exposing sinewy forearms.

“Ah, you’re still awake. May I come in?” he asked, his tone as monotone as his countenance.

“What do you want?” Nevri immediately blurted out. Anxiety pressed on her stomach and made it queasy.  

“I just wanted to enquire about you.” The corners of his mouth lifted into something resembling a smile. But it didn't inspire confidence in Nevri. “Since I was involved in your rescue, it is my duty to look after you.”

“So, you've been looking after me. I'm standing upright. Is that it?” she said. Had he really been there? She did not remember him in the slightest. Only how she had been spewing water from her lungs and that the pale Altmer had been far too close to her.    

“Is that it?” he mimicked and made a step towards her, entering the room. “A little more gratitude might be in order.”

“How I remember it, you weren’t the one to pull me out of the ocean. Nor carry me to Colette,” she spat, but made another step back, the back of her knee hit her bedframe. Ghash sat next to her, his tail whipping.

Ancano closed the door behind him, then inspected her chamber with a look of depreciation. Everything in here seemed to displease him, but so did the whole college. In the one week that Nevri had been here, she had heard his lamenting often enough.         He stopped by her desk, his slender, golden fingers gliding over the two letters, keen eyes scanning them. A barely visible crease formed between his eyebrows as he read the second letter. Nevri bit on the inside of her cheek and thanked herself, that she had only written vague suggestions of the matters. He looked up, fixed his citrine gaze on her, staring her into the ground. Rarely had she encountered such a penetrating glare; only one other pair of eyes had had such a devastating effect on her. But that had been azure.

“To answer your question, yes, I have not been the one to recue you from the sea. My fellow agent had that honour, even though I deemed it hopeless.” His tone had become as sharp as his features, cutting like the keen edge of a blade. “A fall from such height, it's almost a miracle that you're standing in front of me.”

“It was pure luck,” Nevri answered quickly, maybe a little too quickly to not to raise suspicion. “And fast help. I would have drowned without it.”

Ancano took a few more steps towards her, stood right in front of her. He was not much taller than her, but he knew how to make himself look towering. A hint of lemon reached her nose, accompanied with pine needles. Under other circumstances, she would have described it as pleasant, but right now Nevri felt like she was shrinking under his scrutinizing gaze.

“I’ve seen people fall in similar conditions.” He paused, observing every movement in her face. “I have thrown people from comparable heights. It is a death sentence. No matter if there is stone, sand or water beneath them. The impact should have killed you, Dunmer.”

[pluckyredhead]

You have been posting intriguing things about Big Bad Wolf, and I always love a rec, especially when I'm having a rough year for books! If you care to, I'd love to hear what draws you to the books.

Ahhhh I'm obsessed with them!

Okay so Big Bad Wolf by Charlie Adhara is a series of five M/M paranormal romance procedurals, all about the same couple, Cooper and Park, and the first book is The Wolf at the Door.

Basically, Cooper Dayton is an FBI agent who right before the series begins is nearly killed by a werewolf, and that's how he learns that werewolves are real. So he gets transferred to the super secret werewolf division of the FBI (the BIA), and in the first book he's assigned to catch what appears to be a werewolf serial killer with a werewolf agent named Oliver Park. Full "oh no he's hot!!!" reaction goes here. Cooper is very very very bad at relying on anyone else or needing help but he and Park eventually figure out how to work together and also hook up a bunch of times before they eventually catch the serial killer. The rest of the series follows the development of their relationship as they solve various other werewolf-related murders.

I read the entire series in less than two weeks and it only took that long because once I got to the last book I drew it out because I didn't want it to be over that fast. And then I reread them all immediately.

Anyway! You wanted to know why I like them:

THE ROMANCE. I am not usually an established relationship gal but watching these two grow as individuals and as a couple is so rewarding. They both have significant issues (the first couple of books make it seem like Cooper's a mess and Park is perfect, but that's just because Park is very good at masking - he is actually even more of a mess than Cooper), but they grow so much as the series goes along. The conversations they have about their issues and their relationship in Book 4 are 100% not conversations they could have had in Book 2. It helps that they are both in their mid- to late-30s and like, they know who they are, and they are working very very hard to be better for each other. I'M SO PROUD OF THEM.

This is still on the romance part, but: also they genuinely LIKE each other. Like in Book 4 they have to go undercover at a couples' counseling retreat (for werewolves, obviously) and I'm like "How does anyone here think you guys are having relationship issues. You are BEST FRIENDS. Disgusting."

I specified that they are also procedurals because they are genuinely good mysteries! Sometimes when books combine genres it's sort of half romance and half mystery and not enough of either to be satisfying. These are ALL romance but they are also ALL mystery and Cooper is a very good detective. (Park is a pretty good detective but mostly he's great at biting people.)

They are extremely funny. Again, they like each other so much and this most often manifests in literally constant A+ banter. You know how I feel about banter!

The sex scenes are...chef's kiss. It's like Adhara was running down a list of my favorite tropes.

Anyway I HIGHLY recommend them and if you read them please come sit by me so we can talk about them thank you!!!

[yanderes-galore]

Hello, can I have a blackwatch reaper concept

Sure! It's good for me to separate him and Reaper since I think they act differently.

Yandere! Blackwatch! Gabriel Reyes Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Blood, Violence, Kidnapping, Stalking, Jealousy, Love bites, Brief mentions of murder, Forced relationship.

Even Gabriel now was used to the shadows.

While Jack Morrison took control of Overwatch and acted as a hero, Gabriel Reyes was left to do undercover missions in Blackwatch.

Gabriel is said to have been an understandable person with a headstrong nature.

He cares for those under him yet was always cynical when it came to Overwatch.

Supposedly he was jealous of Jack who had all the spotlight.

Regardless, for a little while at least, he accepted his role as assassin and spy.

Under his command he has Cole Cassidy, Genji Shimada, and Moira.

Those were the ones primarily under his care.

I feel Gabriel Reyes is less... intimidating than Reaper.

He's said to be more casual with those he enjoys.

Which makes me think he'd try more to be involved in his obsession's life.

When in reality, he's a killer and you never knew it.

I like to think Blackwatch agents had their own life outside of what they do.

Like to put up a front?

Maybe not all of them did... but I do think Gabriel did.

It might go against canon, but it's a neat idea to think about.

Imagine you met Gabriel one day and befriended him.

He's no doubt more friendly during this time than he is as Reaper later on.

While Reaper as a yandere tends to lurk and stalk like a bad omen...

Gabriel Reyes has a better chance of being part of your life.

He's secretive about his past and line of work.

He'd often make up some lie or bend the truth a bit when you ask.

Despite this, he acts as a friend and soon maybe a potential partner for you.

He's more talkative and casual, making jokes or even playfully flirting.

I like to think Reyes is a charmer before becoming Reaper.

More manipulative, too.

He acts all social and invested in you whenever he's free...

Then goes back to his job of keeping Omnics and political figures in check.

He's living a double life when it comes to you.

While he's a leader and supposed member of 'Overwatch' with you...

He's actually an assassin who has gotten blood on his hands more times than he can count.

Although since he's doing this double life, it means you'll trust him more.

Which means when his obsession gets worse, he can probably get away with stalking you or lingering in the shadows around you.

Yes, he still has that habit even before he's Reaper.

It's just as Reaper, that's his only chance of being close to you.

As Reyes?

Well now he can always be involved.

Gabriel no doubt knows him pursuing you can be dangerous.

He has a dangerous job and is acutely aware of how dangerous his feelings are.

He's used to his violent nature due to his job.

Yet he also notes how he tenses when he sees you with other men.

He knows you should just be friends...

But eventually I can see him asking you out to drinks or something.

Then you start dating purely out of curiosity.

Gabriel has a better chance of actually having you to himself.

While Reaper is forced to shadow you to satiate himself.

Gabriel Reyes is capable of actually being your lover while he gives into darker desires.

You're probably blind to his true nature.

With you he's loving and affectionate, greeting you with kisses and often visiting your apartment.

Yet when you think he's away... He's closer than you think.

Gabriel keeps a close eye on you in between missions.

He only ever pulls his guns on those who need it...

But there's been times he's thought of doing it due to jealousy.

He may also vent his possessive behavior through his actions with you.

He could cuddle you in your apartment, listening to your day.

Yet if you bring up a coworker or something Overwatch related...

His grip tightens.

That or maybe you two are getting a bit... intimate as he kisses you.

You don't even have to mention something sometimes... There's times he'll just feel the need to vent his jealousy...

Which makes him nip your skin a bit harshly, wanting to see it bruise.

There's times his love is intense, yes.

But it's mostly normal in your eyes.

You have no clue that he stalks, spies, and kills people....

No, you don't think Gabriel Reyes is a monster until he rises from the dead.

When the explosion at Overwatch's headquarters occurs, you think your lover died.

As far as you know, your boyfriend is dead...

You never stopped crying.

You end up trying to recover from his death for months.

Yet at some point, Gabriel is around, watching you mourn.

You don't see Gabriel as a monster until he breaks into your home like a wraith, a death mask covering his features.

Even then you're thankful for the mask, as he smells of death as he stalks about your home.

You scream, begging to know who he is.

Only for him to remove the mask...

Making you feel sick.

Normally people would be happy to see their beloved alive again.

Not you.

He looks like a corpse to you...

His voice is now distorted, rotten as he encourages you to embrace him.

He tells you he wants you to come with him, that he's still your Reyes.

But he's not, not to you.

He's a monster, not your boyfriend.

When you refuse... He takes you by force.

He wrangles you into his grasp before sneaking off into the darkness.

When you try to scream... He covers your mouth.

This is no longer Reyes.

This is Reaper.

He's an omen of death that has always kept track of you since Moira revived him.

By this point, manipulation isn't needed.

He already knows he's a monster, one you no longer love.

But you're all he has left now... You're meant to be his...

He won't let anyone else have you, even now.

[kalpasio]

kalpas owns at least a 2 of those ‘kiss the cook’ aprons I feel it in my bones (I feel like he would grumble for the rest of the day if he was wearing one and you didn’t kiss the cook) (make this canon please mihoyo ik I’m right) -babygirl kalpas anon

no you're so right!!!!! definitely has like a stack of the same "kiss the cook" apron because he keeps burning them and theyre cheaper to get in a 10 pack for some reason and griseo has stolen one for herself that's covered in paint

oh my gosh you'd have to like BOOK IT out of the kitchen if you wanted to avoid kissing him. he just stands there staring you down until you do as the apron says and he 100000% has spent the entire day throwing dirty looks when you just grabbed a poptart and only gave his very floofy hair a pat before leaving. if you don't give him a kiss when he's making dinner, he's not taking the apron off until you do. can and will wear it for the rest of the day. and sleep in it. and if you don't kiss him for the whole day?

first of all, you are stronger than me lol. he's definitely gone from silent brooding pouting to "if anyone comes near me I'm setting this place on fire" and you have to make a very brave sacrifice for the rest of the base and give him a kiss. probably several. he will keep making snacks and wearing the apron until you've paid off your debt

[st4zia]

Marina, where are you?

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[hauntingblue]

WATER SEVEN BABYYYYY

Look at robin reacting when luffy says he wont give her up.... 🥺🥺

This is a joke right now but its actually a one piece tenet aldjsisjka

Usopp aksbaksjakqk the foreshadow is foreshadowing... Also Robin being happy with the crew after the Aokiji incident... Fuck!!!!

Sanji thinking robin just vanished or flew away and suddenly usopp is soaring thru the skies... imagine

AAAAARGGGGHHHH YOU CAN SEE THE GEARS TURNING

Zoro talking to merry..... only while he is alone of course

Why are nami and sanji matching ajdhakjsk look at the citrus sisters

Carpenter: maybe it was the government

Gov agent: I don't think so, also don't say that they are everywhere

LUFFY SUPPORTS WOMEN'S WRONGS!!!

Don't scream att chopper like that!!! Look at him... So small....

Imu tease???? (No) (Also I've changed websites again bc the translation is kinda off , I can't find a good quality b&w spanish translation and the colors scare me (i want the real manga experience))

GET HIM ICEBURG!!!!

I truly forgor if this is just a lie about her wanting to find the rio poneglyphs or genuine because she wants to die and will do it for them... because in skypiea she says she is not interested in the weapons so maybe if the gov pardons her but considering what she wants is illegal then idk abdjabjs this is such a dumb thing to forget... like thats important girl where did it go (reading this after remembering and it's kinda funny... i will make any sacrifice to kill myself (and keep you safe)... she goes HARD)

Little paulie and mozu and kiwi.... omg hello (the SBS says the twins wanted to be shipwrights too omg)

Franky's backstory is small but it does so much for me like it is so central to the themes... boats and people...

DID SOMEBODY ORDER MORE TRAGIC BROTHERS?

The fact that franky needs to learn this lesson to pass it on to robin.... do you understand how big this is.... also Tom does exactly as he says and takes responsibility for franky and what he has done... because he has done nothing wrong AND THAT'S HIS SON and he just punched spandam bc he wanta him to feel the pain franky feels... Tom is such a man..... proud of having built eater 7 up with the sea train.... goes out with a boom.... should we all kill ourselves....

I am crying again................... franky my god.... and the fucking frog!!! And of course franky can't stop Tom's hope for his island... of course he can't.... he hasnt learnt the lesson yet but this guy isn't over yet!! He has a life of being a pervert cyborg ahead!!! Iceburg following Tom's footsteps but franky not being able to do that bc of his guilt....

This is one of the coolest things chopper has done btw...

NAMII 😭😭😭

Robin damning the world for her crew when all she has ever done is damn her companions for her own sake.... how big is this...

I can't take this...... it's always nami in these positions... it happens AGAIN in Zou with Sanji... there is no way

The love letter gag is too good like damn that's so funny

AND IT'S NAMI GOING THROUGH IT AGAIN!!!! SHE LOVES ROBIN SO MUCH!!!!

[tiredassmage]

what type of villain are you?

your honor, i do love a good uquiz diagnosing the diseases and problems of my fictional characters and also i might be slightly procrastinating a final paper. saw this one from @sasslett and simply could not resist :3 quiz link! for those who'd like.

swtor edition first!

tyr deckard - then let me be evil

You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? YOU'LL GIVE THEM A MONSTER!

alucren ellery - the betrayer

You like to do things up close and personal. As personal as you can get. You are an excellent actor, and you do adore putting on a smile knowing your worst enemy, the one you hate the most, doesn't suspect a thing when they tell you their deepest secrets. Your only motivation is revenge, and revenge you shall get. Perhaps you loved them once, long ago, but any fondness for your target you once felt has long since warped and twisted into perverse obsession, laced with malice and venom and seething hatred. Good or evil does not matter to you. All that matters is they get what they deserve.

leo ashold - the coward

You didn't have another choice, honest! Have these people SEEN what the heroes are up against? It'd end you in an instant, whether that be a lovecraftian abomination with a hold on your soul, a rampaging monster that's destroying more than a hurricane and an earthquake could in one fell swoop, a shadow organization that has tabs on everyone you love and will end them in an instant, or just a particularly grumpy boss that might yell at you if you don't fall in with his excessively tyrannical methods, you can't go risking your neck for the poor saps that think they can stop it. No way, you're staying on the bad guy side, where it's SAFE.

rhyst delavast - for the greater good

Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.

savosta - no moral compass

You are cold, analytical, and you strive to be as objective as a person of flesh and blood can be. Either don't understand the concepts of good and evil, or you understand it perfectly and think it's a load of bull. Some may call you selfish, some may call you unfeeling, but you're just doing what you believe will yield the best results, plain and simple. Why bother with petty ideals of right or wrong when you can do what will actively help those you give a fuck about? Your goals may be selfish or noble or anything in between, but you will not let anyone make you feel like garbage for going after them. You couldn't care less about what people brand you as. You just care about getting shit done by any means necessary.

[cerbreus]

baking never feels more like science to me than when i'm trying to cobble together an intricate multi step recipe together from several different recipes and tutorials online because the recipe I'm imagining doesn't exist....