#and i thought that was so cool that i made up a whole team about it

[hgfictionwriter]

First Impressions

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Varsity athletes are all the same. They aren't interested in a real relationship or connection. And Jessie Fleming - you've heard about her - she's no exception. But maybe, just maybe, first impressions aren't everything.

Warnings: Suggestive language, but nothing overly explicit.

A/N: I've gotten a few requests for frat boy Jessie. This is my version of that. Out of character (OOC) Jessie. From my perspective anyway lol. But hopefully it’s entertaining!

“Oh, sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You retracted your hand after reaching for a bottle of liquor at the same time as someone else and they did the same.

“Go ahead,” you offered with a nod to the bottle and the girl offered you a smile in return.

“Thanks. Here - I’ll make you your drink. What were you wanting?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll make mine after,” you dismissed as you stepped back.

The girl gave you a teasing frown before giving you a quick once over that caused you to avert your gaze and cross your arms. She chuckled.

“Please. Let me make you a drink. It’s the least I can do for accidentally cutting in line,” she offered once more.

While you’d felt neutral about the whole exchange initially, now you felt irritation starting to brim. Between this brunette’s charming smile and varsity athletic gear, you really didn’t need to know more. They were all like this. They were all the same.

Unfortunately, one of your friends was now dating a member of the Bruins soccer team and, despite all odds, you found yourself tip-toeing into this world you'd heard all about and really had no interest in.

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine,” you relinquished flatly with a tired sigh. “Vodka cran.”

“Fancy,” she said simply with a smirk as she turned her back to you and made the drink.

You rolled your eyes once more though she couldn’t see you this time. You mustered up a stiff smile as she turned back around holding out the drink for you.

“Thanks,” you offered plainly and was about to turn to leave when she interjected.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you at one of Teagan’s parties before,” she commented lightly as she began to fix her own drink. “Who’d you come with tonight?”

You arched an eyebrow. “No. First time. And I’m friends with Mel.”

The girl frowned in thought for a moment as she took a sip of her drink. “Oh - [teammate’s] new girlfriend! Got it. Alright, cool. Well, welcome. Teagan’s winter break parties are the best,” she finished with a smile before extending her hand. “I’m Jessie.”

Jessie? Jessie Fleming, likely. So this is the famous captain of the Bruins. She’d heard about her through Mel. And seeing her now, all the stories and rumours made sense.

There she stood before you, smiling sweetly and acting so polite. And with that curly hair, those freckles and those eyes, she seemed perfectly nice, perfectly harmless. But you’d also heard of the girls she’d won over with her innocent charm and left in her wake.

You smirked as you took her hand.

“Y/N.”

She smiled wider, eyes travelling discretely once more and you retracted your hand as you lifted your eyebrows at her.

“Thanks for the drink, Jessie. Have a good night,” you said politely with a smile as you turned on your heel, admittedly enjoying the subtle flash of surprise on her face at your departure.

——————

A new semester started and you sat down in the one of the front rows of a class. You were opening your laptop when someone sat down in the seat next to yours. You paid them no mind until they spoke.

“I thought that might be you.”

A frown of confusion immediately crossed your face as you turned towards the voice.

“Jessie?” You asked, your tone not remotely veiling your surprise. She laughed good naturedly as she pulled out her own laptop.

“So you do remember me. You were in such a rush to leave I thought you’d forgotten our introduction,” she teased with a smile.

You rolled your eyes immediately and huffed. “I was not in a rush. We finished our introductions and that was that.”

“We exchanged names,” she said in mock contemplation before giving you a look. “I suppose that’s an introduction.”

You shrugged lightly returning your attention to the front of the class. “Suppose so.” You heard her snicker as she began prepping for class.

You couldn’t quite help yourself as you spied on the various lecture documents and notebooks she had pulled up.

“I didn’t take you for an environmental studies kind of person,” you said. This time she gave you a frown.

“Why? I wish I could take more of these courses actually,” she countered.

You blushed, feeling a bit foolish now. “I don’t know,” you mumbled as you tried to choose your words carefully. “I guess I’ve just seen, you know, other people, not have much interest in this kind of thing.”

She smirked. “By ‘people’ do you mean jocks? AKA,” she paused to shift in her seat to face you more directly, “elite level athletes who, despite stereotypes, have to maintain a particular academic performance to remain on said teams and can actually be fully developed individuals with interests and passions outside of sports?”

You gave her a withering stare, but hated to acknowledge the way your cheeks burned under her scrutiny.

“I recognize that,” you said pointedly before turning up your nose at her. “But yes. That’s mostly what I meant,” you said facetiously.

To your surprise she laughed, sitting back in her seat once more.

“Well. You’re not entirely wrong. Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason,” she acquiesced mildly. “But I, for one, don’t like being painted that way,” she said, mimicking your tone and demeanour. You had to laugh.

“Touché,” you relented. “So,” you started slowly, finding yourself fidgeting for some reason. “What is your major, then?”

“Materials Engineering,” she responded easily, not even bothering to make eye contact. “And considering a minor in environmental studies if I can make it work.”

“Oh,” you said, taken aback. You didn’t see that one coming.

“And you?” She asked, now looking over.

It took you a beat but you gestured vaguely to the front of the room. “Environmental studies.”

She smiled and gave you a nod before focusing on her screen momentarily. “It’s important work. Do you know what you want to do for a career?”

“Um. Government work - hopefully influencing policy,” you answered somewhat slowly, still processing that you were having this vein of conversation with Jessie. You nearly shook your head as you refocused. “What about you? I mean. I’m guessing you’re going to go pro?”

“That’s the hope,” she said as she turned to you. “But I know I’ll have a life and career after soccer. That’s really important to me. So I’m looking to find something that allows me to help promote sustainability in some way.”

Okay. You really didn’t expect this. The Jessie you’d heard about was not the Jessie you were actively conversing with. You were really having trouble reconciling the two images.

You had another question on the tip of your tongue but the professor began her lecture.

You couldn’t help but notice how attentive Jessie was throughout class and how thorough her notes were. Maybe there really was more to her than all of the team antics.

Still, academically-minded or not, the very real fact is that she was very casual with girls. That was not the kind of situation you wanted to get entangled in. She just wasn't your type.

Class ended and you were about to close your laptop when she reached across and started typing on your computer.

“My number. In case you want to talk about the readings or assignment,” she said simply as she began packing up. She stood and offered you another charming smile. “It was really good to see you again and to get to know you better.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and gave you a wink. “Same time next week? See ya.”

——————

“Hey, want to study together for the mid-term?”

You paused your movements as you turned to Jessie at her question. If she noticed your hesitation, she didn’t acknowledge it and merely continued packing up her things.

“I guess…,” you offered slowly.

You felt conflicted. She’d sat next to you each class and despite yourself you actually found yourself looking forward to seeing her. You didn’t even want to admit it to yourself but you’d started showing up earlier for class in case she did too and you could talk longer. You'd even started walking to your next classes together or grabbing a coffee in between.

This was dangerous territory.

She chuckled and gave you a sidelong glance.

“You don’t have to. I just thought we could.” She crossed her arms as she stood and gave you a smirk. “I was hoping by now I’d proved that I actually have a brain. I was also hoping, heaven forbid, that we might even be friends.”

You clicked your tongue as you stood, giving her a chiding stare. “Study buddies,” you said with a smirk of your own before going on facetiously. “Friends is really pushing it.”

She held up her hands in jest. “My apologies.”

“Yes, let’s study together,” you clarified, giving her a slight nudge with your shoulder and she beamed at you.

“And hey, bonus, practices start up next week. Even practices can be a lot of fun to watch. It’s a good time and we go out after. You should come. Support your new study buddy,” she finished with a grin.

“Mm that’s quite alright,” you said with a playful smirk. “Soccer’s not my thing. As you know.”

Jessie exhaled and placed her hands on her hips. You inadvertently looked away.

“Fine. Don’t come for the full thing. Just join us after. Won't Mel be there?” She asked. You shrugged a shoulder.

"I'm not sure," you replied patiently. "I haven't exactly asked."

She tilted her head as she gave a winning smile. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Yeah?” You asked in jokingly flirtatious matter. “And for how many other girls?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Her expression faltered briefly before she subtly narrowed her eyes, something dawning on her.

“Oh. I see. Well, I can’t say other girls are my study buddy,” she said with a sly grin before dropping it. “No. Seriously. I feel like we’ve had some very good conversations. I-,” she paused, blushing lightly now, “don’t talk to a lot of girls outside of the football world. It’s been really nice and different talking about real matters and serious things. I like it.”

You felt your cheeks heating up and you forced an eye roll while you folded your arms against your chest.

"Yeah, I'll bet," you teased.

"Come on," she coaxed. "Admit it. You like me at least a tiny bit." She tacked on quickly and placatingly, "As a friend."

You chuckled giving your head a light shake. "Sure," you relented as you cracked a crooked smile. "You're alright."

She made a fist a gave a single pump of her arm jokingly with a mouthed "Yes". She offered a playful grin. "I knew it."

"Oh my gosh," you said as you gave her a light shove and you two began to exit the lecture hall. "Now I'm definitely not coming."

----------

"You made it," Jessie said, freshly showered and with a bright smile as you walked down the bleachers to greet her at the sidelines.

"Don't get too carried away," you replied dryly. "I only got here 5 minutes before the final whistle. I didn't exactly see this skillful mastery everyone seems to rave about."

"There'll be lots of other times for that," she replied without missing a beat as she poised an elbow on the barrier and rest her chin in her hand.

"Uh huh," you went on flatly. "That's not presumptuous at all."

"Did you see my freekick goal at the end there?" She asked, again undeterred.

"I don't know what a freekick is, but I saw you score, yes," you went on allowing the faintest smirk as you recalled her waving to you as she jogged over to take the kick. You smirked further. "How many points do you get for a goal?"

Her face dropped and her arms fell to her sides as she looked at you in dismay. "You're just messing with me now." You laughed.

"Maybe. It's kind of fun." She smiled at your comment and you had to stop yourself from smiling too much in return. You cleared your throat and looked away briefly. She was still smiling at you when you looked back.

"Ready to go?"

Your stomach flipped over and over as you two caught up with the rest of the group on the walk over to a nearby bar. You were nervous - she made you nervous. In good ways and bad and you questioned yourself on if you should be here, but yet your feet carried you forward and your eyes found her throughout the night anytime she wasn't next to you.

So much for keeping your distance.

The drinks flowed and though Mel was there and you made a point of not staying too focused on Jessie, you might have to admit you weren't entirely successful.

"Here - and with some water this time, too. You should try to stay hydrated," she said as she returned with another refill for you.

"How thoughtful." You meant to say it sarcastically, but it didn't quite come out that way. She merely winked and took a sip of her drink.

You must be drunk because that stupid wink was enough to disarm you even further. A part of you tried to coach yourself into biting your tongue, but instead you spoke your mind.

"What are you doing?" You asked, spurring a perplexed expression from her. She took another sip.

"What do you mean?"

"What are you doing?" You asked as if it was entirely obvious. "I saw your little fan club at practice. I saw that girl chatting you up at the bar. Why are you here talking to me?" You went on putting on an air of both teasing and indifference.

She arched an eyebrow, holding your gaze and you had to steel yourself to not look away.

"Sounds like you're watching me pretty closely," she relayed with a similar nonchalance and you immediately scoffed.

"Don't deflect. I'm just curious," you said lightly with a shrug and a swig. "Mel's in this world now, so I've heard stories about you, Fleming," you finished as you set down your drink and leaned back, waiting expectantly and rather smugly.

This time Jessie was the one to scoff. "Yeah? Like what."

You didn't flinch or shy away, instead leaning in. "Oh you know, just about the girls you don't text back."

Her freckled cheeks started to turn pink and she broke your gaze momentarily, leaving you feeling vindicated.

She opened her mouth to speak, but paused and shrugged a second later instead.

"I won't lie. Yes...first year here things were a little...eventful. It was my first year away from home, living this new life, a fresh start where I could build whatever personality I wanted. And I had fun with that. But things are less so like that now." She held up her index finger. "And, I need to point out, that I don't make promises. I think I'm pretty clear that things are casual."

You digested her words and eventually gave a nod before taking another measured sip.

"Okay. Fair enough. So casual's all you're into then."

"No," she answered easily with a slight shake of her head. "That's all I was interested in before. There wasn't anyone I wanted to actually date. And, honestly, that's easiest with my schedule. But," she gave a light shrug, "if the right girl came along, I could commit."

You felt a smile forming and tried to hold back a laugh, but failed. She shot you an offended look and you waved in apology.

"Sorry. It's just kind of funny. You 'could' commit. Okay," you snickered a bit more as you took another sip. A hint of regret washed over you at the hurt expression on her face.

"I'm being serious here," she said. "And you asked me why I'm talking to you instead of those other girls. Because. I want to talk to you. I'm interested in you. And 'no' - because I know you're going to make a comment about it - this is not what it was like with the other girls. We've actually talked and I genuinely like you and want to know you better. And for the record - I actually hate studying with other people. I find it distracting and it slows me down, but I respect how smart you are and I love hearing you talk about things you're passionate about and I want to spend more time with you."

The rim of your glass was held poised at your lips as you blinked at her. You abandoned your drink, setting it down on the coaster before leaning forward, folding your arms across the top of your legs.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I hear you," you said, humbled by her declaration and feeling guilty about judging her the way you had.

She gave a quiet sigh and took a sip of her drink.

"It's okay," she went on quietly. "It's not your fault. You didn't create this reputation. I'm sorry," she went on. "That was a bit much."

"No. I'm glad you were honest. Thank you," you corrected her.

You two sat silently together, the din of the busy bar a continuous rumbling around you before you spoke once more.

"I am sorry, Jess. I judged you and I shouldn't have. And I've been holding onto that image of you even though, you're right, our conversations have relayed otherwise," you said.

"Thanks," she said with a soft smile before she turned her attention to her glass, swirling the remainder of her drink. She looked back up after a moment. "And, you know, hopefully we can still be friends. Oh wait," she paused with a teasing eyeroll, "sorry. Study buddies. Totally understand if you're not interested in something more."

You smirked and nudged her knee with yours. "We can be friends," you returned her eyeroll and spoke as though the offer was a great sacrifice. You smiled as she laughed warmly. She drained her drink and held out her hand to you.

"Friends?"

"Friends," you said as you shook her hand. Admittedly, it took you a couple of seconds too long to drop her hold. Your chest warmed as she smiled at you.

"Hey," you went on as you leaned in a touch. "Do you want to get out of here?"

She gave you a blank stare and it took her a beat to reply before she gave a shake of her head. "Yeah. Course. Let's go." She rose from her chair and offered you her hand. You took it.

Conversation was quieter between you two than normal as you walked back towards the dorms, but it was comfortable and easy all things considered. Any tension you were feeling right now was a kind you'd been too afraid to acknowledge previously.

"Your dorm's the other way," you said as Jessie walked past her turn alongside you.

"I know. I'll walk you back to your dorm," she replied easily and gave a nod of her head, urging you to continue walking with her.

Soon enough you were at your door, the two of you facing one another.

"Well, I'm glad you came out tonight," she said with a hint of a smirk. You mirrored it.

"Yeah. Me too," you agreed. "It was nice." A beat passed and you said in a rush, "Hey, are you busy this weekend?"

"Mm, I'm doing a few things with Teags, Mia and the crew, but, yeah, I have time. Did you...have something in mind?"

Your gaze shifted away and you felt your face begin to heat up. "Oh I don't know. I was just thinking if you're bored maybe we could, I don't know. Do something."

A smile grew across Jessie's face and she looked at you unwaveringly despite the way your gaze flit around the hallway.

"I'd love to do something. And not because I'm bored," she chuckled. "Can I take you out to dinner? Or is that too much."

You scratched the back of your neck distractedly, tucking one hand behind your back. "Oh, no, that's fine. Sounds good."

"Okay," Jessie chuckled. "We can go to that Mediterranean place you wanted to check out."

You gave a pointed nod of your head. "Ah. You were listening and paying attention."

"Of course," she laughed. She gave a half smile and held up her index fingers as though something just came to mind. "Oh. And, me and the girls are gonna play a pickup game Sunday morning and grab lunch after. It'd be cool if you came."

"Cool, huh?" You smirked and she rolled her eyes.

"I'd like it if you came," she corrected with a lopsided grin.

You sighed as though the request was a chore. "I suppose I have a few things to learn about soccer. Watching a game might help."

Jessie laughed. "If you think I talk your ear off about engineering and sustainability, just wait 'til you get me talking about soccer."

"Can't wait," you said without your usual sarcasm and with a quiet smile instead.

A beat passed and the tension between you was high. You rose onto the balls of your feet briefly before dropping back down. "Well, good night, then. Thanks for walking me home."

"Happy to," she said.

You pulled each other in for a hug and whether it was the liquid courage or something more, you found your hand weaving through her hair. She held you close and neither of you pulled back right away. And when you did, your cheeks brushed and it was only far enough for you to look at each other, seeking silent approval from one another before you captured her lips in a kiss.

All of your hesitation and careful control went straight out the window and soon your hands were wandering and exploring her body, as were her hands on you. Before you knew it, you were pulling her with you so your back was against the door and your kisses grew heavier and deeper.

Your core pulsed with want and you could feel arousal starting to pool in the fabric of your underwear as you both subtly ground against one another. The one shred of restraint left in you couldn't believe you were honestly contemplating inviting her in. Thankfully, she spared you the rashness as she broke off the kiss, resting her forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

She chuckled with a smile. "Right. I said I was going to go." You bit your lip, your eyes trailing down to her mouth that you were craving more of. She kissed you slow before pulling back.

"We can take our time," she promised and it brought you back to your senses.

"Yeah, of course," you agreed, nodding readily. She took a step back, wishing you a good night.

"Text me to let me know you got back safe," you told her. She gave you a shit-eating grin.

"Aww, you care."

"Don't start with me," you warned her though you both laughed. She snuck a quick peck on the cheek.

"Sweet dreams," she said with a wink as she turned around. You watched her retreating form for a few seconds before calling out.

"On a scale of 1-10, how casual is this?"

She turned around with a smile, placing her hands in her pockets and cocking her head.

"How casual do you want it to be?"

Whether it was 'cool' to say it not, you said, "Not very."

Her smile widened and she gave a nod. "'Kay. I can do that. Legitimately though, I am on the road a lot. Is that okay with you?"

"Depends. Do you fuck around on the road?" You asked easily.

"If I'm committed to you? Then 'no'. Hard to believe based on the stories you've heard, but, context is key. To the people I care about - I'm really loyal. Ask anyone who knows me. They'll tell you," she said.

"'Kay," you said, ignoring how you toed the hallway floor like some silly school girl. "Don't break my trust Fleming and we'll be good."

She winked and began to turn on her heel. "See you in class tomorrow."

A/N: I was going to write this as smut, but it became too long! I definitely have a vision for Part Two (I.e. smut) in this story if there’s interest though.

[flutterclouds]

This was such an awesome chapter, Tesh! I really loved the tense and enigmatic atmosphere of Team Scarlet and Samir’s journey into the mines. The numerous mysterious lantern imprints in the ground contributed so much to the eerieness of the investigation. The Asra arc has been such a treat to read so far. The earthquake mystery is really intriguing and I love seeing what Nia and Toby come up with during their investigations. The rain clue made me wonder what Pokemon in the area besides Eddy and Calder could know Rain Dance. To my surprise when looking on Bulbapedia, a lot of non-water types can learn Rain Dance via TM. As such, that clue would not do much good at the moment.

Another part of this chapter I really loved was Nia and Toby’s rapport. It’s really sweet that Toby has become so much more open with Nia, and that she feels much more at ease around him. The little worldbuilding about Nia being from the Midwest was a fun detail.

Samir was such a fun addition to the team for the stakeout! They have such a stoic personality, and it’s plain to see how seriously they take their job as a Seeker. I thought it was really interesting getting to learn that their former partner left them because they thought Samir’s ground writing was too slow for missions. It’s clear that Samir has a lot of pent up pain from being pretty much abandoned by someone they thought they could trust.

I have to reiterate how the stakeout was such a great scene! Team Scarlet and Samir have a really good dynamic and it was on fully display here. The atmosphere was excellent as well. The mysterious vanishing figure creeping through the desert on a lonely moonlit night really added to the tension of the stakeout. The hole under the mine cart was also such a great twist! I love secret passages in stories, so this is right up my alley. The artificial cavern scene had such a tense atmosphere to it. In addition to the fact there was a whole wall of mirrorstone for Giratina to observe them from, there’s evidence of something large burrowing underneath the town. And the twist that it was a Steelix is just so cool. Eddy making a fortune off of the building repairs is also such a great character motive for him. Definitely reminds me a bit of the scheme that Gurdurr and Scraggy had in Gates to Infinity. That final scene where the ground of the cavern opens up into darkness is just simply incredibly written. As always, I’ll be looking forward to reading the next chapter!

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 44]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

-

Tobias, Nia, and Samir explore the mine and put a plan into motion. But they might find more than they bargained for beneath the town...

-

Tobias is tense as he leads the way into the darkness of the tunnel, trying to keep his steps light just in case anyone is lurking inside. His tail flame throws bouncing shadows around the rocky walls, showing the remnants of rotting wooden support beams and broken lamp lights.

It’s cool in here, and eerily silent.

Nia and Samir follow him, sticking close to the halo of light he provides. They’re quiet as they carefully step over rocks and debris, the occasional broken tool or remnants of a crate scattered about.

They’ve only been walking for a minute or two, so Tobias is surprised when they reach the back of the tunnel, where a cave-in has blocked off the rest of the mine with a slope of dirt and rock. A lopsided old mine cart missing a wheel sits off to the side of it.

“That’s it?” He asks, tense shoulders dropping.

Nia pads past him, her brow furrowed. “That…can’t be it. I could’ve sworn the mines would have something to do with all this.”

Tobias had thought the same—it seemed like too big of a coincidence to have a network of underground mines surrounding a town suffering from earthquakes.

Samir sighs and shakes their head, sitting heavily on the ground and giving them another tired look. Tobias can just imagine the quiet I told you so.

Tobias crosses his arms, irritated. “Well now what? We just go back to town and hope we stumble on a lead? Lotta good that did us yesterday.”

“I mean…the town probably needs our help with repairs anyways,” Nia points out. She’s been padding around the perimeter of the cave, paw trailing along the wall as if she’ll find a secret switch or something. She drifts over to the rickety remains of the mine cart with her usual brand of curiosity.

Samir gives a nod of approval, and Tobias rolls his eyes. He doesn’t disagree, necessarily, but—

“Oh,” Nia says, only her tail visible from behind the mine cart. There’s a quiet clink, and then she shuffles out backwards, into the light of Tobias’ flame. “Look at this!”

In her paw dangles an oil lamp, unlit but half-filled with a clear liquid.

Samir stands, a bit too abrupt to be casual. Their brow is furrowed.

“Something weird about this?” Tobias asks, suspicious. He glances at it again, making sure it doesn’t look like some kind of trap.

Samir doesn’t look alarmed necessarily, but they do nose the lamp, staring hard at the way the oil within the container moves with the motion. Slowly, they nod, before writing in the dirt.

FRESH

“Right,” Nia says, frowning as she tilts the lamp and watches the oil move around inside. “If this was left behind from the old mining days, it surely would’ve dried up by now. Right?”

“Could Calder or one of the townsfolk have brought it here?” Tobias asks. “Recently, I mean. Maybe when he and Pan were investigating before the cave-in?”

Samir’s eyes flick to the mine cart. They jerk their chin at Tobias, urging him closer to it. Tobias doesn’t like being bossed around by the skiddo, but he moves to the cart regardless, following the grass type’s direction and shuffling behind it to bring his tail flame to the lamp’s previous hiding spot.

In the thin layer of dirt, there are faint circular impressions left behind. Many of them, actually—upwards of ten, easily. Some of them overlap, some of them are a few inches apart from each other. Tobias can tell just looking at them that they would match the bottom of the lantern they’d just found.

The only reason Tobias can think of for such a thing is if someone had been placing the lantern here, over and over again. A quick examination by Calder wouldn’t cause that.

“Did you find something?” Nia asks, trying to peer behind the cart to see.

“What do you think of these?” Tobias shuffles back to the cave wall so his tail will still illuminate the little wedge of space, careful not to step on the rings in the dirt.

“Are those…imprints?” Nia asks, glancing over her shoulder. “From the lantern?”

“Think so.”

“There’s so many…”

Tobias glances up at Samir, whose brow is furrowed. “Finally think there might be something weird going on?”

Samir’s mouth flattens, but they continue to stare at the rings. Slowly, they nod.

“So what do we do now?” Nia asks, crouching to get a closer look. “Do we tell Calder?”

“Then we’ll get in trouble for being here at all,” Tobias scoffs. “No, this isn’t solid evidence. We need to make sure we can convince him that something strange is actually happening before admitting to coming to the mines.”

Samir looks unhappy about that, but also doesn't protest. Since they know Calder better, Tobias guesses he’s spot-on.

“Okay, but how do we find solid evidence? Catch someone in the act of doing something, um…suspicious?” Nia asks, paw on her chin. “Since we don’t have cameras, I guess we would just have to stake out the cave until someone shows up?”

Her tone is half-joking, but Tobias considers it. “...Not a terrible idea, actually.”

Samir gives him a doubtful look, shuffling back into the tunnel proper. Nia and Tobias follow after putting the lantern back in place.

Samir is scratching something into the dirt. Tobias moves his tail closer to read it.

HOW KNOW THEY’LL COME BACK?

Tobias’ mouth twists. “I guess we can’t know for sure. But if those marks are anything to gauge by, they’ve been here pretty often.”

CAN’T STAY ALL DAY

TOWN NEEDS HELP

“We could take shifts,” Tobias suggests, though he’s reluctant. He doesn’t want one of them to get caught alone with someone who could be dangerous.

“Well,” Nia says. “If they don’t want to be seen they’re probably coming here at night, right? We could help out the town today, try to catch a nap in the evening, and then come out here after night falls?”

Samir and Tobias exchange a glance. Tobias can’t think of anything wrong with that plan, aside from them being exhausted come morning. Samir still seems uneasy, but doesn’t protest.

“You think Takeo will let us leave?” Nia asks. “He already looked kinda suspicious after we talked about the mines last night.”

“He’s not our parent,” Tobias scoffs. Still, the spidops could definitely ruin their plan if he finds out they disobeyed him and Granite and went to the mines anyways. “We’ll just have to sneak out. There’s a window in our room.”

Nia clearly isn’t thrilled about that, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she plays nervously with the collar of fluff around her neck and looks to their companion.

“S-Samir, are you going to join us?”

The skiddo slumps with defeat, but nods.

Tobias nods. “Meet us on the edge of town where we left today, after dark settles in.”

Once they’ve got their plan settled, Tobias leads the two of them back outside (after thoroughly erasing Samir’s words in the dirt), blinking in the almost painfully bright light of late morning. Slowly, the shapes and colors of the canyon and distant town come into focus.

“Nightfall, then?” Tobias confirms with the skiddo.

Samir nods before springing down the rocks and back towards town. Nia and Tobias hurry to follow.

—————————————————————————————

Calder is visibly relieved when the three of them approach him about how to best help the town. The inteleon immediately directs them to where the most dire assistance is needed, splitting them up to cover more ground.

The day after the quake is no less busy, but slightly less frantic. Less damage control for injuries, but lots of deliveries needed for patients’ medication and other supplies. Less huge structural concerns, but plenty of signs needing rehung and planks of wood needing straightened and nailed down.

Tobias, sweat hissing from his skin within the hour, passes frequently by Nia, Samir, and Calder, as well as the town doctor. They’re all busy at work, trying to help the town back to its feet. A few of the townsfolk come forward to offer to help too throughout the day, but most ‘mon are busy enough trying to tend to their own problems.

Aurum, the weirdly cheery hakamo-o, requests Tobias’ help with sealing up some cracks in her bank’s stone steps. She chatters happily to him the whole time, which is annoying, but at least she doesn’t expect more from him than the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.

He’s helping Nia drag some heavy bags of grain to a house down the street when they pass by Pyre, the angry camerupt not even sparing them a glance as he stomps by with some lumber strapped to the small volcanoes on his back. Nia cows away from him, clearly still guilty for suspecting him after learning his daughter was injured in the quakes. Tobias ignores the grumpy old fire type completely.

Tobias helps Samir fix a cracked window next, which apparently belongs to the skiddo's boarder. The lilligant dotes on Samir as the two of them work, making sure the grass type and their “little friend” (Tobias glares at Samir at that) have refreshments. Still, he appreciates the hydration berry she bustles off to find him, and her sweetness is too much like Maggie for him to feel genuinely annoyed.

The three of them take a late lunch when Nia tracks him down whining about their skipped breakfast. They move to grab some food at Deidra’s saloon—not wanting to risk interrogation from Takeo or Granite if possible—until they’re reminded of the terrible damage done to the place when they can see the inner workings of the building from down the street. The building is closed for the day as the construction crew puts aside their most recent project to clear out the worst of the damages.

“Hurry it up with those!” Eddy shouts to one of his workers. The dewott is busy chopping through lumber with deft, precise slices of his razor shell.

“Just making sure they’re in good,” the primeape they saw yesterday says. Cody the aggron is helping him, using a heavy arm to hammer a huge wooden stake into the dirt.

“‘We don't want 'em coming loose if we get any more rain,” Cody adds.

Eddy barks a laugh. “We won’t get any more rain for now. Keep it moving.”

“Awful confident,” the primeape grumbles.

“He is a water type,” Cody points out, finished with his hammering. He leans back to survey his work with a satisfied swish of his heavy tail. “He would know best.”

“Less talkin’, more working,” Eddy grunts, but doesn’t berate them further.

Samir moves away from the construction crew, gesturing for Tobias and Nia to follow. The skiddo doesn't lead the group back to Granite and Takeo’s shop, but instead across town to the little house where Tobias helped replace that window earlier.

Sure enough, Samir’s lilligant boarder is on the porch, sending a petilil off with a wrapped lunch carefully balanced atop her tiny head.

Tobias and Nia step out of the way for her, and Samir gives the little grass type a smile and a nod as she passes by with a chipper, “Hi, Sammy!”

The lilligant, who Tobias doesn’t remember the name of, notices them with a pleased scrunch to her eyes. “Samir! Oh, and your charmander friend, too. Are you here for lunch?”

Samir almost seems bashful, glancing back at Tobias and Nia as if unsure of their presence.

“Oh, we’ve got enough for everyone, don’t worry! Come on in, kids. My name is Lara.”

The lilligant turns and shuffles inside, and the group follows.

“I-I’m Nia!” Nia says, once they’ve entered the homey little living space. She gives Lara a warm smile and a bow. “Thank you for having us!”

Lara laughs. “Well, ain’t you polite! Nice to meet you. My little one could learn some manners from you. Go on and get comfortable and I’ll find a little something for y'all to eat.”

Samir gives her a grateful nod that Tobias copies. Then, the skiddo sits comfortably one one of the large, flat cushions bordering the nearby low table. They're clearly familiar with the space.

“So this is where you’re staying?” Nia whispers, taking a seat beside them. Tobias follows her lead as she looks around with wide eyes. “It’s so cozy!”

It is. The space is packed close but not tight between the table and walls, the cushions beneath them worn but still soft and comfy. Two bookshelves sit against the walls, holding trinkets, a few books, a stack of board games, cards, and other things like sketchbooks and paint supplies in tiny jars. A stack of well-worn quilts and blankets sit next to the nearest bookshelf, ready to grab on chilly nights. Paintings and sketches line the walls in little frames, and a small table with a vase of half-dead flowers sits beneath the window.

“Here you go, kids. Still hot.”

Lara shuffles into the room with three plates along her arm, cushioned by a towel. She places a steaming plate in front of each of them, which Nia eagerly brings closer. Looks like some kind of thick vegetable stew. It smells pretty good, even if the veggies themselves seem a bit scrawny beneath the savory sauce.

“Apologies for the scrappy servings,” Lara says, wiping her leaves on the towel. “The town is a bit tight on food right now thanks to the quakes messing up our crops and keeping merchants away. I can barely keep our harvest running at half its usual output.”

“You’re a farmer?” Nia asks, clearly surprised. She pauses in blowing off her hot food.

Lara laughs. “Sure am! Fourth generation. I may not look it, but I’m actually quite good with the soil ‘round here. This rain is something else. Never seen anything like it.”

Tobias pauses as he picks up his fork. He’s heard offhanded comments saying much the same thing, and even thought himself that it seemed like a lot of rain for a desert town. Could it be connected to the quakes? If they suspect someone of causing those, could someone also intentionally be causing the rain? He can’t imagine why they would want to, but…

“Could a water type be causing the rain?” Tobias asks, taking a bite. Oh, it’s good. Much better tasting than it looks. He hurries to take a second mouthful, grateful for his heat-resistant mouth so he doesn’t have to wait for it to cool.

Lara smiles at his enthusiasm. “I s'pose a water type could bring in rain like this, but the only water types in town are Calder and Eddy, and they know we don’t need any more.”

Tobias refrains from saying anything in response. There’s not an ounce of suspicion in Lara’s voice, and Samir is glaring at Tobias as if to say that if he starts interrogating the lilligant, he has a headbutt in his future.

But he quietly takes that information in as they eat, thanking the lilligant for the meal.

Calder and Eddy are the only water types in town, huh? Tobias didn’t feel anything particularly off about either of them. Calder seems to genuinely care about the town and is clearly still grieving the loss of his partner. Likewise, Eddy just seems like a hard-working ‘mon doing his best to help the townsfolk after their homes and businesses have been ravaged by the quakes.

Maybe the rain is just a freak coincidence after all?

Tobias mulls it over as they eat, idly listening to Nia and Lara chat. The meal is on the smaller side, but it’s hearty and filling and delicious. By time they finish and say their goodbyes, heading back into town to continue their work, Tobias is full and feels rejuvenated. Nia hums happily as they seek out Calder, clearly feeling the same, and even Samir seems to have an extra skip to their step.

With their newfound energy, they get back to work.

—————————————————————————————

It’s early evening when Calder dismisses them all to go back to their lodgings and rest for the day. Tobias, sore and exhausted and with more than a few knicks on his fingers from a variety of tools, doesn’t argue. He and Nia part from Samir with a whispered confirmation of their meeting later that night, then drag themselves back to Granite and Takeo’s place.

The donphan and spidops are amiable but gruff as usual, and the four of them have a short, tired meal before Tobias mutters something about heading to bed early to get some rest for tomorrow. Nia yawns as she agrees.

Luckily, Granite and Takeo don’t seem suspicious, and let them trudge off to their lodgings with little fuss. When they get to their room and shut the door, Nia immediately flops into their pile of cushions.

“I’m never getting up again,” she whines. “I’m so sore.”

Tobias follows her, plopping down a little heavier than he usually would at her side. He can feel her brushing by him, but he’s too tired to move.

“Too bad,” he grumbles. “Because we’ve gotta get back up in a couple hours to do your stupid stakeout.”

Nia turns her head to pout at him in the slowly setting light. “Hey! You agreed to it.”

Tobias makes a noncommittal noise and lets his eyes slip shut.

“How do we make sure we wake up in time?” Nia mumbles, voice already slurred with sleep.

“I’ll just doze,” Tobias answers, hoping that his usual light sleeping habits will be enough to keep them on schedule.

Nia doesn’t argue, either because she trusts he’ll wake back up or because she doesn’t want to think about it anymore. A quiet little snore escapes her.

Oh. Or she’s already asleep.

Tobias huffs, amused, and lets himself drift into a light sleep, face pointed to be able to see the window if he opens his eyes.

It feels like a brief moment later that a quiet noise wakes Tobias. He startles from his nap, but stays still in the dimly lit darkness of their room. The window outside is a deep gray-black. What time is it?

Another sound makes Tobias realize what woke him: the quiet creak of the door closing. The doorknob settles back into place as it shuts. The gentle, rhythmic thump of footfalls—light and staggered, so it must be Takeo—fades away.

Was he checking on them? Suspicious that they’d slipped out?

Whatever the intent, Tobias is grateful for it waking him up. He waits another few seconds before pushing himself out of the comfy pile of cushions, groaning. He’s so sore. His entire body feels tired and heavy. But they said they’d investigate, and Samir is probably waiting for them.

Tobias peeks out the window, glad to see from how the shadows fall outside that the moon isn’t very high yet. They might be a little late, but not drastically so.

Tobias wakes Nia, basically having to roll her out of the nest completely to get her out of her deep sleep.

“Whuz happening?” She mumbles, bleary-eyed as she sits up.

“Stakeout time,” Tobias answers, grabbing her arms and yanking her to her feet.

She stumbles, but stays up, rubbing at her eyes. “This was a terrible idea.”

“Reminder that it was your idea.”

“My judgement stands.”

Tobias bites back a laugh and moves to the window, unlocking its latch to swing it open. Cool night air drifts against his face and into the room like a blot of ink in water. It wakes him up, at least, and from how Nia whines and shakes out her fur behind him, it does the same for her.

Tobias glances at the door one more time before crawling up and over the windowsill. He makes sure the dirt below is clear before gently dropping to the ground.

Nia slowly clambers out the window after him, clearly trying to be careful and not make extra noise.

“Oh! Wait!” Tobias hisses.

Nia freezes, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Go back in and grab our bag,” Tobias whispers.

Nia nods, slipping back into the darkness of the room and rummaging around for a few moments. Then, she reappears, looping its thick strap over her shoulder and across her body.

“Got it!”

“C’mon then.”

Nia carefully climbs over the sill again, turning to lower herself to the ground and stretching out a searching paw to the dirt.

“We’re gonna have another quake before you actually get out of there.”

“Nope, no more earthquakes,” Nia responds, finally reaching solid ground. “I had enough hiding under bars yesterday, thank you very much.”

Tobias reaches up to close the window, hoping that Takeo won’t think to check on them again yet tonight. Then he turns to lead them to the edge of town, glancing around for anyone who might spot them. Unfortunately, his tail flame makes it a little hard to sneak around in the dark, but they can at least try to avoid the townsfolk.

They dart from alleyway to alleyway, moving between buildings in quick bursts. Two ‘mon are talking loudly the next street over, so Tobias leans back against the wall to wait for a chance to slip across. “I’ve been meaning to ask—how’d you know what to do during that earthquake yesterday anyways?”

Nia is busy readjusting the satchel across her shoulder, but spares him an amused look. “We did a lot of earthquake drills in school. Way too many for living in the Midwest, honestly.”

Tobias frowns at her. “Earthquake drills?” Like a drilbur’s drill?

Nia smiles at his confusion. “Yeah! Like…doing a practice run of what we’d do in an emergency, y’know? We would sit under our desks and put a book over our head and neck.”

Tobias frowns. “Are natural disasters getting more common in the human realm too?”

Nia starts to shake her head, but then hesitates. “Actually, they are, but I think ours are due to climate change. Anyways! No, we just kind of had to cover stuff like that for school regulations. Still don’t know why I was so convinced quicksand would be such a concern in my adult life, though.”

Tobias snorts. The voices of the two ‘mon finally move along, fading into the distance, so he waves for Nia to follow before darting into the next alley.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the edge of town, and Samir steps out of the darkness between some barrels right away. Tied to their back is a bulky brown sack, although the weight of it seems light.

“Samir! Were you waiting long?”

The skiddo shakes their head, but jerks their chin in the direction of the mine, clearly wanting to get going. Tobias can’t argue with that, so he gestures for the grass type to take the lead.

The trip across the canyon is quiet, even Nia too busy watching her feet on the uneven terrain (and sending the occasional nervous glance over her shoulder) to strike up a conversation. The sand and rock underfoot is cooling now that the sun has set, and the path ahead is dark, Tobias’ tail offering the only light aside from the dim glow of the stars and moon. He’s grateful that Samir seems to remember the path to the cave, only having to stop occasionally to get their bearings.

Once they reach the edge of the canyon, Samir hops up the tumble of rocks first, stopping every few feet to look back and make sure Tobias and Nia are following. Tobias lights the way for Nia, grabbing her arm to haul her up one of the larger rocks when she slips.

“Where should we hide while we wait?” She asks, looking around.

“Somewhere I can hide my tail flame,” Tobias says, peeking behind some nearby rocks.

Two distinct taps get their attention, and Tobias looks up to see Samir’s head peering over some nearby boulders, at a slightly higher vantage point than they're currently at. The skiddo gestures for them to come up.

Tobias and Nia do so, scrabbling up the sediment and rock a little too loudly. When they reach Samir they find a little spot tucked away behind some large stones, but with a good view of the path leading up to the mines.

“This is perfect!” Nia whispers, sitting down. There’s a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Good find, Samir.”

Tobias grudgingly agrees. He sits next to Nia as they all settle down onto the cold, hard ground. Small rocks jab into his skin, and he shifts constantly for a minute or so, trying to get comfortable. He tucks his tail flame away at the base of the larger stones, stacking a few small rocks around it to form a little tent and hide away some of the light.

“Think that’s good enough?” He asks.

“I'll check!”

Nia slips out of their hiding place to make sure she can’t see his tail from the path. After a moment, she climbs back up to them.

“You can tell something is off about the lighting if you’re really looking for it, but I don’t think anyone will notice.”

Tobias isn’t satisfied by that, and carefully restacks the stones around his tail to try to contain the light a bit better. He's used to having his tail free to move around and he really doesn't like the feeling of forcing it still.

By time Tobias finally stops fiddling with the rocks, Nia is already not-so-subtly scoots closer to him, visibly trembling now that they aren’t moving about.

Tobias raises a brow, amused. “Cold?”

“F-Fire types don’t get teasing rights in sub-zero t-temperatures,” Nia chatters.

Samir makes a quiet rasping sound that Tobias realizes after a moment is a laugh. Then they reach back over their shoulder and tug open the tie on the brown sack they’d brought along, shoving their short muzzle right in.

“S-Samir?” Nia asks, giving Tobias a questioning look. He shrugs.

Samir pulls their head out of the sack, a well-worn blanket gently clamped between their teeth. It looks familiar, and Tobias realizes after a moment that it must be one of the blankets from Lara’s house. Samir drops it in Nia’s lap, then gives her a stern look and a point of their hoof.

Nia gasps, gathering the blanket in her paws and unfolding it. “Thank you! I’ll be careful with it, promise!”

Samir nods, apparently satisfied, and pulls out a second blanket for themself. They unfold it with their snout and then tug it over their body until they too are covered.

“Thank God we have someone to remember the important stuff,” Nia says, happily wrapping herself up in the blanket. “You’re the best, Samir.”

Tobias feels a stab of irritation at that, but it dies away just as quickly when Nia opens one arm of her quilt and gives him a pleading look.

“You have to come over here," Tobias points out. "I can’t move my tail."

He stays put as Nia hurries to his side and envelops him in the other half of the blanket cocoon. Some part of him is embarrassed about the close quarters, but the rest of him is just pleased that he still has something over Samir.

“You should pay me for how often you use me as a personal heater,” Tobias grumbles. “Cozy?”

Nia makes a happy hum and presses cool fur against his side. “Yup!”

Samir gives the two of them an amused look, clearly content under their own blanket.

And then they wait.

The night is cold but calm, the canyon walls a towering presence of black around them. After a little while, the town’s distant lights start to go dark, one by one. The only sound is the wind and the occasional shift from one of Tobias’ companions.

Tobias’ tail, tucked away and hidden among the rocks, only offers a small circle of light. Otherwise, their surroundings are doused in a level of blackness he’s unfamiliar with. But thanks to that, their adjusted eyes can see more than usual, too.

Overhead, the ragged circle of sky is absolutely filled with stars. Tobias can see how the night sky is layered with them, like thin sheets of crystal. Nia and Samir have followed his gaze, and the riolu in particular looks awestruck by the sight, eyes wide and mouth ajar.

Tobias loves the sight of the stars, but feels a painful knot of nostalgia tug at his chest. The night sky was like this in the mountains, too, open and endless.

When the skies were particularly clear and calm, Tobias’ parents would take him and Vivi flying. Tobias can recall with painful clarity the breathless feeling of being one with that night sky, surrounded on all sides by galaxies and stars that felt close enough to touch. Close enough to fall into. But he’d always felt safe with his parents, grinning from atop one of their backs and occasionally calling out to Vivi. His family's tails looked like shooting stars as they drifted through the dark sky.

Tobias moves his gaze back down to the black stretch of the land. He takes a breath that is audibly shakier than he would like, and Nia, pressed close to his side, notices. She gives him a concerned look that he ignores.

Nia sighs, but loops her arm through his to give what he thinks is supposed to be a reassuring squeeze. He swallows down the embarrassed heat in his throat, the kind that makes him want to snap and push her away. He’s reluctantly enjoying the sensation of her so close and so solid at his side. It's grounding.

Nia tries to start up a hushed conversation with Tobias and Samir once or twice, but each time she does Tobias gives her a frown and glances towards town, nervous about their voices carrying across the canyon. Eventually, she falls silent again. Probably wishing she had a book or something to pass the time.

Hours crawl by. They must, for the stars to slowly migrate overhead and the moon to rise higher and higher into the sky.

Their hiding spot isn’t exactly comfortable, out in the frigid cold and atop rocky terrain, but they try to keep quiet as they readjust, stretching and shuffling when their muscles grow tight and stiff.

Even Tobias is feeling antsy by midnight, torn between exhaustion from the long day and keyed-up tension from their stakeout. Samir looks as calm and unflappable as ever, gazing out towards the town. Tobias thinks Nia has nodded off a few times, until he sees her ear flick or feels her squeeze his arm in the warmth of their blanket cocoon.

“Hey, Samir?”

The riolu’s soft voice feels loud and out of place after the silence. Tobias gives her a warning look, but this time she ignores him.

Samir glances at her.

“You don’t have to answer, but…” Nia takes a breath, the exhale clouding the night air. “Why are you out here on your own? In Asra, I mean. You’re a Seeker, right? At the Lexym Guild, all Seekers have to have a partner.”

Tobias watches Samir’s face, curious despite himself. The skiddo looks caught off-guard at first, but then they look away, their expression closed-off. There's something there, though, poorly hidden just under the surface. Something Tobias recognizes.

Anger.

“I-I’m sorry,” Nia hurries to say. “You really don’t have to talk about it, I just—“

Nia cuts herself off as Samir starts writing in the dirt with the tip of their hoof. They write one word. Pause. Write another. Much slower than they’ve written anything else.

When they’re done, Tobias leans in with Nia to read.

HAD PARTNER

NOT ANYMORE

“Oh,” Nia whispers, her free paw coming up over her mouth. “I…I’m so sorry.”

Tobias feels a lump grow in his own throat, remembering all too clearly how just a week ago he thought Nia might die from her illness. Leaving him alone again.

But Samir shakes their head, as if to correct them. They write again with sharp drags of their hoof.

ALIVE

DIDN’T WANT

Nia frowns. “Didn’t..? You didn’t want them to be your partner?”

Samir winces. Moves to add a single word to the end of their sentence.

“Oh,” Tobias says, quiet. “They…didn’t want you.”

Samir goes still, staring down at their hoof still poised to write. Their face is hard and almost blank. A practiced kind of expression.

“What?” Nia whispers. “But…why wouldn’t they want you as a partner? You’re like the perfect Seeker! You take your job seriously and you’re observant and nice and—“

Samir looks her dead in the eye, an uncharacteristic spark of hurt in their expression. Then, they tilt their chin up and pat the flat of their hoof against their neck, twice.

At this angle, Tobias can see the edge of a large scar peeking out from the mane of leaves around their throat, even in the darkness. Still pink—relatively fresh. A few months old, if that.

Tobias’ hand drifts up to his own scarf.

“They didn’t want to be your partner because you can’t speak?” Nia asks, clearly bewildered.

“I think they were partners, when Samir lost their voice,” Tobias rasps.

The skiddo nods once at Tobias, looking even more tired than usual.

If that was supposed to soothe Nia, it only does the opposite. Tobias can feel her fur bristle against his side.

“What?!”

Tobias shushes Nia, glancing below them at the dark path.

Nia lowers her voice, but is no less incensed. “You were already partners and they just…gave up on you because you got hurt?”

Samir nods. The skiddo’s discomfort is clear enough that even Tobias is about to elbow Nia and urge her to drop it.

But Nia lunges forward, free paw slapping to the dirt. “That’s terrible!”

Samir looks surprised by the heat of Nia’s comment, leaning back and blinking at her.

“What kind of partner—heck, what kind of decent person does that?!” Nia fumes. “What, they couldn’t learn freakin’ Morse code or something? What a stupid excuse!”

Samir frowns at Nia, but looks more frustrated than anything. They shake their head and hurriedly scribble something in the dirt.

MISSIONS TOO FAST

HAVE TO TALK

Well, it would be a bit difficult to communicate in the middle of a fight without speech. Especially when Samir can’t even use sign language thanks to their hooves.

But Nia fervently shakes her head. “No! No, that’s—don’t make excuses for them. We’ve been communicating with you just fine for days and we literally just met you!”

Tobias’ brows lift. She does have a point. He looks back to Samir.

The skiddo’s eyes narrow. They huff, writing again and underlining the last word with an angry jab of their hoof.

WRITING SLOW

MISSIONS FAST

Nia huffs, crossing her arms. “There are other ways to communicate besides talking, even in the middle of a mission.”

Samir gives Tobias a wide-eyed look, clearly hoping for backup. Tobias just lifts his hands in surrender.

“She insisted on partnering with me. And I used to be even more of a jerk than I am now. Good luck.”

Samir’s mouth twitches like they’re fighting a smile. Before they can write a rebuttal, their ears prick to attention. They snap their head up, looking towards the path to town. Nia’s gaze follows the skiddo's, her own ears tilting forward.

They must hear something. Tobias double-checks that his tail flame is hidden.

“This isn’t over,” Nia promises—threatens?—with a point of her finger at Samir. The skiddo gives her an unimpressed look and bats her paw away with a hoof. Tobias shushes them both.

Sure enough, a half minute later, movement catches Tobias eye. It's hard to make out in the darkness, but as the shape gets closer Tobias recognizes a smaller figure, likely just a bit bigger than himself. Bipedal. They’re in a cloak, hood up, which is suspicious in itself.

The figure picks their way across the rocky terrain and starts the climb up to the mine, just a few feet away from their hiding spot. Tobias holds his breath, Nia and Samir still as stone at his sides.

The figure disappears over the lip of the rocks, into the cave, and silence falls again.

“Should we follow them?” Nia murmurs.

“Let’s give ‘em a minute or two. Make sure they don’t just come back out.”

They wait, tense and gazes locked onto the yawning darkness of the cave. Tobias’ breath leaves him in a quiet cloud of steam. His heart beats steady and swift against his chest.

“Okay, they’ve gotta be doing something in there,” Tobias whispers. “Let’s check it out. Just be ready for a fight.”

Nia slips out from the hiding place first, and Tobias moves to follow. Samir stops him, stepping in his path with a shake of their head.

“What?” Tobias asks.

Samir frowns, then writes something in the dirt. Tobias glances again at the cave before pulling his tail closer to read it.

STAY

TAIL BRIGHT

Tobias’ face flushes, and he flicks his tail self-consciously behind him. “I can’t just let you two go in there alone!”

Nia gives him a sympathetic look. “Sorry Tobias, but, uh…Samir’s got a point. If we’re trying to be subtle, then your tail is pretty noticeable.”

Tobias huffs, crossing his arms. They’re right. Doesn’t mean he has to like it.

“Fine. I’ll wait outside. But call for me if anything goes wrong.”

Nia gives him a smile and a nod. Samir leads the way down to the cave, peering cautiously around the edge of it. After a beat, they slip inside. Nia treads after him on quiet paws, blending into the shadows with her blue and black fur.

Tobias stands just outside the cave, off to the side to avoid being a literal beacon, and strains to listen for any sign of a fight. He doesn’t doubt Samir's (or Nia's) capabilities, but he doesn’t like his partner going in there without him if there’s a potentially dangerous criminal lurking about.

Thankfully, it’s only a minute or so before Nia jogs back to the opening. She looks perplexed, but not panicked.

“We can’t find anyone.”

Tobias frowns. “But the tunnel’s blocked off.”

He follows the riolu in, glancing up at the roof and from side to side as they walk deeper. It only takes a minute for them to reach the same spot they’d hit this morning, with the caved-in tumble of rocks and dirt and the broken-down mine cart. Sure enough, there’s no one here but an equally unsure Samir.

Tobias turns around, suspicious. “They couldn’t have just vanished!”

“Could a ghost type do that?” Nia asks, feeling around the rocky walls again. “Turn invisible or go through the cave-in or something?”

“I don’t think so,” Tobias murmurs, glancing at Samir for confirmation. The skiddo seems like they’re barely listening, also nudging around rocks and debris. Still, they take a moment to meet Tobias’ eye and shrug. Helpful.

Nia has made her way back over to the mine cart, peering behind it. “Tobias, can you come here for a sec? Maybe the lantern moved.”

He moves to her side, pulling his tail around and look into the dark wedge of space where they’d found the lantern this morning. But all Tobias sees are the imprints in the dirt.

“It’s gone,” Tobias confirms.

Samir steps past him, leaning down to sniff at the imprints. Then, their head tilts ever so slightly, looking instead at the nearest wheel of the mine cart like something caught their eye. Nia crouches to inspect it too.

Tobias follows them, brows shooting up as he notices what they have. There’s a faint line in the dirt behind each wheel: drag marks where the cart was scooted over a foot or so before being dragged back into place.

“Oh, good find!” Nia says.

“The cart was moved?” Tobias asks.

“Should we look underneath?” Nia asks in return. She doesn’t wait for an answer, lying on her belly to peer beneath the cart. She slips a paw under and a faint blue light spills out at she uses her aura to take a look.

She gasps. “There’s a hole under here! Big enough for someone around our size to fit through.”

“Sneaky,” Tobias murmurs. “Help me move it.”

“W-We’re following them down there?”

Samir shakes their head, expression hard. The skiddo writes a quick note in the dirt.

DANGEROUS

GET CALDER

“Samir’s right,” Nia says, shifting uneasily. “We don’t know if this’ll turn into a fight or what’s waiting for us down there.”

But if they go get Calder, will he just insist on taking a look himself, without their help? What if Rosalind and Granite don’t count that as Team Scarlet solving the problem, and don’t give Tobias the information they’ve worked so hard for? What if this is nothing malicious and they’re kicked out of town for trespassing in the mines before they really can solve the earthquake issue?

Tobias’ stomach sinks at the thought.

“We'll just take a quick look,” Tobias says.

Samir gives a quiet stomp, shaking their head and glaring at Tobias. They underline the word DANGEROUS in the dirt.

“Samir’s right—we don’t know what’s down there,” Nia hedges, clearly wanting to keep the peace. “Maybe Calder will let us help investigate?”

“And if it’s not connected to the quakes and we’re kicked out of town instead?” Tobias presses, trying to sound rational instead of desperate. “It was only one ‘mon! We can take ‘em if they put up a fight.”

Samir huffs and shakes their head again, but Tobias can tell he’s winning Nia over. He feels a bit bad taking advantage of the riolu’s peacekeeping nature, but he can't risk the possibility of them failing this mission and missing out on Rosalind’s info.

“I’m going,” He decides. He presses his back to the cart and leans his weight into it. “You two can wait up here if you want.”

Samir snags Tobias’ scarf with their horn, yanking him away from the cart. Tobias hisses and swipes at the skiddo until they back off.

“Don’t touch that! You aren’t stopping me!” Tobias growls, a few embers climbing up his throat. He clutches at his scarf protectively.

“Don’t fight!” Nia says, stepping between them. She looks back and forth, nibbling on her lip. “O-Okay, how about we just take a peek, see if we can see anything. Then we can go tell Calder if it looks suspicious.”

Samir is clearly as unhappy about that compromise as Tobias is, but neither one offers a protest.

Nia joins Tobias in pushing back against the cart, just until it rolls a foot or so across the dirt. They try to take it slow to avoid the old rusted metal squeaking too loudly.

When it’s pushed aside, Tobias holds out his tail to see a fairly large hole dug into the ground, just as Nia said. A fraying rope ladder is staked into the dirt at the top, leading down into impenetrable darkness.

“Looks inviting,” Nia says weakly.

Samir huffs, tapping their hoof to one of their previous words in the dirt.

CALDER

Panic gnaws at Tobias chest, and he tries to keep it out of his words as he says, “This could still be something completely unrelated. Let’s just go down to check it out.”

Nia wrings her paws. Samir stares at Tobias with a hard gaze, clearly understanding exactly what it is that Tobias is doing.

“Look, you two don’t have to come with me, okay?” Tobias grumbles, rolling his eyes. “I’ll go check it out myself.”

Tobias doesn’t give Nia or Samir the chance to stop him. He swings himself over the lip and puts his weight down on the first rope rung, feeling it dip under his foot.

“Tobias!” Nia whisper-shouts, clearly freaking out. “Stop! W-We should really go get Calder.”

“You two go get him,” Tobias says, easing his way down one step at a time. “I’m checking it out.” And hopefully whoever he finds will be weak enough for him to handle on his own.

Nia whimpers something under her breath. Then, the rope ladder sways and jerks with a movement not Tobias’ own. He looks up, not entirely surprised but very relieved to see Nia stepping down after him. He wasn’t going to force her to follow him, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t let him go alone.

Tobias continues his descent, taking the next few rungs step by step. The rope creaks under their weight.

The ladder suddenly jerks, a bit rougher than before, and Tobias’ head snaps up again. But Nia is looking up too, lighting a ball of aura in her paw and holding it up as she whispers, “Samir?”

Tobias can barely see the vague silhouette of Samir clumsily making their way down the rope ladder after them, making the ladder sway and shake as they try to hook their legs around the rungs.

Tobias feels more of the nervous weight on his shoulders melt away. A small part of him feels guilty for basically forcing the other two to follow him down, but he shoves it away and continues on. This is important. They’ll be fine with all three of them.

They go lower and lower, drowning in tense silence. The walls of the tunnel close in on them, dark and stifling all sound. Tobias is grateful for his tail flame, letting them see where their footing is.

Finally, Tobias sees a faint glow of light below. He hurries his steps, gripping hard to the rope as Samir’s clumsy movements rock the ladder.

Tobias touches down on cold dirt in a small, enclosed space. As Nia follows, hopping to the ground and helping Samir down the last few steps, he turns.

The smaller space opens up to a much larger, much brighter cavern that is bathed in a low, rosy light. He steps into the cave, craning his head back to take it all in.

Much like the tunnels under the Lexym Guild, the dirt and rock of the cavern is lit by chunks of crystal sticking out of the walls and floor, embedded in both large and small chunks. Some are a deep pink, and some are a golden yellow. Tobias takes a step closer to one to touch it, startled by the warmth at his fingertips.

They almost seem...familiar, in a way. After a moment, he realizes where he’s seen them before. These must be the crystals used in weather-lengthening battle items, like heat rocks and smooth rocks. Huh.

“Tobias!” Nia whispers.

He turns, something in his partner's voice putting him on edge. Nia is hurrying closer to him, staring nervously at the opposite wall of the cave. It’s only after Tobias catches movement flashing along its surface in patches that he realizes what he’s looking at.

“Mirrorstone?” He asks, cautiously moving closer to investigate.

“I thought Granite said the town ran the mirrorstone supply dry,” Nia murmurs, following.

“He did,” Tobias confirms, frowning as he reaches out to touch one of the stones. It’s cool, its reflection clear enough that he can see the minuscule scales of his skin this close up.

Nia whimpers and tugs at Tobias’ arm. He gives her a look.

“It’s a reflection, right?” She whispers. “W-What if Giratina can see us through there?”

Tobias’ heart skips a beat. He hurriedly steps back and away from the wall, Nia stumbling along with him. Samir, who had followed them over, looks between them and the wall, clearly alarmed by their reaction.

“Maybe he can’t find us down here,” Tobias says, more out of a desperate attempt at reassurance than any actual faith in the thought.

Nia doesn’t answer, which tells him he didn’t quite sell it.

Before anyone can say anything else, there’s a distant shout, echoing into the cave. Tobias’ head snaps up to follow the noise, only now noticing the large tunnel dug into one of the walls, leading off to the side and around a bend.

Almost immediately after, the ground beneath them, around them, above them, begins to shake. Tobias curses and grabs onto one of the larger chunks of crystal. Nia huddles against him, and Samir braces against them both.

Tobias fears this will be another big quake, but it only lasts a few seconds, and it doesn’t rip apart the ground like the earthquake that hit Deidra’s saloon. This one feels more gentle, quickly petering off into stillness once again.

It’s not until a second voice, deeper and louder but still indistinguishable, sounds off from the same direction that Tobias registers the vibration for what it likely was.

That wasn’t a quake, was it? It was a Pokemon moving. Digging around beneath the earth.

Tobias shuffles closer to the opening of the tunnel, ignoring Nia’s quiet protest. His eyes trace the walls of it as it leads away from the cavern.

While the cave they’re in feels naturally-made, what Tobias can see of this tunnel looks more…artificial. There are huge, rhythmic grooves set into the walls, and many of the gems embedded into the surface are cracked or sliced in half. As if something very, very big dug this tunnel. Burrowed right through the earth and stone with ease.

Nia and Samir follow his gaze, and Tobias can see them piecing it together as well. Nia’s ears pin to her head, and Samir takes a cautious step backwards.

“C-Could the Pokemon we saw do all this?” Nia asks.

Tobias swallows. The distant voices are audible again. Voices, plural. There’s definitely more than one Pokemon down here with them.

Tobias takes a step towards the voices. Samir grunts and hurries to stand in front of him, head lowered and horns pointing straight at his face. The message is clear.

“W-We should really go get Calder,” Nia whispers in agreement, glancing up at the tunnel walls again. “We don’t know what kind of Pokemon is up ahead.”

They’re right. Tobias knows they’re right.

But the thought that somehow, someway, if they don’t take these guys down all on their own then they won’t get the info that Rosalind promised as a reward…

That thought fuels the determined fire in his chest.

“I’m checking it out,” Tobias says, stepping around Samir.

“Tobias!” Nia grabs his arm, yanking him to a stop. She looks scared. “Please, we can go get help and come back. We—“

“Have to figure this out on our own,” Tobias hisses, pulling his arm free. “If Rosalind doesn’t think we carried our weight, she might not…this trip can't have been for nothing, Nia!”

“It wasn’t for nothing!” Nia snaps, blinking back tears. She glances down the tunnel, then back at him with a frown. “We’ve helped so many people in this town, Tobias! That’s not nothing!”

“But it’s not what I came here for,” Tobias growls.

Before she or Samir can argue further, he spins and hurries as quietly as he can down the tunnel, to the next bend in the path. His reflection follows him in the corner of his eye, showing bits and pieces of his visage in the patches of mirrorstone embedded into the walls.

Nia, of course, follows, though her distress is palpable as she alternates between shooting the walls nervous glances and giving him a pleading expression. Samir hesitates farther back, glancing over their shoulder as if considering going to town to grab Calder. But then they shake their head, visibly angry, and follow.

Tobias checks that the coast is clear, the voices a bit louder but still a bit of a ways away. Then he hurries forward again, stepping carefully around sharp, broken stone and crystal.

He slows considerably as the voices grow in volume. The yellow glow of a lantern—probably the one they’d found this morning—paints the cave walls ahead in a slightly brighter light that winks and gleams in the pieces of mirrorstone. Tobias can hear the voices grow louder and sharper as they approach. One of them, the higher one, sounds vaguely familiar. The second voice with the much deeper tone is completely unknown.

Tobias peers around the edge of the tunnel. After a moment, Samir huffs and ducks under Tobias’ arm. Nia leans lightly against Tobias' back to peer over his head.

Ahead, in another open cavern, are two Pokemon. The figure they'd followed into the tunnels has pulled down their hood, and Tobias recognizes the dark pointed ears and turquoise fur even from behind. Eddy, the dewott construction crew manager.

Facing Eddy, dwarfing his form, is a massive silver face. It’s peering out from the darkness of the tunnels with a heavy jaw of blocky teeth and black-rimmed eyes. The cavern's colorful stones and the lantern’s light reflects off the Pokemon’s thick metallic hide.

“A steelix,” Tobias murmurs, a nervous chill rolling down his spine. Now that's a Pokemon who can cause some damage. Guess they know for sure who dug these tunnels now.

Tobias' eyes trace the heavy split of a scar cracking through the steelix's shell, starting over the Pokemon's left eye and trailing all the way down to his jutting lower jaw. The blood red color of that iris is dulled slightly, clearly damaged from whatever left such a mark.

“You almost took me out with that quake yesterday!” Eddy is snarling, paw waving. “Half of Deidra’s saloon came down!”

The steelix snorts, kicking up dust and grit with his breath. “You asked for destruction. I gave you destruction. Not my fault you can’t watch your own tail. Sounds to me like I’m just doing my half of the job.”

Well, there’s the confirmation they were looking for. So these two are working together to cause destruction aboveground? Who even is the steelix? Tobias knows he would remember seeing him around. Not easy to miss a ‘mon that big.

“Can it. Unless you suddenly figured out how to use rain dance, the quakes won't cause half as much damage without me. Heck, remember that I’m the whole reason this operation even works! You wouldn’t get paid without me.”

The steelix rumbles something in response, looking irritated, but Tobias is occupied decoding that information.

Getting paid? The construction crew is making big bucks repairing all of the damages from the quakes, but could money really be the motive behind this?

Pokemon died due to these quakes. And Eddy just…doesn’t care?

Tobias almost doesn’t want to believe it, but the dewott basically admitted it himself. And Eddy is a water type—it would make sense he would know rain dance, would be able to loosen up the soil so the “quakes” do as much damage to the buildings’ foundations as possible. Add on the steelix tunneling around down here right under the town, and they don’t even need moves to cause massive, devastating damage.

Suddenly, Tobias recalls a few moments from the past couple of days in a new light. Eddy turning them away from interrogating Cody, redirecting their investigation when they were getting too close to the real culprit. The dewott slapping down an obscene amount of poké at Deidra’s saloon. Eddy telling his crew so confidently that there won't be any more rain for a while.

Nia’s paw, balanced on his shoulder, tightens. He has a feeling she’s thinking of the same thing. All the clues they missed.

Meanwhile, Eddy and the steelix are still arguing. The dewott is saying something about bringing in more ‘mon to help mine the mirrorstone in these caves and outsource it to another location. He really does only care about the money, doesn’t he?

Tobias stuffs down his anger and pulls back, glad when Nia and Samir quietly follow his lead. His partner stares at him with a pleading, desperate look. Samir glares at him, clearly telling him this won’t end well if they attack.

Tobias hates it, but he knows the skiddo is right. As much as Tobias wants to rip into these jerks, he knows logically that they need to get out of here and get backup from Calder, threat to Rosalind’s info or not. Tobias is confident they could take Eddy in a fight, especially with Samir’s advantage over the water type. But a seasoned steelix, big as a building and powerful enough to burrow so easily through the desert earth? Even Tobias can admit they aren’t ready for that.

But as if the universe itself were out to spite Tobias for such a thought, a pebble slips from the wall they’d just been leaning against. It bounces to the ground, impossibly loud. Tobias freezes, Nia and Samir going wide-eyed and still as well.

Eddy and the steelix fall silent.

Tobias holds his breath, glad that they’d at least ducked back around the lip of the tunnel.

Until he glances up, to one of the clusters of mirrorstone embedded into the tunnel wall across from them. In its reflection, he can see Eddy and the steelix around the corner, clear as day.

Which means the crooks can see them, too.

It’s quiet enough for Tobias to hear the dewott hiss, “Thought I heard something. Take those brats out or we both go down.”

“Run!” Tobias barks, shoving Nia back the way they came. Samir bolts ahead of her.

Behind them the steelix growls and gives chase, making the walls of the tunnel shake. Tobias doesn’t dare look over his shoulder, sprinting as hard as he can and willing Nia not to trip over one of the rocks embedded in the uneven ground.

Somehow, they make it back to the cavern with the rope ladder. Samir is hopping impatiently from hoof to hoof at its bottom. Stupid self-sacrificing grass type, waiting to start climbing after Nia and Tobias so they don’t slow everyone down.

Nia’s ahead of Tobias, longer legs at work, and for a moment Tobias thinks they’re going to make it. It’s Samir—suddenly stopping their nervous movement, confused eyes trained over Tobias’ shoulder—that clues him in that something is wrong.

And Tobias realizes too, once he notices the lack of noise through his lung-ripping gasps.

Why is it so quiet?

Tobias glances over his shoulder, only to see…nothing. No one chasing them. There are only the faint vibrations of the tunnels. Growing stronger, shaking, and then—

The ground beneath their feet crumbles and cracks.

Nia yelps and Samir hurries to her side to steady her. Tobias curses and stumbles, gritting his teeth against the painful tilting of the attack. And this time it is an attack. Tobias can feel it, feel the ground type energy assaulting his very being.

Then, the ground isn’t just shaking and cracking, it’s opening up beneath him. A yawning maw of black that swallows him whole and steals the breath from his lungs.

[ragamine-kin]

this looked a lot better when i was still working on it but oh well

+ alt under cut

[sysig]

Animal collection as a hobby, a perfect fit! (Patreon)

[amirasainz]

So I read a lot of stories similar to my requests. But I just think you are the best author on tumblr, so I wanna ask you😅☺️

Secret marriage with Oscar. They married really young and the drivers reaction. She is always at the races, but just in the shadows. The only one that knows is Charles, because he is Oscars "dad" 😭😍

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Secret marriage

The F1 paddock buzzed with the usual energy and tension. The race weekend was in full swing, and every driver, mechanic, and team member was focused on the task ahead. It was Friday afternoon, and most of the drivers had just finished media sessions and were now lounging around in the driver's hospitality suite, swapping stories and strategies. Oscar was among them, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression.

Nearby, Lando noticed a familiar face in the crowd. A woman, sleek and stylish, with a British Vogue ID around her neck, had been lingering around Oscar’s side of the paddock all day, chatting with him occasionally before darting off to interview other drivers. Lando squinted, intrigued.

“Oi, Oscar,” Lando called out, leaning back in his seat. “Who's that Vogue chick? She’s been following you around like a shadow.”

Oscar glanced up from his phone, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Who, Y/N? She’s just here for work. We know each other pretty well.”

George, who overheard the conversation, raised an eyebrow. “Pretty well? Mate, you guys looked like you were practically whispering sweet nothings before she left the garage.”

Oscar shrugged, but his eyes glinted with mischief. “Maybe we were.”

Lando sat up, fully interested now. “Wait… what? Are you and Miss Vogue dating?”

Oscar chuckled, keeping his cool. “Not exactly.”

Pierre, catching onto the conversation, leaned forward. “Come on, spill the beans! There’s definitely something going on.”

Oscar finally sighed, looking up at his friends with an amused smirk. “Well… actually, Y/N and I… we’re married.”

The room fell silent.

George blinked. “You’re what?”

“Married,” Oscar repeated, his tone casual as ever. “Been married since we turned eighteen, actually.”

The explosion was immediate. Lando gasped, practically jumping out of his seat, while Pierre clapped a hand over his mouth in shock.

“No way!” Lando exclaimed. “You’ve been married this whole time?”

Oscar nodded, barely reacting to the chaos unfolding around him. “Yep. Just never made a big deal out of it.”

“You’re telling me,” George said, his voice high-pitched with disbelief, “that you’ve been secretly married for… what? Three years now?”

“Three and a half, actually,” Oscar replied calmly, clearly enjoying their reactions. “We wanted to keep it private. Just worked out that way.”

Pierre looked like he was about to faint. “Mate, do you realize we never even knew you had a girlfriend, let alone a wife?”

Oscar gave a little shrug. “Guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”

George put his hands on his head. “I thought I was the reserved one around here! But this? Oscar, this is next level. How did we never catch on?”

Oscar chuckled, glancing over at Y/N, who was currently chatting with a journalist a few feet away. “She’s at most of the races. Just… behind the scenes.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Pierre muttered, shaking his head in amazement.

Just then, Charles strolled into the room, looking curious as he caught the tail end of the conversation. “What’s everyone freaking out about?”

Lando grinned, looking ready to explode with excitement. “Charles, you’re not gonna believe this. Oscar’s married! Secretly married, since he was eighteen.”

Charles’s reaction was far more subdued. He simply nodded, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Ah, yes. I know about Y/N.”

The room went silent again as every driver turned to gape at Charles.

“You knew?” George demanded, wide-eyed.

Charles gave them a smug shrug. “Of course. I’ve known for ages. I’m Oscar’s ‘dad,’ remember?” He winked, referencing the Monaco joke that had become a running gag between them. “It’s my job to know these things.”

Oscar snorted, smirking over at Charles. “Guess you can’t keep secrets from your ‘Monaco dad.’”

Lando threw his hands up in the air. “You’re all insane! Charles knows, Oscar’s been married for years, and we’ve all been left out!”

Pierre shook his head, still processing. “Wait, how did you find out, Charles?”

Charles leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin. “Oscar told me after our Monaco podium. Said he needed someone to know in case he ever needed advice. Before we went partying, I met Y/N and let me tell you, she is a lovely girl. And, you know, as his ‘father’ in the paddock, it was only a matter of time.” He gestured grandly, making everyone laugh.

George narrowed his eyes playfully. “So all this time, we could’ve been calling him ‘married man Oscar’ instead of ‘little Oscar’?”

Oscar rolled his eyes, amused. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly a talking point. We wanted to keep things between us. Y/N’s work with Vogue keeps her busy and traveling too, so it worked out.”

Oscar turned his head towards Y/N, calling out softly with his arm outstretched. " Love, came here for a second, please."

Y/N approached just then, noticing the group staring at her with a mix of shock and admiration. “Is everything okay?”

Pierre looked at her, still in awe. “So… you two are really married?”

She glanced at Oscar with a smile, nodding. “Surprise?”

Lando leaned in, grinning like a kid at Christmas. “How have you kept this a secret all this time? You must have some insane spy-level skills.”

Y/N laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. We just wanted to enjoy it without all the attention.”

“Respect,” George said, tipping an imaginary hat to her. “You two might be the most low-key power couple I’ve ever seen.”

Charles looked proud, wrapping an arm around Oscar’s shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, shoving Charles off. “Alright, alright, let’s not make a big thing out of it.”

Lando looked at Oscar, eyes still gleaming. “Mate, this is a big thing! You’ve been living like some kind of undercover superhero. ‘Married Piastri’ is a whole new level of cool.”

Pierre nodded eagerly. “Right? It’s like finding out Clark Kent was Superman all along.”

Oscar chuckled, clearly enjoying his friends’ reactions. “Well, maybe now that you guys know, I’ll bring her around a bit more.”

Lando lit up. “Please! And maybe you can finally get that double date with George and Carmen going!”

George chuckled. “Right, because that’s exactly what we need. A bunch of drivers swapping marriage advice.”

Pierre smirked, nudging Oscar. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, you know. Now everyone’s gonna ask why we’re not secretly married.”

Oscar smirked back. “Hey, don’t blame me. You all had just as much chance to find out as Charles.”

As the group laughed, Y/N leaned into Oscar’s side, whispering, “Well, I guess the secret’s out.”

Oscar grinned, wrapping an arm around her. “Guess so. But I don’t mind. Not if it means we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

Charles rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, alright. Now, can we get back to racing, or are you going to give us a honeymoon slideshow too?”

The group burst into laughter, and Oscar looked around, more comfortable than ever. His secret was out, but he couldn’t be happier to finally share it with his friends.

[darnell-la]

how about old!logan with the filthiest mouth one could ever speak, full with nasty and degrading pet names. just rough and mean logan treating the reader 🫠🫠

note: this takes place in the Honda Odyssey… we can make the man filthier by the way…

———

“Well, you guys are fucking stupid, so, it’s not a surprise we’re lost,” y/n crossed her arms in the back seat as Wade drove through the woods, trying to get to the place Nicepool had me roomed for them to form a team.

“You ain’t the smartest sheep either. Batting your fuckin’ eyelids at Jonny,” Logan scoffed next to her before leaning back in his to rest.

After Wade had told him that there might not be a way to save his world, he’s been in a bad mood. Ever since she met him, he’s been in a bad mood.

“Yeah, but sadly he’s not here with us, right Wade?” Y/n sarcastically asked, making Wade sigh loudly. “He should have said those things about her!” Wade shouted.

“This whole trip is fucking ridiculous. Like seriously, Wade. Why the fuck did you bring me along to save this drunk fuck!?” Y/n complained, making Logan chuckle.

“To save your shitty world,” Logan said under his breath. “Hey! That’s my world too!” Wade argued. “Yeah — That’s why I said that shit,”

“Not like yours is better,” y/n mumbled, making Logan snap his head towards her. Y/n continued looking out of the window, not caring how he felt about her words.

“The fuck you say?” The man asked in a clearly angry tone. “Alright, let’s just cool our dicks and think about a place to eat at after we get out of this shit hole, hm?” Wade asked the two, but they both ignored him.

“Nah, I wanna hear what the little bitch has to say,” Logan called the young lady out of her name, making her snap his own neck at him. “Bitch!? No wonder you could never keep a woman. In every universe!” She shot for his heart.

“That’s something you don’t have to worry about because Ian pickin’ a little brat like you,” Logan tried saying something back in an instant like her comment didn’t hurt. He knew calling her out of her name was shitty, but he’s going through it right now.

The man was pulled from his universe being told he had a chance to save it. Not even two hours later, he was told it was an educated wish.

“Not like you can get in my pants anyways limp dick,” y/n spat, making the man chuckle. He was cocky. He always has been, and his age wasn’t going to throw that away.

“You’re an easy little girl. You would even be able to handle me,” the man looked the girl up and down, giving a look that made her roll her eyes. “You fuckin’ wish,” she said before turning back to the window.

“Oh, honey bun, he does! Maybe y’all can fuck it out in here before we make it home. Got a long way to go,” Wade almost sang.

The two went silent, not declining or accepting. They were just angry, and Wade swore having a small fuck-session would help.

Y/n felt eyes on her through the silence. She told herself not to look back, but she had to. She wanted to see the man’s face, and god, was he fine. She hated admitting to it, but he was.

The way he looked at her legs, made her shift in her seat, growing nervous from the older man’s gaze.

“As I said — Little girl can’t handle it,” Logan finally looked up at the girl with a smirk, smelling the way she grew wet in seconds, and she didn’t know he could. She was clueless which made the situation funnier to him.

“I can handle more than you think. Your dick probably wouldn’t be able to stand up anyway, so stop lookin’ at me like that you perv,” y/n tried covering her legs, but there was no use.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” the man rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “Do it yourself, coward,” y/n said under her breath. She thought she was quiet enough until his head snapped back at her and Wade gasped.

“Oh, you nasty little peanut,” Wade giggled. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?” Logan asked, giving that stupid smirk again. “What!? I never said that,” y/n lied, trying to think of something to stop this conversation.

“Oh, but you did, bub,” Logan felt like he was shifting closer, but y/n kept her eyes off of him. “Don’t go silent on me now, bub. If you need a little cock to fix that attitude, I can do it,”

The instant confidence he had, made the girl nervous. What the fuck is she going to do?

“Don’t need cock,” the girl spoke quietly. “I think you do,” the man’s hand was now on the grips thighs, gripping it a bit rough to get a reaction.

Y/n turned and swung, going to hit the man somewhere, but he got her fist and pushed it away before hovering over her body.

“You’re feisty for a girl who’s soaking wet,” the man said, confusing y/n. “You can smell her that bad!?” Wade asked, wanting to know if all. “Oh, yeah, and she smells sweet,” Logan admitted as his hands tugged on her belt.

“Let’s see if I’m right,” Logan ripped y/n’s belt off and shorts down her legs, exposing her pretty lace panties. “Logan! Fuckin’ get off!” Y/n fought back, but he knew she could do better.

“You sure? Kinda looks a little messy down here,” the man laughed at her girl as he spews her legs, seeing the dark spot grow. Before she could say another word, he ripped her panties off, making her yell at him more.

“Pretty little cunt. Maybe if you weren’t so bitchy, I’d eat it, but I have different plans for you today,” Logan wiped a finger across her lips before taking them to his mouth to suck.

“Yep — Sweeter than peach, Wade. Didn’t know you had sluts as friends,” Logan laughed again as he fumbled with his own belt. “Logan!” Y/n still shouted, kicking and slapping but he had his single hand pinning her shoulder down.

“Look on the bright side, peanut — You’ll get some dick and maybe that’ll energize you for our fight?” Wade said about anything to hide the fact he loved hearing Logan get the way he gets.

“Fuck you, Wade!” Y/n yelled at the man. “Nah uh, only I do that to you,” y/n almost forgot about Logan until she looked down, seeing his cock out in his head, stoking and leaking pre cum.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard. You know how good you look fighting? How pretty you are yappin’ that damn mouth? Could only think about you under me -- where you belong,”

Logan struggled but made his way in between her legs. “Fuck you! Fuck you, a-and Wade! You’ll last two seconds,” y/n tried laughing at the man to seem tough as usual, but he shut her right up with a hard thrust into her cunt.

“What was that? Two seconds? If I lasted a short time, it’s because this cunts so fuckin’ soaked, not because I’m old, baby,”

Y/n’s hands pushed at the man’s stomach, trying to slow him down and stop him from pushing hitting the right spot with each thrust he gave.

“S-Stop!” The girl whined already, feeling the knot in her stomach build and her breathing get spotty. He was huge and hard. Harder than she thought a man his age could be.

“Don’t think you want that, baby. No, you want me to fuck this pretty little girl till she cried and leaks on the seat,” Logan whispered in her ear as his own breath became heavy.

“God, you guys are hot. Love the play date you guys are having! Maybe give me a review after the Uber ride. Tell me if the seats felt comfy and if y’all had enough room to fuck like rabbits with rabies,” Wade seemed excited.

“Hear that, babe? Gonna tell Wade how good I fuck this pussy? C’mon, tell him. Tell him how hard your squeeze my cock,”

Y/n hated his cock voice in her ear but loved it at the same time. He knew exactly how she’d like it. Maybe by her attitude, he knew she needed someone with the same energy to pound her.

“No c-chance,” the girl stuttered through her teeth as she tried glaring at the man, but her head instantly fell back after he gave one small pound, telling her to get rid of the attitude.

“You’re gonna do it eventually. Sluts like you can’t forget a good cock,” and he was right. This was going to be the best sed she’s had ever.

“Gonna go beggin’ Wade to come get me to fuck you. Shit, since I have to stay in the bullshit you call your world, I’ll just come over to your place myself. Burry my cock in this cunt till you pass out,”

“L-Logan,” y/n dug her nails into the man’s shoulders, trying to hold tight as her orgasm felt near. “Oh, you like that? Like the thought of a dirty old man fuckin’ this so-called clean pussy, hm? Gonna let me breed this little princess whenever I want? Even if I piss you off?”

“N-No, you fucking suck at this!” Y/n breathed heavily, keeping her orgasm together so she wouldn’t give him what she wanted.

“God, she’s fuckin’ petty,” Wade said as Logan let out a little chuckle. The man shifted in the van, lifting her legs over his shoulders before punching his right claw into the roof of the van.

Y/n jumped, not used to having a mutant like him around. “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn’t hurt a pretty girl like you. Too valuable and tight,” Logan grabbed between the back of y/n’s head and neck to lift her to, fixing her to lean into him.

“Before I fuck you ass dumb, do you want to take anything you said back?” Logan looked down at the girl whose legs rested on his shoulder and cock grazed her entrance, waiting to be squeezed again.

“You fuck like a dead pig,” y/n spat. Right after, the man took one good slam into her, watching her legs part and scream. Logan pulled her head back up, making her look into his dark eyes.

“Loudmouth for a loud screamer,” the man smirked before moving his hips, thrusting into the girl with all the strength he had. He pulled her back to life whenever she tried pushing away or leaning her head back.

“Good fuckin’ pussy — Fuck! — Maybe I’ll excuse that bitch tone of yours,” the man couldn’t deny his could she felt and sounded.

Before, y/n thought she could hold herself in, but she knew Logan would get what he wanted in this new angle and harder pounding. He knew this from the start.

“C’mon, bub — I know you wanna cum. Keep squeezing around me like I wouldn’t notice,” he laughed at her. Teasing he. “N-Not cumming,” y/n assured the man, but even Wade didn’t believe her.

“I can see how the man has you in a full-on butter-salted pretzel position. You’re cumming, peanut,” Wade said, only egging Logan on knowing anyone who looked at her right now could tell she was close.

“No, I’m not!” Y/n pathetically whined. Logan leaned down to the girl's face, slightly touching her lips as his hot breath burned her nostrils.

“Don’t cum then, bub,” Logan said as he picked up his pace. “Don’t cum, and you win. You win your little bitch fight, and we can move on with our day,” Logan kept increasing.

“Don’t cum, and you’re right about my limp old dick,” Logan now growled. “Don’t cum, and I won’t come into your little home and eat that pussy,” y/n eyes rolled back as his hands dug into the back of her neck.

“Don’t cum, and I won’t fuck you like this every day to satisfy your needs, baby. Don’t cum, and I’ll have to leave this pretty little body alone forever,”

“Can’t breed it. Can’t kiss it. Can’t pound it. Can’t do anything I want to it,” y/n whined loudly at the man’s words, finally releasing the man’s cock.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You need me. You fuckin’ want this old dick,” Logan’s lips crashed into her, kissing her roughly as she cried at the pace he kept ducking her in.

“Goddam, she cums a lot!” Wade said with excitement, loving the animal coming out of Logan. He knew y/n needed something like this in his life. That totally isn’t the reason why he brought her along.

“So fuckin’ good, baby. Best fuckin’ cunt I’ve fucked. So damn tight and sweet. Need you after all this. Needa have you with me forever,”

Y/n didn’t plan for this to happen. She doesn’t plan to let Logan fuck her like this in the back of Nicepools Honda Odyssey. She didn’t plan for Logan to form an attachment issue with her.

“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill this girl up. Gonna keep you with me forever. Can’t leave. Don’t care how old I am, you belong with me. You’re made for me. Pussy’s molded to only take my cock,”

Logan’s hips bucked a few times before he pushed all the way into the young girl, spilling into her with a loud animalistic groan.

The top of the roof was ripped with how many times his claws punched in and out of it. Logan’s fingers bruised the back of y/n’s neck. Her lips even have a small scratch from the hard he kissed. She tastes so fucking good.

[chithereader]

playing it cool / aaron hotchner

[credits to the owners of these photos!!]

word count: 1.9k

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

genre: fluff!!!!!!

cw: sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, so much of aaron’s thoughts because we know that man thinks soo much more than he speaks!!

a/n: hiiii this is my third post so far and tbh i was so nervous to post the first two as that was my first time ever posting any of my writings anywhere!! but i’ve been getting so much more love on those than expected and i just really wanted to say thank you so much for all the likes and reblogs <33 i was honestly only expecting less than 10 notes as a newbie and reaching up to 200 is so so so wonderful. and especially for the love of hotch i– ugh!!!!! i already love u all 

The team had worked a straight 5 weeks worth of cases prior, which had warranted Strauss to grant them all a mandatory 3-day rest. This simply meant that for 3 whole days there are no cases, no deadlines, and no new case files. They could come to the office at whatever time they’d like as long as they finished some reports at the end of the day. 

Aaron being Hotch the boss man still aimed to arrive at the office at a reasonable time– 7:30am. To be fair, this is an hour and a half later than when he usually arrives at the office. And in his mind, the earlier he arrives, the more he can get done, and the more he gets done, the earlier he can come home. 

This is the only reason why he is up at 6:00am on a supposed rest day. He did expect that he’d struggle a bit more to drag himself out of bed, knowing you’d be keeping him hostage with limbs that wrap around him in ways he can’t begin to understand, but to his surprise, you weren’t there. 

Dragging his feet across the carpeted floor, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and white shirt fitting him oh-so-snugly, he tries to find you. He’s rubbing the sleep of his eyes as he peeks his head into your shared bathroom. No sign of you. 

He’s covering his mouth as he yawns when he quietly opens the door to Jack’s bedroom–still no sign of you. Remembering his son has been nursing a stomach bug since yesterday, he opened the door further to check on him. No fever. No chills. No sign of discomfort. 

When he’s sure Jack’s okay, he turns around to go back to find where you went. He even checked the backyard as he passed by a window to see if you’re at your favorite swing reading, that perhaps you just woke up early and wanted to feel the morning sun because you claimed it lightens you. 

He smiles a little to himself as he treads downstairs, finally hearing your soft murmurs as you spoke with someone presumably over the phone. As he neared the kitchen he realized that the person on the line was your colleague and friend Tilly, and that she was on speaker phone making it easy to listen in. 

He slows down his steps as he nears the landing and pauses when he gets behind a wall near the kitchen. He doesn’t know what came over him. He doesn’t usually sneak around to eavesdrop, nor did he ever feel the need to especially when it came to you. You tell him everything, prompted and unprompted. 

But perhaps it was the haze of the morning or the curiosity of what could possibly get you out of bed this early when you’re usually the one snoozing away as he’s getting ready for work– he stayed quiet behind that wall and made it his mission to understand the conversation. 

He clears his mind and strains his ear, going as far as making his breaths slow and far apart. 

He hears Tilly giggling, “Don’t get me wrong, Adam from Finance is really cute but.. isn’t he just a little too serious? He’s always got that frown going on.” 

You sigh a little loudly, obvious that it’s a sigh to humor and not of exasperation, “Tilly, you know I love you, but every day you complain about being single. And every other day there’s a decent guy who you always always find that one flaw in that just crosses them off for you forever.” Tilly lets out a sound that’s a mixture of a laugh and a gasp. 

“That is so not tr–” “Oh, Hugh’s just too clean. And Frederick’s too hard, it’s like- scary. Yes, veiny hands are hot but there’s veiny and too veiny, and Jason was just a double too veiny.” 

Aaron momentarily pauses his listening and looks down at his hands, suddenly conscious where he fit in that category. Factoring in his age, his work, and the action he gets from the field– these all show. He tried thinking of a time you could’ve shown any dislike or disgust towards his hands but all he could think of was that one night when he cupped your face and you leaned towards it more, turning slightly to take his thumb into your mou–

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he hears Tilly asking about you leaving, “What time are you getting to the office by the way? I just don’t want to get there without you. Adam might ask about that second date and I just need you as my bluff, my beautiful girl.” He makes a mental note to message Jessica before you both get ready for work. 

“Riiiight. Remind me how many guys have I scared off for you now? And how many times have I helped you scare them off? Besides, I can’t go today and I’ve already told Bobby I’m on leave.” 

In a slight surprise and panic Tilly whines, “What?! Why? You’re such a traitor. You know damn well I get so bored without you.” Aaron didn’t even know you were planning on staying home. You hadn’t mentioned anything about it last night which made him even more curious what made you decide. 

He hears your soft laugh, “Don’t be so dramatic. You’ll manage a day without me. I mean you have to– my son caught a stomach bug yesterday so I just want to make sure he’ll recover completely.” 

Aaron can hear Tilly responding, something about soup and warm baths, but his heart has just stopped so he’s not really processing any new words at the moment. 

My son. My son. My son. My son caught a stomach bug. 

He feels lightheaded. His heart kickstarts again, his pulse is ringing in his ear. He can feel his chest pounding to his heart’s beat. The words that rolled off your lips so effortlessly, so mindlessly, echoes in his head. 

Jack may be young but he is smart. So so smart beyond his years. And he has grown to understand what had happened to his mom Haley, but not once has he– and even you allowed Jack to forget who Haley is and how much she loves him. 

Images of you joining in their traditions of honoring and remembering Haley plays in his head in flashes. You helping Jack arrange a bouquet for Haley’s death anniversary. You helping Jack make a card for her birthday. You mixing the paint to get the right shades as Jack paints a portrait of Haley for his Mothers’ Day homework. 

Aaron had told you everything there was to know about Haley and you’ve listened. He knows you adore her. You adore her for the same reasons he adored her. You understood the space Haley had in his life and in Jack’s life, and not once were you ever jealous, immature, or selfish about it. Even though he would’ve completely understood if you were. 

You were nothing but supportive, and understanding, and loving. Even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when you deserved better. Admittedly, there was a point in time when he struggled with coming to terms with falling in love– with you nonetheless. You’re young, ambitious, brilliant, talented, insanely beautiful, and unfairly kind. 

When the two of you had met, this was his profile: divorced with a kid, recovering from trauma that stemmed from being stabbed multiple times in his own home, emotionally unavailable, annoyingly serious and fatally dull– which really makes him wonder what made you fall in love with him in the first place, and even more so what made you stay even when he was bafflingly dense about how you felt about him.  

He didn’t know how long he was standing there, like a deer caught in headlights. Replaying your words and his memories over and over again, slowly coming to the conclusion that you’re absolutely perfect and he’s absolutely gone for you. 

Slowly coming to his senses, Aaron becomes more aware of the silence. The call must have ended while he was having realizations about things. He rounds the corner silently, getting a feel of where you’re facing. Luckily he guesses right, that you’re facing away from him. 

You were rummaging through the fridge– the vegetable drawer if he had to guess, judging by how much you’re slouching and reaching, and the sound of the glass containers you use to prolong their freshness. 

He quickly surveys the scene- your phone is on the counter, beside it is a chopping board with carrots and onions, a carton of chicken broth, Jack’s favorite dinosaur-shaped pasta, and chocolate milk– the one drink you both know can make Jack feel instantly better, happier. 

His heart pinches again. You got up early to make sure Jack had something to eat for breakfast in time for his medicine. You got up early even though you aren’t planning on going to work. You aren’t going to work because you want to stay with Jack. You called Jack your son. 

With so many things running in his head, he stands quietly observing you finding god knows whatever vegetable. Maybe it's the intensity of his stare or the volume of his thoughts, or maybe he started to breathe loudly– but suddenly you knew he was there. He could tell. 

You slowly straightened your back from when you were leaning. Your hands have stopped rummaging through the drawer, and he could see the goosebumps on your legs and shoulders from the way the sunlight hits you through the kitchen window. 

You turn around slowly, as if you were just caught doing something you aren’t supposed to be doing, “I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” grimacing as if it was a crime to be hot and cute and gut-wrenchingly-sweet. 

“No.” His voice is groggy. Deep and rough given that he just woke up minutes ago and hasn’t really used it since. Looking at you through studying eyes, he clears his throat “Uhm, I woke up to get ready for work and you weren’t there.” 

Aaron suddenly feels a little cold. The thin material of his shirt and pajamas doing little to contain what warmth he has left in his body. Or maybe it’s you, maybe his body has sensed that you’re near and is now craving your warmth, making him feel a magnified amount of its absence.

“Oh.. I’m sorry I just wanted to get ahead of cooking so Jack can have soup before he takes his medicine at 8 and since I was also planning to do some work though I’m on leave, it just made sense to get an early start…” You slow your words, noticing how Hotch is studying you tenfold in the moment, as if you were an apparition, “Are you okay? Did you want soup too? I can pack you some before you go?”

His silence makes you panic a little. You can’t really tell if he’s upset about something or if he’s sleepwalking, “Or you can eat here. I mean– you live here, of course you can eat here. I mean like instead of bringing it to the office– not that if you eat here, you can’t bring some anymore.” 

The longer he stays silent, adoring you, the more you scramble to fill the silence, “I’m just– you know you can do whatever you want. You can eat here, there, anywhere. Unless you don’t want soup. I mean we still have leftover steak, I cou–” 

You pause your rambling because you can see a smile starting to form on his face. A real, big smile. Laugh lines and dimples and all, which makes you smile. Realizing how stupid you were sounding and how funny the situation was becoming, you started giggling.

And just as you think he’s about to join the laughter to make fun of you, his smile softens and he says, “Marry me.” 

part 2 here!!!!!

[wonderjanga]

Super Grandpa

When Superman first made his debut, people were in awe of him. Children and adults alike held awe and wonder for him. As for elderly, they also loved him. As for why? Because he was like the second coming of Captain Marvel. A super who was the hero during the fourties’ to sixties’. Naturally, other people besides the elderly noticed this too. This led to a theory popping up that Superman was Captain Marvel’s son or grandson. Most people were leaning to grandson though because if he was the Captain’s kid, he’d be at least fifty years old now. Not the twenty something year old guy they know. But yeah, people think they’re related, here’s a couple reasons why.

Supes: *being interviewed*

Lois Lane: *holding a mic up for Clark to speak into* “Superman, who would you say inspired you to become a hero?”

Supes: “Uh- I’d say…” *sounds and looks a little embarrassed* “Captain Marvel? I mean, look at me.” *gestures to himself* “I just have more blue than him. Plus, I mean he was my hero as a kid. I had the power to be like him so I decided to put it to use.”

A lot of people thought that sounded like a little kid talking about their parent being their hero, even though Clark was in all actuality, just talking about Marvel being his hero in general.

or

Wondy and Supes: *meeting each other for the first time*

Wondy: *nostalgic smile* “You know, you remind me of my brother.”

Supes: “Brother?”

Wondy: “He went by Captain Marvel?”

Supes: “Wait, seriously?” *bros ecstatic on the inside*

Wondy: “Yes. You look similar. Your suits are similar. Your ideals are similar. I’m sure you two would’ve gotten along wonderfully.” *sounds sad towards the end*

Supes: “I hope so.”

(This is the Wonder Woman that first came to America during WW2)

or

Supes: “Well, I myself have never met Captain Marvel, but my parents actually met him.”

Flash: “Wait, really? Were are your parents also superheroes?”

Supes: “No, they were normal people. He met them when they were teenagers apparently.”

Flash is over here thinking “Okay, so he might not be his dad, but he could be his uncle or cousin.” As for how the Kents knew Billy, he met them when he stopped them from getting into a car crash.

Then the time bubble popped, and Captain Marvel appeared once again. You couldn’t even ask Clark how he got the man to sit down with him at a diner and eat pie with him.

Marvel: “So you’re a hero too?”

Supes: “Yup. I’m part of the Justice League.” *nervously eating his pie*

Marvel: “What’s that? Are they like the JSA?”

Supes: Yes, sir, some of the members from the team actually joined us after they disbanded.

Marvel: “Sir…? Please don’t call me that. Also, they disbanded?”

Supes: “Yeah, during the 80s I think they disbanded.”

Marvel: “Dang… well at least that’s good.”

Supes: “Why would that be good?”

Marvel: “Oh well, the them disbanding part isn’t good, but the fact that you and others stepped up to create another superhero team that could spread hope throughout the states is incredible.” *smiles*

Supes: *absolutely fangirling inside* “You think so?”

Marvel: “Oh, absolutely.”

or

Marvel and Supes: *teamed up to fight some alien*

After the fight…

Marvel: “Gosh! You were just amazing! I’d love to fight with you again.” *smiles and ruffles his hair, cause he’s so darn tall*

Supes: “You could do that if you join the league, you know?” *internally screaming because his idol just ruffled his hair*

Marvel: “I really should. I’d thought about joining the JSA before the whole… y’know, suspendium.”

Supes: *trying to sound nonchalant* “We’d love to have you.”

People thought Marvel looked like a proud dad while Supes looked so happy to be praised.

So yes, the Marvel and Superman being family theories are strong.

Meanwhile, during all of this, Billy just thinks this guy is a cool dude.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Heating pads

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: Your good time in Portimao being interrupted by your endo flare up again.

Warnings: endometriosis, cramps, love and care, infertility and baby talk

A/N: Wrote this last night and I poured into it some of my personal experience with endo, more this time. Surgery worked a little for me, it gave me a three months without cramps. Every body is different, every treatment works differently for us. But we’re in this together, endo sisters!

For @amberjazmyn 🧡

Don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

The weather at Portimao circuit wasn’t so pleasant as it was nearing the end of the year. F1 season was long gone and Max was able to finally avert his attention to his other hobbies (not gonna mention it’s still racing, but for his kinda own team).

Meeting with all the people around Verstappen.com Racing was a great one, especially with Thierry Vermeulen, because he was so funny, but humble at the same time.

You were always amazed how Max was so good at handling his many duties and hobbies at the same time. He was a great mentor, passing his legacy and wisdom and you watched how his temper calmed down a little through the years.

It wasn’t long ago when you moved to his apartment at Monaco, making your relationship more official after three years of being there and nowhere, between your job and his races. One day you decided enough is enough and you didn’t want to face your life alone anymore. That stirred some rumours through his fan base and also your parents weren’t able to hold back in their questions about you two starting a family. Truth was that you and Max weren’t exactly against having children, but the main problem was your endometriosis. Severe pain episodes, ending in ER may times, being neglected by doctors, saying it’s only in your head and that you need to sleep it off. You thought, for so many years, that you’re just insane, but after Max got through one of your endo flare ups with you, he got you through many doctor appointments, to the best specialists in the field, where you finally heard your diagnosis.

The surgery date was set after the new year’s, when Max would be still around to help you get back on your feet and mend your wounds with his love and care. But to that date your body just decided that you need to suffer.

You stood in the garage, watching how Max talked with the engineers and Thierry about some issues, his yapping always getting more and more interesting, when you felt a cramp in your lower back. It wasn’t unusual, you always had similar, and you brushed it off as some kind of back pain, most likely from standing for too long.

Watching Max racing at the empty track was always fun, he gave it his all, enjoying his time and it made you genuinely smile. But now you were pale, your forehead getting a little sweaty, same as your whole body. Feeling the need to sit down, you understood immediately, when the pain shot through your abdomen, pooling at your right side, that stretching burning sensation ghosting to your lower back. Trying to play it cool, you swallowed hard, smiling at everybody around.

About two hours later, Max was done with the testing, leaving the car to Thierry and he went to look through some performance reports, when he spotted you sitting at the bench, having that weird expression on your face like you were trying so hard to hide something, but failing miserably.

“Hey, love.. are you okay?”

His hand went to your cheek and you quickly shot him a look full of pain. He knew that look, seeing it more frequently in past weeks.

“Come here.” Without further words, he grabbed your hand and led you through the corridors to your car outside, where you had your things. Sitting you in the backseat, he quickly went to the trunk, rummaging through his bag, coming back after a while with some packages.

“Max, it’s okay, I can manage it.” You tried to protest but he dismissed you.

“Let me take care of you, I’m prepared.” Sitting beside you at the backseat, he opened both packages, shaking the contents a little with an approving hum. Heating pads. Your eyes went wide with surprise, but then your face softened, your eyes nearly welled with tears.

Warming his hands with the pads a little, he carefully lifted up your hoodie along with your top, to get to your bare abdomen, placing one pad under the waistband of your pants and the other at your lower back. You were always taken aback, how he remembered the location of your pains, where it hurts the most. After he was sure he placed pads securely, he pulled down your top and hoodie.

“Does it feel good?” Cupping your cheek, he had a concern written all over his face and you just nodded. With soft hum, he wrapped his hands around you, getting you closer to his chest, holding you tight against him, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Thank you, Maxie..” your sweet murmur made him smile, your hands hugging his warm and huge body like a teddy bear, the heating pads bringing you comfort you needed.

“Anything for you, my love.. I would go to the end of the world if it meant for you to be in less pain.” Max kissed your temple softly, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’ve done so much for me in this case, I don’t know how I deserved this.”

“You deserve the world, darling. And those pains.. I would do anything to take it on myself instead of you. I hate to see you contorted by it. Packing those heating pads it’s less than I can do for you, to make it easier.”

“You really changed my life, Max.”

“Oh, baby. You changed mine. A lot. I wasn’t this happy like I am beside you. I never forget that moment you smiled at me at that coffee shop in London, because you absolutely stole my breath.”

You chuckled softly, but the slight shot of pain made you wince a little.

“Can you please rub my back a little? It helps also..”

Max just nodded, sneaking his hand under your top, his warm hand rubbing the heat into your skin slowly and gently, making you relax more.

“You know, when we bought this car back then, I thought that it will be different action we’ll be doing on the backseat..” his voice was laced with teasing, trying to make you smile.

“Well.. I thought so too, but I can’t even imagine doing it right now.”

“No, love, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re in discomfort and never in the right mind I would try to make a move on you like this.”

Max liked being intimate with you, your chemistry being something undeniable when you two got to bed, but he respected you and your body. He would rather not have sex with you for weeks than to cause you pain.

“I know, I know, sorry. But we can try after I’m healed from surgery. And there can be a little miracle after. Like we talked many times before. Little Verstappen tapping around.”

It was true happy smile he saw on your face in a while. His heart skipped a beat at the idea of having a baby with you.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, love. And whatever doesn’t cause you pain.”

His soft lips kissing your nose in the most lovely way was something only you could see. To the world he was that unbeatable lion on the track, dominating champion. But with you he was a caring, loving boyfriend, who would die for you in every way possible.

[clarkeyshill]

late night talking

george clarke x fem reader

summary: george yaps whilst you try to sleep

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The bedroom was quiet aside from the hum of the fan that was cooling the room along side the drumming of George’s fingers on the duvet. He was sat with his back against the headboard and his knee bent, his gaze dropped down to your sleeping figure.

George gently tapped your shoulder making you stir as you tried to fight waking up, “Are you awake?” He asked through a whisper.

You murmured a ‘no’ pulling the quilt over your head trying to fall back to sleep.

George hummed turning his attention back to the ceiling as he started to drum on his knees again.

You rolled your eyes flipping over burying your head into curve of your boyfriends waist, George smiled letting his hand dropped to your hip.

As you slowly drifted back to sleep you were jolted back awake as you felt a jab into your rib, “George.” You grumbled, “go to sleep, please.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

You felt the bed wiggle indicating that he shrugged. You flopped over onto your back with a huff, “Go on then.”

George grinned reaching over you to turn the lamp on before you glanced over at him, “Imagine if there was an apocalypse,” he started, you squeezed your eyes shut pretending to imagine it making a giggle leave George’s lips, “who would you choose to be on your team?”

“How many people can I have?”

“Four people.”

“Okay,” you nodded, tapping your chin as you thought carefully, “you obviously.”

George pumped his fist in the air celebrating, “I would’ve been so offended if you didn’t pick me.”

You laughed shimmying closer to him, “And then I’d pick Liv because otherwise I’d be bored.”

A chuckle left George’s mouth as he started to play with your hair twirling it softly between his fingers, “Two more people.”

“Bach, so Liv doesn’t get lonely.” You added, thinking through your list of friends trying to decide who else you would pick, “and then I’d pick maybe…”

You hummed, “I don’t know who else I would pick.”

“Neither of the Arthur’s?” George asked curiously.

You shook your head with a laugh, “no, tv would be too analytical for me, and hill is injured and would whine the whole time.”

George let out a laugh making you smile up at him, “What about Chris?”

“Maybe,” you nodded, thinking about it for a moment, “Alright, I’d take Chris because he can cook.”

“Fair enough.”

You looked over at your boyfriend expectantly waiting for his answer, “What about you, princess?” You teased, earning a glare from your boyfriend.

“If we’re thinking in a practical sense; I’d take Reev, Harry, and Chris.” He answered, counting them out on his fingers, “But if we’re talking in a don’t care if i die way; I’d take you…”

“Yeah. brilliant, thank you.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest earning a laugh.

“And then I’d take Arthur Hill, Max and probably Arthur TV as well.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “that’s lovely.”

George laughed once again moving to lay down, “I have another question.”

You nodded turning on your side to face him, “What’s that?”

“When did you realise you wanted to be with me?” He asked, looking into your eyes adoringly noticing your cheeks darken at the question.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.” You muttered, dropping your head down, “I always found you attractive I guess.”

“Obviously.” He joked, ticking your waist making you squirm.

“Stop,” you pushed his hand away with a laugh, “Maybe after my birthday.”

“What? This year? Honey, we’ve been together for 2 years.”

You slapped his bicep gently, “be serious will you.”

“After my 21st, we had been talking for a few months at that point, and you were chatting away to my parents and dancing with my baby sister and it just made me think of you differently.”

George smiled softly at you brushing your hair from your face, “That’s cute.” He cooed, kissing your forehead softly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You hummed, turning around so your back was pressed against his chest, “can I go back to sleep now?”

“Of course.” He smiled, kissing the crown of your head before turning off the lamp.

[theemporium]

[4.4k] upon meeting their captain's new girlfriend, some of the devils are convinced there is something supernatural about her. others aren't. jack deems it his job to prove it.

[find other fright night specials here]

.

“She is hiding something.”

Jonas watched the way Jack slumped onto the couch, wiggling his way between himself and Timo. He also watched the way Timo took a long sip from his beer, pretending like he hadn’t heard what Jack just said despite the boy staring at him expectantly. 

“Who’s hiding something?” Jonas asked, despite knowing he would regret even opening his mouth. Which was confirmed even more when Jack’s head snapped around, a glint in his eyes that made Jonas a little uncomfortable.

“Cap’s new girl.” 

Jonas blinked before raising brows. “You mean the girl we just met for the first time half an hour ago?” 

“Yes, her,” Jack confirmed with a nod, frowning. “Geez, you think Nico would two time someone? God, Siegs, he’s a Capricorn, not a monster.” 

Jonas’ nose scrunched. “I have not drunk enough for you to start talking nonsense. Where’s Luke, I need a translator.”

Jack jabbed his side with his obscenely pointy elbows in response.

“Ouch,” Jonas hissed. 

“But I’m telling you,” Jack insisted, leaning back against the couch. “She’s weird.” 

“Dude,” Dawson muttered from the armchair beside them. “Not cool.” 

“You literally don’t know her,” Jonas pointed out. “And you’re also the last person to call someone weird.”

“Not like bad weird,” Jack huffed. “Just…suspicious weird.” 

Timo groaned. “Someone make him stop.”

“Suspicious weird?” Nate repeated, his brows raised like he was thoroughly amused by the whole conversation. “Suspicious how?” 

Jack lifted his chin. “Suspicious in the supernatural way.” 

Nate let out a boisterous laugh in response.

“Jack,” Jonas sighed deeply, pressing his fingers against his temples like it would rid him of the thumping pain that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the boy next to him. “What in loving fuck are you talking about?”

“Ignore him,” Luke piped up as he appeared from thin air, moving around the gangle of stretched out legs before settling down on the armrest of Dawson’s armchair. “He’s been watching loads of Vampire Diaries right now. He is delusional.” 

“It’s a seasonal show,” Jack grumbled.

“It’s giving you stupid ideas,” Timo retorted. “What, you think Cap is shacking it up with some vampire chick?”

“Well, nobody said vampire. I haven’t narrowed it down yet. Feels rude to assume, you know?” Jack said. “But she’s something.”

“She’s Nico’s girlfriend,” Jonas stated bluntly. “And this is probably why he waited so long to introduce her to us. Because you’re insane.”

“Or because she knows we will find out what she’s hiding,” Jack insisted, his eyes narrowed at the scene across the room. 

Jonas turned his head to catch a glimpse of what Jack was looking at, just to find Nico tucked away in the corner of the room with one arm around you. He kept you plastered to his side, a fond smile on his lips and a look of pure adoration in his eyes as he listened to you whisper something to him. It was a sweet sight, and very lacking in the supernatural aspect. 

“On the very slim chance she is,” Nate started. 

Jonas groaned. “Don’t encourage him.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Nate finished, his eyes fixed on Jack’s pondering expression.

“Well,” Jack shrugged. “I’m his A. I gotta make sure he’s safe.” 

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself,” Timo waved him off.

“Not if she’s a siren. I’ve seen what those things can do—”

“In a TV show made over a decade ago.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

…

All in all, no one had given much thought into Jack’s insane theory. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, there had been a few more interactions between you and the team but Jonas had assumed Jack had realised how delusional he was being and dropped it. That was his mistake for thinking Jack was anything close to self aware. But in Jonas’ humble opinion, every interaction with you had been completely normal and completely human.

And Jack had seemed to think so too until the Devils Family Skate Day came up. 

“Big day, huh?” Nate teased as he walked into the locker room, giving Nico a playful nudge as he walked past his stall. 

Nico lifted his head, brows furrowing together a little but he smiled nonetheless. “I mean, yeah, I guess.” 

Nate raised his brows. “Wow, Cap, pretty sure you are meant to be a bit more hyped about your girl meeting your family for the first time. Your folks flew over, didn’t they?” 

“Well, yeah,” Nico smiled but shrugged his shoulders. “But uh, they aren’t meeting her today.” 

Jonas paused what he was doing, somewhat surprised. “She isn’t coming today?”

Nico shook his head but Jack opened his mouth before he could say anything. 

“What? How come? I thought you two were serious now,” Jack questioned, a weird glint in his eyes that Jonas didn’t like the look of at all. “You know, she hasn’t been to any games either, has she? Is she not a hockey fan?” 

“Stop interrogating,” Jonas grumbled. 

“No, she is but,” Nico paused, waving his hand like the motion meant something. “She’s not feeling great today so she is staying home.” 

“She’s sick?” Jack asked. 

“Probably Nico’s cooking,” Timo snorted.  

“She just feels a bit…uh, what’s the word…sensitive?” Nico answered, his brows furrowed together like he was thinking hard about his response. “She’ll be better for the dinner at Pally’s house though, don’t worry.” 

Jack’s face lit up. “The dinner at Pally’s?” 

Nico shot him a weird look. “Yes, Jack, the one you know about too because you’re in the group chat.”

Jack didn’t seem fazed. “The one on Thursday?” 

“Yes?” 

“Thursday night?”

“Is there a joke I’m missing?” Nico retorted but nodded. “Yes, the one on Thursday night. It’s nothing contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Jack responded, absolutely gleeful. 

But Nico decided not to question it further—because he was a smart man—and instead continued to gear up before he made his way out onto the ice, stepping up as captain to be the first one on the ice for the cameras.

It took less than thirty seconds after Nico walked out before Jack broke.

“I fucking knew it!” 

Heads turned in the locker room, a mix of confused and baffled faces staring at the boy but it was Jonas who sighed deeply and took one for the team, instead of ignoring Jack like his conscience was telling him to do. 

“Knew what?” 

“She’s a vampire!” 

Jonas blinked. “Excuse me?” 

“Cap’s girl!” Jack insisted, almost giddy in his seat. “She’s a vampire!”

“I thought you didn’t want to make any assumptions,” Jonas deadpanned. 

“Well, I’ve assumed now and my assumption is right,” Jack replied, a little snotty when he did. “She’s a vampire. It’s so obvious.”

“I am gonna regret asking this but,” Jonas paused, taking a deep breath like he was preparing himself. “How is it obvious?” 

Jack shot him a look. “Dude.”

Jonas raised his brows in response. 

“We never see her during the day,” Jack stated, as if that made his way of thinking any clearer to Jonas. 

“Oh shit,” Nate murmured, nodding. “Hughesy has a point.”

“No, he does not. Stop encouraging this,” Jonas sighed before turning back to Jack. “What the fuck are you on about?” 

“How many times have we met her?” Jack questioned, that odd glint in his eyes shining brighter than before. It was very disconcerting. 

“Uh, like five?” 

“Uh huh,” Jack nodded, grinning. “And what’s the common denominator with each of those meetings?” 

Jonas didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “You know what denominator means?” 

“Shut up and answer the question.” 

Jonas huffed. “I don’t know, you were watching her like a creep?” 

“Observing in the name of science,” Jack corrected before leaning over to smack Jonas’ arm. “Dude, we only ever saw her at night. We have never met her during the day. Nico has only brought her for dinners.” 

Jonas blinked. “So that makes her a vampire?” 

“Nico said so himself!” Jack exclaimed. “He said she was feeling sensitive!” 

“You feel sensitive after one rum and coke,” Nate countered. 

“Low blow, Bas.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Jonas grumbled, shifting his attention back to lacing his skates and getting the rest of his gear on before one of the media staff came in to yell at them, “She isn’t a vampire, Jack. Drop it.”

“I’m gonna prove it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Just wait and see, Siegs.”

…

Jack’s first attempt at proving that his assumption was correct actually happened at Pally’s dinner that Thursday. 

It was a laidback get-together, something to keep team morale high with not as much effort, considering hitting restaurants around Jersey wouldn’t be the most relaxing or lowkey environment most of the team desired on their off days. Every once in a while, one of the older guys with the bigger houses offered their place up and everyone brought something for the table. 

Jonas made the mistake of assuming Luke would keep his older brother in line. 

Because Luke did not, in fact, keep his brother in line. If anything, half of the team were encouraging his snooping and theorising. Well, mostly Nate who kept sending Jack bullshit articles that Jonas was pretty sure were just Twilight fan websites. 

“Ready to eat dirt?”

Jonas frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s what you brought with you, Pally’s kids are eating with us.” 

“I—” Jack sighed, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t bring dirt, Jonas. It’s an expression. I’m asking if you are ready to accept that you are wrong.”

“Is this about the vampire thing?” Jonas questioned.

“Glad to know you think there are multiple options of things I can prove you wrong on,” Jack retorted, grinning boyishly. “Listen, this is foolproof. Trust me.”

Jonas did not trust him a single bit. 

He also made the mistake of taking his eyes off Jack for longer than thirty seconds—to have a very nice conversation with Pally’s wife about the lasagna dish she made—when he realised the boy was heading straight towards where you and Nico were sitting on one of the couches in the living room. 

“Oh fuck,” Jonas muttered, his feet already moving in that direction.

“You guys have to try this, it’s my mother’s recipe,” Jack announced as soon as he was in front of you both, extending the plate towards you and ripping the foil off the plate. 

Nico blinked. “Garlic bread?” 

“Yup,” Jack answered happily, popping the ‘p’ a little more because he was obnoxious like that.

“It looks like garlic bread from the store,” Jonas commented, standing by Jack’s side with his hand on his elbow, like he was ready to yank the boy away.

“Rude,” Jack sniffled. “It’s been passed down in my family for years.” 

Somewhere from the other couch, Luke snorted loudly. 

“Try a bit,” Jack insisted, pushing the plate closer towards you. “It’ll taste great with the lasagna. Promise.” 

You looked at the plate of garlic bread with weary eyes before flashing an apologetic smile. “I’ll have to pass this time round, sorry.” 

Jack downright beamed in response. “Is that so?” 

“Don’t want to eat anything too heavy,” you explained, lifting your plate to show the few appetisers you had nibbled on. “You’ll have to bring it to the next dinner though, it smells great.” 

“I am sure it does,” Jack grinned, not getting a chance to say much more before Jonas took pity on himself and Nico’s discombobulated face, dragging the younger boy away from everyone else. 

“Garlic? Really?” Jonas deadpanned once they were far enough away.

“Two-zero, team vampire,” Jack said smugly, picking up a piece of garlic bread and taking a large bite from it. “Just admit I’m right.”

“You need help.” 

…

The next attempt happened a week later. 

You had finally managed to make it to a game—a late game, much to Jack’s delight—and the excitement was clear on Nico’s face. Along with the hint of nerves. But the boys were more focused on the shock of seeing Nico walking into the locker room in a fucking turtleneck. 

“What?”

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Jesper managed to ask, considering the rest of the guys were staring at their captain like he had grown another head.

“It’s stylish,” Nico huffed, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers along the collar of his turtleneck. “Thought I’d switch it up from the shirt and ties.” 

Timo raised his brows in amusement. “Did your missus get it for you?” 

“Why does that matter? I wanted to wear it,” Nico retorted.

Jack smacked Jonas’ thigh to gain his attention. “Aha!” 

Jonas turned his head. “Aha?” 

“Aha!” Jack repeated, keeping his voice low as he watched Nico from the other side of the locker room. “You know why he’s really wearing it, right?” 

“Because he is whipped?” Nate supplied from the other stall beside Jonas.

“Well, maybe,” Jack murmured, shrugging his shoulders. “Or maybe because he is hiding something.” 

“You need to get a hobby,” Jonas grumbled. 

“Like what?” Nate questioned.

“A bite mark,” Jack whispered with wide eyes.

“Shit, you think she’s making Cap one of her own?” Nate murmured, letting out a breath of disbelief. 

“Or she is feeding from him,” Jack added.

“You both need to get a hobby,” Jonas decided, shoving both of them back to get ready for warmups. 

For what it’s worth, none of them manage to catch a proper glimpse of Nico’s neck before they leave the locker room or even after the game.

…

During a small break between games where the boys were in Jersey for longer than three days, Nico had invited the whole team over for a housewarming party in his new place—the one he was sharing with you.

Jonas had mostly forgotten about the vampire nonsense because Jack hadn’t brought it up in the last few weeks, most of the boys far more focused on the games as they approached the end of the year. They wanted the best chances running into the new year and into playoffs, they wanted to utilise these games whilst their bodies didn’t feel too wrecked and tired. 

It was his own mistake for assuming the season would preoccupy the boy enough to forget it completely.

“Just a heads up, you should probably babysit Jack tonight.”

Jonas’ shoulders tensed slightly as he turned to look at Dawson with a frown. “Why? What is he planning?”

Dawson just flashed him a sheepish smile, shrugging before he quickly went to hide in the corner where Luke and Simon were sitting. 

Jonas let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling like some higher being would explain how in loving fuck he managed to be the one to babysit Jack’s vampire shenanigans before he pushed himself off the couch he was sitting on. He gripped the beer bottle in his hand, wondering if it would be worth grabbing another bottle before he started his hunt.

All things considered, it didn’t take long to find Jack considering the apartment itself wasn’t very big. For a second, Jonas thought maybe Dawson was trying to wind him up (it would not be the first time Luke had put the boy up to it). Until he saw Jack thrusting a gift bag towards you.

“Here we go,” Jonas grumbled.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you said with a smile, looking so genuinely surprised and touched by Jack’s thoughtfulness.

“It’s just a little something,” Jack shrugged. “Living with a hockey player and all that sweaty gear can be gross sometimes, I thought a candle would be something acceptable and useful.”

Jonas frowned at his wording.

“Oh,” you let out a noise of surprise as you pulled the candle from the bag, blinking a few times too many. “That’s really sweet of you. I’ll just go put this somewhere for safekeeping.”

“Nonsense!” Jack grinned as he reached into the bag, pulling out a box of matches. “We can light it now.”

You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “There’s really no need—” 

“Plus there’s a high chance someone will set their clothes on fire if we have an open flame,” Jonas jumped in, pausing for a moment before he frowned. “Again.”

“You could barely notice,” Jack scoffed.

“Jesper had no pants for the rest of the night,” Jonas retorted before flashing you a smile. “You should probably hide the matches too.”

“On it,” you said with a smile, rushing out the room like you couldn’t leave fast enough.

Jonas shifted his attention to the younger boy. “Really?”

“Vampires hate fire,” Jack explained with a casual shrug. “She’s just proving that I’m right.” 

“You are proving shit,” Jonas grumbled in response, shaking his head. “Stop scaring the poor girl before she gets a restraining order on you.”

“You know I’m right!” 

“I literally can’t think of something I disagree with more.” 

…

Jack Hughes was determined to prove that his captain was dating a vampire. 

He wasn’t like…anti-supernatural or anything like that. He just couldn’t quite seem to understand how some of his other teammates (or well, mostly Jonas) couldn’t see the obvious signs. He didn’t understand how those signs could be so easily ignored. 

Jack wasn’t against vampires by any means, but he watched enough movies and shows to know that not all of them were friendly. He just wanted to make sure you were one of the good ones. Surely, Jonas could see that. 

But instead, Jack found himself trying to prove you were a vampire to Jonas rather than figure out if you were one of the good ones.

In Jack’s humble opinion, the daylight coincidences, the garlic bread situation, the turtleneck fiasco and the candle incident were more than enough to prove his point. There were too many instances where the clues pointed to the obvious for Jack to ignore. 

Jonas seemed to think otherwise. 

And if he was being honest, Jack was tired of the constant doubt. If Jonas wanted proof, then Jack was going to give him proof he couldn’t deny with one of the most well-known facts about vampires. 

They do not show up in photographs. 

It was an old legend, possibly a myth, but one that Jack was banking on being true just to shove it in Jonas’ face—for purely selfish reasons. He had even gone as far as buying an old polaroid camera, gripping the device in his hands as he wandered around Curtis’ house, hoping to find the couple for a quick photo. 

It was New Years, the house was full of people Jack both knew and had never met before in his life and he was thoroughly buzzed from the countless glasses of champagne that had been shoved in his hands since he walked through the door. 

So obviously he was in the perfect condition to expose a vampire. 

Jack stumbled his way up the stairs, muttering a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath when he almost dropped the camera. The music was a little more muffled upstairs, the party a distant thought as he began walking around in hopes of finding you and Nico. 

He was passing by one of the guest rooms when he heard muffled voices and quickly skidded to a stop. He pressed his ear against the door, only to pause when he saw it was slightly ajar. And against his better judgement, he found himself peaking through the small crack. 

Nico was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head hanging as he seemed far more interested in the carpet than anything else. You were stood between his legs, your lips turned downwards as you let out a sigh. 

“C’mon, say it again.” 

“I don’t wanna.” 

“Nico,” you said in a pointed voice, running your hands through his hair before tugging his head back. You tilted your head, watching him closely before he spoke. “Say it again.” 

“I’m your boyfriend and you love me,” Nico murmured.

You raised your brows. “Say it like you mean it.”

Nico huffed out a small laugh but his eyes didn’t look away from you. “I’m your boyfriend and you love me.”

“Atta boy,” you grinned in response. 

However, the moment was ruined by the sound of Jack dropping the camera. Both of your heads snapped around and Jack’s feet didn’t seem to catch the memo to move before he landed flat on his ass, surrounded by pieces of his camera that were completely shattered. 

“Jack?”

Jack let out a shriek, lifting his hands over his head whilst the words tumbled past his drunken lips before he could stop himself. “Please don’t suck my blood!” 

You stood in the doorway, staring at the boy with a confused frown. “What?” 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you compel him! Don’t eat me!” Jack continued to ramble, his eyes clenched shut like he was waiting for a hit he knew was already coming, like he was prepared for it.

Nico shifted to stand behind you, also frowning down at Jack. “Compel what?” 

Jack slowly blinked his eyes open to find you both staring down at him with mixed expressions of amusement and concern. He gulped, his logic and common sense thrown out the window in his inebriated state. 

“Uh, her,” Jack stated dumbly as he glanced at you. “She compelled you.”

You blinked. “I what?” 

“Because you’re a vampire,” Jack said, a little bolder than before. 

Your lips parted. “I’m a what?” 

“Jack,” Nico sighed, all captainy and authoritative in a way that made Jack squirm a little in his seat, like he disappointed someone he shouldn’t have. “Why would you think my girlfriend is a vampire?” 

“Because it was obvious!” Jack insisted, scrambling to finally stand up—with the help of Nico reaching out to balance him when he began to sway. 

Nico, who now looked more amused than disappointed, only raised his brows in response. “And how was it obvious?” 

“We never saw her during the day!” Jack blurted out. “It was always at dinners or other night events. Never during the day.”

“Jack,” you said in a soft voice. “I work during the day. I don’t get off until six, and that’s on early days.” 

“Oh,” Jack murmured with a frown. “What about the garlic?”

“You mean the day you tried to shove store bought garlic bread in our faces?” Nico mused, shaking his head. “I told you she wasn’t feeling well. The garlic bread was too heavy, it would’ve upset her stomach.”

“And I’d rather not puke all over my boyfriend’s teammate’s house the first time I’m invited,” you added with a snort.

“The turtleneck?” Jack questioned.

“Like I said, a fashion choice,” Nico huffed, but his cheeks burned a little as he quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. “And I loved the turtleneck, baby. One of my favourite outfits.”

You snorted in response. 

“What about the candle?” Jack insisted, his brows furrowing together. “You were so against me lighting it!” 

“Because I’m just sensitive to most smells,” you explained with a sheepish smile. “Most candles give me a headache but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because it was very thoughtful.”

“Oh,” Jack repeated, feeling stupid for what felt like the millionth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s sweet that you were so concerned about Nico dating a vampire that you did all of this,” you added, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Even if you did just wreck your camera.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack murmured, his cheeks burning hot and pink. 

“Anything else you wanna get off your chest?” Nico questioned, watching as the boy blushed even more—if that was even possible.

“Maybe don’t mention this to Jonas?” 

Nico’s lips twitched. “My lips are sealed.” 

“Okay, good,” Jack nodded, swallowing harshly. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to go either sober up or get even more drunk.” 

You snorted in response.

“Sorry once again,” Jack added with a sheepish smile.

You waved him off. “Water under the bridge, Hughes.” 

This was definitely something Jonas would never let him forget when he found out.

…

“Be honest: was that your attempt of causing a distraction so I would forget why we came up here?” 

Nico couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he turned his head to look at you, smiling fondly when he found you already grinning back at him. He shook his head, winding his arms around your waist to tug you closer once he was sure Jack had disappeared back downstairs where the party was.

“You think I had anything to do with that?” Nico teased. “Please, I would know better.”

Your nose scrunched up a little. “I mean, a vampire? Come on!” 

“You would make the cutest vampire ever,” Nico said, laughing when you pinched his hip in retaliation. “Kidding, baby, I would never think you were one of those bloodsuckers.” 

“Damn right,” you huffed before your gaze softened. “Seriously though, before all the Jack stuff, you know it’s true, right? I love you and nothing will change that.” 

“Even your parents prefer your ex-boyfriend over a ‘measly human’?” Nico questioned, trying and failing to keep his voice lighthearted and playful as he repeated your parents’ hurtful words.

“Nico, baby,” you lifted your hands to cup his face, your voice honest and genuine as you spoke. “You’re it for me. I don’t care what anyone says, whether it's my parents being disapproving of me dating a human or your teammates thinking I’m a vampire. I want to be with you, no matter what. It’s you and me, Hischier.” 

Nico didn’t even bother to bite back the grin taking over his face as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours and letting the tension slip away from his shoulders. “You and me,” he murmured between kisses. 

“Even if I was a bloodsucker?” You teased, something in your chest tightening at the way he smiled against your lips.

“Even then,” Nico mused before pulling away, a completely fond expression on his face. “Lucky for me, my girlfriend is way too pretty to be a bloodsucker.” 

You raised your brows. “Buttering me up, Hishcier?” 

“Just stating the truth,” Nico shrugged, still smiling down at you. “I always thought the werewolves were way cooler when Jack made me watch Twilight.” 

You snorted, shaking your head. “I’m much cooler than those wolves.” 

“Much cuter too,” Nico added, pressing his lips to the crown of your head and beaming when your eyes flashed yellow in response, something like a pleased purr leaving your lips when he pulled you closer.

.

[sweetlyvibe]

“𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮” - 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗄𝗒𝗎𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 ╰► ❨ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ❩

- 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝖠𝗌𝖺𝗁𝗂 𝖠𝗓𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾 ⋆ 𝖣𝖺𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗂 𝖲𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖺 ⋆ 𝖪𝗂𝗍𝖺 𝖲𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾 ⋆ 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗎 ⋆ 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝖸𝖺𝗄𝗎 ⋆ 𝖪𝖾𝗇𝗆𝖺 𝖪𝗈𝗓𝗎𝗆𝖾

Asahi realized he loved you one day after you visited him at practice. You were laughing and talking with his teammates, treating everyone with warmth and kindness, and it just hit him: he never wanted to be without you. The thought was so overwhelming that he spent the next few days flustered and avoiding eye contact, wondering how he’d ever tell you.

Finally, one evening when you’re both walking home together, you mention something funny that happened at school, and he just blurts out, “I… I think I love you.” His face is tomato red, and he’s barely holding eye contact, heart hammering in his chest. When you smile softly and say, “I love you too, Asahi,” he practically melts on the spot, his whole face lighting up in shy happiness.

Daichi knew he loved you during a team dinner. You’d insisted on helping organize everything, making sure everyone had enough to eat, even cracking jokes to ease the tension after a tough game. He watched you effortlessly handle the chaos, feeling something solid click into place—this was love.

After a few days of thinking about it, he finally decides to tell you. You’re both in the middle of a playful argument over who’s the better cook, and he suddenly stops, looking at you seriously. “I love you,” he says, like he’s sharing a fact he’s known forever. You pause, caught off guard, then smile and say, “Well, I love you too, obviously!” He laughs, relieved, and pulls you into a tight hug, wondering why he’d ever worried.

Kita realized he loved you in one of those simple, everyday moments—you were just helping him harvest some vegetables, chatting and laughing under the sun. He found himself staring, thinking, this is it, this is where I’m supposed to be.

Later that evening, he pulls you aside on the porch as you watch the stars. There’s a calm confidence in his voice as he says, “I love you.” It’s not flashy or dramatic, but it’s so Kita—honest, steady, and true. You feel warmth spread through your whole body as you reply, “I love you too.” He nods, looking satisfied, and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Tendou’s realization hit him like a lightning bolt one day while he was rambling on about his favorite anime. You were listening so intently, your eyes shining with interest, and he thought, Wait… no one’s ever actually cared this much about my weird stuff. That’s when he knew.

A few days later, you’re both at an arcade, laughing and trying to beat each other’s high scores. Out of nowhere, he says, “I love you.” You look up, a little surprised, and he gives you that signature mischievous smile, adding, “Yeah, you heard me.” You break into a huge grin, saying, “I love you too, you nerd.” He laughs, relieved and happy, and playfully ruffles your hair.

Yaku’s moment of realization came when you patched him up after a rough game. You were so gentle, fussing over his scraped knees, and he couldn’t stop staring at you, thinking, I could get used to this. The thought of you caring for him so sweetly felt too good to be true.

A few days later, he finally works up the nerve to tell you. You’re out together, talking about everything and nothing, when he stops mid-sentence and says, “I love you, you know?” It’s straightforward, with a hint of that proud Yaku confidence. You blink, processing, then smile, leaning in close to whisper, “I love you too.” He tries to play it cool but ends up beaming, completely thrilled.

Kenma realized he loved you during a quiet gaming session at his place. You were sitting beside him, just there in the background, but somehow, it felt right. He didn’t need anyone else—he just wanted you. The realization made him so nervous he avoided telling you for days, worried he might ruin things.

But one night, as you’re leaving, he stops you at the door and says, “I… love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear it, your face lighting up with a smile. “I love you too, Kenma.” He looks away, trying to hide his blushing face, but you catch the soft smile creeping onto his lips, and he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling lighter than ever.

[yelenasbraid]

good enough — joe burrow

summary — ‘we’re not good enough’ is starting to sound and feel like ‘i’m not good enough’ for joe

warnings — fem!reader, whole lotta angst, mentions of panic/not feeling great, takes place after the game against the eagles, lots of italics so sorry, maybe some ooc joe?? halfway proofread so don’t come for me.

note — i listened to the song j’s lullaby (darlin’ i’d wait for you) by delaney bailey and whewww it fueled the angst

ANOTHER FUMBLE RECOVERY. another turnover. another at-home loss. he couldn’t fight this game anymore, he couldn’t fight the refs, he couldn’t deny the very blatant fact that they weren’t good enough.

so he sat, watching jake perform the last moments of the game. he watched as they lost, the score 37-17. he knew the stakes coming into the game. the eagles were a prominent team, a good opponent. he was expecting a good game out of it, not a blowout.

the post-game press conference was going to be a nightmare.

what kept him sane as he walked in the tunnel wasn’t a thing or an event, it was a person. you. he knew you watched the entire thing, he knew you’d be upset, as was he. he also knew that if one person said the wrong thing he’d snap.

he just needed to see you. just for one second.

he walked into the tunnel, his head hanging as cameras flashed. he clenched his fists; they wanted a picture of this?

“joe,” he picked up his to the sound of your voice, and if he didn’t know better, he would have collapsed right then and there. he walked up to you, putting the rest of the energy he had into his getting to you. he gently wrapped his arms around you, inhaling your perfume, reveling in your warmth.

you pulled apart from him like gum from the concrete; he didn’t want to let you go. he didn’t want to go to the press conference and face the failures, his failures.

“don’t you dare go there,” you gently warned, your voice like a cool stream over a sore wound. your hands held his clenched fists, which eventually opened to envelop yours. you were right, but it was too late; he was already there.

“i’ll see you at home,” he swallowed. his eyes twitched, the glass beneath them shattering as he made eye contact with you. he took a breath; he was not going to lose it.

“i love you,” you reminded him, letting go of his hands.

“i love you,” he hummed, mustering up some energy to offer you a smile. to you, it just looked like a more relaxed expression. he trailed off, being whisked away by staffers. he gave you one last look before he disappeared to the locker rooms.

—

his drive home was silent. his hands wrung the steering wheel as the conference played over in his mind.

“we’re not good enough, we’re not good enough. we gotta get better,”

“we gotta take responsibility for how we’re playing individually,”

“i don’t think anybody was good enough today,”

the underlying message that the reporters didn’t catch, thankfully, was that he wasn’t good enough. he should have been better. it was all his fault.

you’d catch it though. he knew you saw through him the moment you saw him. he loved it about you, that he didn’t have to say anything for you to get him. it wasn’t always the case, but it was this time.

he pulled into the driveway, throwing the car into park and sitting there for a moment. he stared at the wall of the garage, losing himself in the defeat and disappointment of the night. he blinked, throwing himself out of whatever funk he was in, and shut the car off. his body ached, his head was heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep. it was only 6 pm; going to bed now wouldn’t hurt right?

he grabbed his bag and walked up into the house. he opened the door to the smell of vanilla and woodsmoke, his eyes directed to a candle that was lit in the kitchen. he didn’t see you in the living room or the kitchen, and for a second he thought you’d left. he swallowed, nerves bubbling in his gut as he kicked his shoes off by the door.

“babe?” he called, his voice hoarse and scratchy. his expression relaxed as he heard you pad down the stairs, seeing you in sweats and a t-shirt.

“hey,” you smiled, coming off the stairs. you crossed your arms over your chest, watching as joe stood there. he didn’t know what to do, clearly this game proved that. he just wasn’t good enough. the voices from past recruiters filled his mind as he zoned out again, whispering sweet lies to him about his performance.

he’d never be good enough.

there’s always someone better.

he wasn’t even good enough for you.

his breath hitched as he focused on you, the world around him coming back into focus.

“what?” he cleared his throat, seeing the confused expression on your face.

“i asked if you were hungry,” you repeated. seeing him this dazed worried you, especially given the circumstances.

“don’t really have an appetite,” he responded, moving past you and towards the stairs. his emotions were a sour cocktail, and he was tired of it being the only thing settling in his stomach. he wanted you told hold him, to comfort him, but he also needed to figure out what exactly happened out there. his brain was leaning towards finding a solution, even if there was no use in the state he was in.

“i figured,” you hummed, letting him stroll past you up the stairs, “i’ll be here when you’re ready,” you added. you’d wait for him, all day every day. you’d let him go through his process, do his routine, and he’d come back to you. he always did.

joe paused on the stairs, something stopping him. he didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your voice in his head breaking through the noise, telling him to not shut you out. maybe it was your divine-like patience. you always made time for his moods and his failures. did he make time for you? amidst his struggles, did he ever take a second to make time for your moods and your struggles? was he being a good boyfriend?

“baby?”

“why are you still here?” he asked you, his tone sharp, despite him meaning to sound that way.

“what?” his tone caught you off guard, making you rapidly blink to help you process.

“you should leave,” he continued, “you…” he was panicking. why was he pushing you away? he needed you.

“what are you talking about?” your fear struck you, but you still fought yourself. he couldn’t mean what you thought he meant, right? you swallowed, watching as he battled himself. watching as his eyes avoided yours, as his fists unclenched and then clenched again. he was shaking too.

“you’re always here for me, when have i ever been there for you?” he asked, “i’m not a good boyfriend, i’m not a good quarterback,”

“joe, stop,” your voice stopped him, a stern expression reminding him much of his mother. while you were serious, there was undoubtedly a kind warmth behind your eyes. he panted, his eyes filling with hot tears.

as silence sat between you, joe’s breathing lessened. he walked back down the stairs, dropping his bag at the foot of them. he stood there, deflated, as you approached him. you took his face in your hands, feeling warm tears hit your fingers. your thumbs whisked them away, trying to give joe some semblance of comfort during a time where there wasn’t much of it.

joe wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. he pulled you in close, the weight on his chest lessening as he let you pull him in. he let your warmth take him over, spreading like a wildfire over his bones. he felt your fingers through his hair, your hands running down his back. you were the personification of comfort and safety, and he was trying so hard to drink it all in.

“you are not a bad boyfriend,” you hummed, and in response he squeezed you tighter, “you’re not a bad quarterback,” you added, running your hands down his back. he pulled away from you as tears fell from his eyes. he wiped them away with the palm of his hand.

“how?”

“do you remember that time i was followed by some guy? i called you, and without any hesitation you answered and came to help me,”

“that’s just what a boyfriend is supposed to do,”

“hold on, i’ve got more,” you patted his chest, “the time when my mom had a cancer scare. you left practice early every day to make sure not only that i was ok, but if i needed anything. the time i got promoted at work and you surprised me with my friends over for dinner. the time i was spiraling so badly after a bad encounter with someone at work you picked me up, made me a delicious dinner, and made sure i felt appreciated and loved,” you listed them off, and there were many more. you guys weren’t perfect, by any means, but he was enough. he’d always be enough.

“you’re a good quarterback. if you don’t want to look at the numbers, look at your heart. you have such a passion for these young guys, for the vets. you lead them well and confidently, you make sure they know they’re appreciated and give them their first game ball if necessary, like you did with andrei. but because none of us are perfect, we make mistakes, but it makes us better. it doesn’t define you as a person,” you continued. you watched the gears turn, and while it would take some time for joe to see that himself, he knew you were right. he knew what you were talking about, he saw what you saw, and it calmed the frayed nerves in his body.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, “i really don’t,”

“you deserve the world, joe burrow,” you countered, giving him a soft smile. he gave you one back, sniffling.

“i’m sorry for telling you to leave, i just…i don’t know,”

“i know, just don’t push me away. i’m not here to make things worse for you, i hope you know that,” you allowed a laugh at your last words, making joe chuckle too.

“i know that,” he agreed.

“don’t push me away,” you repeat, resting your hand on his chest, it movie with the rise and fall of his chest.

“i won’t,”

“good,” you smiled, “now, i say it’s time for a comfort show,” you grinned, which made his face light up. the both of you walked over to the couch, sitting down on the plush white cushions. you settled a blanket across your lap, while joe grabbed a blanket of his own, laying his head in your lap.

“spongebob?” he turned his head up to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“sure thing, squidward,” you teased, kissing him on the nose. you turned it on, then nestling into your spot on the couch. you ran your fingers through joe’s hair, occasionally catching his neck before going back into his hair. joe melted into you, cuddling into your warmth and your safety. he watched the episode, giggling at a couple parts, but the most important thing is that he was with you. that you were the glue that held him together. the feeling of your hands in his hair sent prickles down his spine, and in a good and comforting way. every prickle sent warmth across his body, relaxing his taut muscles.

you bent down and kissed his temple.

“i love you, joe burrow,” you hummed.

“i love you more, y/n l/n,” he hummed back. it wasn’t too long before sleep bid him closer, and took over his body. he slumped into you, his soft breaths telling you he fell asleep. you kissed him again, smiling against his warm skin. he was safe and he was loved, and that’s all that mattered.

joey looked so sad after the game 🥺 hopefully this makes a bit better. ALSO! i do have a couple more fics lined up that might be released this week so STAY TUNED!! i just wanted to write an angsty fic ngl

tags: @wickedfun9 @joeyfranchise

[lowkeyrobin]

Miguel x reader but reader is just absolutely in love with Miguel but Miguel has eyes for sam and reader tries to be supportive be can't so they distance themself away from Miguel😁

- ♠️

dude I swear we're gonna brawl and I'm gonna make the guy ur talking too watch as I win. I'm so srs rn I'm gonna tell meemaw (I lit don't even know them all that well but idc) ; anyways thanks I guess 😒 /sarc ; but I went a little off the rails w this one cause why not

MIGUEL DIAZ ; casual

summary ; you have eyes for miguel while he slowly distances himself to be with sam, and you accept your fate

warnings ; language, physical fighting / a punch thrown

disclaimers ; miguel is a whole fucking villain, kinda off to canon timeline cause I'm rewatching atm and it's hard to keep 5 seasons straight in the brain, fun hawk tory and demetri content cause they'd be so cool together

track ; casual, chappell roan

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

You thought that maybe after all these months being with Miguel meant that you were together. Apparently not.

After two weeks of dating, his mom invited you over for dinner.

You gave him everything.

You did everything for him, you owed him everything, you could only thank him for being alive now.

After all the passionate making out, the special dates, the first time experiences, after everything, he said that. He said that there were no attachments. Every time you kissed, you gained anger issues, knowing his lips were probably on another's at some point between the last and now.

He made out with you after pressing you against the wall while his family sat at the dinner table down the hall.

But no, it was just casual.

You knew he just told his friends that it was just casual.

You loved being dumb about it for a while, at least while you thought it was real. After graduation, you'd have an apartment, and he'd show you off to his friends at the pier.

You noticed his unfocused gaze upon you. You noticed how he looked more interested in Sam LaRusso, again, for that matter.

You were just a rebound, apparently.

But apparently, it was just casual when he made out with you in the locker room just before the All Valley tournament. Yeah, it was just casual when you were on the phone trying to convince him not to run away to go find his dad, yet he went anyways.

You made out with him when you went to dinner, his mom and Johnny at the table.

Yet once he knew that you knew that he was into Sam again, he wondered why you were bitter. He bragged to his friends about how much he loved your lips, how much he wanted you and how amazing you were.

You hated how you allowed it to drag on, how you let it break you as much as it possibly could before you just gave the fuck up.

You hated yourself.

You hated yourself for allowing it to happen. You hated yourself for letting him think it was just casual. You hated yourself for not fucking killing him once you caught him in the act.

But no, you had to be the chill person who would just shrug it off.

At least some of your mutual friends were on your side after you texted them about it. Demetri, Tory, and Hawk the most, slightly surprisingly on Hawk's part.

The trio immediately rushed to your house, knowing you needed someone to lean on. For fuck's sake, you just saw your supposed boyfriend making out with his ex in a rollerrink.

The (kind of unlikely) trio, during a grace period between Eagle Fang slash Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do, had to team up just this once for their favorite, non-Miguel friend. They were all shocked and disgusted by Miguel's actions, though kind of expecting it.

He was infamous for his love triangles, apparently.

Tory holds you in her arms, allowing your vulnerability to show through while Demetri talks, hoping his rambles would ease your pain. Hawk is downstairs, making you some mac and cheese since you hadn't eaten dinner.

"Fuck him," Tory smiles, cutting of Demetri's nonsense ramble. "You're better than him, in many ways, actually. But, he lost you, that's his problem. You're free, Y/n. It wasn't just casual, I don't know why he's lying to himself, but he and Sam can go suck it. He clearly doesn't deserve you. You're way out of his league anyway"

You look up at her, a smile painting your face before you hug her. "Thanks, Tory"

Demetri awkwardly sits on the foot of your bed, unknowing of what to say or do. Tory gives him a look, considering you'd need feedback from both male and female friends of yours slash Miguel's. Her current state of mind was just showing you that there were apparently sides and they were on yours.

Demetri nods, quickly getting the message. "Yeah, he doesn't deserve you. You should like, get him back or something. Or at least yell at him, or something. I mean, getting back with your ex while trying to tell your current partner it's just casual? He fumbled"

You giggle, wiping your tears away. "Thanks, dude."

A light knock is heard at the door before it's opened, revealing Hawk with a tray carrying four bowls of mac and cheese, forks stuck in each of them. In his pockets are water bottles, two shoved in each one. The purple haired boy lightly sets the food down on your dresser, handing a bowl to each of you, then tossing you a bottle of water.

You all eat in silence, you trying to gather your thoughts while the others attempt to even wrap their minds around what you were going through after what Miguel did. In the background, on Demetri's phone, The Umbrella Academy plays, his phone perched against a few pillows on the bed where you were all huddled together.

Hawk and Tory share a look before turning back to the screen, enjoying the calm quiet that basked over them.

"what do you mean, why am i bitter???"

"youre being weird about this, we were never anything. you were basically a rebound. get over it omfg"

The three look up from your phone then at you, astonished looks painting their expressions. Their eyebrows are furrowed, their eyes widened.

"What the fuck?" Tory asks, "You weren't lying about that, were you?"

You shake your head. "Literally, what does he want from me? Of course I'm mad, he basically lead me on and won't explain why he was making out with his ex, then bragging to his friends about "oh we're casual"

Demetri bites his lower lip, trying not to laugh, considering it was a nervous tic of his. He shares an eyebrow jump with Hawk before listening in again. Hawk quickly grabs your phone from your hands unexpectedly.

"Dude-"

"What're you doing?"

"Calling him"

"What?!"

"Why?"

"I'm not talking to him-"

The dial tone makes your skin crawl as you hear it.

"Just let it out," Hawk shrugs, handing you the phone.

"Feel like I'd rather do this in real life, Moskowitz."

You feel an absolute weight fall from your shoulders as it moves to the voicemail, seeing as Miguel declined the call himself. You sigh out of relief, quickly shutting your phone off.

You glare at Hawk.

"Would you rather do it face to face? I can tell him to meet me somewhere and we'll jump him or something" He shrugs.

"Violence isn't gonna help anything," Tory declines. "We'll get him to go somewhere quiet yet busy. That way, you can expose him or something. Mental violence is better than physical"

"Says the champion of the All Valley girl's team"

"I'm tempted to paralyze him again."

The three friends share half fearful looks, knowing you didn't joke lightly in times like this. They lay their eyes upon Sam and Miguel again, holding hands as they walk through the hallway.

You bite your tongue, trying to hold back yelling profanities as they walk past you. You lean against the red lockers where Demetri fishes out a few textbooks from his. Tory stands by you while Hawk leans against them as well, arms crossed.

"What if we tell people there's a fight, you expose him, since you got receipts, and you beat him up?" Hawk suggests, throwing his idea out there.

You shrug. "I think he could beat my ass. That'd be embarrassing"

He shrugs in return. "Eh. He hasn't been practicing recently. He's probably a little rusty. Like, he hasn't been showing up to class for days"

Tory and Demetri nod to confirm Hawk's statement. You shrug again.

"M'kay"

"You wanna get suspended over this?" Demetri asks, closing his locker.

"First offense," you reply with an informative tone.

"Oh, I'm crazy because I thought you gave a shit about me? Please, inform me what casual is to you"

"Something not serious."

"But that's why we went out on dates, and why I did everything you asked of me?"

"You didn't have too"

"So?"

"So what?"

"So you're a bitch"

You quickly pull your clenched fist back, then push forward to hit Miguel straight in the face. He quickly gasps, along with the bystanders, holding a hand to his now bleeding nose.

"What the hell?"

Tory and Hawk goofily grin while Demetri lightly smiles, proud of you for sticking to your word.

"Too-da-loo, mister casual." You spin on your heel, walking back to your three friends.

They wrap you into side hugs, pulling you away from the shocked boy who'd essentially played you. Bystanders laugh at him and gawk at you, snapping pictures, sending videos across the school.

A happy little smile remains on your face as you're sent home for the rest of the week.

[softfem-dom]

wedding ring

origins!husban!logan x origins!wade x wife!reader

a/n : I don't know what came over me to write this, I have no excuse I'm just horny.

wc : 3k

NSFW , PORN WITH (LITTLE) PLOT , WADE IS A HORNY SHIT , MOMMY & DADDY KINK , GENERAL WADE™ BEHAVIOUR sub!origins!wade wilson . dom!origins!logan . dom!reader

synopsis : wade has always been a kinky little shit, it seems that title is well-deserved when he starts to fantasize about squeezing himself into a married couple old enough to be his parents.

If someone in the team were to ask Wade why he looked as if he hadn't slept in a decade, he'd say he was up practising his katana skills.

When in reality, he had spent the whole night groaning and moaning against his pillow while rubbing himself raw to the thought of you and Logan.

What was so special about you two, you may ask? You were married and were old enough to be his parents.

It was absolutely not his fault. You two had no right to come into the X-Team, looking so fucking hot and expect him not to get hard.

You couldn't just walk around the place with Logan's strong arm around your waist and expect him not to stare. You couldn't just hum in acknolovedgment everytime Logan leant into your ear to rumble something that the merc couldn't quite catch and expect him not to grow desperate.

He was a walking mess. Day and night his thoughts were consumed by you and Logan, Logan and you, and what you could do to him. He couldn't help it, he'd blame the undiagnosed ADHD anyday for titty-flashing him with so many dirty scenarios anytime you walked past.

,,

Logan and you had been through a lot of shit togheter.

You had met sometime between the 1880's and the 1900's, both mutants and escaping from someone who was trying to do you harm. Both with the weight of taken lives over your shoulders, both with spilled blood on your hands. Both with the promise of living far too long.

And, cliche-y enough, you both had fallen in love. After uniting forces as acquintances, then growing as close as long-life friends, and then falling into the claws of love, you two had gotten married.

Happyly married, always attached to the hip, gold wedding wands on your ring fingers. Always watching out for the other.

And when William Stryker offered you both a place in a 'special opperations' team called X-Team, you both agreed —happy to help a cause—.

What you didn't expect, though, was Wade Wilson turning into another shit you had to go through togheter.

The mercenary seemed to never know when to shut his mouth, or how to read social cues, he just simply had a mouth too big for his own good. Hence why the nickname merc with a mouth was born amidst the members of the team.

He was a young man in his 20's, a cocky asshole and a total flirt that talked big game. He liked to show off during missions, pulling stunts, to impress Logan or you was another question that didn't have an answer yet.

You and your husband just knew the kid seemed to have the hots for one of you. Which made Logan boil with possesiveness because you were his damn wife, his and his only —possesiveness that in turn only made Wade all the more horny.

It wasn't until today's mission that you realized that the mercenary didn't have the hots for just one of you, but for both.

After trying to break in a building to stop some drug dealers, the team had split up and —ironically enough— left you three to flee from more guards than you could fight. And now, ironically enough again, you three were hidding in a really small supply closet.

You hadn't intended for it to end up this way, but your husband was with his broad back against the wall and with a pupil-blown Wade completely sandwiched between you two.

Wade was totally trying to keep his cool, desperately keeping up his usual cocky fachade, but his gut felt so damn coiled at having his ass pressed against Logan's crotch and his chest in level with yours.

"How did they notice us?!?" you asked your husband in a low breath, completely ignoring the merc between you.

Logan growled slightly, his nose twitching when a strangely strong scent wafted into his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he tried to peek out from the small gap in the door. "dunno, doll, but I guess they didn't see us come here"

As you kept talking with your husband in hushed breaths, Wade was starting to feel his brain turning to damn mush as he was trapped between you two. He couldn't help it, your body warmth was sweeping into his bones from back and front —melting him—.

And then, suddenly he heard your voices stopping. Looking up with his half-glassy eyes, he was met by a quirked eyebrow and a deep scowl from Logan.

"are you damn horny right now, mouth?" Logan pretty much growled. His voice rumbling in his chest as he looked down at the young man between you two.

Wade blinked, realizing he had been so aroused —and locked up in his dirty fantasies— that he had pretty much started to leak in his pants.

"ohw, c'mon, what'd you expect?" the merc breathed out under your questioning gaze. "I've got my hot ass against someone's big dick and my face is smushed against this massive titties and jesus fucking christ—"

His words died down in a choked way when Logan's hand flied up to his throath, wrapping around it without issue —damn big hands the Canadian had— and squeezing. Choking a wheezed noise out of his mouth.

"shut your damn mouth if ya wanna keep your throath, bub" Logan growled in the merc's ear, his voice almost like the roar of a lion with how much red he was seeing.

You were just staring at the way Wade's eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head, thighs twitching before shamelessly parting —as if he wanted someone's hand between them—. The mercenary seemed to really be horny for you two.

"really, Wade?" you purred, voice low, as you stared at the young man —letting your husband do the job of shutting him up. "going after a married couple like this? didn't think you'd fall that low.."

Wade struggled to breathe through his nose with Logan's tight grip around his throath, but he spoke nonetheless. "aughn— you two are fucking god- relax the grip old man literally bisexual culture-"

His gasped words only made the growl bubbling up in Logan's throath grow louder. You saw the veins in your husband's arm bulging as he squeezed around Wade's throath again, watching the way the merc choked on his spit —saliva slobbering down the corner of his lips.

You reached out your own hand and placed it atop of Logan's, as if methaporically holding your husband's hand while he choked Wade.

"fucking god you two are really feeding my mommy and daddy issues right now y'kno-oh-oww—"

Wade's spech got cut off my another series of squeezes around his throath, making the mercenary cough and choke on his spit as his head fell forwards against your chest.

"watch your damn mouth, mouth"

"ngh-ah- unluckily for you I've got a thing for being put in my place by dominant, sexy, grown-ups. Big ones with huge—"

His voice died in his own throath when two, huge and thick, fingers were proding at his mouth. Sneaking past his lips and stuffing him full, his eyes rolled back, knees almost buckling underneath him when the meaty taste of sweat invaded his mouth.

"shut it, bub"

"hmn-nhgh"

"you managed to shut him up" you low whistled at your husband, impressed by how quickly and efficiently the merc had shut up. Now busy with nibbling at the fingers inside of his mouth.

"easy peasy" Logan huffed with a slight roll of his eyes. "don't know how long it'll last, though, just look at how damn much the kid's leaking"

Wade whined around Logan's fingers at the way you two were speaking as if he wasn't there, thighs trying to close when he felt your eyes going down and settling on the obvious tent in his pants —and the wet spot.

"so horny" you hummed, more to yourself than anything, before looking back at his face. "what does this mean, baby?" you purred as you pointed to the gold ring on your finger with a neutral look on your face —as if he wasn't coming undone before your eyes. "I don't think you're that dumb yet. C'mon, what does this, right here, mean, Wade?"

Wade struggled to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth around Logan's fingers, body almost tumbling forward when the Canadian ripped his fingers off of his mouth so suddenly.

"I- aughn- I—" he stumbled over his words, swallowing again, as his hazy eyes looked up at you. "that's a daddy and mommy ring" he wheezed out, a little "ah-ah!" escaping his lips when Logan grabbed his hair from the back —forcing him to behave—. "means- angh means that you're married. And old enough to be my grand-parents-"

"That's right, bub" Logan growled, leaning in close to whisper in Wade's ear. "We're a married couple and you're nothing but a pest."

"now, now, darling" you hummed lovingly as you looked at your husband, who was still grabbing Wade by his hair. "don't be so mean.. It turns him on"

That last was a low drawl, before your hand was cuping Wade's cheek and making sure the cold metal of the gold wedding ring you wore was against the merc's skin. "We've lived through wars, honey, you're a literal baby compared to us" you added, voice low and degradatory.

Wade shuddered as the cold metal of your wedding ring pressed against his skin, his eyes looking up at you with a mixture of desire and submission.

"I'm a- nnnng baby" he repeated, almost breathless. "Logan and you are old. So old."

Logan leaned in closer, his hand still clamped around Wade's hair. "Old enough to be your parents" he repeated, his voice dark and gravely. His teeth almost gracing Wade's ear. "Old enough that you shouldn't be interested in us, bub."

"Please, I- I- ahhhhnn I promise I'm good, I promise I'm good, I- I can be good."

It was funny, really, to see such a cocky and show-off of a man being this needy and whiny between you two. But what could you say, it was the Howlett effect.

You slowly slipped your gold wedding band out of your ring finger, right infront of Wade's eyes —watching the way he almost busted on the spot just from the sight alone—.

"this is what'chu want, ain't it honey?" you teased the mercenary trembling and whining between you. "you want this pretty ring on your finger too, don't ya? you wanna be the throphy toy to a hot, married couple old enough to be your parents, don't you, sweetheart?"

You held the wedding ring infront of Wade's face as one of your hands started to rub his arm —slowly going down to his hand—. Wade was shaking, he didn't even know how he hadn't cum untouched yet with how tight and hot his gut felt. All of his muscles coiled.

Wade looked like he was about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there in the small supply closet.

"Please" he breathed out, his voice strained and his eyes fixed on the ring in your hand. "Please, I- I want to be- nngah, I want it. I- I'll be good, I- aaahhhnn"

"Are you?" Logan asked, using the grip on Wade's hip to pull him closer against him. "Are you going to behave for us?"

After a series of jerky and rapid nods coming from the drooling mercenary trembling between you, "good fucking boy, there you go" your voice was low and syrupy, as you grabbed Wade's twitching hand and slowly —almost sensually— slipped the cold golden wand on his finger.

It looked as if he was going to combust just from having the ring on his finger, from the implications of having a wedding ring from a married couple on his finger.

Maybe you'd find an explanation for the creamy wet spot between Wade's legs and the way he was wearing your wedding ring when you meet the team in a few minutes. Or maybe you won't, who knows.

[januaryembrs]

I MIGHT JUST BE IN LOVE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [8]

GIF by fightingdragonswithwho

decription: the FIVE times they hide that they're dating + the ONE time they tell everyone

word count: 17.5k

warnings: blood, gore, usual cm stuff. FLUFF, OH GOD FLUFF. mention of sex (minors DNI in this one), no actual smut but very close to it (actual smut chapter of their first time to come soon), tiny sprinkle of angst because its ME.

author note: WE'RE BACK POOKIES. I'M SO SORRY MY BRAIN STOPPED FUNCTIONING.

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‘oh god I’m gonna marry him, if he keeps this shit up,

I might just be in la la la la la love’

The one with the revenge.

“This is so against company policy,” Bugsy murmured, her fingers twined in Spencer’s hair as he pressed urgent kisses to her neck. 

“Only if they have evidence,”  Spencer replied, his brows furrowed as she attached her lips to his fervently. They’d held it together until this point, kept the touches minimal, left the make outs and needy hands for home when they could be themselves without exposing their best kept secret to the rest of the team. But today was different. Virginia had reached an unnaturally hot peak, and the whole team had been forced to swap out their usual professional attire with something more casual. Spencer had forgone his sweaters, which had been a mourning in itself, and instead had been rolling his sleeves to his elbows in some attempt to cool his thick veins. 

Bugsy hadn’t needed to voice her opinion of the new look. Spencer wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t blind. He saw how she looped her fingertips between his, the second they had a minute alone, how her eyes trained on his hands when he drove them home, how she would press a quick peck to the back of his hand in between moments of silence when she had little more to do with her mouth. 

“Isn’t that funny, the evidence locker doesn’t have cameras, that’s almost-” She cut herself off with a jolted moan as he kissed over her collar bone, nipping so gently that it wouldn’t leave a mark. 

“And you guys say I talk too much,” Spencer said, a hint of teasing in his voice as she looked at him with a gaping mouth, learning very quickly that Spencer was a downright menace when they were sneaking around, the boy who never broke the rules, who ironed his socks and folded his underwear almost devilish at the idea of doing something in secret.

She pinched his bottom cheekily, and he jumped slightly, only to find her giggling to which he cut her off with an even harsher kiss. 

She was addictive, which was a strong claim to be made by a man like him. Yet he found himself thinking everything about her lips was laced with a toxin he couldn’t keep away from, like he’d had a taste of fresh air and couldn’t be without or he’d begin to turn bluer than Violet Beauregarde. He’d found the golden ticket, the key to the factory. For once in his life, Spencer Reid had come out the other side and won. 

Bugsy’s hands were yanking at his locks, their lips sliding against one another, and he pushed to the back of his head that they only had about three more minutes before it became suspicious that they were gone from their desks so long. 

And as if some being up in the heavens was sat back watching with popcorn, the door handle rattled as someone entered the room, and the two of them sprung away from one another. 

David Rossi strolled in, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand as he sat through his second batch of paperwork, looking for the file from the Milwaukee case to use as source material, His shirt had been unbuttoned, the Virginia heat stifling and he was already starting to regret picking a hot drink over the cold crap that wasn’t even real espresso that Penelope liked from Starbucks, yet he thought he might take anything that would cool him down when he strolled into the back room that was known for no open windows, and the sight of two sweating agents greeted him. 

Spencer’s hair was messed from where he must have ran his hand through it a bunch of times, trying to get it off his neck, Bugsy’s shirt was tucked where she probably attempted to cool herself off in the obnoxiously stuffy four walls as they both flicked through separate files, standing about ten feet apart from one another. 

“It’s a hot one today, kids,” He said, sliding his coffee on the table and strolling past the two of them towards the ‘M’ section. 

They stole a glance at one another, knowing smiles passing between them because it felt entirely clandestine what they were doing. 

“Don’t suppose the director would mind if we pulled funds to invest in a BAU swimming pool, would they?” She chimed in, fanning her blouse out because it really was stuffy in there, she had just assumed it was the feeling she got when she kissed Spencer. 

“We fuel the jet once a week, what’s a pool between co-workers,” He shrugged, smiling when he heard her giggle. 

Spencer pulled the folder he was actually looking for off the shelf, making his way to the exit, watching her eyes shy away from him because they both knew it was entirely obvious when they looked at one another, mainly because his cheeks heated up beyond what he could excuse as being the heat wave.

Yet he was feeling brazen, and maybe a little embarrassed at the way he’d leapt up as she’d grabbed his butt, and with a quick glance back to make sure David was nose deep in the bookshelves, he reached out and gave her ass cheek a quick pinch as he waltzed passed her, hearing her yelp and drop her folder as he did so. 

He left the evidence room with a smirk, heading back to his desk and keeping a low profile though he knew she was scrambling to collect the papers off the floor in the wake of his shameless grab. 

“You okay?” Rossi asked, his brows raised and watching the girl rearrange all the papers into a neat pile, a flustered look on her face. 

“Yeah, just thought I saw a spider,” She said, her voice breezy though her heart racing was anything but. She would have her revenge for that, she swore. 

If Spencer wanted to play that game, then it was on. 

-

Two days later, she had all but strolled into work with a shit eating grin, and he knew she was plotting something then. She had been unnaturally quiet on the car ride, had tried to keep her glances at him sparse, though he caught the little smile that tugged at her lips whenever he looked at her. 

“What?” He tried, despite the fact she shook her head in refusal, her eyes already sparked with mischief, “What? What’s that look for?”

“Nothing, just concentrate on the road, Spence,” She said, though he heard her toes tapping together with delight, and she sighed dreamily as she looked at him. Though he was under no illusion that it had come from a place of endearment, no matter how much she adored him. Because of course she loved him more than anything, he had no doubt about that, yet he also knew she loved a sweet serving of revenge just as much, and it was for that reason her smile alone worried him a little.  

“Oh, nothing, really?” He said with narrowed eyes, though he felt the infectious beam spreading on his face because he loved seeing her happy even if it undoubtedly was coming at his expense, “So I shouldn’t be expecting salt in the sugar shaker, hm? Or a water balloon under my seat?” 

“No, absolutely not,” She feigned innocence, reaching over to squeeze his hand in hers with a guiltless expression, “I am much more creative than that, Spence. I’m going big or going home, honey, you should know that by now,” 

Spencer snickered, pulling her hand up for a sweet kiss to the back of her knuckles, “I don’t know why I expected otherwise,”

The look of the cat that got the cream returned, and she merely hummed along to the radio. And oddly enough, Spencer was excited to see what she had hidden up her sleeve if it meant he could make her so childishly excited. He thought about embellishing his freight when she inevitably jumped out at him or had a can of worms pop out of his desk drawer, just to have her seem fulfilled just that bit longer. 

He didn’t care how much of an idiot it made him look, he was already a fool in love. 

Spencer trailed a few paces behind her as they stepped out onto the sixth floor, and he knew she had something truly diabolical planned because she was so brazen as to lean up and press a kiss to his mouth in the elevator, pressing her body against his and letting her velvet tongue slip into his mouth tenderly. He could have slammed a hand on the emergency stop button right then and there, could have devoured her mouth and her lips and her hot kisses some more until he stumbled out of the doors drunken and idle on her intoxicating touch. 

He made a move to caress the back of her head with one of his large hands, weave his nails through her scalp to hold her tight to him, only for her to part quickly, leaving his cheeks flushed and his lungs craving more than just oxygen. 

“For good luck,” She said with a chirp, a skip to her steps as the metal doors slid open, and she danced away from him with a grin that told him his day was about to be swiftly ruined by whatever it was she had organised. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a mildly worried tone, not letting her get away from him too easily as he paced behind her, his lean legs weighed down and skittish by the fact his cock was quickly getting hard at the spritely woman who had him trailing her like a dog begging for a bone. He tried not to think of the irony in those words, his expression conflicted between interested and hesitant, “Bugsy?”

“I thought you were supposed to be a genius. It means good luck, Spence,” She teased through a wry smile as she plonked herself at her desk chair, swivelling around to face him almost immediately, looking up at him through thick, roguish lashes, “Oh! Hotch says he wants the Oregon files done today, pretty boy,”

Because it couldn't be honey or baby or the other nice names she’d taken to calling him, but she could get away with the same name the entire team had called him for over ten years. 

Taking a final glance at her face that had chaos written all over it, Spencer held his tongue, looping the strap of his satchell over his head and gently placing it on his desk, his forest hues watching as she logged onto her computer, trying to keep her excitement subtle as she grinned into her keyboard clicks. 

Spencer Reid had learned quickly never to start something with that girl that he couldn’t finish. And yet, by a stroke of boldness and lust, he had gotten caught up in the whirlwind of their excursions. He had forgotten in between the soft touches and gentle kisses and soppy exchanges just how hellish she could be when she wanted. 

Shaking off whatever that look on her face meant, he rolled his draw out of his desk, the report he’d been half way through typing up laying where he had left it last night before Hotch had told them to wrap up for the day.

Pulling the manilla folder from his desk, he swore his heart leaped into his throat as a piece of thin, lacy fabric had appeared beneath his scribbles of handwriting, laughing at the look on his face when he spotted it sitting there in his drawer. 

He’d never seen her wear the satin, red thong before, but judging by the way his mind raced like a gelding let loose to conjure images of her in them, he didn’t seem to find it difficult imagining it. The lining was a gossamer mesh, small posies decorating the front in subtle detailing, but it was the floss-like string that trailed down the back that made him stutter, because there was no way that was covering anything important even if it tried. 

He heard a small giggle, and his head shot up to the offender, only catching the back of her head as she hid into her keyboard. He knew his cheeks were already flushing with poker hot flames, he felt them as much prickling and biting with heat, and he swore the shudder that ran down his spine was involuntary when he reached out to brush the fabric with his fingertip, testing the waters to see if there were really even there. Spencer’s jaw had slacked open uselessly, and she made it a mental note to tease him that she had finally been able to render the man who could tell her Thomas Edison’s childhood pets in alphabetical order speechless. 

“You alright, Spence?” JJ asked with concern lacing her fair brows, because her heels seemed to have made no sound as she had been walking by, unless they had and he’d been entirely wrapped up in his punishment to notice.

He slammed the drawer shut, loud enough to attract the attention of Morgan who was nose deep in his own report, and Spencer nearly cursed when his thumb got caught in between the pieces of wood, choosing to smash his lips together tightly instead and nod wordlessly.

“Something the matter, pretty boy?” Bugsy asked, feigning naivety as she swivelled around in her wheely chair, and he could do nothing but look at her with terrorred eyes, because he had hugely underestimated her with the can of worms idea. Though he couldn’t help but think that’s exactly what she’d opened in showing him that underwear. 

He wondered, in between thinking of excuses to give JJ as to why he had looked so disoriented, if she had a matching set. 

“T-tired,” He managed to bleat, his thumb throbbing where the pain had surged up his arm, and it seemed his pathetic justification half worked as JJ shot him wary eyes and a small smile, one that said she would let him off with that dumb response for now. 

Bugsy blinded him with a grin entirely cheshire, and she drew her file to her chest as she stood from her seat, following in JJ’s footsteps towards her boss’s office. 

“Oh, just so you know, I have it in black too,” She said almost too casually, sticking her head over his desk with a sly pull of her lips, as if she was doing nothing more than letting him know to expect rain in an hour or so. 

And he could do nothing but stare after her, his finger still aching from his mistake, begging himself not to take another peek at the divine material sitting just inches away from him. 

Spencer knew then, if he hadn’t figured it out already in the seven years he’d wanted her, that he was fucked.

2. The one where they almost get caught on a date.

She sipped the straw with a coy smile, the whipped cream and cherry only making the thick drink sweeter to the taste as he watched her intently. 

“Good?” He asked with a cottony mouth and her lips popped off the straw, her mouth exploding with strawberry goodness. 

“Gotta admit, it’s kind of living up to the ‘best milkshakes in town’” She replied swooping in to pop the glacé cherry between her painted lips as Spencer took a sip from his own double chocolate delight, not missing the way her eyes lit up as she crunched into the fruit. Pushing her cone shaped glass onto his side of the sticky wooden table, she gestured the straw his way, “Swaps?” 

He smiled, because he loved sharing his things with her. He might have found it annoying had it been anyone else because he had always had his things and other people’s things separate. He’d always kept his things to himself, not selfishly or maliciously, merely for the fact he liked having his own things uncontaminated. But with her it was different. Spencer would give her anything she wanted, which included a sip of milkshake here and there. His whole left leg if she asked.

Spencer’s almond curls fell over his forehead as he leaned down to sip the strawberry shake, sliding his own over to her awaiting hands, the cold glass moist with precipitate under his fingers. Yet he watched her, her lips pulling into a satisfied smile as she took a gulp, the two of them staring each other down with sickly sweet, adoring glances. 

“Good?” She repeated back to him, and he nodded, a large, broad hand reaching over the table to swipe a touch of whipped cream from her cheek, her skin soft and hot as hell under his advance. 

“Delicious,” He said, and without really thinking of the consequences, licked the cream from the tip of his thumb, his pink lips making a lewd smack as he did so. 

She watched him with hawk eyes, and he had a glowing sense of smugness as she shook her head to herself. 

“You’re not being fair,” She grumbled, huffing and slumping back in the squeaky diner seat, and his hand quickly chased hers over the table, grabbing it into a loving entwine of fingers and palms. 

“What’s not fair?” He asked, though the shit eating grin told her he knew exactly what he was doing and she nudged him with her sneaker for it. 

“You. Looking like a damn porn star drinking your milkshake.” She said, and he felt his cheeks twinge with a blush as she chuckled, squeezing their fingers together to tell him she was only joking. 

“Seems I’ve moved up in the world of explicit professions. First you called me a stripper, now I’ve been bumped up to porn star,” He teased, remembering the confusion that had written on her face the day they’d met. Spencer knew it had nothing to do with his freaky memory, he’d known she was special the second that door had opened, he knew everything Bugsy was committed to memory for the fact he couldn’t forget her even if he tried. 

She shrugged, a smirk on her lips, “What can I say, you’re a sought out man. You could charge double if you got Morgan in on it,” 

He laughed, shaking his head, “Only double?”

“Maybe throw in a Valentine’s day discount for your loving girlfriend,” She added with a million watt grin, and he rolled his eyes, hating how he could do nothing but indulge her when she was like this. 

“Ofcourse, I can't have pretty girls paying for things,” Spencer said, because he was somewhat confident now about flirting with her, knowing it would have the full desired effect and more. “Just out of interest, are we still talking about Morgan being involved?” 

“Well, I was going to give him the evening off to spend with his own girlfriend, but if you’re really so insistent-” He shot her a raised brow and she giggled, leaning forward to kiss the thumb that had been slowly stroking the back of her hand, “Always just me and you, honey,”

He smiled earnestly at that, and they exchanged a look that said those five words were much more set in stone than the teasing may suggest. Just them, always. Spencer could get used to that.

She leaned over the table for a quick peck on the lips because as much as she loved him, and god did she love him, they had quickly found they were just as embarrassed by affection in public as the other. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom before food comes,” She said, slipping out of the latex red seats, his head following her as she waltzed over to the loo, the two of them looking back at one another with small smiles like lovesick children. 

She loved the rhythm they had found, albeit the secrecy. It was nights like this, when they were able to act like a normal couple, when they were able to kiss and hold hands and flirt and look at each other with such heat it should have been public indecency, that she knew she wanted him forever. Because if this was how good it felt in private, she could only wonder how good it would be to tell people she was enamoured by one very handsome, very clever, Spencer Reid. Yet she loved having something for just them. In the lives of people who examined each other for a living, having secrets were like gold dust. Let alone a secret between profilers. That was pure jackpot material. 

He smiled into his lap, because he was truly happy for the first time in years. He had everything he’d ever wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He had the girl he’d loved for nearly seven years playing footsies with him while he eyed her lips and tried to analyse just how much she would hate being one of those couples that made out over milkshakes and burgers even if it was all he wanted to do. 

Spencer Reid had drawn the winning hand, no cheats or tricks or card counting needed. Just being him, awfully, nerdy, awkwardly him. 

He leaned in to take another sip of his milkshake, because they really were the best, only for his contented face to drop the second he saw four people walk through the door all smiles and fancy suits and heels, entirely unaware of what they were stumbling on. 

Spencer had never fumbled around his pockets for his phone faster, hitting the call button on her profile picture, which happened to be her asleep on the sofa with Sergio’s feet in her face while Niko peeked out at the camera from under the blanket, because Spencer thought it was possibly his favourite photo of their little family. She answered on the first ring, and he could just see the confusion written on her face before she even spoke. 

“Spence, I love you but I’m peeing right now, did you miss me that much-”

“Garcia and Morgan just walked in,” He whisper yelled, cupping his hand over the mic, whipping a look over his shoulder where their friends were standing at the host’s desk, waiting to be served. “They brought their partners, they’re staying in, we gotta go,”

Bugsy’s face tightened, her panties down to her ankles, Brittany Spears’ If You Seek Amy blasting in the women’s bathroom and she wondered, on bated breath, if this was exactly what her life had come to. 

“...Shit,”

“I’ll pay the tab and try to distract them now, you slip out and we’ll meet in the parking lot,” Spencer rushed, his brow sweating as he saw the waitress lead Morgan and Garcia’s new beau, Sam, over his way, no doubt towards the free booth next to them.

“Alright, I love you,” She quickly rushed, and he whispered it back, before the two of them hung up and realised just what a miracle it would be if the two of them got out of this undiscovered. 

Morgan’s dark eyes lit up in recognition as they neared their seats, just as Spencer grabbed her purse and stashed it under his shirt, dragging her milkshake over to his side of the table to make it seem like he was alone. Not the most convincing of cover ups, but it was all he had. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek called, and Spencer faked shock as best he could, though his mind was entirely consumed with whether or not Bugsy’s side of the plan was working out. 

“What are you guys doing here, I thought you were taking Savannah to that fancy place on fifth,” Spencer said, his gaze trailing behind his best friend to see Savannah and Penelope too wrapped up in chatting to catch up to the boys. Savannah turned to the woman with a polite smile, excusing herself for a moment and heading towards the bathroom. 

Shit. Spencer thought for a moment, watching the stunning vermillion dress trail off to the toilets, and Spencer was convinced then and there they were done for, Shit, shit, shit. 

Derek looked a little guilty, “You know how it is, man. We got home late from the case, missed our reservation, had to bring my lady to the next best thing. Patty’s.” Derek chuckled and Spencer smiled fleetingly, though Derek could tell it was bothered, “You here with someone-”

“Pretty boy!” Garcia cut Morgan off, bouncing over in her pretty Dorothy-red heels to where their genius was shuffling out of the booth, fidgeting with his hands nervously. “Are you here with someone, are we totally destroying your street cred?” 

“No, no. I’m here on my own, I had a hankering for milkshakes,” Spencer nodded convincingly with a taut smile as Penelope and Morgan simultaneously turned their heads to the two glasses half drunk on the table, before they looked at him with raised brows as if to wordlessly question his alibi, two milkshakes for one guy, Reid? Feeling their eyes on him, he baulked, “Like I said, hankering.”

Bugsy felt like this was some sort of Greek tragedy. 

After doing her business and washing her hands in possible record time,  Bugsy cracked open the door to the bathroom just enough to stick her head out, eyes scanning the restaurant for Penelope and Derek. She caught Penny’s Barbie blonde hair almost instantly, her sing song laugh travelling straight across the room into Bugsy’s ears and it was then she realised she was with a woman. The red dress spoke for itself, her hair was luscious and silky like she’d popped straight out a shampoo advert, her skin that of a bronze goddess, and she immediately clocked that it was Savannah, Derek’s new girlfriend, which made all the more sense when she caught their hunky co-worker talking to a very flustered Spencer. 

The girls had shamelessly stalked her instagram in Penelope’s lair at lunch just that week and sweet heavens was a catch, if not for her job as a nurse then for the toned figure Bugsy was convinced was god playing favourites. She stared at the back of the woman’s head, whatever she’d said making Penelope chuckle and turn towards her, her head pointing right towards where the women’s bathrooms were.

Bugsy slammed the door shut, quickly retreating back into the loo and yanking at her hair in a flurry of white hot panic. God, she hoped Penelope hadn’t seen her, or things were about to get ten times more difficult to explain why the two of them were out for a meal on Valentine’s Day, whilst claiming they were entirely platonic ofcourse. She wished the door had a window or she had X-ray vision or something-

A window. A window. That was it. 

Head whipping around, her eyes locked in on the two windows above each lavatory, the stall walls luckily low enough that she could see they were big enough for her to slide through if she was careful enough. 

Heading back into the cubicle she had been in, she shut the door behind her, and slammed the toilet lid down to give her a step. Her chest pounded, lips pursing when she cursed Derek and Penelope for possibly the only time in her life, because their date had been going so well. And yet here she was, cracking open a window in the diner’s toilets and she wondered for a second time if this was what her life had been reduced to. But Spencer was worth it, she told herself. She’d crawl through a million diner windows if it meant she got him all to herself. 

As if the universe was laughing at her, the second she’d swung the window open far enough for her to pull herself through, the bathroom door opened and she froze. 

Flashing a guilty look over her shoulder, her eyes widened in fear as she made direct eye contact with the woman who had entered, her lucious brown hair falling like silk over her shoulder as she stopped in her tracks, seeing the girl clear as day over the top of the stall. 

Bugsy prayed, on god’s she had never believed in she prayed that Savannah didn’t recognize her, though why would she. Unless she herself was a serial stalker. Though there seemed to be no hint of recognition in her eyes, just shock horror. 

A beat of silence passed between them. 

“Terrible date,” Bugsy said, thinking quickly on her feet and Savannah’s face melted into understanding. 

“Ah,” She nodded, “Is he a Catfish or is he a pig?” 

“Both,” Bugsy nodded with a tense smile, anything to get away from the situation where Penelope could walk in on any moment and catch her in the act. And it pained her to lie, because Spencer was the furthest thing from both of those things. 

Savannah rolled her eyes, “Sorry you have a crappy date on Valentine’s day, that sucks. Need a leg up?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” Bugsy said, standing on the cistern and yanking herself up, hoping she wasn’t flashing Derek’s girlfriend a nice shot of her ass. “You should try the calamari, it’s real good!” 

And with that she’d pulled herself through the window legs first, dropping onto the top of Patty’s garbage bins with a ‘urgh!’, hopping off the lid immediately and dodging a heinously large rat that eyed her up for desert and flicking Spencer a quick text to say she was by the car. 

Savannah chuckled with a shake of her head, heading to the toilet herself and hearing a loud bang and a curse from the other side of the wall.

Derek and Garcia watched him look down at his phone with a perturbed expression, “I really should be going anyways,” Spencer excused, his mind reeling at just how she’d managed to slip past the lot of them, though the text only read ‘Meet by car. Window.’ and he could only wonder just what the fuck she’d meant by that. 

“Are you sure we’re not interrupting, Spencer?” Garcia asked, and he only shook his head. 

“Nope, definitely not. The only date I’m late for is between me and Lord Tennyson,” He said, which was almost too on brand for him that they didn’t question it. Spencer nodded to her date and wished them all a good evening before rushing to the front desk, his card in hand as he asked quietly if they could get their burgers to go instead. 

Morgan’s eyes narrowed at his skittish behaviour, his fidgeting fingers that tugged at his shirt, the cufflinks his mom bought him for his graduation that he only wore on special occasions glittering under the swinging, overhead diner lights. 

“Is it just me or is boy wonder acting extra shifty just now?” Penelope muttered, her blonde brows furrowed behind her glasses as Morgan nodded in agreement, Savannah returning to their table with freshly washed hands, her lipstick spruced up in the bathroom mirror. 

“I was thinking the exact same thing, baby girl,” Derek smelled a rat as Reid took a brown paper bag from over the counter, flashing a swift nod back to them as he all but ran out of the restaurant, his long legs carrying him even faster than usual. 

He saw her dusting herself off by his car, and before he could even question what her message had been, she had turned her attention onto him with a spritely excitement and launched up to give him a hungry kiss to the lips. 

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea they were coming, they told me they were going uptown,” He said, his expression worried that their night had been ruined. He gripped their to go bag pathetically, and it was only then he realised she was laughing. 

“Spence it’s fine, it’s not your fault,” She reassured, pressing another delicate kiss to his face as if to ward off the negative thoughts, and he rested his free hand on her hip, trapping her between his body and the car. He pressed into her, letting himself enjoy the affection a little too much in the cover of nightfall, “We probably shouldn’t be-” He kissed her again, because he couldn’t help it, because it was like the adrenaline of almost being caught together had set his body on fire, “-doing this here though, maybe-”  Again, his hand shoving the bag of food onto the roof of his car so he had free reign to cup her face entirely, -”wait until we get home just incase they come looking for you,” 

He nodded dumbly, “Probably,” He agreed, though he watched her with those eyes that looked dark in the moonlight, pressed against her wanton hands that clawed at his chest, pulling him closer as an impossible oxymoron to her chaste words, because she didn’t want him to let go of her, not really. 

He kissed her again, hard, because his chest was still pounding from the close call and her fingers scraped his waist, the feeling jumping straight to his crotch that was already well aware of how close they had become. 

“I love you,” He said with a slight slur, idle from their affection and it was only then he opened his eyes to look at her. She looked impossibly more ravishing in the cloak of night, her eyes sparkling in the street lamps, her lips wet with his own spit, her gaze adoring and soppy and so in love, “I’m sorry if our Valentine’s day got ruined,”

“Ruined?” She said, slipping a hand into his back pocket to grab the car keys, leaning in to kiss his chin gently a couple times, “I get to spend the most romantic day of the year with my very hot boyfriend eating amazing burgers and making out on the couch until the sun comes up,” 

He smiled, cheeks warmer than the freshly cooked beef steaming through the paper bag, and he couldn’t resist shooting a hand out to stop her from rounding the car to the passenger side, grabbing her jaw in one fell swoop, lifting her head to attach their lips once more, ‘one for the road’ he would excuse when he let her go, and he felt her smile into his affection. They let go with a sweet smack, and the second they did her mouth watered for more. 

“That really is the best Valentine’s Day,” He agreed, swapping the car keys in her hands for the food and walking round to her side to open the door for her like a gentleman. 

And that was exactly how it went. Until making out turned into more, more kisses, more intimate, more parts of themselves bared to one another for the first time, and they sat in naked silence afterwards, enjoying each other's body heat until their eyes got heavy and they fell asleep. 

And Bugsy swore she would love Spencer Reid with every part of her he’d touched until the day she died. 

3. The one with the fake boyfriend.

Spencer was pouring kibble when she screamed. The bag was all but spilled over the kitchen tiles as his head shot up, his entire body diverting to the direction of her yell, and before he even had time to put the bag down, perhaps step over the two shadows that dived for the rogue biscuits tumbling to the floor, he heard her footsteps tearing from their room and into the kitchen. 

Because it was their room now. Not just his. 

She wore black pants and a tight, white shirt with her buttons only half fastened shut. His eyes shamelessly dropped straight to her chest, a black lace bra staring back at him and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the week before, wondering for a second if they had a spare half an hour before work. 

It had been eight days since they’d had sex for the first time, and the two of them were struggling all the more to keep it together. He was like a man starved of oxygen, she was a woman let out of a cage, craving one another more than they had ever thought possible. Because before he hadn’t been given that taste of sweet heaven, hadn’t known every inch of her the way he did now, and Spencer thought he might not be able to ever know anything more intoxicating than how she looked in his bed when she-

He was quick to put his hands over her cheeks as she panted, horror in her gaze as she held her phone in her hand, damn near shaken for words, “What? What is it?” 

“Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick,” She murmured, her eyes never tearing away from her phone screen, and he promptly took the device out from her grasp, his hazel hues roving over the bright light. 

His lips parted, and he felt his stomach flurry into life as he saw the raunchy photo she’d taken of her lingerie, their shared bathroom in the background and what looked to be a toothbrush in the top of the photo, clearly having been in the middle of brushing when she’d taken the photo in the mirror. 

His gaze went to the top of the screen, because he certainly hadn’t heard his phone buzz on the counter, nor would it have been such an issue if she had sent it to him, though he suspected he was the intended recipient anyway.

Spencer frowned, “Who’s MILF?”

Bugsy looked at him guiltily. “It’s JJ.” She said through a cottonmouth. 

“You know what that word means right?” He said, and she rolled her eyes because of course he was focusing on all the wrong things, though she guessed that was down to his tented trousers and the rouge that crawled up his neck into the apple of his cheeks because Spencer always found an excuse to cram silences with words.

“Yes, don’t worry, you’re the only one I want to ilf for real.” She said, a hand running through her hair in panic as she looked over his shoulder at the text conversation.

“Can’t you just delete it?” Spencer asked, his eyes scanning the photo again because it certainly would have made his morning receiving a photo like that. 

“Not on messenger, not when- oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bugsy’s voice got louder with every with every curse, and she ripped the phone from his hand when the three little dots appeared, letting her know JJ was in fact typing. Spencer was knocked from his daze staring at the photo, realising that JJ was a profiler just like any of the rest of them, and she could very easily figure out who that photo had been meant for, “She’s typing, she’s typing!”

Spencer took a deep breath for both of them, his hands resting on her upper arms in gentle motions, “Alright, let’s just calm down, she might just be a little confused, I mean you don’t usually send her photo’s like that do you?” He said soothingly, only for her to let out a small screech, and he saw ‘incoming call from MILF’ written in bright white across the top of the screen, “Okay, I’m begging you to change that name, that is so weird thinking of JJ as-”

“SPENCER,” She barked, handing him the phone, “I can’t speak right now, I don’t know what to say, I’ll screw it all up,”

His eyes widened, ushering her hand back to her ear, “I can’t answer it, then she’ll know we’re together while you look like- like that,”

“We live together, I don’t think I’ve worn pants here once in the past five years,” She whisper yelled to him, the ringing going on only longer with every dial thrumming right to her already racing heart, “Oh god, I’m gonna answer it, I’m going to- Good morning, Jennifer, how’s the oatmeal in the Jareau-LaMontagne household?”

“Please tell me that photo was meant for a guy. Or atleast Penelope,” JJ’s voice was full of surprise, and Bugsy already knew she had her fingers rubbing her eye sockets, “Are you seeing someone?”

“Uh, y-yeah?” Bugsy stammered, exchanging a wide eyed glance with Spencer, “A guy from… a bar! I’m seeing a guy from a bar,”

“Oh, Bugsy, why didn’t you say?” JJ asked with a girlish delight, and Bugsy shrugged before she remembered JJ couldn’t see that, and she had to think on her feet for a response.

“It’s just casual- it’s new and totally casual right now,” She stammered, hoping the lie was convincing enough that JJ wouldn’t poke for more answers. But it was JJ, the same JJ who loved filling Emily’s shoes as big sister when she was away, and ‘totally casual’ seemed to not make the cut for explanations. 

“Is he cute, how old is he?” JJ rebutted as she submerged Henry’s empty cereal bowl in the sink full of soapy water, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear.

The girl’s gaze trailed over Spencer’s face, where he had gone deadly silent to listen in on their conversation. He flashed her a devilish grin at JJ’s mothering tone, and she shyly looped a finger through his belt.

“The cutest,” Bugsy replied, with a small beam, and she watched Spencer’s gaze turn doting and sweet. And that time, she hadn’t been lying.

–

“Oh come on, I want to meet this guy,” JJ said, bringing her coffee cup up to her lips. It wasn’t even that Emily had asked her to look after Bug the first time she’d left for Paris, then again when she left for London, that made her so protective. Moreso that fact Bugsy was a little sister if she’d ever had something close to one. Being the youngest herself, she knew what it was like to live in her own sister’s shadow, a feeling that had followed her around her entire life. 

If JJ was missing Emily, she knew Bug was feeling the same tenfold.

Either way, the second they’d gotten into the office all of three days ago after the incident, JJ hadn’t stopped badgering her about her new secret fling she had.

“He’s busy, super super busy,” She brushed her off and Spencer smirked into his book, his desk chair turned away from where JJ leaned against her desk. Penelope’s heels clicked against the BAU floor as she wandered over to them, a steaming mug of tea in her own hand.

“Who’s super super busy?” She asked, cutting in half way through the conversation to hear only half of the story, and Bugsy shied away into her lap. 

“Bugsy’s secret boyfriend,” JJ raised her brows at the woman who almost dropped her mug, her jaw hitting the floor as she looked at the girl incredulously.

“Did my ears just deceive me? Have you been hiding something from me, cause you know I’ll hack into your social media before you could even say Barbie Dream House,” Penelope said with an aghast expression. 

“He’s just a guy I met at a bar, it’s not a big deal,” She brushed them off, already digging the lie deeper, and she only could hope the reward would be a bigger pay out when she thought back the night after the restaurant. 

She’d tell them anything if it meant she could spend another night like that. 

“Not a big deal?” JJ said doubtfully, flicking a look at the girl, “Come on, I want to meet the guy who’s the best sex you ever had,” 

Spencer slammed his book shut, and twirled around in his office chair with just enough time to watch her groan, and bury her face in her hands. 

“What was that?” He asked, his eyes lit up with a boyish excitement as he resisted the urge to smirk at her, because he felt the glare before he’d even seen it. 

“Nothing,” She snapped at him, eyes laced with an unspoken warning for him to watch his step because they weren’t stupid enough to ignore his sudden interest in her lovelife, “Don’t you have a report due?”

He shrugged with rosy cheeks, his expression that of barely concealed delirium as he watched her flush under the pressure of his prideful grin. 

“You know me, I’ll catch up on that later, let’s talk about this new thing you have,” He brushed off, just as Rossi paced past their mother’s meeting, heading for the roundtable room. 

“We have a case, kids. Life waits for no man, no matter how juicy his gossip,” David said profoundly as ever, and the four of them rose to follow behind him like a trail of ducklings. Penelope’s heels clicked at his side, and she cast a quick glance over her shoulder at where JJ was interrogating their youngest agent some more. 

“You want the 411?” She mumbled, and the old man sighed, watching the girl's floral hair ties bounce with her pigtails at every step. 

“Shoot. Wife number one ruined Real Housewives for me, I guess I need something good,” Rossi said with tired eyes, as Penelope scooched closer. 

“Bugsy has a new secret boyfriend,” The bubbly woman said in between a million watt grin.

He raised his eyebrows at her, flicking a quick look back at the girl who looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole when JJ pushed her for details on their first date. 

“No kidding,” He murmured, tilting his head in consideration how he hadn’t seen the signs, he knew well enough now to know the look of a honeymoon phase. He’d had about fifty of them. 

“Still awaiting details on how he looks, but I reckon a quick deep dive in her socials will get me what I want,” Penelope added as if putting together a report on an UnSub, though the tech wizz would argue mystery man was just as much a person of interest than any of the others they went after. 

He looked at her for a moment, her chirpy tone almost a dichotomy of the invasive stalking she was revving herself up for, and he nearly stopped in his tracks for a second. 

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” He said, with a serious undertone, shaking his head, “I’d hate to be the guy on the end of your wirey maze, Garcia,”

But Spencer’s smile had yet to be wiped from his face, in fact he thought he might just get JJ to say it again into a microphone because the ego boost was set to last a lifetime. 

He promised he’d make it up to her for the annoyingly arrogant attitude he was sporting, but then any man with half a brain would if he’d been told he was the best she’d ever had, let alone one with a brain that had already engraved the sound of that into his hypothalamus. 

And Spencer knew just how he was going to say sorry. 

–

“Wait, so does this mean that your new hypothetical boyfriend is better than Sean?” Penelope said through the screen as they lounged on the jet on the way home from the case. Hotch’s head shot up from where he was reading the newspaper, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the youngest agent before he had practically thrown himself out of his seat. 

“I’m going for coffee,” He said before anyone could interject and the sight of their boss all but running down the aisle towards the kitchenette made her throw her head in her hands once more. 

“I’m begging you, never make me talk about sex infront of Hotch ever again,” She groaned, and Rossi huffed, clamping his own book shut and shuffling past them to meet where Aaron was spending almost too much time with his head in the cupboard, “Better yet, don’t make me talk about sex with his brother infront of him again,” 

“For the record, old man number two doesn’t want to hear about who jiggles your Jimmies either,” He grumbled, and Bugsy carded her fingers through her hair, too embarrassed to look at the two men that cowered in the back of the jet. 

“Jiggles your Jimmies?” Blake repeated, her brow furrowing, “At least, I’m not that old,” 

“Stop avoiding the question, Princess,” Penelope chided, and Morgan laughed as Bugsy huffed, turning her head away as if she hadn’t heard, “Is he?” 

“That’s usually what ‘the best I’ve ever had’ means, Pen,” She snipped through blazing cheeks, and she could feel the smug-shit eating grin coming from Spencer before she’d even looked at him, “Now, could we talk about literally anything else, please?”

There was a lapse of silence where Morgan exchanged a look with JJ, and the blonde picked under her nail, trying to think of anything else to say before she cracked, because it was rare that Bugsy ever sought anyone out so fondly. 

And possibly because she knew Emily would need the complete, padded out, full update when JJ inevitably called her to rinse her with details. 

“How many kids does he want?” The words fell from JJ’s mouth, not really thinking much about the way Reid’s face was claret red. He had never liked lewd conversations. 

And he wanted to blurt out three, as many as possible, as many as she wants and then another one, but he couldn’t because that would inevitably give their secret away completely. 

“Does he have a stable job?” Blake chimed in, ever the mother considering if the mystery man would be a practical partner, “Is he gentle? Angry men make for terrible fathers,”

“Is he gentle in bed?” Penelope added, her glasses glinting in the light of her computer screen, “Does he do the thing where he-”

Bugsy growled, half way between a groan and a scream, looking between her team with wide eyes, “You’re all perverted, hedonistic, gossip girls, and I beg you leave this alone before I join Hotch and Rossi in the cupboards,” 

“Cupboards are full,” Hotch barked, almost warningly because he didn’t think he could look at her until the subject of her and Sean banging was entirely out of his head. 

And they went quiet again, seeming to take the hint that Bugsy didn’t appreciate their poking. Morgan gave her an apologetic yet amused smile as he slipped his headphones on, Blake pulled out a puzzle book, JJ retired to her side of the couch for a moment of shut eye, though her brain was filled with what she guessed Emily would say about her little sister having a real life boyfriend. 

God help the kid who tries screwing that psycho over. 

Spencer smiled dopily into his book, his hands gripping the leather bound spine tightly, and it was the first time she’d looked at him the whole plane ride. His chest puffed as he met her with a cocky smile that he barely tried to hide, and he swiftly received a kick to the shin for his rare ego. 

But he didn’t care, the sting in his leg all but none existent because she hadn’t been too cruel with her chastising, and he couldn't wait to kiss the anger out of her the second they were alone. He loved her temper, loved her fire and the warmth it gave him, and he thought then there wasn’t a single thing about her that he wished to change. Even if the scowl and pout on her face didn’t exactly suit her. 

His smile was blinding the entire way home, even when they hopped into his car, and he looked at her with ill-concealed excitement, “Better than Sean?” Spencer asked, hopefully, and she tutted, swatting his thigh. 

“Spencer,” She hissed, though his eyes didn’t leave her, waiting for a response, “Fine, yes, better than Sean. Best I’ve ever had, right?” 

Spencer all but pranced up the stairs into their apartment ready to live up to his new moniker. 

4. The one where someone finds out.

“Can I borrow your deodorant?” Bugsy asked, as she slowly slipped a piping hot cup of coffee onto Penelope’s desk, making sure not to spill so much as a drop over the edge of the cute octopus mug.

“Oh, of course!  I always have something spare for my girls.” The tech wizz was quick to fish through her bag for the aerosol, handing it to the woman as she snuck a hand under her armpit to apply. “You ever need tampons, a box of cookies, or prescription painkillers, Garci is your gal. Though preferably don’t tell Hotch about that last one,” 

Bugsy smiled, “You’re an angel,” She said, as she sprayed herself quickly, “I left my stuff in, uh, secret boyfriend’s car. If you got a spare bra lying around your bag, you’d really be a life saver,”

Penelope’s eyes turned catlike as she narrowed them at the girl, “I said I’m your gal, not Mary Poppins,” She replied, looking up at Bugsy with a smug smile as she played with the fluffy end of her pen, “So, you guys hook up in his car or something?” 

Bug pressed her lips together tightly, wondering whether she could let too much slip to the woman who was known for tracking her friends’ phones like they were damn Sim characters on the loose. And despite their relationship being so top secret, it had been five months of sneaking around. Five months of keeping her smiles and butterflies and silly little notions of just how great Spencer was entirely free from girl talk. She knew the moment they told their team, there would be questions and rumours across departments. There would be prodding and interrogating and paperwork to fill out with Hotch, and they more than likely wouldn’t be allowed to be in the field together. 

Which brought her an even more worried thought. What if she was forced to move teams? 

Spencer certainly wouldn’t be the one to move, he had practically made a home in the BAU before any of them even knew she existed. And despite the fact they felt more like a family to her than the houses in every country ever had, she would leave them if it meant Spencer could stay. 

It was different with JJ and Will. They were together, yes, had been in the field together once or twice, but it wasn’t as if they were on the same team, liable to letting their relationship muddy the waters of worklife. She wasn’t entirely sure what the rules were of relationships in the team, and she knew Hotch would become suspicious almost instantly  if she asked; knew she could only lie to him for so long about this so called secret boyfriend before he became overbearingly fatherlike and weaselled his way into her head with those stern eyes and that patient law degree. 

She nodded after considering spilling her thoughts out to Penelope, because as much as she loved Spencer and loved that he was her best friend even before he was her boyfriend, she missed girl talk. The same girl talk he had no idea how to navigate, that was a complete mystery to him with its hidden politics and rules that he was convinced were purposely made up to confuse guys so they wouldn’t be able to figure out what women were talking about. She missed having someone there to hear just how Spencer would stroke her hair before they went to sleep, when her eyes were closed and her breathing was slowly evening out and he thought she was already dozing, when she would glance at him through bleary eyes because she knew he would be watching her, his eyes wide and fat with love as he looked at her like he was a kid seeing his Christmas presents lined up neatly beneath the tree. She wanted someone else to know how he managed to make her coffee perfectly, how he would wake up five minutes before her, drag himself out of bed to brush his teeth and cook her breakfast at the weekends, how she was trying harder to stay tidy for his sake because she saw the way he cleaned her messes up for her without complaints or grumbles. Bugsy wanted someone else to know that he would kiss her like she was going to be ripped away from him at any given moment, and that she melted into a puddle at his feet when he asked to shower with her just last week and they got to spend forty minutes under the relaxing hot water, just holding each other close enough to feel every breath and smile and laugh and everything else they ended up doing when they were naked. 

She loved having him all to herself, truly. Yet there was part of her that wanted to scream to the entire office the second there was a lull in conversation that she was in love with him more truly, deeply, insatiably than she had ever imagined anyone could be. 

Penelope squealed, kicking her legs and pulling her second wheely chair out for Bugsy to sit down in, “Tell me everything, were you in the back or the front? Oh my god were you in the trunk, can you imagine that? Didn’t the seat belts get in the way? What about the handbrake? And the wheel-”

Bugsy laughed with a shake of her head, but she obliged her anyway as she threw herself into the seat, if not for a spare five minutes of relaxing before she started her paperwork. 

“Slow down! I’ll give you three questions, tops, and that’s all you’re getting out of me, Garcia,” She chuckled, cracking open her Dr Pepper can and taking a sip of the cold fizz. 

“Three?” Garcia cried incredulously, “You’re like a genie in a bottle only you withhold secrets instead of granting wishes,” 

“I can make it two if you want, smartass,” Bugsy teased, and she giggled at the way Penelope glared at her, like she was ready to lay one of her perfectly manicured nails around her throat and wrangle her for the truth in a rare bout of Penelope Garcia rage.

“Okay, umm, first question,” Penelope held a finger up, pressing her peach painted lips together because she only had three magic wishes, “What was it like, your guys first time?” 

Bugsy smiled, melting inside because speaking to Spencer about how good he was in bed seemed like a little too on the nose even for her, and she’d kept it hidden for god knows how long, “It was good, but not just good in that way. Although believe me it was good in that way too,” She said with a bashful giggle, her cheeks heating on impact and Penelope squealed, “I felt safe, and he kept telling me he loved me, and when we were done he went to the store and bought me strawberry milk because I told him it was my favourite,” 

Penelope’s eyes melted into puppy dog ones, her lips pulling to reveal her pearly white smile and she quietly ‘aww’ed at the sentiment, her brows tugging together in earnest joy as she watched Bugsy flick the metal tab of the can lid to avoid eye contact. 

“What an angel, who did you pay to find you this guy?” Penelope asked and the girl’s chuckled together. She rocked side to side on her desk chair, mid thought of her very important question, “Alright, alright, next one! Have you told Spencer yet?”

Bugsy froze, flicking a look to Penelope because surely there was no way she could have guessed from that short exchange. She knew Garcia was a hotshot behind a screen, but she would have to be given a spot as a profiler if she’d managed to figure out just from that one question who it was she was trying so desperately to keep a secret.

 “What do you mean?” She said, trying to hide the way her throat had run dry, and Penny looked at her as if she had lost a few brain cells in the midst of the honeymoon phase. 

“I mean, it sounds like you guys spend a lot of time in your room. Spence surely must have crossed paths with him by now?” Garcia clarified, and Bugsy’s brows lifted in what she hoped was well concealed panic. 

“Yes- yes,” She cleared her throat, wishing the stuttering away as she scrambled to cover her tracks, “Spencer has met him, he said he’s a great guy, real baseball whizz,” 

‘Great guy’ didn’t quite cut it, she thought with a chiding voice in her head, but she was sure Spencer would forgive her with a small bat of her lashes, a sweet kiss even. She even thought of a way that would convince him just how sorry she was for limiting him to just the word great, because he was so much more than that to her; she thought of an apology, one where he would be so smitten and drunk on kisses and other things that she could tell him he was the dumbest boy alive and he wouldn’t care. 

Because she was all his, loved him far beyond ‘great’ and the idea of that alone cut his IQ from 187 to a mere 5 on a good day. 

Penelope smirked, like she knew a sudden shortcut in her system, “Remind me to interrogate Reid later about this ‘Home Run’ you’re bringing over for bang bang,” 

Bugsy snickered, making a mental note to remind Spencer where he suddenly fell in her lie, when in truth she had been thinking about the time he’d subbed for someone on Morgan’s team. She’d been thinking about how proud he looked, how he’d smiled for days after, how Morgan and Hotch picked him up and screamed with happiness at their younger agent, but she definitely hadn’t been thinking about how his hair had looked sweaty and full of curls on his neck, hadn’t at all been thinking that his face looked that extra bit kissable when he laughed. 

If it had been Emily, she might have been screwed. She swore her sister could sniff out a lie from her like a bloodhound to a body. It was why she had always been caught sneaking out, always been caught smoking blunts behind the shed, it was why Emily knew for a blatant fact whether she was really sick when she’d claimed she was too ill to go to school. If it had been Emily, she would have been six feet under for that small white lie alone, but Garcia wasn’t Emily. And so Garcia believed her. 

“Oh, third question, you guys are being like, safe right?” Penelope said, with rare concern swirling in her dark brown eyes, and Bugsy sighed with a knowing smile, because it felt like the team did nothing but mother her nowadays, “Because as much as I would love to be an aunt all over again, I don’t think the world is ready for a baby Bugsy,”

“I know what I’m doing, Pen. My IUD doesn’t run out for another couple years, we’re totally fine,” She replied, subconsciously running a thumb over the inner part of her arm where the rod lay under her skin until she felt the odd poking of the device. Spencer had insisted he wore a condom the first few times just to be extra cautious, had begun to tell her the fact sex was only safe 99 percent of the time with an IUD alone before she had kissed him to politely and lovingly tell him to stop overthinking things. However they had run out after the sixth time, and instead of stopping to go run out and get more, he’d decided perhaps they would be safe enough, or perhaps he had stopped caring the second she took her clothes off. 

Penelope grinned, pretending to wipe her brow, “Okay, phew. If you ever need anything, I’m talking condoms, lube, maybe you guys are getting it on and you realise you’re out of batteries for your-”

“Ah,” Bugsy winced, sticking her fingers in her ears and hopping out of her seat to head for the door, the feeling that Penelope was toeing the line of boundaries the way she usually did only this time she was unknowingly talking about Spencer, “Thankyou, Garcia, however I’m going to get going, breakfast is calling, and Dr Pepper is not cutting it this morning,” She said backing away towards the door, looking at the bubbly blonde who watched her go with a cunning smile. Because Penelope always meant well, even if she trampled over boundaries sometimes, or lacked the perfect words to say, she always had the best of intentions, and for a moment the guilt tugged at Bugsy’s stomach for being so abrasive in leaving. 

“As long as you’re being safe, I am happy to know you’re getting some,” The woman brushed off, whirling around her desk to log into her software, her manicured nails clicking against her keyboard at the speed of light. 

Pausing with her hand on the door knob, she looked back at Penelope with softened eyes, a small dose of sentiment trickling into her tone, “Pen?” She said in a quiet voice and Garcia stopped, looking back to the youngest agent with wondering eyes, “Don’t ever change,”

And with that she left to grab herself a coffee, because the guilt of keeping secrets was too much for the early morning.

–

She saw him coming mid way through lunch, Penelope tucked behind Morgan’s desk, stirring a spoonful of peanut butter into her oatmeal pot, steam whirling from the container with a sweet scent. Morgan leaned against Bugsy’s workspace, his arms crossed over his chest as the two of them chattered, Bugsy picking at a punnet of fat, red grapes. 

Spencer came down the stairs, his eyes already trained on her the second he’d left Rossi’s office after handing some files over to the veteran agent, and he fought the small blush away from the apples of his cheeks. Because even after five months of calling her his girlfriend, just the sight of her glancing up at him with that look in her eyes had him bashful.

His hand dived into his bag before he could forget, a rare and near impossible occurrence for him only he’d found he had the tendency to get sidetracked when she was around, usually looking at her expressive face when she was talking, or getting lost in the light scent of her hair that wafted over to him, watching the way her hands fiddled with her stationary when she was thinking. Bugsy made Spencer Reid forget things, and it was for that reason he knew she wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, not that he needed reminding of it. 

“Here you go, you left your deodorant in my car,” Spencer exclaimed, producing a pink can from his satchell and handing it over to her with little thought to the chaos those ten words had created. 

Because Spencer had unknowingly just set off a time bomb, one that threatened five months worth of covert operations. Unintentionally, ofcourse, because those five months had been just as hard on him. He had just been excited to see her. 

Bugsy felt herself go a sickly colour, felt her stomach drop and the wind whoosh from her lungs at the sound of it and her head whipped to Garcia before she could think to be even the littlest bit subtle, because never had there been a clue about their little secret so blatant and open for the taking. 

And as if that hadn’t been the nail in the coffin, as if the small look of confusion that washed over Penelope’s face hadn’t given away the small feeling of puzzle pieces slotting together in that wonderfully big brain of hers, Spencer plonked a drink from the cafe down the street on her desk. 

It was a pink liquid, thin and sickly looking, with a whipping of fresh cream on top, and a glacé cherry to make it look extra delicious. 

“I got you a strawberry milk as well because I know you wanted one last night,” He said, a helpful smile on his face as he slid it over the table to her. It wasn’t the brand that she loved, or the Nesquik powder she kept stashes of in their cupboards, but he knew she would devour it nonetheless. 

And yet she didn’t look at him with that loving gaze like she usually did when he brought her presents. Didn’t throw him a ‘thankyou’ dipped in hidden affection, or a small squeeze of his hand that they usually could get away with because they’d always been affectionate. 

Instead, the second the words had left his mouth, her eyes went so wide he saw the whites of her sclera, saw her pupil shrink as her head jerked around to Penelope who sat in Morgan’s desk chair, the oatmeal in her hands shaking as she lifted her dirty spoon to point at the young woman. 

“Pen-” Bugsy started with a warning tone, the panic laced in her words that were quickly overtaken by Penelope’s voice yelling, her eyes equally as peeled back wide with horror.

“OH! OH! You- YOU- And the- and the milkshake- and you said- OH,” Penelope screeched flicking her porridge covered utensil like a teacher pointing at a naughty student, and she was quick to turn her attention to Reid, “AND YOU! YOU- OH GOD-” 

“Woah, woah, what’s with the yelling, baby girl?” Morgan asked earnestly, holding his hands up in surrender to the woman who had cut through the working silence of the office, some of the other agents lifting their heads from their work to see what the commotion was about. Even Hotch had shot a look to the BAU floor from his office, and judging by the annoyed look on his face as he stood up from his desk, they didn’t have a whole load of time to shut Penelope up before Hotch began demanding answers.

This was it, Bugsy told herself. This was the moment she’d been dreading, when they would be outed to the whole office, not even getting to decide when or what they told the team that could soften the blow of a cover story so huge. The moment when Hotch would likely get her to put in a transfer form by the end of the week with a slap on the wrist.

But she wasn’t ready to leave; Bugsy didn’t want to be anywhere that wasn’t with her team, even if there was a grey area in the rules about what she and Spencer could and couldn’t do in the field. 

And so she sprung towards Penelope, a hand grabbing the arms of the wheely chair Penelope sat on, looking the woman dead in the eye. 

“Hey, Pen, quick question about IT for you, I think we should head to your office, don’t you?” She said quickly, already rolling the woman back towards her lair with frantic eyes while Penelope hopped between five trains of thought, her oatmeal all but slipping from her hands, “Spence, get the door for me would you?”

“And Spencer- you said Spencer spoke to him- you said-” Garcia muttered on like she’d opened pandora’s box and peered inside to see the great wonders of the universe and returned a madwoman, her words only made more dramatic by the way she pointed in Spencer’s face as he passed by them, his own expression curved into worry as he’d quickly clicked what the tech whizz was babbling about, “BASEBALL, SPENCER- SHE SAID YOU LIKED BASEBALL-”

“Okay, am I missing something or was that an extra dose of weird and wonderful from Garcia this morning?” Blake said with narrowed eyes as the genius boy held the door open and Bugsy wheeled a yelling Garcia down the hallway to her office, the youngest agent with an oddly harsh tone as she shushed the woman. 

“Pen, I’ll explain-”

“But you- YOU!” 

“Shhh!” 

“Something’s ruffled her feathers, I can tell you that for free,” Morgan said, his eyes trailing Spencer as he strolled behind the bickering women, tucking his hair behind his ear worriedly, “That right there was a level nine Garcia freakout,” 

JJ’s brow creased, as Hotch headed down the stairs towards the trio, all too aware of the commotion Penelope’s yelling had caused while the rest of the office attempted to settle back into their reports. But it seemed everyone’s eyes trailed after the three agents heading towards Penelope’s office, watching the car crash of a moment through the freshly cleaned windows as Pen tried speaking, though yelling may be a better term for it, and Bugsy barked at her to calm down. 

“What’s level ten?” The blonde asked, her arms crossed over her chest, and Morgan shook his head.

“You don’t wanna know,”

–

“YOU TWO ARE SEXING LIKE BUNNIES AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US?” Penelope all but yelled the second Spencer shut the door behind him, and Bugsy ran a hand over her face out of embarrassment, her cheeks hot and painfully tingly. 

“Penelope, would you please keep your voice down, okay, this isn’t a big deal-” Spencer tried to interject, his palms out in a non threatening manner like level nine Garcia was an unsub they were trying to subdue. The older woman looked at him wide eyed, as if he’d just told her the sky was falling, and her mouth dropped in aghast. 

“Not a big deal- NOT A BIG DEAL? Spencer Reid, two of my best friends are screwing around in his car- your car- and you mean to tell me to calm down?” Penelope shrieked, and Spencer wondered for a moment if he was getting yelled at or she really was just that shocked, “I mean, this is groundbreaking, like more groundbreaking than the Anniston-Pitt-Joley affair, you guys are messing around right under our noses- this is like the talk of the century-” 

“W-we’re not just messing around, Garcia,” Spencer spluttered, scratching at his neck awkwardly, “I mean not that that stuff isn’t great, cause, god, of course it is,” He looked at Bugsy who smiled with an unnatural shyness, rubbing at her mouth with an anxious touch, “But it’s not just that, I really-really love her,” 

Bugsy thought she might have just melted on the spot there and then as she looked at him over her shoulder, a meek simper spreading across her face and she flicked a look back to Penelope with pleading eyes. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know it's sudden,” She said quietly, and for once Penny listened, because it was like the air had shifted to accommodate the gooey feeling of love between the youngest agents, “But he’s right, it’s not just fooling around, Pen, we’re just being us. And we wanted to keep it that way a little while,”

If there was one thing about Penelope that Bugsy knew would tug on her heart strings, was that Pen, at her core, was a romantic. She gushed over the kisses in the rain, the soppy proposals, the cheesy love confessions. And judging by the way her horror seemed to have melted away, she was entirely right, because it left behind a sparkly look in her eye that flicked between the two of them, like she was a kid watching the prince get the princess for the first time all over again. 

“Wait, so you guys are like, in love love, like wedding bells and a white picket fence with kids in the yard and all that?” Bugsy grinned, feeling Spencer’s arm lay over her shoulder, pulling her close to his side, and in a rare moment of PDA, she looked up at him with the full extent of her adoring gaze. 

“I’m vetoing the white fence, but I guess so,” She said with crude humour, and he smiled down at her, raising his brows and almost instantly they’d flung back into how it was when it was just the two of them at home. 

“Vetoing the fence? How are the kids going to play in the yard, we’ll be raising a small horde of them,” He quipped back, and she laughed, burying her face in his chest as Penelope watched with fascinated interest how they fit together the same way they always had and yet now they were suddenly different. Glowing. Golden. 

“I was thinking more of a flock but okay-”

“Are you kidding me?” Pen interjected, her tone exasperated and sweet, besotted with the sight of the youngest agents poring over one another unapologetically and she felt like slapping herself silly because how had they not noticed before. “I take it back, you guys aren’t Pitt and Joley, you’re- you’re William and Kate, you’re Neeson and Richardson, you’re just,” She sighed dreamily as the two of them glanced at her with coy smiles, entirely exposed in their sickeningly loved up stupors, “Meant to be,” 

They looked at eachother, because Pen had hit the nail on the head, the fact they’d danced around one for so long that it felt like they had always been made for one another the second they’d kissed that day in her room. Bugsy couldn’t imagine a life without Spencer in it, didn’t think she started existing really until he came knocking on her door in search of a translator. Spencer never believed in god or heaven or angels, but he knew whatever it was that had sent her to him when he was ten feet below his rock bottom, was something even a man so smart as him couldn’t explain.

Bugsy grinned toothily at the tech whizz, pointing a reprimanding finger in her direction, “You can’t tell Morgan, this is top secret,” 

Penelope’s mouth dropped its smile almost instantly in moral offence, “Wait, what? But I always tell big daddy everything,” 

Spencer face scrunched in bafflement, his lips moving before he could stop them; “Big Daddy?”, whilst Bugsy brushed off the nickname almost too unsurprised at the woman’s words.

“Please, Pen, pleeeease,” She begged, her eyes round and wide with a pleading expression that made her seem ten years younger, and Penelope looked like she was ready to crack within mere seconds , “We’ll tell everyone soon, I promise, just please give us a few more weeks to figure things out,”

And Garcia showed signs of crumbling. Not that Spencer could blame her, because Bugsy could get anything she wanted from people when she really tried. He liked to think of it as her sixth sense, sometimes wondered if she had some sort of mind control over him that she hadn’t told him about because he seemed to bend and sway to her whims almost too easily, and it was almost comforting to see Garcia facing the same struggle as she huffed, turning away from the puppy eyes that stared into her soul. 

Penelope sighed, pouting a little at the fact she’d been given an explicit instruction to hide something from Morgan, the very idea of which setting her in a dampened mood. Yet she glanced back at the two agents that held onto each other like they were awaiting lottery results, their imploring eyes trained on her and patiently holding out for a response, knowing she was the only person in the whole world who had the power to put an end to their hypothetical romcom montage they’d been swept up in for months. She bet to herself for a moment that they would have some kind of cheesy seventies or eighties hit playlist running behind all of their hidden moments and secret affections, might have Cindi Lauper’s Time After Time running when they had their first kiss, She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel when they danced in the kitchen at breakfast. 

Penelope Garcia was nothing but a hopeless romantic, and it was for that reason that she rolled her eyes with a wry smile, and Bugsy’s chest deflated with relief, her expression lighting up with joy, that Spencer was quick to replicate. 

“What would you kids ever do without me?” Garcia said with a dramatic huff, and Bugsy all but threw herself at the woman, grabbing her in a tight hug, squeezing her so hard she nearly popped a pom pom out of her hair. 

“Oh, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, I swear we’ll make it up to you, anything you want,” Bugsy said, her words flooding together with excitement as she buried her face in the woman’s blonde curls, “I swear, it’ll be a few weeks tops,” 

And with just a few more minutes of Penelope squealing over the sight of them holding hands, nearly fainting from joy when Spencer tucked Bugsy’s hair behind her ear lovingly with an adoring gaze, their secret was safe again. For a matter of a few weeks, that was. 

5. The one where he gets shot.

“We’ve got the suspect headed into El Lobito’s diner,” 

“Copy that, we’re on our way,” The sheriff reported, his radio sounding out as he approached the group where they stood around their table crammed full of suspect profiles. “We got him,” He said with a trace of relief, the preacher that had been murdering the prostitutes he pimped out finally within their grasp. 

Bugsy nodded, checking that her gun was holstered and reaching for her vest when Hotch put a hand out towards her, “Prentiss, I want you here with Rossi and I coordinating response here. Blake and Reid, you go with the sheriff to meet Morgan and JJ at the diner,” 

She opened her mouth to protest, maybe to exclaim that she was one of the best shots on the team, that there was nothing more that she could do here than if she was out in the field with the others, but Hotch’s word was always final, and she knew protesting on such a time constrained operation would only end in her unit chief giving her a timeout on the naughty step. 

So, instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, silenced whatever protest she was going to give because she knew he hated hearing her whine, and within a moment everyone seemed to jump at their orders. 

She caught Spencer’s eye as he trailed behind Blake, wishing now more than ever things could be different, because a horrible feeling settled in her gut like a rotten fruit, churning her stomach with horrid thoughts that Spencer was heading straight for the line of fire and she couldn’t so much as give him a hug without it seeming odd. 

She wished more than ever she could grab him in a kiss that Hotch would pretend to not see, that he would understand because the entire team fretted over one another when the cards were dealt and the guns were loaded, wished she could tell Spencer over and over that he needed more than anything to make it back to her safely because she wouldn’t know what to do with all the love she had for him if he wasn’t there to take it. 

Except she couldn’t. Not here. Not so public. 

So instead she flashed him a nod that said a million words and more. I love you, I love you, I love you Spencer Reid. Come back to me because I love you more than life itself, Spencer Reid.

And Spencer got the message, the exchange looking like a plain tilt of the head between coworkers, as he strolled out of the precinct, checking his gun was loaded in his holster. 

His eyes read clear back to her what his reply was, though maybe it was just their spidey sense working overtime, she could have swore she read his mind in the split second that their gaze met. 

I’ll try. I’ll try with everything to come back to you. 

–

“Copy that, two of ours, three of theirs,” Cruz said with little to no inflection as he held out the speaker phone to the middle of the room, and Bugsy felt her breath catch in her throat as she waited for Alex to go on, “Any casualties?”

“One,” She replied, and the Prentiss woman felt her head go funny at the sound of it, “Coleman. Morgan has a superficial wound to his shoulder, little winded from getting shot in the vest but Reid is..” 

Blake trailed off, her throat choking up with emotion as she watched the boy be loaded onto the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. 

“What?” Hotch pressed, and Bugsy would have to thank him later because she could have sworn words had failed her by now. 

“Reid’s been hit in the neck,” She felt her legs go numb, the world spinning around her like someone was playing a cruel joke on her, like she was falling down, down, down into the rabbit hole, down into wonderland, where Spencer was hurt, badly, and she hadn’t been there to stop it. “It’s looking… bad,” 

Hotch flicked a glance at her where they stood in the precinct, and it was only then she realised all the air had whooshed from her lungs in what she suspected had been something between a gasp and a ‘no’, though she couldn’t say for sure because her hearing had been knocked clean from her, a high pitched whine of white noise ringing in her ears, like she’d knocked the signal from a TV, like her brain had been filled with static the second Blake’s voice floated through the phone.

“Bugsy,” It sounded underwater, and suddenly it was too difficult to swallow, until she realised the feeling was that she might just throw up, and she stepped towards the precinct door in some sort of haze, rustling around her pockets for the keys to the SUV, “Bugsy, wait!” 

There was a hand on her shoulder spinning her around as she was hit in the face with cool air, and suddenly Hotch was there, his umber eyes full of concern, Rossi not too far behind him, and it took her Unit Chief all of one swipe to snatch the keys from her. 

“I- We have to go, Hotch- we have to see him,” She babbled, and she was surprised at the fact she didn’t feel like crying. She expected to feel the burn behind her eyes, the tingling and tightness in her throat, only to come up blank. Like her body had taken a back seat, her head working on autopilot because she needed to see spencer for herself, “They need to know he can’t have any narcotics- I need to make sure it’s on his sh-sheet,” 

Her teeth were chattering. It was the middle of July, why were her teeth chattering?

“I know, I know, he’s in good hands,” Hotch said, in a way that told her he wasn’t being Hotch, that right now he was Aaron. He put a hand on her shoulder, the size of it dwarfing her and he looked at her like he was explaining to Jack why he couldn’t have chocolate before bed, “I know, we’ll go tell them right now, honey. Just let me drive the car.” 

She nodded without really hearing him, and Rossi opened the front passenger seat door for her, a grandfather’s hand on her back that helped her up into the jeep, because she seemed ready to take a tumble at any point, walking like her knee caps were made from jelly. 

“Has Blake said anything else?” She said, her voice entirely childlike, and David would bet any amount of money that it was the shock. He took a look at her, the way her fingernails were picking around each other already in a bad habit he could already guess came from Emily, and Aaron hopped into the driver’s side of the car, leaning over to grab her seatbelt for her. 

“Not yet, kiddo,” Rossi replied, his eyes soft like a teddy as she nodded dejectedly, and he closed the door on her side of the vehicle, opening the back for himself, Hotch mother henning over her. 

Aaron had expected her to worry, god knows he was well aware that Spencer and Bugsy struggled to function when they weren’t close by. He chided himself for splitting them up, yet he’d thought he was doing his best keeping his team in two equal sized groups both in the field and in the precinct. With JJ’s suspicions of a mole in the police force, Hotch and Rossi needed back up just as badly as the others. And god forbid he had selfishly tried to watch over her. Not because he didn’t think she was capable, but because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened while he’d sent her after an UnSub. 

He knew it was wrong to pick favourites, and truthfully if he had to he’d say, his whole team meant something like family to him. But Bugsy was the youngest, the baby if you would, she was mellower than she liked to pretend she was, and she’d carved a small soft spot in his side that he would struggle to get rid of. 

Only now Reid was down, and with him went Bugsy. 

Hotch started the car, quickly navigating his way to the hospital where he knew his team would more than likely already be racing towards in the same state of panic. He caught the way her knee thudded on the carpeted floor, where she tapped her ankle and it took a small glance to his right to see her chewing at her cuticles silently. 

“Bug, he’s in good hands,” He repeated, and she nodded though she didn’t seem to really be listening, “He’s going to be alright,”

Yet part of Aaron felt like he was telling himself that as much as he was telling her. Because if something happened to Reid, he didn’t think any of them would be the same again.

–

Blake heard her before they saw her, the way Hurricane Bugsy usually went.

“I swear to god, you had better let me through this door right now, or I will have your superior on speed dial by the end of the week-” She snapped, her panic quickly turned vitriol anger as the desk assistant who tried blocking her way into the critical unit looked at her somewhat mortified that his job was walking along a fine line. 

Hotch and Rossi had gone straight to where Morgan sat resting in a separate ward, trying to gather more information about the shooter since Morgan had seen the UnSub first hand.

Blake’s head shot up, the wetness around her lashline stinging with guilt as she watched the youngest agent tear through the waiting room as if looking out for blood. Alex was out of her seat on shaking legs, heading towards the girl who she knew would go down in a blur of swings and insults for Spencer Reid. 

“Bug, honey, hey,” Alex’s tone was motherly, as were her soft hands that she placed on the girl’s shoulders, and it didn’t become clear that the source of distress was from a place of fear instead of anger until the girl whipped around to face the voice, and Blake saw the redness rimming her eyes where she had forced the weeping away, likely putting on a brave face and high walls to stop the real emotion swirling inside her. 

Bugsy looked at the older woman, and that was all it took for her lip to quiver. It didn’t help that Alex threw her arms around her, pulling her in for a soft hug, one she had never gotten from Elizabeth Prentiss, one she had been craving her whole childhood, a mother that held her tight and told her she was going to be okay. 

“What happened?” She said, the sob crawling up her throat, bleeding into her words and muddying them with tears, and Alex had to swallow thickly to keep down the wail that pressed tight against her tongue, “What happened?” 

“He pushed me out the way,” She said with a shaky voice, and it took everything inside herself not to cry right there with her. “UnSub was aiming right for me, Spencer grabbed me and pushed me out the way. By that point it was too late, he’d already pulled the trigger, I’m so sorry honey,” 

“Don’t be s-sorry,” She hiccuped pathetically, clinging onto Blake like she was her only lifeline, perhaps the only thing keeping her standing, “I’m glad you’re okay, I was s-so worried,” 

Alex nodded, knowing she might just start crying then and there with the youngest agent if she were to open her mouth, and instead she chose to press a delicate kiss to her temple, hoping it would have to do since the infamous Emily Prentiss wasn’t there to comfort her sister. She seemed to quieten down enough in the embrace that Alex could pull away, her hands still on the girl’s shoulders. 

“I was just doing a crossword if you wanted to join me?” Alex said, which was a half truth since she had been too bothered to get past even the first three clues, and Bugsy nodded, her mind immediately spewing a million mornings of her and Spencer fighting for space at her desk to do the daily crossword. 

She couldn’t think like that, couldn’t think of him as if he was gone. Because he wasn’t, he was simply down that hallway, in the hands of surgeons who could slash his throat if they made even the smallest of nicks wrong-

“Yeah, I would like that,” Bugsy nodded with a sniffle, wiping her cheeks with her cuff, feeling pathetic and entirely regretful for bursting into the waiting room with a million emotions and no idea which one to feel first. 

She had never been good at putting a name to how she felt, only this time, if Alex were to ask her, she knew she would say she felt guilt. Guilt for not being there to help them, for hiding things from them for almost seven months now, for not telling Spencer she loved him more, not reminding him every second of every day, guilt that everyone was hurting over Spencer taking a knock and yet she was the only one who couldn’t smush it down into a box and put on a brave face. 

Because she couldn’t even if she tried. The trojans had a horse, Rocky had Creed, and she had Spencer. She was all mouth and courage and stone faced until it came to him. He was her Achilles Heel.  

She looked over Alex’s shoulder, pointing at seven across, and sighed with the horrific irony of the clue. A feeling of deep regret and remorse. 

“Contrition” She said, slumping into the chair as Alex penned the answer in with a wobbly lip. 

It was going to be a long night. 

–

Hotch found her by the vending machine, looking between the Dr Pepper and the Full Fat Coke like one of them would be able to tell her how to feel. She knew he was waiting for her, knew they had a job to do, but she couldn’t make herself move. She felt like the hospital linoleum had claimed her as its own, like she had melted into the squeaking surface until further notice. 

He was out of surgery by now, already in his room resting. It was just a matter of waking up really, and then they would see how bad things were, though by the sounds of it the doctors had hopes for a miraculous full recovery. 

Two centimetres to the right and it would have been an entirely different story, that’s what the surgeon had said. She was two centimetres away from losing the person she loved more than she ever knew was possible, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. 

She thought for a second then, that if Spencer proposed the second he woke up she would probably say yes. Because she’d said it herself, her life had never been her life until it had him in it. 

“Bugsy,” Hotch tried, but her head had turned down, her chin pressing into her collar and it was then her shoulders began shaking, “Bug, come on, he’s going to be okay,”

She shook her head, biting down hard on her lip to stop a whimper of raw pain coming out, “I should have been there, I could have stopped it, I could have covered him,” She mewled, feeling him wrap a hand around her shoulder, and it was only then he tugged her towards him, letting her whimper into his chest as she clung onto him. 

“I know, I know it’s hard, but he’s going to make a full recovery,” He said in that cotton soft, loving tone usually reserved for Jack when he woke up from nightmares, “None of this was your fault, sweetheart, you have to know that-”

“I can’t do this without him, Hotch,” She said, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes, and it pained him more than he’d ever admit to see her look so distraught. Memories of when Emily left flooded him and he felt all over again the painful shell she’d crawled into make an appearance, “I can’t,” 

It was a beg, a plea for mercy, a cry for help, and he could do nothing but nod, because he understood. If any of his team died, his team who he loved like a family, he thought he would crumble all the same. 

Only he knew it was different. He’d always known, deep down, why it was different for them. He saw the way Spencer had always looked at her, how damaged and tormented Bugsy’s eyes were as she looked at him now. And he knew. 

“I know, honey,” He said soothingly, stroking hands over her cheeks to dry them for her, because he couldn’t stand to see her so sodden with tears, “But you know what? You’re going to pick yourself back up until Reid gets better, because we have an UnSub to catch-”

“Hotch, I can’t,” She shook her head, but Hotch only pulled her closer, his eyes boring into hers with more affection than her father had ever shown her. “I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. You know why?” He asked, and she went quiet, shaking her head with a pitiful sniff, “Because I have never once stopped believing in you, even when you hated me, even when you had a damn building dropped on you, even when you were a reckless kid running away from your own wedding, I never stopped thinking that you were the bravest person I’ve ever known. And Spencer never stopped believing in you either,”

Her throat closed up all over again, her eyes wide and threatening to wash her skin with tears all over again as she nodded timidly. 

“Okay?” Hotch said, and she nodded again. He rooted around his blazer pocket for a handkerchief, passing it off to her before he reached for the top button of her shirt. He unbuttoned it with a gentle thumb, poofing her neckline out so she could breath a little better through her dying cries, “Why don’t we get that collar loosened a little for once, huh? Get you a soda, and then we’re going to make this son of a bitch pay for what he did to Reid,” 

Bugsy nodded again, feeling a hundred percent better the second air got onto her throat, and she saw glimpses of what he was like as a dad. Part of her wished then that things would have been different, that maybe she would have had a dad like him, one that knew how to fix things. One that knew just what to say to make her smile. 

He produced a five dollar bill, holding it up for the vending machine to eat as he turned to her, “Alright, now which one are you having?” 

Bugsy thought she might just love Aaron Hotchner ten times more than she already had. 

+1. The one where they tell everyone

She swore she had never run through hospital halls so fast. 

Blake had called her to update her about Garcia shooting the UnSub who posed as a doctor to try and administer lethal doses of medicine to Spencer, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d pulled a gun on her boyfriend and her tech whizz best friend. 

And Penelope had shot him. Killed him. All to save Spencer. 

And she supposed she needed to thank Penelope soon, that she would need to get the girl her own bunch of flowers like the ones she’d quickly excused herself to grab while Hotch and Rossi went straight up into Spencer’s hospital room, even when Aaron had tried to wait for her thinking she was having another crisis of faith, she had ushered him along and told him it was bad form to show up without a card at least. 

She burst through the doors like a bat out of hell, and the sight of Spencer in the scrubs, thick gauze wrapped around his neck made whatever resolve she’d been storing dissolve immediately. Her face crumpled in a cry, and he barely had time to carefully turn his head towards the door, before she had launched herself at him, the flowers and card she had gotten him from the hospital gift shop forgotten and tossed to the floor. 

She would apologise later, because she had ruined his presents despite the sentiment being there; for now she needed to feel him, make sure he was real and breathing and alive the way she’d told herself he wouldn’t be. 

“Bug-” His voice was raspy, no doubt having been drifting in and out of sleep for the past few hours, or even if the doctors had told him to rest his throat so as not to affect the thin, delicate stitches. But it didn’t matter much to her, she didn’t even let him finish anyway before she threw herself at him, minding his wound as she wept onto his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, “Bugsy, it’s okay, I’m okay,”

But she couldn’t even speak, couldn’t even tell him to stop trying to reassure her, stop trying to make her feel better because he was the one in pain. She felt like a coward; she hadn’t even pulled herself together enough to see him before, when he had still been sleeping. The sight of him on that bed, his eyes squeezed shut… she had turned tail and run before she even gave him a chance. Knew she wouldn’t be able to hold herself together on the case if she went into his room and pretended everything was going to be fine the way Garcia and Blake were doing. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll stop-” She hiccupped, lifting her head up to look at him through distraught, reddened eyes, and she saw his face morphing into pure sorrow, his own hazel hues wide with grief because he hated seeing her in so much pain. 

And she couldn't stop herself, her hands migrated to his cheeks, steering clear of the suture. She didn’t think of the other eyes in the room, or the fact only Penelope knew, she suspected Hotch might have caught on by now anyway, she didn’t frankly care. She wanted to feel him against her, to know he was still hers. 

Bugsy kissed him like he was about to be ripped away from her at any given moment, and had she been in any other mindset she might have cared about the fact she could taste the salt of her tears, that he froze under her brazen affection, or that she surely looked a state after what the past twenty four hours had put her through. She didn’t care when she heard a gasp, or felt stares, only that Spencer kissed her back, possibly the most tender he had ever been, his hands soft and featherlike as they traced over her waist to pull her closer. He tasted like Jell-O, and she thought it might just be her favourite flavour suddenly, because it was all him. 

She pulled away with a sniffle, looking entirely sorry for herself and like a kicked puppy, and she was quickly ripped out of her delirium that allowed her to look at him without guilt or hesitation by a loud whistle. 

“Now how long have you kids been holding that out?” Morgan jeered, and Bugsy cracked a smile, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve as she looked at her team. JJ and Penelope clung to one another with ditsy smiles, like they were watching John Cusack playing the boombox over his head at the bedroom window, Rossi stood with his arms crossed, a nostalgic smile on his face as he watched the kids he’d seen grow up finally seem like they were at home. Morgan looked ready to tease some more until Blake put a hand on his shoulder, entirely motherly and chiding, and Hotch looked at her and her alone like he was looking in a mirror.

He supposed, for once, the bau had found a happy ending. 

--

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