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earthchica · 5 days ago

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On The Run

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: Terry is hired by Mara, your queenpin stepmother, to track you down in exchange for intel on his cousin Mike's killer. But once he see you, he becomes captivated and torn between his task and his feelings. When he uncovers the real motives at play, the question remains: will he save you or abandon you to danger?

warnings: light smut 18+, lapdance, kissing, dirty talking, angst, violence, slight AAVE, queenpin, guns, mention of blood, on the run, nicknames [ baby, baby girl, sweetheart & more ] words: 4k

note: This had been in drafts for a while lol, I know I used the picture already, but he looks so good. I hope you enjoyed it; there may be some errors.

songs darling nikki by prince grip by normani just us by DJ Khaled, SZA

You've been running away from the web of the notorious queen pin Mara, aka your stepmother, for almost five months now. She killed your father and took over his family business, which rightfully belonged to you, and she still hasn't stopped looking for you.

To keep a low profile, you haven't stayed in one place for too long and have used different names, jobs, and identities. During your escape, you traveled to at least 20 other states and met some great people who knew your father; they provided you with tools to survive and taught you how to fight, use a gun, and protect yourself.

You are currently in New Orleans, where you've taken a job at a strip club and changed your appearance and name to Nicole, though everyone calls you Nikki. You're friendly and kind to everyone, but you never get too close to anyone—though tonight, that might change.

You adjusted your honey blonde lace front wig in the mirror and breathed deeply to steady your nerves for the upcoming performance. The locker room smelled of perfume and hairspray, a scent you had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

Your bold makeup was flawless—smoky eyes, long lashes, and deep red lips that matched your crimson lingerie. Standing up, you admired your hourglass figure in the full-length mirror.

The push-up bra lifted your ample breasts, while the thong connected to the bra emphasized your wide hips and short legs. You ran your hands down your sides, smoothing the delicate lace.

Despite the confidence your appearance gave you, you couldn't shake the constant undercurrent of fear. How long before Mara found me here? Would tonight be the night I had to run again? You ask yourself that all the time.

A sharp knock at the door startled you from your thoughts. You froze, your heart racing. "Who is it?" You called out, trying to keep the tremor from your voice.

"It's just me, love. Candy," A voice came from one of the other strippers. "Um…you're on in five,"

"Oh! Thank you," You replied, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, adjusted your wig, and headed to the main floor.

The club was dim, hazy with smoke, and pulsing with the rhythm of the music. You entered the crowd, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

As you approached the stage, you saw him—the mysterious man who had been coming here all week. He sat alone at a table near the front, his intense greyish-blue-green eyes fixed on the stage.

Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed he had gotta cornrow braids that made him undeniably fine; you had fallen for his strong features and full lips.

The opening chords of "Darling Nikki" by Prince filled the air, your cue to take the stage. You sauntered up the steps, your wide hips swaying in time with the music. As you wrapped your hands around the pole, you locked eyes with the mysterious man.

His gaze was magnetic, drawing you in. You began your routine, your body moving fluidly to the provocative lyrics. You spun around the pole as you twirled around the pole.

You felt his eyes following your every move. You arched your back, running your hands down my body, your fingers grazing the lace of your lingerie.

The music pulsed through you, guiding your movements as you danced for him. You slid down the pole, your legs spreading wide as you hit the floor.

His eyes widened slightly, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips. You crawled towards him, your hips swaying hypnotically. The rest of the club faded away; it was just you and him.

"What's your name, handsome?" You purred, your voice low and sultry. He leaned forward, his muscular arms resting on the edge of the stage.

The beautiful man paused momentarily, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "It's…TJ," he said, his voice rich and resonant, flowing with a warmth reminiscent of aged whiskey poured into a crystal glass.

It had a soothing, almost inviting quality. He glanced at you expectantly before continuing, "And yours?" His gaze was steady, a mixture of curiosity and intrigue illuminating his features.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your leg high in the air. "Nikki, sweetie. So…TJ," you said, running your hand along your thigh.

"I've seen you watching me all week. What brings you here night after night?"

TJ's eyes traveled the length of your body before meeting yours. "I think you know, Miss. Nikki. Just enjoying the show, and maybe something else."

"Wow, really? Interesting," You drawled, rolling your hips as you pushed yourself up to a standing position. "Most fellas are throwing out all kinds of lines, but you playin' it cool."

TJ's pretty eyes never left yours as he leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk on his lips. "I ain't most fellas, mama."

You strutted closer to the edge of the stage, your movements fluid and sensual. "I can see that. You got that look about you like you've seen some thang."

"Could say the same about you," TJ replied, his voice low and smooth. "Pretty girl like you, dancing' in a place like this. Bet you got stories to tell."

You chuckled, bending down to meet his gaze. "Oh honey, you ain't even ready for my stories." You said softly. "Try me," he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

You ran a finger along his jawline, feeling the rough stubble beneath your touch. "Maybe I will if you stick around after my set." TJ caught your wrist gently, his thumb brushing over your pulse point.

"You ain't gotta worry 'bout me leavin, darling Nikki'," TJ said, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. "I've been waiting all week for this moment."

You leaned in closer, your lips barely grazing his ear. "Well, ain't you just the patient type? I like a man who knows how to wait for what he wants."

The music faded, signaling the end of your set. You pulled back, giving TJ a wink before sauntering off the stage. You could feel his eyes burning into your back as you went to the dressing room.

Once inside, you took a deep breath, your heart racing. Despite your better judgment, something about TJ drew you in. You quickly freshened up, changed into a short black dress, reapplied lipstick, and brushed your hair.

When you emerged, TJ was waiting by the bar, and you ordered a drink, and he offered you a toast. "Preciate you, boo," you said, taking a sip.

The alcohol burned pleasantly down your throat.

TJ leaned against the bar, his eyes roaming over you. "So, Miss Nikki, you gon' tell me what a fine thang like you is doing in a place like this? 'Cause I can tell you ain't like these other girls."

You took another sip of your drink, savoring the burn. "What makes you say that, TJ? Maybe I'm just tryna make a livin' like everybody else."

TJ chuckled, the sound profound and rich, making your heart flutter. "Nah…you got that look in your eye. Like you runnin' from something Or somebody."

You felt your heart skip a beat but kept your face neutral and cleared your throat. "You sure think you know a lot about me, considering we just met."

TJ leaned in closer; his cologne smelt so damn good that you had to bite your lip. "I'm good at reading people. It's what's kept me alive this long."

"Oh yeah, really, huh?" You challenged, arching an eyebrow with a light smile. "And what exactly have you been doing, that's got you worry 'bout stayin' alive?"

TJ grinned, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites. "Now that's a story for another time, baby girl. Tonight, I'm more interested in hearing about you."

You laughed, tossing your hair over your shoulder. "You sure know how to sweet talk a lady, right? But I ain't spilling my secrets to anybody, no matter how fine they look."

TJ's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Aight, aight, I see how it is. How 'bout private dance?" he asked with a smile, and you smirked, considering his offer.

"Alright, big spender. Follow me." You led TJ to one of the private rooms in the back, your hips swaying with each step. Once inside, you gently pushed him onto the plush velvet couch.

"Now baby, you just sit back and enjoy the show," You purred, dimming the lights. As the sultry beat of "Grip" by Normani filled the room, you began to move.

Your body was rippled to the rhythm, hands sliding down your curves. You turned your back to TJ, looking over your shoulder as you slowly unzipped your dress.

"Damn," TJ breathed, his eyes glued to your every movement. "You finer than frog hair split four ways."

You chuckled, letting the dress fall to the floor, revealing the beautiful black lineage that highlighted your curves. "You got a way with words, don't you?"

You straddled his lap, grinding your hips against him, and you could feel him hardening beneath you. "Mmm, somebody's excited," you teased, running your fingers through his cornrows.

TJ's hands gripped your waist as you rolled your hips slowly and sensually, feelin' his grip tightened on your waist. "Shit…you gon' be the death of me," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

"Oh baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet," You purred, running your hands down his chest. You could feel his heart racin' beneath your fingertips.

You stood up, turning your back to him as you bent over, giving him a perfect view of your ass. You looked over your shoulder, catching his hungry gaze.

"You like what you see, handsome?"

"Shiiit," TJ breathed, adjusting himself in his pants. "You know I do, baby girl."

You straddled him again, this time facing away from him. You ground your hips in figure eights, feeling' his hardness pressed against you. TJ's hands roamed your body, caressing your thighs.

You continued to grind against TJ, your movements slow and deliberate. "You like that, baby?" You purred, looking over your shoulder at him.

"Mmm…yes," TJ groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter. You chuckled as your body undulating to the rhythm. You ran your hands down your sides, over your breasts, down your stomach.

TJ's eyes followed every movement, his gaze hungry. "Damn, girl," he breathed. "You finer than frog hair split four ways," You smirked, stepping closer.

"You already said that, baby. You runnin' outta lines?" You teased, and TJ grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. "Nah. I got plenty more. You just got me, girl."

You laughed, the sound low and sultry, pressing your ass against him as you started to twerk. Your cheeks clapped against his lap in time with the beat.

"Sweet Heaven," TJ muttered. "You shakin' that thang, shaking that ass for me" You looked over your shoulder, giving him a wink.

"You like that? Want some more?" you whispered in his ear, brushing your lips softly against his ears. "Yes," he breathed, eyes glued to your ass.

You stood up, turnin' to face him again, and bent over, puttin' your hands on his knees as you shook your chest in his face. Your breasts bounced against his chin, and TJ's breath hitched as he struggled to stop himself from what he was about to do next.

His phone buzzed, reminding him of his purpose for being here. You looked into his eyes, already locked on you, and you grew confused by the change in his expression.

The door swung open with a smash that echoed like thunder in the small room. My heart dropped, and you whipped around to see your half-brother, Myles, striding in with an intensity that could slice concrete.

Two bodyguards flanked him. "Good job, Terry," Myles said, his voice calm and composed despite the intensity in the room. You got off TJ—or Terry, whoever the hell he was—and put your dress back on.

"Hello, Y/N… it's so great to see you again, sister," Myles says bitterly. Your heart begins to race as fear crosses your face, and you look between Myles and Terry in disbelief.

You tried to escape, but Terry grabbed you by the arm. You looked up at him in fear and pleaded, "Please don't do this! They're going to kill me. You don't know-."

"Hand her over, Terry. You're working here; it's done," Myles said, moving in closer, but Terry was hesitant and still looked at your pleading eyes.

"What do you plan to do with her?" Terry asked, looking at Myles with his jaw clenched. Myles laughed as he glanced between the two guys behind him.

"Why does it matter to you?" he replied, puzzled. You were looking between Myles and Terry, your heartbeat racing and struggling from his grip, and Terry's eyes frowning.

"A deal is a deal. You want Y/N; I need that fucking information now." Terry said, raising his voice. Myles pulled something from his jacket and tossed it onto the ground.

"There, now give me her; I'm not about to ask again," Myles demanded, stepping closer while his bodyguards braced their guns. Terry appeared conflicted.

You couldn't wait for him to decide whether to help you. So, you bit his arm, punched him in the gut, and made a run for the other door to the dressing room.

You escaped, quickly grabbing your bag before you bolted toward that exit door, your heart racing still like a wild stallion, and chaos erupted behind you.

The sound of gunshots rang out, sharp and jarring, slicing through the air like a knife. People screamed, their voices blending into a cacophony of panic.

You could feel the chaos vibrations pulse through the floor under your feet—like an earthquake of fear. Finally, you skidded to a halt outside, breathless and wide-eyed.

You ran and ran until suddenly, a hand clamped over your mouth from behind, pulling you into the shadows of a dark alleyway. You fought against it instinctively, adrenaline surging through your veins.

"Relax, it's me, Terry!" Terry hissed urgently, his breath warm against your ear. His grip tightened momentarily before he loosened it slightly.

He said it like you should be happy.

You shoved him away and punched him in his jaw, and Terry grunted in pain. Terry asked, "Fuck, what did you do to make going through all this trouble over just you."

"You should know since you were hired to find me," You snapped, your voice shaking with anger and fear. "Don't play dumb now, not after all this."

Terry's eyes narrowed, searchin' your face like he was tryna solve a puzzle. "I swear. I was hired to find a girl who ran from her family. Knew nothin' 'bout any of this. This is some next-level shit."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, so now you wanna act like you don't know? You think I'm gonna fall for that…I know my psycho stepmother hired you. Fucking bitch killed my daddy and took over his business. Now she wants me dead, too."

Terry's eyes widened slightly. "Damn, that's some heavy shit. I swear on everything, I ain't know none of that." you stared at Terry, your mind racin' as you tried to understand what he was sayin'.

"You didn't know, huh?" You asked, crossing your arms while looking him up and down, and Terry winced. "So what are you…shitty…bounty hunter from Craigslist?"

"You know what…" Terry grunted, his breath coming out in short gasps. "I'm not trying to get caught up in no family drama with psycho killers. This way above my pay grade."

You noticed the dark stain spreading on his shirt, realization hittin' you like a ton of bricks. You covered your mouth, "Shit, you have been shot!"

Terry looked down, seemin' surprised by the blood. "Dammit," Terry grunted in pain, his face contorting as he pressed his hand against his side.

He muttered something under his breath, stumbling slightly as he turned away from you. "Where you goin'?" You called out, your voice echoing in the dark alley.

"Away from you," Terry growled, his voice strained. "This whole situation's more trouble than it's worth." You reached out, grabbing his arm.

"Hold up, you can't just walk away. You need a doctor, Terry. You're bleedin' bad." You said softly, and he yanked his arm away, wincing at the movement.

"No doctors. They ask too many questions." Terry grunts; you can see the blood seeping through his fingers, staining his shirt a deep crimson.

"Then let me patch you up, " you said, moving before him. Terry's eyes narrowed as he studied your face. You could see the internal struggle playing out in his expression.

"Look… I get you don't trust me, and I don't trust you, but maybe we can try; both of us need each other right now," you assured him, raising your hands in a calming gesture.

Finally, Terry let out a long, heavy sigh and nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "Alright, then. Fine. Follow me." Both of you moved through the city's shadows, Terry leading you down a maze of back alleys and narrow streets.

The neon signs and distant sirens faded away as you both delved deeper into the forgotten corners of the urban sprawl. Finally, you stopped before a dilapidated brownstone, its windows boarded up and its facade crumbling.

Terry fumbled with a set of keys, his hands shaking slightly from the pain or blood loss - maybe both. He managed to get the door open and ushered you inside.

The interior was a stark contrast to the building's exterior. It was clean, if sparse, with mismatched furniture and a few bare necessities scattered about.

Terry collapsed onto a worn leather couch, his breathing labored. "The First aid kit's in the bathroom," he grunted, gesturing towards a door on the far side of the room.

"It's under the sink."

You hurried to retrieve it, your mind racing with questions you knew better. You rushed to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

The first aid kit was right where Terry said it'd be, and you grabbed it, hurrying back to the living room.

Terry had removed his shirt, revealing a muscular torso and a few tattoos. The gunshot wound was on his left side, still oozing blood.

"Alright, big guy," you said, kneeling beside him. "This is going to hurt, but I gotta clean it first," you added, and Terry nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

You poured some antiseptic on a cloth and started cleaning the wound. He hissed in pain, his muscles tensing under your touch. "So," You said, tryna distract him from the pain. "How'd a fine thing like you get mixed up in all this mess?"

Terry chuckled, then winced. "It's a long story, sweetheart."

"Well, we got time," You replied, focusing on the wound. "That bullet's still in there. I'm gonna have to dig it out." You said, grabbed a pair of tweezers.

You sterilized the tweezers with some alcohol, your hands shaking slightly. "This is gonna hurt like hell, Terry. Are you ready?"

Terry nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "Do what you gotta do, baby girl." Your heart flutters at the nicknames, and you take a deep breath and start probin' for the bullet.

Terry's body rigidified, and a low groan escaped his lips. You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead as you concentrated and tried to be gentle.

"Almost got it," You murmured, more to yourself than to Terry. "Just a little bit… there!" You pulled out the bullet, droppin' it into a small dish with a metallic clink. T

Terry let out a long, shaky breath. "Damn, girl," he panted. "You got steady hands. Do you do this often?"

You chuckled, applying pressure to the wound. "No…now hold still while I patch you up, " you said, working on cleaning and dressing the wound and stitching him up.

Terry watched you intently; his eyes were clouded with pain, but there was a mixture of something else there: lust and curiosity. You finished patching up Terry's wound, securing the bandage with medical tape.

"There," you said, sitting back on your heels. That should hold for now, but you really should see a doctor." You said, taking a breath, and Terry flexed his side gingerly, testing the bandage.

"Where'd you learn to patch up bullet wounds like that?" Terry asked, and you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you packed up the first aid kit.

"Let's just say I've had practice," you said with a light smile, and he returned. "Thanks," Terry said softly, his hand touching your arm.

"I mean it. You didn't have to help me after everything." Terry said gently, and you nodded, finally meeting his eyes. "It's fine! If you don't mind, I need to change out of this dress, and I'll be on my way."

You stood up and paused when Terry's hand tightened on your arm. "Wait," he said, his voice low and urgent. "You can't go out there alone. It ain't safe."

You scoffed, pulling your arm free. "My life ain't been safe for a long time. I can handle myself." You turned to face Terry, your eyes searchin' his face for any sign of deception.

All you saw was genuine concern and maybe something else, a spark of interest that made your heart skip a beat. "Look," Terry said, his voice low and deep.

"I can't let you walk out that door knowing what's waiting for you out there. You need protection, and I can offer that," Terry explained. Of course, you hesitated.

"And what makes you think you can protect me any better than I can protect myself?" you questioned, and Terry stood up slowly and towered over you.

His broad shoulders blocked out the dim light from the single bulb overhead. "Because I know things, I can help make you disappear. And right now, that's what we both need."

You chewed on your bottom lip, considerin' his words. The smart thing would be to walk away, to disappear on your own like you'd been doin' for months.

But somethin' about Terry made you want to stay. "Okay." Just as you said that, you felt Terry's hand on your shoulder, gently leaning down towards you.

Before you could react, his lips were on yours. Terry's kiss was surprisingly gentle, his full lips soft against yours. You found yourself leaning into it.

Your hands reach up to caress his cornrows. The tension that had been building between you both finally broke like a dam bursting open.

Terry's strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his body. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the metallic tang of blood.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for entrance, and you granted it with a soft moan. As the kiss deepened, Terry backed you up against the wall, his body pressing into yours. One of his hands tangled in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back. His lips left yours to trail hot kisses down your neck, and you gasped at the sensation.

"Mmm," Terry murmured against your dark brown skin, his voice low and sexy. "I've been wantin' to do that all week. Watching you up on that stage, movin' like you do… you had me mesmerized."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tracing the muscles of Terry's back. "I… I thought it was all an act," You admitted softly. "That you were just playin' a part to get close to me."

Terry pulled back slightly, his intense eyes searching yours. "No! That wasn't an act. I was hooked when I saw you up on that stage. Couldn't take my eyes off you."

His thumb caressed your cheek gently, and you leaned into his touch. "But… your job. You were hired to find me," You whispered, still struggling to reconcile everything.

"Yeah, I was," Terry nodded, his expression serious. "But I didn't know the whole story. And the more I watched you, the more I realized there was so much more to you than what they led on."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "I saw the fire in your eyes when you danced. The way you carried yourself with such strength and grace. And I knew… I knew I had to know you."

Your heart raced at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest as you gazed up at Terry, your heart pounding. His words had stirred something deep inside you, awakening something.

You reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips. "You don't know what you're gettin' yourself into," You whispered, your voice husky with desire.

"They won't stop coming for me. Am I worth all the trouble ahead?" You asked, and Terry's eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Baby girl, I think you're worth every bit of trouble and then some." His words sent a shiver down your spine. You tilted your head back, exposing your neck to him.

Terry took the invitation, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. His hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Terry," You gasped, arching into his touch, and he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Do you want me to stop?"

You bit your lip, deep in thought. Every instinct told you to run and protect yourself, but how Terry looked at you made you feel like the most precious thing he had ever seen. It was as if he was determined to protect and cherish you.

It made you melt. "No, don't stop, Terry, please don't stop!"

Haha cliffhanger, I'm so mean, lol part 2??

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missaengg · 3 days ago

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A Bittersweet Reunion

Pairing: Caleb x f!reader Tags: nsfw, mdni, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, developing relationship, light angst Word Count: 4.9k Because standing before you is a face you never thought you’d see ever again. Standing before you, dressed in his colonel’s uniform with an apple in his gloved hand, is Caleb, who’s supposed to be dead. The same Caleb you watched die a year ago. The same Caleb you mourned for months, still mourned deep in your heart even though it might appear to the world you’ve moved on. ao3 link here.

Your eyes snap open abruptly, blinking to clear the haze blurring your vision as they adjust to the dim light, a ceiling you don’t recognize coming into view. Dazed, you sit up rapidly, a wave of dizziness overcoming you from the sudden change in elevation.

Your brain attempts to clear the fog, trying to remember how you came to be on this couch, in this room. The last thing you remember, you were on a mission, tracking down a potential lead about the Aether core not too far from Linkon City. It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission to verify the lead, but a few minutes after your arrival, you were ambushed from behind, your consciousness turning black. The next thing you know waking up in this strange location.

You reach for your holster, cursing under your breath when you find it empty.

The realization you’re unarmed slams the precariousness of your situation into you, the high alert of potential danger returning clarity back to your muddled brain. It’s only now that you notice the blanket draped over you, that your body rests on a black, leather couch. The leather feels smooth under your hands, an attestment to its high level of quality, which fits the caliber of what appears to be a penthouse living room. Though, it’s too dark to distinguish much more than the outline of the sparse furniture inside save for the brief flashes of lightning bursting through the wall-length windows.

Your eyes dart left and right as you try to regain your bearings, searching for a clue as to where you are or who might’ve attacked you.

“You’re awake.”

A deep voice cuts through the silence. Somewhere in the back of your head, you have a nagging sensation that you recognize this voice. There’s a sense of familiarity as though you’ve heard it many times before. A voice that you’ve missed ardently for the past year, but it couldn’t be. It’s impossible.

The long tail of a heavy, black coat and a pair of pristine knee-high, leather boots sweep into your vision. Your eyes follow the intruder’s form up, your heart wrenching when they settle on his face. Because standing before you is a face you never thought you’d see ever again. Standing before you, dressed in his colonel’s uniform with an apple in his gloved hand, is Caleb, who’s supposed to be dead. The same Caleb you watched die a year ago. The same Caleb you mourned for months, still mourned deep in your heart even though it might appear to the world you’ve moved on.

“You’re alive?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Caleb meets your gaze, a flicker of something akin to regret crossing his galaxy-colored purple eyes. After a momentary pause, he answers, “I am.”

He provides no explanation. No apology. He provides nothing, but silence, and it hangs heavily in the air, the only two occupants of the room frozen in place. One frozen from guilt. The other from shock.

You break the silence first, hesitantly reaching for his face, your fingers gingerly tracing the curve of his cheek. “Is it really you?”

Caleb nods, leaning into your touch and placing his hand over yours. “It’s me… I’m back.” He nuzzles your palm causing you to gasp and lay your hand flush against his face.

You can feel the warmth of his cheek on your palm, the pressure of his large hand covering yours. The warmth spreads across your hand and down your arm, proof that the Caleb before you isn’t a dream. That he’s real and alive and in front of you.

But you’ve had this dream so many times before only to wake up, your hand grasping nothing that you don’t trust what your senses are telling you. “I’m not dreaming? You’re real?”

Caleb chuckles, and you feel his facial muscles shift and his amusement vibrate on your fingers. “I’m as real as I’ll ever be, Pipsqueak.”

You close your eyes, wondering if you dare allow yourself to believe this is reality, that he won’t disappear when you open them again.

“Hey.” Caleb’s voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you feel his hand cradle your chin, tilting it towards him. “It’s really me. I’m really here.”

Holding your breath, you open your eyes one at a time, still skeptical as to whether this is just another dream, but when your vision clears, it’s filled with Caleb’s gentle smile. Tears spring to your eyes. “Caleb…” You lurch forward, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

Caleb returns your embrace, patting your back in soothing circles, the same way he did when you were children. “I know. I missed you too.”

It’s only now with his arms around you that you can admit to yourself this isn’t a fleeting illusion, that he’s actually here in the flesh. Hugging you.

That he’s been alive for the past year and didn’t tell you.

The relief you feel shifts into a seething rage that courses through your veins like fire. You shove him away, roughly, clenching your hands into fists and slamming them into his shoulders. Once. Twice. Three times before you feel any semblance of satisfaction. “You’re alive, and you didn’t tell me?!” You hit him again, each contact of your fist with his torso echoing your frustration and grief. “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Caleb simply stands there, doing nothing to block your assault as if he knows he deserves every ounce of your ire. He allows you to pummel him, over and over again until you stop of your own volition, too exhausted to continue.

“I couldn’t,” he replies when you finally settle, casting his gaze away from you to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry?!” you snarl, disbelief raising the volume of your voice with each word you spit out. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Caleb. You let me think you were dead for a year. A year!” You punch him one more time. Hard.

“I know.”

“I mourned you for an entire year, Caleb. Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice cracks as it trails off, your unshed tears adding a hoarseness to the otherwise clear timbre of your voice.

“I’m sorry…”

You slump back onto the couch, your spent fists dropping listlessly into your lap. “Where…where have you been all this time? Why couldn’t you tell me you were alive? Why couldn’t you contact me?” The questions come quickly as your fingers twist together with so much force, they turn white. “Why?”

“I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

You stare at your childhood friend who refuses to look you in the eye while rolling that stupid apple in his hands. You want to keep demanding him for answers, anything to explain himself even if they’re half-hearted lies, but seeing him alive triggers the memory of the explosion that killed him. Even a year later, you can still recall the scene so vividly. You can still feel the raging heat burning your skin. The eruptive force knocking you off your feet. The acrid smoke stinging your nose. The despair as you discovered the necklace you gifted him through your blurry vision and your ringing ears.

No one could’ve survived a blast of that magnitude. No one. But somehow Caleb survived, and if Caleb had been alive after all this time, then it’s possible he might not be the only survivor.

“Grandma,” you whisper, your eyes widening with possibility, a hope you haven’t felt in a long time blooming in your heart. “If you’re alive, does that mean…Is she…?”

“No,” Caleb answers curtly, his kind eyes turning cold. “She’s dead.”

Your face twists. A part of you knew that it was a slim possibility, but the resulting devastation is the same, slashing the delicate hope you dared feel to pieces. “How did you…survive?”

Guilt ripples below Caleb’s stony expression. His silence creates a suffocating tension that hangs palpably in the air, so long a horrible thought pops into your head. One so awful it kills you to even consider it. One you can’t even begin to entertain, let alone fathom.

“Were you– Did you–” cause the explosion? You want to ask, but the rest of your question withers away in your throat because the idea of Caleb being responsible for Grandma’s death is too horrific for you to voice out loud.

Caleb doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. The pained expression he wears on his face says everything.

“No…Caleb, tell me that’s not true,” you demand, searching his face for even a hint that you’re wrong. Dead wrong. “Tell me you didn’t– Tell me I’m mistaken, that I don't know what I’m accusing you of.”

Caleb flinches at the sharp edge in your voice. “It had to be done.”

“I don’t understand.” You lean forward, desperate to know what he’s thinking, desperate to make this all make sense even if in some twisted way. “She took us in and raised us when we had nowhere else to go. How could you?”

“Pipsqueak, I…” Caleb runs a tired hand over his face, over the bags under his eyes and his haggard, sunken cheeks. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“How can you say that? Of course you had a choice,” you shout, vehemently shaking your head and bolting upright onto your knees. “How could you murder the woman who gave us a home?” You’re so incensed you almost don’t notice the way Caleb clenches his fists and grits his teeth, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he’s agitated. You need answers, answers only he can give. “Caleb, answer me.”

“Because she hurt us!” he explodes before softening. “Because…she hurt you. She had to pay for her crimes.”

“Caleb, she saved us.”

“She experimented on us.”

“And then she had a change of heart,” you argue.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s just as culpable as the other scientists,” Caleb says with a finality. “She hurt us – hurt you – and for that she had to pay.”

“No, Caleb.” You press your lips together, surveying the man barely holding himself together in front of you. A man you barely recognize anymore. “She saw what they were doing to us and broke us out. You know that.”

Caleb laughs harshly, his laughter devoid of any warmth, ringing hollow in the cold, dark room. “She didn’t.”

“What?”

“The organization decided that we’d be less stressed in a home environment so they tasked her with raising us. It was just another means to gather data for their experiments.”

“That…” That you didn’t know. Deep creases form in your brow as you process this new revelation, but deep down you know it doesn’t matter. Not anymore, now that she’s gone. “It might’ve started that way, but she never went back. She took us away and hid. She made it right.”

You startle when Caleb ruffles your hair the way he used to in the days before he “died”, a ghost of a rueful grin on his lips. He takes a seat on the black marble coffee table, looking down at the apple in his hand as he muses on old, painful memories. “You were too young to remember, but I remember everything. I remember how they kept us locked up. How they poked and prodded us. How they ignored our screams.” He levels his gaze with yours. “I remember how you’d cling to me after they were done. How you’d cry yourself to sleep in my arms. How powerless I was to stop it – stop them. I remember it all.”

A storm rages in the depths of his gaze, one so turbulent it causes your breath to hitch in your throat. “Caleb…”

“But I’m not powerless anymore.” Caleb’s eyes narrow into slits. “Not anymore.”

Buried deep beneath his fury, you catch a glimpse of the scared, little boy he must’ve been back then. The same hurt, little boy who bravely protected you the best he could with no one there to comfort him. You reach for him, slowly, but your hand falters at the last moment. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the Caleb I know.”

You silently plead with him to deny everything he’s just said. To say he hasn’t changed. That he’s still the same Caleb, the same childhood friend you’ve always known.

Caleb smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, but his eyes are blank. Emotionless. Dead.

“Caleb...?”

“Did you honestly think I’d always be the same kind-hearted boy from your childhood?” he asks cruelly as he lits the apple to his mouth and takes a bite, his canines glinting as they sink into the fruit. A streak of lightning hurtles through the night sky behind him, bathing him in an ominous glow.

You watch in muted horror as he chews methodically, taking his time to grind the white flesh between his teeth and swallow.

“I’m not the Caleb you knew anymore,” he says remorsefully. “I changed the moment I started my revenge.”

“...Revenge?”

“For what they did to you,” Caleb growls, slamming the apple down on the table and spraying flecks of juice over its polished surface. “The ones who experimented on us. Ever. I’m going to destroy them piece by piece from the inside out until there’s nothing left. So they can’t harm us – harm you – ever again.”

You yearn to tell him that he doesn’t have to, that you don’t need revenge. That you only wish for him to be back in your life, but the steely resolve engulfing him gives you pause because you can sense that nothing you say will change his mind. Nothing you say will stop him. “Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” you ask instead.

Caleb nods.

“All by yourself?”

He nods again.

Something inside you breaks to know that he’s been on his own, alone, consumed by anger, pain, and hate. You reach for him again, but this time you cradle his head in your arms, nestling it into your shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone. I can fight with you.”

Caleb stirs, his fingers clutching the hem of your shirt like a child clutching someone for comfort. “I want…I want to keep you in a world where it’s just the two of us. I want that more than anything,” he begins, quietly, his voice muffled by your body. “But until everything is resolved, I need to make sure you’re safe and sound. I need to know you’re out of harm’s way.”

You pull back, placing both of your hands on his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. “I’m not the same young girl from back then. I can handle myself. I’m a Hunter, I fight wanderers for fuck’s sake.”

The corners of Caleb’s mouth quirk upwards into a tiny, wry grin, the first genuine smile breaking through his frigid exterior. “I never said you couldn’t, Pipsqueak.”

“Then why?”

Caleb cups your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. Despite the leather glove, the warmth of his hand somehow manages to reach you, sinking below the surface and stoking a bittersweet nostalgia. “Because…” His voice trembles. “...it would kill me if something were to happen to you.”

His eyes waver with fear, regret, and…longing. A wistful yearning that you know all too well, one you’ve suppressed time and time again. Your head tilts before you process what you’re doing, your lips seeking his if only to satisfy your desire to touch him, desire laced with your own anguish and need.

“Squeaks…” Caleb stops you before your lips meet. “Don’t… Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not,” you snap, jerking back, the realization of what you almost did and his rejection burning on your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I–”

But you’re interrupted when Caleb grazes your collarbone, the intimate nature of his touch furthering the scorching blush spreading on your face. His finger hooks under the silver chain around your neck and pulls, exposing the small apple charm and nameplate with the words “When U Come Back” inscribed in the metal from where it hides under your shirt.

His breath hitches, eyeing the necklace in his hand. “You’ve been wearing this all this time?”

Your heart twinges when you see the charms glittering on his palm, remembering all the nights you clutched it to your heart as you cried yourself to sleep. The way you felt it pressed against your sternum when you laid a hand over your chest every time you missed him, multiple times a day.

“It was the only thing I had left…of you.”

Caleb curls his fingers around the pendants, taking care not to tug the chain lest he hurts you. He closes his eyes and bites his lip, a shudder-like groan rising from deep within and ripping through his throat. “Do you know how difficult it was for me? To have to hold myself back while seeing you everyday? I know what I feel is wrong. I know you only see me as an older brother. But I’ve always held myself back and endured. Day, after day, after day. It was suffocating.” Caleb opens his eyes, staring at you imploringly. He breathes heavily as if each labored breath is a battle to restrain himself. “So don’t make this harder for me, Squeaks, cause I don’t know how much I can hold back anymore.”

You bring your hands to the sides of his face, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his, your faces so close, the tips of your noses brush together. “Then don’t. Don’t hold back anymore,” you whisper. “I never thought of you as my brother, Caleb. I want this. I want you.”

Caleb draws in a sharp breath, and then his arms are circling your waist, pulling you into his lap. His lips find their way to yours, moving with an urgency that matches your own, a frantic need to consume him in his entirety.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he husks, pulling away just enough to speak, his ragged breath a wisp of heat on your lips. He sweeps his thumb tenderly along your bottom lip, a wanton heat flooding his hooded eyes.

You forget how to breathe. The lust in his eyes holds you captive, sending your stomach aflutter. “Me too,” you murmur.

A quiver runs down Caleb’s tense body, and then his lips are on yours once more, holding you tight as though you might disappear if he lets go, his large hands pressing firmly on your back as they roam. Neither of you break the kiss, not even to breathe, so consumed by the hunger to feel one another after being apart for so long, as if you couldn’t get enough of one another. Because you couldn’t. Not after a year of missing him, wishing you could hold him in your arms, dreaming of his touch.

Caleb’s breath mingles with yours, his tongue darting to the slight part between your lips, demanding entrance. You accede, and his tongue slips in, entwining with your own. You can taste the remnants of the apple he ate just moments before lingering on his tongue adding a sweetness to the dizzying onslaught of passionate kisses you share.

All your senses are filled with Caleb. Moaning, your fingers dig into the stiff fabric of his coat along his broad back, reeling from the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his embrace, the tickle of his teeth nibbling your lip, his heady pants puffing in your ear. But it’s not enough, not even close to being enough.

You want more.

His lips relinquish their hold and travel down the curve of your neck, a trail of fleeting, feathery kisses left behind in their descent. Waves of pleasure radiate from each epicenter, tingling down your spine and pooling into an unsatiated arousal.

A surprised gasp darts out from between your swollen lips when his teeth graze over where your heartbeat pulses as your hips twitch, your body now painfully aware of just how even the simplest of his touch is driving you to the brink of insanity. How even the most gentle of his caresses are igniting a fire you can’t extinguish on your own. “I want…I want to feel you.”

Caleb growls, a guttural sound filled with his desire, evidence of his crumbling resolve. Reluctantly, he pulls away from your neck, fumbling in his haste to remove his crisp, yet cumbersome officer’s coat. He discards the heavy fabric to the push carpet, and once he’s free, you waste no time reaching for the buttons of his shirt, slipping each confining circle through their tethers as fast as your fingers can allow. His bare torso comes into view, bit by bit, each reveal quickening your pulse until your heart hammers in your chest.

Caleb loosens his tie, but before he can finish pulling it off over his head, your mouth is on him, tracing every rise and crevice of his muscles with your tongue, with your lips, and with your teeth.

“Shit, Pipsqueak,” he rasps, somehow managing to toss his tie aside while your mouth distracts him.

A strained ache pulses beneath the surface that fuels your desire, emboldening you to leave a dark, red bruise wherever your mouth lands.

“Squeaks, slow down,” Caleb hisses, pushing you back gently, but you cling to him, steadfast, refusing to quit your torment.

“No,” you mumble against his flushed skin, continuing your ravagement much to his detriment. “I just got you back…I want…I want you…”

Caleb mutters a near inaudible ‘fuck’, and then springs into action, hauling you to your feet. Soon, the two of you are a tangle of limbs and fabric in an attempt to separate flesh from cloth. Tugging your shirt over your head. Yanking his shirt over his shoulders. Unclasping bras. Unbuttoning pants. Unbuckling belts. One by one, they too join the discarded clothing on the floor, cast aside without a second thought.

Your lips locked together, Caleb falls back on the couch, and you fall with him, your legs tucked, straddling his thighs. A hand on your lower back, his other slides to your breast, kneading the soft flesh and thumbing your pert nipple intent on eliciting a sweet little moan.

You give him what he wants. You moan, a throaty, sultry, breathless moan.

Caleb buries his face in between your naked breasts, planting reverent kiss after kiss along the swell. He catches a nipple between his teeth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and rolling it in his mouth.

Your fingers twist into his hair, your body humming from delight. A particularly naughty nip drives you to gasp his name and arch your back, your throbbing sex grinding down into his pelvis and dragging along the length of his clothed erection, the thin fabric of his briefs one of the last two barriers separating you from him.

“Caleb,” you whimper, a wordless plea begging him to make you his, to claim you as his own.

Caleb presses one last kiss to the divet between your breasts. “I won’t be able to stop myself if we continue,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. Do you still want this? Want me? His unspoken question quivers in his probing gaze.

“Caleb, I want you.” Holding his gaze, you sit up on your knees and hook your thumbs over the waistband of your underwear, dragging it down your thighs, over your knees, and off your ankles. You toss the thin item of clothing aside. Your answer to his question. “Don’t make me wait any longer. Please.”

Caleb releases a long, drawn-out groan, what little resolve he has left crumbling. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing the side of your face as he commits every detail of you to his memory. “God, you’re beautiful.”

He kisses you again, sweetly, tenderly. His hand glides down the side of your body, grazing the plush of your thigh with the pads of his fingers, coming between your legs and running through your folds. As he does, he violently twitches, feeling how ready you are for him, how your slick arousal coats his fingers.

A shaky whimper escapes you when Caleb finds his way to your clit, stroking the sensitive bud in sloppy circles. Shockwaves of pleasure rip through your lower abdomen, leaving you squirming, mewling, whispering his name and biting back moans.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Caleb murmurs into your ear. “The way you sing for me.”

His voice reverberates in your ear, husky and low, a spine-tingling thrill throbbing in your sex, your need for him growing too painful for you to ignore. Dizzy with desire, you reach for his briefs, intent on removing the last obstacle keeping you from him. “I want to feel you…feel you inside me.”

Caleb curses, lifting his hips so you can pull his underwear down past his hips and his thighs, kicking it off once you reach his knees. He grasps the sides of your hips, simultaneously guiding you down onto him as he thrusts up to enter you. You sink down his length, gasping as your warmth encases him and his cock drags on your walls.

“Caleb,” you cry out, reeling from how he’s stretching you with his girth. You feel yourself clench around him, hearing Caleb grunt as your walls flutter to accommodate his size.

“Shit, you feel…feel so good.” Caleb rakes his teeth over the crest of your shoulder, his chest heaving in and out, his passion getting the best of him. “Fuck.”

Tightening his grip, he rocks you against him, his movements controlled, slow. Your lips meet, stealing the breath out of each other’s mouths, coming together and parting, building into a heady whirlwind. As your kisses grow more fervent, so too do Caleb’s thrusts. Your hands fall forwards, bracing themselves on the back of the couch. Your legs hinge at the knees, rising and sinking onto Caleb to match his urgent rhythm.

This – Caleb’s body joined with yours, his fingertips digging into your skin, his lips claiming yours – is everything you’d ever wanted, better than everything you’d ever dreamed.

Better than all the times you spent touching yourself imagining him inside you, claiming all the intimate parts of yourself you wanted to save for him. Better than dreaming of how it’d feel to be in his arms, kissing him, being kissed by him. How he’d whisper your name and stroke your hair. How he’d hold you tight and never let you go.

Breaking the kiss, you throw your head back, the unmistakable tightening of the coil pulling your muscles taut. Caleb plants his lips on the side of your neck, sucking down, collecting the taste of your skin on his tongue. He bucks into you at a relentless pace, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. You can barely keep up with how fast he’s going, how quickly he has you riding his lap.

“Caleb,” you mewl, your eyes closed, your mouth parted. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb…” You ardently whisper his name over and over again.

“Say my name,” Caleb mumbles. “Say it again.”

“Caleb…” you whimper.

The coil is tense with pressure, on the cusp of snapping free.

“Tell me you love me,” Caleb pleads, his breath wisping on your skin.

“I love you.” You brush your lips on his brow. “I love you.” On the pink glow dusting his cheeks. “I love you.” On the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

Caleb tilts his head up seeking you, and you rest your forehead on his, your lips mere inches away from one another, your breaths mixing together, drinking each other in.

Caleb’s hips snap into you, hard, and then you feel it, the coil springing free, releasing all the pent up tension it was holding. All the words you’ve wanted to say to one another over the years. All the repressed emotions. All the happy memories and the shared joy. All the grief and anguish and pain. All of it culminating into a burst of ecstasy roiling through your quaking body.

You passionately cry out his name, tremors coursing up and down your body. Caleb continues rolling your hips together with his, your rapture pushing him further over the brink, but when your walls pulsate around his length, he catapults over the edge, slamming you down onto his lap as he floods you with his own euphoric bliss.

Foreheads pressed together, Caleb whispers “I love you” before closing the distance between your lips, savoring how you taste, how you feel. He gently shifts your bodies, still joined together as one, until you’re both lying on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms.

You snuggle into his firm chest, relishing how perfectly your bodies seem to fit together, how your head seems to tuck effortlessly under his chin. Your eyes flutter closed. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat in your ears lulls you into a state of drowsiness.

You feel safe. At home. Protected. Cherished. Loved.

As the hazy tendrils of sleep tug on your consciousness, it faintly occurs to you that you didn’t ask him how you came to be here in this penthouse suite with him. But you push the thought from your mind. Right now, you’re just happy to have him back. Right now, you want nothing more than to stay in his arms.

Tomorrow. You can ask him tomorrow.

But for now, all you want is to hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

For now, all you need is him.

The answers can come tomorrow.

Taglist: @william-rex

#missaengg writes #caleb #caleb x you #caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #lnds smut #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace fanfic #lads fanfic #lnds fanfic

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janeyseymour · 3 months ago

Text

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Millie is exhausted. Melissa thinks she understands. Carrie is... different.

WC: ~2.55k

When you show up to work (on time for the second day in a row), you immediately hate the fact that you sit at a cubicle for most of the day. You end up standing almost the entire shift, and your feet hate you by the end of it.

At Abbott, Millie continues to stay quiet, resigned. It’s a far cry from the usually upbeat and happy-go-lucky kid that Melissa usually sees. The redhead swears she almost sees bags under the seven year old’s eyes. She looks exhausted- truly and utterly exhausted.

“Millie?” the teacher calls for your little girl during their snack time. “Can you come here for a second?”

Your little girl obeys, and she practically drags herself to the teacher’s desk. “Yes, Miss Schemmenti?”

“I’ve just noticed that you’re a kinda acting different today,” Melissa notes quietly. “I wanted to make sure everything is alright, and that you’re okay.”

Millie just nods quietly.

“If you have anything you’d like to talk with me about, you know Miss Schemmenti is always here to lend an ear.”

Your daughter nods silently again. Then, in perhaps the quietest voice, she admits, “Sleepy.”

“Did you not get good sleep last night?”

Millie shakes her head, and her blue eyes sparkle as tears begin to cloud them. “I’m so tired,” she whines.

“Oh, hun.” The more maternal side of the childless redheaded teacher comes out, and she wraps her arms gently around her student. “I’m sorry.”

The seven year old clings to her teacher much like she clings to you, looking for any warmth and comfort anybody can provide. Her tears hit leather with soft thuds.

“Why don’t you just go lay your head down for a few minutes?” Melissa offers. “Close your eyes and relax?”

Your daughter bites her lip nervously. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to say. “But we’re at school.”

“An’ I can’t have a sleepy Mills, now can I?” the teacher teases softly. “C’mon, it’ll be okay. You won’t be in any trouble.”

The little blonde searches for any hints of ingenuity from her educator. Then, she gives the tiniest nod and slinks back to her desk. Before her head even hits the desk, it’s like she’s asleep, exhaustion finally taking over.

Melissa is in the middle of her math lesson when it hits her. She stops in her tracks, marker halfway raised to the board to write the answer to one of the problems on the whiteboard.

What you said makes full sense to her. Please stop helping me, because it’s only hurting me. While she thought she was helping by slipping you that note to show her support, it was actually a hindrance to you. It made your life so much harder, knowing that she knew exactly what was going on. She had acknowledged what you have been so clearly trying to ignore- put aside for the well-being of your daughter. It makes all of it real for you, and in that instant, she wishes she could take it all back. If she had known that it was only going to hurt your heart, she would have simply dropped the matter of the subject and simply supported you in silence. Or at least, that’s what she thinks you meant- she has no idea the pain her sticky note caused you.

When lunch time comes, the second grade class lines up to make their way down to the cafeteria- all except for one child: Millie, who is still sound asleep at her desk.

Melissa stands at her door as she waits for Janine to begin filing her own class down the hall.

“Pipsqueak,” the redhead calls to her coworker. “Can my class just tag on at the end of your line? I got a student still in the room, an’ I can’t leave ‘er by herself.”

Janine looks slightly confused, but nods with a bright smile. “Of course! The more, the merrier!”

“Yeah, kid. Would ya mind havin’ Barb stop down here with my lunch too? I don’t think I’m gettin’ away from this one any time soon.”

Brows furrow, and there’s the silent question of if everything is okay. Melissa can only nod before the shorter teacher nods again. “Sure thing.”

It’s a few minutes later that Barbara appears in the doorframe of the second grade teacher’s classroom, two lunches in hand. Her eyes immediately set on Millie asleep at her desk. Her brows raise in concern.

“Asleep since snack,” Melissa says quietly. She’s sitting at her desk staring straight ahead. Her eyes don’t even meet Barbara’s.

“And you let her sleep? You never let students sleep in your class.”

“What was I supposed to do, Barb? The poor girl came in silently today, which you and I both know is not normal for her. She told me the other day she hears her mothers up late at night, and she was so tired she started crying,” the redhead sighs. She puts her head in her hands. “God, Barb. This is awful. That poor little girl should not be living like this. And neither should her mother.”

“No,” the kindergarten teacher says softly as she makes her way into the classroom. She sets Melissa’s lunch on her desk. “But you and I both know that Y/N does everything she can to keep Millie safe- she’s well-fed, clean, and loved by at least Y/N. So, we can’t step in.”

“I didn’t,” the redhead mutters. “All I did was slip her a note yesterday telling her I was here for her when she’s ready, and this morning she came in limping and begged me to stop trying to help her.”

“So you stop.”

“I- I don’t know if I can,” Melissa admits. “I- How am I supposed to stop trying to help her when I know what it’s like to be in her situation, albeit mine was not nearly as severe?”

“I know it’s hard, but you have to respect her-”

“She told me that my trying to help her only hurts her,” the second grade teacher mutters. “I- I caused her hurt, when all I was trying to do was help.”

“Melissa, I think you need to take a step back from all of this. Yes, what’s so clearly happening to her is a terrible thing that no human should ever have to endure, but she very deliberately asked you to stop. So, you need to stop and just take care of Millie to the best of your abilities while she’s in your care at school.”

Melissa takes a deep breath and lifts her head from her hands. “You’re right.”

“When are you going to realize I always am?” Barbara teases her. “Eat, Melissa. I’ll bring down a lunch for Millie for when she wakes up too.”

“Thank you.”

Millie ends up sleeping through the entire day, and even when Melissa knows she should wake her, she can’t find it in her to. She has Janine take her kids out for dismissal with the instruction that if you’re outside to come down to your classroom if possible.

You’re standing there, and you see some of your daughter’s classmates running towards their own parents, but there is no Melissa, and certainly no Millie. You internally begin to panic. What had Millie told her teacher that has the both of them not out here?

Miss Teagues makes her way over to you. “Hey. Melissa told me to have you head down to her classroom if I saw you.”

“Is my daughter okay?” you ask quickly, already limping your way to the front door. You don’t even wait for a response before you’re in the door. You make your way in as quickly as you possibly can- your body still aches. It takes you far too long to get down to the classroom.

“Miss Schemmenti?”

“Hey,” the redhead sighs softly. She points over at your daughter.

“She’s sleeping?” you raise a brow as you lean against the doorframe gently.

Melissa nods. “Has been since snack at ten.”

“Thank you for letting her get the rest she needs,” you say quietly. “Last night was… rough.”

The teacher nods. You can see that she wants to pry. She wants to question your statement. But she doesn’t.

You slowly make your way over to your daughter and squat down in front of her. Shaking her shoulder gently, you press a soft kiss to the cheek that isn’t laying against her arms. “Baby.”

She stays asleep. And on another day, you’re sure you would just carry her home despite the fact that your arms would be sore, and she’s getting too big for you to hold for long amounts of time. But today, you know it’s not even a plausible thought.

“Honey,” you shake her a bit more. “Sweet girl, it’s the end of the school day.”

“I don’t wanna go home, Miss Schemmenti,” Millie grumbles, eyes not even opening. “I wanna stay here.”

You frown, as does the redhead sitting at her desk. “Sweetheart, it’s Momma. Wake up for me please.”

She cracks one eye open. “Momma?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s Momma.”

“Carry me?”

“You know I would, but I can’t today,” you sigh. “Not after…” you trail off. You know Melissa is listening intently.

“Okay,” your daughter sighs softly as she picks her head up from her desk. She rubs her eyes sleepily.

“Have a good night,” the teacher tells the two of you softly as you make for the door.

You give her what you hope is a smile. “You too, Miss Schemmenti.”

Millie just waves sleepily.

When you get home, you expect your wife to be sitting in her place at the table like she always is. You expect her to be typically quickly and with fervor, as she usually does. But she isn’t. She’s actually standing by the door with a smile soon her face.

“Hey, baby,” Carrie says sweetly. She pulls you in for a kiss that isn’t too dissimilar from the way she used to kiss you when you were dating and newlyweds.

“Hi, hun,” you sigh softly.

“How was your day?”

“It was alright,” you lie. Your body is exhausted, your mind is exhausted, and you really don’t feel like doing anything today. “I’ll start on dinner now.”

“There’s no need to do that,” your wife tells you. She bends down and opens her arms to Millie.

“Hi,” Millie yawns out, but she doesn’t make a move for the woman she looks so much like.

“Sleepy today, little girl?” Carrie asks as she takes matters into her own hands and wraps her arms around your daughter.

“Mhmm.” She allows her mother to hold her for a few seconds before detaching herself from the woman. It’s quite clear to you that your daughter is not comfortable with this. She immediately clings to you again.

You head for the kitchen, but you see that dinner is already in the oven upon walking into the room.

“You’re making dinner?” you furrow your brow.

She nods and gives a shy smile. Carrie reaches for something on the dry sink and hands you a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “These are for you, love.”

You take them gently and look at them in awe. They truly are beautiful. And they smell absolutely delightful.

“Why don’t you go take a load off and relax with Millie on the couch while I finish dinner and set the table?”

“R-really?” you squeak out. The last time that she had done this, it was before everything had really gotten bad. The last time she had done this, she hadn’t hit you yet, but the fight that had taken place the night before had gotten out of hand. “Yeah, hun,” Carrie kisses you again sweetly. She bends down and ruffles Millie’s now lopsided pigtails and kisses her hairline.

Dinner is splendid- absolutely delicious. And when you expect your wife to head up the steps to change to go out for dinner, she doesn’t. She actually stays in the dining room to clean up, does the dishes, and sits next to you on the couch as Millie curls up in your lap. Her long fingers trace patterns on your thigh like she used to- and not in a sexual way, just a way of letting you know she’s there.

When it’s time to put your daughter to bed, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Carrie so maternal. She reads the bedtime story with you, making sure to use silly voices and sing when it calls for it. She tucks your daughter in, kisses her forehead, and promises her that she’ll get great sleep tonight. Millie looks nervous, but not as nervous as she was walking into the house this afternoon.

When you’re alone with your wife, fear begins to seep into your bones. She was nothing short of a dream this afternoon and this evening, but that was in front of your little girl. Now, everything is being closed doors again.

But tonight, there is no hurt. There’s just short, sweet kisses. No hands roam where they aren’t wanted. Soft affirmations of love are whispered into the crook of your neck. She even apologizes for her actions last night. She promises you that she’ll back off on the drinking, she’ll be around more often for Millie, and that nothing like what took place last night will happen again.

You forgive her. Of course you do. You always forgive her. A small part of you believes her- she genuinely seems like she’s feeling remorseful for her words and actions. But another part of you wonders if and when it’ll happen again. A part of you hopes that it won’t ever happen- the more naive side of you.

But the other part of you- the jaded side that has grown used to this woman knows it won’t be long until she’s back to her habits. Because this has happened before. She’s done things like this before, and yes, this is the worst it’s been, but it never changes.

It gets better for a week, two at most, before it turns back to what you’ve grown accustomed to. For a short span of time, Carrie will shower you with love and affection, soft touches and gentle eyes. She’ll lull you into a false sense of security like she always does. And when things begin to go south, and you speak up, she’ll turn. She’ll tell you that you’re ungrateful for the life you have, that she’s been nothing but the perfect housewife and you’re taking her for granted. She’ll tell you that she never should’ve married you, threaten you with divorce- promise you that if you were to separate, she would be just fine but nobody would ever be able to love a pathetic, broken woman like you. Carrie is a manipulative, egotistical narcissist. She’ll never change. You know this, and you wish you could just run away. But you have Millie to worry about, and she will always come first. As long as Millie is safe, there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll leave- even if things go back to how they usually are, and you know they will. It’s just a matter of time.

But for now, you bask in the change of pace. Your body is grateful for the healing time that you’ll get. You’ll take what you can get.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months ago

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Bad Boy: Chef Luca x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @djlnkaled @10ava01 @freckledhorse @wabi-sabi1090

Companion piece to:

Something Special - Luca knows you're something special from the very moment you meet.

Sfogliatella - Luca spends months perfecting your fav dessert leading to a surprise proposal.

Luca used to be a little wild, he tells you that when you’re sitting on the deck of the boat that he lives in, sharing an expensive bottle of wine. Your gaze is fixed on the lights from the city as they glitter across the canal as he hands you the glass before taking up residence alongside of you on the cushioned bench.

“Used to be?” You ask carefully. “Or still are?”

“Used to be.” He reassures you because he knows your history.

You’d had a thing for bad boys in your early twenties. You’d fallen in love with a man you were translating for, one who rode motorcycles and was possessive over his woman. He was fun, adventurous and secretive.

You can’t say when you started to lose the pieces of yourself, only that one day Armand didn’t like the way you dressed, he preferred you to wear darker scents instead of floral. A tracking app appeared on your phone so he could make sure you were ‘safe’. You wanted to leave but by that point yourself confidence had been eroded so much that you just couldn’t bring yourself to walk out the door so you stayed.

You’d stayed until you were woken up at three in the morning to the police bursting into his home and raiding the place for drugs. They had found nothing on the premises but you were both swept up for questioning. They’d detained you for five hours before they ascertained you had no knowledge of the operation. Armand had been charged and sentenced to twenty five years in prison for his role in cross state heroin operation.

It had taken such a long time to put yourself back together again after that, to reclaim who you were. You’d taken a job at the UN to get out of the city, bounced around a few countries before you found a home in Copenhagen.

It’s Luca’s words that bring you back to the present. He hasn’t told you how he ended up in Denmark, what led him to become a chef.

“My home life, it was messed up. Most of the time we were this close-” he says indicating a tiny gap with his fingers. “- from being taken into care. I was stealing all the time, trying to make ends meet, bunking off school, lashing out...”

Noone in Copenhagen knows this story, they just know him as the guy who used to with for David Fields. Someone dependable, someone capable, someone stable. They don’t know that there were nights he used his hide his sister in the closet and sing her to sleep because their mother was on another bender.

“Cheffing saved me from all of that, it gave me the structure I needed at the time, the discipline and the cash to provide for my family until my sister was old enough for university.”

“What happened to your parents?” You ask him and he gives you a sad smile.

“Dad was never really in the picture. The last time I saw him I think I was seven and he took me to an Arsenal game, after that radio silence.” He says shaking his head. “And mum… well the drugs took her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You tell him and he shrugs his shoulders.

“We expected it to happen a lot sooner if I’m honest.” He tells you. “I know it sounds cold but when you live like that…”

“I kinda get it.” You say softly. “When I was with my ex, he would have these moods…”

You trail off and he understands the subtext. He’s not the only one that’s seen violence, that’s managed to escape it and make something of himself. His fingers entwine with yours, a show of solidarity because if there’s anyone that understands what you endured, it’s Luca.

“I was relieved when the police arrested him, I didn’t have the strength to leave him before that but after…” Your eyes flicker up to meet his and truly they are the most beautiful shade he’s ever seen. “I got to be me again, the real me, not the one he’d tried to shape me into.”

“I’m glad that you escaped that life.” He says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair back behind your ear. “That we both managed to find our way to each other.”

You clasp his hand to your cheek, your lips brushing over his pulse point as you whisper.

“Yea. I am too.”

Love Luca? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#chef luca x you #chef luca x reader #luca the bear #luca x reader #the bear fic #chef luca #will poulter

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azrielbrainrot · 1 year ago

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Maybe We Could Be The Start of Something

Pairing: Band member!Azriel x College Student!Reader

Description: Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there.

Word Count: 3294

Warnings: none

Notes: I had this idea after seeing this art and couldn't stop thinking about it. I actually had a lot of ideas for little stories in this universe but it makes sense to start with how they met. Also I know that's a terrible band name but I never had to name a band before okay. I didn't proofread this because I think I'd delete the whole thing if I did, sorry. This is really self-indulgent but I hope you like it!

Band AU masterlist

You could only blame yourself for agreeing to meet Viviane. Your skull felt like it was going to split open with this headache that has lasted all week. The only thing you wanted to do right now was try to sleep it off under your warm blankets, but instead you willingly came to a bar knowing it was just going to make it worse.

She's been telling you about this place and the bands that perform here occasionally for ages. Apparently it's a real hotspot for up and coming musicians ever since two bands made it big after starting out here. You've been turning her down for weeks so you had promised her that you'd finally come this friday, of course when you agreed you couldn't have known your week was going to be absolute shit. Though most of your days have been shit lately. That might be the actual reason Viv has been so insistent about you going out with her, she knew your mental health was ready to take a vacation and was just being a good friend.

This really hadn't been a good day to come though. Aside from your headache, your last class had also run late, making you lose your bus and barely have time to drop everything off at home and change to come meet your friends. As a little treat you also couldn't find your nice black skirt so you had to just wear jeans, you definitely needed the extra confidence the pretty skirt provided but the universe didn't seem to care about that.

The bar was already packed by the time you got there, you were almost being pushed around while you were searching for your friends. You look down at your phone to ask them where they are and see a text from Viv asking if you're still coming. Reading it makes you stop in your tracks. You can't really blame her for thinking you wouldn't show up since you've been declining every invitation lately, but seeing that she thought you wouldn't even give her a heads up hurt a little. You knew you had been distant lately but you were trying your best to deal with life and you never meant to do it at the expense of your friendships.

You're pushed out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder gently, making you look back at them. Turning your head you were faced with a muscular chest, slowly looking up a tattooed neck to meet beautiful hazel eyes staring back at yours.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he says, breaking eye contact for a second before continuing, “but I think you dropped this.” He raises his hand so you can see him holding your keys. Your house keys, the ones you would undoubtedly only notice were missing when you went back home and tried to open the door. That would have been the cherry on the cake after this whole day. Maybe you should see a witch to make sure it's not actually a curse, no one should experience this much bad luck.

“Thank you so much,” you almost yell as you grab them from his hand in excitement. He just saved you from having no place to sleep tonight. You notice him tensing up when your fingers brush against his hand and realize you might have made him uncomfortable. “I'm sorry,” you take a tiny step back in the crowded bar, “I would have been locked out of my apartment if you hadn't seen that. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” he said, giving you a nod and something close to a smile, before going on his way. You curse yourself again for acting so awkwardly. You hope you didn't make him feel uncomfortable, he was nice in picking up your keys and giving them back to you. He was also really cute which only made it more of a shame that you met like this. At least you didn't lose your keys, that would have seriously sucked.

Making your way to the table Viviane told you they would be at, you notice almost everyone is here. She was leaning against her boyfriend, Kallias, while they listened to whatever story Alba was telling them about. Ezio and Celia were both looking down at their phones and showing each other something while giggling like schoolgirls. As much as you love your friends, you don't know how much socializing you can handle today. You already fucked up what could have been a very simple interaction. Then again, with all of them here you know Viv won't try to ask you about Eleanor so at least you can keep avoiding hard topics. Viv greets you with a grin as soon as she sees you, everyone following right after.

“Hey, thought you weren't coming after all.” Yeah, you almost forgot about that. You smile anyway, knowing she didn't mean to remind you of how much of a bad friend you've been lately.

“Sorry, guys,” you sit down in the empty chair next to Alba before continuing, “Class ran late and then I lost my bus.”

“Oh. Bad luck.” You have no idea, Kallias. Conversation picked back up after that and you let them do most of the talking, taking a back seat and just watching them. You're glad that they either noticed you weren't in a talking mood or just didn't realize you were mostly quiet anyway.

You have no new stories to tell them since you've barely been functioning outside of school and talking about your feelings is definitely a resounding no, especially at a bar, so you just let them keep up with their conversations and just nod along every once in a while.

Eventually, the DJ introduces the band playing tonight. The Night Court. Judging by the screams and the way everyone moves closer to watch, they're very popular around here and you understand part of the reason for said popularity as soon as you see them step up on stage.

“Oh, they're really good!” Viviane's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “The guitarist is Mor's cousin. You remember her, right?” You nod. Of course you do. The blonde with sparkly eyeshadow and red lips leaves a big impression, forgetting Morrigan is probably impossible.

You study the guitarist as he introduces himself and the band. He's extremely handsome, the type of handsome that would make you think he can't be human, like some kind of fairy or vampire. You can tell he's aware of this fact with every honey dipped word that comes out of his mouth, literally flirting with the whole crowd. Despite not having many physical similarities with Mor, that allure he exudes definitely matches with hers.

The drummer was already sitting in place, looking eager to play. It takes you a second to notice he was in fact already sitting down as he's probably one of the tallest men you've ever seen in real life. But, with the messy shoulder length hair and big boyish grin on his face, he doesn't look scary at all.

As your eyes travel to the bassist, half hidden in the shadows, you wonder why you didn't recognize him immediately. It was the same guy that helped you before. You had thought he was beautiful before but, considering the situation, you didn't have much time to linger on that fact. However now that he was standing on stage, you could fully appreciate it. He was tall - this much you knew since you were at head level with his chest - and by the way his arms strained against his black t-shirt as he picked up his bass, you could tell he was fit too. He was looking down at the bass in his hands, making the few lights that caught him cast an ethereal glow on his face and on his onyx hair. This man looks like he stepped right down heaven's gates.

They start playing what you think is an original song but can't be sure since you were too distracted checking their bassist out to hear what Mor's cousin had said. He does have a really good singing voice but as your mystery angel starts singing, you can't help but feel bewitched back to watching him.

You barely take your eyes off him during the whole performance but they're all undeniably good. It's easy to understand why this bar is so popular if this is the level of talent their bands have. You can definitely imagine them making it big. They all seem very comfortable and content on stage and the crowd can't get enough of them.

You're so distracted by them that you don't even notice your head pounding anymore, or how fast time flies because, before you know it, they're saying their goodbyes to the crowd and leaving the stage.

Conversation starts back up after that, everyone is gushing about how talented and hot they are and you find yourself easily agreeing with their sentiments. But, with no distraction and the dj back playing songs you've heard a thousand times and the pressure of keeping conversation going, your headache comes back. You wait out just a little longer until you think it's an acceptable time to leave without worrying everyone too much.

“I'm sorry guys but I think I'm going to head home.” You finish the last of your drink even though it's mostly melted ice by that point and start putting your jacket on.

“Already?” You're not surprised Alba is the first to speak up. You'll never understand how this girl has so much energy, you had the same morning class as her but she's still as energetic as she was at lunchtime.

“It's still kind of early,” Viviane looks up at you with her icy eyes and you can recognize the concern in them immediately.

“It was just a busy week,” you explain with a smile on your face, hoping no one reads too much into it even though you all know that's not all. “I think I need to go sleep it off.”

“Are you going by yourself though?” Out of everyone at the table, Enzo is the worst one at hiding his emotions. You can see as clear as day that he's worried about you.

“I'll get an uber. Don't worry.” You gesture to your phone hoping they'll drop it.

“I can wait with you outside.” Kallias offers immediately, ever the responsible one. You really wanted to stay alone right now though.

“You don't have to.” You put your bag over your shoulder to add some finality to your words. “It's cold and there's going to be enough cars out at this hour, I won't be waiting for long.” It looks like he's about to say more but Viv puts a hand over his arm subtly, making him shut up. The bass of the music keeps hammering at your head so you don't linger and just say your goodbyes, waving at everyone with what you hope is a seemingly content smile, before leaving.

As soon as you step outside the pressure you feel starts slowing down. The front of the bar is still full of people so you walk a bit more to the little parking lot on this street. The air is cold but it feels amazing after being in the stuffed bar and your thoughts don't seem so overbearing when you don't have to try to act happy with your friends.

You love them to death but everything about how tonight went just proves that they've been talking about you behind your back. You know this is just them being good friends. You've been acting so differently in these last few months that even one of your professors noticed so it's only natural that they also did, but knowing everyone can tell only makes it worse.

You didn't want to make anyone worry about you. Life has just been going for your throat lately, minor inconveniences keep popping up and piling on top of what was already a pretty shitty situation. But you know once the semester ends, you'll get the chance to finally breathe and solve some of the problems you've been ignoring. And then things will hopefully get better. It just really sucks that your friendships and even school life has been affected by this.

Sitting down on top of the small wall that wrapped around the parking lot, you look up at the sky, willing your mind to let you rest for a bit. Watching the stars twinkling and your breath turn into white clouds of smoke because of the cold. You should probably get that uber and go home before any of your friends find you here, but your body doesn't want to move for some reason.

You feel someone approach you and look back down to meet familiar hazel eyes. You both stare at each other for a second longer than what would be normal, not expecting to see each other again.

“We keep running into each other,” you can hear his voice better here. You didn't notice how deep it was in the crowded bar. His singing voice is also deep but a bit softer than this.

“Yeah.” You smile. Seeing him again after how he helped you and then watching him on stage is making you a little giddy despite your somber mood. He seems a bit less unsure after you respond as well.

“Are you here alone?” He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“No, I'm just waiting for an uber.” You hope you're not making a bad impression again. He probably hadn't seen you with your friends before either.

“Alright,” he looks over to what you assume is his car and then back to you, “I can wait here with you.”

“You don't have to. It's cold,” you start but he shakes his head before you even finish speaking, “I actually haven't called it yet.” He gives you a look of amusement and it just makes you try to explain yourself faster. “I have a headache. The cold just felt calming. I'll get it now.” Opening the app, you start searching and, just like you expected, there's a car barely 10 minutes away from you. A wave of disappointment washes over you at the thought that you won't get to talk to him for longer but you push it aside quickly, you barely know him.

“A bar probably isn't the best place to be if you have a headache,” he tilts his head slightly in what you're almost sure is concern. He's a little hard to read.

“I know but I already had told my friends I was coming so…” You shrug and change the subject, trying to allow this moment to let you forget about your earlier thoughts. “Didn't turn out too bad. There was this really good band playing today.” You can see a flush take over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and you feel incredibly proud of yourself for being the reason behind it.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he says as he dips his head slightly in thanks. You feel like this might be the best compliment you could have given him.

“You were all really good. I even forgot about my headache while I was watching you play,” you try not to sound too excited and make it weird but you want him to know how good his band is, “Do you perform here a lot?”

“Yeah,” he leans sideways against the wall next to you, “At least twice a month.” You're starting to notice that, although his face doesn't show too much emotion, his eyes are a little more expressive. His band seems to be a topic he likes talking about. You can understand why.

“Isn't that a big deal? I heard this bar is really popular nowadays, there has to be a lot of bands trying to perform here.” The blush seems to be back but it could also be because of the cold you're subjecting him to.

“We always try to do our best but we've been playing here for a long time. That helps too.”

“You know that's not it,” you point to the entrance of the bar, where some people are smoking, “The bar was packed. I don't know if that's how it always is but I'm pretty sure it was mostly people wanting to watch you perform.”

“You've never been here before?” It looks like he's getting a bit embarrassed by the praise so you let him change the subject.

You shake your head. “Need to come more often though. When are you performing again?”

“We don't always have a schedule,” he looks down at your phone in your hands then back up at you, “But I can text you the details.”

“Oh.” He wants your number. The thought makes warmth rush to your cheeks. “Alright.” You unlock your phone and hand it to him. While he's typing his number, you can't help but notice the scars on his hand. They completely cover his hands, the skin completely marred. It looks as if they were burned. You look away from them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. He hands you your phone back and you see he saved his number under his name.

“Azriel,” you say the name out loud, tasting it in your mouth. He's watching you a little more intensely than before and you have to break eye contact to stop yourself from blushing. You quickly send him a text so he can save your number as well.

“I'll need yours too.” You give him your name and he repeats it, just as you had done. He makes it sound beautiful in his warm timbre and you can't help the flutter in your stomach. “I'll text you as soon as I find out when we're coming here next.”

“Okay.” You lock eyes and don't look away, just enjoying the moment, until you see a car pass by and realize it's yours.

You think you could have stayed there in the cold talking to him all night. You're not sure why but talking to him is effortless, it's like you've been friends for years. It just feels right and you find yourself wishing that he texts you soon with the concert information and anything else he comes up with. You wouldn't need much of an excuse to talk to him.

“That's my ride,” You say as you hop down from the wall. He looks at the car and when his eyes meet yours again you think you can see a hint of disappointment, hopefully at having to cut the moment short. “Thank you for waiting with me,” you smile at him again, “You didn't have to do that.”

“No problem.” He gives you a smile too, the biggest one you've seen on him. “I'll see you next time.”

“Of course.” You'd be an idiot to not want to see him again. You linger for as long as you can, suddenly not feeling like going home at all.

You wave at him again before getting in the car and something beats faster in your chest when he waves back and watches the car speed off down the street, it's almost like your heart is telling you to stay with him. You're not exactly sure what just happened but you hope you don't regret not staying with him for the rest of the night.

You keep thinking about him during the whole car ride and he's the last thing on your mind when you're laying down to sleep. And when he texts you the next day you know you'll have many more opportunities to spend the night talking to him.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #divider by saradika #band au #my writing

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wordmade · 2 months ago

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TOO INTO YOU

You’ve been dating around since you got into town, trying to settle into your new PR job. The work has taken its toll, but you tell yourself you can’t complain. Admitting that you feel lonely or sad would mean the job isn’t worth it. So, you’ve thrown yourself into distractions, parties, casual dating, anything to fill the quiet. A lot of it, really. But here’s the thing: you haven’t actually been on a real date. You just don’t feel the desire.

You exchange texts and share a few memes now and then, but nothing that makes you crave someone’s presence. Deep down, you suspected the issue lay with you. It’s not that the city lacks interesting or handsome men. It’s you (your trust issues), your impossibly high standards and even the standards you admit might be unrealistic.

Still, you miss the spark.

You’re a modern woman, independent and self-assured, but you long for someone who makes you want to go the extra mile. Someone kind. Gentle. Easygoing and fun, but not in a reckless way. You want to laugh and feel safe at the same time. Someone who takes care of you, not because you need it, but because they want to. But finding all that in one person? That felt impossible.

And then there’s David. The star of this recent horror movie. You two met during one of the cast’s happy hours. Your job involved preparing the team for interviews, providing guidance on what to say, what to avoid, and how to handle tricky questions. It’s demanding work, but you love it.

For months, you’ve been working closely with the cast, earning their trust and respect. It wasn’t easy at first (actors often come with egos) but your calm professionalism and keen insights quickly won them over. Your tips saved them from embarrassing moments countless times, and David, in particular, seemed to appreciate your efforts more than anyone else.

David was… different. At first glance, he’s just another handsome leading man, tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing eyes and an easy smile that could disarm even the harshest critic. But then you hear his voice, which stops you in your tracks. It’s unique, almost chameleonic. The type of voice that was stretched and shaped into every character he ever played.

It’s warm and engaging during interviews, and every word is carefully measured to draw people in. On set, it’s steady and firm. When he talks to you, it’s softer, more intimate. You loved how he could read a room and instantly change his tone.

Despite his charm and status, David was refreshingly down-to-earth. Actually, he was like a child trapped in an adult’s body (excitable, endlessly curious, and brimming with energy).

He’s also fiercely dedicated to his work, enduring grueling shooting schedules and long interviews without complaint. “I love this,” he’d say, brushing off your concern after yet another 12-hour day.

But there were moments when his exhaustion showed, like the time you caught him chugging an energy drink during a break. “That’s not sustainable,” you’d teased, and he’d laughed, as you rattled off tips for better sleep routines. He followed them religiously after that, often thanking you for “saving his mind.”

Your friendship grew in these small, simple moments. While David was popular among the crew, always the life of the party, he seemed to gravitate toward you when things slowed down.

You loved this. Because you had been gravitating him as well, but in a much more careful way.

With you, the conversations were more profound and more deliberate. He’d ask about your work, your aspirations, your thoughts on life. It was clear he valued your opinion, often seeking your guidance not just for interviews but for personal matters, too. You began to notice the way his gaze lingered a little longer when you spoke, the way he always seemed to find a reason to be near you. And yet, you convinced yourself it was all in your head. After all, David saw you as a younger sister, someone to look out for… didn’t he?

At some point, David had started seeing you differently. He’d always mentioned how he admired your dedication and how seamlessly you balanced professionalism with genuine kindness. The cast adored you, and he couldn’t ignore how many of the men on set seemed to find excuses to talk to you. But they were invisible when David was around.

Then came the night at the club. The team had gathered to celebrate the end of filming, and everyone was in high spirits.

You were enjoying yourself until an obnoxious guy decided to ruin your night. He ignored David’s presence entirely, throwing out crude remarks and invading your personal space. Before you could react, David stepped in, his usually calm demeanor replaced by something sharp. The guy backed off quickly, sensing the storm brewing in David’s fierce gaze.

Later, David insisted on driving you home. As you sat in his car, the adrenaline from earlier wore off, leaving you drained. “It must be awful to go through this on a daily basis,” he said, his voice low and tinged with guilt.

“You get used to it,” you replied, though the words felt hollow.

“You really don’t deserve this,” he said, glancing at you briefly before fixing his eyes on the road.

“And what do I deserve?” you sighed.

David was silent for a moment, clearly absorbing your words. “Sorry,” he said finally.

“Don’t be,” you replied softly as the car pulled up outside your building.

You stepped out and waved, thinking that was the end of the night. But as you fumbled with your keys, you heard footsteps behind you.

An awful thought crossed your mind, but when you turned around, you heart melted.

It was David. Still in a messy suit from before. He had put his glasses on. His hands in his pockets.

The relief you felt was embarrassing. It was problematic how this man could make you feel everything would be right.

“David? What’s wrong?” you asked, worried something had happened.

“Can I answer your question?” he said, his voice firm but laced with emotion. “You’re the type of woman a man should work hard to deserve. You care about people, for real. You go out of your way to make others comfortable. You work hard to prove yourself, and you’re good. Not just at your job but also as a person. You’re not just worried about looking good, you want to be good.”

His words hit you like a wave. You’d never seen David like this, his voice rising with his usual calm replaced by something raw and almost angry. “You deserve someone who recognizes your value. Someone who will defend you from jerks, make you laugh, but more importantly, never make you feel like you are the problem.”

You stared at him, utterly speechless. The funny thing is.. you thought the same about him. He got closer to you, his wooden perfume touching your nose.

David exhaled deeply, his broad shoulders rising and falling as if trying to steady himself. He ran a hand through his silver hair, a telltale sign of his frustration.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his gray green eyes stuck in yours. His voice lost to find the correct register.

“I can’t pretend I didn’t care more about you than I cared about myself tonight,” he continued, his words cutting through the silence of the night.

“I fought so hard to get where I am, and to think I was willing to risk everything just to make sure that guy never looked at you again…” He paused. His whole body was tense.

“I can’t go home because I know I won’t sleep,” he admitted, his tone softening as he looked away briefly as if the admission embarrassed him. “I’ll keep replaying tonight in my head, over and over, thinking of all the ways I could have protected you better.”

There was a strange dissonance in seeing David like this. The man who could make a room burst into laughter, who always had a light-hearted comment or a joke to share, now stood before you, stripped of his usual charm, revealing a side of him you hadn’t expected, intense, protective and deeply affected.

“David…” you began, but your voice faltered. Your confidence is breaking at the realization of your effect on him. This was scary. It was a big deal.

“I will never let this happen again,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours as he took a step closer. There was no hesitation, no ambiguity in his gestures “Give me the chance to prove it.”

Your heart raced, each beat echoing in your ears. You’d never allowed yourself to imagine this, to think that David, the man who you thought saw you as a colleague, a friend, or even a little sister, could harbor feelings like this. But the intensity in his eyes left no room for doubt.

“Do you see me?” you asked, fearful of asking the whole question. Did he see you as a woman, someone he could honestly care for in the way you secretly hoped?

“Yes,” he said, his response was immediate. “I see you that way. Do you think we could ever…?” His voice still in a little off-key tone.

“Yes,” you replied instantly, the word tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.

For the first time, you allowed your heart to hope, to believe. This wasn’t a fleeting moment or a casual crush. This was real. David wasn’t a boy fumbling with emotions; he was a man, the kind who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to fight for it.

The realization hit you like a wave. David wasn’t just what you wanted; he was what you needed. A man who would stand beside you, defend you, and never let you question your worth.

You were surprised by how right this felt. As David stepped closer, your heart raced, his tall figure over you.

This was the start of something big, and for the first time, you were ready to fall in love.

#fanfic #romance #amreading #david howard thornton #art the clown #Spotify

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raekensluver · 5 months ago

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rekindled bonds (1)

introduction, part one, part two.

description: your first case with the bau team turns out to be more intense than you had anticipated.

pairing: spencer reid x bau agent!fem!reader

contains: talks of typical criminal minds violence (abductions, serial murders, etc.), a little fluff at the end.

song rec: trouble by cage the elephant- "you know what they say, yeah, the wicked get no rest"

w.c: 3.8k

an: let me know if you want to be apart of the taglist for this series! not much reader x spencer (i got carried away, whoops), this is more of a filler chapter i suppose.

the hum of the plane's engines was a soothing white noise that filled the cabin, providing a stark contrast to the caffeine-fueled chatter that had filled the bau office mere hours ago. you looked out the small window, watching the clouds pass by like cotton balls painted onto the vast blue canvas of the sky.

derek morgan, your new colleague, took the seat beside you, his muscular frame fitting surprisingly well into the cramped space. "so, you two go way back, huh?" he asked, nodding towards spencer reid, who was deeply engrossed in a book sitting at a matching table across the aisle from the two of you.

you felt a mix of excitement and nostalgia bubbling up as you turned to face him. "yeah, we were inseparable when we were kids. can you believe it's been over a decade since we last saw each other?"

derek leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "small world, huh?" he said. "i can't even keep track of half my college buddies. but you two pick up right where you left off, like no time has passed at all."

you nodded, watching as spencer looked up from his book, catching your eye. a silent understanding passed between you, the kind that comes from years of shared secrets and stolen laughter. "it's like we have a mental shorthand," you said, turning back to derek. "spencer always knew what i was thinking, even before i did."

"sounds like you guys had quite the bond," said, his eyes flicking over to the young genius. "how'd you end up here, with all the brainiacs?"

you chuckled, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest. "i studied psychology and criminology. got recruited right out of grad school."

derek raised an eyebrow. "impressive. so, what's your specialty?"

"profiling and interrogation techniques, mostly," you replied, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice. it was one thing to know you were capable; it was another to explain it to someone with years of experience under their belt. "i've always had a knack for understanding people, even when they don't want to be understood."

derek's smile grew wider. "you're gonna fit right in here, then." he clapped you on the shoulder before standing up, his tall, muscular frame casting a brief shadow over you. "welcome to the team. we're gonna need all the fresh perspectives we can get on this one."

his words of encouragement sent a jolt of excitement through your veins. "thanks, morgan," you said, as he made his way down the aisle to check in with the rest of the team. you watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and trepidation.

with a deep breath, you opened the case file that had been placed on the table in front of you. the cold, stark reality of the situation settled in your stomach like a rock. the smiling faces of the victims stared back at you from glossy photos, each one a silent plea for justice.

spencer looked up from his book, noticing the shift in your demeanor. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle inquiry in the buzz of the aircraft.

you nodded, but your eyes remained glued to the case file. "it's just… these people," you murmured, flipping through the pages. "i've studied cases like this before, but now it's real. we're going to be the ones trying to save them."

spencer closed his book and slid it aside, his gaze earnest and understanding. "i know it's tough, but you're not alone. we're all in this together."

you managed a small smile, grateful for his reassurance. "yeah, i know." you paused, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. "but it's just so… heavy."

spencer leaned across the aisle, his brown eyes searching yours. "it's okay to feel that way," he said softly. "this job, it's not easy. it's not supposed to be. but we do it because we can make a difference."

his words hung in the air, resonating with the solemn truth of your new reality. you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "you're right," you murmured, closing the file. "i just need to remember that."

two hours later, the plane touched down in chicago, the bustling city sprawling out beneath you like a patchwork quilt of steel and glass. as the team gathered their belongings and deplaned, you felt the weight of the case settle heavier on your shoulders. the adrenaline of reuniting with spencer had given way to the gravity of the task ahead.

once you arrived at the local precinct, you were ushered into a briefing room that smelled faintly of stale coffee and stress. rows of uniformed officers and detectives filled the space, their eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces of the bau team. spencer took a seat beside you, his hand briefly brushing against yours in a gesture of comfort.

the lead detective, a stern-looking woman with a no-nonsense attitude, began laying out extra details of the case. the victims were all young women, each found in a different part of the city, their bodies slashed in a way that suggested a twisted form of ritual. the mood grew heavier with each detail she shared, the air thick with the weight of unspoken fear and anger.

spencer's fingers tapped a rhythm on the armrest, his eyes distant as he listened intently. you knew that look; he was already piecing together the puzzle, his mind racing with hypotheses and theories. you felt a twinge of envy - his intellect was something you had always admired, but also something that had made you feel a bit like you were playing catch-up.

the briefing ended and the team dispersed to their designated tasks. as you and spencer headed to the local morgue, the stark reality of the case hit you like a cold slap in the face. the smell of antiseptic and the cold, sterile environment were a stark reminder of what was at stake.

the coroner, a middle-aged man with a gentle demeanor, led you to the first body. "this is the earliest victim," he said, pulling back the sheet. "same m.o. as the others." the sight was gruesome, but you steeled yourself, focusing on the details that could provide a clue to the killer's identity.

spencer leaned in, his eyes narrowing as he studied the pattern of the injuries. "the precision of the cuts suggests a certain level of experience or a professional background," he murmured. "possibly medical or military training."

the coroner nodded in agreement, his expression grim. "i noticed that as well. it's almost… surgical in nature."

you tried to keep your stomach from turning as you took in the gruesome sight. the precision of the cuts was unsettling, each one deliberate and calculated. "anything else that stands out to you, reid?"

spencer's eyes flitted over the body, his mind racing. "the lack of defensive wounds suggests that the victims were either taken by surprise or incapacitated before the attack. we should look into any reports of missing persons or unsolved abductions that fit the profile."

his phone buzzed in his pocket, the sound cutting through the heavy silence like a knife. he pulled it out, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the unfamiliar number. "excuse me," he murmured, stepping out of the room to answer.

his voice was tight with tension as he spoke. "reid."

spencer stepped back into the room, his expression a mask of professional calm, though his eyes had a haunted look to them. "we've got another one," he said, his voice low. "another abduction, same m.o."

you felt your stomach drop. "how recent?"

spencer checked his phone again. "less than two hours ago. the unsub is escalating."

you nodded, gritting your teeth. "we need to move fast."

spencer agreed, his eyes flashing with determination. "i'll have garcia run the latest intel through the system, see if we can find any connections or patterns."

you followed him out of the morgue, feeling the urgency of the situation pressing down on you like a physical force. as you made your way back to the precinct, the chilly wind cut through your jacket, a stark reminder of the race against time you were in.

once back at the precinct, spencer wasted no time in telling garcia what he neede from her. he dove into his laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he sifted through the latest data she sent. you could see the gears in his mind turning, piecing together the puzzle of the unsub's behavior. the room was abuzz with activity, phones ringing and officers moving back and forth with new information, but the two of you remained in a bubble of focused concentration.

prentiss, called everyone to attention. "we need to identify the common link between these victims and find a way to predict where the unsub will strike next." her gaze landed on you. "you're our newest addition, what's your take?"

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you. "the unsub seems to be targeting young women with a certain look, possibly similar to someone he has an obsession with or feels wronged by." you paused, glancing at spencer, who nodded in silent encouragement. "we should look into any recent events that might have triggered this spree - a breakup, job loss, or a significant anniversary."

prentiss nodded thoughtfully. "good point. let's get to work on that."

as the team dispersed to follow up on various leads, you and spencer remained at the board, surrounded by the stark images of the victims and the cold, hard facts of their cases. you felt a sudden pang of doubt, wondering if your theories would hold water in the face of such a cunning and elusive killer.

spencer, sensing your uncertainty, placed a hand on your shoulder. "we're going to catch him," he said, his voice steady and calm. "you just have to trust your instincts."

his confidence bolstered yours, and you nodded, rolling up your sleeves. together, you began to sift through the files, looking for any shred of information that could lead to the unsub's identity. as the hours ticked by, the tension in the room grew palpable. phones rang incessantly, and the murmur of hushed conversations filled the air.

finally, a break came in the form of a frantic call from the local pd. a suspect had been identified, a man named james conrad, with a history of stalking and assault. your heart raced as you and spencer grabbed your gear and followed the rest of the team to the suspect's house, the adrenaline making your senses sharp.

the neighborhood was eerily quiet, the only sounds the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant wail of a siren. the house was a small, nondescript bungalow, the kind that could easily blend into the suburban landscape if not for the squad cars that lined the street in front of it. as you approached, you could see the curtains twitching in the windows, a sign of life inside.

spencer's hand tightened on the grip of his gun as he scanned the area, his eyes missing nothing. "remember, we don't know what we're walking into," he murmured, his voice low and serious. "stay sharp."

you nodded, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you approached the house with the rest of the team. the silence was unnerving, broken only by the crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional squawk of a distant bird. the house looked like any other on the block, but the knowledge of the horrors that could be occurring inside sent a shiver down your spine.

as the team fanned out, you and spencer took the lead, moving up the cracked concrete path to the front door. prentiss was on the phone with the local swat team, giving the final go-ahead for them to move in. the air was electric with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle and your pulse race.

spencer turned to you, his eyes intense. "we're going in low and fast. we need to find that girl." the gravity of the situation settled on your shoulders like a heavy cloak.

you nodded, feeling the cool metal of your gun pressing against your side. "got it."

with a swift nod from prentiss, the team moved into action. the door was kicked in, and you rushed inside, your senses on high alert. the house was cluttered, the air thick with the smell of stale cigarettes and something else, something that made your stomach turn. you moved quickly, following spencer's lead as he cleared each room with a practiced efficiency that spoke of years on the job.

the living room was a mess, newspapers and fast food containers scattered across the floor. the walls were covered in photos of the victims, their faces cut out and arranged in a disturbing mosaic of obsession. your eyes darted over the scene, searching for any sign of the latest abductee. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a silent plea for her to be found alive.

spencer paused in the doorway to the kitchen, his gaze flicking to the basement door. "this way," he murmured, his voice tight with focus.

you followed him down the narrow staircase, the creaks echoing through the otherwise silent house. the basement was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of mold and despair. the walls were lined with shelves filled with books and knick-knacks, a stark contrast to the horrors you knew you might find.

spencer took point, his gun held steady in front of him. the beam of his flashlight bobbed as he moved, casting eerie shadows on the floor. your heart was racing, each step downward feeling like you were descending into the bowels of hell itself.

at the bottom of the stairs, you spotted a faint light coming from a room at the end of the hall. spencer gestured for you to stay put, his eyes never leaving the source of the light. with cat-like grace, he approached the door, listening intently. you could see his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, his focus absolute.

the seconds stretched out like hours as he reached for the doorknob. then, with a swift turn and a kick, the door flew open. a scream pierced the air, and you rushed in, your heart hammering in your chest.

the room was a twisted reflection of a doctor's office, with a makeshift operating table in the center. the latest victim, a young woman with matted hair and bruised eyes, was strapped down, her clothes torn and bloodied. she saw you and her cries grew louder, filled with hope and terror.

you sprinted to her side, tucking your gun into the waistband of your pants, your training kicking in as you quickly assessed her injuries. "you're safe now," you murmured, trying to soothe her as you worked to free her from the restraints. she flinched at your touch, but her eyes remained locked on yours, searching for the truth in your words.

spencer's voice was firm and steady. "we need to find james," he called over his shoulder. "he could still be in the house."

you nodded, taking a moment to reassure the victim. "help is on the way," you promised, your voice gentle as you worked to free her trembling form. "we're going to get you out of here."

spencer's voice grew more urgent as he called out to the rest of the team. "clear the upper floors and then head down here!" he ordered. "our unsub might still be in the house!"

you stayed with the victim, whispering comforting words as you worked to untie the complex knots that held her down. Her cries grew softer, and she nodded weakly as you assured her that help was on the way.

spencer's footsteps echoed up the stairs, his voice sharp with urgency as he called out to the rest of the team. "clear the upper floors, now! we need to find james before he escapes!" the thunder of boots on the floorboards above sent a shiver through the house, a stark reminder of the danger that still lurked.

you stayed with the victim, her eyes locked on yours as she clung to the promise of safety. you could feel the warmth of her tears on your hand as you continued to work at the knots. "it's okay," you murmured, your voice soothing despite the racing thoughts in your head. "you're going to be okay."

spencer's voice grew distant as he called the others down to join the search. "garcia, run a background check on james conrad. i need to know everything about him, now!" the urgency in his tone was palpable.

you managed to free the victim's last restraint, and she collapsed into your arms, sobbing with relief. "thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "thank you so much."

you held her tightly, feeling the tremors of fear and pain that wracked her body. "just stay with me," you murmured, stroking her hair. "help is coming."

spencer's voice grew more distant as he and the others moved through the house, their footsteps thundering above you. you heard the occasional crash, the sound of breaking glass, and muffled shouts as they searched room by room. the basement remained a cocoon of relative calm, the only sounds the victim's sobs and your own racing heart.

you managed to get her onto her feet, supporting her trembling legs. "we need to get out of here," you whispered. "can you walk?"

she nodded, clutching onto you for dear life as you guided her towards the stairs. every step was a victory over fear, each one bringing her closer to freedom. as you reached the middle of the staircase, you heard a thud from upstairs, followed by a muffled shout. your heart leaped into your throat.

derek's voice, loud and clear, pierced the silence. "got him! he's down!"

relief washed over you as you helped the victim up the stairs, her legs wobbly but determined. the living room was in chaos, with the rest of the team surrounding a figure on the ground. derek had james conrad pinned to the floor, his toned arms holding his wrists tight as he snapped on the handcuffs. james' eyes were wild, a crazed grin stretched across his face as he laughed maniacally.

moments later, the wail of sirens grew louder, and you heard the thunder of footsteps as paramedics and county police officers flooded the house. their arrival brought a sense of order to the chaos, their calm professionalism a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the past few hours.

you handed the victim over to the medics with a silent prayer, watching as they worked to stabilize her. spencer took you aside, his eyes filled with concern. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the cacophony around you.

you nodded, still feeling the tremors of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "yeah," you murmured, your voice shaky. "just… processing."

spencer's eyes searched yours, understanding written in the lines of his face. "you did good," he said, his voice firm and steady. "really good."

you managed a nod, the reality of what had just happened starting to set in. "thanks."

as the house was secured and the suspect was taken away, the team gathered their things, the adrenaline from the operation dissipating into a tired buzz. the sun was setting outside, casting long shadows across the floor. you followed spencer out to the waiting plane, feeling the weight of the day's events settle heavily on your shoulders.

once aboard, the atmosphere was subdued. the usual banter and camaraderie had been replaced by quiet contemplation. the team had faced the grim reality of their job and come out the other side, victorious but haunted.

spencer sat beside you, his eyes still scanning the case file, his mind clearly racing. his hand brushed against yours, a silent comfort that spoke volumes. you studied his profile, the sharp lines of his nose and jaw, the furrow of his brow as he focused on the information before him.

prentiss looked up from her own paperwork, her expression a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. "good work today, everyone," she said, her voice sharp but sincere. "especially you, agent. you handled yourself well under pressure, especially considering this was your first case." she said acknowledging you.

you felt a flush of pride at her words, but it was quickly followed by a wave of fatigue. the adrenaline was wearing off, leaving you feeling drained and a little overwhelmed. "thank you," you replied, your voice a little shakier than you would have liked.

spencer looked up from his paperwork, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle concern. "how are you holding up?" he asked, his voice low.

you took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "i'm okay," you said, the tremor in your voice belying your words. "just… it's a lot to take in."

spencer nodded, his gaze understanding. "it always is," he said softly. "but you did great. you saved her life."

you leaned your head against the cool plane window, watching the lights of chicago fade into the distance as the aircraft climbed into the night sky. the case was over, but the memories of the day lingered like a bad taste in your mouth. the faces of the victims, the smell of the basement, the terror in the young woman's eyes - it all played on a loop in your mind.

spencer noticed your withdrawal and reached over, grabbing your hand firmly in his. his thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill that had seeped into your bones. "it's okay to feel this way," he said gently, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the drone of the engines. "it's part of the job."

you looked down at your hand in his, feeling the strength and comfort that flowed through the connection. "i know," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "but it's just…"

spencer squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "it's okay to feel overwhelmed," he said, his voice soothing. "this job… it's not for everyone. but you're here, and you're making a difference."

you took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. the warmth of his hand was grounding, a lifeline in the sea of doubt that threatened to pull you under. "thank you," you whispered, feeling a lump form in your throat.

spencer gave your hand a final squeeze before releasing it, turning back to his paperwork. "just remember, we're in this together," he said, his eyes never leaving the file in front of him. "no matter what happens, we've got each other's backs."

edited 8.26.24

taglist: @yokaimoon

#spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff

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sexymemecoin · 8 months ago

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The Role of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management: Enhancing Transparency and Efficiency

Blockchain technology, best known for powering cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin and Ethereum, is revolutionizing various industries with its ability to provide transparency, security, and efficiency. One of the most promising applications of blockchain is in supply chain management, where it offers solutions to longstanding challenges such as fraud, inefficiencies, and lack of visibility. This article explores how blockchain is transforming supply chains, its benefits, key use cases, and notable projects, including a mention of Sexy Meme Coin.

Understanding Blockchain Technology

Blockchain is a decentralized ledger technology that records transactions across a network of computers. Each transaction is added to a block, which is then linked to the previous block, forming a chain. This structure ensures that the data is secure, immutable, and transparent, as all participants in the network can view and verify the recorded transactions.

Key Benefits of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management

Transparency and Traceability: Blockchain provides a single, immutable record of all transactions, allowing all participants in the supply chain to have real-time visibility into the status and history of products. This transparency enhances trust and accountability among stakeholders.

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Key Use Cases of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management

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Notable Blockchain Supply Chain Projects

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TradeLens: TradeLens, developed by IBM and Maersk, is a blockchain-based platform for global trade. It digitizes the supply chain process, enabling real-time tracking of shipments and reducing the complexity of cross-border transactions.

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Challenges of Implementing Blockchain in Supply Chains

Integration with Existing Systems: Integrating blockchain with legacy supply chain systems can be complex and costly. Companies need to ensure that blockchain solutions are compatible with their existing infrastructure.

Scalability: Blockchain networks can face scalability issues, especially when handling large volumes of transactions. Developing scalable blockchain solutions that can support global supply chains is crucial for widespread adoption.

Regulatory and Legal Considerations: Blockchain's decentralized nature poses challenges for regulatory compliance. Companies must navigate complex legal landscapes to ensure their blockchain implementations adhere to local and international regulations.

Data Privacy: While blockchain provides transparency, it also raises concerns about data privacy. Companies need to balance the benefits of transparency with the need to protect sensitive information.

The Future of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management

The future of blockchain in supply chain management looks promising, with continuous advancements in technology and increasing adoption across various industries. As blockchain solutions become more scalable and interoperable, their impact on supply chains will grow, enhancing transparency, efficiency, and security.

Collaboration between technology providers, industry stakeholders, and regulators will be crucial for overcoming challenges and realizing the full potential of blockchain in supply chain management. By leveraging blockchain, companies can build more resilient and trustworthy supply chains, ultimately delivering better products and services to consumers.

Conclusion

Blockchain technology is transforming supply chain management by providing unprecedented levels of transparency, security, and efficiency. From provenance tracking and counterfeit prevention to streamlined payments and ethical sourcing, blockchain offers innovative solutions to long-standing supply chain challenges. Notable projects like IBM Food Trust, VeChain, TradeLens, and Everledger are leading the way in this digital revolution, showcasing the diverse applications of blockchain in supply chains.

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s-soulwriter · 1 year ago

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Research Tips for Writing Your Book

Are you diving into the exciting world of writing and researching for your book project? Here's what you need to know to make your research journey a success:

Define Your Purpose: Before diving into research, have a clear understanding of your book's purpose and goals. Know the themes you want to explore and the message you wish to convey. This will give your research a focused direction.

Create a Research Plan: Outline the specific areas you need to research, set milestones, and establish deadlines. A well-structured research plan keeps you on track and helps you manage your time efficiently.

Use Multiple Sources: Diversify your sources. Books, academic papers, interviews, and digital resources each offer unique perspectives and insights. This diversity enriches your understanding and adds depth to your writing.

Organize Your Notes: Keep your research notes well-organized. Consider using digital tools like note-taking apps or physical notebooks with labeled sections for different topics. Efficient organization will save you time and effort later.

Fact-Check: Ensure the accuracy of your research. Verify any details that are crucial to your story or argument. Misinformation can erode your credibility and disrupt the reader's immersion.

Cite Sources Properly: Keep meticulous records of your sources and be diligent about citations. Use a recognized citation style (e.g., APA, MLA, Chicago) to give credit to the authors and avoid plagiarism.

Interview Experts: Reach out to experts or people with firsthand knowledge relevant to your topic. Interviews can provide you with valuable insights, real-life experiences, and unique anecdotes to enhance your book.

Visit Relevant Places: If your book is set in a particular location, consider visiting it if possible. Experiencing the environment firsthand can help you capture its atmosphere, culture, and nuances more authentically.

Take Breaks: Research can be mentally taxing. Don't forget to take breaks to recharge and maintain a fresh perspective. Stepping away from your work can also lead to new insights and ideas.

Stay Open-Minded: Be open to unexpected discoveries during your research. Sometimes, the most profound insights come from unrelated sources or tangential information that you stumble upon while researching.

Keep a Journal: Maintain a research journal where you can jot down notes, ideas, and thoughts as they occur. This journal can serve as a valuable resource when you're writing your book.

Join Writing Communities: Connect with other writers in person or online. They can offer guidance, share their experiences, and provide emotional support when you face challenges during the research and writing process.

Revise and Refine: Don't think of research as a one-time activity. Continuously revisit and refine your research as your book evolves. New ideas or directions may emerge, and you may need to adjust your research accordingly.

Respect Copyright Laws: Understand the copyright laws applicable to your research. Ensure you have the rights to use specific materials, especially if you plan to incorporate them into your book. Obtaining permissions or licensing may be necessary.

Balance Research and Writing: While research is crucial, there comes a point where you must transition from research to writing. Avoid getting stuck in a perpetual research phase. Once you have enough information to start, begin writing and integrate research as needed in your work.

Remember that your research phase is an integral part of the creative process. It's where the foundation of your book is built, and it can be a fascinating journey in itself.But keep in mind, as you're writing your first draft, you can never know everything, never research everything. A second opinion is always good, and for that, you can ask friends, family, or even me on this blog.

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andhumanslovedstories · 7 months ago

Note

To the extent you feel comfortable sharing ofc - why do you need a mouth reconstruction? Is that something dental insurance doesn't cover?

Best of luck for your recovery <3

I have a combination of very weak enamel and furious teeth grinding. The combination meant that my teeth were sheered down until the enamel was gone. I was down to just the dentin underneath, which means my teeth were only going to start eroding faster. Multiple dental providers were saying that I was on track for dentures by fifty. I was super cold sensitive on one side, and I had a tooth pulled on the other side due to a botched root canal, which meant there was no way to comfortably chew many types of food. It was affecting what I’d choose to eat, and buddy I do NOT need more obstacles to eating. And just aesthetics-wise, my teeth’s appearance didn’t bother me enough to pay this much just for them to look better, but I didn’t love that they were permanently yellow and that my face was losing height due to how small my teeth were.

(I’m convinced my prosthedontist and my dental surgeon were both more bothered by the aesthetics of my mouth than I was. My surgeon literally said, “I bet you were pretty insecure about your teeth before this, right?” And I was like “ummmm not really?“ and he was like “really? I mean good! But please understand they look so much better.”)

So I got gum surgery and a base for a dental implant installed several months ago, and now I’ve got temporary crowns in which are actually these connected blocks of teeth that I need special floss to take care of.

They’re So Big and So White.

And tomorrow I get my permanent crowns which should look and feel like real teeth! And then after that I get fitted for a mouthguard to prevent me from wearing the new ones down to nubs as well. (You can use an over the counter mouth guard for grinding, which is what I was using while I was buying time to get my teeth fixed. I’m getting in custom fit in the hopes my jaw will be less sore when I wake up. Any mouthguard is better than no mouth guard if you’re a grinder though, trust me. Save yourself the enamel and the money.)

Speaking of money, I’ll be super blunt: in total, I paid about $8000 for the gum surgery and implant, and $36000 for almost entire mouth of new crowns (I’ve only got two original teeth left). Insurance covered a little over half the surgery fees and like $2k of the crowns. (My insurance will pay for up to 50% of the price of a crown every two years, and I need about twenty crowns all at once, so. Yeah.) I investigated going to Mexico or Canada to get the work done, but ultimately my dental situation is complicated enough to require coordination of multiple providers and regular check ups over many months. It was going to be to complicated to arrange that internationally, plus travel and lodgings, to be worth the diminishing amount of money I would save. I do think I could have gotten all this work done for cheaper, but I’m not sure if it actually would have been something I followed through on. And basically, the sooner I get this work done, the better in terms of face shape and teeth migration and all that, so I was like “fuck it let’s go,” so here we are. In twenty-four hours, I’ll have a brand new mouth.

#hopefully I’ll have nice update photos to add

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ghostf1ux · 1 month ago

Text

5 Times Jason Saved his the Flock and 1 Time they Saved Him: Gasoline and Guns Don't Mix

Day 5: Fire

Words: 2.4k

TW/CWs: Guns, Violence, Fire (this one is pretty tame compared to my other fics)

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

Jason hums idly to himself as he walks up to the back entrance of the building, hands shoved in the pockets of his black leather jacket. His footsteps are light despite his steel-toed boots, though his presence is more clearly announced by the subtle little clinks of the two links of chains resting on his right thigh.

The Clocktower looms over him, casting a shadow despite the gloomy sky providing scant light. He comes to a stop outside the secret entrance, inputting his numerical code, eye scan, and thumb print before the door slides open with a hiss.

The tower is still and nearly silent, only disturbed by the quietest of clink clink clinks in time with his steps. You'd never guess the information tech vigilante backing the Bats was ever holed up here, diligently working away at her massive computer setup all day and all night.

Which brings Jason to why he's here. He has a day off, for once. No cases need his immediate attention, he's uninjured (minus some minor cuts, scrapes, and bruises), and he's, most importantly, bored.

Babs has been helping Batman and his flock for a long time, and in doing so, has managed to fall into the same overworking-themselves-to-death pitfall the rest of them are usually in.

So Jason has decided to intervene.

A little birdie (Red Robin) had mentioned something about a high profile case that was requiring all of both his and Barbara's attention to figure out the culprit and track them down. With emphasis on the tracking them down part, figuring out who they were looking for didn't take all that long. They'd been working on this case for almost a week now, and with Babs also working on other cases, as well as helping the flock out at night and running the Birds of Prey, Jason was willing to bet she hasn't gotten any kind of break, or rather, hadn't given herself any kind of break.

So today he decided to pop by, drag her away from her screens, and drop her in front of another one in the form of a movie and late lunch. There was a new movie that came out recently that had actually caught Jason's interest, so he figured Babs might be interested as well.

He twirls his bike keys around his finger as he steps in the elevator, waiting for it to take him to the top of the tower. Out of habit, he glances around in a quick assessment of the elevator.

It's a good thing he did, because otherwise he never would've noticed the dent in the top left corner of the elevator wall.

Squinting up at it, it's immediately obvious that there used to be something there. He doesn't know for sure what it would've been, since he's rarely in here, but knowing Babs and knowing the placement, it was probably a camera. A camera that's distinctly no longer there.

Jason draws his gun from wear it sits tucked into his waistband, the metal a familiar weight in his hand. With the other he pulls out his phone, sends a quick text to whichever family group chat comes up first, not even paying attention to who may or may not be in it.

If only they didn't have like seventeen of them.

He steps to the side as the elevator slows to a stop, using the reflection to see out the door while he hides around the corner.

The reflection is blurry, but there's one vaguely humanoid form at the end of the opening room from the elevator, waiting outside the door to the more apartment-like room that hid Oracle's real workspace. It doesn't look like the guy is looking, so Jason unsheathes the dagger he always has strapped to his ankle and throws it.

It hits its mark with a quiet squelch, the goon’s body hitting the floor with a thud muffled by the carpet.

Jason carefully steps out, checking the corners before walking around the edges of the room. He sticks to the shadows just in case the other cameras aren't disabled, and avoids the triggers for the traps that may or may not still be there.

Putting his ear to the door, he doesn't hear anything on the other side, so he crouches down to the guy he got with his dagger. It hit center mass, just like he planned, though it was a little closer to the center than he probably should've aimed. If the guy's wheezing is anything to go by, he probably punctured a lung.

“Oi, asshole, what the hell are you and your boys doing here?” Jason growls, slapping his face a few times to get him to focus. He just glares at Jason, who sighs. “Where is she?”

When he doesn't answer, Jason puts hand over the guy's mouth and twists the dagger. His scream is muffled against Jason's hand, which he just tilts his head condescendingly at.

“Shut up, it could be a lot worse. Now tell me where she is.”

The goon points unhelpfully to the door before passing out. Jason rolls his eyes, kicking him over to the side. The guy is probably going to die, but honestly he could care less about that right now.

He rips the dagger out of the guy's chest, holding it ready in his left hand and keeping his gun in his right. He's got near perfect aim with both hands, but most people go for the right hand first if they see it holding something and he would take a knife in close combat over a gun any day.

He opens the door, thanking Babs mentally that she doesn't have creaky doors, and peeks through the crack.

Through the reflection on the window, he can make out Babs looking almost bored tied to her wheelchair and being held at gunpoint. Almost. The tension in her shoulders gives away her stress– but not from the gun, she's too familiar with being held at gunpoint for that. Her focus is lasered in on something else. She's facing away from the door towards the exact opposite wall, with the barrel of a gun being pointed at her from behind. She's far enough away from the reflection that makes Jason's mental map place her in the middle of the room, which means the guy holding the gun is practically right in front of the door Jason is right on the other side of.

He toes the door open another two inches, enough that he can see a little more but not enough that a passing glance will see anything wrong.

Immediately he gets a whiff of gasoline, along with a glimpse of the other door opened to Oracle's workspace.

Ah, so that's what she's so worried about.

Babs lets out a huff, tapping her nails against the arm of her wheelchair.

“You're not going to find anything!” She calls ahead of her. So there's more in there, probably trying to go through her systems.

“Quiet, bitch,” the one behind Babs snaps, flicking the barrel of his gun against the side of her head. She only glares, but in turning her head she ends up catching a glimpse of the window. Her eyes widen minutely, but that's the only tell before she's back to playing the victim.

“You two seem pretty focused with fumbling around with my system,” Babs continues despite the previous threat, “You could just untie the rope from my wrists and let me help instead of pouring gasoline everywhere.”

Jason grins when Babs passes him a glance and the slightest of nods. So there are two in the other room that are focused, huh?

He opens the door just wide enough to slip through and stalks up behind the first goon, the one holding the gun to Babs’ head. Without so much as an escaped gasp Jason has him in a sleeper hold and is gently lowering his unconscious body to the ground.

He passes Babs the dagger so she can cut herself free, then starts to move to wheel her out before she shakes her head, then jerks it towards the computers. Jason raises an eyebrow, gesturing between her, the clearly gasoline soaked floor, and the two men too focused on her screens to notice them. Her jaw clenches and she sends her signature bat-glare at him and–

Wow, she is scary. Jason actually backs up a little under the force of her glare. He forgot how scary she can be. Okay.

He allows himself to roll his eyes and silently mock her while she can't do anything about it before walking up to the two guys and knocking their heads together. The first guy collapses with a groan, the other guy just stumbles back while holding his head. Jason doesn't give him more than a second before he's blitzing him with a punch that breaks his nose and a hook that knocks him out cold.

He shoves his hands back in his pockets and spins on his heel back to Babs.

“So, Barbie, what was that all about?” Jason asks innocently, jutting his hip out to make his stance more comfortable. Barbara wheels herself in, glancing around.

“Somehow they found me, wanted to find and erase something in my systems. Never specified what, though. Also never found it.”

“And the gasoline?”

“A back up plan,” she replies tersely. Jason hums.

“Well, this has all been really fun, but I came here to invite you to a movie and it starts in like twenty minutes.” He leans down to fold his arms on the handles of the chair when Babs sighs. “Cmon Barbie, it's been forever since you've taken a break. And we haven't made fun of a movie together in a long time.”

“...Fine.” She folds her arms across her chest and leans back in the chair, making Jason straighten with a gleeful smile, starting to wheel her out.”

“Fuck yeah. And I texted one of the group chats awhile ago, they can deal with all this shit,” he mentions, waving vaguely behind them at the bodies as they pass into the lobby room. Babs looks down at the first body. Jason follows her gaze, then shrugs. “I was in a rush, it's fine. Speaking of, can I have my knife back?”

She hands it back to him with a disappointed huff. He wipes it off on the dead guy's jacket and tucks it back into his boot before continuing on their way to the elevator.

Of course, it's when he hears the telltale sound of a safety being clicked off that he realizes his mistake.

He can't react before a wave of explosive heat sends both him and Babs careening forward, slamming into the opposite wall. Jason more than Babs because he was closer and she had a wall of muscle protecting her.

It takes him a moment to get his bearings after that, when his vision finally starts to focus and the ringing in his ears dies down. All he registers is the searing, oppressive heat bearing down on him from all sides. It makes him sweat uncomfortably and his lungs struggle to draw in enough breath– no, wait, that's the smoke. Smoke was coming from the fire.

Fire.

Gasoline.

Clocktower.

Babs.

“Barbara!” Jason shouts, or at least he thinks he shouts. All he can see is the blinding light of the fire where it's burning away the gasoline and spreading to every other flammable object in the vicinity.

“Over- over here!” Her voice finally filters through the roar of the fire, but he can't pinpoint its location. Soon the ringing subsides, but it's just replaced by his heartbeat.

Jason opens his mouth to shout again but breaks out into a cough when he inhales a lung full of smoke instead. If only smoking cigarettes actually helped him build up a tolerance to something like that.

A dark blob moving catches Jason's attention, and then he realizes it's Babs. Not too far away, in fact, just separated by a small trail of fire caused by gasoline that was trailed after them when they left.

Fuck he was careless and let his guard down. And now all of this is going to be destroyed because of him.

He pushes himself to his feet and jumps over the fire, coming to Barbara's side.

“Are you okay?” He asks, quickly checking her over for injuries. She shakes her head, raising her hand towards Jason's face. He finds himself involuntarily flinching away from the contact, a guilt stabbing him in the gut at her wounded expression.

“You're bleeding,” she states instead. Jason shrugs.

“Not the first time, won't be the last.” With that he works his arms under her legs and back to lift her bridal style, looking around for the exit. The elevator probably wouldn't be working due to the explosion, which just left the stairs.

Jason groans internally as he starts making his way there, dodging flames expertly and only breaking out into short coughing fits.

Eventually he manages to get the door open, but not without nearly sacrificing his boots because of how hot the handle is and the fact that he had to kick it open.

He races down a few floors before finally taking a second to breathe and figure out what the hell he's going to say.

“...Barbie?” He starts hesitantly, looking down at her. She has a conflicted expression when she meets his gaze, but he can't quite figure out why.

“Yeah?” Jason glances away.

“I… I'm sorry. That was… reckless. Should've been more thorough,” he finally gets the words out, keeping his eyes on the steps ahead as he continues down.

“Well, yes, but I didn't notice either. This isn't all on you, Jay,” Babs reassures him. It does little to actually soothe the guilt and blame clawing at him, but he nods anyway. “I have backup servers anyways, it'll just be annoying to reset up everything physically, but I can just make Tim and Bruce do that.”

Jason chuckles at that, but doesn't comment further.

Once they're closer to bottom after a long stretch of silence, Jason finally clears his throat awkwardly.

“...So. About that movie.”

“Might as well, not going to be much help here.”

“Should I let them know we made it out?”

“Nah, let's see how long it takes for them to find us.”

#jason todd #red hood #batfam #whumpcember #whumpcember24 #whump #angst #ghost writing #whump prompts #batman #oracle #oracle dc #barbra gordon #babs gordon #batgirl

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theereina · 9 months ago

Text

🦋 THAT GIRL CHALLENGE 🦋

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Start a daily gratitude journal to cultivate a positive mindset.

Practice mindfulness meditation for at least 10 minutes each day.

Set specific, achievable goals for yourself in all areas of your life.

Read a self-improvement book or listen to a motivational podcast each week.

Create a budget and track your expenses to improve your financial literacy.

Take a new fitness class or try a different workout routine to stay active and healthy.

Volunteer your time to a cause you're passionate about.

Practice self-care regularly, whether it's through skincare, baths, or relaxation techniques.

Develop a morning routine that sets a positive tone for your day.

Learn a new skill or hobby that interests you, such as painting, cooking, or coding.

Practice forgiveness and let go of grudges or resentments from the past.

Surround yourself with positive, supportive people who uplift and inspire you.

Start a savings account or investment portfolio to secure your financial future.

Practice assertiveness and boundary-setting in your relationships.

Spend time in nature to recharge and reconnect with yourself.

Take a solo trip to explore new places and gain independence.

Eat a balanced diet with plenty of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains.

Schedule regular check-ups with your healthcare providers for preventive care.

Practice saying "no" to obligations or activities that drain your energy.

Explore different forms of spirituality or connect with your spiritual beliefs.

Declutter your living space to create a more organized and peaceful environment.

Practice random acts of kindness to spread positivity in your community.

Learn to manage stress through techniques like deep breathing or progressive muscle relaxation.

Attend workshops or seminars to continue learning and growing personally and professionally.

Set aside time for creative expression, whether it's through writing, drawing, or crafting.

Practice self-reflection to identify areas for growth and improvement.

Cultivate a mindset of abundance and gratitude rather than scarcity and fear.

Set boundaries around technology use to prioritize real-life connections.

Experiment with different styles and fashion choices to express your unique personality.

Create a vision board to visualize your goals and aspirations.

Practice self-compassion and treat yourself with kindness and understanding.

Explore your passions and interests to find what truly lights you up.

Develop a morning or evening skincare routine to care for your skin.

Take up a regular exercise routine, whether it's yoga, running, or weightlifting.

Practice effective communication skills to express yourself clearly and assertively.

Set aside time for hobbies and activities that bring you joy and fulfillment.

Invest in experiences rather than material possessions for long-lasting happiness.

Foster gratitude by expressing appreciation for the people and things in your life.

Practice forgiveness, both towards others and yourself, to release negative emotions.

Engage in acts of self-love, such as positive affirmations and pampering sessions.

Cultivate a sense of curiosity and wonder by exploring new ideas and perspectives.

Invest in your education and personal development through courses or workshops.

Practice empathy and compassion towards others, seeking to understand their perspectives.

Practice mindfulness in everyday activities, such as eating and walking.

Set realistic expectations for yourself and celebrate your progress along the way.

Surround yourself with supportive friends and mentors who encourage your growth.

Create a financial plan to save for future goals, such as buying a home or traveling.

Practice gratitude by keeping a daily journal of things you're thankful for.

Take time to relax and recharge by engaging in activities you enjoy.

Reflect on your values and priorities to ensure your actions align with your true self.

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jerzwriter · 10 days ago

Text

Ethan and Kaycee have been through quite a bit together, and even if they're still a secret, they're very much together. But when Ethan realizes they missed a big dating milestone, he goes all out to fix that.

Book: Open Heart (Late Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 2,230

A/N: Thank you to @peonierose for this ask about my pairing first dates. I never realized I never wrote an official first date for Ethan x Kaycee! Participating in @choicesjanuary2025 - Prompt: First Date. I didn't have a lot of time to proof - so I hope it's not too bad! lol :)

Ethan Ramsey didn’t get nervous. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself as he adjusted his tie for the tenth time. A pained look crossed his face as he checked his reflection in the mirror a final time. It still wasn’t right. “It’s a tie, Ramsey!” He cursed. “It’s not like you haven’t done this a thousand times before!” But as he hastily tossed the offending object onto his bed, he settled on a more casual approach.

There was no reason to be nervous. Sure, he was going on a date – an important date – but it was just Kaycee. That’s when he stopped in his tracks. Of course that’s why... it was Kaycee.

This wouldn’t be a typical first date. There would be no getting to know each other, no auditioning for the coveted role of significant other. With more than a year’s worth of history under their belts, that was already taken care of. They had danced around their feelings as if they were avoiding a pathogen. They clung to their denial even as the longing consumed them. Then they came close... so close... only to backtrack again.

Through it all, Kaycee remained his constant, even when he hadn’t earned her loyalty. She comforted him after losing a dear friend and helped him save another. She had awoken parts of him he had buried long ago despite his best attempts to keep them underground. She saw him – the real him – and she loved him as he was. To reward her for her devotion, he ran off to the Amazon, enduring a brutal WHO mission to escape the inevitable. That’s how much she terrified him.

Or so he thought. While he hadn’t led the easiest life, he soon learned that he hadn’t known what true terror was. The night he held Kaycee’s gaunt frame in his arms and watched the light dim in her eyes, that’s when he knew. Unsure if she’d live to see the morning, he promised if she made it through, the time for running would be over. He’d face his fears and do everything in his power to let her know just how cherished she was... and he had.

For months now, they were finally together, albeit secretly. That was her wish, “Let’s keep this quiet until my residency is over, OK?” she insisted. It wasn’t his preference; it wasn’t even hers, but he understood why.

Last week, when Ethan realized their relationship was missing a crucial milestone – an official first date – he knew he had to remedy that, and no ordinary date would do. Now that the night was here, Ethan was determined to give Kaycee the kind of night she deserved. And that’s why he was so nervous... it had to be magic. She deserved nothing less.

_____

Over at Kaycee’s apartment, she was a bundle of nerves herself. Sienna and Jackie had turned her tiny bedroom into a makeshift glam squad headquarters. Which was just as well; her hands were far too shaky to deal with makeup today.

“Stop fidgeting,” Sienna gently scolded, curling the last strand of Kaycee’s hair. “You’re going to ruin your makeup, and I’ll have to start all over again.”

“I still don’t get why you’re so worked up over this,” Jackie chimed in. “It’s Ethan. He helped save your life. You already know he loves you, and he’s provided you with mind-blowing orgasms. This improvised rom-com night is just to have something to tell your future rugrats – who I will refuse to watch – for the record.”

Kaycee shot her a look through the mirror. “Thanks, Jackie. Your romantic advice is greatly appreciated.”

Jackie smirked. “Hey, anytime.”

Sienna stepped back to admire her work. “Ta-Da! What do you think?”

Kaycee looked at her reflection. Her soft golden curls perfectly framed her face, her makeup was subtle but striking, and her midnight-blue dress hugged her curves in all the right places. “I think… I might be able to pull this off.”

“Pull it off?” Sienna laughed. “Looking like this, you may get a proposal!”

Kaycee laughed off that notion. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, now, Si!”

Just then, the doorbell rang. “Oh, crap! Is that him already?”

Jackie looked at her incredulously. “Kaycee... what’s the problem? You’re ready!”

“Jackie!” Sienna scolded. “Don’t make Kaycee more nervous than she already is! Go and tell Ethan she’ll be right out.”

With a roll of her eyes, Jackie headed to the front door, opening it with a smirk as she took Ethan in from head to toe. “Eh, I guess you clean up pretty well,” she acknowledged, kicking the door open. “Come sit in the living room, Prince Charming. Cinderella is just adjusting her glass slippers; she’ll be out in a minute.”

Ethan sat on the weathered couch, looking every bit the composed physician he was, even though he felt more like the nervous schoolboy he was decades ago. But when Kaycee stepped into the room, everything changed.

“Kaycee,” he gasped, his breath catching as he stood to greet her. “You look... you look...”

“She looks hot as fuck,” Jackie jumped in.

“Honestly, that works,” Ethan chuckled. “You’re stunning, Kaycee.”

Kaycee blushed, tilting her head to the side. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Dr. Ramsey.”

“All right! All right!” Jackie scolded. “Please go on your date before you end up in her room and I need to put the white noise machine on to get any studying done.”

“She has a point,” Kaycee laughed, taking Ethan’s arm the second it was offered.

He escorted her to his car, a luxury sedan that was beginning to feel like her second home. Once they were seated inside, Kaycee turned to him with a teasing smile. “You realize taking me out like this comes with the risk of being spotted, right?”

He met her gaze with the confident look that often left her weak in the knees. “So, then we’re spotted,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“Ethan,” Kaycee rebuffed, though her smile was sincere. “I told you. Only our closest friends can know about us until I finish my residency.”

“I’m well aware,” he grinned, leaning closer. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Yes…,” she sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Begrudgingly, but yes, I do.”

“Then just sit back and relax. Leave the night to me.”

_____

The Boston cityscape whizzed by as Kaycee glanced out the window. “So, where are you taking me?” she asked.

“What fun would it be if I told you,” Ethan smiled as they pulled up to a heliport.

“A helicopter ride?” Kaycee said, her eyes wide. “What if I’m terrified of helicopters?”

“Well, you’re not. You mentioned wanting to take a helicopter tour of Boston on the second day of your residency.”

Kaycee’s face glowed as she turned to him. “And you remembered that?”

Ethan’s face softened as he looked into her eyes. “When it came to you, Rookie, I paid attention. Right from the start.”

She leaned in to kiss him as they headed to the waiting chopper, her heart racing from the adrenaline and a tiny bit of fear.

“Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Me? Pfft!” She said with bravado. “I jumped out of a plane, you know?”

Now it was Ethan who was wide-eyed, “You what?”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. “I’ll tell you about it later,” she said, placing on her safety belt. “Come on! I can’t wait to get up there.”

As they ascended into the sky, the city they both loved unfolded beneath them, a tapestry of glistening lights shimmering in the night. It was even more beautiful than she imagined it would be. “Wow,” she whispered, her nose all but pressed against the glass. “This is… incredible! I can’t believe you thought of this!”

Ethan was delighted, and while Kaycee was captivated by the view, he only had eyes for her. Wrapping his arm around her, he whispered in her ear. “Only the best for you.”

The pilot pointed out the city’s iconic landmarks as they circled the night, and Kaycee couldn’t help but tease Ethan when Edenbrook Hospital was pointed out.

“So,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs. “Are we going to land on Edenbrook’s roof?”

“Sure,” he laughed. “That’s a great plan to keep our relationship under wraps.” He leaned in and kissed her, his heart more full than he ever imagined it could be. “Just sit back and enjoy the view. I want you to remember this.”

She quickly reassured him. “It would be pretty hard for me to forget.”

_____

A short time later, Ethan was behind the wheel of his car again when Kaycee began thanking him for such a lovely night.

“Wait. Do you think the night’s over?” He asked with a furrowed brow. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t take you out to eat?”

“You would be a man who clearly doesn’t know that my love language is food!” Causing Ethan to laugh. But Kaycee wasn’t done. “All right, the helicopter was a great way to have a ‘secret’ date. But we can’t exactly march into one of Boston’s finest restaurants dressed like this without being outed.”

“MacCLennan,” he groaned. “Please. Trust me.”

He parked his car and opened Kaycee’s door, walking to a marina nearby.

“What is that?” she asked as Ethan pointed to a massive yacht anchored just yards away, its sleek bow glistening under the moonlit sky.

“It’s a boat,” he deadpanned.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. I know it’s a boat, but I thought you were going to feed me?”

“Oh, I am,” he insisted. “I’ve seen you hangry, and honestly, if that happens, I can’t guarantee you a second date.”

Kaycee’s playful punch landed on his arm a bit harder than anticipated, and he let out a little scream. “OUCH!” he yelled.

“You know, I think you’re on to something with that hangry thing, Ramsey,” she winked. “So I hope this ship has some snacks?”

“Snacks?” He asked. “Do you really think I’m going to offer you snacks on our first date? I can do better than that,” he grinned as he escorted her onto the yacht.

A tuxedoed man greeted them upon entering. “Good evening, Dr. Ramsey, Dr. MacClennan.”

“Wait, is this a restaurant?” Kaycee asked.

“Not exactly,” Ethan smirked as they walked into a stunning room surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. A candlelit table was in the center, and Ethan pulled out Casey’s chair as the boat began to sail with the Boston skyline twinkling behind them. “Since we aren’t ready to go public yet, I thought privacy was of the utmost importance, and this is as private as it gets.”

“Wait,” she said, a little crinkle above her nose. “You...”

“Rented the yacht, hired a chef and a wait staff for the ultimate private dining. Yes,” he said with a satisfied grin. “That’s exactly what I did.”

Casey’s mouth hung open, her hand over her chest. “Ethan!” She gushed, “This is... unbelievable! You know that you were going to get lucky at the end of our date no matter what, right? You didn’t have to go to these extremes.”

“Well, If I had known that, I could have saved a pretty penny,” he laughed, taking her hand across the table. “Kaycee, we had quite an... eventful... start to our relationship, and we still have challenges... like having to conceal our feelings for a bit longer. And you’ve handled everything with such grace. You deserve this. I wanted our first “official” date to be an extra special night. I hope I delivered.”

“Ethan Ramsey,” she beamed, squeezing his hand. “You have more than delivered!”

The waiter served all of Kaycee’s favorite dishes: lobster bisque, shrimp scampi, then homemade pasta and braciole.

“Wait!” she said when that last item was served. “This looks awfully familiar!”

“That’s because it’s your mother’s,” Ethan advised. “I knew no one would make it as good as she does, so she made a batch, and I had it flown in from Philly.”

“Flown in from Philly?” she yelled. “Ethan! Isn’t that a little... over the top? I appreciate it, but...”

He held a forkful of the dish up to her mouth. “Do you want to continue complaining, or would you prefer to eat?”

“Eat!” She said, groaning with delight as she took a bite. “Definitely eat.”

When the final course arrived—a box of pizza from her favorite Boston spot, Pizzaria Regina —Kaycee burst out laughing. “Ethan! Are you kidding? I can’t possibly eat another bite!”

“Good,” he said, leaning closer. “Because we have the yacht for the night. It has a bedroom, you know, and I have some ideas for how we can work off dinner. But I know you... you’ll want a snack after.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “What about dessert?”

He smirked. “That is dessert. Though there are cannolis and cupcakes, too.”

“Cannolis and cupcakes?” She gasped. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“You might want to wait for the bedroom course to make that declaration,” he teased with an affectionate grin.

Kaycee leaned in and kissed him. “You’re something else, Dr. Ramsey. I’m so lucky you’re mine.”

“And you’re perfect, Dr. MacClennan. So you deserve a perfect ‘first date.’ Did I deliver?”

“I think so,” she winked. “But let’s get to that bedroom course. It’s the only way I can say for sure.”

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