#anyway this took six hours and for the last like 2 of it i had a migraine so im going to sleep‼���‼️

[necromancer-snail]

WOAH Edwin art‼️

[phagodyke]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

[darkmatilda]

╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

part 2: second day of investigation

part 1 here!

part 3 here!

in which you and the bau are handling the case of a murderer in a small, sleepy town

tw: decapitation, description of the crime scene etc, mention of a suicide attempt, mental illness

contents: spencer reid x fem!baureader, solving a criminal mystery, angst, slow burn

words: 7.3k

okay, i realize how incredibly long this is but that's just how i am, i have to stretch every scene to the limits. i'm sorry!!!" anyway, i hope you'll enjoy it <3

You were pulled out of bed at five in the morning.

 Just three hours after you’d finally managed to fall into a light, broken sleep. Maybe you hadn’t really been sleeping at all — just lying there with your eyes closed, half-aware? You weren’t sure. The exhaustion weighing on you suggested the latter. Yet you didn’t complain. As soon as you learned that another body had been found in that same cursed forest, it felt like you’d been plunged into an ice-cold bath. All that mattered now was reaching the crime scene as quickly as possible.

You and Spencer ended up in the same car with Hotch and Rossi. Although the drive took almost half an hour, it passed in the blink of an eye. None of you spoke; the tension was evident on each of your faces. You’d dressed more comfortably than the day before, opting for navy jeans and sturdier shoes better suited for walking in the forest. In the rush, you hadn’t changed out of your pajama shirt — you’d simply thrown on a black leather coat over it. You buttoned it up carefully so no one would notice the shirt featuring a duck holding a knife with the caption I have stability (ability to stab), easily the worst possible choice of clothes for examining a murder scene.

The next steps proceeded in a typical, meticulous way. Everything around was secured, and you examined the body, which was roughly in the same state of decomposition as the bodies of the city council members. The inflicted wounds also appeared to be similar. There was a missing head, but aside from that, there were relatively few injuries.

At sunrise, the whole team gathered near the cars. Derek leaned against one of them, and you all had sleepy, slightly puffy faces with dark circles under your eyes. JJ looked so good and put together that you found yourself wondering if she went to sleep fully dressed in her professional attire.

“The victim is a man with an unidentified identity, but there is a strong likelihood that this is the missing city councilman, Percy Donovan, who disappeared in the last few weeks.”  Hotch informed you all. “This trio of women, who were treated the most brutally, were the earliest victims, lying in this forest for about six weeks. The one found last night was likely killed around the same time as the other two city council members. It’s unclear why his body was left in a different location, but considering the relatively short distance, it might have been a matter of convenience for the perpetrator. He was unable to transport all three bodies at once, so he delivered the last one after some time. He discarded it closer to the road but concealed it more carefully. The time of their death is estimated to be around three weeks ago”

“Let’s analyze everything from the beginning,” Rossi suggested, raising both hands. “The unsub’s first victims were killed six weeks ago. They were three women: a teacher, a social worker, and…”

“A worker from the orphanage,” Reid recalled. 

“Then there’s a three-week gap, and three more bodies are hidden in the forest. This time, there were two men and one woman, all of whom were city council members. The only connection between all six victims is that their heads were severed. Don’t you think we might be dealing with a duo? That would explain the differences in brutality.”

“That’s one possibility,” Hotch agreed. “I asked Garcia to check for criminals or psychiatric patients who have been released recently, but she didn’t find anything noteworthy.”

The sheriff approached you, the same big man you’d seen before. Shock was written on his face; as a cop in such a small town, he likely rarely dealt with cases like this.

“I knew Percy,” he shared immediately. “I knew him very well. We sometimes went out to the bar together to play pool. He had some problems in his marriage; they often argued. When he disappeared, I thought he had just left because he needed some space…”

“We’re very sorry,” JJ said gently. “Yesterday, you mentioned that you know a lot about the people in this town. Could you provide us with more information about the victims? We’re trying to find any connections, if there are any.”

Before they stepped aside to discuss this, Reid raised a finger.

“Sheriff, do you think the offender had to know this forest well to choose to hide the bodies here? In these specific locations?”

Russell pondered the question.

“I don’t think so. In my opinion, it could have been anyone, and they didn’t necessarily have to be from here. I doubt he comes from this town; as I said, it’s mostly decent people.”

JJ led him a few steps away to begin their discussion. You and the rest of the team fell silent for a moment.

“One thing worries me,” Morgan said, furrowing his brow. “Okay, a lot of things worry me, but this one particularly. If there was roughly a three-week gap between the murders of these two groups of people, and the last bodies were found just three weeks ago…”

“That means the unsub could strike again at any moment,” you finished his thought, nervously clenching your hands into fists.

Everyone turned to look at you; you had just voiced a shared concern. Hotch stared into space for a moment, then nodded to himself as if coming to a decision. He spoke in his usual commanding tone.

“We need to take action. Morgan and Prentiss, you’ll meet with the families of the first three victims, the women, I mean. Rossi, you and JJ will go to the families of the other victims. Your job is to find out if there’s anything that could connect them. Y/N and Reid, your task will be to go to the forester’s lodge and gather information on whether anyone has encountered any suspicious individuals in this forest. I’ll head to the city hall to talk to the mayor.”

Everyone scattered, ready to tackle their tasks. You nodded at Reid and together you headed towards one of the cars, where you hesitated.

“Do you have a map of this town, or will we need to ask the sheriff where the ranger station is?” you asked, glancing back at the man still talking to JJ.

“I left it at the hotel, but it just so happens that I memorized the whole thing, so I know where we need to go. It’s not far at all.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“You memorized the entire map?”

“I always do that when we’re working a case in an unfamiliar place,” he explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Memorizing an entire map, with all the roads and landmarks. Just an everyday activity.

You snorted and got into the car, an unmarked police vehicle, on the passenger side.

“We'll have to stop at a gas station,” you said, fastening your seatbelt.

“Why? The tank’s almost full.”

“Coffee.”

He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. You glanced at his profile as he, focused on driving, pulled off the shoulder onto the road, choosing a direction.

“You couldn’t sleep last night, huh?” 

You shrugged. You didn’t want to get into the backstory of your sleep issues with him, so you decided on a slightly embellished answer.

“I couldn’t fall asleep for a bit; it’s usually like that in new places. But then I slept like a baby, really. At least until Hotch woke us with that call before 5 a.m.”

“No, you didn’t. I woke up a few times, and your breathing suggested you weren’t sleeping. It was too shallow and irregular. Normally, when someone’s asleep, it looks different because their breathing engages the diaphragm muscles.”

Did he really just analyze your breathing and deduce you hadn’t been sleeping? You looked out the window, momentarily at a loss for words, before deciding to turn it into a joke.

“Reid, this is the creepiest thing I’ve heard in a while.”

“Really? It’s just basic human physiology. So, back to my question, which you decided to turn into a joke to avoid answering”

“Jesus Christ, Holy Mother of God, yes, I couldn’t sleep because I forgot my sleeping pills,  and I can’t get a wink without them. What’s it to you?”

Your outburst of irritation caught him off guard. You immediately regretted your unpleasant tone; he had always been so kind to you. Reid paused for a moment, cleared his throat, and calmly returned to the topic. 

“I figured that out after you were so upset last night. When you told me you forgot something. You know, you could have just asked me or someone else on the team. It just so happens that I always have Ambien on me. I don’t need it anymore, but I carry it just in case.”

You fell silent, not knowing how to respond. You felt doubly embarrassed, especially since his initial question wasn’t even attacking! It was just that you had been so closed off, pushing that barrier further and further away whenever someone showed even a hint of concern for you.

The car glided along the empty road, one of those that seemed to stretch on forever. Like an endlessly long carpet with a white stripe down the middle, unfurling as you drove. Surrounding it was the forest—the same one where you sought refuge yesterday to avoid answering Prentiss’s question about your brother. Your reticence was becoming burdensome, but you didn’t know how to deal with it. When you opened up, you felt vulnerable, as if you were at the mercy of someone else. You also hated pity. Your mom loved it. She relished the chance to burden random people waiting at the same bus stop with tales of how her husband didn’t love her and how her kids hated her, even though none of that was true. Talking to someone about yourself made you feel just like her.

As you drifted off in thought, filled with a sense of guilt, Reid spoke up again.

“I’ve noticed recently...”

He barely began the sentence before he cut it off. He didn’t continue, as if the wind had slipped in through the slightly open window, snatched his words, and whisked them away to some unknown place, never to return.

“What have you noticed?” you asked.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” he replied, shaking his head.

“You can say it, whatever it is. I won’t be offended.”

Deep down, you were afraid his comment would hurt. Maybe he’d say, “Your inability to open up is just pathetic. And it’s not just me; the whole team thinks so. Though honestly, it’s probably better that you don’t say anything. None of us want to hear about it.” Just the thought of him saying something like that tightened your chest, and you went pale. It was a stark reminder of how much you feared what others thought of you. You knew Spencer would never say something like that—he might not always be socially adept, but cruel comments were not in his nature. What scared you more was the possibility that he could think that way about you. You were terrified that it might be true.

Meanwhile, Reid asked:

 “Do you like autumn?”

You let out a surprised laugh. “That’s what you’ve noticed lately? That I like autumn?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m asking if you like autumn.”

Your confusion left you momentarily speechless. You looked at him as if he were a math teacher back in school trying for the third time to explain what a logarithm actually was. That question distracted you from your earlier, unpleasant thoughts.

Looking at his slight smile, you answered. 

“I’m not a fan. I hate it, actually”

“Really?” 

“I don’t know why people love it so much. It’s cold, it makes our work harder. It rains, and you've seen the extent of decay those bodies had because of it. Again, it’s cold”

It seemed that your arguments didn’t resonate with Reid.

“You’re looking at it from a very practical standpoint. For our line of work, I agree, autumn can be terrible. But there’s something enchanting about it. The leaves. Reading in the evening while it’s raining outside is particularly enjoyable.”

“I personally prefer reading in the bright sun, on the beach, soaking up the rays. Without the risk of my hand falling off from the cold as soon as I pull it out from under the blanket to turn the page.”

He laughed.

“In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve learned more about you than I have in the past year,” he said. “That you have a brother, you definitely prefer summer over autumn, and you love Haruki Murakami’s books.”

“That’s all because we’re roommates now.”Wait, I’ve never told you I like Haruki Murakami!”

“I saw you reading his book yesterday. Kafka on the Shore.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like him.”

“You read more than half of that book on the flight, hardly taking your eyes off it. You only paused when your brother called you. You were completely mesmerized, so I’m guessing you must’ve liked it.”

He was right; you had been completely absorbed in that novel. So much so that you didn’t even realize he had been watching you on the plane. Seizing the opportunity, you asked him for his interpretation of a certain part of the plot that seemed unclear to you. For the rest of the flight, you listened intently as he passionately shared his thoughts, surprised that someone could talk about a book with such enthusiasm.

The smiles faded from your faces as the car suddenly jolted. Concerned, you looked around for the cause and quickly figured out what had happened. Reid had veered off the main road and onto a forest path leading to a cabin. Due to the rain, it had turned into a muddy mess, making it difficult for the car’s wheels, ill-suited for such terrain, to push through.

“How much further it is?” you asked. ““Maybe it’d be better if we walked from here. We don’t want the car to get stuck” 

Spencer agreed with your suggestion. Your shoes sank into the mud as soon as you touched the ground. The weather that day was better than before; a gray layer of clouds hung overhead, but it wasn’t raining. The air around you felt pleasantly crisp and invigorating. You took a deep breath that tasted wonderful, energizing like coffee. Your companion cursed softly under his breath as his feet began to slip on the troublesome surface as well.

“So, do you still like autumn that much?” you couldn’t help but ask teasingly.

“I love it,” he assured you, in an exaggeratedly eager tone. But after taking just one step, he nearly fell over. “God dammit…!”

You burst into loud laughter and confidently moved ahead. You’d learned your lesson from the previous day and put on more comfortable shoes, which you were very grateful for. The ones you were wearing not only repelled water but also minimized the risk of tasting the mud.

There was just a straight path leading to the cabin, and after a moment, you spotted a wooden, wide building with a sloped roof on the horizon. It looked rugged, not like one of those places city folks rented for the weekend to feel connected to nature.

As you walked, you didn’t turn back, busy looking around. Behind you, Reid was probably struggling for his life on the slippery path.

You reached the cabin first. Instead of knocking right away, you decided to wait for your companion. Just as you were about to turn around and shout some motivating phrase to him, the door swung open on its own.

You came face to face with a young man who had a military hairstyle. It was worth noting that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

He looked you up and down, nodding to himself.

“Lost, are you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Or maybe it was just your imagination, but he seemed to be trying to adopt a slightly flirtatious tone. Behind him, from inside the house, a loud barking could be heard. “Ares, quiet!”

By the time he turned back to you, Reid had already caught up and pulled his badge from his pocket.

“We’re with the FBI, and we’d like to ask a few questions.”

“Alright, so you’re definitely not lost… But hang on a sec, let me see your badge too. You’re way too young to be in the FBI,” he said, eyeing Reid as well. “You both look too young.”

“And yet,” you replied, patiently reaching for your badge.

He nodded and held the door open for you with a slight flourish. He didn’t seem the least bit fazed that the FBI had shown up on his doorstep. You wondered if he’d act differently if, instead of you two, it had been Hotch and Morgan paying him a visit.

“Take it easy,” he said, nodding to the Doberman at his side. “He’s aggressive, I won’t lie. But as long as you don’t make any sudden moves, we should be good. Ares, off you go.”

Reid glanced at you with amusement, and the corners of your mouth twitched. The ranger’s doberman was… a puppy. Tiny, tail wagging eagerly, clearly thrilled to see you both.

"Are you here alone?" you asked, looking around for any sign of others. From what you knew, there were usually a few rangers stationed together.

"Yeah, I’m the only one responsible for this whole area." he replied, folding his arms over his hips, where his loose pants hung low. He hadn’t even bothered to put on a shirt.

He had this strange ability to take up way more space than his body actually needed, standing with his legs planted wide apart. He also tried to look down on everyone around him—though it didn’t quite work, since Reid was taller than him.

"We’re here to ask you a few questions," Reid informed him once again.

"I heard you the first time"

You definitely didn’t like the tone of his voice. The unpleasantness of it made him far less attractive in your eyes. That was just how you were; you were drawn to well-mannered men who didn’t feel the need to assert their masculinity at every turn.

"This is related to a six-fold murder, so I'd advise you to tone it down a bit when talking to the FBI” 

Reid's sharper tone created an immediate tension between the two of them. The ranger tilted his head to the side, his shoulders suddenly drooping.

“Wait, sixfold?”

The information about the last body found had not yet been made public, though it was surely only a matter of time. The sheriff seemed like a complete gossip.

"It was found last night, so be aware that this case is extremely serious. We need to know if you’ve encountered anyone suspicious while patrolling this area in the past six weeks. Actually, it would be best if you could list everyone you remember."

"Actually, it might be better if you asked for my name first. It’ll come in handy for the report."

"Oh, right." His comment threw you off your rhythm. You should have done that first. He smiled at you, and you felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks. It wasn't because of his charm but rather from being caught in an unprofessional moment.

That was enough for Reid to look at you with a judging expression.

His phone suddenly rang.

“It's Hotch,” he said, furrowing his brows. He briefly touched your elbow, and his gaze softened significantly compared to how he had been speaking to the ranger. “Can you handle this? It shouldn't take long.”

You nodded, and he stepped aside to take the call. The ranger extended his hand as if he was just welcoming you to his home.

By the way, the cabin seemed quite cozy, mainly with wooden furniture, a fireplace, and a fur rug. Two sets of doors led out of the main room, one to an open kitchen and the other presumably to a bathroom or bedroom. His dog happily circled around your legs, and you bent down to gently pet him.

“Do you want to sit down, agent? I thought you came here on foot.”

“I’ll stand. The car didn’t quite handle the road. We left it nearby.”

“Yeah, that happens a lot, especially after the rain. There’s no way a typical patrol car could get through that. But anyway, I’m James Rivas. What did you want to ask me? Who caught my attention over the past six weeks?”

He sighed, thinking.

“That’s a really tough question, considering I often forget and feed the dog twice in the same morning. But I do remember a few people. First of all, there was a certain couple…”

“A couple? Two men? Or maybe a woman and a man? Did they seem nervous when they saw you?”

“A couple, as in a guy and a girl. Now that I think about it, she looked about twelve, probably his daughter.”

Your enthusiasm waned a bit. One of your theories was that the murders were committed by a duo, but the people he described didn’t sound like the perpetrators of such acts at all. He mentioned a few more people, mostly dog walkers, who caught his attention for trivial reasons like a flashy scarf or a pretty face (when he spoke about a woman). Even though the information didn’t seem particularly useful at first glance, you wrote it down in the small notebook you had brought with you.

Who knows, it might come in handy?

Reid returned with a serious expression on his face. You immediately straightened up, fearing what he might say.

“Another body has been found.”

“What?” you nearly shouted. The ranger also tensed up, abandoning his relaxed, flirtatious attitude. “Seventh? Where?”

“At a pumpkin farm. Apparently, some teenagers stumbled upon it; there were a lot of people at the scene, and a little panic broke out. Hotch wants us all there. Have you finished?” He glanced at you and James.

You raised your notepad and nodded. The skin on your hands paled from how tightly you were gripping the item.

Together, you started toward the door. You wanted to turn to the ranger and thank him for his help, as it hadn't been as difficult to cooperate with him as you might have thought. At that moment, he stopped you from leaving with a hand gesture.

"To the pumpkin farm? You'll get there faster through the woods than on the main road, but your car won't make it there. I'll give you a ride in my SUV."

You looked questioningly at Reid. You were both eager to get to the scene of the body as quickly as possible. The offer sounded tempting, but not entirely safe. He immediately shook his head in refusal.

"We'll manage," he said to James.

"Seriously, come on," the man insisted.

Reid opened his mouth to refuse again when James suddenly stepped closer to you, reaching for something in his pants pocket. You took a step back, having learned from experience, while your friend moved one step forward in a defensive gesture.

However, the ranger had no bad intentions — it turned out he was going to hand you the car keys.

"You can drive," he said. He closed the keys in your fingers as if offering you some precious item, grabbing you with both hands in the process. You were in too much of a hurry to flinch. You nodded gratefully. He smiled. "Actually, you have to, I just drank a beer. Plus, I’m coming with you; someone has to navigate, and who better to do it than me?”

You agreed, and Reid sighed, clearly unhappy with how things were turning out. James hurriedly grabbed a shirt and led you behind the house, where his black Jeep Wrangler was parked.

Following his lead, you settled into the driver's seat, though it stressed you out a bit. Since getting your driver's license, you hadn't had many opportunities to drive; you preferred the subway or, lately, relying on Prentiss's kindness.

“Don’t worry,” the ranger laughed as you hesitantly set off in the direction he indicated. “Now…”

“Turn left,” they both said at the same time.

James looked surprised at Reid, who was sitting right behind you in the back seat.

“How do you know that?”

“I memorized the entire map of this town and the surrounding area,” Reid replied with a shrug.

“You did…what?”

You and Reid smiled at each other in the front mirror.

The mentioned farm resembled a place straight out of an autumn photoshoot, where a pregnant woman embraces her partner against a backdrop of pumpkins arranged on hay bales or something like that. People came to this place from bigger cities, buying overpriced tickets and spending the whole afternoon strolling among rural decorations and props, soaking in the small-town atmosphere. From what you learned from the forest ranger, they also had horses there.

You got out of the car as soon as you spotted Hotch standing by a table made of red planks. There was no sign of anyone else from your team around, so you assumed that thanks to the shortcut, you had arrived there first. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the sheriff’s car, several patrol cars, and a group of shaken people who must have made that traumatic discovery.

Among them was a certain teenage girl. You looked at her with pity; she would likely remember this for the rest of her life. The forest ranger walked off to speak with the sheriff, while you and Reid headed toward your boss.

“Good thing you got here so quickly,” he said, eyeing the black jeep warily. However, he didn’t ask any questions, likely too absorbed in the case to think about it. “They were found… just see for yourselves.”

You exchanged a worried glance with Spencer. Hearing such words, you could expect the worst. You held your breath and allowed yourself to be led to two pumpkins placed in a secluded spot next to the barn. All the others you passed were huge, perfectly shaped, and brightly colored. But in these two specific ones, holes had been made, as if someone wanted to place a lantern inside. Instead of candles, however, there were… human heads inside.

“Oh my God…” you whispered, taking a step back. You bumped into Reid, and dazed, you mumbled some apologies. However, your gaze remained fixed on Hotch. “Did… did this young girl find this?

He nodded. It was only after a moment that you felt a hand gently placed on your shoulder. You looked up to see Spencer’s face.

“Were the other parts of their bodies found?”

“Only the heads,” your boss replied in an unreadable tone. “Y/n, I’d like you to talk to this girl Not interrogate her, just talk.”

Despite being shaken, you nodded eagerly. You had always considered yourself one of the more sensitive ones in this field, better suited for making deep psychological analyses based on the childhood or life experiences of an unsub rather than the crime itself. Still, you had no choice but to deal with such sights daily; you had toughened up a bit, which couldn’t be said for this girl. You shook off the tension in your body, put on a composed expression, and made your way toward her. The people surrounding them, including the farm workers, stepped aside to let you pass.

“Hey,” you said as gently as you could. She was a blonde girl with such delicate beauty that she reminded you of a snowflake. Her bright eyelashes framed her cool-colored eyes, her pale complexion was almost flawless, and her light hair was braided. She looked to be about sixteen, wearing a white jacket and a powder-blue beret. “I’m Y/n. Can we step aside for a moment? We can sit down and wait for your parents to arrive…”

“I am her parent,” the sheriff replied, pointing to himself with his thumb, as if he thought you might have trouble understanding. It surprised you slightly. They looked completely different; he was huge with dark hair, while she was also very tall but petit. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that JJ and Rossi had already arrived at the scene.

“Well, I still think your daughter should sit down for a moment. She’s very pale and has been through a huge shock. What’s your name?” you asked her.

Her lower lip trembled, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Charlotte," her father replied. "I need to talk to her myself first. What are you doing here at this hour? It’s barely noon, you should be in school. Skipping classes?!"

"What does that matter right now?" you snapped at him, angry at his lack of empathy towards his own daughter. Charlotte gave you a grateful look. You looked your boss in the eyes. "Now we’re both leaving, and you can think about whether that’s the right tone to use with someone who’s seen something like that..."

True to your words, you led her aside, wrapping your arm around her. You managed to find a secluded spot and sat down on one of the hay bales.

"My dad is pretty strict," the girl explained. "He cares more about my school than about me."

"My dad was exactly the same," you said, though it wasn’t true. Your father didn’t care about you or your education. He didn’t care about anything except work. You lied to make the girl feel like you understood her situation. “But school is the last thing you should be worrying about right now. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. She had been sitting for about five minutes, and the color was slowly returning to her face.

“I’m… in shock. When I close my eyes, I see it right away, and… and I’m even afraid to blink. How can someone do something like that to another person?”

"I keep asking myself that question," you admitted.

"You're with the FBI, right?"

You nodded. Charlotte fell silent, staring at her hands.

"My dad’s right, I should be in school right now. I came here because I paint. I’m currently working on autumn-themed paintings for a school competition; I needed some inspiration..." The girl sobbed, the horrible sight must have flashed before her eyes.

You put your arm around her, and to distract her from it all, you asked about her passion, painting. She spoke to you in a quiet tone, telling you that she took up art after her mother’s death.

“After that, Dad shut himself off. He’s obsessed with rules, grades, my behavior, school attendance,” she scoffed, playing with her braid. “But he doesn’t even try to understand me, ever. The only person who understands me is…”

She trailed off, looking nervous.

“Someone special?” you suggested with a smile.

She shyly lifted the corners of her mouth.

“You could say that. Just don’t mention it to my dad…”

You made a key-turning gesture near your lips.

“Your secret is safe with me. Well, as long as you tell me a little about this Romeo of yours…”

The topic clearly cheered her up; she seemed less shaken.

“There’s not much to say. Dad would hate him. He’s his complete opposite.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, he is very different about the rules…”

This worried you. She seemed like such a polite, well-behaved girl, and you hoped she hadn’t fallen into the wrong crowd. You didn’t want to judge based on such limited information, but your intuition was speaking up again…

You were interrupted by Morgan’s arrival, calling you over for the team meeting. You said goodbye to Charlotte.

“If you need to talk about all this, I’ll be in town for the next few days,” you said, gently patting her shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation, you reached into your coat pocket for a notepad and quickly jotted down your phone number. You folded the note in half and offered it to the girl. You felt you had to show her some support, something she wouldn’t find from her parents. 

 Charlotte smiled at you with genuine gratitude — she seemed really nice, and you regretted that she had to see something like that. 

Arriving at the meeting point, you experienced a sudden shift in atmosphere, from light to serious and tense. You stood between Reid and Prentiss, waiting for what Hotch had to say.

Spencer glanced at you briefly, his eyes gentle, silently asking if everything was okay. You confirmed without words as well. This silent conversation felt almost amusing; without speaking, you both knew exactly what the other intended to say.

Emily's thin eyebrow shot up, but before she could say anything, Hotch spoke up.

“Morgan and Rossi are questioning the farm owner and the workers. They seem unhappy about the police presence, especially the FBI.”

You found it doubtful that these people had anything to do with the murders. Did they really risk hiding their heads at their workplace? In a movie — maybe. In reality—certainly not. And what could their motive be?

“JJ, we’ll need to issue a statement. Journalists are starting to gather, and we don’t want them spreading any misinformation. It’s important that we don’t give our unsub any nicknames. What did you learn from the victims’ families?”

One by one, everyone gave a brief report. You listened with bated breath, hoping for some vital information, but unfortunately, none of your team had discovered anything that could move the case forward. Finally, you summarized the ranger's testimony.

Prentiss looked like she was holding back an explosion. 

“What is all this about?” she finally burst out, throwing her hands up. “Why has the killer, or killers, suddenly changed the location where they’re dumping bodies?”

“Theoretically, we don’t know if they have,” Reid said. “Only heads were found on the farm; we don’t know what happened to the rest. Searches of the forest have just begun.”

“In any case, what’s the point of this charade? Does it thrill them to think they’re inflicting lifelong trauma on some random person?”

“Hotch, what’s next?” you asked, feeling a void in your mind.

“We’ll finish questioning the owner and his workers. Garcia is checking them out now. After that, we’ll wait for the identification of the newly found victims. Without that information, we can’t move forward. “

Your least favorite part of working on a case had arrived—idleness and waiting. Usually, that was when all your adrenaline would drain away, and your suppressed needs would strike back with double force. You were hungry, tired, had a headache, and needed a second coffee. Leaning your head back, exhausted, you suddenly felt someone watching you. The ranger was staring at you, leaning against the hood of his jeep. You signaled Spencer with a nod, and together, you approached him without much enthusiasm. You needed to head back to the ranger's cabin to retrieve the car you’d left there.

“Sick, isn’t it?” James asked, nodding toward the whole farm. “I can’t wrap my head around it. We’re heading back to mine now, right?”

“Just to pick up the car. I have one last question for you.”

You looked at your friend with curiosity, noticing a strange expression on his face, as if he’d suddenly connected some dots.

“In your opinion, as a ranger, would the killer need to know this forest well to dispose of the bodies in these specific locations?”

James hesitated before answering, looking Reid directly in the eye.

“Yes. I think so. It had to be someone who spends a lot of time here. This forest is huge — an outsider wouldn’t go that deep.”

Reid studied him closely. You frowned and walked back to the car. The three of you drove to the ranger’s cabin in complete silence. Fortunately, the police car was still parked exactly where you had left it.

“Will you drive?” Spencer asked, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I need to make a call.”

“Sure,” you replied, taking the keys from him. You got behind the wheel, casting him a curious sidelong glance, intrigued by what he was up to.

“Garcia? Have you finished checking out the farm owner and employees? Okay, but when you're done, could you also check someone out for me?” Spencer pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at you with a questioning expression. “What was the ranger’s last name?”

“You’re kidding,” you snorted. “James Rivas, but…”

“James Rivas,” he relayed to Penelope, gave her a quick goodbye, and ended the call.

Meanwhile, you had already merged onto the main road.

“Reid, it’s not him.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Intuition? Shaman, remember?”

“Well, your intuition isn’t exactly a reliable measure. It’s pretty easy to influence—by, say, sympathy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Sympathy? The guy’s a jerk, even my intuition can tell.”

Your explanation didn’t seem to convince him at all. You stared at the road for a moment, tapping your nails on the steering wheel. Reid crossed his arms, avoiding looking in your direction. The ranger had clearly gotten under his skin. You hadn’t liked him either, but even so, you thought suspecting him was a waste of time. You weren’t even sure why. You were slowly beginning to form a possible image, a profile of this killer in your mind. It wasn’t worthy of being voiced ye t— too sparse and vague, even to you, with many essential pieces still missing. But it definitely didn’t fit James. Chaotic, you realized that much.

“Do you think if he were our unsub, he would have just answered your question like that? About whether the perpetrator had to know the forest? That alone made him a suspect!”

“His ego wouldn’t let him answer otherwise,” he scoffed at first, then turned serious. “Did you see his reaction when I mentioned finding the seventh body? He tensed up, like he was spooked.”

“Well, I was spooked too. We’ve got a seven-time murderer, a decapitator, on the loose.”

He sighed in resignation, seemingly deciding there was no point arguing with you about it. As you drove, you wondered if you should outright clarify that you weren’t defending James because you liked him or, heaven forbid, found him attractive. But surely Reid didn’t actually think that… right? Then again, you could never be certain what was going on in his mind. It was vast and complex, with thousands of branches reaching off in completely different directions. Impossible to decipher.

You drove in silence, sighing back and forth every so often, as if hoping that these pitiful sounds would eventually prompt the other to speak up or change the subject. At the gas station, he stepped out of the car, and you asked him to get you the largest coffee they had. When he returned, he surprised you by silently handing you a sandwich as well, reminding you just how hungry you actually were.

The rest of the day, you spent with the team back at the pumpkin farm. Garcia had uncovered a very interesting lead. Most of the workers were employed off the books, without contracts, which likely explained the farm owner’s strange behavior. He’d been afraid — rightly so — that it would come to light.

This forced you to take a closer look at the workers, considering them as potential unsubs. But somehow, none of it seemed to connect. A dead end.

J had already given a statement on TV, but word about the victims’ identities still hadn’t come through. Because of this, Hotch decided to let you head back to the hotel early, a small reward for having been dragged out of bed so early that morning.

When he said it, you and Reid exchanged a smile, forgetting your little disagreement. The topic of the ranger never came up again—after all, Penelope hadn’t found anything on him.

You returned to the hotel relatively early in the evening, though with the time of year, it was already completely dark outside. You were utterly exhausted. The fact that you were planning to collapse into bed in your jeans was probably the best proof of that. But just before you did, you remembered you hadn’t called Jeremy since the day before. You hesitated before dialing his number—being in different time zones, it was already very late for him. Then you recalled your brother’s sleep schedule. Back when you’d lived together, he’d often go to bed around the same time you were getting up.

“Have you been wearing that shirt all day?” Reid asked, amused, as you took off your long coat. He was, of course, referring to the shirt’s graphic — a duck armed with a knife.

A smile appeared on your face as you opened your mouth to respond, but then you saw something that rendered you speechless.

“Y/n?”

Exactly eight missed calls from your mother. It wasn’t that alarming — she sometimes had a flair for the dramatic and would call over something as trivial as a broken egg, even though you had made it clear that you didn’t want to maintain contact with her anymore. However, a chill ran down your spine at seeing one missed call from your father.

You stammered, “I’ll be right back,” and headed to the bathroom. Once you closed the door, you leaned against it and dialed your mother’s number. It felt like an eternity waiting for her to pick up. During that time, the gentle movement of your knees turned into a tremor so intense that you had to grasp onto something for support.

“Mom?” you asked when she picked up. “What’s—”

“Finally!” her sobbing came through the line. The sound hit you like a powerful shockwave, leaving you feeling dazed and suspended in a void. “Oh my God, why haven’t you answered your mother all day? Do you have any idea what I’m going through right now? How do I feel? I was the one who found him…

You shook your head, partly in confusion, partly in denial.

“And through all of this, no one, not even your dad had asked how you were feeling! Abandoned by two children, including you, who wouldn’t even answer her calls…”

“Mom,” you barely managed to squeeze out, feeling an unimaginable weight in your chest. “You found who? Where?”

Your mother suddenly began to berate you for the lack of contact, completely ignoring your two questions. She shifted from shattered sobs to pure rage, almost hysteria. She had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder for years, and she approached her treatment carelessly, often forgetting to take her medication. In the face of difficult situations, she reacted in an intense, complicated manner, chaotically swinging from one extreme emotion to another.

Though her broken voice indicated that she, too, needed help, you pulled the phone away from your ear. You couldn’t bear to listen to her, too frightened by the visions that assaulted you. You needed to find out what had happened, and she wasn’t able to give you that information. With a heart-wrenching pain in your chest, you hung up.

With a trembling hand, you barely managed to dial your father’s number.

part 3 coming soon!

tag list: @miriamnox @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @nightfullofparadox

oh and i have one question for you guys, how to connect two parts of a story with each other?? i'm new on tumblr

[jellyfishbug]

SEATBELTS FIRST

pairing. chris x reader genre. smut with plot ! this is part two of pop the hood f'me not proof read.

content; mechanic!chris, smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, p in v, unprotected (wrap ur shit or ill catch you), spit, slight dumbification, creampie, praise, dirty talk, use of pet names, swearing this one is shorter because theres less build up. anyway, sorry for edging you guys, heres pt 2 :)

I got the call around six thirty the next day.

I was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter island in the center with an apple in my mouth when my phone started to buzz in my back pocket. I set my belongings down and struggled until I finally tugged it out of the tight sleeve and glanced at the screen, an unknown number displayed at the top.

I swiped my thumb to answer, pressing it up to my ear and taking the apple out of my mouth to speak, "Hello?"

"hey, it's Chris," I feel my eyes go wide, the apple that was once in my hand dropped onto the counter with a thud. "your truck is good to go- I can drop it to you when I get off."

I swallow, my mouth now paper dry as I reach to stop the apple from rolling off the counter. "Okay- yeah, sounds good. Thank you,"

I could hear the smile in his voice as he laughs lowly before replying, "can't wait."

The line went dead, indicating that he'd hung up. I lowered my phone away from my ear and placed it on the counter next to the apple and stared at it, momentarily averting my gaze to the clock a couple seconds later. He gets off soon .

I'd felt nervous about picking up the car; the night before, when I'd had to reluctantly deny his advances in the backseat to get home on time, he understood and said something along the lines of ''S okay, its not the last time i'll see you, m' sure of that."

But regardless, I felt even more awkward when I had to make him park at the end of the street so i could walk up and make it appear like I'd taken the bus to my dad, rather then have him watch me pulling up with a random kid in a car he'd never seen before. Chris just laughed and nodded at my request, pulling over near the sidewalk at the end of my street and leaning over to press a kiss on my lips, smiling at me when we parted. He opened my door for me with the other hand and said, "I'll call you tomorrow,"

And he did.

About an hour after he called, I saw my truck roll up through the kitchen window above the sink. Chris sat in the driver's seat, and I watched like an idiot as he popped open the drivers door and hopped down, running his hand through his hair mindlessly.

He was wearing a black t shirt that hugged him, partnered with a pair of light wash levi's. His hair wasn't hidden by a bandana this time; it hung loosley, some strands hanging on his forehead and eyes.

My keys were firm in his grip as he walked up the stone pathway. I almost forgot I needed to answer the fucking door, too busy watching him duck his head to avoid the part of my roof that hovered over the front porch, tooth pick in his mouth as he pressed two knuckles to the door and knocked lightly.

The noise of his hand meeting the wooden door startled me back into reality - I shuffled around in the kitchen for a second before I walked up to the front door, taking a deep breath as I twisted the knob and opened it.

His head snapped towards me, a smile appearing on his face whilst he looked me up and down. I did the same, sizing him up with a nervous expression before finally turning it into a grin to match his.

"Hi," he said softly, taking the tooth pick out of his mouth and leaning against the doorway. Before I could even respond, he opened his palm, and I glanced down to see a pair of keys.

I took them from his grasp and grinned, pressing my bottom lip between my teeth. "Thank you," I paused, "For fixing the truck and for bringing it."

He nodded. "Not a problem."

I look away momentarily, glancing between him and the setting sun behind him. I turn around to look at the clock again; 7:34. My dad isn't home for a couple more hours, and I really don't want Chris to leave yet.

He raises his eyebrows at me once my eyes were back on him, like he already knows what I'm about to ask.

"D'you wanna go for a drive?"

A grin is back on his face, this one open-mouthed so I can see his teeth as he licks his lips and nods.

"Absolutely,"

I drove this time. Chris sat in the passenger seat, grinning stupidly with his hand out the window resting on the roof from the outside. The windows were rolled down, and as a result the wind was blowing through the car loudly, leaving no room for any sound between us besides laughter.

Finally, we started to approach a red light. Once we rolled to a stop, a he turned to look at me, toothpick still resting in his mouth. I kept my eyes ahead, nervous to look back, but once i realized he wasn't going to look away until i did, I finally glanced over at him.

His grin was still there, cocky as ever. He took his hand of the roof and let it back in through the window, resting his chin on against his palm.

"Whatch'ya thinkin about?" He asked, his voice soft and curious.

I leaned back against my seat with my head hanging off the head reat slightly, pausing for a moment before answering honestly;

"Yesterday."

He swallowed thickly, and my eyes followed the movement in this throat. He turned to face the road and dropper his head slightly to huff laughter through his nostrils, "Oh?"

I felt my stomach flip, and an excited feeling flooded my gut. I nodded slowly and Chris shifted in his seat, a flustered expression on his face at my words. It wasn't flirting - it felt too lewd to be flirting. But whatever it was, It was fun.

The silence was sharp enough to cut skin. I almost wanted to jump out of the car and leave it running in the intersection with Chris in it, but instead, i felt a pang of satisfaction when Chris raised his eyebrows and asked, "What time do you need to be home?"

The clock on the dash told me it was already 8:30. At this point, It wouldn't make sense for me to go home anyway, and I didn't plan on ending this conversation anytime soon. "Whenever,"

He nodded, a simple acknowledgment of what i said, but he didn't say anything else. The light turned green, and we were moving again. The wind blowing was loud, but quieter now; quiet enough that i could still hear him.

"D'you remember what i said yesterday?" He finally said, turning to stare at me.

I thought for a second, all the words - both filthy and sweet - that we'd said the day before. "One thing specifically?"

He nods. I want to remember, but considering the sheer amount of possibilities he could be referencing, I shake my head.

He licks his bottom lip. "I said I was gonna get you off- but you had to be home . ."

My breath hitches in my throat, and my grip on the steering wheel turns knuckle white. I nod my head. He hasn't looked away, and his gaze is starting to feel like it's burning my skin with every glance.

"You don't have to be home now,"

It came out breathier than he meant it to - I'm sure of that.

Immediately, my mind goes to how uncomfortable shuffling around in the backseat is going to be, especially when theres still daylight and someone could see us, but as if Chris is reading my thoughts, he takes the toothpick out of his mouth again to speak. "Pull over- ill drive."

I nod, not wasting a second to pull over once we're out of the intersection. I pop the drivers door open, leaving it open and walking around to the other side to switch seats, closing the passenger door loudly.

Chris steps up into the driver's seat and shifts the gear, "My place, yeah?"

I'm nodding before he's even done talking.

We're moving again, and he makes no effort to hide his excitement, my eyes darting to the speed tick on the dashboard as he swerves dangerously through and across lanes.

I'm almost nervous my car will end up back in the shop before we even get to his house with the speed we're going, but if it means I get to see him again, it doesn't sound so bad.

His hand moves to rest on my leg, the other carelessly gripping the steering wheel with occasionally glances in the rear view mirror, as well as occasional glances my direction. I pretend not to notice, but the anticipation is burning in my core at the feeling of his eyes grazing my frame.

Before I even noticed we were in a neighborhood, we pull into a driveway. Chris pushes the gear into park and twists the keys in the ignition until the truck is off and glances at me, a knowing smile on his face.

"You good?"

I must've looked red and flustered, and part of me knew that because of how hot my face felt, but embarrassment still lingered in my thoughts as i nodded.

"Yeah,"

He shakes his head and laughs lightly at my response, turning to open the door and step down. I watch as swings around to my side of the car to open mine, reaching a hand out to help me step down, smiling once my feet are on the concrete and the door shut behind me.

As we approach the front door, he fiddles with the keys on his carabiner before finding an orange one with "house" written on it in black sharpie. He unlocks the door and opens it with a small creak, glancing on either side of the living room before turning back to me, signaling me to follow him inside with a tilt of his head.

We walk up the stairs and down a small corridor before reaching the room at the end of the hall, wooden and covered in stickers. He opens it and waits for me to enter behind him.

Once i'm inside, i glance around to take in my serroundings; his bed is in the right corner of the room, neatly made with a handful of pillows carelessly thown against the headboard. Theres a small desk at the other end of the same side, and a handful of license plates carefully hung up above the window. Theres sports memorabilia too, some hockey sticks in a pot and a framed jersey hung near the closet.

I step closer to the frame, tracing my fingers along the glass to examine the fabric. "You play hockey?" I ask, glancing back at him with my hand still against the hung jersey.

He laughs, walking closer to me with his hands in his pockets. "Used too- haven't really played much since I graduated,"

I nodded with a hum of understanding, letting my hand fall back to my side as i walked back towards him. He studies my movements, and once i'm in front of him, i reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind is ear. I purse my lips, eager to fill the silence thats suffocating the both of us. "D'you street race?"

He makes a puzzled face, evidently surprised at the random question, eyebrows furrowed as he tilts his head at me. "Uh, yeah. I mean- sometimes with friends, or on roads in the middle of nowhere for shits and giggles. Why?"

I shrug. "You just... go really fast," my hands are still running through small strands of his hair. "And you swerve- but it's controlled and clean, like it's really familiar to you, or like you do it a lot - so I was just curious."

He grins, raising his eyebrows and stepping ever so slightly closer to me to peer down at me through hazy vision. "You starin at me or somethin?"

I feel my face flush pink and I roll my eyes, my hand finally falling away from his hair. "Maybe."

One of his hands leaves his pocket to draw circles on the waist of my jeans, still eyeing me mischievously. "I don't necessarily like racing for money," he says, his tone honest. "I just like the adrenaline of it- feeling your heartbeat in your throat n' shit. Its fun."

He gently drags one of his hands down my lower pack and puts it into my back pocket, pulling me closer to that we're pressed together completely. "Maybe I'll take you sometime,"

Before I can respond enthusiastically and tell him how much i'd love that, he hooks his other hand on my face with his fingers grazing the back of my neck, pressing his lips against mine.

I'm alarmed for a second until finally kissing him back, my hands on either side of his head, brushing against the stubble on his face. He's kissing with intention; almost impatient, like he's been thinking about this just as much as i have.

It's not long before he's sliding his tongue into my mouth, tilting his head to kiss me deeper, the taste of marlboro red's strong and tangy on his lips. He groans against my mouth, the sensation making a hushed whimper escape me.

He's so fucking cocky with everything he does, the smirk on his lips condescending and teasing as he bites down on my bottom lip in between kisses almost hard enough to bruise. His hand slides out of my back pocket to rest against my back, pushing my lower half against him.

I pull back for a split second, eyes opening to glance into his momentarily, "you're a really good kisser."

He raises his eyebrows, and in an arrogant tone he responds, "oh yeah?"

I nod, a whiny noise building in my throat, growing tired of the absence of his pink lips and leaning back in quickly to kiss him again.

Faces still attached, he spins us around so that my back is facing my bed, walking us slowly towards it until my legs hit the frame and i plop down, frowning at the loss of the kiss.

He tugs at the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head before lowering to place one more kiss on my pouting lips, chuckling when my hands start to fiddle with his belt. "Lie down, sweetheart."

I furrow my eyebrows, "But I-"

He shakes his head, "No," he says, lowering to his knees in front of me. "It's my turn, isn't it?" His fingers trail along the waist of my jeans, fingers fiddling with the button. "Told you i'd get you off, didn't i?"

I lower my back against the bed, propped up on my elbows to eye him as I nod slowly. He grins, dragging my zipper down and wrapping his fingers beneath the fabric of my jeans, tugging them until they're completely off and forgotten on the floor next to him.

He leans down to trail open kisses from my stomach to directly above my core, then on the inner plush skin of my thigh, biting his teeth down lightly into the sensitive skin and swirling his tongue against the mark.

My fists curl against the sheets as I whine from the feeling of the bite, watching as Chris glances up at me with wild eyes through his eyebrows. He lifts his head and wraps his hands around my upper thighs, tugging until i'm resting directly at the end of the bed with my legs on either side of his head.

He tugs at the lining of my underwear, glancing up at me. "This okay?"

I nod quickly. "Please,"

He impatiently pulls them off me and tosses them to the side before continuing the previous action of kissing at my legs, and I start to squirm below him, impatient and restless.

"Patient," he says lowly. "We're not in a rush anymore, remember? 'Wanna take my time with you."

It's sweet; it is, but when he's hovering above where I'm aching the most lazily pressing kisses anywhere but where i need them, it just feels like torture.

"Chris, please, i don't care- jus' need you-" I'm cut off with a slight yelp as he's biting down again, harder this time, savoring the feeling of the soft skin in his mouth before pulling away and all but shoving two of his fingers into my mouth.

I swirl my tongue around his digits, the length of them causing them to brush against the back of my throat harshly enough to gag slightly, but i maintain composure as he slides them back through my lips.

He prods them at my entrance, lowering his head again to finally lap his tongue against my neglected clit. My head knocks back with a whine, lower lip between my teeth as he messily plays with the bundle of nerves.

He's cruel with his mouth, occasionally licking stripes up my cunt messily and groaning. My eyes roll into my head at the feeling of his stubble brushing against my inner thighs, feet shaking against his back as I dig my nails into the cotton sheets beside me. "Wet jus' for me, huh, baby?" he grumbles, his words muffled by me.

I part my lips to answer, but my jaw goes slack as he presses his spit covered fingers into my entrance, his mouth still latched to my slick folds as he pumps them in and out an agonizingly slow pace.

"Fuck," I hiss, one of my hands flying up to grip his hair. "Oh m' god, Chris." My back arches up slightly, but Chris firmly presses his free hand down on my hip, forcing me back against the bed and pressing his nails into the flesh to keep me still.

His fingers speed up the pace, and be grins against me as I whimper pleadingly. He lifts his head for a second to speak. "Yeah? Feel good?"

"So good," I babble, tugging harshly at the roots of his hair as he wraps his lips around my clit, swirling his tongue aggressively as his fingers continue to pump at a stupid pace, whimpers and desperate cry's of his name flooding out of my mouth.

"close?" He taunts, watching as my legs shake on either side of him. He replaces his tongue with his thumb and rubs circles on my clit. "gonna cum for me?"

The lewdness of his words makes the knot in my stomach get impossibly tighter, and I nod helplessly. My legs are aching to close as i chase the high, but Chris keeps them open effortlessly.

I finally snap as his fingers curl against a specific spot inside of me, a loud cry ripping from my throat whilst he continues to sloppily thrust his fingers and mutter praises. He finally stops when i grip his wrist tightly, squirming and whimpering in discomfort from the overstimulation.

He licks his fingers clean and extends back to his full height to lean down and kiss me, "You good?" he asks genuinely, the palm of his hand pressed against my stomach as he rubs his thumb back and forth soothingly.

"Really good," I respond, a warm feeling in my chest when he smiles cheekily. "Good," he says, standing back up to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down to his ankles, stepping out of them and leaving them bunched on the floor.

My lower lip mindlessly rests between my teeth, my expression flushed as i watch him palm himself through his boxers. He takes them off too, stepping closer to place his hands on top of my knees and glance down at me.

He wraps his hand around my wrist to gently tug me up, his fingers tugging at the end of my tank top a a silent request. I lift my arms and he pulls it off an throws it next to me. He leans down to kiss me again, his finger on my chin to lift my head up. "You're really pretty," he hums. I flush pink, the feeling of his eyes glancing over my frame stirring unfamiliar and needy feelings in my gut.

He cups his hand below my mouth, and when I glance between him and his palm dumbly, he clarifies. "Spit for me, sweetheart."

It felt almost dirty; too dirty. But when you compared it to me knee deep in the driver's seat of his car with his cock halfway down my throat and ducking to avoid the steering wheel a mere day prior, it felt like light work.

I pooled spit at the front of my mouth and spit into his palm. "Good girl," he hummed, eyes shifting down to his cock as he pumped it with his saliva coated hand.

He stepped closer, parting my legs and aligning himself with me before glancing at me. "Tap my thigh if you want me to stop, 'kay?"

"Okay," i say, bracing myself as he slowly starts to push himself inside me. My grip on the sheets turns my knuckles white, wincing at stretch, my walls clamping down around him.

Chris digs his teeth into his lip, and he pauses, glancing at my pained expression and my bottom lip that is also snug between my teeth, brows furrowed. "I know, baby. S'okay-doin' so good for me,"

I whine and shift below him as he finally bottoms out, his pressed firmly against me with his dick buried to the hilt. I want to squirm away and tell him its too much, but the painful stretch quickly turns to the pleasure of being full to the brim, and i dig my nails bluntly into his forearm.

"Fuck, so big," I gasp, looking at my lower stomach to see the clear bulge. Chris grins, and i know i'm boosting his ego, but the brain fog flooding through me isn't allowing me to bite my tongue.

"Takin' me so good," he groans lowly, hands still gripping my thighs as he starts to move, and i moan breathily at the feel of his cock dragging against my gummy walls.

He starts to pick up his speed, his grip on the sheets on either side of me tightening as his head hangs to watch my blissed out expression as moans escape my swollen lips, the grip i have on his arm turning animalistic. "S'good, fuck,"

He pulls his arms away to wrap around my legs to go faster, "Oh my god- Fuck," he grunts, and I mewl when he presses his hand down on my lower stomach to feel himself, applying just enough pressure to make my back arch, his dick pounding relentlessly into my gut.

"Yeah? You like that? 'Like how deep I am, baby?" He asks in a way that makes it so rhetorical when he watches my hands brush against his lower stomach mindlessly with pitful hiccups and whines escaping me. I want to answer him, but no words will form.

I'm starting to feel glad he didn't flip me over to fuck me from behind - the view of his pretty face and lips with his jaw dropped in a gasp was too good, and it only made my squeeze around him tighter, desperate to be filled.

"Too dumb on my cock?" he teases at my lack of response, letting his hand fall against my aching cunt to rub lazy circles on my sensitive clit. I squeeze my thighs together with a loud mewl, the pleasure raking through me like a wave.

"so close," I choked out.

It only encouraged Chris to press my knees closer to my chest, dropping his weight against me to fuck deeper. My mouth drops open silently as my legs begin to shake, the twist in my stomach snapping with a loud cry. My body trembles beneath him, his movements not halting as he fucks me through the high. I go limp below him, still whimpering as his thrusts turn sloppy. "Fuck, gonna cum," he rasps, pumping slower but deep. "Where d'you want it, baby?" i wrap my legs around his torso, muttering a 'inside, please.'

He curses under his breath. "Inside you, huh?" he chuckles, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. "S'that what you want?"

I nod rapidly, "Please, 'need it."

That seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he presses his hips firmly against me, coating my walls in thick spurts of white. His nails are digging into my legs, panting heavy while he presses lazy, tired kisses to my legs before leaning down and doing the same on the side of my head.

We stay like that for a second, catching our breath. I feel an ache growing in my legs as they lazily lower onto the bed when he leans off of me slightly, glancing down through hazy vision. He strokes his hand on my stomach affectionately, his touch soothing and sweet as he slowly pulls himself out, whispering apologies when i wince at the sudden soreness.

"You okay?" He hums. My arms fall to lay against my flushed face as i nod, swallowing to aid my dry throat before answering a small "yeah," He brushes thick strands of my hair out of my face with his index finger before lowering his fingers to cup my chin, "Gonna get somethin to clean you up, 'kay? Hold on."

He disappears for a minute into his bathroom, coming back moments later in a fresh pair of boxers with a clean, damp washcloth in hand. He gently parts my legs, carefully cleaning the mess we'd made off of me, his thumb rubbing circles on my upper outter thigh with his free hand.

When he's finished, he tosses the towel on top of his hamper, and then turns back, smiling at my relaxed expression. He puts his hands on either side of my frame, leaning down to press a kiss on my red, bitten lips. When he pulls away, he hovers just a couple inches above my face, the chain around his neck brushing against my chest.

"Next time you have truck troubles," he murmurs, his gaze flicking up to mine. "Don't come to the shop - jus' call me, ill come pop the hood for you."

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) reblogs, likes and follows are appreciated! ! criticism is also appreciated, its how i improve, but please be nice. links below . . . masterlists ! guidelines / info !

[running-with-kn1ves]

MASKED INTRUDER PT 3 I BEGGGGG, ugh, clingy inexperienced yandere + language barrier + overeager and aggressive + needy needy needy, He is perfect! Honestly i had a spiral and came straight here to read my comfort fics and i forgot how much i loved that one 🥺 leooooo

A/N: Still not sure what I should do about Leo's origins; I've had some thoughts but nothing really planned out. Anyway thank you lots anon!

Here's Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 Word count: 2400

TW: Possessiveness, jealousy, threats of murder, razor blades, average creepy dude living in your walls behavior

Synopsis: An unexpected guest comes over, causing chaos to ensue.

The sensation of soap under your fingernails and warm water running down your forearms was one of comfort that you openly welcomed. You couldn't remember the last time you took a bath, and you could hardly count this bathing of your 'roommate' as a bath of your own.

But with your shirt soaked and your forehead damp, you finally had what could be mildly considered a clean version of Leo.

He begrudgingly sat on the cool tile floor, allowing you to ruffle his hair with a bath towel (which was really a poor attempt to manage the mess of loose, lengthy curls on his scalp.) He needed a haircut for sure, but you couldn't muster up the courage to put the scissors to his head. 

Getting him out of the house to an haircut appointment would never happen. To say he was agoraphobic was a complete understatement-- he abhorred the outside world. You sometimes think about what would've happened If you hadn't taken pity on him, allowing him to continue to find refuge in your tiny home. Or, was it perhaps he was allowing you? Until, he found that you wouldn't suffice as a worthy roomate any longer, disposing of you like he could've done to whoever originally owned this home. The mystery surrounding his origin that he seemed to completely ignore answering on still made you… cautious.  

He still felt like an extension of the house; the smell of its creaky, rotting walls, still always clinging to him-- even now, after you scrubbed him down from head to toe twice. 

You grunted as you roughly tugged his head back and forth to rub the remaining water away. Unfortunately, that left you with a frizzy Leo with more hair spun out of control than you knew what to do with. 

He blindly searched for the towel behind him without turning his head, yanking it away when he felt it in his fingers. 

"Do it myself…" he mumbled croakily, like a rusted music box. 

"Alright." You said, slightly offended. You held your hands in front of you dramatically, watching Leo wrap himself with the towel.

He looked so frail like this, on the bathroom floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. His scrawny frame hardly gave him any weight either, even if he was above six foot. You wondered if he really could hurt you, if-- he ever had the urge, to stab you with the rusty razor blade you watched him grip after he came out of the walls once company left. 

How long would it be? Until he snapped,  until one argument was just too much, and you were no longer his favorite person in the world. Tonight was one of those nights, where you imagined yourself bleeding out on the floor, Leo standing above you with that blade, or perhaps a knife from the kitchen-- the one you noticed had gone missing a few days prior.

Your fear wasn't out of place despite how many times you tried to rationalize how stupid it was. 

Several hours earlier, before Leo was as clean as he was now, you had a guest over. 

It was an old university friend, a guy you met in your first year during some odd end prerequisite or math class-- You couldn't remember. But it didn't matter, at least not to Leo. 

The moment the "intruder" sat down, you heard Leo's presence shift behind him. You could see his black eyes peering in and out of the holes in the dining room, sounds of his sporadic shuffling echoing throughout the house. You cringed everytime your friend looked up and around himself in confusion, curious of the noise. 

"It's just rats," you cover, kicking the wall behind you with a force that should've knocked down the drywall. The sound of Leo letting out a thump of retaliation nearly made your smile crack.

 You had rescued your university pal several times over the course of that night, finding the dead bugs in his drink before he could've noticed, and shutting Leo back into his hiding spots anytime you saw his hand or leg peek through, when he occasionally got the courage to try and dispose of the 'threat.'

It wasn't until your guest had asked to use the bathroom however, that Leo managed to gain a win. Cursing and yelling from the locked door made you panic, the few minutes of silence in the living room having seemingly tricked you of peace. You should’ve known that silence never meant a good thing. 

Sprinting to the bathroom, you got there in time to find your old friend covered head to do in dust and dirt, the bathroom vent still emitting a cloud of grey. Dust fell from the vent, spraying with the blow of the air conditioning. 

"Stop!" You screamed, kicking the back of the bathroom wall multiple times in retaliation. The dust immediately lessened, flecks still falling into your hair. You grunted and cursed, seeing the disaster your bathroom had become and the filth your friend was left in. 

It was safe to say you escorted him quickly out thereafter, blaming the “malfunction” on your worse for wear vent ducts. His confused expression lingered as you walked him out the door. Your horrible cover ups had you questioning whether or not he was convinced but thankfully there seemed to be some sort of unspoken understanding-- maybe he knew you had to be going through something from how odd your behavior was all night-- or maybe it was just misplaced pity.

 Either way, you were relieved to watch him exit the door with a washcloth you knew you’d never get back, telling him to be safe on his way home with a wry smile. 

Shutting that door was the biggest relief ever. The last person you'd want to know about your odd roomate situation was one of the few people in the world who had preconceived standards of you. 

You had never worried about Leo when you had groups of friends over; he never dared to leave from his hiding spot when more than one foreign person entered the house. But this time, it had been a single unknown entity, and a male one at that. You felt the realization hit you directly in the gut as your back laid against that cool wooden door, the sounds of Leo leaving one of his more trickier, less clean hiding spots echoing in the house.

"Leo?" You called out, a slight inflection of annoyance in your voice. 

You watched him crawl out of the large vent in your hallway, the metal grate coming off as two dirty hands forced it to the floor. Leo shimmied his way out of the tiny crawlspace, clouds of dirt coming with him as his legs finally came free. 

Scrambling up, the male blew dust out of his mouth, wobbly getting to his feet. With a sly glare and a satisfied expression, Leo looked towards to you silently; smugly. 

Pinching his ear and dragging him to the bathtub had been your first approach at reprimanding him; but it had done nothing to deter him. Leos silentness and resentful, pouting face left you to scold a brick wall, his rigidness extending to his body's heavy limbs and sluggish pace. 

Even now while slowly rubbing the towel back and forth on his scalp, his face turned away defiantly. 

A quiet moment passed as you watched him scrub himself dry. 

"I just… I don't understand why you have to act this way." 

Leo stopped. His head had been hanging low, thin wrists resting on his knees as water droplets rolled down the ends of his hair. His hand-me-down stretched pajamas covered his chest and thighs. You never thought an old pair of basketball shorts and a faded grey shirt would look so good on him, but you couldn't help to linger on his fingers and the curve of his neck muscles. 

Without warning Leo stood up, pushing off the ground with one hand as he held the towel loosely in the other. 

"What're you doing?" You question.

He wouldn't face you; his mask prosthetic was left on the edge of the tub, and without it-- well, it was impossible to make eye contact with him.

Leo reached for the light witch next to the shut bathroom door, flipping it without a word.

As soon as you saw him pull the light switch the color drained from your face. 

You didn't speak, waiting in the dark to see what Leo's next move would be. Maybe he hid that Razor blade somewhere in his clothes, and was aiming it at you right this second. 

"If you're gonna--"

"Shh." A voice hushed. 

The warmth of flesh was pressed against your lips. It was a finger; hot breath fanned above you,  the finger on your lips turning to a hand that cupped your cheek. Your face was held so securely, being tipped upwards as he stood leering above you. The bathroom was quiet save for the dripping of the bath pipe, and Leo's heavy breathing. 

Leo reached for you, awkwardly climbing atop your lap. He stumbled at first, but the way he curled his arms around your back, you felt like you couldn't let him go.

His nose nestled into the crook of your neck, crumpling into you like an animal looking for warmth. 

"I don't share…Don't like it.." he mumbled.

"What?"

"Things, my things.." He started, the sounds of his labored breaths hitting your ear. "Don't like it when… strangers touch… my things."

"Wai--Leo!" 

You couldn't help but search for his eyes in the dark, doing a happy little wiggle with him in your arms.

"Your voice has improved so much!" You beamed. He hadn’t spoken since the incident, and before that-- well, it took a lot to get him where he was.

“See, I knew pushing you would pay off.” You beamed, gloating in the feeling of success after remembering all the painful vocabulary lessons and hours of his stubborn behavior when you refused to answer his nonverbal pleads. 

Leo’s quietness as you pinched his ear beneath his fluff of loose curls gave you time to snap back to reality-- remembering the words he just spoke. Leo basked in the praise, gripping onto your damp shirt as he ignored your change in expression. 

The obvious possessiveness made you nearly cringe; this is exactly what you were trying to avoid. 

“But Leo, I’m not just yours- I’m everybody’s. There are other people my time has to be shared with--”

You were cut off with the flick of an all too familiar razor blade, twirling in Leos fingers.

“Then….I’ll kill them.” 

“....Kill?”

Leo leaned up, bringing his face closer to yours than he’d ever done before.

“I… wanna kill. Him. Kill….all of them..” His eyes were wide in the dark, and you could see the faint outline of the scars running down his face. You stared hard into his eyes, witnessing the fear and paranoia in them. “They’ll take.. You away. He will.” His throat was getting raspier, more raw. 

“Leo, you know you can’t say things like that..” You softened. He sounded so small, you could hardly believe his words. But in the back of your mind, alarm bells and bright red warning signs were going off. 

You reached for his face, hoping to hold it in your hands, feel the warmth of his skin. But Leo stopped you, holding your wrists. He rejected you from touching his face, again; had things truly changed? Had you made any progress with him?

And like clockwork, Leo reached for his mask, by the bathtub, sitting comfortably on your lap as he faced you. 

He adjusted the prosthetic on his face, resting it snugly as the back clipped. 

“You really wanna stop me from kissing you that badly?” You joked. 

But then the mask was lifted, just slightly, as Leos lips came closer for yours. Now that you brought the idea up, he wouldn’t let it go. 

“Kiss..” He mumbled, trying to reach for your face.

“Ah ah,” You waved a finger at him. “Don’t think I’m going soft after what you just said.” Leo let you push your two fingers against his lips, puckering them. “We’ve talked about this; what did I say?”

“Killing is….it is,” 

“It’s wrong, Leo.” 

“Its.. wrong.” He whined, bringing your other hand to his chest. He didn’t want it to be wrong, he wanted you to let him run wild and do what he knew he needed to do--”

“Promise me, Leo.” You pulled your hand slightly away. “Promise me you won’t.. Hurt anyone. Okay?”

He went quiet, letting a small grunt out as you kept pulling away the longer he stayed quiet. 

“Say it.”

“Fine… okay.” He croaked. 

You went limp and let him hold you close to him, his face leaning close as he looked for your approval. 

“Kiss..?” He mumbled again, following where your head turned to catch your lips. 

“Only because you’re finally being good..” You let him grab your chin like a cat pawing at you, his other hand nestled into your hair. “But you really don’t deserve this, especially after toni--”

You were cut off with a hungry lick, Leo’s mouth twisting against yours as the mask bumped against your nose. He lifted it just a bit higher, concealing only half of his face as he leaned deeper into you. His mouth was as warm as usual, but you could feel his warn down jealousy still through the rush of his lips.You wondered if you should really be rewarding him now after all he tried to pull. 

 A guttural purr released from his throat when he broke free from your mouth with a huff, running his hand down your back. He tried to pull your hair out of your face with his free hand, leaning for another kiss. 

“Wait Leo,” You put a hand in front of your lips, the other out with your palm up. “Give it to me first.”

Leo let out a dramatic sigh. He sat for a moment, stubbornly waiting to see if you’d really push him or let it go. 

“Come on now,” You beckoned with your hand. 

Huffing with frustration, Leo took as slow as possible to pull the razor blade from his pants.

[anundyingfidelity]

WHAT IF...? — Soldier Boy/Ben (2)

Summary: Ben, now as your husband, gives up Vought for good and retires along with you far away from the spotlight and the big cities once you're pregnant with your first child. He knows better than to make the same mistakes his father did.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader

Word count: 900ish.

Warnings: none, soft Ben, OOC!Ben? idk, this is sweet.

GEN MASTERLIST! — DRABBLES MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

PART 2

1990

The way back home was tiring to say the least. You and Ben had a weekend shopping schedule. It wasn’t the best idea John had for a funny Saturday, but you could tell he enjoyed being at the mall. He was six already, full of energy, joy, and eager to discover the wonders of the world.

From the passenger seat you moved slightly just to check on your son. He was already snoring in the back seat, drooling and sleeping peacefully as if it was his own bed. The sight of him just made you smile.

“He had a great time, huh?” Ben asked, giving you a side glance. He got better at driving after you gave birth, which you were so thankful for.

“Yeah, I mean, he’d definitely pick a baseball game instead but this is good for him,” you said back. “He’s been at home too much, don’t you think?”

“Hey, it's school break! Do you really love your kid?” Ben teased with a playful smile, you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. All I mean is that I’d just like him to have friends and talk to other kids, do the normal kindergarten stuff… That’s all.”

Ben nodded more for himself. There have been a couple of weeks already, and he was more than happy to spend time with the little brat, but he got your point. You didn’t want him to be alone and the teacher at kindergarten had told both of you John was having some trouble with making friends and socializing in general. He was shy, but smart and creative, but even the teacher had some issues when talking to him at first. John wasn’t like that at home and it hurted you just a bit.

“Probably we should call Janine and some of the parents that were there in the last parent conference, you still have their numbers. We can do something for our kids to meet outside school,” you suggested.

“I think those moms were hitting on me,” your husband said, taking a last turn on the highway before heading home. He chuckled as low as he could when you patted his arm. You got pretty jealous at the last meeting when those ladies approached him, almost swooning. Even John’s teacher looked like she’d faint anytime. “What? I’m Soldier Boy anyway.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He parked the car outside your house after an hour of driving. There were some cons of living in the outskirts of the city, but as long as his family got the calm and green life around, driving for so long was not a problem.

You took John between your arms, careful of not waking him up. He weighed more and more each year, reminding you he wasn’t a baby anymore. He was taller, a good talker at least with you and Ben, he liked seeing the squirrels in the trees that surrounded the house, and he was very, very smart.

It felt like a day ago you gave birth to him, that he started babbling nonsense, and mere seconds that he started walking little baby steps… Now, his eyes were bright blue, his hair long and blonde, his cheeks sprinkled with freckles just like his dad…

Most of his factions were just like Ben’s mother, and she was beautiful from the old pictures he’d show you before. You were happy John was like an exact copy of her, you knew how much Ben loved her and how much her death hurted for him. John was like a reincarnation of her spirit, now sleeping in your arms.

Ben started to take out the grocery bags and some other stuff you had gotten yourself from the city, most of them puzzles, board games, and teddies John picked back there. As much as you tried to get him to reason to not buy unnecessary things, he would just spoil John a lot. But you understood why he did it. He was nothing like his father, he had time to learn how to be a better man, how to manage his own feelings and slowly, teach John to be a good man, even at his young age. You felt so proud of him, watching him discharge the bags on the kitchen counter with John clinging to you, deep in slumber, his little arms now wrapped around your neck to not let go.

When finished, Ben looked at you with a soft look on his eyes. You, holding his son, was a picture he’d never grown tired of. He would hit himself to confirm it wasn’t just a beautiful dream; it was real. You and John were very real, and he was thankful for giving up the superhero shit already. This could never compare to anything Vought offered to him before; what he built in there with you was everything he ever needed.

“I’m gonna take him to his room,” you mumbled, but before you could walk up the stairs, Ben approached you.

“I’ll do,” he announced in an equally low voice.

“You sure? I don’t want him to wake up-”

“John sleeps like a trunk, trust me,” Ben said, taking the kid softly away from your arms. John immediately wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck, hiding his face on the crook of his neck. He was so exhausted after the trip.

“Right,” you nodded. “Thanks, I love you.”

Ben gave you a charming smile, one that you never could grow tired of. He leaned down to kiss your lips softly, his new and trimmed beard tickling your skin a little.

“I’ll be here in a couple of minutes to help you,” he said.

You watched him disappear on the stairs to the second floor, John deeply sleeping in his strong arms, hugging each other.

Weekend trips like this were monotonous sometimes, but it was okay because you always came back home with your boys after all.

Soldier Boy taglist:

@delaynew @k-slla @thesilmarillionblog @onlyangel-444 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@daisy-the-quake @jackles010378 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-spinster-witch @drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2 @sapnaploves

@believeinthefireflies95 @demodemo909

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Good Father

Dad!Dean Winchester X Wife!Mom!Reader

Summary: Dean has a beautiful wife and the cutest little girl. The perfect family. Maybe it's time to have a real home, too.

Part 2 of A Good Man but can be read as a standalone. This is actually how supernatural ended thank you very much

Warnings: not much, candy cane fluff, foul language. Still minors dni cause I don't want minor on my blog

WC: 2.6k

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. Why not post it right? I love Dean with all my heart. That's nothing new. Enjoy the teeth rooting fluff cause I don't have the mental capacity to write smut rn :,)

Sleep still covered your eyes as you rubbed them softly. It couldn't have been later than six a.m., or at least what you saw through half-closed eyes on your phone screen when you woke up. You weren't fully sure, you were still processing that you were awake. You hadn't entirely wanted to get out of bed, but the lack of your husband's warmth all but forced you out of the comfort of your covers. Your feet took you to the study first. That's normally where you would find the brothers anyway. But you only saw Sam.

"Morning." You mumbled softly, running a hand over your face as you walked over to the younger Winchester.

Sam lifted his eyes from the ancient looking book in front of him, and he gave you a warm smile.

"Oh, hey, good morning."

You stood beside him, leaning a hand on the table as you looked around for Dean with a small frown.

"Where's your brother?"

"In the kitchen with Rosie. She woke up like an hour ago, so he's making her breakfast." He answered with a smile.

Your own lips irked up in pleasant surprise. Normally, Rosalie— yours and Dean's little girl— would come running to wake you— or both you and Dean, depending who was home at the time. You never minded that she would be up before you since Sam was always up before sunrise, and he loved spending time with his niece. But it did surprise you a bit that Dean didn't wake you at all this morning. Though, you were more so in awe at the fact that he had decided to take care of her that morning by himself.

Truth was, he had been gone a while, almost a week. That had been the longest he had spent on a hunt ever since she was born— five years ago. And your little girl was definitely missing her dad. She loved you, no doubt about it, but the little one was a daddy's girl for sure, but you blamed Dean for spoiling her so much. So she was feeling his absence greatly. She cried almost every night, asking why daddy wasn't there to tuck her in. It broke your heart a hundred times over to see her so heartbroken. When Dean came home last night, she all but clung to him, refusing to leave his side. And you guessed that had carried over to this morning.

"Thanks, Sam." You patted his shoulder and padded through the long halls of the bunker to the kitchen. You held in your breath as you peaked your head through the door and you nearly teared up at the sight.

"You think mommy and Sammy will like these?" Dean pursed his lips, nudging at the tiny human resting on his hip as three different pans with pancake batter, sizzling bacon and scrambled eggs cooked on the stove.

"Uh-huh. It looks yummy." She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her.

"Yeah, sure does." Dean shrugged, lips pulled into a proud grin at his own work. He always was a great cook.

He stood for a second, keeping an eye on one thing as he moved around another with a spatula and still somehow held a five year-old on his hip. He had his attention somewhere else, so he almost missed the tiny voice in his ear.

"I missed you, daddy." Rosie mumbled, her soft voice almost inaudible against him. Dean looked down at her, his eyes slightly big and his lips parted. He stared at her for a long second before he said anything. He was wondering just what the fuck he ever did to deserve something like this.

"I… I missed you too, baby. Always." He sighed out, his chest aching with an indescriptible feeling as he brushed some loose strands behind her ear, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

You were silent for a long minute, lips slightly parted and eyes filled with awe as you leaned against the doorframe to watch the sight in front of you. Dean, still in his pajamas, with his little girl on his hip as he cooked. He was saying something to her, or so you figured since you heard her giggles, her tiny hands bunched around his t-shirt as she buried her face in his shoulder. He was smiling too.

"I'm deeply hurt. Making breakfast without me?" You spoke up, feigning hurt.

Dean turned around, he smiled at you at first but when Rosie started giggling at you, hiding deeper into his chest, he gritted his teeth.

"Ah, busted. Told you mommy would find out." He shook his head, holding back a smile as you approached them.

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. He gave you a shrug with a toothy smile that showed the edges of his canines, and he gave you that innocent puppy dog look. You groaned out.

"We'll talk later." You warned, but your tone was playful. You finally slipped a smile as you stood on the tip of your toes to give Dean a kiss on the lips. He happily leaned down to meet you halfway. And then you kissed your little girl, leaving kisses all over her tiny face.

She giggled, nearly jumping out of her dad's arms into yours. Dean happily passed her over to you, his hip starting to get numb. You held her happily, pressing a kiss to the mess of her bedhead. God, the more this one grew, the more she looked like Dean. The same green eyes, the same freckled cheeks. But she had your nose, and her hair was a shade darker than Dean's, closer to Sam's brown. But you knew that she would be the spitting image of her dad when she grew older.

"Did you help daddy make breakfast?" You asked Rosie, and she nodded excitedly.

"Yeah! I helps daddy make pancakes." You gasped, lips parted to share her excitement.

"Those are gonna be the yummiest of pancakes, right sweetheart?" Dean leaned down, nudging her cheek with his finger. She nodded.

"Alright, little one, go sit with Sammy, we'll bring you out some pancakes, okay?" You told the little girl, and she nodded again, mumbling an 'okay'. You smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before you set her down her tiny feet. She had spent her whole short life in this bunker. You were sure she could find her way around the general area.

"Tell Sammy he's a nerd for me." Dean called out to Rosie as she ran off, chanting that her uncle Sammy was a nerd. Dean was smiling proudly to himself. He was raising her right.

"You're an ass." You playfully scolded him, and he gave you a look of feign innocence. He shrugged at you.

"I ever tell you how beautiful you look in the morning?" He irked his lips at you, resting his hands on your hips as he pulled you close. God he had missed you so fucking much.

"Missed you, too, hun." You leaned up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He tried to hide it, muffle the sound, but he winced when your hand touched his cheek.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you immediately pulled back to look at his face. You hadn't noticed the red bruise on his cheek, on the purple bruising around his eye. You gasped quietly, gently brushing the tip of your fingers over the bruised skin. He scrunched up his face at you, about to pull back, but you shot him a sharp look.

"I'm fine, baby. Just some bruises. You shoulda seen the other guy." He grinned, trying to humor you, but the concern didn't leave your face.

"I don't want to, actually." You sighed softly, your eyes falling to his chest, avoiding his eyes.

You wouldn't say it to his face, not actually. How could you? He never lied to you, from the moment he wanted something real with you he told you the truth. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into with him. Sammy and hunting come with the package— he told you. And you accepted it. All of it. You married him anyway. You gave him a daughter anyway. But God, it terrified you beyond words that he was still hunting. That he still left you and your little girl for days at a time. And that he would come home with new scars and bruises that would last days. But at times— like this one— you feared that neither of them would come home at all.

"Sweetheart…" There was a bit of warning in his voice. He could read you so easily. He grabbed your face, forcing your head up to look at him now. "What is it?"

"You worry me, Dean. Look at your face. I don't even want to know how it looks under your shirt." Your eyes fell to the side, and your chest filled with ache as you tried to say the right words. "I'm sorry, I know I have no right to guilt trip you. But your daughter missed you, I missed you, and we need you, Dean, that's all."

Dean said nothing at this, his face stayed unreadable as he listened to you. And he heard you, he heard you loud and clear. He felt pressure on his chest and a sick feeling to his stomach. Fuck, he had grown soft.

"C'mere." He pulled you to his chest. He rested his hand on your hair, and he sighed softly when you threw your arms around his torso. "You know I love you, and Rosie, so much, right?"

You nodded against his chest. "I know babe, I love you, too."

We need you, Dean.

"Daddy! I told uncle Sammy he's a— a nerd!" Rosie announced loudly when she saw you and Dean again. And you had to hide your smile at the pointed look Sam shot his older brother.

Dean played dumb, his lips falling open, and he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm telling ya, Sammy, I dunno where she learns it from."

"Yeah, great parenting dude." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, and he could only snort in response.

"Yeah, well, here's my apology." Dean shrugged, setting down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Sam with a shit eating smile. Sam pretended to be offended, but he ate the plate in front of him without protesting.

"Alright, Rosie, you wanna eat some pancakes before school?" You set the plate with the smaller portion of pancakes and bacon in front of her and she nodded happily.

"Yes, please!" She excitedly grabbed a fork and dug in, but stopped a second later and looked at Dean. "Daddy can I has syrup?"

"Sure, baby." He practically saturated her plate with syrup and then his own. You shook your head at how alike they were already. You shared a knowing look with Sam and sighed softly, eating from your own plate.

You didn't often have the chance to have breakfast as a family, so you always treasured little moments like this when you had them. And deep in your heart, you wished you had moments like this more.

~~~~~~

"Sweetheart, you in here?" Dean peeked his head into your shared bedroom, his eyes darting around for a few seconds, and then his lips curved up at the sight of you on your shared bed, face deep in your laptop.

"Hi love," You smiled at him, setting your laptop aside to greet him. He happily joined your side, his lips pressing a kiss to yours instantly. "You left Rosie at school, right?"

Your words were stern as was the look you gave him. He pulled back and pouted. You were definitely scolding him for the time he decided to take Rosalie on a drive with Baby just because she asked instead of dropping her off at school.

"'Course I did. No rides in Baby this time, I promise." He smiled at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Hope so." He saw you reach for your laptop again so he decided to speak again.

Dean thought about it. He thought about it all morning. He drove around town for another hour just to get his thoughts straight.

"Listen, I was thinkin' 'bout what you said this morning.."

You shook your head at him, "I'm sorry, Dean, I know I shouldn't have. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

"Hey, no, don't do that. Let's not forget about it." You frowned at him, but you didn't respond, so he kept talking. "You're right. I know you are. Hell, I got thrown around so hard, I don't know how I got outta bed this morning. I thought about you, thought about Rosie. Thought about my old man, too."

You frowned softly, resting your hand on the back of his neck, fingers threading through the short hair gently, "Dean.."

"I don't want to be like my old man. I don't want to leave you and Rosie alone anymore, I just can't."

You straightened up, a bit unsure where he was getting at.

"Dean, baby, what are you trying to say?"

"You and Rosie deserve a normal life, a house, all of that shit." Dean breathed out the words, and he held your face in his hands, a tiny smile on his lips. "I want to try it. A normal life. Don't you?"

"I… Dean.." You sighed out softly, attempting to process his words. You stared at him long and hard, and all you saw was love, his green eyes were sincere. "I wouldn't force you to give up hunting. I mean, that's all you've known? And what about Sam? I just—"

"That's exactly it. I'm… I'm so goddamn tired of the life. Don't get me wrong, we save people, hell, we've saved the world, but is that really all worth it if I can't come home to my wife and daughter?" He tilted his head, his free hand was on your thigh, and he squeezed softly. "And Sammy, I know he's tired of it too. He's always wanted a normal life. But he stayed because of me. If I get out, I know he'll do it, too. He's done it before. Who knows, maybe he can find his own pretty girl to marry and have a couple of kids with."

For the longest time, Dean had refused to even consider doing anything else with his life, doing anything better. This was all he had ever known, all he was ever actually good at, right? But lately, God, just lately, he was seeing that light at the end of the tunnel. You and Rosalie were right there. And if you were there with him, the rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Dean, I love you, I loved you then, hunter and all, and I will love you no matter what. But if you want to settle down.." You breathed out a soft laugh, the words sounding so nice when you said them out loud. You leaned closer to him, a smile on your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. "We'll settle down. A house, normal jobs, play dates, all of it."

"Christ, what did I ever do to deserve you in my life?" He smiled wide, and he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. It was warm, loving.

"Mhmm, so, what would a former hunter do for a living?"

"I'm pretty good with cars aren't I? What do you say? Think I should open my own car shop?"

Your husband as a mechanic? That wouldn't be half bad.

[bluesworldd]

PT1. Infunami !

↳ pairings: miles 42 x reader

↳ cw/tw: cursing, like 70% proofread, miles going through it, pet names: my love.

↳ genre: angst.

↳ synopsis: miles missed one too many dates and the truth comes out. poor miles

↳ blue says: lets just act like i didn’t disappear for a few months, thanks! enjoy

spoilers ahead !

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fuck

…fuckkkkk

10 missed calls…

miles rushed to get his suit off. fuck how many times has this been? he couldn’t help but think. five..? no five was to little… maybe 10? quickly he called the familiar number.

…ring

…ring

“please leave a-”

fuck. miles had no clue on how he was going to comeback from this one.. its been six months since the two of you started dating and within those six months miles had only took you on about twenty-five dates (yes he counted). now hear him out, 1. the two of you are teenagers and its not much two teenagers can do. 2. it would be way more if you considered cuddling together in your room as a “date”. look miles wasn’t proud of it ok? he s been busy with school and the prowler stuff so hes had a lot on his plate and trust, he does love you, more than you think, but its been a rough couple of months and he cant even remember the last time hes had over six hours of sleep. But fuck it, that was besides the point, now he had to focus on trying to not lose the person he loves….again

quickly he sent a text.

hey..im so sorry about tonight.

he checked the time…only 10:25, you should still be awake. miles knows that because your a bit of a night howl and just like him its hard for you to get sleep most nights…but for different reasons.

anyways.

idk if your still up but if you are just know im coming over.

fuck..im sorry seriously

just please text me back…

after a minute of nothing, in more suitable clothes, miles quickly ran out of his window and straight to you place. ok morales think… maybe a gift? no. miles knows you better, he tried to do that last time and he quickly realized he couldn’t buy your affection back. man that was a shitty three weeks, you had ignored him for a long time before he was at your door for hours begging to talk with him.

miles waited on the sidewalk before a cab stopped near him. getting in he was consumed by his thoughts. so what then? will they even buy the being at work bullshit again?

“kid where to!?” quickly snapping out of his thoughts miles told the cab drive your street address. only 10:33…fuck where did the time go? recently time for miles seemed to be slipping away and fast. never a slow moment to catch his breath or sit down and focus. that seemed to always be the case, especially after…anyways. maybe he could just tell the truth? he chuckled silently to himself. yeah..like thats a fucking option.

“where here” “oh yeah thanks” pulling his wallet out he handed the driver a twenty and a five. “just keep the change” exiting the car miles immediately headed for the back of your apartment where your fire escape was. he couldn’t bother going to your front door, after 6 p.m, no visitors, or rather no boyfriends were allowed in, specifically your mothers orders.

ok morales, just pray you don’t lose your relationships tonight, worry about the rest later. after climbing to the fourth floor he was meet with your window. please be open, please be open, please be- he lifted up the window.

thank god. miles made sure you weren’t in your room before climbing in. ok…now or never. going over towards your door miles knew this was risky. on the off-chance that you mother was up he would be really fucked. before he could open the door someone opened it first.

…miles let out a sigh of relief as he saw your face.

“what the-?!”

he quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the room, shutting the door behind him. “….fuck?” you let out a disappointed sigh. “miles..what are you doing here?” a trick question he knew that you knew he was here to apologize but he didn’t say that part out loud, being a smartass would get him nowhere. “look i am beyond sorry-” “yeah i know miles” damn he could hear the hurt in you voice. you had your back turned to him now, focusing on getting you vanity in order. “…if you allow me, i can make it up to you this weekend” “yeah, i know miles…” is that a yes or…? “so…what day do you want to-” “i can always trust that you’ll make it up to me miles but what after?” ok..what? “what do you mean my love?” sighing you turned around to face him again. you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes, quickly mumbling “why do i even bother”

“ok look miles ill um talk to you later ight? it’s getting late anyways” you made your was towards him trying to get to you door. miles stopped you. “fuck, look i know i fucked up but please dont shut me out” he went to grab your hand but you stepped back. yeah, im fucked. “just please hear me out…” “you’ve released ive been hearing you out four times this month right?!” you said, your tone slightly rising. “and im beyond grateful my love, seriously i am, but if you can just hear me out one more time i can explain” turning back around you went to sit down. “well the floors all yours morales” usually, in any other instance, petty comments like that would have pissed him off but he had no right to be upset as of this moment.

“right…ok, i was called in late today. my manager said it was important and i couldn’t just bail on him you know..?” you slightly chuckled. “even you don’t believe that miles” ok yeah thats fair. “just please let me make it up to you my love.” he took a small step towards you “i already said i know that you will” now he was just confused “yeah so what does that mean? you’re saying nothing and everything at the same time” “it means i know that you will make it up to me miles, you always do, but what about after?” “will anything change…?” you voice grew smaller. miles wanted to respond but practically couldn’t. the room was left silent before you spoke up again “right, if thats your final answer than i think you should just-” “no, no, no. i promise i can change, you just have to be…” you glared at him “right…look i couldn’t be more grateful to have you as mine and i seriously dont want to lose you, just please..”

…a silent pause filled the room.

“than tell me the truth” you replied quietly. another silent pause followed. miles couldn’t do that, or else he would definitely lose you. “i..i cant do that.” your face contorted in confusion with a bit of anger. “and why exactly cant you?” you two stared at each before you made up your own conclusions “i see, maybe your too busy entertaining someone else ?” you huffed out. bow it was time for miles to be confused. “what?? why would i-?” miles sighed “no of course not i would never and you know that!” “so than whats the problem miles?! why exactly can’t you tell me the truth?” your voice gradually got louder, your patience clearer at its end. “if i do than you’ll be upset with me, so upset that you’ll most definitely break up with me” miles said quietly, a slight wobble in his voice although it was still prominent enough for you to hear. now you couldn’t help but be concerned. miles rarely got emotional during intense fights between the two of you, thats not to say miles is emotionally unavailable, just that he always stayed cool under pressure and fights.

“miles i cant be more upset with you than i already am, plus im the one asking for the truth so i can’t be mad at you, no matter what it is” you were slowly walking up to him now. hoping to reinsure him. “ok…listen, i cant tell you the full truth but please know im being completely honest when i say that: most times when i cant make it to our dates its because of my work..” you two stared at each other, miles was unable to read your face, although if you asked him, you looked pretty conflicted. as if you were deciding if he was telling the truth or not. after a small pause you came to your conclusion. “you know what miles? if its so hard to just-“

“fuck, ok im the prowler does that help?!”

the room grew silent as before, neither of you uttering a single word.

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©️bluesworldd 2023 || All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, copy, or claim my work as your own.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! I've spent hours reading your Steddie stuff when I honestly should have been sleeping because work and adulting. Gotta be some of my favorite writing! You have requests/prompts open? I have 2! If you like them :) 1. The Soulmate idea of people having a moving animal tattoo representing their Soulmate. Steve has hyperactive bat who loves to drape itself around his neck quite possessively. Eddie with a retriever pup or something that likes to curl up over his heart. 2. Always a sweetheart Steve? No King Steve era thing. He bugs Eddie to learn about D&D to understand his kids better qnd our poor metal gremlin melts :) I'm Soft Boi, so sorry for no angst.

I'm posting the 1st one here, but on the second one, I am gonna just give a rec instead. Last Man Standing by @griefabyss69 (GriefAbyss on AO3) is kind of this request but taking it to filth level 😈 But anyways, this idea is so fucking cool my dudes. I love a good soulmate AU, and when it's something super unique like this, I lose my shit. I definitely think someone could make a slow burn with this idea and if anyone does, please let me know! - Mickala ❤️

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

He used to hate it.

A bat was such a menacing and disgusting creature.

Anyone who saw it would give him a look that was equal parts apologetic and concerned.

But when Steve started getting left alone at home, when he only had surface level friends, when he cried himself to sleep because the silence wasn’t enough to drown out the negative thoughts, the bat wrapped itself around his neck, and he didn’t feel so alone.

He’d started sleeping with his hand on his shoulder just to feel closer to his soulmate.

Hoped that whoever it was wouldn’t be disappointed that he was theirs.

————-

Eddie convinced himself for his entire childhood that the golden retriever tattoo that ran up and down his arms every day was some sympathy soulmate tattoo.

There was no way his soulmate was someone this hyper.

And then Wayne explained there was usually a story behind the tattoo, something more than just the personality or energy of a person.

At night, the retriever would pace across his chest, eventually settling right over his heart.

He wondered what his tattoo representation was.

He hoped it was a bat.

————-

“Dude, it’s not a big deal. Just show us!” Tommy yelled to Steve from the pool.

Steve had managed to hide it from his friends for so long.

He wasn’t ashamed necessarily, but he definitely didn’t need Tommy and Carol or any of the rest of the basketball team to see it.

The tattoo often stayed hidden pretty well during the day, usually hid on his thigh or stomach. He got away with always wearing shirts for practice and skipped post-practice showers with excuses that he had a study group to get to.

But his pool was a problem, especially now that he was at an age where everyone wanted to come over to swim when his parents weren’t around, which was often.

He tried to make excuses, said he was just worried about the sun, worried about a creepy neighbor watching.

It only worked a couple of times.

Now it was night, so no sun.

The neighbor was on vacation.

And everyone expected him to strip down and get into the pool.

So he did.

Everyone stared in silence as the bat flew from his stomach to his back and settled on his shoulder.

It seemed like it wanted to be seen, but still wasn’t sure how it wanted to be perceived.

Steve could relate.

No one commented on it, probably too afraid that one wrong word would get them kicked out of the pool permanently.

When he went to bed that night, the bat took its place around his neck, his hand rested in its place against his shoulder, and he sighed.

“I hope you’re being seen,” he whispered into his empty room.

——————-

The golden retriever was completely still for more than eight hours the same night Starcourt exploded.

Eddie tried not to panic for the first few hours, knew it could be any number of reasons the tattoo wasn’t moving.

But after hour six, he called Wayne at work, worry carrying over the line as fireworks boomed in the background.

“It’s not moving. It- you said when it stopped it meant- they can’t be, though.”

“Eds, take a few slow breaths, son. C’mon now, you’d have known if he-”

“But what if mine’s broken? What if the connection isn’t right?” Eddie tried taking breaths, but it wasn’t working.

The more he thought about it, the more likely it was that his soulmate was gone.

By the time Wayne made it home from work, the retriever had moved from his forearm to its usual place over his heart, and Eddie was fast asleep on the couch, his hand resting on top of it.

—--------------------

Being dragged into more freaky Upside Down shit was not on Steve’s to-do list. Then again, it never really was.

He wouldn’t have even bothered coming with Dustin and Max if not for the fact that Dustin was terrified something had happened to his new best friend Eddie.

He tried to hide his terrible mood, but knew he was failing.

He woke up this morning to his bat already on his leg, seemingly asleep, though it was normally still around his neck or on his shoulder when he woke up.

It hadn’t moved all morning, and he was a little worried about what that might mean.

He was also getting more worried by the day that he’d never meet his soulmate.

He knew it was dramatic, but most people he went to school with had met theirs by now, their tattoos now permanently placed in matching spots on their bodies.

“Dustin, this is so stupid,” he reiterated for the hundredth time as they walked up to the boathouse door.

He kept thinking it to himself as they poked around looking for Eddie, as he was being held against the wall with a broken bottle to his neck by Eddie, as he felt a flutter in his stomach at the way Eddie was watching him as they told him about the Upside Down.

He didn’t take the time over the next couple of days to pay much attention to his tattoo, didn’t really consider the fact that what little time he slept, he was so out of it he didn’t even notice whether the bat was on his neck or not.

Didn’t think about it until a moment in the RV alone with Eddie, when something in his brain told him to check on the bat.

“Sorry, just. Can you wait one second?” Steve interrupted Eddie’s thought as kindly as he could.

“Uh, yeah?” Eddie responded, confused.

He slipped to the back, not bothering to close the curtain that separated it from the rest of the RV.

He lifted his shirt in hopes of seeing it, but it wasn’t there.

He groaned and unbuttoned his jeans, rushing to just check and see if the bat had moved at all.

He shoved his jeans down and frowned.

It was in the same place still.

On his inner thigh on his right leg.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, or what he thought was under his breath.

“Everything okay?” Eddie’s voice was much closer than he expected, making him jump and rush to pull his pants back up. “Shit, was that your tattoo?”

“Yeah. It hasn’t moved in a while.”

“Neither has mine.” Eddie moved in closer. “Actually, mine’s on my thigh too. Kinda makes it hard to check.”

“Which thigh?” Steve couldn’t help asking.

“Right.”

“What is it?”

“Golden retriever. Can’t really imagine who it would be,” he admitted.

Steve’s first and only pet had been a puppy. A golden retriever named Daisy.

She was his entire world for almost a year until she chewed on one of his dad’s expensive watches and ended up being given to a man who worked with him.

He cried for days after that, didn’t talk to his dad for weeks, not that that was difficult to do since he was gone more often than not.

He vowed that he would get another one the moment he was an adult.

That didn’t quite work out.

But his nannies all used to call him a retriever, his energy contagious in the best way, his playful demeanor a relief. As he grew up, it got dulled by his parents, expectations, society, but he knew inside, all of that was still there.

“What’s yours?” Eddie asked, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“A bat.”

Eddie tilted his head and looked at him, eyes squinting to take him in.

“A bat?”

“Yeah. He’s a playful guy, but kinda shy it seems like,” Steve’s smile was fond until it was sad. “At least until he stopped moving.”

“When did he stop moving?” Eddie ignored the fact that it was a he for now.

“I guess I noticed it the day we found you in the boathouse.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, possibly coming to similar conclusions.

“What about yours?” Steve asked quietly, though something told Eddie he already knew the answer.

“The day you found me in the boathouse.”

“I-”

“How-”

“Dingus, we gotta go!” Robin was suddenly yelling as the RV door slammed open.

They could figure this out later.

They would have to.

—-----------------------

As Steve sat by Eddie’s bedside in the hospital, he thought about how often the bat tattoo had been the only comfort he had, the only thing that kept him from being completely alone.

He thought about how Eddie had always done his best to include the people who didn’t belong anywhere else, how he’d put on a show to protect himself, but hated being seen.

Wayne watched him from the other side of the bed, silently judging him, probably trying to figure out how to kick him out.

But he couldn’t.

He felt the pull now.

Now that he’d been around Eddie, somewhat gotten to know him, how he was fearless when it came to the gremlins, was willing to give up his own life if it meant getting Dustin to safety, he could feel the tug on his heart.

It was inconvenient since they didn’t know when or really even if Eddie would wake up.

So he waited.

He waited for Wayne to kick him out. He waited for doctors and nurses to have answers. He waited for Eddie to wake up.

He waited to know if he’d be able to have his soulmate or not.

—-------------------

Eddie’s first word when he woke up was Steve’s name.

Steve let out an uncontrollable sob, curling down so his head rested in the sheets of the bed.

Wayne’s hand was on his back, his voice trying to speak to him and Eddie at the same time.

They’d gotten closer over the last few days, Wayne’s calm presence enough to keep Steve from completely losing his mind with worry.

But the pain meds in the IV drip seemed to catch back up to Eddie within minutes and he was asleep again.

“He woke up though. Your boy woke up,” Wayne said to him, holding his hand.

“Yeah. He did.”

—-------------------

When Eddie left the hospital, Steve insisted on pushing his wheelchair to Wayne’s truck himself.

The nurse agreed with little argument; The hospital was incredibly understaffed and overrun with patients from the “earthquake” and she had a million better things to do.

The walk down was mostly quiet, but not awkward.

“I think some of my tattoo is missing,” Eddie finally said, barely more than a whisper.

“From the bats?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Doesn’t change anything.”

“No?” he asked, voice full of hope.

“Not a thing for me.”

—------------------------

They dated.

It was unconventional in every way.

Steve had never pictured himself with a man, but now he couldn’t picture himself with anyone but Eddie.

Eddie had to explain that they couldn’t just go out and hold hands like any of Steve’s other dates, they had to be careful.

It wasn’t always easy; Steve got frustrated and Eddie got insecure.

But they always ended their nights with soft kisses, with whispered words of comfort and promises.

They fell in love like that, the tattoos only the beginning of something that no one could have expected.

[jevilowo]

TEAM ASCENDED FORTRESS 2

An AU by me in which the mercs ascend to their ultimate forms

Oh God tumblr wrecked the quality-

More about the AU under the cut!

WOKE SCOUT: she started taking estrogen and instead of fixing her it made her worse. She gets into fights on twitter about neopronouns and has successfully cancelled everyone she doesn't like at least once. However, as cancel culture isn't real, this only lasted about three seconds for each. She managed to pull Ms Pauling also which is pretty cool.

SOLDIERSUNE MIKU: the ghost of Shakespearicles told him to dress as Miku and redo the salem witch trials. Only knowing one witch (Merasmus), he finished this quickly and now roams the country with Zhanna (who is now Zhannagane Miku after Mikus metal counterpart) spreading malice and wonder through the power of AMERICAN SONG COVERS. He uses a wig for the Miku effect, but is working on growing his hair out also.

MITOSIS: Pyro and Engie were shagging one time and they came so hard they did mitosis. Now theres 23 babey Pyros (count em) and Engineer is a single dad. There's a lot of Pyro Mitosis Lore™ in my head, but the basics are that they evolve into either humanoid, beastial, demonic or celestial Pyros eventually.

TAVISH, KING OF THE LOCH NESS: he did it he blew up that bloody sea monster and now he is king of Loch Ness. The self loathing has died down a lot which is great for him but his body is still a scrumpty distillery which is eh. Still, he has funky water powers and his partners Soldiersune and Zhannagane come to visit often.

KEEPER OF TIME AND SPACE GUY: Heavy was mad, he knew he'd been had so he shot at the sun with a gun. Instead of being a show off like that bitch Juno, he had a nice philosophical conversation and chess match with Time and impressed Time so much he was appointed as the guardian of Time and Time's partner, Space. His guns (the six angel thingies pictured) can turn into celestial weapons which helps in the protecting but people don't shoot at the sun so often so its a relaxing enough gig really.

GODDAMMIT ENGIE: after realising how much more efficient Gunslinger was than a lame ass human hand, Engie succumbed to his hubris and eventually replaced all his body parts with robot parts. Including his dick which led to the Mitosis Incident. Anyway. His chest is a dispenser which makes projects pretty convenient and he has a mini-sentry attached to each arm and leg, making him a walking weapon. This did not help with the god complex, but it helps with the single father thing.

THE INFERNAL DOCTOR: Medic kept attaching more souls to his own and selling them to Satan for power. Satan got so sick of this eventually he attempted to beat the shit out of Medic. By now Medic was slightly more powerful than Satan so this ended with Medic absorbing Satan's powers and basically taking his place. Somehow, his relationship with the guy who is now a celestial being was unaffected by this. If they really tried they could probably ascend even further. To godhood, perhaps. In any case, Medic becoming The Devil from The Bible did nothing for the god complex.

???: Sniper just kind of fucked off into the woods one day god knows what happened to him but Scout's convinced she saw him for like three seconds a week ago and "YOU GUYS HE HAD ANTLERS I SWEAR-"

RETIRED AND BECAME A FUNCTIONING MEMBER OF SOCIETY SPY: yeah. He's very happy with Scout's Mother (Maureen), and he's letting his roots grow out (his spy agency made him dye his hair black). He's even making an effort to be a good parent to Scout, bought her the trans flag ipad cover and everything, but she just keeps trying to cancel him. Maureen's sure they'll work it out between themselves eventually, but until then she has to keep finding more secure hiding places for the ipad (the best so far was the time she buried it under a tree a mile away, took Scout at least four hours to find and retrieve it that time)

There's also YURI MS PAULING, in which she pulled a whole polycule of beautiful women, but I'll cover her in another post.

Also TERFS DNI please. Woke Scout is just Scout being Scout (which is to say a bit stupid), and assuming all trans women are like that would be ridiculous. So fuck off.

[thetruthwilloutsworld]

Instagram duncan.lacroix

I did a thing. Way back in May I had a health check that wasn't great. I'd let things slide fitness wise and was feeling pretty low. So I signed up for a Hyrox event that @grahammctavish had told me about. It seemed and impossible task at the time. It's an event that goes like this: "HYROX includes a mix of eight 1km runs alternating with eight different workouts. The individual stations are: (1) SkiErg, (2) Sled Push, (3) Sled Pull, (4) Burpee Broad Jumps, (5) Rowing, (6) Farmers Carry, (7) Sandbag Lunges, and (8) Wall Balls. The running course will lead around the workout stations."

I could barely run 1 k at the time and my mobility was terrible. So with the help of the mighty @valbo00 who has trained me for the last six months I completed my first full run through of it today. It took me 3 hours and I wanted to quit halfway through but I channeled my inner Murtagh and got it done. I know this is long winded and pretty vain but I wanted to share to show that if a good for nothing bum like me can turn things around then so can anyone. If you haven't heard of @samheughan and @valbo00 's @mypeakchallenge programme then check it out. I'll be competing in the Glasgow @hyroxworld next March for charity so I'll keep you posted about that.

Anyway thanks for reading! Carry on! x #hyroxtraining #hyrox #mypeakchallenge

Posted 20 December 2024

Well done Uncle Duncan 👏

[honeysickledream]

'Overgrown'| Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader | Chapter Six

[photo cred: me | dividers by: @/saradika-graphics]

tags: Medieval/Middle Ages-ish AU, lots of fluff, some past family hurts / a sprinkle of angst, everyone is healing slowly, domesticity, moving and future planning

w/c: 1.4k

a/n: no spice, mainly driven by the apartment and job hunting i've started doing this past month or so. holy shit life's been a bitch and this has taken me a month and some change to write, but i wrote it anyways. hope y'all enjoy (i'm gonna go study for my last exam of the season)

Chap 1. | Chap 2. | Chap 3. | Chap 4. | Chap 5. || AO3

“He moved away,” you remembered Simon telling you, “right after the old man passed. Tommy took his wife and little Joseph and left a few hours later. They’d been plannin’ the move for ages, ever since our father got ill, but they never told me. Woke up the next day and…they were gone. Thought they’d gone to the lake a few miles east, so I checked there but no one had seen ‘em. Tavern wasn’t open, the inn’s ledger didn’t have their names or Tommy’s pseudonym. A week later, I got a letter from ‘im. Livin’ close to London, new life and no specters loomin’ over them. Joseph was sleepin’ well, Beth could finally relax her shoulders, and Tommy’d taken up apprenticin’ with a blacksmith like he’d always wanted to do. No invitation to join ‘em, to even visit ‘em. Haven’t seen ‘em since—Joseph’s probably…he’s probably a man now, nearly twenty? Wouldn’t recognize me even if I had a sign around my neck listin’ our memories together.”

You watched as Simon brought the last of his clothes to the wash basin you were bent over. He’d decided that all linens from the larger bedroom needed to be washed thoroughly before they even caught a glimpse of your bedroom—which was now his, too. Every time he walked out of the old room, he wore a grimace and shuddered as if something cold passed through him. The specters of his past did, you supposed. Even you couldn’t enter the main bedroom without feeling a crushing weight on your shoulders.

Though he didn’t bring it up, you knew he was wondering if you’d given thought to moving out of the cabin and into town. To your credit, you were thinking about it, perhaps too much. How much it would cost, the physical and emotional labor of the move, and the changes to routines it would bring kept you awake at night and distracted you while you cleaned. You had a lovely scar forming on your palm from when your thoughts wandered too far while you were slicing apples to have with dessert.

You knew you wanted to move, for him mainly. You wanted the man you loved—even if you hadn’t said it outright yet—to sleep through the night and be unburdened. But there was information you needed, the security of knowing there was a solid plan and a handful of contingencies to support it, before you could jump into something so large. So, when he sat across the wash basin from you to sort through the sopping heap of clean clothes, you told him as much. He listened well, something you loved about him, and agreed with you on everything but the timing. Sooner, rather than later, was the request he firmly refused to change. You made it perfectly clear to him that if he wanted to live somewhere else soon, there could be no buying of the first available house. That the ‘somewhere else’ couldn’t be rundown or have suspicious airs about it. That earned a laugh from him that had your skin warming and your heart clenching.

“Price and ‘is wife have offered me a position at their tavern when we find a house we like. I’d be workin’ nights, mainly keepin’ an eye on patrons and stoppin’ any fights, and it would give me time during the day to set up the house,” Simon told you as he climbed into bed, freshly bathed and thoroughly exhausted from his day of looking at the few available homes in town.

You rolled to face him. Guilt lingered in your mind, he’d been doing all the looking while you tended to your patients and worked on packing things in the cabin for the eventual move. No matter how many times he told you to not feel guilt, your mind did the opposite and piled more of the sickening feeling on you. “And have you found a house?”

“There’s one I’m keen on. Two streets down from that bakery ya love and close enough to the town square that runnin’ to market or goin’ to see your patients won’t be a hike-and-a-half.” He traced your cheek with the back of his finger. “When ya go on your rounds tomorrow, I’ll come with. We can see it together, maybe see some others.”

“And there’s no issue with cost?”

That lop-sided grin that fixed the world even on the worst of days appeared. “My love,” Simon gave the tip of your nose a peck, “money’ll never be an issue for us. My father was many things—many horrible things—but one of the few positives about him was his money sense. He made a big show about gamblin’, drinkin’, whorin’ even, but he saved where he could—where it counted. The only thing I got from him that I like is that.”

“It’s a good trait.” You rolled the rest of the way, lying mostly on top of him. These days his body was always warm, and the harder edges were softening here and there. “Your warmth is another one. No fire could compare to this comfort.”

He hummed and began trailing the tips of his fingers along your spine. The sweet touch sent pleasant shivers throughout your body and you snuggled into him further. “You’re the cause of my warmth. Feedin’ me all that good food, makin’ sure I always have enough. I like it.”

You gave a simple ‘mhm’ and let your eyes fall shut. Simon only woke up once that night from a bad dream and, when he managed to bring himself fully into reality, fell asleep quickly to your musing about a possible life in town. He was healing, on his own and with your help. He showed you it was possible even if it wasn’t easy.

Just the outside appearance of the house he was keen on showed you why. Dark stone and wood exterior with textured glass windows and pretty shutters. The front door was heavy and the locks were new—Simon cited that as one of his favorite things since it meant you were more likely to be safe if someone tried to intrude. You had no complaints about the first floor, save for the dust but it wouldn’t take you more than half a day to get rid of it with Simon’s help.

The kitchen was spacious and the larder was nearly twice the size of one in the cabin. There was a proper dining room, too, and you couldn’t help but imagine all the meals and conversations that would be possible. Hosting Simon’s friends, the few apprentice midwives, even your siblings and their newish families, would be easy in terms of space. There’d be no need to worry about people nearly sitting on top of others or feeling crowded and uncomfortable.

Your favorite room, so far, was the parlor. It had a large fireplace, room for more than just an arm chair and modest settee. The walls had enough room for bookshelves and a trunk or two full of your knitting and embroidery materials. Given all the room, you’d be able to teach Simon a simple dance or two to do at festivals and there’d be plenty of room for your nieces and nephews to run around and cause havoc. The upstairs was nice, too, and spacious as well. Three bedrooms, one of which could be made into a study or some kind of workshop while. The second largest bedroom would be reserved for guests and if your sleep schedule fell out of line with Simon’s.

Muscled arms wrapped around you, tugging you back against Simon’s front and away from all your planning. “Like it?” he asked.

“Mhm. It’s pretty, nice location in town like you mentioned, and it doesn’t seem like it would be a nightmare to keep clean if we both tackle the chores like we’ve been doing,” you said. “I think we should make it ours.”

He dragged you towards the front door, throwing it up and holding you tightly in the doorway. Neither of you seemed to care much that a few people stopped to see the sight as Simon pressed his lips sweetly and softly to yours, a blessing of sorts for the future. By the end of the week, you and Simon were proud new owners of a beautiful home and a truly brand new start.

[fallenwhumpee]

Back

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Masterlist •

Warnings: inexplicit injury, strangling, military settings.

Leader pulled their legs up, trying to fit into the narrow gap of the bus seat. They hugged their bag, not really liking the fact that it restricted their movements, but also refusing to keep it out of their range. They just wanted to leave before someone changed their mind and sent them back.

The bus filled slowly as Leader sat still. Their muscles tensed quite a little when someone sat next to them, but they covered it as if they were just fixing their position. They wondered if they could ever get used to civilian life after everything. They sighed and relaxed all their muscles, letting go of the tenderness and hoping that it would help with occasional tremors. 

When the bus's engine shook the whole vehicle, Leader let their head drop to their bag, their worn-down body begging for their mind to shut down. But as always, they were thinking too much, and it was impossible to sleep with strangers around. They simply kept staring around, trying to ease their suspicion.

Within the first hour on the bus, the majority of passengers fell asleep. Leader wished they were among that crowd, but they never got what they wanted. The seat in front of them leaned back not long after, cramping the small space even more. With a silent curse, they stretched their arms at least, beginning to feel sore already.

They thought that things couldn't get any worse. They were wrong.

After six hours of misery, the bus pulled over absurdly. Leader would hit their head if they weren't so squished to their place.

"Routine control, everyone out," an officer barked through the doors. Leader didn't move immediately, waiting until everyone had gone out and made their way to the officer who looked like they were in charge.

Leader took out their military ID, hoping it would get them a softer approach.

"That's not going to clear you," the officer muttered.

"I only wish to be searched in private," Leader replied. They knew their badge would clear them, but they didn't have the energy to do so. "If that's not much trouble, of course. I don't want to scare people because..." Leader opened their bag slightly, revealing the handle of their gun.

The officer eyed Leader warily before nodding. "Follow me," they said, directing Leader to the back of the police car.

Leader followed silently, gripping their bag tighter as they reached for their wallet to prepare their licence along with their badge marking them as a captain, even though the officer didn't spare a glance at it. The cool night air and the distant murmur of other passengers being searched filled the silence between them.

The officer took the paper as if they were ripping it. Leader was getting a bad feeling, but they didn't want to cause trouble. They were too tired for it anyway. With a sigh, they leaned on the car slightly, trying to get the weight off of their right side.

The officer eyed them, scoffing and muttering something about respect under their breath. They inspected the documents closely, his eyes narrowing as he read the details. "You've been discharged recently?"

"Yes," Leader answered, shortly and perhaps unnecessarily cold.

"Annual leave?"

"Medical leave. I shouldn't be on my feet for too long," Leader almost snarled. The officer - probably didn't notice or just ignored - simply pointed the bag. Leader complied, even if it was the last thing they wanted. They simply looked away, realising that they were truly nowhere. Their eyes were yet to adjust to the lights changing, and the flashers weren't helping, but there was nothing around.

Because that person standing in the middle of the road was just their weary mind playing tricks.

They turned back when the figure dissolved into the air.

The officer searched with such passion that Leader suspected that they had a personal vendetta against the military. Finally, the officer dropped their bag on the bonnet. "Everything seems to be in order. Pack your stuff inside the car."

Leader frowned. "Here will suffice. I'm not getting into the car if you're not arresting me."

"Just get in; I don't want to draw a gun against a soldier, and you seem decent enough to avoid trouble."

Why couldn't they have a peaceful day?

Leader sighed. There was no point in resisting. They quickly tucked everything back in their bag and got into the car. "At least tell me where we are going," they muttered, not bothering with the facade any longer. They were just as annoyed as the officer.

"The military base around here was adamant about receiving you."

Perfect, Leader didn't say. "Routine control my ass," they muttered instead, not able to stop it.

"I am not fit for duty," they informed the officer. Leader didn't think they would ever be, but self-pity wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"Not my problem. Tell that to your people."

Leader sighed quietly - again, they were beginning to develop it as a habit now, much to their annoyance - as they settled into the uncomfortable seat of the police car.

The journey to the military base was silent except for the occasional radio chatter from the officer's walkie-talkie. Leader busied themselves with memorising the names and following the sequence, and surprisingly, they found that they enjoyed listening to some cops trying to catch an amateur thief.

When the car stopped, the officer didn't say anything, but the door lock opened. Leader got out quickly and kept their bag in their hand. It was hard to see somewhere so bustling again. They felt like their mind was tugged with needles from every direction. They cursed their senses not for the first time, and watched as the police car left without a warning. 

Leader's shoulders tensed out of their control. They quickly walked to the base, showing their ID to the security. A private escorted them inside, no words exchanged. They were led to an interrogation room, which explained so little but confirmed Leader's worries.

Leader was ushered in without a word. They sat in one of the two chair - to the further one from the door as a sign of trust and acknowledgement of authority - and read the files before them. Their breath caught on their throat when they got to the second, however. 

Medic, missing in action.

The team was disbanded. How could...

They flipped the page. They wished they didn't. 

"I was going to ask you about that."

Leader flinched. "Major," they greeted with a rushed salute.

And nothing after that happened in a blink. Leader saw Major walking over them with a hostile face. They saw the hand rising and the leg swiping their foot. They saw the other hand starting to move to their stomach.

If the attack is coming from a friend, don't resist. 

Just like that. They didn't resist as they were slammed to the floor, their superior on their throat. Leader struggled to breathe as the punch shook their empty stomach, their hands grabbing the hand keeping them down, even though they were not doing anything to stop it.

"Why is your teammate kidnapping your medic?"

What?

"Don't look at me like that. What do you know?"

A punch to their face pulled them from the shock. 

"I don't know," Leader forced out. 

The hand around their throat tightened—

For once, they wanted to give in to the tempting anger. It would be so easy, so easy to crush the arms holding them, but their wishes never ruled over the will.

They were let go. Major offered them a hand, and Leader accepted it without a second thought.

"I didn't realise that their teachings went that deep. You could easily save yourself. I doubt this base can keep you in."

Leader doubted that too, especially when their restraints were getting loose every moment.

"Some things go deeper than simple teachings," Leader answered after realising that they had drifted for a moment. They pulled the chair and sat down, sighing to release some of the built tension.

"They made you from fine stuff. Now, any idea why one of your teammates went rouge and kidnapped the other?"

Leader's hand began to tremble. It was the worst possible time. They hid their hand with the other rather clumsily, drawing attention.

"Why do you run away from the only place that can fix you?"

"If I'm called back only for these questions, I wish to continue my leave," Leader bit back a harsher response. They would never walk back to the place that had broken them in the first place.

"No. Your leave ends before it starts. I want you back on your team— at least what left of it."

[caustinen]

Hollywood!AU :)

Bucky is on location filming in another country and, for one reason and another, they can't see each other for almost six weeks (which is the longest they've been apart).

How do they handle the separation and what was the reunion like? ;)

OOOOH I LOVE THIS!!! i’m gonna do a proper drabble for this too but i’ll post the headcanons now, sorry it took so long!! nsfw in the end 🥰

This would take place between them going public and getting married, the last project Bucky has before they both take a longer vacation for honeymoon (also referenced in the leaked pda video)

He films in Australia for 4 weeks and in London for 2, both pretty horrible for staying in touch because rhe time differnece is so big and they also have intense schedules in their respective time zones… And the change in time zones when Bucky moves places also make it more intense than usually, for example if Bucky would be filming just in another state it would be easier

Gale is also busy at work because he’ll take a full month of vacation in the fall after the wedding, so he can’t come visit in either place – they reason that it’s okay if they have some time apart, they’ll have the rest of their lives together after that and they’ve never been a clingy couple despite both valuing quality time over anything (and esp to Bucky also physical touch is key); maybe it’s even a welcome idea to have a breather after all the media attention after going public, it’s not a big fight or anything but it’s something different for a while

They do not expect it to be as hard as it ends up being; week or two is easy, but a month feels like forever and the last two weeks both are feeling so off-beat that they decide they will meet up in some vacation spot instead of Bucky coming home to LA because they just need some peace and quiet together for a while – the publicly is still at the peak interest too and they know there will be media after Bucky a lot too after weeks away so this seems like the best idea

They try to call as often as possible and text daily. At first it’s fine but the longer they go without the other near the more frustrating it becomes to just have the phone, like it’s amazing to be able to facetime and such but some nights Bucky would almost rather not see his beautiful boyfriend’s face at all when he can’t crawl next to him to fall asleep

Bucky would be so annoying about the whole thing, like I’m thinking non-stop whining, and Gale lets him go on and on about it as if he wasn’t feeling the same things because he knows it’s just his way of processing it.

Bucky never gives up on initiating phone sex though, which Gale also enjoys but it also makes him more nervous than John, and also during John’s evenings it’s Gale’s mid-day so it usually goes something like ”Hey honey how was filming?” ”We were filming that interigation scene for hours, it was fine, I thought about having you bounce on my cock on that table the whole time.” ”...I’m at work.” ”Yes of course dear. Anyway, could you find a quiet place and send me a voice note of your moaning my name I’m literally about to lose my mind.” ”Jesus-”

But actually it’s Gale who struggles most in the end to his great surprise, Bucky at least can lose himself in his work but Gale’s just living the usual routine but without John there (makes him realize what he means to him tho, as if he needed a reminder) – Gale’s always been hyper independent and still is, but he realizes better than ever how much more open to the world Bucky has made him and how lonely he sometimes was before him without really realizing. Watching films or going to the gym isn’t as fun without Bucky’s constant commenting.

But then again Gale has all of Bucky’s clothes to wear and his stuff that smells like him lying around, Bucky just has pictures etc.

There are some tensions in the middle of it, when it feels like the 6 weeks will never end; maybe John had a bad day at the set or Gale’s been stressed about finishing a certain project while also planning the wedding while also dodging the paparazzi while also … And they snap at each other on the phone and it’s not as easy to deal with when the only way to talk it through is on the phone again, no chance for a cathartic make-up sex or silent communication to break the ice. Bucky’s insecure since he left Gale into such a shitty situation with the public while he’s away, and Gale can’t help but feel a bit jealous as he keeps hearing about John having a great time with his co-workers and going to pubs and living a full life without him in it.

Once the time of the reunion nears, the anxiety starts to ease. they make plans to meet in Milan; Gale gets there a day sooner because Bucky’s plane is cancelled or something and Gale ends up going meeting him at the airport instead of their original plan of meeting away from the cameras in the hotel. This is the first time this is a possibility since they are public, but Gale still covers himself well – he has a facemask and huge hoodie and loose sweats he never would show up to in public otherwise (all the clothes happen to be originally Bucky’s but it’s a genuine accident, they are just the ones that felt the most comfortable)

Once Bucky comes through he runs to him and they have a cheesy airport reunion moment where they just hug in the terminal for like ten minutes, just holding the other close. Lover-boy Bucky would have tears in his eyes as he sniffs into Gale’s neck as the younger runs a calming hand up and down his back. No one pays them any mind, they go smoothly to the crowd there. Bucky bought Gale a big bouquet of red roses before boarding and he’s been clinging to them the whole flight and now he gets to press them to Buck’s back before giving them to him.

Bucky notices Gale has lost weight as they hug :( He sometimes struggles to take care of himself when he’s stressed, it’s not much but he knows his body better than his own and he immediately makes plans to check out the best restaurants in town for the whole week.

They behave themselves in the cab but the moment they get to the hotel penthouse John had reserved for them they’re on each other, absolutely wild with it; they’re adult men in a long-term relationship but the one thing phones or even intimate videos or pictures can’t replace is the actual feeling of someone’s skin underneath your fingers.

Gale moans as John throws him to the wall and they kiss so hard it’s almost painful, and Gale involuntarily laughs in relief when he finally gets a hand to his pants— Who said that I’ll get back to this later

Hope you liked, promise I’ll write a drabble when I have time 🥰 (All of Hollywood Au at the end of this post)

[iloveelvisss]

Little Sister Pt. 2

1957-

Four years had passed since Elvis had kissed you.

Shortly after, you started a secret relationship, not knowing how everyone would react. Only recently had you revealed yourselves to your families. Everyone seemed to be okay with it.. except Mary.

You were now sat with Elvis in his bedroom at Graceland, comforting him as he reread his draft notice for the sixth time. Tears were staining both of your cheeks. You didn't want him to leave, couldn't bear the idea of life here without him. He didn't want to go either, his whole life was here, you were here.

But he went on anyway. You clung to him the day he left, refusing to let him go.

He had spent maybe two weeks at boot camp when Gladys passed. Elvis came rushing home almost immediately. For three days straight he held onto you, crying. Then he was abruptly pulled back to finish his six weeks of boot camp, before being shipped off to Germany for two years. You stayed true to him out of all of it though, holding onto the promise he gave you before his departure, "wait for me, 'little'. I'll come back for ya."

And for a while he kept that promise. You received letters from him weekly, each expressing how dearly he loved and missed you. He would send little trinkets and call you every chance he got. But then those phone calls became fewer, along with the letters and trinkets.

At first you played it off by convincing yourself that he was busy, and that he would make it up to you when he had time. Eventually though, it stopped completely, and you were devastated.

You waited for him, hoping for any sign from him, but after weeks and weeks of nothing you couldn't stand it anymore.

A year passed since he left and you had gotten a job as a makeup artist. You worked on the set of a couple movies.

**

Somewhere along the way, you remembered that your ex boyfriend Charlie lived in Los Angeles. You managed to get ahold of him.

You were now sat waiting in a little restaurant. When Charlie walked in you instantly recognized him. He had grown a lot since the last time you saw him.

You stood up as he walked in your direction, waving him over. "Charlie, hi! How are you?" You asked. He scanned your figure, meeting your eyes. "Wow, Y/N, it's so good to see ya. I'm doing well now, and you?" He reached out to pull you into a hug. He smelled nice.

Then you two talked for hours. You told him about your job and asked about his. He listened intently as you caught him up on your life, his face always adorned with a smile, it was refreshing. He was the first real friend you had in L.A.

"So you really dated Elvis?" He asked, sounding like a genuine question. You nodded, trying to ignore how your heart tugged at the sound of his name. "Wow, I remember him always being around when we were together back then. Doesn't surprise me that you two became something." Charlie said.

You stared at your empty plate, "It surprised me. I was always just a little sister to him," you paused as you chuckled. "He called me his 'little' ever since he met me." You mumbled, looking back up.

"I mean he was always very protective, like I said, but it was in a different way." Charlie averted his eyes as he looked deep in thought about something. "Like this one time when you and I first started going steady, Elvis was at your place, and he took me aside and made me promise that I'd always be good to you. Said that if I ever hurt you that he wouldn't let me see another day."

Charlie's words shocked you a bit. Before that afternoon in the ice cream shop, it had never even crossed your mind that Elvis had any feelings for you, except for the type that a big brother would.

You forced yourself to push it aside. Elvis was gone, he obviously didn't want anything to do with you now, so why should you waste your time with thoughts about him?

Charlie offered to drive you home. His physical appearance might've changed but he was still the same sweet boy you fell for all those years ago.

With the promise of another date, he dropped you off.

For the first time in almost a year you fell asleep excited for the day ahead. Weeks passed with you getting closer and closer to Charlie. He would swing by whatever movie you were working on and visit you on set, and he would take you out to dinner every chance he got. It didn't surprise you when he got down on one knee after the third month of going steady with you. You smiled as you said yes, feeling confused when he picked you up and Elvis's face flashed in your mind.

You called your parents that night. "Momma, daddy, I got something to tell you," you tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I'm gettin married!" You exclaimed while you stared at the rock resting on your finger. They seemed just as elated, congratulating you repeatedly.

"What's going on?" Mary's voice came from somewhere in the background of the call. "Your sister is engaged! Isn't it wonderful?" Your momma replied for you. "Oh, isn't that grand? Can I talk to her?" Mary asked.

You listened to the ruffling sound as the phone was passed to your sister. "Hey, Y/N. I'm happy for you." She said, taking you for a loop. "Ya mean it?" Silence.

She cleared her throat, "yeah, yeah.. of course I do. Little Charlie is a lucky guy." She chuckled slightly, causing you to do the same after a second. "Aw I'm glad you think so. I love you Mary."

"I love you too, good night." Then she hung up.

1960-

It had been four months since you had gotten engaged to Charlie. Life was going good for you.

You were going in for your first day on a new movie. All you knew was that it was called G.I. Blues. You were excited to finally get to see some new faces on the lot and you were hoping to make some friends along the way.

As you were setting out your makeup supplies, you heard the door to the trailer open. "Hi there! I'll be ready shortly, just take a seat," you called out to whoever walked in, but you were met with complete silence. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned to greet the mystery person, you couldn't believe what you were met with.

"Elvis.."

You felt as if you were going to pass out. The two of you just stood there in silence, staring at one another.

After what felt like hours, he took a small step forward, causing you backup. "Y/N, I-"

"Last calls! Filming begins in fifteen minutes!"

You were yanked from your trance. You cleared your throat, gesturing towards the seat he was to sit in, as you turned back to your makeup supplies.

"This shouldn't take long, take your seat so I can get this over with." The time of shock had glossed over, and now you were hit with your feelings of anger and betrayal. You didn't even want to look at him, let alone act like you knew him. He made it clear when he left you stranded that the two of you were nothing but strangers.

You worked silently, trying to keep yourself from touching him.

"What's his name?" He asked. You glanced down to see him staring at the ring on your finger. Your heart dropped. "Charlie." You stated in a barely audible whisper.

Elvis opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off, "I'm done, you can go."

But he didn't move. He sat there staring at you, his eyes swirling with sadness. "Fine, if you won't go, I will." You huffed angrily, throwing down your brush and storming out of the trailer.

The minute the door closed behind you it felt as if you could breathe again. A weight lifted from your heart.

Realizing that he would see you standing there when he came out of the trailer, you walked away. You found yourself in the costume department. There was a nice girl there who you had talked to on past movies so you stayed with her until you knew it was safe to return to your stuff.

You did what you had to do before leaving, not wanting to linger and risk the chance of Elvis seeking you out again.

Everyday for a week straight, he would come in to get his makeup done, try and get you to talk to him, watch as you stormed off, and curse himself for ever hurting you. He didn't know why he did what he did, there really was no explanation for it. He was stupid and lonely, seeking solace in anyone he could get it from. He felt guilty for straying so he stopped talking to you instead of expressing his problems to you in fear of breaking your heart. He thought that sparing you the knowledge of how he was living in Germany would be better than losing you, except now he had lost you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered one day. You rolled your eyes, "imagine that." You scoffed, moving your brush over his face a bit more aggressively than normal. He paid no mind to your motions though, staring forward with sad eyes.

He looked worn down, dark bags underneath his eyes, and he always wore a look of sorrow mixed with regret. A lot different from the first day on set.

You were angry with yourself for caring. You hated how you wanted so desperately to reach out and hold him, to tell him everything was going to be okay and that you loved him. You didn't want to love him, you wanted to hate him for what he did to you, but you simply couldn't.

"Y/N, I really am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but know that I hate myself for all of it." He said. You didn't respond, finishing the last bit of makeup on him.

It had become routine for you to abandon your stuff and retreat back to the costume department with Angela. Today was different though, you leaned against the counter with your arms folded across your chest. "Why?" You fought back the tears that threatened to spill at just the thought of how he abandoned you. "Why didn't you say anything? Why just leave me all alone?"

"I don't know. I was a dumbass and there's no excuse." He responded. "I waited for you, Elvis, just like you asked me to, and you broke my heart!" You yelled, throwing your hands around. His own eyes glossed with tears, "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

You wiped away a loose tear, cursing yourself for letting him see you cry over him. "Sorry really doesn't cut though, does it? You weren't the one left to pick everything up." You gave him one last glare before walking out, slamming the door.

You were packing up to go home when the door opened later, making you jump. You knew who it was before you even turned around. "I need a touch up, we have to reshoot a scene from the beginning and my stuff has wore off." Elvis stated, taking his normal seat.

"Ya know, Charlie mentioned once that when we were teenagers, you threatened him," you watched as his eyes squinted slightly in thought. "Said that you were gonna kill him if he ever hurt your 'little', but that's funny seeing as you hurt me first." You forced out a sarcastic chuckle, making him cringe.

"I want to hate you, Elvis, I really do, but I can't and I hate myself for it." You started tearing up again but quickly blinked them away.

"I thought I was doin' more good than bad back then. I thought I was protecting your feelings." Elvis mumbled, looking into your eyes.

**

In the following weeks, you came up with a sort of truce. It wasn't ever formally stated, but you became less hostile and tried your hardest to understand his perspective.

"What scene are you shooting now?" You asked him as you attempted to apply a tiny bit of eyeliner to his outer corner, he squirmed as you did so. "I'm supposed to sing to a puppet," he said, sounding distraught with the idea, you snorted. "You could come watch?" It was more of a question.

"Hmm.. I'll think about it. Now stop squirming, you're acting like a baby." You said sternly. Elvis blinked, purposefully ruining your progress. You huffed, "Elvis! That wasn't nice!" You shouted, turning to find a wipe. He snickered, obviously proud of himself.

You sighed frustratingly as you tried to salvage some of it. "You've always been that way, you get happy when you make me mad. It's frustrating." You didn't really realize you said it until it was out. You watched as his eyes swirled with the same gleam they did all those years ago at the ice cream parlor.

For a while you stared into each other's eyes, an unspoken something lingering in the air between you two. You cleared your throat, taking a step back. You quickly finished his eyeliner, "all done, get on out there."

I’m posting way too much, but I hope you’ll forgive me and enjoy this anyway🫶🏻

[scenteddelusion5]

"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene," PART 5 (FINISHED)

Vox x gn reader (Alastor's child)

Note: LAST PART!!! Are you ready?!

Word count: 4074

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Y/n's eyes slowly opened. How long were they asleep? They slowly pushed themselves up. Familiar sheets covered them, it was theirs. Looking around they were on their room, only it looked to be a lot cleaner. All their dirty clothes had disappeared, their box stood newly organised in the bookcase and the dirty cup that usually stood on their nightstand was gone. In its stead stood a beautiful vase with their favourite flowers in it.

Their shoulder was patched up. It hadn't completely healed yet, it still hurt but not as much anymore. Y/n threw his legs out of bed, trying to stand up only to fall down again. They hadn't had any energy left, despite having slept for at least a few hours.

"Where's Vox?" Y/n whispered to themselves.

That's when it hit them, Vox had gotten hurt because of them. their adrenaline pumped up again, giving Y/n the strength to stand up again. They ran, or rather stumbled, out of the room.

"Vox!"

Alastor ran up from his eat when he heard noises coming from upstairs. His child was finally awake. He ran to the stairs and there they were.

"Careful, little fawn, you'll fall." Alastor held them up using his shadows.

"Vox! No, where's Vox?!" They tried to pull themselves away from the shadows. "I have to get to Vox."

"Your... 'boyfriend'... is fine." Alastor said with disgust. "He is coming by later in the afternoon. You should lay down again."

"You aren't going to hurt him?"

"As much as I dislike him, I now see that you two are truly in love." He held them by the arm and let them back to their room. "You've been asleep for two days, the angelic rope had drained a lot of your energy." He sat them down back on the bed. "That noisy picture box of yours had come by six times since he had awoken, even brought you flowers."

"He brought these." They mumbled, reaching for the flowers.

The Radio Demon looked at their child smiling at something as simple as a few flowers like they were the biggest treasure in the world.

"Little fawn, I'm sorry. I tried to protect you to the best of my ability but I almost lost you because of it." He pulled them into a hug. "Please forgive me."

Y/n hugged him back. "I forgive you."

"Now, what would you like to eat?" Alastor pulled back and patted their head. "You must be starving."

"Jambalaya sounds really good right now."

"Good old Jambalaya it is then." He stood up and was about to leave the room. "Oh, I almost forgot, he left you a gift. I put it on your desk." The door closed with a click and they were all alone again.

They stood up again and slowly made their way to the desk. A small unfamiliar, black box sat in the corner. Inside it sat a brand new VoxTech phone, a new phone case and a note:

I'm sorry love but after what happened I kept the tracker on. -Love Vox <3

Picking up the case, it had a cute drawing of a deer in the green woods on the back. Y/n turned on the phone, on it popped the same picture of Vox and them. He had transferred all their data and settings.

Y/n looked at their two contacts; Vox and Velvette. Their finger hovered over the calk button. Alastor said he would came by later anyway... But they really wanted to hear his voice, just to see if he is okay. They clicked.

It took Vox only two seconds to pick up. "Y/n? Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm doing fine. I just woke up. How are you?"

"Now that I'm talking to you, better than ever doll." His voice deepened, trying to sound cooler. Y/n really loved this dork.

"Sir, the presentation is-" A squeaky voice could be heard through the call.

"Don't you see I'm on the phone." Vox dismissed him.

"If you're busy I can calk later."

"NO! Don't worry about it, I'm not busy, Vox said quickly, "you know what? I'm so not busy I will come over right away!"

"But sir-" The voice spoke again.

"Bye bea, I'll see you in a minute!"

Y/n could only imagine the panic on his worker's face when Vox sprinted out of that meeting. After speaking with him again, Y/n felt their energy recover even more and decided to head downstairs.

Alastor was working on his special Jambalaya in the kitchen. His little, deer tail swaying to the sound of jazz music coming from the radio. Hearing Y/n enter, he turned around.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He asked. "You should be resting more."

"I feel rested enough." Y/n stalked over to the stove. "It smells amazing."

"Of course it does, I made it. I also put in the 'secret ingredient'." He winked. "Even used your favourite."

A knock came from the front door.

"I'll get it!" They rushed to the front door. "Hey Vox!"

"Y/n!" He hugged his lover. "How are you healing up? Does it still hurt? Should I get tou some painkillers?"

Alastor rolled his eyes hearing the TV Demon at the door.

"No need, I'm doing fine."

The two walked back in through the hallway into the kitchen.

"More importantly, how is your wound?" They gently grabbed his arm to inspect the wound. "I'm sorry, I hurt you."

"You didn't do anything! I-I jumped in front of you! It's my fault." Vox slightly buffered as he was talking a mile a minute. "I'm just happy you're fine." He put on his adorable, dorky, little smile.

"Vox, I wasn't expecting you until 5 pm." Alastor's voice sounded irritated but his smile didn't falter.

"Well, Y/n called me. So I rushed over."

There definitely still was tension between the two, a lot of tension. But they weren't openly nor aggressively hostile towards each other. It was progress.

Alastor's smirk grew wider. "Then why don't you join us for lunch. I made Jambalaya." He put down the pot on the dining table.

Vox sat down next to Y/n, wrapping his arm around them. "Sure."

Vox regretted his decision as soon as Alastor pulled of the lid revealing the Jambalaya. A familiar smell reeked from it, there was demon meat inside it.

"You know what, I think I'll pass." Vox laughed nervously.

"I can't believe how rude your boyfriend is being Y/n. Not eating the food I so lovingly prepared." The Radio demon took a big scoop and put it on a plate. "At least take a bite."

"It's fine if you don't want it." Y/n pulled the plate away from him. "I'll finish it for you."

"What kind of man can't even finish his own plate?"

"Those are old-timey values, dad."

"Hmm." Alastor looked him up and down. "It's still disrespectful."

"Like we have ever had respect for each other, you old bastard," Vox said holding up his middle finger.

"See, that's not any way to talk to the father of your partner."

"Dad, stop it." Y/n scolded him. "You don't have to eat anything you don't want to."

Vox looked down to the Jambalaya and then back up to a smug looking Alastor. "I'll try it."

"Splendid!" Alastor grabbed two more plates and filled them up. "Bon appetite!"

Vox slowly used his fork to bring the Jambalaya to his mouth. He had eaten demon flesh before, this shouldn't be any different. Just bite through it.

The TV Demon swallowed as fast as possible. "Blur, that was... sure something."

"Aren't you going to finish your plate?" Alastor challenged him.

And so the lunch went on. Vox almost throwing up with every bite while Alastor was smirking at him every time.

"There, I finished it!" He yelled, victorious.

"Then would you like seconds?"

"Dad! Leave him alone. You've bullied him enough." Y/n was quite surprised by hoe civil the two still were but that didn't mean they had fully forgiven him. "Besides, you had hurt him pretty badly too during my 'rescue'. Don't you think he deserves an apology?" They knew they were pushing the Radio Demon's limits with that one and yet they still wanted to see if he actually would.

Alastor sighed, "Vox."

Was he actually going to?

"My sincerest apologies, I hadn't realized how weak you truly are and therefore used too much force."

"Oh fuck you."

"Now that that's out of the way, we have more important things to discuss." Alastor stood up and brought the dirty dishes to the sink. "You see, after my poor fawn had passed out and Vox decided to be dramatic, I captured the demon behind the attack. I still have him, Paris and the imp in my possession"

"Hmm, you know, I've always wondered what imp tastes like." Y/n cheekily suggested.

"As for Paris, I will have some fun with him and then hand him over to Rosie." Alastor had washed off the dishes and was putting them back in the cupboards. "He's her responsibility. The last Demon's fate is up to you, DEAR future son in law." The nickname was spat out like venom.

"So, who is the fucker that wanted them dead anyway?" Vox enquired.

"It seemed a certain colleague of yours had gotten jealous and decided to take my little fawn out."

"Val," Vox whispered. "I knew he was acting weird."

"How are you planning to deal with him?"

Vox looked at Y/n, their deer eyes staring back at him. He could have lost them forever, all because Valentino couldn't get over being dumped. He had to kill him. Not only to ensure Y/n's safety but also to prove himself to Alastor. To prove that nothing comes before them.

"Do you have angelic weapons here?"

Vox, Y/n and Alastor had wondered deep into the forest on the Radio Demon's territory. Nothing could be heard except for some hellbirds chirping.

"Doesn't this bring you back, little fawn?" Alastor lamented. "I still remember your first hit, we buried his leftovers next to that old tree. Haha, those were the days!"

"Yeah, I couldn't even finish a liver back then!" Y/n laughed.

As terrifying as their conversation was, it could not compare the what he was going to do. He knew Val had to go, for their sake, but he was still an old friend. One HE had to kill. He couldn't even discuss it with Velvette first!

Oh she was going to be so mad, with Valentino gone both their workloads would increase tenfold.

They stopped at a clearing. Vox held the gun in his sweaty hands. Alastor opened a pitch black portal. Out of it he pulled a tied up Val.

"Don't you know how shitty it is in there!" The overlord yelled. "Ah, Voxie baby, thanks for getting me out of there."

Vox held up the gun and pointed it straight at the man's head.

"Wowowow, what's all this about?" Valentino looked around seeing Alastor and Y/n glaring at him. "Are you seriously choosing them over me? You FUCKING need me! YOU NEED ME!!!" He started to approach Vox. "These two are going to get rid of you after me!"

"Goodbye Val." Vox pulled the trigger. An angelic bullet shot straight through the demon's head, killing him instantly. "So, what are we going to do with the body?"

"Don't worry, the animals will take care of it."

A month went by like a breeze. Vox had to find a new face for the V's 'film' department, in the meantime he had to take over as Velvette refused to take on more work.

"Fuck no!" She had yelled when he even brought up the possibility of taking over a little bit of paperwork.

So it all fell on him. This also meant he had less time to spend with Y/n, which they understood. And Alastor got to enjoy the chance to tell him how much of a terrible boyfriend he was for not spending enough time with them.

All and all, things went well.

As Vox's workload got smaller and smaller the couple started to spend more time together, which Alastor loathed. So the man took every chance he got to interrupt the two.

Going to the movies, suddenly there is a power outage. Having dinner at restaurant, Alastor invites himself along. Taking a walk through the forest, suddenly he NEEDS Y/n's help with something.

It became a sort if challenge between the two, who could keep Y/n's attention for the longest.

The couple were laying on the bed in their room Y/n reading a book while Vox was handling some more documents. Door wide upon as per Alastor's rules.

"I swear he is doing it on purpose!" Vox complained. "I mean, he straight up attacked me this time."

"He wants to see what you can do, train you." They turned over a page in their book. "It's his way of bonding. He already likes you a lot better, I swear!

He sighed, "if you say so, sweets. I sometimes just wished we could get along better, not just for my comfort but for yours." Vox set down his tablet on their nightstand and combed his fingers through their hair. "It must be exhausting to have us bicker all the time."

Before Y/n could answer, however, they got interrupted.

"My little fawn!" Alastor walked in. "I have to go to a meeting and I was wondering if you would come with me?"

"Oh." Y/n looked up at Vox. "I think I'm staying here. I haven't had the chance to hang out with Vox in quite some time."

"That's so unfortunate, you see." The overlord smirked. "It's quite the chance to build some steady connections for when it's time to climb up the ranks for you, but oh well!"

"If that's the case, why don't you take Vox with you?!"

"Pardon?"

"He is an overlord too, connections would be useful, right?" They looked the TV Demon in the eyes.

"Uhm well yes, bu-"

"Then this is your chance!" They jumped up from the bed and started pushing Alastor out of the room. "He'll be down in five."

For some strange reason or another, the Radio Demon didn't make a fuss about it. Just accepted that Vox would come with, strange... Very strange...

Alastor and Vox stood awkwardly next to each other right outside the front door.

"So, are we taking a car, or...?" Vox broke the silence.

"If we still lived in my time we would have just taken the trolly," the Radio Demon remarked, "But we aren't so get those legs moving. It's quite far."

The TV glared at the other walking away. "Where are we going, anyway?"

Alastor looked back at the man catching up to him. "Don't worry your ugly little head over it!"

"This 'ugly head' scored your child, motherfucker!" He retorted.

A shadowy tentacle shot out of Alastor's back. The appendage hit Vox right in the middle of his screen, almost cracking it.

"I didn't take you for a gambler," Vox said, staring at the buzzling casino the two were about to enter, "what would Y/n think of you?"

"I don't frequent establishments of this kind often but when I do, I don't plan on losing." Alastor made his way inside, the other following him. "This is your chance to show me what you're made of. Don't ruin it."

Vox followed the demon into the back where a familiar overlord was sitting at a poker table.

"Husker my old friend, I see you are at again!" He sat down at the table and as soon as he did, a few of the denizens that excused themselves. "How about a round? Even brought easy pickings."

"I'm not easy pickings!" Vox yelled whole sitting down, not willing to back of from this challenge.

"Vox, huh, didn't realise you became chummy with the Radio Demon." Husker looked him up and down. "Fine, you can join but remember, we're dealing in souls over here!"

As soon as Vox sat down, chips appeared before him. These chips, however, weren't your usual casino chips. No, these held a soul in them. He couldn't believe this was happening, gambling with souls was very risky and here Alastor, fucking Alastor, was willing to risk it against the overlord of gambling. Not only that, but the man had pulled him along too.

The cards were shuffled and everyone got their own deck. This was insane, losing even one game could mean losing his position as an overlord. Now that Vox was thinking about it, Alastor had planned to bring Y/n along for this.

He was willing to risk Y/n's power and soul for a stupid game! This didn't feel right, Alastor would never. Then maybe, just maybe, the Radio Demon had already secured the win before even starting the game.

Vox looked over at the man, and the face he saw confirmed it. The Radio Demon was smirking even wider than ever before. This was going to be Husk's last night as an overlord. For him this meant to protect his own souls at all costs and let Alastor handle the rest.

"Come on Husker, are you really going to back out now?" Alastor teased, "Maybe you'll win it all back in one last round!"

"I don't have more souls." Husker glared at the giant stack of chips in front of the other two.

"Well technically you do have one more... But I understand why you wouldn't gamble with it." The Radio Demon put on a fake disappointed face while still maintaining his signature smile. "I guess that's it for the gambling overlord."

The two other demons were about to stand up and leave before Husker spoke up, "Wait! One more round but keep in mind that I have only one souls to bet!"

"It's a deal then!" The Radio Demon immediately agreed. "I'll put in all my chips for your singular soul."

"I'm backing out." Vox took his chips and made them disappear. Knowing Alastor, the demon would've taken all his souls too this round if he didn't. Besides, he had even gained a few souls that night.

"Heads up, then?" Husker asked at which Alastor agreed.

It was a brutal sight. The horror in Husker's eyes after he realised he not only lost his position as an overlord but also lost his own soul, all in the same night.

"Well good friend, it's getting late and I have to prove to my little fawn I didn't kill their suiter!" Alastor made all his chips disappear. "Come on Vox, Y/n is waiting on us."

"Right..." Vox was still flabbergasted about what he witnessed that day.

Once outside, he gained the confidence to speak up. "What was that?"

"Just some dealings, shouldn't an overlord like you understand such a simple concept?" Alastor chided. "Or are you as incapable as I first guessed you were!"

"That's not what I meant! You were going to have Y/n gamble with souls?!" Vox stepped in front of him, blocking the way. "You know how risky that would be you lollipop looking FUCKER!!!"

"They would've been just fine," he shrugged, "besides, it's about time they gained more power. I can't always be there for them, especially when they go behind my back." He shot a glare at the other man.

"Then why were you fine with me coming?"

"Hmm, if they're going to be with you, I should make sure you can protect them."

The rest of the way back was silent. Vox mulling over the other's words.

Weeks went by and instead of fighting over Y/n's attention, Alastor started to pull Vox away from them for 'training sessions'. While Vox found them to be tortures, he couldn't deny they weren't useful.

It was Y/n's birthday, the house was decorated with banners and guests were coming over. Vox had already been there since morning, annoying their father. Rosie, Franklin, some other cannibals and even Velvette came over. Gifts stacked on the table, snacks were available next to the pile.

"Oh darling, it's good to see you." Rosie shook their hand. "And another happy birthday!"

"Thanks, Rosie!"

At some point Alastor pulled Vox away from the party into his study.

"I need to talk with you." The Radio Demon filled his cup with whatever was in the ceramic pitcher. "As you know I am quite the traditional man."

"I'm aware," Vox answered.

"Then I probably won't have to tell you this but I just want to make sure." He took a sip from his mug. "If I find out you two partook in any... Usual marital affairs before you two could wed, I will hunt you to the edges of hell and rip your soul apart." Alastor grew twice in size, his eyes turned into dials, and static and symbols appeared all around him. "G̸̟͉̍̃͒̐͝Ö̴͔̫̀T̸̻̹̆ ̶̺͉̻̫̝̯̈̉̅̏̑ ̸̠̞͌͋͛͑͛̉͝͝I̵̖̩̓̃̈͝Ṫ̷̨̧̥̺̤̗̳̹͒̐?!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Great!" In one second the Radio Demon was back to his usual self. "Now let's get back to the party, shall we?"

Guests came and went, until only Alastor and Vox were left.

"So, uhm, the night's almost over but I haven't given you my gift yet." Vox held a rectangle box in his nervous sweaty hands. "Here."

Y/n carefully pulled of the ribbon and the wrapping paper, revealing a box. It was a V-Reader.

"Thank you."

"I wasn't sure you would like it but it can hold of 5 million books, designed it myself!"

"It's perfect." Y/n kissed the screen right between his eyes where his nose would have been.

"Erhmehm," Alastor fake coughed while glaring at the other overlord, "You also haven't received my gift yet." He grabbed their hand, holding it tightly.

Before Y/n realised what he was about to do, pure power started running through their veins from their hand to the rest of their body.

"I got these souls recently and have no need for them. I figured you could use some more power."

"I see, thanks."

The rest of the night was spend with just the two lovebirds in their room, door open of course.

"Dad's been acting weird, don't you think?"

"He has been his some old annoying self as far as I've noticed." Vox ran his fingers through their hair. "Why do you think that?"

"He would've never given me souls if it wasn't for something important and instead of trying to pull me away, he has been 'training' you." Y/n laid their head on his chest, listening for his heartbeat. "He has also been very sentimental the last few days, looking back on childhood memories, cooking together, hunting together. It all feels off."

"Then we'll ask him about it tomorrow, I doubt he would want to worry you."

"If you say so."

They were never able to ask him, because when the two of them woke up without the father yelling at Vox to get out of their bed, the two knew there was something wrong. They looked around the house, Alastor, however, was nowhere to be found.

They went to Cannibal Town to ask around, but no one had seen him there either. Not even Rosie knew where he was. Y/n's worry grew and grew. It got so bad that Vox decided to use his camera's to look all over hell to look for a sign of the Radio Demon.

Nothing, absolute no sign of Alastor.

Months went by, still no sign. Y/n moved into Vox's apartment, for both safety and not to feel lonely in their old home where everything reminded them of their father.

Even after all this time, Y/n still held hope, however, after two years that hope dissolved too. Vox and them started taking over all of the Radio Demon's responsibility.

After a while the two of them even got engaged and Y/n had accepted the fact that their father likely would never come back.

Epilogue

Seven years went by and the love birds were extremely happy, until one day Vox was working in his office and one of his camera's that he had around the princes' new hotel picked up something.

"THAT FUCKER IS BACK!" Vox yelled, staring at the screen showing the Radio Demon casually hanging out at the Hazbin Hotel. "He didn't even tell Y/n. Oh, I'm going to make him suffer for their grieve. I'm going to make you wish you'd stayed gone!"

And that's the end. My next long series is with Zestial, part 1 already out. But if you have any one-shot request for me check out my pinned post with all the characters I write about!

Masterlist/request guidelines

Taglist: @hxzbinwrites