#at no point did I know what I would say next and you can tell

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid - Part 2

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4705

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: Thank you so much for the response to part 1! And thank you to everyone who was so patient and understanding for this part taking a while to write. I hope you all like it.

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Wanda seems to be in a better mood lately, Natasha notices, probably because the two of you rekindled whatever complicated romance you had going on. And as sad and lonely as it had made Natasha feel, at least Wanda was being less rude to her, and that would always be a win in her book.

The grocery trips and errands she sends Natasha on are less demanding, although Natasha’s unsure if she’s becoming more comfortable or Wanda’s gotten less picky. Wanda still requests Natasha’s help for her weekly meetings, and Natasha cannot understand why someone who is unemployed goes so out of her way to find the most mundane, meaningless things to participate in. But it keeps Natasha paid and busy, and she still gets to see you a few times a week.

“What are you doing this weekend, Natasha?” Wanda asks while the two of them are in the kitchen. Wanda is on her laptop while Natasha stands at the counter, cutting vegetables for dinner.

“Um…” Natasha knows better than to tell Wanda the truth, which is that she’ll be sitting alone in her apartment for the next two days and eating ice cream on her couch. “Some friends invited me to go shopping with them at the mall,” she lies. She doesn’t have friends and she certainly doesn’t have the budget to shop at a mall after all the debt she still owes.

“I’ll be gone all weekend with some girlfriends,” Wanda says, not even acknowledging Natasha’s plans, which makes her wonder why she had even bothered to ask in the first place. “I’m not into wine tasting much, but the girls go nuts for it. I’m just going for the spa at the resort, between you and me.”

Natasha has no idea what to do with this information. But she’s spared from answering when the garage door rumbles open.

Wanda slams her laptop shut. “Oh, Y/N is home early.” She gets up to greet you. Natasha can hear your voices carry through the hall.

“You’re early tonight,” Wanda says. “I was just telling Natasha about my weekend plans to Vermont with the girls–”

“Your weekend plans?” you interrupt. “Since when did you have plans to go to Vermont?” Natasha has never heard you sound genuinely angry before. She stops cutting the carrots to focus on eavesdropping.

“Carol wanted to go for her birthday!” your wife says.

“Wanda,” you say, your voice lowering. “Our anniversary is this weekend. I booked us a stay at the Ritz and got us tickets to see Wicked–”

“Well, just ask for a refund!” Wanda hisses. Natasha is stunned that this is her first response to forgetting about her entire anniversary with you. “And we can celebrate when I get back–”

“‘Get back?’” you repeat. “That’s not the point, Wanda. Why don’t you ask for a refund for your trip–”

“I can’t do that to the girls,” Wanda says. “Carol’s been looking forward to this for months!”

You mumble something that Natasha can’t hear. She feels awful for you. Clearly, you had spent a lot of money and time planning a nice outing, and your wife didn’t seem to care one bit. In fact, she tried to put the blame on you for intruding on her plans. Natasha felt herself shaking with rage for you. You deserved so much better.

The two of you trudge into the kitchen and Natasha hastily goes back to cutting the carrots. Wanda is hanging onto your arm, tiptoeing to whisper into your ear but you shake her off and walk through the kitchen to the staircase. Natasha knows that Wanda is glaring at the back of her head, probably upset that she had overheard, but for once she doesn’t say anything and disappears after you.

The mood is particularly subdued when Natasha serves up roasted salmon with a colorful vegetable medley and mashed potatoes. 

“Thank you, Natasha,” you say as she hands you a loaded plate. 

Wanda doesn’t say anything when Natasha gives her a plate.

While the two of you eat in awkward silence, Natasha cleans up the kitchen, her final task of the day. She grabs her purse and heads towards the door, when she hears footsteps behind her.

It’s you.

“Can I walk you out to your car?” you ask. “I know it’s a safe neighborhood, but I don’t want you walking out in the dark by yourself.”

Natasha is so flattered by your offer she doesn’t stop to consider how Wanda might feel about this.

“Sure, I really appreciate that. Thank you.” She leads the way out of your house.

“Sorry you always have to park around the corner,” you add, maintaining a respectful distance from her on the sidewalk. “I’ve told Wanda the whole neighborhood knows you work for us. But she’s…” you trail off, clearly not wanting to speak ill of your wife.

“I’m sorry she forgot your anniversary,” Natasha blurts out. 

You seem startled that Natasha had been eavesdropping, but quickly recover. “Well, it’s…it’s not the first time she’s done it,” you admit in a soft voice. “I don’t know why I bother trying to do anything special anymore. It’s just another day to her. And it seems like she’d rather spend it with anyone but me.”

“She’s missing out,” Natasha says, surprised by her own confidence. “You’re a wonderful person and you deserve someone who will appreciate the efforts you go to celebrate important milestones like that.” She stops before she can offer herself up.

“Oh. Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.” 

The two of you stop at Natasha’s beat-up Nissan. 

“Thanks for walking me to my car–” she starts.

“Are you busy this weekend?” you ask suddenly, in a rushed whisper as if Wanda is around the corner listening. “If you’re not, would you like to see Wicked with me at the Gershwin Theater? I told Wanda I could probably get a credit with the Ritz, but I don’t want to deal with the hassle of exchanging the tickets, too. You can come over Saturday night and I’ll drive us?”

Natasha is so shocked by your proposal she doesn’t even have the words to agree at first. Growing up, she had loved watching musical movies until the VHS tapes wore out, but she had never had the opportunity to see a live performance. Even now as an adult, she still didn’t have the time nor the budget to see a show. To hear you ask that you wanted her to join you, when you had bought the tickets for you and your wife to enjoy on your anniversary she had forgotten, sounded almost too good to be true.

But if Wanda found out you had taken Natasha instead of her…Natasha shuddered at the thought. Maybe this was stepping over the line of professionalism. Natasha wanted to keep her job (and her head), and as much as the opportunity was a dream come true for her, she didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness or weakness.

“Um, I’m supposed to go shopping at the mall with some friends on Saturday,” Natasha says, cringing at the patheticness of her life. “But really–thank you for inviting me. I’m sure you have friends you’d rather take over your maid.”

“I don’t have any friends,” you say, so deadpan that Natasha almost laughs but quickly turns it into a cough when she realizes you’re being serious. While you seemed more reserved than your wife, Natasha refused to believe you didn’t have a strong social network. You were in charge of your own company and clearly doing well if you lived in this neighborhood and could afford a personal housemaid like her.

“Good evening!” The two of you startle when a cheery voice comes out of nowhere.

“Hello, Mr. Vision,” Natasha says, spotting the eccentric man first as he walks by at a rapid pace.

“Late night walk, Vis?” you call out, and he nods with a wave, pumping his arms faster and milling away. The only thing Natasha knew about Vision was that he lived by himself at the end of the street. He had no wife or kids that she knew of, not even a job as he was constantly seen walking around the neighborhood at odd hours. But he never approached Natasha or made her feel uncomfortable, which was more than she could say for most of the people living here, so she was happy to ignore him.

When Vision moves out of sight, you say, “Well, if your plans happen to change…” You fumble in your pockets awkwardly, pulling out a bent business card and handing it to Natasha. “My cell number is on there. Text me before Saturday if you’re still interested.”  

“Okay.” Natasha doesn’t want to get your hopes (or hers) up, but she still isn’t convinced this is a good idea. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Natasha.”

She loves the way her name sounds coming out of your mouth.

***********************************************************************

Natasha is still unsure she made the right decision to turn down your offer to see Wicked. She even called her only friend, Clint, to ask if she should’ve said yes.

“Well, you’re just seeing a show together. Think of it like a work bonus or something. Bosses give their employees nice stuff like that all the time,” Clint says as Natasha picks at a box of takeout in front of the television. Cooking at home was not her favorite chore after doing it all day for her clients.

“Yes, but it’s just the two of us,” Natasha stresses. “Y/N got the tickets to celebrate an anniversary and Wanda already hates me as it is–”

“Nah, she doesn’t hate you,” Clint says.

“You haven’t met her! You don’t see the way she treats me.”

“Exactly. Maybe this is Y/N’s way of apologizing for her behavior,” Clint says.

“I don’t know…” It was already Friday night. Natasha didn’t have much time now to change her mind if she was going to.

“Be nice to yourself, Nat. Let someone do something for you,” Clint goes on. “You work so hard for these people all the time. And I know how much you’ve always wanted to see a live performance.” Natasha feels tears well up in her eyes. She wishes Clint was here in person so she could give him a hug. “Nothing bad will happen. Just tell Y/N you want to go before someone else takes your spot.”

Natasha takes a steely breath. Clint is right. It wasn’t a date. It just was her nice boss treating her out to a Broadway show. Never mind the fact that you had intended to take your wife initially. Wanda would never have to know, right?

“Okay. Thanks, Clint.”

“Enjoy!”

As soon as she hangs up, Natasha goes into her texts. She already created a contact for you the night you gave her your business card. Her anxiety is through the roof as she types out a message to you, then deletes it and starts over. She gets more and more frustrated trying to find the right words, before she finally throws in the towel and clicks “Send.”

Less than a minute later, you respond.

Happiness explodes inside of Natasha. She can hardly believe her luck. Not only does she get to see her first Broadway show, but she gets to see it with you, and have dinner on top of it. She darts over to her closet, looking for the nicest dress she owns.

Wanda be damned. Natasha was going to have a great night with you. 

***********************************************************************

“Table for two, please.”

“Did you have a reservation?” the blonde woman at the podium asks.

“No,” you respond.

“Oh, well, I’m so sorry, but we’re all booked out for the evening,” she apologizes. 

Natasha stands behind you meekly. She can’t even pronounce the name of the restaurant and doesn’t know what kind of food they serve, but it’s probably far beyond anything she could ever afford. She’s wearing a dark green dress that almost reaches her ankles and is conservative in protecting her assets, and spent over an hour doing her makeup, and she wonders if strangers will look at the two of you and assume you’re a couple. She wouldn’t go out of her way to correct them.   

“That’s okay. This was a last-minute plan for us,” you explain. “If Tony is working tonight, can you please tell him Y/N stopped by to say hello?”

“Wait, you know Mr. Stark?” the woman pales. “Don’t go anywhere. You said your name is Y/N?”

You smile and nod. The woman steps down from her podium and dashes into the back. 

“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends,” Natasha boldly teases. 

You turn and wink at her. 

“Tony and I went to college together,” you explain, although this implies you shared a friendship of some kind. “And clearly, his business is doing better than mine–”

The woman quickly returns with a short bearded man wearing a gray suit with red-tinted glasses that match his tie. 

“Y/N!” Tony shouts, embracing you in a dramatic hug. “You should’ve told me you were coming tonight! I could’ve put together a private booth in the back–”

“It was last-minute,” you say. “This is Natasha, by the way. She’s a friend.” Natasha is thrilled at the way you associate her with you.

“Hello, Natasha, I’m Tony.” He takes her hand and gently kisses her knuckles. He doesn’t seem surprised you haven’t brought Wanda along instead. “I take it you haven’t been here before, Miss Natasha? You won’t need a menu, I’ll have the chef bring out the best dishes we have tonight.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you say. 

“Follow me! You can have a table in our east wing. Where’s Wanda?” Tony says rapid-fire, turning around and leading them deeper into the restaurant. You step out of the way and motion to let Natasha go first, and she feels your hand graze her back as she walks past you. 

“She’s out with her girlfriends for the weekend,” you answer from behind Natasha. 

“Your anniversary is coming up, right?” Tony asks.

“Yes,” you respond, your voice suddenly tense.

The restaurant is packed, every visible table filled with customers, until they turn around a corner to a quiet, completely empty area.

“Pick any table. I’ll have a waiter come out with some drinks shortly,” Tony says.

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Natasha echoes, unsure if she likes this special treatment. You pick a table near the corner and pull her chair out for her. As soon as the two of you are seated, a waiter in a vested suit appears with a few bottles of wine, making suggestions and pouring samples into the glasses. Natasha doesn’t have enough knowledge to understand what he’s saying or differentiate the tastes, but she enjoys the experience. It feels strange to have someone serve her, when she’s normally the one waiting on people’s every demand. 

The two of you share several appetizers together. Natasha feels like she’s floating in a dream. You have been nothing but generous and respectful to her, but every time your left hand reaches across the table for the caviar, the wedding ring on your finger taunts her. 

The dinner itself is a four-course affair, including a rich chocolate cake that Natasha devours faster than she can fully enjoy. When the bill arrives (which Tony has already chopped in half), Natasha still asks if she can chip in (despite knowing full well she doesn’t have the money to cover even her portion), but you push her card away and give the waiter your black card.

The theater is three blocks from Tony’s restaurant, so you leave your car in valet parking and ask Natasha if she’s okay walking. She had not planned ahead very well, so she only has a thin cardigan to cover her shoulders. You notice her shivering and offer her your heavy black jacket that completely engulfs her frame. Your scent completely surrounds her now and Natasha swears she won’t wash this dress ever again.

The line into the theater moves quickly and Natasha follows you all the way down to the front, where your seats are perfectly center to the stage. She crawls over a few people, feeling a little smug about getting some of the best seats in the house. You had truly spoiled her tonight and she was never going to forget this. 

She leans over to whisper to you before the show begins. “Thank you for everything tonight. I’ve already had so much fun and the dinner was amazing.”

“You’re very welcome. Thank you for joining me, and thank you for all the hard work you do for my family,” you say and Natasha beams. “Me and Wanda really appreciate it.” Natasha deflates a little at the mention of your wife, but she pushes her out of her mind to focus on her time with you. 

As they wait, Natasha props her arm up on the armrest between you two so she can hold the playbill at a comfortable angle to read. Suddenly, your arm drops heavily on hers and she looks at you in confusion. You’re reading your own playbill and don’t seem to notice that your massive arm is practically crushing hers.

“Um, Y/N?” she prompts, clearing her throat.

“Hmm? Oh!” You quickly move your arm off hers. “I’m so sorry, I thought that was Wanda’s arm,” you explain with a nervous chuckle. Natasha laughs too, although she isn’t sure if she should be happy or worried that she reminds you of your wife. She’d be happy to take Wanda’s place any day, though. 

The musical is amazing, impressive beyond anything Natasha had ever expected. She cries when Elphaba defies gravity, and after the whirlwind of the second act, she is among the first to give a standing ovation. She’s floating on cloud nine as she walks with you out of the theater back to the car.

The drive back to your home is quick at the late hour. Just as you're about to pull into the driveway, you slam hard on the brakes, jolting everyone forward. Vision power walks past the beams of your headlights, only breaking the pump of his arms to wave in thanks.

“What is he doing out so late?” you ask, and Natasha is relieved to know she’s not the only one who thinks his habits are a bit odd.

“No idea,” she mumbles, watching you pull onto the driveway and stop.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Natasha says, still giddy with excitement.“This was the best night of my life. I’ve always wanted to see a Broadway show, ever since I was a little girl. I never thought I’d get the chance, even after I moved here–”

“You’re very welcome,” you interrupt, seeming almost shy with the praise.

“I’m sorry Wanda wasn’t able to join you for your own anniversary,” she adds, although she’s not sure why.

You shrug. “Nothing we can do about it now. Besides, I’m glad you were able to join me and had such a fun night. I don’t think this would have been nearly as fun by myself.”

There is a pause and Natasha has to force herself to stop looking at your lips. If she had no self-restraint, it wouldn’t have taken much for her to lean over the center console and kiss you.

“Have a good night, Natasha. Drive home safely,” you say as the two of you get out of the car.

“Thank you again!” Natasha doesn’t even listen to music on her way home, riding out the high of what was easily one of the most memorable nights of her life in over a decade.

***********************************************************************

A few weeks later, Natasha is working a double shift: the first one at Steve’s house, and the second at yours. You’re away at work, as usual, but she knows you’ll be home before she leaves for the day, and she never takes any glimpse of you for granted. Wanda is also back to being demanding and cranky, and Natasha has no idea if you told her about the night the two of you had together. She had felt the silent instruction from you not to blab about her taking Wanda’s place and was happy to keep the memories to herself.

She’s in the front hall, mopping while quietly humming “Defying Gravity” to herself, when Wanda clacks by in high-heels.

“Natasha!” she hisses. “Didn’t I tell you to start in the kitchen? If I slip out here because the floor is wet–”

“So sorry!” Natasha apologizes, hoping that she doesn’t finish her sentence. “I’ll put a fan on.” She rests her mop against the wall and darts off for the $300 Dyson fan in the closet. After pointing it towards the gleaming floor, she pushes her cart into the kitchen and continues mopping. She makes sure to open the window to air out the smell, and notices Steve across the street mowing his lawn. 

She stares at him, wondering if he can see her, and her question is quickly answered when Steve waves to her. She returns his wave with a smile, then goes back to her task before Wanda can complain she isn’t working hard enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him back away from his lawn mower and answer his phone; he disappears into his house hurriedly. 

“Natasha! Always make sure you open a window when you mop!” Wanda’s screech comes out of nowhere. “The chemicals you use give me a headache!”

“Oh, but the window is open–” Natasha tries to explain, but Wanda silences her with a wave of her hand.

“I’m on the phone!” she says, pointing to the cell phone held up to her ear. Natasha bites her lip, but holds her tongue. “Sorry, honey, what was that? No, I was talking to the maid,” she says. Natasha perks up despite the way Wanda titles her. You’re clearly on the other line, and maybe you’ll be home sooner than expected.

But Wanda disappears into a guest room (your house had so many of those), and Natasha can no longer hear her conversation. She dutifully continues to mop the floor, careful to fan the mop in a semi-circle pattern so as not to trap herself in a corner. She moves the chairs to the hallway one at a time, cursing their awkward shape that makes them difficult to carry and taking special care not to scrape the feet along the floor. 

Wanda’s shrill voice carries through the house again, this time covering a topic that makes Natasha’s cheeks heat up.

“Oh my God, yes, I’m still thinking about last night,” Wanda says. “When you had my legs behind my head–”

Natasha tries not to picture Wanda folded up like a pretzel while you plow into her. But she can imagine herself in a similar position (she’s not so confident in her own flexibility, but she’d make it work for you). Your hands could probably fit around her whole thighs as you push her legs apart wider, thrusting your hips in long strokes to fit your big dick into her. Natasha is embarrassed to admit that the last time she had masturbated, she had thought of you the whole time.

How much more you’d fill her compared to the flimsy toy she was using. How you would feel throbbing inside her, your body pressed hot and heavy against hers as you beg for her permission to finish. Imagining having you like that, with that kind of control, brought Natasha to the most amazing orgasm of her life. If only you had been there to share it with her. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to go another round, but you proved me wrong,” Wanda continues, and Natasha picks up on how breathless she sounds. She wonders if she’s touching herself right now, with Natasha mopping in the kitchen. Somehow, that wouldn’t be shocking to her. “You were still so hard when I put you down my throat.”

A lightning bolt of arousal strikes Natasha’s core. She can’t focus on mopping anymore, staring blankly out the kitchen window, lost in the new filthy fantasy playing in her head, guided by Wanda’s narration. 

Natasha lies between your legs, her lips barely brushing your hips as she takes your cock down her throat. She prays her gag reflex doesn’t protest at the obstruction in her airway, but despite the slight discomfort, she wants to do this all day. Your pants and moans are like music in her ears, urging her on to suck harder and take you deeper.

“Please Nat,” your voice wavers. The muscle fibers in your thighs are visibly tensed and your back arches off the bed when Natasha pushes your hips down, trying to maintain some kind of control over you. But your body seems to have a mind of its own, with only one goal in mind. 

“It’s almost like I can still taste you.”

You poke at the back of her throat and Natasha can feel the hot throbbing of your cock in her mouth. She’s so eager to swallow anything you’ll give her, she’s almost embarrassed in her desperation, but when your hands cup the back of her head, pushing her down so she can fit the last inch down her throat, she knows the two of you are on equal planes of passion.

Your entire body flexes and the anticipation for Natasha is overwhelming. You finally inhale sharply as the first hot spurt lands on her tongue. 

“Being on your knees for me is a good look for you.”

Natasha tips her head back against the wall, her fingers tangling in your hair. One of her legs rests on your shoulder while the other is spread far apart so you can kneel between them, your mouth pressed against her heat. Your tongue swirls around her clit and Natasha fears she won’t be able to stay standing much longer. 

“Y/N,” she pants, clutching your head tighter and rocking her hips forward. “I need you.”

Your fingernails dig harder into her thigh to still her. You look up into her eyes and Natasha thinks she’s going to finish right there. “You have me, baby. I’m all yours.”

“But there’s really only one place you belong.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you grunt, almost sending Natasha headfirst into the headboard with every one of your thrusts. “I could stay inside you forever.”

Natasha hums at the praise. She’s holding on the bedsheets for life, spasming and clenching around you, trying to pull you in deeper. You fill her so perfectly, she’s convinced her body was made for yours. 

“Tell me I’m better than her,” Natasha gasps, fighting to delay her own release.

“Fuck Wanda,” you grunt, pulling back on Natasha’s hips at the same time you thrust forward, burying your entire length into her. “I love you, Natasha. You’re the only one I ever want to be with.”

A noisy car engine pulls Natasha out of her head. Her face feels flushed with arousal, and she knows what she’s doing the second she goes home. Your green car suddenly pulls into the driveway but stops. You get out and walk to the street, grabbing one of the trash bins and pulling it towards the house.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck me again,” Wanda says in the background.

The realization crashes down on Natasha’s head like a cold shower. She watches you grab the second bin with both hands, carefully walking backwards with it.

You’re not on the phone and you’re standing 30 feet away from Natasha. If Wanda’s not on the phone with you, then who is she talking to?

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

AN: Who do you think Wanda was talking to? 👀

To be continued...(hopefully)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[reginamillls]

At this point Buck has an app on his phone that tells him when it will be sunset.

He never wants to be late.

The elevator ride to the top is long, and it's followed by four flights of stairs, and he can feel himself almost running up them, long legs taking two at a time till he's at the top. The view, is breathtaking. But Buck isn't here for the view. He finds his usual spot just as the sun is dipping below the horizon and he can feel how the stone next to him heats, the magic throughout breathing life to the figure within. With the last of the sun's rays, the figure next to him is free, roaring to life as he stands from his protective pose over the castle. Buck can't help but look on as wings, powerful enough for flight, stretch into the air and then come back down around the creature's shoulders.

When the creature turns to him, Buck doesn't feel scared, he just feels welcomed. "Tommy," Buck greets and Tommy wrinkles his nose. The nick name was new, something more modern for the times. He likes to think that Tommy is actually fond of it. "Evan," Tommy replies and he steps down from the ledge to stand next to him. He smiles at Buck, sharp teeth on display. His eyes travel up and down Buck's body, something the other knows is how he is checking up on him, making sure that he hadn't been injured at all since they last met. Buck had been uncomfortable the first time Tommy had done it, the gargoyle could be intense at times, but over their interactions, Buck has come to find the action sweet. "Have you rested?" That was another thing, Tommy cared. He cared that Buck would often stay up all night, living off little sleep just to help him, and would call him out on it too. Tommy would remind Buck often that he had waited a thousand years to awaken from his curse, he could wait longer so that Buck wouldn't hurt himself. "I did," Buck says smiling at Tommy checking in on him. His smile grows though when he takes his backpac off and turns it around, opening it up to reveal an ancient looking book. "I found something, possibly a lead to what happened to the hatchlings." "We shall go over it then," Tommy states firmly, head tilted as he takes in the old book. "How did you come upon this?" Buck may have stole it, but that was a story for another time.

They work together on translating what they can that night, the two slowly gravitating towards eachother until Tommy is a solid weight at his side, his arm brushing against Buck's as they work to try and find answers. Buck desperately wants to help Tommy find his family, aching to know that his new friend has been alone for so long, seemingly the last of his kind. It speaks to him in a way he never expected, and in helping Tommy, befriending him, Buck feels a little less lonely as well.

[hotchnerwrites]

Hiiii 🤍 I'm the anon who requested Obsessed Hotch i wanted to tell you that you did an amazing job i really loved what you wrote, thanks for taking the request 🥹🥹🫂

I thought of something new if you don't mind🥹

It could be something about Hotch and the reader where they're sitting across from each other, maybe in a restaurant or something and he says something like 'don't you think you're too far away from me?🤨?' Or maybe the reader lifts his foot a little under the table to stretch it out and Hotch feels the movement so he pulls it a little to indicate that he should come closer. 🥹

In the end they end up sitting next to each other and he is so proud that he got what he wanted. 🙂‍↕️

I know i mentioned a restaurant but it can also be while they eat at home or even at work whatever is best for you.🫶🏻

I hope you had an amazing holiday and have the most amazing year ever! 🫂💌💌

I send you my love and a hug 🙂‍↕️

pls just consider it only if you like the idea if you can't ignore it!🫂

One Inch Closer

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: SFW, first date, new relationship, fluff, flirting, nervousness, hand-holding, Aaron is touchy

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words. This is the kind of stuff that keeps me motivated!!! I'm so glad to see you in my requests again, it's always such a pleasure to write for you. I'd been hoping you'd request again <3 I'm sorry for the wait; I was travelling, and I had no access to my laptop. But it's done finally! I hope you like it, please enjoy reading it!!! Sending you my love. Oh, btw! I wrote two parts for this 👀 😁 I legit couldn't choose between either suggestion. Keep an eye out for a part two hehe 💨💨

Dividers by @/enchanthings-a My requests are open! Send me stuff :)

You hadn’t thought buying an ice cream at your local park would’ve landed you in this spot a couple weeks later.

It had been on a whim. You hadn’t seen one of those ice cream trucks since you were seven, and it had been a hot day. So, you’d decided to treat yourself to something sweet. You definitely deserved it after the week you’d had. After fending off some very hyperactive children, you managed to acquire your soft serve. And that’s where you met him— Aaron Hotchner. He had been hard to miss, a towering wall of muscle standing in line behind you. 

You don’t know how it happened, how a simple gesture of sharing a bench with him as you licked your cone had turned into a surprisingly entertaining conversation. Maybe it was when you started laughing at his dry jokes. Maybe it was when he told you about the time he accidentally wore mismatched shoes to a meeting and didn’t notice until someone pointed it out an hour later. 

You couldn’t hide your delight as he shrugged and said, “At least they were both black.” 

But somewhere between the ice cream and the short stroll through the park after, you’d found yourself falling for him. So you didn’t think twice about accepting his request for dinner together. Now, here you were, sitting across from Aaron’s handsome features at a candlelit table in a fancy restaurant.

And you were nervous. 

No, this was way more— you could almost hear your heart hammering. You cast a glance at Aaron across your booth, wondering if he could feel your nerves radiating across the table. But he seemed entirely at peace, his demeanour calm as he perused the menu. If anything, it just made the difference between the two of you feel even more glaring. Aaron was effortlessly composed. Meanwhile, you were fidgeting with the tablecloth, the restaurant feeling like a furnace suddenly. You could only pray that something would distract you from these incessant first-date nerves. 

“What would you like to eat tonight? The roast chicken is the only thing I can pronounce on here, I might just get that,” he laughs quietly, eyes twinkling in the soft light of the candle.

You blinked. Your mouth opened in response, but your brain had apparently taken a walk. An awkward silence ensued, but pandemonium broke loose within you.

Oh my god. You couldn’t believe you’d just frozen up like that. Not after how easy conversation had flowed with him in the park. What if he thought you were bizarre? You probably looked like an idiot right now. Please, don’t let this be the reason you never hear from him again.

“Are you all right?” Aaron’s deep timbre cut through the chaos of your mind. His brown eyes were studying you from across the table. You had feared judgment, but there was nothing but concern behind the intensity of his gaze. 

“Yeah... I’m fine. Sorry, uh, I’m just…” you chuckled nervously, “First date jitters, I think.”

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t bite, sweetheart,” he teased, his voice soothing the tension in your stomach.

You laughed, enchanted by how easily he had managed to put a stop to your spiralling.

The waiter dropped off your drinks, and for a moment, there was nothing but the soft clink of glasses, the rustling of the napkins, and the quiet hum of conversations filling the space. Then, Aaron shifted in his seat, his focus narrowing on you. His brow furrowed slightly—something unreadable flashing through his gaze.

He seemed a bit… off. 

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. 

Was the conversation too dry? Or maybe the food was taking too long?

A breath of hesitation caught in your chest as your eyes met his. You could acutely feel the weight of his gaze, soft yet all-consuming, as if he was dissecting every little thought, every little gesture.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, voice tentative.

"No," Aaron said quickly, though there was a tension in his posture, something that was just a little too intense for the moment. He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving you. “But don’t you think you’re a little... too far away?”

You blinked at him, unsure what he meant at first, but then his eyes softened with a hint of something—was he flirting?

He was still watching you, eyes never wavering. There was something in the air now, something you couldn’t quite define, but you felt it rush through your veins, making your heart skip.

A nervous giggle slipped from your lips before you could stop it. You felt a flush creeping up your neck, and you quickly masked it with a smile. “Is that so?”

There was something effortlessly intimate about the way he said it, how he made it feel like it was your choice, your move. Without thinking, you got up and slid next to him in the booth. 

"Better?" you asked softly, your voice not quite as steady as you wanted it to be.

Aaron’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, “Much.” 

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, before his hand, ever so casually, reached out to cover yours. The heat of his palm felt comforting against your skin and steadied your pulsing heart.

The waiter came back with your food, but neither of you really paid attention to the plates being set down in front of you.

"Thanks for coming tonight," he said, his voice suddenly softer, almost vulnerable. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes when I asked, but I’m really glad you did.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering again. “Aaron, I wouldn’t miss this for all the world.”

And in the quiet that followed, you both knew it wasn’t just a dinner anymore. It was the start of something new, something that neither of you had fully anticipated—but were both quietly excited to explore.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

part 2 (coming soon!)

[trvqvoiisee]

Between Us

Part 3- Love Finds a Way

Part 2- The Almost Moment

Part 1- A Glimpse of More

Y/N stood, brushing crumbs off her jeans. “I should probably get going.”

Minho turned back to her, his hand still on the door where Maddison stood. “You don’t have to leave.”

Maddison looked between them, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the strap of her designer bag. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked, her voice light but pointed.

“No,” Y/N said quickly, grabbing her bag. She didn’t want to deal with Maddison’s subtle jabs or Minho’s obliviousness to them. “I have some reading to catch up on anyway.”

Minho frowned, stepping away from the door. “Y/N—”

But she was already halfway to the door, smiling stiffly at Maddison as she passed. “See you later, Minho.”

She barely made it down the stairs of his apartment building before the tears started.

For the next few days, Y/N kept her distance, burying herself in schoolwork and dodging Minho’s texts. She told herself it was for the best. Whatever feelings she had, they would pass—just like every other fleeting crush she’d had before.

But this didn’t feel fleeting.

Friday night rolled around, and Y/N found herself curled up on her couch with a blanket and a pint of ice cream. The familiar opening chords of a rom-com played in the background, but her heart wasn’t in it.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Coming,” she called, dragging herself off the couch. She swung the door open, only to find Minho standing there, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

“Minho?” she asked, startled.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been busy,” she lied, folding her arms over her chest.

“You’ve never been too busy for me before,” he countered, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

Y/N closed the door, leaning against it. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you.” His voice was quiet, but there was an urgency to it. “Something’s been off, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “Minho, I’m fine. Really.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, moving closer. “You’ve been pulling away, and I don’t know why. Did I do something?”

She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze.

“Then tell me what’s going on,” he pressed.

The dam broke.

“I’m in love with you, okay?” she blurted, her voice trembling. “And it sucks, because I know you don’t feel the same way. So, yeah, I’ve been avoiding you. Because it hurts to be around you when all I can think about is how much I want us to be more than just friends.”

Minho stared at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might laugh or say something to ease the tension. But he didn’t.

Instead, he stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “how could you think I don’t feel the same way?”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he admitted, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “But I was too scared to ruin what we had. I didn’t want to lose you.”

She searched his eyes, her heart pounding. “You mean it?”

“Every word.”

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t like anything she’d imagined—it was better. His lips were warm and soft, and the way he held her made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

When they finally pulled apart, Minho rested his forehead against hers, grinning.

“So,” he said, his voice teasing, “still think I don’t feel the same way?”

Y/N laughed, her heart lighter than it had been in days. “I might need some more convincing.”

“Gladly,” he murmured, kissing her again.

Outside, the city buzzed with life, but inside, in their little corner of the world, everything felt perfect.

For the first time, Y/N realized that their story wasn’t ending—it was just beginning….

An: Like,comment or repost if you want a part 4 also thank you for all the likes on parts 1 & 2 I appreciate it!!

[moonshynecybin]

hiiiii i was gonna save this for their evil little joint bday week but i finished it and thought it would be fun to post... anyways around 2k of rosquez porn have fun i hope ya like it

“Are you Valentino Rossi?” Comes the question, sweet and eager, just to his right.

He looks over. The kid standing there is in a tight t-shirt and has a starstruck, too-big smile plastered across his handsome face. The kind of handsome Vale likes, dark hair, brown eyes, thick brows. It makes him shift on his stool, turning on the point of his elbow to face him, and open his legs a little. 

“Allora, that’s what they tell me,”

“Well,” The kid’s mouth stretches wider once he realizes he’s got Vale’s attention. He's thrilled. Perfect. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Vale ignores the question. This guy’s Italian is clumsy, thick in his mouth, and they’re at Mugello, so this is a bit strange. He raises an eyebrow and tugs on his earring, surveying him.

“You’re Spanish, no? You weren’t rooting for Lorenzo, maybe?”

The kid shakes his head, oddly confident. “No no, when I was young I liked Pedrosa, I wanted to be just like him.”

“Ah, Dani,” He says knowingly. This guy is short and Spanish, so that makes sense.

“Him, and you.” He adds on, and flushes prettily, pink on his cheeks, looking at Vale with a clean, incongruous sort of intensity. 

“Me, huh?” He stretches back and lets his eyes go half lidded, dragging up and down the kid’s body. “What's your name?”

“Marc,” he says, and brightens immediately, taking a seat next to Vale like he’s got permission, like he’s won something. He orders two shots of tequila without asking Vale what he likes. Jesus, he is young.

When he turns his overeager gaze back to Vale, a curl of hair flops into his face, bolting dark and inky down his forehead. Low light throws his cheekbones into sharp relief, and it’s striking. He's striking. Vale likes it. Marc licks his lips like it’s a habit. His hands are broad and his wrists are small, delicate, tapping jittery little patterns on the slab of the bar. His pinky is crooked, it matches Vale’s.

He takes him in.

“So, do you want to tell me why?” He asks.

“What?” Marc grins, surprised and confused and delighted.

“Tell me why.” Vale repeats, to watch the confusion deepen.

“Why, what?”

“Oh— why you like me, over Dani. And Jorge,” He adds like it’s an afterthought. It’s not.

“What, do you need an ego boost?” Marc replies, a burst of something behind his eyes, a little bit of a challenge. He laughs hard after he says it, but Vale doubts he was fully joking. 

He finds himself wanting to know how many different emotions Marc’s smile can actually be a cover for, wants to examine and catalog them, find out what he can say to crack the mask, break the seal.

He smile even wider, like he thought it was just as funny as Marc did, and makes it sleazy. It's a game, now. He loves games. Maybe Marc will be able to play.

“Ah, an insider secret for you—riding is a game of confidence. You say you’re a fan?” Marc nods fast. He leans forwards and watches Marc’s pupils blow out, more ink spilling. He wants to write a letter with it, wants to draw something. “Then of course you should want me to be confident, so I can win. You know, that would make me very happy.”

Marc holds his eyes for a moment. They spark. He bites at his lip again.

“Really? You want to know what I like about you?”

“I do.”

“Can you do me a favor first?” Marc knocks back his tequila, then looks at Vale through his lashes. Coy. He can play.

“Hm,” Vale refuses to commit. He's curious, though, in more ways than one.

Marc could ask for anything, and Vale could decide whether or not to give it to him.

“I have something for you to sign.”

That’s easy—perfect, even. Vale looks around, Marc’s hands are empty, “Where is it?”

Marc grins suddenly, flavored with victory. Vale wonders how it tastes.

“Back at my hotel room.”

Once Vale has finished laughing, they go.

*

Still eager, still young, Marc kisses him before the door is even closed. Bites at his lips while Vale tries to talk, hands hungry on his body as if Vale’s going to take off and leave in the middle of the fucking hookup. He hears a door slam and smoothly suppresses a flinch. Marc doesn't see, which is good. He has a part to play here.

“Hey hey hey, you know, I know you are not famous,” Marc chuffs out a belly laugh, jajajas against Vale’s neck at the joke. “But paparazzi, they do follow me. I don’t want my picture in the paper next to my one night stand, it could ah,” Marc nips at his earring, plays with it with his tongue, lets Vale squeeze the muscle of his ass. “Ruin my reputation.”

“Is that what I am?” Marc breaks off of the hickey he was working onto the skin behind Vale’s ear and hooks two fingers into his belt, hauling him into the room. He kicks the door shut. “A one night stand?”

“I fly out tomorrow,” Vale lies regretfully, and Marc smirks at him a little too knowingly, then drops to his knees.

“You asked me what I liked about you,” He says, working at Vale’s belt, his fly. Vale flips off his shirt, toes off his shoes.

“I did,” He starts, and Marc leans in.

When he’s got him out, he takes the head into his mouth, throat working in slick sounds as he slides further down, starts to work the base in his hand. Vale works not to moan, biting the inside of his cheek, and he thinks Marc cant tell, because he looks up at him like he would smile, if not for Vale’s cock in his mouth.

“I like that,” Marc says once he pulls off, wiping a little at his face in a prissy sort of movement. His lips are shining, a bruised, swollen red color, and there’s still some spit sloppy on his chin. He leans forward and licks at the blunt head, one broad, flat, long stroke that makes Vale’s toes curl from the power of the sensation, the vulnerability of it, and then he stays close. Speaks with his lips against the delicate, overheated skin of Vale’s dick. “Will that help you win?”

Vale catches his breath, blows out some air from his cheeks, loosely curling a hand in the mess of Marc’s curls. He feels out of sorts, off balance. Thrilled.

“Well, you know it cannot hurt,” Masking how eager he is with a joke, to lance the sensation, make it a little less keen. How bad he wants it. it’s not even new, he’s been in this position hundreds of times— it shouldn’t feel like it is. He shouldn’t need it like this, like if Marc walks out of the room he’d be taking a chunk of Vale with him.

“So, ah.” He covers, remembers what he should say. “What was it that you wanted me to sign?”

Marc giggles and stands, shucking off his clothes as he does. Smooth skin, built thighs, compact body full of muscle and scar tissue. Vale looks hungrily. His cock is hard and big, hanging between his legs.

Oblivious to Vale's eyes or pretending to be, Marc sits on the bed and gestures to his body, twirls the marker between his fingers. “Could you?” He asks sweetly, and Vale realizes that what Marc wants him to sign is himself. 

His dick throbs. This kid.

“Where?” He asks, smoothing a smooth hand over Marc’s shoulder and gently pushing him back against the bed. Marc arranges himself against the pillows easily, boyish smile huge on his face.

“Wherever you want,” And Vale kneels over him, sits back on the solid shape of his torso so he can feel Marc’s big dick twitch against him, get that feedback. Vale settles, surveys, palms himself. Marc swallows.

“I think here,” He muses, splaying his fingers like a frame and holding them above Marc’s right nipple. 

“Does that look right to you?”

“Yeah,” Marc breathes. 

He plucks the marker from Marc’s fingers, asks, “Is there anyone I should make out the message too?”

His brown eyes are wide, bottom eyelashes spiky against his cheek. Butter wouldn’t melt. “No,”

“No one? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” He's trailing his other hand over Marc’s pecs now, pinching at his nipple to see him squirm, tease him a little. Hips buck up, rubbing his erection against Vale’s ass and blurting a wet streak of pre-come there.

“There is someone— an older guy from around here, but we haven’t slept together yet so I don’t know if he’s, how do you say it in Italian— leading me on,” Marc says impatiently, still trying to fuck up against Vale, and Vale laughs, spits, and starts to work himself in his hand.

“Okay, okay,” He uncaps the marker with his mouth and positions his other hand over the smooth skin of Marc’s chest. He signs his name, Valentino Rossi, in silver against golden skin, and Marc shudders, a full body tremor, as the nib drags over his skin in a practiced stroke. His mouth drops open, still pink from Vale’s cock, and Vale presses his thumb hard against the nipple when he finishes, and throws the marker on the floor.

"God," is dragged out of Marc like he cant help it. Vale doesn't know if he's talking to him or not. He fists himself from tip to base.

His hand picks up its pace, fixes on the shine of his name on Marc, the way he’s whining now, small noises as his he moves in little abortive thrusts against Vale’s thigh. He grinds down, braces his free hand on Marc’s tit, framing it, and runs his mouth, mindless, says Marc’s name over and over until it's all he can think, all he can think.

“Marc, Marc,” He murmurs, and his dick kicks in his hand, and he comes, stunned, all over his name splashed across Marc’s chest. He makes a noise, one he can't help, and finds that he barely minds.

Marc doesn't let him recover, his hips still shoving upward, his hands an urgent grip on Vale’s thigh.

“Vale,” He whines, demanding, and without really thinking Vale scoots backward, bending down and sucking Marc into his mouth, working him over hard, until he can hear Marc make a noise and twist his fingers into the fabric of the sheets. He looks up at his face, at the color high on his face and the furrow of his brow as he pants. He wants to see it happen. Wants to make sure.

One suck, two sucks, and then a flood— Marc tensing and twisting, thighs coming up to Vale’s temples, and it’s over, Marc twitching and gasping through the aftershocks, the silver of the marker and Vale’s come shiny on his chest. 

“That was fun,” He says dreamily, and Vale hums, feels a little dizzy. He wants to bite at Marc’s thigh, so he does. He'd rather taste sweat than come. Rather mark him in more ways than one, than two. Wants it any way that he can have it.

Marc pets his head lazily, rucking up the sweaty curls in a familiar motion, and then reaches over to the nightstand and puts on his wedding ring, twisting it down his finger.

“We should do that again,” He sits up to grab his phone— probably checking messages from Álex. Vale crawls up to flop next to him, leaning over the bed and grabbing a t-shirt to mop up the mess on Marc’s chest. He doesn’t like to be sticky for too long.

“Yes, yes we should,” He agrees.

Marc hums.

“Next time, I get to be the rider, I think.”

“Really? Eight time champion Marc Marquez picking up fans in bars? I could tell the papers.” He tosses the shirt over his shoulder.

Marc shoots him a look over his phone, then reaches, hand catching at Vale’s wrist and hauling him back close.

“Oh, but I thought I was not famous.”

Vale grins, collapses in to hear Marc grunt at the crush of his weight, to press his face against the soft skin of Marc’s armpit. He traces his name, and then traces Marc's scar.

“Caught that, did you?”

Marc winds an arm around his back. Keeps him there.

“Hm, yeah I did.”

“I was getting into character.”

“The character is you.”

“Yes, and I am a funny guy.” Vale says, and then he reaches up to turn off the light.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Birthday Present

Part 1 | AO3 | *This is a story told in scenes and can be read in any order though is listed in chronological order on the masterlist.

Gary’s birthday present had been in the works for at least six months at this point. It had started with a blushing question.

Even snuggled under your blanket only your face peeking out of your cocoon you were still cold. The tip of your nose had a decidedly different temperature to the rest of you. This left you with a dilemma. If you covered up your face your nose would warm up but then you would be breathing your own air and that wouldn’t last long.

Finding no good solution for this you glanced over at Gary who sat up against the headboard under his own blanket. He watched something on his phone. From the lack of sound, you knew he had to have a headphone in.

“Hey, Gary?” You pitched your voice a bit louder than it really needed to be to get his attention over his video.

The man reacted like he had found a nun behind him as he watched porn. A hand slammed his phone to his stomach, his head jerked to you so fast you worried he had pulled something, and his knees pulled in tight to his body.

He stared at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to speak.

“You alright there?”

If you had started counting right as he opened and closed his mouth you would have reached twenty before he was able to force words out, give up, and move to signing.

Question for you and know I will never ask again if you say no. And please, feel free to say no.

“What’s the question?” You can’t decide if you should feel nervous or trepidation.

Can I masturbate to you? Well, thoughts of you specifically.

“Uh..yeah? I don’t think I care. Why?”

Gary collapses into the mattress like an inflatable balloon man who lost air pressure.

“I-i-i-i don-n-n’t l-l-ike hid-d-d-ing-ing-ing from you-u-u.”

“And you thought that using me as masturbation material without permission would be hiding things from me?” You put the thoughts together as the words fall out of your mouth.

He nods, face flaming as he stares at his toes.

Snaking a hand across the mattress between your bodies you tap him lightly on the arm. When Gary finally looks, you offer him a small smile and pull back to open your blanket in a clear invitation. He wiggles down, nestling in next to you as you drape your arm over his waist.

“I’ll let you know if the idea makes me uncomfortable later but I can’t see why it would bother me. Maybe just don’t tell me when you use me in your thoughts, okay?”

He nodded aggressively, hugging you tight.

When your chilled face touches his neck you can’t help but giggle at the cry of ‘nose’ from him.

What had started as an innocuous question had spiraled into something more for you. Calling in a few favors to borrow a soundproof booth, a quick editing lesson, and a boudoir session you had a gift for Gary.

None of your partners made a big deal of their birthdays so when you passed the large square box to Gary as everyone sat around the dinner table no one thought much of it. The dark lid pulls away with little effort and is passed off to John. Atop a large book with a ribbon tie on one side is a slim thumb drive with a piece of masking tape on it. In your neatest handwriting is the phrase ‘use headphones’. He sets it to one side.

Gary, John, and Kyle who sat on Gary’s other side all glance up at you. You can do no more but fight down the smile.

Glancing between you and the book cautiously Gary lifts it gently from the box. John takes the bottom half of the box and sets it to the side with the lid. Holding the book upright Gary opens the knot of the ribbon and cracks the book open somewhere in the middle. John’s brows shoot up, Kyle’s mouth drops open, and Gary? Well, Gary snaps the photo book shut and stands, staring at you.

“Happy birthday Gary,” you blow him a kiss.

It seems the kiss was the step too far as he leaves the room, John and Kyle hot on his trail.

“The hell did you give him that caused a reaction like that?” Johnny glances between you and the hallway where the three of them had disappeared.

“A photo shoot,” you reply succinctly resting your elbow on the table and your temple against your fist.

Johnny narrows his eyes at you before taking off after them.

That left you and Simon. Sending a smile his way you stand and start to clear the table.

“What’s this then, if they have your photos?” Simon wiggled the flash drive at you.

Rolling your lips between your teeth you think of the best way to explain.

“Let’s say, I don’t mind helping someone have a good time, even if I don’t want to be a part of it,” you stack the plates and haul them all to the sink.

Simon comes up behind you, thick arms trapping you facing the counter.

“And did you only make one copy of these…good time tools?” He is nearly growling in your ear.

“Of course not! You can have yours on your birthday.” You know you look like the cat that ate the canary.

Simon bites the apple of your cheek.

“Brat. It’s May 17th.”

“See how hard that was? Now you can get your own recordings and books. I gave each of you a few different photos.” Sneaking a glance up at him you point to your cheek. “Now kiss it better.”

He does; then helps you clear the table and load the dishwasher.

Masterlist | Fallen Angel Masterlist

@lilynotdilly

[luvlyycy]

In some serious need of Black Widow smut man PLEASE MAN HAWKEYE TOO I need to feel something 😩😩😩😩

# a / n : HOW BOUT BOTH HUUUHHHHH!!!!!! sex hcs for u cus i know u luv em. also for nat fem n male bodied reader are there for clint its only fem bodied

NATASHA / / BLACK WIDOW .

● i know missy lives to give head, she's a giver not a reciever.

● whether its eating pussy or sucking dick she loves it. she's also like, really good at it.

● she LOVES ass bruh, thats her favorite part of you male or female (besides pussy and cock)

● i feel like she'd put her girlfriend in such a mean mating press or have her suck on her strap. shes such a mommy fr

● threesomes or foursomes are hard to avoid with her, she loves having so many people around her to love on YOU , specifically cus she knows all her friends have a crush on you. i mean, would you say no to bucky or clint joining? i doubt it.

● hickey giver . all the time. she'll mark you up in the most obvious places and when people ask shes like, "yeah? who did that, babe?"

● give her backshots please.

● she prefers dominating you but won't mind if you wanna take the lead.

● she enjoys make up sex a little too much.

● VOYEURRR !! shes always sending you some sort of nude when shes on a mission, its to the point where you always expect one.

● she likes risky sex, it comes with an adrenaline rush and she loves that.

● will randomly grab your cheeks.

● loves to scratch your back, thighs, chest— anything she can get her hands on tbh!

● although even tho she enjoys having multiple partners during sex, she is very faithful to you. will never sleep with someone else without you.

● calls you pet names during sex and some of them may be in russian.

● leaves lipstick marks on you after she gives you head. (base of your cock, your inner thighs, pussy lips, stomach, etc.)

CLINT / / HAWKEYE .

● oh honey this man makes LOVE TO YOU.

● he has you in missionary, kissing you and telling you how much he wants to knock you up.

● breeding kink is out of control.

● you suck his dick and hes like, "fuck baby, gonna breed your throat." like sir, can you relax

● wants to eat you out 24/7

● he says he's hungry and youre like , "what do you wanna eat" next thing you know its been three hours and you've came seven times on his face

● he LOVES face fucking so much. loves ruining a pretty set of makeup, or cumming all over your face when you tell him not to...

● hes getting on your nerves just to ask, "you still mad at me?" when hes deep in your guts.

● he has a very subtle daddy kink, likes to hide it from you then randomly be like "daddy's pussy, right? this belongs to daddy, yeah?" like yes sir. it does.

● hes so nasty??? like, constantly grabbing your ass and whispering the filthiest shit in your ear.

● god at dirty talk.

● also god at sleepy and morning sex. carefully sliding his cock into your cunt with a grunt, hands running up and down your body as the sun either is rising or the moon is set. that sort of thing

● gets jealous easily so jealous sex is something yall cannot avoid.

● this man is always telling you that your pussy is his, your throat is his, pretty ass is yours— homie is possesive.

● umm. pull his hair! he'll probably moan, bottom, or fuck the shit outta you.

● ceo of creampies and throatpies

● loves when you makeout with his balls. (they smell vv good btw)

● also hes a grower and a shower, mans dick is thick and long with prominent veins.

● has a habit of making you jealous just so u get possesive n mark him. 🤷🏽‍♀️

# a / n : bucky hcs next perhaps??? rubs chin.

[allllium]

Master Plan Pt. 2

Jason x reader fake dating

~ This is a little short but the next one will be longer

~ WC: 899, They discuss a fake background

~ Jason is anxious about your plan

"Why do you plan to do? Walk in, say we're dating, and expect them all to believe it? Out of nowhere?" You ask him in confusion, Jason knows his family very well and he knows they wouldn't fall for it.

"Well what do you want to do? They won't believe it either way."

"Don't be such a downer."

"I still don't know why we're doing this. It seems dramatic."

"Yes it does that's exactly the point Jason."

"None of this makes any sense." He rolls his eyes and walks into his bedroom. You follow closely behind him.

"It makes perfect sense. Seeing your family will help you feel better, Jason whether you want to believe it or not. And this way, they'll all be so thrown off by the announcement of our relationship, they won't ask about other things. You can spend the next few weeks playing pretend and healing without their overbearing questions."

"Yeah, I guess I can see it that way." He sits down on his bed with small sigh.

"Hey." You sit down next to him, "Everything will be okay."

"I know, I would just like it to be okay now, not however far along."

You pull his hand into yours to comfort him. You've been friends for so long that small touch like this doesn't bother either of you.

"We'll work on it."

"Why are you so instinct on helping me?"

"Because we're friends, believe it or not I enjoy your company. When you're not being so mopey that is."

"Hey I am not mopey." He quickly defends.

"If not mopey then what are you?"

"Something else that's not mopey." He admits quietly.

"That's what I thought. Now backstory." You pull out a piece of paper from one of the notebooks Jason has on his dresser.

"Do we really need a backstory? Just tell we started dating a little bit ago."

"Oh no. If we're doing this, we're doing it properly. That means we're creating a backstory and answers to any questions they might ask."

"You've certainly thought this through."

"Yes I have because I want this to work. You realize if it doesn't they'll make fun of us for the rest of forever?"

"Which makes me wonder even more what you're real motive is for doing this?"

"Is it wrong to want to trick your family?"

"Not at all." You also want to help him in any way you can, it's what friends do.

"No that makes no sense." You're quickly learning not to take any of his words seriously. He's disagreeing with basically everything you say.

"Yes it does Jason." It's been almost an hour and you've gotten almost nothing done.

"No it doesn't. I would never do something extravagant to ask someone out." He shrugs and takes a chip from the plate on the coffee table.

"Why not? Relationships need a certain type of romance and work."

"I'd rather celebrate with a quiet night at home and a homemade dinner."

"Fine, we'll say that."

"What else?"

"I don't know. What do you think is appropriate for your family to know?"

"Nothing. My relationships are none of their business." You aren't surprised by his attitude with this. He doesn't like telling them anything about his personal life.

"Jason." You say sternly. Despite his words, there must be something he's thinking of. He knows how his family is.

"They'll probably ask who made the first move and when we realized our feelings."

"That's good, now you're thinking."

"So what do we say?" He asks with an uncaring tone.

"Well Jason, when did you realize you're feelings for me?"

"I felt some hatred since the moment I met you if that counts." He smiles like he's pround of himself.

"That's not nice. If you don't take this seriously, I'll have no choice but to make everything up myself and I'll make it so embarrassing for you you'll never want to leave the house."

"I'll tell them it's when we were-" He takes a pause. "Making dinner together for Alfred's birthday."

"That makes sense. Good job." He rolls his eyes.

"What about you?"

"I'll say the same. It'll mean more."

"Alright then."

The two of you fall into a strange silence and you can't pinpoint why. Of course it's been very awkward trying to talk about things like this. Making up lies about feelings neither of you have.

The whole time you're talking, he can't seem to keep eye contact with you longer than a split second. You want to ask him what's wrong but you know it's weird enough with the tension in the room and he'll probably not respond well to any personal questions.

The rest of the night is spent working on a backstory well enough to fool Damien and Alfred. Unlike Bruce, they both focus on the small details when it comes to stuff like this.

Dick and the others won't be a problem because they'll be so happy with Jason having a actual relationship.

You tell Jason all of this and by the way his body immediately relaxes you can tell it eased a lot of his nerves.

You start to question whether or not this is something you really want to go through with. You're scared it could ruin your relationship with him if it goes wrong but on the other hand it truly does seem like his best chance.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 55

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You sigh in relief, that was close... too close, you almost had to think about some of the stuff you really don't want to aknowledge.... Hopefully Joel doesn't get funny ideas from that.

Sure, you might have gotten a slight bit attached to one mortal...or two...but it's just more fun this way! Yes! Nothing more to it. Nothing at all... And well you don't need to justify yourself to him anyway! Who is he to question you? ... Outside of like being the literal sky.

You are digging your metaphorical hole deeper at this point.

...

ANYWAY, It's time to go back to your vessel now, It's been a long enough time that it shouldn't be too weird for you to wake up... Well it might still be but at this point you are too bored to care.

You just give it a bit of a push and you open your eyes.

Ugh, It's way too bright in here and now that you are back inside the body the pain has somewhat returned, going to have to fix that at one point tll. You never understood why humans were made to be so fleshy and weak and sickly in the first place...

You push yourself up on the medical bef, the muscle mass in the arms is mostly intact with minimal athropy luckily, the legs are pretty much the same so not an horrible state by mortal standards at least... The door to the room opens, It's a nurse... She seems shocked to see you awake, she quickly dashes to your bedside to check on some monitors near you...then after a few minutes of questions that you really didn't care about she nods and leaves to make a call...

Soon after Cub burst trough the door, covered from head to toe in water.

"Grian? I was told you were up."

"That I am ..."

You should probably be asking questions right, they think you have been unconcious for the last week or so.

"... What happened? The uh nurse that found me when I woke up didn't explain much."

There! Perfect! Now he thinks you are clueless and your divinity is once more kept secret, good job you!

"You ...got shot protecting Hotguy from a sniper"

"And how long was I...?"

"Oh just... A bit more less then two weeks"

"Hmm."

...

The silence that follows is akward, you just want to get this over with so you can leave and the two of you barely know eachother... You really want to ask about what the associations current plans are for you but you can't just ask that, you already made Cub suspicious with the blood samples way before everything went down...

...Ok maybe you can phrase it in a non-suspicious way, It's a better option then laying on the bed for who knows how long.

"So... What now?"

"Uh?"

"Can I like ...leave now?" That should sound earnest enough hopefully.

"What?"

Cub is not the expressive type, you have gathered that from the little you have seen of him. This is not an exception, he just tilts his head before giggling a bit, you really can't tell if It's genuine or not.

"Grian, you just woke up from a coma you- you can't just...you can't just get up and leave."

"Oh..."

Well then, you messed it up, he's -

"Where would you even get that idea? Is that something you have done before? Wake up from a possibly life ending injury and just leave?"

There is a right answer is. . . You don't know what that is, you have no clue what he wants you to say. So you do a bit of gambling.

"Yes yes, many times, all the time"

His smile falters a bit, this somehow feels more like genuine confusion or thought...he just looks at you, did you say the wrong thing? You should have just done the mind reading trick... No, you gave yourself a challenge, if you just used all your powers this wouldn't be any fun anymore.

...

He doesn't even say anything else he just keeps looking, you tilt your head a bit and it seems to bring him back.

"Right... Well, I'll be speaking with the medical staff then."

"Sure."

He slowly gets up and after a few seconds goes to open the door and leave... He stops just as he reaches for the door.

"And Grian?"

"Yeah?"

"Scar is worried, should -"

"Tell him to come by."

"Alright"

And like that he's gone.

*End of Chapter 10*

[distant-velleity]

LMAO i lied im answering all these at once. woohoo!

(warning for VERY unreliable narration in certain questions)

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

“That’s kind of personal, isn’t it? Well, good thing you asked me, the most normal person here. Kidding, kidding.”

Yuhua lives with his parents right now. His sister, an alumnus of the school, is away at university. They are a perfectly happy family. There is nothing wrong. Nothing. 

(Yuhua lives with an emotionally manipulative mother and conservative father, and returns to a dysfunctional household that is filled with silence, phone calls, or arguments every day. Of course, he would never admit any of this to anyone but his friends, and even then nothing more than a slight hint or complaint that tells nothing of the bigger picture. Yuhua himself is not in the best mental state as a result, due to placing pressure on himself to perform well so his parents don’t get on his case, and he maintains a thin thread of control on his demeanor.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

“She looks kind of lonely… I feel bad. No wonder she’s so into… Oops! That’s not my thing to tell. But I do think she could benefit from some friends.”

The quote is probably self-explanatory of what he thinks (assuming he hasn’t caught her doing anything suspicious, and has only ever seen her pretend to fawn over Azul). He recognizes that she’s always alone, but he’s also like. World’s worst introvert trying to masquerade as world’s worst extrovert, so… he hasn’t (yet) taken any steps to make the first move and interact with her. It probably doesn’t help that it looks like neither of them bother with more than small talk with others.

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

“That guy? …Doesn’t it seem like he’s suddenly got a lot of admirers nowadays? I mean, I can see the appeal—hardworking, intelligent… But I don’t think I could ever date anyone on the student council. Guess those guys can shoot their shots if they want.”

If you couldn’t tell from the quote, he… thinks middlingly of Azul, and has like 0 romantic interest in him at all lol. Of course, Yuhua respects anyone with good grades and good conduct, of which Azul meets all the criteria, but that’s it. I wouldn’t say he ever met Azul so much as he’s heard of him (what with being in the same year and Azul being on the student council), and seen him around. 

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

About Floyd:

“...That guy. There’s no point in associating myself with him.”

(if this is okay) They’ve been in the same class for two years in a row now, purely by chance. Yuhua knows him as the careless, genius lackey of Azul. His disorderly and sometimes disrespectful conduct only grates Yuhua when there’s something that needs to be done, but otherwise Yuhua would be content to let him live his life and let their paths never cross. Even that one time he went into the gym after club activities to practice his lines and saw Floyd practicing his basketball skills non-stop—Even when Floyd puts in the work to pass a test almost effortlessly, then decides the next one isn’t worth the nonexistent effort—Even when Floyd is free to do whatever he wants, his actions and comments constantly broadening Yuhua’s restricted worldview—Even… when…

…even when Yuhua’s nursing something of a hopeless, helpless crush on him. And that’s it. It’s no fairytale love, it’s no novel-worthy romance. It’ll never take flight—Yuhua will take this secret with him to the grave because of that. He knows he’s not enough to catch and keep Floyd’s attention; at most he’s just a classmate who Floyd thinks it’s funny to talk to and annoy sometimes because he tries to look like a goody-two-shoes in a less angry way than Riddle.

“It’s not a crush, because I won’t get that crushing disappointment when he finds out and is disgusted by my very existence.”

About Vizzie ( @twistedwonderlandshenanigans ):

“...She’s got a good heart.”

They’re… friends. Acquaintances. Something. Does he really know how to define it? Now that Vizzie doesn’t care as much about her grades and Yuhua’s just went on to prioritize himself, or something, what was probably a friendship has… not stayed a friendship. He goes on with his reputation-building act, while she does her own thing. Yeah. Yeah—He’s fine with it. It’s what they both want, and he’s not going to interfere with her choices. It’s fine. Right? (He doesn’t want to think about it.)

It definitely doesn’t bother him that now that she’s “fallen off” and protected herself with a poor reputation, she seems… more free. It ABSOLUTELY does not bother him that she’s such easy “friends” with Floyd. It doesn’t bother him that unlike with Floyd, everything about Vizzie’s day-to-day existence and circumstances proves that something is inherently wrong with Yuhua himself. It doesn’t bother him that her everything proves that everything about him, from personality to looks to grades, is inferior and unlikeable. It doesn’t bother him that, because she’s so closed-off now, the unspoken truth is that he wasn’t enough for something like an actual friendship. It. Doesn’t. Bother. Him. 

About Riddle:

“...Oh, that guy.”

Sure, he can respect someone like Riddle. Someone who’s at the top of their class, is on the student council—Yeah, sure, whatever. It’s because of people like him that Yuhua doesn’t try too hard, anyway. It just isn’t fun. It’s not worth his time, to be constantly outclassed. And his attitude, too—part of the reason Yuhua would never run for student council. If he was aware of Riddle’s situation, he’d be more sympathetic, but as things are he just can’t quite stand Riddle’s attitude. 

Let overachievers have their fun, is Yuhua’s opinion. He’s fine to be a middling fish in a small pond while people like Riddle try to be big fish. They’re fellow second-years, but that doesn’t mean they have to care about each other. They probably don’t interact much on a meaningful level because of Riddle’s duties and Yuhua’s opinions, and if they do—it’s Yuhua being polite and saying all the things Riddle wants to hear.

(if you’re willing to establish OC dynamics, let me know and I can add Yuhua’s thoughts here! I just don’t like to add/conceptualize dynamics with canon characters because I’m scared of stepping on toes abkjsdkfgjskfd)

5. What grade/year is your OC?

“I’m part of the worst year, in case you’re wondering. Hehe. Just kidding.”

Aging him up by just one year for this AU— He’s 17, a second-year. 

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

“Goals? Eh… Passing this year with the best grades I can get.”

He doesn’t have any true goals, and it makes him anxious. His main objective is just… passing the school year, staying on good terms with everyone… That’s it. It’s all very short-term, school-related. He doesn’t have enough faith in himself to actually achieve a long-term life goal.

“As for life? Ask me again in, like… a year.” 

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

“...What? This is ridiculous. Do you just accept any kind of evidence nowadays? …No. Don’t answer that. Sorry. But I know I’m innocent.”

Yuhua is counting on others to vouch for him, both for an alibi and for his character; it’s situations like these that are the reason why he’s so intent on networking and maintaining good relationships with everyone. Knowing that his future and record are on the line, he’s absolutely going to plead his case however he can, trying to argue about the evidence, et cetera…

“Isn’t there anyone else who could have been responsible? In fact…”

If he’s ever caught Quartz doing something suspicious, he’s definitely throwing her under the bus now. If people grill him for not reporting it right away, well…

“I was just—scared at the time, you know? I didn’t know what she was going to do to me if I tattled… I’m really sorry, but what matters is that I’m the one telling the truth now.”

This might be one of the rare situations where people see him genuinely lose the easygoing act.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

“Huh? Pockets? What pockets? I didn’t see anything.”

He’ll turn a blind eye, unless there’s a situation wherein he can actually benefit from reporting her. 

“In any case… It’s not my business right now. Let people do what people want as long as it doesn’t affect me, yeah?”

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

“Come on, don’t ask me questions like that. I’m only ever where I should be.”

Yuhua always goes to class, and always shows up on time. He has people he can’t disappoint, even himself. When he’s not in class, he’s (usually) in the drama club room; before classes start for the day, at lunch, and so on.  

10. How are your OC's grades?

“Passable.”

He gets pretty good grades. I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily competitive, nor at the very top of his class, but he tries to stay above “average.” He’s got a natural edge to memorizing and regurgitating information, so getting good grades isn’t hard for him, but… you know. If he tried a little harder…

(No Yan Sim AU) Questions for OCs! + Quartz and other characters' lore

You don't have to do these if you don't want to! You can write and answer how ever you want (3rd person or as the OC)

These answers are just examples and they also give lore to other TWST characters in the AU

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Riddle currently lives with his mother. Because of her influence, he is the strictest in the student council (which consists of the dormleaders.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

[You can yap about it here since I already used Quartz as an example in the fourth question]

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Jade is Azul's right hand man. He assists Azul with a lot of student council work and is mostly by his side with Floyd. They are friends from their middle school days and up to their highschool days (although the three of them won't admit it).

Jade found Azul's hardwork and scheming nature very exciting so he and his brother always stayed by Azul's side to see what fun events would happen.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

[They are speaking about Quartz as example]

Floyd: "Who again?"

Floyd doesn't really acknowledge Quartz since she's so quick out of his sights. Genuinely believes there isn't a person named that but is suspicious.

Jade: "Oh, that shy girl? She's a little funny."

Definitely suspicious of Quartz but they don't interact much so he has no other information about her. He probably needs to be more skillful when studying her.

Riddle: "Quartz?.. Uh.. I-I don't recall who that is."

Quartz rarely interacts with Riddle.

Ace: "Ah? You mean that girl who's always so weird? I've seen her watch Azul. Pffftt! Do you think she likes him?"

He notices her sometimes because he thinks her appearance is a little flashy.

Idia: "I-Isn't she one of Azul's admirers?... She's the shy type right? She's a little strange though.. Sometimes she takes photos of me! W-Wait.. Maybe she's into me instead?! EEEKK!! H-HOW SCARY!!"

Completely misunderstands Quartz's actions but he's quick to know how weird her actions are. He stays away from her if Azul isn't present.

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Azul, Jade, and Floyd are all 2nd years (17).

Leona has been held back so he is still 20.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Quartz wishes to kill Azul ��

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Floyd is jumping her.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Riddle is absolutely reporting that! He's calling the cops and everything 🫡🫡🫡

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Quartz is always in class but she'll come right before the bell rings since she was.. busy. She doesn't have a particular place she goes to all the time. She's never in one spot.

Quartz's lunch spot varies because she's always spying but her usual spot is in the courtyard.

Riddle is assigned being a hall monitor so he usually watches the halls when he is able to. He usually eats lunch with Trey and Cater.

Leona is always found napping under trees and skipping his classes. Ruggie manages to find him and give him his lunch from the cafeteria.

Rook is watching you.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Deuce tries, ok. (Awful)

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter nineteen: "Date night"

Summary: It's Spencer and (Y/N)'s last day at work, but before they can retire and live happily ever after, there is one last psycho they have to catch. 

Warnings: A lot of curses and angst, some funny comebacks and most of all, spoilers of season 15 E6. 

Word count: 12.240

A/N: I never liked Max. I'm not even sorry she wasn't a part of this story. Spencer deserved better than a character written just to give him the hint of a love interest that was never heard of again. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Spencer’s point of view

And all that happened to us in the last few years led us here. Today is our last working day at the BAU. (Y/N) and I step out of our car and head to the elevator in silence. You think you won’t miss it, but I know I will feel melancholic about all this in a few years. However, we both had enough. We are glad to finally be gone.

Prentiss understood our reasons for leaving the team. However, it hadn’t been an easy conversation. We all shed a few tears when we sat with her in her office and announced our decision.

- “I can’t say I’m shocked”- Emily said and paused for a second to rearrange her thoughts after we delivered the news.- “After everything you two have been through… a part of me knew it was a matter of time. But at the same time, I don’t think I can imagine this place without you two. You are part of this family.”

- “And we will always be. But there is another family, with tiny babies, that needs us now.”- my wife added and wiped the tears from her cheeks.- “This wasn’t an easy decision for us, but we won't change our minds.”

- “I know you won’t. It’s a shame for the team, but I am glad for you two. You deserve a new start.”

- “Thank you, Em.”- I nodded at her words and sighed, relieved.

- “And what’s the plan now?”

- “We were offered full-time positions in Georgetown.”- you could hear the happiness in my reply.- “I’ll be with the Research Department and (Y/N) will be teaching two courses during the next semester.”

- “Wow!”- Prentiss was surprised and the tone in her voice betrayed her.- “Sounds exactly like what you two should be doing.”

- “I’m sorry Em, are you mad at us?”- my wife asked directly.- “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you said you were happy for us and yet you sound disappointed.”

- “No, no, (Y/N). I’m really happy for you, it’s just that… I have to ask you this.”- of course, she would address the pink elephant in the room.- “Is it all this because of JJ’s confession back in Los Angeles?”

The silence in that room was so awkward and deep, that nothing could break it. I could deny it, of course, but it felt useless. But before I could reply, (Y/N) did.

- “That was the last straw, I’m not gonna lie.”- my wife replied and stared at Emily straight in the eyes, showing her she was telling the truth with no hesitation.- “But we weren’t happy before that… incident. We had considered leaving a few times before, after JJ’s confession it was clear we couldn’t delay our departure any longer.”

I moved my hand and reached hers, holding it on her lap.

- “If that hadn’t happened, we would have left anyway.”- I confirmed.- “This conversation was going to happen, no matter what.”

- “I understand, and I’m sorry.”- Emily whispered.- “I know the last few months haven’t been comfortable to deal for both of you”

- “It’s not your fault.”- I replied.- “And, like (Y/N) said, we are not leaving because of her. It’s… everything. Our time here is done. And now we have to start a new stage for our family. One where we can assure our kids we will be home every night for dinner, and that we won’t miss any important date.”

Emily walked to us as we both stood up. My wife hugged her first, with tears on her face.

- “Just promise you’ll still be around.”- Prentiss asked.

- “You don’t get rid of us, I swear”- (Y/N) replied and chuckled.- “You might not be our boss for much longer, but we are family forever.”

That was a month ago, and today, my wife and I are walking into the bullpen holding hands for one last time.

- “Ok, this is not what I was expecting.”- (Y/N) whispers looking around.- “It’s not like I was waiting for a party or something, but… everything is just so normal.”- and I chuckle at her words.

- “It’s eight in the morning, chipmunk. People have to work.”- I joke and leave my bag on my desk just the minute Emily’s voice calls our name from outside the conference room.

- “Now we are talking”- (Y/N) says and quickly heads to the stairs.- “I’m sure Pen baked us some cupcakes for our last day’s breakfast.”

- “Maybe even a cake”- I tease her. But as soon as we notice Emily’s serious face, we realize something bad is happening. Rossi is there as well, staring at us with an apologetic look.

- “What happened?”- I ask right away and Prentiss turns on the tv.

- “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server”- and just like that, the image of two people tied to a chair, clearly frightened, appeared on the screen. Right in the middle of them, the unsub, showing her face and holding a gun.

- “She is not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”- Rossi adds. My wife crosses her arms on her chest staring at the screen before asking.

- “Any ideas on the victims or unsub?”

- “No. Only the unsub's demand.”- Emily pauses, grabs a case file, and gives it to me. - “That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.”

I stare at Prentiss and Rossi in shock for a moment. They can’t be serious. It’s our last day.

- “I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions.”- Em announces and my stomach drops at her words.- “This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

- “What do you mean if we want to play it?”- and that’s when (Y/N) reacts.- “We are leaving today. We don’t have time to play any random game with a serial killer.”

- “We know that, (Y/N). But you have to understand the lives of two innocent are at risk.”- Rossi immediately explains the obvious.- “And when it comes to Cat Adams, her only weakness is the man you call your husband. We need you two to crack this case as fast as possible.”

Dealing with Cat Adams is the last thing I want on my last day as an SSA. And yet, somehow, it makes sense that this happened today. It’s exactly why we are leaving.

- “I can’t believe this.”- (Y/N) whispers as she sits at her desk. I stay by her side and rest my hands on her shoulder. She is right, this is the worst way to finish my seventeen years of active service with the FBI.

- “At least we know it’s our last case.”- I caress her shoulder and my wife pouts in response.- “I know this is not how we thought it would be, but tonight we are going home to start our new life. Don’t forget that.”

- “Reid.”- Alvez walks over and both me and my wife look at him.- “Garcia was catching me up about the case. Who is Cat Adams?”

- “My nemesis.”- (Y/N) says and sighs.- “Another crazy psycho in love with Spencer.”

- “She is not in love with me.”- the way my wife turns to look at me raising an eyebrow in disbelief could be comical in another scenario. - “She is not!”- I add just to make sure I’ve made my point.

- “No? Are you sure? That bitch even tried to convince you she was pregnant with your kid.”

- “What?”- Luke is shocked.- “How did she even try to do that?”

- “Not important right now.”- I reply ‘cos I don’t wanna remember that moment. - “Cat Adams is a psychopath who is used to getting away with what she wants.”

- “And she wants you.”- my wife points at me and makes a pause the second JJ walks over to us along with Prentiss.- “I am so sick and tired of bitches trying to get my man…”

- “She is here.”- Emily announces and asks me to walk with her to the interrogation room to wait for Adams.

I hold my wife’s hand and kiss it sweetly as I look at her and try to make her feel secure and safe. I know how much (Y/N) hates Cat. I am not a fan myself, she kidnapped and tried to kill my mother. But I know my wife feels threatened by her in a way, and I don’t know why. I can not stop it either, I’ve tried. So I want her to understand nothing and no one is more important than her and our kids.

(Y/N) wraps her arms around me and I hold her tight against me.

- “Last day.”- I whisper as I rest my forehead against her and hear her hum.- “I’ll be right back.”

- “Take care.”- I kiss her lips and cut her a short smile before I follow Prentiss.

I know I’m not going to like this.

I wait for Adams in the interrogation room. Prentiss is on the other side of the glass, and I know my wife will be there in a second. I do my best to look relaxed, and only a tad annoyed when Adams is walked into the room, in chains. I am not going to let her know how angry she gets me. I will never give her that pleasure.

She is in a mask, which reminds me of Hannibal Lecter, from The Silence of the Lambs. It seems useless to put that on her. I don’t think she will try to eat me.

Her eyes are on me from the second she steps in until she is seated, and she even smiles for a second, pleased.

The guards leave and we both stay quiet for a moment. I stand there, staring at her, unimpressed. Just annoyed.

- “Classic negotiating technique.”- she says after a few seconds. - “The first one who speaks loses, right?”

I don’t move, hands in my pocket, unthreatened by her presence and actions. I just stand there and tell her what will happen.

- “You arranged the kidnapping of two people and you did it the same way you did it before, through a partner on the outside. But her demand, "release Cat Adams," that will never happen. So, tell me what you want right now before I send you back to prison.”

- “Oh! You don't know, do you?”- she looks surprised like I missed something important.- “I stopped fighting.

- “Fighting what?”- I look at the ceiling and sigh, already tired of the conversation.

- “The United States versus Catherine Adams.”- she announces and stares at me waiting for a reaction. She doesn’t get any.- “I had my lawyer plead guilty to all 73 counts. And request the death penalty.”

- “Oh, you've grown a conscience now? I don't think so.”- if she thinks I’m gonna feel sorry for her, she must be really crazy.

- “I'm bored, ok? Boooored.”- somehow, she looks sincere about it. - “Death has to be more interesting than this. But it is funny, you know, when you’re counting the days left, you really do ask yourself, "What didn't I do?" And the only thing I could come up with was…”- she makes a short pause and sighs, to finally turn and stare at me with a smile. - “You.”

- “You haven't done me?”- I ask calmly and take a few steps closer to the table, hands still in my pocket. - “And you think by kidnapping two people you are gonna get what you want?”

- “Do I ever get what I want with you?”- she stares at me as I just raise an eyebrow and wait for her to answer the question herself.- “Besides, your wife must be at the other side of the glass fighting the urges to kill me, and we don't have a lot of time.”

- “For what?”

- “I would like to go on a date. With you.”

I can say I’m surprised. I didn’t think she was this mental.

- “A date?”- I stare at her in disbelief and she smiles.

- “Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun! And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

I finally sit in front of her and lean in on the table.

- “Come here.”- I say and lean even more- “Closer.”- she moves and stares into my eyes the entire time, something that might have been incredibly intimidating for me a few years ago. But today, as my last day in the BAU, Cat Adams is not a threat.

- “The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”- I whisper and she just stares at me, smiling, looking from my eyes to my lips as I lean back and keep my annoyed facade.

- “You're gonna let a father and daughter die? I don't think so.”- and just like that, she makes her first mistake.

- “I never said father and daughter. You're already slipping. We'll find them. We always do.”- I stand up, annoyed by the conversation and ready to share my intel with the team.

- “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”- she announces from her chair. I stay still for a second, taking a deep breath before I turn and reply with a serious voice.

- “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.”

I turn around and open the door. Before I close it behind my back, I hear her saying “Nice to see you, too, Spencie.” and it takes everything in me not to slam that door on my way out.

Cat Adams kidnapped a father and a daughter just to go out on a date with me? She has to be crazy if she thinks she can get away with it! She is ruining our last day of work torturing two people just for a pity whim. I hate that woman in ways I could never explain. And to think this was supposed to be the best day for me and my wife.

My poor wife. She must be even angrier than I am.

I walk into an empty interrogation office and take off my tie in a poor attempt to calm the sudden anger that fills my body. I don’t wanna deal with this, I just wanna leave. I don’t wanna be targeted by a psychotic narcissist again. Again! I just wanna make my wife happy, and give her the life she deserves. That we both deserve after all these years. And this bitch comes and ruins everything!

I lose it for a second and smash everything that’s upon a small piece of furniture. Lamps, books, whatever was on it gets trashed against the floor in a second.

- “I was gonna ask if you were ok, but I can see you are not.”- (Y/N) whispers from the door as she stares at me. Anyone else would be shocked to see me act that way. I don’t think anyone has ever seen me lose it physically. She, instead, just opens her arms and takes a few steps closer, as I rest my body against hers and feel her embracing me completely.

- “You don’t have to go out with her.”- she whispers sweetly.

- “I wanna kill her.”- I confess and bury my face in her neck, ashamed of my own anger.

- “Not if I kill her first.”- she replies immediately, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

- “I’m not joking.”

- “We are both carrying guns, hon. And we both have enough motives. I know we are not joking.”- (Y/N) answers and moves her hands until she is holding my face, staring into my eyes with so much love and care, that I could melt. - “That bitch tried to kill your mom and managed to torture us and our family. She won’t get what she wants.”

- “She wants to…”- but she shakes her head before I can finish talking.

- “She wants you. I will never let her have you.”

- “I don’t want her. I just want you. Forever.”- I whisper and kiss her lips as soon as I’m done speaking.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I never really imagined my last day at work could be in the top ten of my worst days at the BAU. But it’s quickly getting to the hot top five. If I didn’t want to deal with JJ anymore, now I have to deal with her and Cat Adams at the same freaking time. I know, I am a grown almost forty-year-old FBI SSA who should act like an adult at this point. But I am tired. Exhausted. I just wanna go home with my husband and raise our kids. Is that too much to ask?

Spencer and I sit at the conference room’s table as the team debates what’s going on. A part of me is still in the car with Spencer, going over the last fifteen years we’ve spent together in the FBI. Reliving the memories and talking about our favorite moments. Not here, discussing what to do with Cat Adams. Of all people, why did it have to be Cat Adams?

- “Victimology's off.”- Spencer says and Prentiss questions him right away.- “Father and daughter. She's never done that before.”

- “Yes, she usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children, even adult children, are off limits.”- Tara adds in support. - “Do we have an I.D. yet?”

- “No.”- Pen replies immediately, and you can read the angst all over her face.- “No one's even reported these two as missing. You'd think a wife, a mom, someone would notice.”

- “What do we know about the partner who was helping her?”- Rossi asks. Yet, none of that is what really bothers me.

- “It's got to be someone from her prison. She hasn't had contact with anyone else.”- Simmons replies.- “We can start with known associates who were recently released.”

- “Ok, can I tell you what's bugging me?”- JJ asks and I don’t bite my tongue in time. I can see everyone’s face changing as I say:

- “The fact an unsub has more chances of going out on a date with Spencer than you do?”

- “(Y/N)!”- Emily widened her eyes, shocked by my words.

- “Sorry, but I already quit. This is just a bonus.”- I reply with an evil grin, enjoying making my ex-friend uncomfortable. She deserves it, no doubt.

- “It’s the fact every time we've gone up against Cat, there's the presenting agenda and the hidden one.”- JJ just keeps talking, ignoring my words.

- “We know that”- I add, in a clearly annoyed tone of voice.- “This woman has always been a few steps ahead. That’s her modus operandi. We have to figure it out before we make any decision.”

- “Well, if she sticks to the pattern, this isn't just about going on a date with Spence.”- JJ looks at me as she speaks, so mad I could laugh. Who the hell does she think she is to even try to look angry at me. She should be glad I haven’t hurt her. Bitch.

- “Right now, she's a fixed variable.”- Prentiss replies.- “We need to focus on identifying the unsub and her victims.”

Spencer and I stand outside the interrogation room as Prentiss talks with Cat one more time. Neither of us says a word for a few minutes, but he still holds my hand tight and keeps me close to him.

- “You shouldn’t be so aggressive with JJ.”- I hear him whisper and I just stare at him, clearly annoyed. I don’t understand why he would say such a thing if he knows that woman triggers me each time she stands too close to him.

- “Right. Why is that?”

- “She is your friend.”- he has to be kidding.

- “She was.”- I correct him quickly- “You know she lost my friendship the day she said she loved you.”

- “I don’t like her that way. Why do you wanna hold a grudge against her?”

- “Because I always knew she had feelings for you. Ever since I started liking you.”- I sigh and turn to him. He looks so tired and defeated by the situation, I don’t think I wanna have this conversation right now. - “Fine, I won’t be a bitch with her until we solve this case.”

- “Thank you…”

- “I’m not happy about this being about Cat either.”

- “It’s not my ideal last case either…”

Our conversation ends because Prentiss walks out of the interrogation room and stares at us, clearly frustrated and most of all, annoyed.

- “So, what does the princess of madness want?”- the words come out filled with bitterness as I stare at my friend. She bites her lips before she tells us:

- “She wants to go ice skating, so she can skate circles around Spence. She is wasting our time.”

- “Bitch is mental.”- I whisper and look at her, alone in that room. In no scenario that psycho can or will go out on a date with my husband. Again…

- “Ok, something weird happened, but it could be a lead.”- Garcia shows up and looks at us in honest concern.- “I just got a bazillion voicemail messages, all from the same address on Fourth Street.”

I drive with Alvez and Lewis to the address Garcia gives us. I need a moment away from Cat Adams because I’m starting to believe she will somehow get away with it today, and she will go out on a date with Spencer. I don’t think I could deal with that.

- “Are you ok back there?”- Luke asks as he parks outside the house.

- “Yeah. I just need a little more coffee.”

- “Sure babe.”- Lewis raises an eyebrow and shakes her head.- “Lying to profilers, are you sure you wanna do that?”

- “Just keep me away from Cat so I leave today without killing any more people.”

- “Yes ma'am.”- Luke got out of the car but Tara stayed a few more minutes with me.

- “Reid, keep your eyes on the goal. It’s your last day on the team, don’t let Cat Adams ruin it for you.”

- “I keep telling myself that, but it’s hard when all she demands is a date with your husband.”- I simply confess ‘cos it’s not like it’s a secret.

- “We are gonna find this family and Cat is gonna go back to her cell, and most importantly, you are gonna go home with Spencer tonight and start the rest of your life together. Nothing will change that, ok? So don’t let any bitch get into your mind. Ok?”

I hold my friend’s hand and nod. Sometimes, all you need is a little empowerment from a friend to kick ass.

The whole street is filled with wanted posters looking for Susan. Yes, like the 80s movie. It’s breadcrumbs and it means to follow Cat’s game, but if we want to find that family, we’ll have to find who that Susan is.

When we get back to the BAU, the team has news: they know who Cat’s sidekick is. It was her old cellmate, Juliette Weaver, freed only six months ago. They had a lot in common, other than sharing cells and being besties, both their dads had killed their mothers. And we all know what trauma bonding does to psychopaths. It encourages them to do even crazier shit.

Matt says Susan is no other than Cat’s mother, and this is when I know she is not playing. We are about to go straight into her trap. But we have nothing else. As always, she is five steps ahead.

- “You are gonna have to go out with her.”- I whisper as I walk with Spencer to the interrogatory room one more time. He just shakes his head and holds my hand.

- “The only date I have tonight is with you and our bed after we solve this case and go home.”

- “She will only make a mistake if she is alone with you. If you go out with her and go fucking ice skating or whatever it is that she wants to do, we’ll get a chance to find that family.”- I hate saying this, but it’s the truth.

- “Chipmunk, I’ll try to talk to her one more time. If this doesn’t work, we’ll find another way.”

- “There’s not enough time.”- I whisper and sigh.- “I just don’t want her to get what she wants.”

- “She would never.”- Spencer stops walking and stares at me.- “I love you.”

- “I love you too.”

His arms wrap around me and keep me close to him for a few seconds. I feel his lips on the top of my head and I just sigh. Is it bad that I just wanna call him mine and only mine? No one can have him. He is my husband, the father of my kids… I am being obsessive and possessive, but can you blame me? Bitches keep falling for him and trying to steal him from me.

Spencer’s point of view

I am tired. Frustrated. Angry. I just wanna get this over with and go home. Instead, I have to talk to Cat Adams one more time.

- “Somehow you did it.”- I walk to her and she just sits by the table, not even looking at me, she just stares at the wall, looking like she is bored out of her mind.

- “You found what I couldn't. You found your father and you must have been furious when you discovered that he started over. Had another daughter. And that is why you deviated from your usual victimology. It wasn't enough to just hurt him. You had to hurt her, too.”

I finish my speech and crouch down by her side. And she just ignores every single word. Until she finally looks at me and asks.

- “When are we going ice skating?”

- “We're not going ice skating. You know, we've been asking ourselves this whole time what your hidden agenda was, but you tipped it when you said that you were gonna win tonight. Even if I let you out of here, you'll still kill them.”

I keep my eyes on her the entire time I talk, but she shows no emotion, no remorse. Nothing. She just stares back at me and pouts.

- “So, no ice skating?”

- “No ice skating.”

As I stand up and walk to the door, she says one more thing. One that gets me in a worse mode ‘cause of course she still has more surprises.

- “You should tell Garcia to check her email.”

Garcia has a video of Cat’s sidekick, Juliette, firing blanks at the father, right in front of his daughter. We all watch it and Emily ends up saying what my wife had suggested a few hours ago. That I should go out on a date with Cat and wait until she trips. ‘Cause apparently she always trips up with me.

- “Absolutely no.”- I stare at Rossi and Prentiss ‘cause I can’t understand why they are suggesting this.- “There is no way I am doing this.”

- “If we give Cat what she wants, we can profile what she says on the date. She always trips up. She always reveals her Achilles heel.”- Emily says as she looks me right in the eyes, trying to convince me.

- “And she always does it with you.”- Rossi adds. I feel my wife holding my hand and I turn to look at her.

- “I told you so.”- she whispers.

- “I don’t want to go.”- I reply in a soft voice.

- “We are gonna be three steps ahead of her this time.”- (Y/N) assures me and cuts me a short smile.- “Or I’ll kill her. Whatever happens first.”

It takes Cat an hour to get ready for our “date.” Meanwhile, I prepare every detail with the team and Emily convinces (Y/N) not to go with us, instead, Luke will tag along.

- “Why do you think I will let my husband go out with a serial killer alone?”- my wife asks, raising an eyebrow.

- “(Y/N), if you go, Cat will be mad and it might probably ruin the entire thing.”- Prentiss replies and tries to calm her down.- “Luke will be there the entire time, and we’ll…”

- “No! Last time she was on a date with him, he ended up being kidnapped.”

- “I was not kidnapped.”- I argue, though she is somehow right.

- “You were kept against your will at gunpoint at a table playing a sick game in a restaurant that had a bomb. How do you call that? Game night?”- (Y/N) looks at me, annoyed. Why is it that I find it sweet that she gets jealous and worried? I can’t tell her that now ‘cause she is clearly angry. But she looks adorable right now. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.

- “Nothing bad will happen, chipmunk.”- I whisper and kiss the tip of her nose.- “I’ll always come back home to you.”

- “She is ready. Let’s go.”- Tara announces from the door, so I take a deep breath and get ready to pick up my date.

We walk to the elevator outside the bullpen. The entire floor is filled with agents and high-security cops. Cat holds my arm as we walk and I just look straight ahead, trying not to acknowledge her. But I know she is smiling, enjoying her moment of triumph.

I can see my wife, arms crossed against her chest, standing along with the rest of the team. I just look at her as I walk past her and try to tell her how much I love her, that I’ll be back soon, and that I love her more than my own life. She looks at me for a moment and then stares at Cat with pure hate. I might need to make it up to her for this whole thing.

Luke and a SWAT team are waiting for us in the elevator. I really don’t wanna do this and I hate the fact there is no other way.

- “Don’t wait up!”- Cat says with a cheeky smile and somehow I know she is staring at my wife, probably ‘cause fire and knives are coming from her eyes as she stares at us. I wish I could tell her how sorry I am to put her through this whole thing. Now the door is closed and I’m on a date with Cat Adams.

In my head, I list all the things I’m gonna do tomorrow on my first day outside the BAU. I’m gonna make my wife breakfast in bed, then I’m gonna take her and the kids out for lunch, maybe we could go to the zoo or to the library.

- “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”- Cat’s voice takes me from my head and forces me back into reality. I’m in the back of a SWAT van with two officials. I try to stay focused on the plan and ignore her completely. Of course, she just keeps talking.

- “What ice skating rink are we going to?”- still no answer.- “Spencie.”

- “Don't call me that.”- I give her a stern look and then look away.

- “God, your parents are so strict.”- she jokes and looks at the officials.

I hate every second of this.

- “This isn't what I wanted.”- Cat’s tantrum starts the second we get off the van and she realizes this is a roller skating rink, not ice skating. As expected.

- “It's the best I could do.”- I reply and place my hands in my pockets. I did, in fact, nothing for this date.

- “It's not what I want.”

- “Skating is skating. What does it matter?”

- “It matters because if I asked to hang out with a bunch of sixth graders, I would have asked to come here, but I didn't, did I?”

- “We put in the request, Cat, and the answer was no.”- I explain once.

- “Why?”

- “Because we can't risk giving you access to a bladed tool.”- I explain twice, and I’m losing my patience.

- “What? I'm gonna use an ice skate to slice your neck open? Grow up”- two guns clock behind her and she doesn't even bother- “Relax.”

- “It's out of my hands. It's either this or nothing.”

- “Then nothing.”- she replies defiantly.

- “Fine.”- I say and shrug.

- “Fine.”

- “Get back in the van.”- I command.

- “I will.”

- “Had something special planned for our anniversary but whatever, forget it.”

I delivered that line as casually as possible, trying to make it sound like I was sorry she was gonna miss my surprise. When my wife said this time we were going to be three steps ahead of her, she wasn’t lying. She realized we had met Cat this month a few years ago, making it technically our anniversary.

- “You remembered?”- and it worked, ‘cause Cat turns to me surprised.

- “Of course, I remembered, but this date is over, so, let's get back in the van.”- I try to help her inside the van, but she is very curious.

- “No, no, no, no. I want to see it. Come on. I want to see it.”

- “Give me something.”- I demand immediately.

- “No.”

- “Yes. Give me something to help find your dad and half-sister.”- I insist, staring at her and trying not to look as annoyed and tired as I am.

- “Twenty-three.”

- “That's nothing. Give me something better.”- I demand, knowing the team is listening.

- “You're smart. You'll figure it out.”- she pauses, not moving from her spot, and then repeats.- “Let's go. I want to see it. Let's go.”

And so, we start walking. I sigh and most nonchalantly, I reach out for her hand, just like my wife suggested. I can't believe she asked me to do this.

- “Hold my hand. It's dark inside.”

- “You know we just had our first fight, right?”- there’s some pride in that sentence. She wants us to act like we are a couple, ‘cause maybe in her head, we already are. I wanna be done with this.

As soon as we step inside, Cat starts complaining again.

- “God, it smells so gross in here. That's why I hate roller rinks.”- but I just ignore her.

- “Luke, can you hear me?”- I say and look up at the DJ booth.

- “Loud and clear.”- he replies in the speaker. The whole room fills with his voice. I’m glad I am not alone.

- “Light it up.”

- “Got it.”

The entire room lights up, some random song I didn’t pick starts playing, and a massive sigh lightens and you can read “Spencie and Cat Forever.”

- “Spencie”- Cat seems to be impressed, even delighted and touched by my gesture. I try not to smile pleased, thinking my wife’s idea is working. I married the most brilliant woman in the world.

- “I'm a size 7 skate.”

This is a bad moment to face the fact I can’t skate. I failed with the skateboard every time Frank and Mikey tried to teach me, but that was probably ‘cause we always tried to do it when we were drunk. And right now, I am failing with the skates. Cat is enjoying her moment, sliding from one corner to the other with elegance and ease. Meanwhile, I am struggling to stand and move forward without smashing my face on the ground.

- “What's up?”- she asks as she shows up next to me- “Can you skate backward?”

- “I can barely skate forward.”- I confess ‘cause you can see the struggle I’m in.

- “Really? Just look up.”- and I do, well, I look up to the ceiling and she chuckles.- “Not that far.”- Cat holds my arm and helps me. This whole thing is ridiculous and I end up chuckling.

- “Someone having fun?”- I don’t reply, but keep smiling ‘cos at some level, this whole thing could be fun. -“I'm having fun. If your stupid chaperone wasn't here, I would ask the DJ to put on some Savage Garden for the guy-girl skate and we could totally make out.”

Cat smiles at me as she helps me skate, holding my arm.

- “You, uh, you realize what I have to do, right?”- I ask because I can’t drag this conversation any longer.

- “Um, let me think. Ask me a bunch of pointed questions and hope that I trip up? Go ahead. Ask away.”

I know I have to play Cat the right way, she knows I want to rescue her father and half-sister, but that won't come from a direct question. So instead, I ask:

- “What happened to your baby?”- and it works.

- “What?”- she definitely didn’t see that question coming, because her eyes and voice are filled with anger and hurt in a second.

- “The last time I saw you, you were pregnant with someone else's baby that you said was mine.”- I simply add trying to be casual.

- “Why are you asking me about that? I don't want to talk about that.”

- “Hormonal changes during pregnancy expand the brain's capacity for empathy. I was actually just trying to see if I could use it against you.”- it’s not the honest reason, but I think it works.

- “Oh, really? What about, um, sex?”

No. My strategy didn’t work. Now she wants to find me unprepared. She moves and crushes her body against me and stares right into my eyes, trying to read the effect she has on me. I hold her in place and stare at her, glad there are no cameras here, just audio to report back to the team.

- “Why don't you use that against me?”

It’s far from a pleasant image if you ask me to be honest. Sex will only seem tempting if it’s with the woman I love, and as much as I try to hide my contempt, I fail. Cat moves away from me and stares at me with pure hate. Then, she slaps me so hard I fall to the floor on these stupid skates.

- “Cat, wait!”

I stand up as fast as I can and start to make the story believable enough to help me through this. I know (Y/N) is listening on the other side of the mic, but this is the only chance I’ve got to finish with this and save that family. And I know she understands.

- “Cat! Cat! Wait! I can explain!”- I follow her to the lockers, where she is taking off her skates, furious.

- “I have spent my entire adult life reading men. I know when they're thinking about someone else.”

- “Yes, I was thinking about my wife, but that doesn't mean…”

- “Do you know what this was for me? I didn't ask for one last family visit. I didn't want one final meal. I wanted this. And you can't even give me the courtesy of your undivided attention before I'm executed.”

Somehow, she was being honest about that. This was all she had asked for, which is sad. But she just had to torture two people to get it.

- “So, thank you very much, but this date is over. You can turn off the stupid lights, boys. Let's get out of here.

- “She's not you.”- it’s the only thing I can come up with. I stand in front of Cat looking defeated and she stares at me, still angry, and trying to find a flaw in my facade.

- “You're lying.”- and she doesn’t believe it, so I have to make sure she swallows every word that comes out of my mouth from now on. It’s time to lie.

- “I'm not lying. I wish I was, but I'm not! There's some part of my brain, some part that you somehow inhabit, and no woman, no matter how good, no matter how kind, no matter how sexy she is, not even my own wife can ever get you out.”- she stares at me and suddenly I wonder if this is exactly what (Y/N) fears the most. Am I hurting her?

- “Do you think about me when you kiss her?”

- “Yes.”- I don’t even think about it, I just answer. She raises an eyebrow with a smirk.- “And if it makes you happy, I’m pretty sure I’ll be in big trouble when I get home after our date.”

- “Does she know everything you do or think?”

- “No, but I try to tell her most things.”- I say those words with the certainty I am not lying.

- “Most things, not all things.”- Cat takes the bait and a part of me feels good lying is useful for once.

- “No…”

- “What doesn’t your wife know that I could know?”

- “Well…”- I glue my eyes to the floor, trying to look as ashamed as possible.

- “Come on. Give me something.”- her voice is annoyed and anxious.

- “I still go to my old apartment.”

- “What?”

- “We were supposed to sell it when we got the house, but I wanna keep it. She doesn't know that I still hang out there sometimes when I tell her I’m running an errand.”

- “Then I want to see your apartment. Now.”

(Y/N)’s point of view

Call me petty, but the fact Spencer is on a date with Cat Adams is driving me more crazy than not being able to find her father and half-sister. Something is off. Adams has to be hiding something. She wants to throw us a curveball at the last minute. But what?

I stare at Emily as the team analyzes every second of the conversation Spencer is having with Cat. My cell phone hums in my pocket and I grab it immediately, thinking it could be my mom. She is with the kids tonight. But instead, it’s Frank.

- “Nugget, I’m sorry.”

- “Hey, what is it?”- I can tell he is stressed ‘cause his voice is shaky and very fast.

- “I just… never thought I could make this call, less on your last day, but I need your help. We do.”

- “What happens, Paco?”

- “It’s Tarah’s dad, Charlie. He has been missing since last night.”- I hold my breath, shocked. His girlfriend’s father is missing. And because I am surprised, I ask the wrong question.

- “What? Are you sure?”

- “Of course I am sure! I would never call you if I weren’t sure!”- my friend snaps right away.

- “Sorry! Sorry! Did you guys fill the report?”- I walk outside the conference room as I talk with my friend.

- “Tarah is just doing that as we speak, but it’s not just that.”

- “What is it?”

- “Lizzy, Mikey’s sister-in-law is missing too. Both of them disappeared last night.”

And somehow, it clicked.

- “I’m gonna need you to send me pictures of them asap. I’ll make sure they get home safe tonight.”

I rush back into the conference room and start shouting information, hyperventilating ‘cause we are wasting time.

- “It’s about Spencer.”- Rossi and Em stare at me, lost. Of course, none of them gets what I’m trying to say ‘cause they are not in my head, so I try to elaborate on my breakthrough.

- “This whole show Cat is doing, it’s about Spencer and me, I’m sure this bitch knows we are leaving the FBI.”

- “What? Why?”- Prentiss doesn’t doubt it, she just needs more proof.

- “Frank’s father inlaw and Mikey’s sister inlaw are missing, they are sending me pictures as we speak, and if I’m right, I’m pretty sure that’s the father and daughter Juliette is torturing.”

- “Fuck.”- Rossi whispers as he shakes his head.

- “Can you get your friends to come over?”- Prentiss asks and I just nod. - “Good, ‘cause we need to be ready for whatever Cat is planning to do now. She won’t get away with this.”

- “Spencer is taking Cat to your old apartment.”- Matt shows up suddenly with the news

- “What? Why?”

- “Apparently, Cat wants to see it…”- my phone rings that second. Mikey’s hyperventilating at the other side of the line.

- “I just got a call from an unknown number, a woman yelled at me to go to your old apartment. It said there was a hidden key underneath the mat. And if I don’t go, she’ll kill Lizzy and Tarah’s dad.”

- “Cat is taking us all there.”- I say and look at Prentiss.- “I’m on my way, Mikey, wait for me there. I’m gonna call Frank.”

Just then, I get a text myself. It says: “If you want to save them, go to your old apartment.” So Cat wants me to be there as well. I wonder why. I show it to Prentiss as we hurry to get into the car and she stares at me, pale.

- “She has never even addressed you.”

- “No. Not really.”- now that I think about it, Cat has always been alone with Spencer. I watch them interact from a safe distance, but I have never spoken to her. This shit will be weird.

I was right. Cat wants us all to meet in our old apartment? Why? I have too many theories about that. We meet Frank and Mikey a block before Spencer’s apartment. In the years I’ve met them, I have never seen them like this. They are… losing it.

It’s hard to work with friends and family. You just never know how to keep your head cold, and how to talk to them without sounding condescending. Not even in my worst nightmare I ever imagined I would be in this situation with my best friends on my last day working for the Bureau. But Cat wanted us to leave like this, so we have to deal with what we got.

- “She is the crazy psycho that almost killed Diana?”- Frank asks but instead of me, Prentiss does the talking.

- “Yes, she is. She is a dangerous criminal, and she just wants to hurt Spencer and (Y/N).”

- “I’m gonna kill her.”- Mikey mumbles as we rush upstairs.

- “No, you have to outsmart her. Let her think she is in charge. She will trip with Spencer.”- I command as I open the front door. We are less than fifteen minutes ahead of Cat and Spencer, but we have to be ready for them.

- “Whatever happens, don’t believe anything she says, but act as if you do.”- Prentiss starts instructing my friends.- “She will lie, she will use you to make Reid’s life a living hell. Try to make her see she is convincing you.”

- “She can’t know you are lying.”- I add, scared my friends are caught in this mess.

- “So it’s like when we got drunk as teenagers and pretended to be sober when we got home?”- Frank somehow jokes in the middle of this nightmare, probably trying to ease the mood. And I just smile at him and nod, as I help wiring him.

- “Hopefully your acting will be better now. You always got caught.”- I smile at him, but tears fill my eyes in a second. I hate getting emotional on the field, but this is my family we are talking about.

- “Hey, hey. No, don’t.”- Frank holds my hands and looks at me.- “Don’t give this bitch what she wants. Don’t cry.”

- “I’m just so sorry.”

- “You are sorry she is a crazy bitch?”- Frank raises an eyebrow as I shake my head.

- “I’m sorry we dragged your families into this madness.”

- “This is what she wants, nugget.”- Mikey kisses my forehead and wipes my tears.- “Don’t let that psycho win.”

- “They are almost here.”- Garcia announces. She checks our mics, and earpieces and kisses my cheek.- “I love you, munchkin. You can do this.”- I just nod and watch her and the rest of the team rush out of our old apartment.

Just now I realize how empty this whole place looks. We left some furniture behind, an old sofa Raven and Vinny had mostly destroyed, and a small table. But it feels so weird without all of our books and mess and child’s screams. Our landline is apparently still on, and a very old telephone sits there, alone. Frank lights a cigarette and I almost ask him to put it off out of instinct. Like the kids were still there.

We say nothing for a few minutes. We just stand there speechless. Mikey whispers a few things, mostly words of encouragement. Until we hear some noises from the hall.

- “This is it.”- I whisper and my friends just nod. Anything could happen. Adams probably has a very structured plan and we need to outsmart her. I am sure she just wants to hurt us. Mentally and even physically.

So of course, as soon as the front door opens, the first thing I see is Spencer kissing Cat as if his life depended on it.

- “What the fuck?”- I mouther as I open my eyes wide and my husband removes his lips from Cat’s, in shock, fear and regret. I can read it all on his face, but it doesn’t mean much at the moment. I don’t even have to force myself to fake the anger. I am burning.

Spencer stares at me for a few seconds, still holding Cat’s face with both hands. As soon as he reacts to what’s happening, he starts walking in my direction, but Frank’s fist stops him. He hits him hard, right on the jaw.

- “Mother fucker!”- Frank hisses and I wrap my arms around him to stop him from resuming the fight. I don’t know if this is pretending or if he is actually mad, but he wants to keep hitting Spencer and I am not letting that happen.

- “I told you what would happen if you ever made her cry!! I warned you!! Now you got us all in this fucking mess! I am gonna kill you!”

Frank’s face is red in anger as he yells. Spencer raises a hand to his jaw and stares at him for a second in disbelief. Then, he looks at me with sorry eyes. He is almost in tears. I remember Cat was just here, but she is nowhere to be seen. Probably the SWAT team took her out. Mikey holds my hand, pulling me away from Frank, and wraps an arm around my shoulder protectively.

- “Chipmunk, this is not what it looks like.”

- “Get them out of here!”- Luke rushes in and my friends raise their hands like they were being at gunpoint.

- “No, we can’t leave. She’ll kill them if we do.”- Mikey explained.

- “Who?”- Spencer asks but keeps looking at me.

- “My sister-in-law and Frank’s father-in-law. She took them.”- as Mikey speaks, Luke stops the few SWAT officials in the room from taking them out. - “Someone called us and told us to come here if we wanted to see them alive again. Our wives are terrified, Reid. We need to get our family back.”

- “This is all my fault.”- Spencer whispers and for once, I don’t comfort him. I don’t open my mouth.

- “Spencer, what the fuck is happening?”- Frank demands to know.- “Tell me before I break your face.”

- “Guys, I’m so sorry. I don’t have enough time to explain. I just wanna apologize for what you saw. It really means nothing, I am just trying to…”

- “No time for that, Spencer.”- I snap and look at Luke.- “Bring her back and leave us alone.”

- “What?”- Alvez stares at us not getting what’s happening. But Spencer agrees.

- “If she brought all of us here, this is what she wanted.”- I add before my husband grabs the landline phone and calls from his cell.

- “You can monitor us from here.”

- “Are you sure?”- Luke asks and I just nod.

- “I’ll keep her safe.”- my husband tries to hold my hand but I don’t let him and he stares at me like a wounded puppy. It hurts to act this way, but if I just saw him kissing another woman. A crazy bitch as a matter of act. And I know it’s not because he wants to do it, he was probably just trying to prove a point. But it still hurts. I have to use this anger to make it all real in front of Cat.

- “Follow my lead. We can outsmart her.”- Spencer says and looks at our friends.- “Trust me, please. Let her goat, she loves to goat. Just don’t show fear, she’ll use it against you.”

- “Who are you talking about?”- Frank asks as Cat walks into our apartment, a sign I never imagined could happen, not in this life or another.

- “Her.”- I point out and cross my arms on my chest. Luke leaves us alone, closing the door behind his back.

Cat fucking Adams wipes her mouth with her hand, remembering my husband’s lips were just there a few minutes ago. I have a gun, I could just kill her.

- “I can’t believe after all this time we haven’t properly met, Mrs. Reid.”- she smiles at me and winks.- “She is cute, Spencie.”

- “We are here. What the hell do we have to talk about?”- my husband barks at her, and she scoffs as if the answer is too obvious.

- “So much, so, so much. I can’t believe this is actually the first time I get the chance to talk with your wife. We have so much to share. We both know you so well.”

- “I give a fuck about your stupid crush on Spencer. I just want my family back.”- Frank snaps and I hold him back.

- “I like you, you are feisty. I never got what were you doing hanging out with two feds. You had potential as a riot maker.”- Cat smiles at Frankie and my friend nearly bites her as he replies.

- “Oh shut up. Just tell us what the fuck you want and let us leave.”

- “I just wanted us to talk. I mean, we’ve been all connected for so long, it’s only fair we get to know each other better. Especially us, (Y/N). Our lives, and some other things, have been touched by the same man.”

It’s official. I’m gonna kill Cat Adams.

Spencer’s point of view

- “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your husband?”- Cat asks with the most innocent tone of voice and I don’t know if I should look at (Y/N) or just ignore what’s going on. Of course, my wife knows what to answer, though her cold tone of voice is so unsettling.

- “A lot of things you did made me mad today. Mostly the fact you kidnapped my friend’s family. Why?”

- “Why what? Why I kissed him? He kissed me, actually.”- I open my mouth to argue with Cat’s affirmation, but (Y/N) speaks quicker, sounding incredibly tired of the whole situation.

- “No, Cat. Why don’t you just release their family? They have nothing to do with this.”

- “They have so much to do with all this. What was it, Reids? Did you think you were gonna quit and everything was gonna be fine? You don’t get it. They don’t get it.”- she ads and looks at Frank and Mikey.- “Did you guys get it? How much your friends have fucked up your lives? How their jobs got you all in this shit?”

- “Honestly, right now, I give a shit about their lives. I just want you to stop this and release our family.”

- “Wow, Frank. That’s not what a friend would say.”- the way Cat says Paco’s name is upsetting, and I can see how my wife is trying to mask her anger.

- “Excuse us, but we actually have other things in mind right now.”- Mikey adds, and lights a cigarette.

- “Like what?”

- “Are you gonna hurt Lizzy and Charlie?”

- “No if I don’t have to.”- I know Cat is lying. - “What’s important here is that you learn your lesson.”

- “Which lesson would that be?”- Frank questions and crosses his arms on his chest. He and Mikey are standing at each side of my wife, protecting her. Something I wish I could do better at this moment.

- “Well, usually Spencie and I spend our time together playing games, but tonight I brought you all here to make a point. You could do so much better.”

- “With you?”- I ask her, but she shakes her head and points at my wife and her friends.

- “The three amigos here. Especially you, (Y/N). You had so much potential. I know you’ve been wanting to leave the BAU for longer than your husband here, and you’ve stayed in this shitty job, putting your friends and their families in danger just because he can’t make up his freaking mind.”

- “That’s not true.”- I argue, but my wife doesn’t say a word. Instead, I see her fighting the tears. And Cat smiles, rejoicing in the pain she is causing (Y/N).

- “Apparently, it is.”

- “(Y/N)?”- I whisper her name and she bites her lips, trying not to burst into tears. Frank holds her hand and Mikey wraps an arm around her, two things I should be doing.

- “I’ve hated this job since before Hotch had to leave. I wanted to quit since Raven was born. You just… didn’t listen every time I tried to tell you.”

- “You see, Spencie? Your wife hasn’t been happy for a while, and you never noticed. Your marriage isn’t as perfect as you thought it would be.”

- “Chipmunk, why didn’t you tell me?”- I whisper, afraid of the answer.

- “I couldn’t. You just… weren’t ready to deal with this, and I thought if I faked it for a little longer, I was going to fall in love with the job again.”

- “But you didn’t”- Cat adds and my wife just shakes her head.

- “And you know what’s even worse than that? The fact a psycho noticed and you didn’t!”- (Y/N) isn’t yelling, but the words come out filled with anger, and she is being sincere.

- “I… I am so sorry, chipmunk.”

- “Finally, we are getting to the heart of the matter.”- Cat claps a few times and walks around our empty living room.- “He told me he doesn’t want to sell this place, by the way. That he still comes and hangs out here on his own when he says he is running an errand.”

- “Everything I said, I did to save their families, ma cherie.”- I ignore Cat and try to talk to my wife. But she ignores me.

- “Did that kiss look like a lie, (Y/N)? Be honest.”- Cat asks her.

- “It was.”- I assure my wife but she wipes her tears from her cheeks and looks at me, knives coming from her eyes.

- “You know that looked pretty real, Spencer.”

- “Chipmunk, please.”

- “Shut up, Reid.”- Frank is losing his patience.- “You fucked it up, at least admit it.”

- “Frank is right. Everyone thinks that Doctor Spencer Reid is just this nice, bookish genius who always saves the day and has all the answers and who would never ever hurt anyone, right? ‘Cause he is the nice guy. But I know the real him.”

- “Oh yeah? Who is the real me, Cat?”- I sound defiant ‘cos I’m fucking tired of this trial.

- “The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls and hisses that he’s gonna kill them.”- she replies, hitting a sensitive spot.

- “That was a very different situation.”- I explain, but she dismisses my words.

- “Your wife was there. Am I right, (Y/N)?”

- “What is she talking about?”- Frank asks and turns to me.- “Who the fuck did you hurt?”

- “No one! I hurt no one!”- I try to defend myself, but I know Cat will have a different point of view.

- “Come on, Spence”- she says with a mocking tone of voice.- “Don’t lie to your friends anymore. That’s why we are here. To be honest with each other, so they can see you are not a saint, and that their friend really screws them over bringing you into their lives.”

- “Who did you hurt, Spencer?”- Mikey asks and stares at me, demanding answers.

- “You tell him. They are not gonna believe it coming from me.”- Cat says innocently.

Frank and Mikey stare at me as if they don't know the story. Which they don’t. Not this part, at least.

- “I’m sure you remember two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…"

- “And you threw her against a wall?”- Frank asks raising an eyebrow, shocked.

- “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. They deserve to know everything.”- Cat is surely enjoying this moment of humiliation for me.

- “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.”- I whisper those words staring at the ground ‘cause I am honestly ashamed of confessing it in front of my friends.

- “And?”- Mikey asks.- “How badly did you hurt her? Did you lose your temper?”

- “Well, the next day I miscarried, so you can imagine who mad get got.”- Cat whispers but the words are heard by everybody.

- “That's not true.”- I snap and look at her, in shock.

- “It is most certainly true. Check my medical records."- Cat basically threatens us with those files, and I can't believe a word she is saying.

- “That doesn't mean I… I would stop.”

- “You stopped ‘cause your wife forced you. But who forces you to stop when you lose your temper with her?”

- “I would never…”- I whisper shocked by her insinuation.

- “Never, Spence? You did it with me.”- Cat raises an eyebrow and looks at me.

- “You had kidnapped my mother!”

- “So that gives you the right to kill my baby?”

Kill a baby. I murdered a poor child. I feel the knot in my throat tighten and fight the tears. Cat has to be lying. She has to. Because if by any chance she is telling the truth, I don’t think I will ever be able to live with the guilt. I’ve killed evil men, and I’ve pulled the trigger knowing the consequences of my acts many times. But not once I’ve ever thought about hurting a baby, an innocent child.

- “I thought you were decent.”- it’s the repugnance in Frank’s tone of voice that shocks me. - “To think you could do that to my sister.”

- “I would nev…”

- “Shut up, dude.”- Mikey pushes my arm, but my wife stops him.- “I always knew your mister goody goody attitude had to be fake. No one is like that in real life.”

- “It was about damn time you knew the real Spencer.”

- “Shut up, Cat.” - (Y/N) whispers and covers her face with both hands.- “You wanted to hurt my whole family? Congratulations, you did it! Now let those poor people free! They didn’t do anything!”

- “They did! You are just not seeing it yet, chipmunk!”

My wife’s nickname coming from Cat’s lips seems tainted. And somehow I realize how she makes me my sanity. I can picture myself hurting Cat Adams and not feeling bad about it. That kind of thought is dangerous.

- “I’m sorry.”- I whisper and try to reach (Y/N), hold her hand, but she moves away from me, breaking my heart.

- “Notice how he apologizes to you, not to me, and it’s my dead baby.”

- “I would never… I didn’t mean to…”

- “It doesn’t matter, Spencer.”- Cat says and looks at my wife.- “All men are the same. Aren’t they, Mrs. Reid?”

- “Don’t call her that.”- I snap at her immediately.

- “Or what? Are you gonna throw me against the wall? Choke me? Or do you do that only to pregnant women?”

- “Why are you doing this to them?”- Mikey asks, thankfully ending that useless argument.

- “Because I want you all to see it. How Spencer ruins everything he touches.”- Cat looks at Mikey and Frank as she speaks, and then looks at my wife.- “Spencer ain’t better than whoever hurt you before.”

- “Don’t you dare bring that up”- Mikey’s words stop my heart, and my wife looks at him with watered-up eyes. I have no idea what he is talking about, but whatever it is, it pleases Cat, so she looks at my wife with a fake smile and asks.

- “What’s his name?”

- “I mean it, (Y/N), we are not talking about this shit.”- Mikey warns her, and I stare at them puzzled. What have they been hiding all these years?

- “Come on, Mrs. Reid. Tell us.”

- “It’s not of your business. Mikey is right. We are not talking about him. Release their families.”- but Cat just smiles a her and shakes her head.

- “You know it’s my business, (Y/N). It’s my specialty. What I did for a living. So come on. Share with the class.”

- “If you wanna know about him, release their families.”- my wife crosses her arms on her chest and stares at her.

- “Do you want me to make a phone call so you can trace it?”- Cat smiles at (Y/N) and mimics her posture.- “You guys at the FBI are so good.”

- “What the fuck is wrong with you?”- Frank shouts- “Stop flirting with Spencer and release our families! What is this sick, twisted thing you two have? And how are you not breaking her face?!”- he asks and turns to my wife.- “He clearly has feelings for her! How can you just overlook that?!”

- “I can’t overlook it! It’s just… I can’t-” (Y/N) fights the tears and groans as she walks across the room.- “What she does to him I can’t control it. Happy? Now release their families! Please!”

My wife sounds desperate, and Cat simply stares at her.

- “Tell me his name.”

- “Don’t do it, we’ll find another way.”- Mikey warns her. Why is he trying to keep this a secret?

- “Tell me the story, (Y/N). And I promise you, Lizzy and Charlie will be free to go.”

- “Nugget, you fucking promised me we were never going to talk about that again. Don’t do it.”- Mikey begs her.

- “We have to do anything she wants if we want to save Lizzy and Charlie"- (Y/N) mutters and sighs.- "Sometimes bitches win. This time, she does.”

- “No, please.”- Mikey sobbs and hugs (Y/N). What the fuck happened that I never heard anything of.

- “Arthur.”- my wife walks away from me and whispers the rest.- “His name is Arthur, he is Mikey’s older brother. We dated for two years.”

- “Your best friend brother. What happened?”- Cat is enjoying this and I hate it.

- “What do you think happened? Does it look like we lived happily ever after?"- (Y/N) asks, annoyed

- “Tell me, when did it end?”- Cat keeps asking.

- “When I was twenty.”- my wife stares at her hand, embarrassed by the story.

- “Was he your first?”

- “Shut up.”- I stare at Cat and she just smiles at me.

- “What? I just wanted to know. You surely must know you were not her first.”

- “He was my first love. I loved him since I can remember. Mikey’s older brother, he was… he always seemed so cool. So different than all the kids in school.”

- “And what happened?”

- “What do you think happened, Cat?”- (Y/N) sounds irritated.- “Do you think everything ended like a fucking fairy tale?”- but Cat shakes her head, keeping her posture and calm.

- “Come on, Reid. I am not the enemy here. Just tell me the story.”

My wife sighs and looks at Mikey. He is angry, and fighting the tears himself.

- “I’m sorry.”- (Y/N) whispers and holds his hand.- “I tried to change for him. I did. A lot. He didn’t like that I was smarter than him, or that I had many friends in school. So I stopped hanging out with my friends from college. I never talked about school, my classes, or any kind of award or recognition I got for my grades. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to control everything I did. Everyone I talked to. But it wasn’t enough.”

- “When did he start hitting you?”

- “He didn’t.”- my wife replies and shakes her head.- “He never raised his hand to me… not until the end at least. Instead, he isolated me. I barely even saw my family anymore. Not even my closest friends were safe. Mikey and Frank realized something was wrong… but…”

- “But you somehow got out of that relationship. How?”- Cat walks towards my wife and stares at her. (Y/N) sighs and closes her eyes for a moment.

- “My dad… he tried to talk to me about my boyfriend. He noticed things were not ok. I had moved out of their house already, and we barely saw each other anymore. So… he told me he thought Arthur wasn’t right for me. At first, I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just being an ass because he loved me and he was jealous.”

- “I hate this.”- Mikey mumbles, eyes filled with tears. - “You swore you weren’t talking about this with anyone!”

- “She has your wife’s sister, I’m trying to save her! So your brother raped me! There! I said it!”

- “Chipmunk, stop talking, now.”- I demand and move closer to my wife. Mikey bursts into tears and Frank hugs him.

- “No, don’t stop. Give me your phone.”- my wife does and Cat diales.- “Look, I’ll release their families as soon as you finish this story.”

(Y/N) off the tears that fall down her cheek and looks at Cat, and for once, I don’t think she is trying to read if she is lying. She is connecting with her.

- “My dad talked to me one day. We had a heart-to-heart, and after some time I realized Arthur wasn’t good for me, so I ended things. Of course, he didn’t take it well… and he hit me and raped me.”

- “And you…”- Cat stares at (Y/N) with a smirk. She is enjoying every second of this, rejoicing in her pain.

- “I still couldn’t legally carry a gun so…”- there’s a deep silence for a moment. I don’t move, I just stare at (Y/N) thinking there is nothing she can say that will stop me from loving her.- “So my dad took the blame. He said he walked into him hurting me and shot him…”

- “It was self-defense… he was hurting you.”- I whisper and look at my wife. She didn’t deserve any of that at such a young age.

- “How did it feel killing him? Did you enjoy it?”

- “I didn’t kill him, Cat. I shot his leg and called my dad. He called the ambulance… and he fixed everything.”

- “Well, aren’t you daddy’s little girl”- Cat chuckles and turns to me.- “You really have a type, don’t you?”

- “He helped me. Got him behind bars and made sure he was never going to hurt me again. There! That’s my story. Now you know…”

- “Now you all know… and your friendship is doomed.”- Cat replied and grinned.

- “Why is our friendship doomed, Cat?”- my wife asks- “Mikey knew this whole story.”

- “He did… but he didn’t know this: what I did took me zero planning. Less than a week and I destroyed your lives. Anyone at any time can hurt your family and extended family ‘cause you and Spencer caused so much pain to so many psycho killers like me, anyone can seek revenge. Leaving the FBI doesn’t even matter ‘cause you are in too deep already.”

(Y/N)’s cell phone rings she rushes outside without saying another word, Mikey and Frank following her immediately. Cat stares at me with an evil grin.

- “I win.”

And I feel like I just lost so much. 

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[27spoons]

travis was a misogynist not a “bitch” and excusing misogyny with “he was 16” is not the move. do 4chan boys get a free pass because theyre still in high school? why cant any of you just admit what he did was wrong and say he grew instead of excusing it with his age 😐

i never said what he did wasn't wrong lmao. I'm a travnat supporter and a travis disliker (idc if they contradict each other)

I HATED his ass in s1. HATED. hell, I hated him for most of s2 as well. it wasn't until my third (I think.) rewatch that I started liking him. once I was able to actually watch the show and think about the characters and their actions... yeah. the way he acted started making sense to me a little.

also... time period. just in general. things were a lot different almost thirty (30) years ago than they are today. the way travis acted is honestly probably pretty accurate for an angsty, hormonal teenage dude for the area.

you guys can argue w me about this but I know for a fact if travis was a chick people would be all "ooooooh toxic yuri uwu" (and I only say that because I would also be saying some shit about toxic yuri. i love toxic yuri.)

low-grade analysis under cut

Travis has done a lot of things I don't like. Let's talk about it.

s1e2 - Nat is trying to talk to Travis about helping Javi. Travis gets all pissy and tells Nat to mind her own business, and then proceeds to leave (and not go help Javi)

s1e3 - Travis forces Javi to spit the gum out by getting him in a headlock. Yes, what he's doing has good intentions behind it. But the way he went about it? Especially considering how young Javi is and all the shit they just went through?

s1e4 - ohhhh boy. This is an episode for travis haters. First and foremost, finding the gun and just taking aim at squirrels (I think idr) for fun, scaring the shit outta everyone.

s1e4 - after nat fucks up her first shot with the gun, he starts saying some shit about "folding laundry and sucking dick", which is super out of pocket considering all Nat has been thus far is supportive of him.

s1e4 - travis points the gun at nat after she calls him flex. which, honestly, was probably just her being a brat in turn for his "folding laundry and sucking dick" comment. either way, SUPER out of pocket.

s1e6 - when they get back to the cabin (holding hands) jackie starts talking shit. travis sits like a submissive puppy in the corner and lets nat talk, when realistically, he's half the problem as well, but he lets her take the attack from jackie. he could have, and should have, stepped up. she isn't the only one responsible for hunting.

s1e6 - the scene where they almost have sex. you know the one. the condom falls out of his pants. the "how many guys have you been with" / "I just wanna know if ("I'm a slut" -nat)". that entire scene pissed me off to no extent. yes, he's been a misogynistic cunt.

same scene - the jason russo comment. "he's a dude", implying that its different for guys, when realistically, it has the same repercussions as it does for chicks. (insert nats speech about vaginas having monologues)

s1e7 - the almost sex scene in the cabin. yeah, he's nervous (and embarrassed), but literally running away????? bruh. not to mention how that whole scenario made nat feel. because, if I was nat? i'd feel like shit. just... terrible. then he spends the next little while just straight up avoiding her????? like????? dude

s1e8 - bobby farleigh. FUCK that scene annoys me. I'm pretty sure I made a post when I was rewatching it last time about how much it pissed me off that travis was acting like that when NAT DIDNT KNOW HIM WHEN SHE SLEPT WITH BOBBY FARLEIGH. SHE DIDNT KNOW HIM. and nat even admits she made a mistake by sleeping with bobby. ("are you seriously gonna ruin this over something so fucking stupid") mind you, what nat said afterwards ("this would have been harder if we actually fucked") wasn't cool either. but she was hurt, and you cant really blame her for her reaction.

s1e9 - him sleeping with jackie. which, you could argue that he was high asf on shrooms, but whatever.

s1e10 - him reacting the way he does when nat just wants to check on him after the events of the previous night. telling her that he got laid (spitefully), snapping when she tries to help him... yeah. he was being a petty ass bitch.

s2e2 - listen. this one isn't on him. i know he was having a whole crisis of faith, but hallucinating lottie while having sex with nat is WILD and makes me so uncomfortable every time I see it (which is why I cant blame sophie thatcher for saying "I've never watched the sex scene" because I cant blame you girl that shit gives me second-hand embarrassment)

Now, let's talk about travnat specifically.

s1e4 - Travis is trying to cut off his dads ring for Javi. he cant do it. nat does it for him. this is the first time they actually have a positive interaction (IMO). nat didn't have to do that. but she did.

s1e4 - the scene in the plane when they share a smoke and talk about their dads. its a trauma-bonding moment. i enjoy that. sue me. they're both able to connect on a level like that because they share similar experiences. both witnessed what happened to their dad. both had a rough relationship with their dad.

s1e4 - that scene where they shoot the buck. nat starts tearing up and having flashbacks. travis is able to calm her breathing down enough to kill the deer.

s1e5 - the scene where they talk about the girls being on their periods. its cute. they flirt and tease. ITS CUTE. sue me. their teasing goes from hostile to playful.

s1e5 - the "magic trick" and the kiss had me giggling and kicking my feet. its cute. nat looks HAPPY. how often is this girl happy anymore? not often!

s1e6 - that plane scene when they're kissing. nat saw that travis was uncomfortable (and likely in his own head) after the tray table thing, and she was able to get them back into the moment without too much fuss.

s1e6 - plane scene with condom. travis was just... insecure. nat realises that after he reveals that he's a virgin. nat reiterates that their relationship means something.

s1e7 - nat asking travis not to go 😭😭😭😭😭 puppy eyes bro. the way travis responds w tears in his eyes...............

s1e8 - nat having the talk w ben about travis. ben saying "I've seen the way he looks at you"...................... ugh puppy love

s1e9 - him sleeping with jackie and saying "but what about natalie?" before they do anything, saying that he thinks he's in love with her........................... if jackie didn't do the whole gaslight thing I don't think they would have slept together. but I think travis felt bad for jackie, travis was also still hurting from his interaction with nat about bobby farleigh, AND the shrooms. it was a bad combination.

s1e9 - nat having her talk w ben about how she thinks she's in love w travis........................ ugh

s1e9 - nat saving travis from shauna right before shauna slices his throat open. travis being #1 priority before she deals w everyone else.

s1e10 - the love confession. (WITH THAT MF ULTRAVOX PLAYING. THAT WAS FUCKED UP. YOU CANT PLAY THAT FOR A MOMENT LIKE THIS AND THE SCENE WHERE WE SEE TRAVIS'S DEAD BODY. FUCKED UP.

early s2 - nat waking up earlier than she normally would for hunting to help travis look for javi. does she have to? no. but she does because she cares about him.

s2e4 - travis being a malewife and helping nat get ready for the competition

s2e4 - travis being the one to pull nat out of the ice and comfort her after they drop the moose

s2e5 - the argument between them about javi being fucked up because travis stopped looking for him after nat planted the ripped, bloodied clothing. i cant blame travis for acting this way. id be pissed if I found out my partner did that too.

s1e8 -the "you're not a bad person, nat. I'm sorry for ever making you feel like one." ugh. traumatized babies.

s1e8 - TRAVIS SAIVNG NAT FROM SHAUNA. TRAVIS SAVING NAT FROM SHAUNA. TRAVIS SAVING NAT FROM SHUANA

s1e9 - the scene when everyone is like pledging allegiance to nat or w/e and travis places her hand over his heart I'm sobbing

anyways. yes. i dislike travis. but i like travnat. i hope i dont regret saying this in the next season, but for right now? i like them. there are more reasons I like travnat than reasons I dislike travis. travis has done fucked up things, but so has nat. their characters and relationship is flawed and I like that. sue me

[sweetbootslink]

So I took this picture in Glint because I wanted to see my dragon!MC with Sylus in his “normal” clothes:

And since I took it, it has consumed my very being?? To the point where…I wrote a whole tiny one-shot about it???

Anyway. Here’s some Sylus angst, and also the first fanfic I’ve posted on the internet in a very, very long time.

Only slightly angsty, and I guess spoilers(?) for Sylus’s myth.

————————

Sylus doesn’t often dream. If he does, it’s usually vague flashes of a fight, swirls of his Evol clouding any actual definitive images of anything, sometimes just various shades of red bleeding into one another behind his eyes.

Every so often, though, whenever he least expects it, Sylus has a different type of dream.

Dream might be too kind a word.

He’s having this dream tonight, having fallen asleep sitting straight up in his bed, his glasses still resting on his face and a few various papers curled gently in one of his fists.

This dream, unlike the others, he can see with breathtaking clarity.

He’s sitting in a sea of flowers, their fragrant blooms swaying in the warm breeze, the sun hanging low and heavy in the sky, casting warm reds and golden yellows across the wide expanse of the field.

This place is so familiar that it hurts, even though the logical side of his brain is telling him that he’s never even been here before, but it feels as real as any memory.

And maybe that’s because it is.

Shakily, he raises one hand to the top of his head, but feels nothing except his hair moving through his fingers, no protrusions sticking out from his skull.

He feels his face, his neck, looks down at his chest and hands. He’s wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing earlier that day in the N-109 Zone, the same black button down and pants. His skin feels smooth, with just the barest hint of stubble prickling his fingers.

Speaking of -

Sulus looks again at his hands and flexes his fingers, almost waiting for them to shift, for scales to develop, for them to change into something monstrous.

But no. Just his hands as they are now, his skin unblemished save for the small scars that he’s accumulated over the long years.

He gazes up again, looking out at the horizon, and there’s a sense of peace that flutters in his chest that he wants desperately to ignore.

Because Sylus knows what happens next.

He’s had this dream before.

He tries to stop himself, tries in vain to wake himself up, but he can’t, he never could, he was always going to have to watch this part play out. Helpless to his own mind, his own memory.

His own heart.

Slowly, Sylus turns his head to the left, and even though he knew deep in his soul what he would see, it still knocks the breath from his lungs.

You stand there, smiling at him over your shoulder, your hair floating softly in the wind, your eyes sparkling in the light of the sunset.

“Took you long enough,” you say with a small giggle, and oh your voice -

Sylus feels like his heart is being carved out of his chest.

Smiling still, you walk over to him and sink down into the grass in front of him. Your scent mixes in with the datura flowers and Sylus wants to drink you in, to consume you as you lean closer to him.

Your hand comes up and your curl your fingers around his chin, your eyes flicking across his face and landing on his lips. His heart pounds in his chest as he leans closer to you as well, wrapping one arm around your back, your skin so warm under his touch.

“Sylus,” you whisper. Sylus closes his eyes, desperate to stay in this moment forever, knowing that it’s hopeless, knowing that the dream always ends here, right before your lips finally meet his.

Just as it did before.

But Sylus doesn’t even care, as his fingers curl into your hair. He’d let you curse him a million times over if it meant he gets to feel you like this one more time.

A sharp wind blows across his face and Sylus opens his eyes wide, because this is not what is supposed to happen next.

You stare at him, grasp his chin a little harder, your eyes bright.

“Find me, Sylus,” you say, hushed and urgent, like you’re doing something that’s not allowed.

“Please come find me,” you murmur, and you lean forward and press your lips right beneath his right eye.

His little sorceress, defying them all as ever.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Suddenly the dream blurs, the soft glow of the sunset twisting into gray, the field transforming into the outskirts of a city, the toiling of a bell ringing through the air, and you vanish like mist beneath his hands.

Sylus wakes up.

Next to him, his phone vibrates. A text from an unknown number flashes on the screen.

It’s the date of the next Hunting Day at The Nest.

His heart thuds dully in his chest, the spark of something flaring to life.

Something that feels a little like hope.

I’m waiting for you.

[everyone-needs-a-hoopoe]

palestinians on this website have been driving themselves out of their minds since october 2023, past the point of heads full of grey hairs in their 20s, past the point of multiple breakdowns, getting gazans' private documents to prove they're real people while exposing and driving off the very few actual scammers there have been. multiple organisations like operation olive branch and gazavetters have sprung up to try and alleviate the toll this takes on individuals while still saving as many people as possible. ahmed 90s-ghost had a news article written about his successful escape to egypt!

those lovely organisations you listed cannot help gazans right now because they rely on getting aid trucks over the borders, which are kept closed by israel (which is ordinarily responsible for letting the majority of aid through) and egypt. the only people who can help gazans are other gazans and people like us with our valuable foreign currency.

and we need to help! even with a ceasefire agreement, children are being splattered across gaza's few remaining walls because israel never honours these things. families are still starving and freezing to death. people still have to pay rent for apartments with no walls or sleep in tents made of blankets in the pouring rain. every hospital in gaza is a bombed out shell, while wounds go septic in streets running with sewage and lungs fail in air choked with the dust of a nearly flattened city. did you know that one of the terms of the ceasefire was that hostile aircraft are only allowed in gazan airspace for a maximum of 8-10 hours per day? can you imagine living most of your day with the incessant buzzing of death above you, never certain when it's going to come for you? can you imagine how bad it was before that this is an improvement that was fought tooth and nail for?

the people sending you asks use the little internet connection they can get per day on esim cards, and the little phone charge they can buy off anyone who's managed by some miracle to keep a solar panel intact through over a year of carpet bombing, screaming into the void in a language they don't know to beg for their lives. they don't know how tumblr works. they don't know who can help them. they need ANYONE to care that they're dying.

and you don't care, so yes, you are being callous. you would not be the people who sheltered jewish people during the holocaust. you are not a good person. by reporting these blogs without rock solid evidence - evidence actual scambusters like kyra45, mangocheesecakes and neeches work their asses off to find - you are actively sabotaging the fundraisers of dying people. i am not exaggerating when i say that kills people. it has killed people. it is killing people.

i really can't emphasise this enough, much less sugarcoat it: if you've reported multiple gazan fundraisers it's very likely that you've killed someone.

the least you can do is ignore them if you're not going to donate. if you want to be a little more than an everyday nazi with the radio up loud so you can't hear the screams from the concentration camp next door, you could start paying attention to what's on each blog. many have "vetted by so-and-so" on them, or "reblogged by 90s-ghost" who as i mentioned is a real palestinian who escaped gaza who can tell at a glance if their arabic is google translated like a scammer would do. you can check out these vetting blogs and see what they do and who they promote. maybe you could even toss a reblog their way! maybe even a couple of bucks!

it's never too late to start caring. my pinned post has a few links to vetting organisations. top of my blog (under this post now) is a fundraiser led by my best friend for a baby with a failing heart who needs treatment TODAY or he's going to die. one of my friends is even offering commissions for it if that makes you feel better! you know, if it makes a woman starving herself to try and afford treatment for her infant son less of a dirty beggar.

you can stop being callous if you want to. if you have followers or money you can save someone's life. i really hope you'll try.

I'm starting to feel callous for saying this:

Please, Please, Please, if you are in a situation where you need money or have a go-fund-me started, DO NOT send people asks about it.

Make a post with places to donate instead, spread awareness through reblogs, but don't go into strangers DMs or Ask Boxes soliciting donations. It makes you look like a bot, not a real person needing help.

The big scam one I'm seeing right now is individuals "in Gaza" asking for donations. Before Gaza they said the donations were because of an illness. Bots/scammers are using Gaza to pull at your heartstrings and scam you.

Donate to places you can trust. Like Amnesty International, Free The Children/WE Charities, UN Crisis Relief, Red Cross, etc. Places you know are credible.

I feel callous for deleting/blocking/reporting asks like that but just know it is a scam. It's using your empathy against you. Do not fall for those asks. Donate to causes, raise awareness, but delete and block those asks/dms because they are not real people. it's the same copy/pasted story on each one. Do your research before donating and be safe online.

[th3cadav3r]

Hello! I think a nice sfw fluff scenario for the Tulpar crew would be headcanons of how each character would react when the reader hesitantly tells them they don’t like sex or are asexual. Reader can be gn. Thank you, I really like your headcanon writings!

SFW Mouthwashing Headcanons—Asexual Reader

content: fluff, kissing, cuddling, mentions of sex, very very very slight acephobia from Jimmy(but with a happy ending)

author’s note: Keep in mind that I am not asexual therefore I cannot understand or fully grasp the asexual experience. I just tried my best based on what I’ve seen and heard online. Hope you enjoy!

Daisuke

You and him had been dating for about three weeks

You always held hands and made out a lot, but nothing more than that

His libido is pretty high because of his age, so naturally he wanted more

You were making out on the couch when suddenly you felt his hands start to wander

It was fine at first until his hand started reaching a little too low for comfort

“Wait—”you blurt out

He stops immediately, retracting his hand

“Sorry, did I do something wrong?” His voice is full of genuine concern

“No, it’s not your fault. I just uh…don’t want that”

He was a little confused. “We can move to my bed if you want” He suggests, thinking that you just wanted more privacy than the living room provided

“No, I…I mean I don’t want to have sex. It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t like it”

He didn’t expect that but he understood. He smiled reassuringly

“That’s alright. I get it”

You breathed a sigh of relief and your body relaxed. You felt like you truly didn’t deserve such a sweet boyfriend

“Here—we can just cuddle instead” He offers with his arms open. You gladly accept

You spent the rest of the afternoon napping together and playing video games when you woke up

This was definitely different for him compared to his previous relationships, but he didn’t care. He loves you for you

Anya

You started dating towards the end of the trip

She’s more of a words of affection girl than a physical touch girl, which is perfect for you

At one point when things started to get a bit steamy, you finally told her

“Before this gets too far…you should know something about me”

You tell her how you feel no desire for sex but that you still love her the same. Of course she’s understanding once you explain it to her

“I appreciate that you told me”

You both have a long discussion about what is and isn’t okay in regards to your and her comfort. And you both come out of the conversation with a much better and deeper understanding of each other

Now whenever you and her get touchy, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel good without crossing the line

Curly

There was no doubt about it: You were the captain’s favourite

You spent a lot of time alone with him in the cockpit just chatting about the most random things

He definitely grew a liking to you and you to him. One day he asked you what exactly he was to you

You confessed your feelings to him and he does the same. While the moment feels amazing, you can’t help but feel worried about his reaction to your sexuality

“Hey, I should let you know–” You decide to just tell him now. “–I don’t really want this to be a sexual thing, okay?”

He’s a bit taken aback, you can clearly see that in his face. But he is by no means offended or upset

“No worries, then,” he reassures. “Thanks for telling me”

For the next few days, he was very overly cautious. He asked if you were comfortable before he gave you any kind of physical affection. It was a bit exhausting at first, but you appreciated that he cared so much

Swansea

Let’s be real: This man is old

His sex drive is almost all long gone

And he let you know this when you told him about your lack of sexual desire

“Yeah, so what?” he says gruffly and bluntly. “I’m fifty-fuckin’-six years old, sweetheart. Just thinking about sex makes my back hurt”

You were totally expecting that response. It still made you smile from ear to ear though

He wasn’t really a lovey-dovey type of guy when the others were around, but when you two were alone in his bedroom he was a lot more affectionate. Cuddles, kisses, caresses…everything he did was so gentle and comfortable

Jimmy

You’re definitely a lot closer to him than anyone else on board, even Curly

Neither of you really knew where you stood in terms of a relationship, but your “hangouts” included a lot of making out and touching

This was fine initially, but at a certain point it became too much for you

“Hold on—”You grab his wandering hand and move it off of your body

“What?” He was genuinely surprised that you stopped him

“This is going a bit too far for me”Your body tenses up, anticipating a very awkward and uncomfortable conversation

“What do you mean?” He sounded a little hurt and a bit annoyed

“I don’t…have a drive like that. I don’t want to do sexual stuff”You laid it all out for him

He was quiet for a bit. You couldn’t exactly read his face so you were starting to get a little nervous

“It’s not because of me, right?”

“No, of course not,” you reassure. “That’s just how I am”

He sighs. Whether it was out of relief or frustration you couldn’t tell

“Alright”

The atmosphere between you and him was a little awkward for the next few days. You couldn’t help but worry

“Sorry if I was being distant,” he finally told you one afternoon. “Just thinking things through”

“That’s alright” You were lying; you were a little upset that he basically ghosted you after you were so vulnerable with him, but you were willing to just let it go, at least for now

“I know you have your…thing. But I still like you”

Well that was a surprise. But a good one. Definitely a good one. You told him that you liked him back

He was a bit disappointed that he couldn’t do everything he hoped to do with you, but he still liked you a lot. Besides, he could always just “take care” of himself in private

[diaryofageekgirl]

Cross-posting my meta/ranting from the Helluva Boss subreddit. Originally posted June 22, 2024 (here):

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I love both Stolas and Blitzø. I'm super invested in this relationship. Both of them made mistakes, but both of them are also coming from places of trauma and previous fucked up interpersonal relationships. That being said, I don't really feel the need to point out how Blitzø fucked up, because so much of the fandom is so biased towards Stolas that everyone is already well aware of that part of the problem. I'm also very aware of the fact that Stolas has grown significantly as a character, but sometimes people in the audience forget the difference between what WE know, and what the CHARACTERS know. Now that that's out of the way...

Oh my god, THANK YOU. There was one particular line in Apology Tour that stuck out to me, especially because Blitzø's reaction wasn't what I hoped it would be.

Stolas: "I don't look down on you! How many times do I ha- when have I ever?!"

Oh, I don't know dude, maybe the entire first season?!

Episode 1: refers to Blitzø as "my little imp" during the phone call (using his bottom-of-the-hierarchy species as a cute pet name is..... bad. It's bad). Also just fully ignores the fact that Blitzø tells him that it's not a good time, that he doesn't understand what he's saying (more than once!) and clearly just agrees to the deal in order to deal with the more pressing issue of being shot at.

Episode 2: CONSTANTLY flirts with Blitzø using incredibly sexual language throughout the episode, even when Blitzø repeatedly tells him that he doesn't want to be flirted with while he's working. (That's not even going into how he completely ignores Octavia's emotions/reactions to what's going on around her and just focuses on himself and what he thinks is a good idea in the moment. That's two for two on episodes where his stunning lack of self-awareness shines through).

Isn't in episode 3 or 4. Though I will take a second to acknowledge one line in episode 3 - when Blitzø charges into the room and challenges Verosika and her crew, one of the succubi says "Is this little imp boy starting a demon duel?" Yet another example of imps being treated as lesser by other demons.

Episode 5: The constant heavy-handed flirting in public, again, even though Blitzø repeatedly tells him not to, again. On top of that, there's the "itty bitty imps like yourself" comment that he makes to Blitzø while in bed, and not even a minute later, tells him in cutesy UWU baby talk that he's "sowwy his cwients wiw have to wait" - not taking Blitzø or his work seriously. And, of course, we get Striker telling Blitzø that Stolas treats him like a plaything.....

Episode 6: ......aaaaaand the very next episode has Stolas literally calling Blitzø his "impish little plaything". Side note, but I feel like most discussions about Stolitz's dynamic and the imbalance present in it focuses on this line in particular, but not the rest of his behaviour throughout the whole first season. He is constantly making aggressively sexual comments, oftentimes right after being asked or told not to by Blitzø, sometimes after being told more than once.

Episode 7, he's actually fine. Hiding his face when Ozzie singles him out isn't great, but he had just been publicly embarrassed, and if you watch in the background, he does get up from the table (likely about to try to help Blitzø) right at the end of Verosika's bit, before he's interrupted by Asmodeus. And while I'm certain he really did just want to "talk, or watch a movie, or cuddle", I can also see how easy it would be for Blitzø to interpret that as him asking to Netflix and Chill, as it were.

(Also, not a major thing, but having a little plush imp doll as a kid (as seen in S2E1) feels.....really weird, to me? Like I know most posts on SocMed and reactions on YT just see it as cute, and I'm probably reading too much into it, and I know that IRL toy dolls and stuffed dolls of people are a common thing, but just the idea of a prince having a plush doll of a low-class citizen feels really bad. A literal plaything, if you will.)

Season 2, Episode 2: Not much, but even though they had a tiny bit of a fight (if you can even call it that) after Ozzie's, and even though they haven't been communicating super well, and even though he's concerned about finding Octavia, Stolas still finds an opportunity to make a sexual comment towards Blitzø.

Season 2, Episode 4: Ohhhhhhhhhh my god, I never even used to be mad about this, but the way that it got brought up in Apology Tour made me pissed. Stolas now getting upset about Blitzø not coming to rescue him when Striker kidnapped him? Telling him that he "couldn't even be bothered to come help me"? Fuck. Off. With. That. As a father of a daughter himself, you'd think that Stolas would be sympathetic to the fact that Blitzø was trying to help out his own daughter in that scene, especially considering that he had to wait 5 fucking years for a mandatory medical procedure. Of fucking course he's not going to skip out on that! And just the way he responds to that:

Stolas: Oh, ha, ha. Well, I do agree that is very important...But, I-

(and then he's cut off by Striker). I urge anyone and everyone to go rewatch that bit of the episode, because his tone of voice is just so dismissive. Like, "yes, yes, that's nice, now drop everything and come rescue me, which is more important". And that's before he even realizes that he's in serious danger!!!

Like, I'm sorry, but where the fuck does he get off getting mad at Blitzø for "always making it about sex"? Blitzø has only ever reacted to the sexual advances that Stolas was putting out - even from the very first hook-up, Stolas just assumed that Blitzø was there to seduce him, and Blitzø just went along with it as a way to distract him while he stole the book. He agreed to the transactional fucking in episode 1 while he was being shot at and was trying to get Stolas off his back. He's expressed annoyance towards Stolas' sexual advances in episodes 2 and 5 of season 1. And now suddenly it's Blitzø that makes it all about sex?!

And what do you mean, "How many times do I ha-" Have to what, buddy? Tell him that you see him as an equal? You haven't done that yet. Tell him that you love him? You did that whole conversation in pretty much the exact wrong order and shut down when he didn't react like you imagined in your head. Tell him that you think highly of him? You haven't done that. Not directly to him, not where he could hear, not before the end of that argument, right before forcibly teleporting him away from you, which, y'know, just reinforces Blitzø's earlier comment about treating him like one of his butlers, and how he "can't just dismiss [him]."

He may not have ever actively viewed Blitzø as inferior to him, but there's a LOT of internalized classism going on that I'm not sure he's even aware of.

(continued in a later comment):

One thing I'd like to add to all of 👆 that: I mentioned a bit about other people in Hell talking down to imps, but one thing I forgot to talk about is how Stolas himself views imps that aren't Blitzø. Quick list (entirely from memory):

Refers to Millie and Moxxie as "you littler ones" in Loo-Loo Land

Refers to I.M.P. collectively as "you little creatures" in Truth Seekers

The generally condescending and dismissive way he talks to the imps of the Wrath Ring in Harvest Moon Festival - if I'm remembering correctly, he also refers to them as little! Like I get it, he's crazy tall, but we all know that's not the only way to interpret that comment.

3.5 Since Stolas (and a big chunk of the fandom) went ahead and compared Blitzø's comments to Striker's, I'm gonna do the same to him! Those comments are so reminiscent of Striker saying "you little things ain't worth the clean-up" to Moxxie and Millie, also from Harvest Moon Festival.

4. Picking up, forcefully squeezing, and swinging around his imp butler while he was mad during his phone call with Stella in Seeing Stars. I'm not saying that he's abusive towards his staff, or anything like that - just that the very fact that he did it at all seemed to be totally subconscious, which in turn suggests that he doesn't realize how demeaning that is.

5. Actually, now that I think about it - the fact that he's so upset that specifically Blitzø didn't rescue him in Western Energy. The main reason he's alive and not bleeding out in the bottom of a mine shaft is because Millie and Moxxie showed up, and they only knew to go there and help him because Blitzø told them/they were there during the phone call. Like, does he even know their names? Is he even grateful that they helped? We don't know!

I saw someone in another thread say that he was essentially at the equivalent of the "I'm not racist, I don't even see colour!" stage of racism, and I completely agree. He doesn't realize all of these internalized prejudices he has, but they are ABSOLUTELY there.

(comment on another thread, building off of the comments I made about s2e4, originally posted July 7, 2024):

Also, a few other points to build off of this & respond to other comments on this thread:

"But he didn't tell Stolas about the first time, and the Carmine-crafted gun that Striker had that can kill royal demons" - You mean the one that Moxxie took from him and still has in his possession at the end of Harvest Moon Festival? The one that Moxxie was shocked that Striker even managed to get his hands on? Remember, I.M.P. didn't know that Striker was working for anyone; logically, that means they would have assumed that he got the weapon entirely on his own, and something like that is both rare and expensive - imps don't typically "make it big" in Hell, and I can't imagine a powerful Overlord would be thrilled to give a weapon that could kill them to someone so far below them in status. With them taking it from him and keeping it at the end of the episode, it means that they would assume that he's no longer a serious threat. They had no way of knowing he was being bankrolled by a royal, with access to three more angelic weapons (two pistols and a knife) (four if you count the rope as well).

"Stolas: You knew someone was trying to assassinate me?" Uhhhhh, yeah? You were there for Loo-Loo Land, dude, you know that people are trying to assassinate you, like all the time. This isn't news in any way - and yes, Striker is generally more dangerous than any of the assassins that we saw in that episode, it still doesn't change the fact that you're already well aware that being rich and royal puts a target on your back. This is really unfair to get upset with Blitzø for. (I'm aware that this is an argument and sometimes you bring up unfair accusations in arguments and both of them were very heated and I shouldn't have to plaster every comment about this episode and this relationship with disclaimers that I'm not hating anyone, just expressing frustration.)