#but of course david's not going to be so quick to trust the guy who ran with the fucking reaver's... unlike laurie (a white girl)

[lovecatsys]

kinda forgot about this essential part of Josh's character. my boy will do anything to be loved

[coco-loco-nut]

In Your Mind

Pairing: Carlos x Reader

Summary: The next couple years with the love of your life

requests open masterlist first part

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The Spanish sun kisses your skin as you lay out by the pool at the home Carlos rented in Majorca, his favorite holiday spot. His family is a short drive away, also vacationing here. Carlos wanted to have you all to himself for the week.

You look incredible, mi amor

Care to join me, Carlitos, instead of ogling me?

Hm, I think I prefer watching you

Despite his statement, he lies on the lounge chair beside you. You watch his toned muscles flex. The past couple of days have allowed the both of you to grow incredibly close and know each other very well.

"Hypocrite," he laughs, noticing your focus on him.

"I was simply admiring, you looked like you wanted to devour me," you get up and walk to the pool, feeling warm in the sun. You dive in and when you surface, pushing your hair back, Carlos swears he hasn't seen anything more sexy.

"Cariño, you need to stop doing that, you are driving me mad," he says a little breathlessly. You swim to the edge of the pool.

"You better take care of that, before we have dinner with your parents," your smirk causes Carlos to look down and groan. He stands up and pulls you out of the pull, carrying you to the daybed by the pool. You've never been happier about the privacy the villa offered than at that moment.

After a quick shower, you and Carlos join his family at the villa the rest of his family is staying at. You get along well with everyone, thankfully for you. While Carlos talks with his parents, you talk with his sisters, Blanca and Ana, and his cousin, Carlos.

“He really likes you, when he called us, he told us all about you, then he mentioned that he met football legend David Beckham,” Ana tells you, the both of you giggling.

“That’s how he met me, he came over to speak to my dad. He also made me promise to invite some of my uncles to the wedding, whenever that is,” you share.

“That sounds like him, are you sure you want to stay with him?” Blanca asks teasingly.

“Perhaps not. I do suppose he’s better than other fans, especially the ones who are even bigger fans of my mom, those guys tend to be weird. He understands what it’s like to have a famous parent, so I guess I can put up with him asking to meet someone my dad played with once a week,” you look at your soulmate fondly.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Carlos, the cousin, asks and you give him a weird look.

“Of course I do, he’s my soulmate. I’ve loved him for years, even if I didn’t know who he was,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Not all soulmates like each other, but it is clear you two love one another,” Ana grabs your hand and squeezes it as you are called to the table. You sit beside Carlos, his hand resting on your thigh as you all enjoy the meal.

“I think it’s time we get going, someone is tired after all the sun today,” you tell his family a few hours later as you run your fingers through Carlos’s fluffy hair. He is visibly tired.

“Get back safely, I hope we see you again soon,” his mom hugs you, knowing Carlos will likely keep you to himself the rest of the week despite loving to be around his family.

“Thank you, especially for trusting me with your son,” you hug her back.

“Thank you for being a wonderful partner to him, I don’t think we could’ve asked for someone better,” she smiles as Carlos Sr walks over.

“Especially the daughter of a Los Blancos, especially one of the Galácticos,” Carlos Sr smiles.

“You and my dad will have to meet one day soon, I am sure he will love to talk football with you,” you smile politely, feeling the exhaustion settling in.

“Let’s get back to the villa, mi amor,” Carlos presses a kiss to the side of your head, bidding his family a goodnight.

The rest of the week is spent relaxing, cuddling, and learning each other. You decide that you want to travel with him when you aren’t working, and that includes the race he is going to straight from Spain.

Carlos is in a meeting at the track when you decide to send him a mental image of you in a bathtub. He takes a sip of water to hide his blush, trying to focus on the meeting and not the growing desire in his mind.

Ay! Cariño, I am in a meeting.

My bad, Carlitos, I didn’t realize. Well, now you have something to look forward to when you get back to the hotel.

You are just lucky I’m not driving right now. The meeting just ended, I’ll be there in 15.

“Lunch?” Charles asks Carlos, who is doing his best to hurry out of the room.

“Not today, I am going back to the hotel for lunch with Y/n,” Carlos says, his pace a little faster than normal. He regrets driving Charles to the meeting, knowing Charles needs a ride back to the hotel. Carlos wasn’t lying about having lunch, he may not be eating food, but he will be eating.

“She has you wrapped around her finger, smart woman. Alright, but you two are getting lunch with me and Alex tomorrow,” Charles brushes off the rejection. Carlos just nods, speeding a little more than usual to get back to the hotel. Charles chooses to attribute the odd behavior to Carlos getting used to the soulmate bond.

The few weeks that you’ve been together feels like years. Both of your fans find your relationship adorable, calling you the next David and Victoria. They aren’t wrong, like your Dad, Carlos would travel long distances just to spend a few minutes with you.

“You know what’s crazy? I would marry you right now,” you say softly as you lay in his arms one night. It’s not unusual for soulmates to marry after a month, after all, the bond is there for a reason, although some never marry because the bond is enough to them.

“I would say let’s do it, but I would have to ask your father first,” he agrees.

“Would I take your last name? How does that work in Spain?” You turn so you look at him.

“Well, no, usually you don’t take your husband’s name. I guess you could be Y/n Beckham de Sainz, but it would also likely come down to where we are married,” Carlos says, thinking over the logistics.

“I like the sound of that,” you test your potential married name out in your mind. “So what would our kids be then, if Spain has weird customs regarding taking your husband’s last name?” you ask, his heart beats a little faster when your hypothetically refer to him as your husband.

“Traditionally, it would be my last name then your last name, so they would be Sainz Beckham, but now it can be any order,” he says, already picturing a mini you running around.

“Sounds lovely,” you yawn. Carlos rubs you back soothingly, your cheek pressed against his bare chest.

“Go to sleep, mi amor, we can talk about it all you want tomorrow morning,” Carlos whispers, feeling your warm breath on his skin.

You never knew it, but he asked for David’s permission before leaving England. Carlos is incredibly grateful for the soulmate bond, he would choose you a million times over. He waits until the last race of the season to propose. You were with him for most of the races, only two conflicted with shoots you were booked for. You watch as he finds you right after the podium, sticky with champagne and sweat, and pulls you into a hug before getting on one knee.

“Y/n, you are my soulmate, my best friend, my favorite travel companion. These past eight months have been nothing short of incredible, and I want to formally make you mine. Will you marry me, Cariño?” Carlos asks, you stare at him in adoration.

“Of course I will,” you say, happy tears streaming down your face as he slides the perfect ring onto your finger.

I love you, Carlitos

I love you more

You don’t rush the wedding, planning it for after the next season. Your mom offers to design your wedding dress and Carlos’s suit, an offer you both happily accept.

“Let’s get married at Bernabéu,” Carlos suggests, partially to see your reaction, one night in his London pad. The two of you make an effort to not only talk mentally.

“No way, Carlitos, if we are getting married on a pitch, it will be Old Trafford,” you shift away from him, horrified at your fiancé.

“Mi amor, I was joking,” Carlos laughs, pulling you back. “I did get us tickets for the Champions League knockout match at Old Trafford,” Carlos says and your eyes widen. The game is only a few weeks away.

“You what?”

“Well, technically it was your dad who got the tickets, I just paid for them,” Carlos smiles, loving your excitement. He didn’t buy tickets, but he can’t tell you about the surprise.

“I haven’t been to a game in so long, you are the best, Carlitos,” you wrap your arms around him, tightly hugging him.

You end up in a box with your family and your dad’s former teammates. Except for your mom and Harper, they aren’t huge football fans. You are wearing one of your dad’s old jerseys while Carlos wears his white Real Madrid jersey.

Your dad wanted to surprise you, think of it like a pre-wedding gift

You look between Carlos and your dad with a huge smile on your face.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you hug him.

“Of course,” He squeezes you before letting you go so you can talk to your uncles. David takes the opportunity to catch up with Carlos.

“Uncle Gary!” You hug your father’s best friend.

“Hey kid, congrats on the engagement and finding your soulmate. Too bad he’s a Real Madrid fan,” Gary says, patting your shoulder.

“Yes, but look at him having the time of his life,” you chuckle, watching Carlos’s starstruck face as your dad introduces him to Figo, Zidane, Ronaldo, and Roberto Carlos.

“Is that Baby Beckham?” You turn around and notice Paul Scholes and Roy Keane approaching you.

“Who else would be wearing my Dad’s jersey?” you smile, giving them hugs. It has been a while since you were able to go to a game with your dad and his old teammates.

“Maybe your fiancé,” David Gardner shrugs. You did offer Carlos a replica of your Dad’s jersey from when he played for Real Madrid, but Carlos insisted that he had a lucky jersey.

“Yes, well, no one is perfect. He’s damn close though,” you chuckle.

“Language! Who taught you that?” Roy asks with a gasp.

“I believe we did,” Paul says, nudging his former teammate.

“Mi amor, I might marry your father instead,” Carlos tells you, only a little starstruck. Your uncles burst out into laughter.

“Carlos, these are my Uncles, Paul, Roy, David, and Gary,” you point them out individually.

“I’m her favorite,” David and Gary say at the same time.

“It’s Uncle Gary, he bought her her first beer and babysat her the most,” Brooklyn says, sliding up beside you.

Let’s go sit down, Carlitos. The match is starting

Good idea

You take a seat beside your brothers, which doesn’t bode well for Carlos when Real Madrid loses. The four of you celebrate as Carlos replays the mistake that allowed for a last minute goal. To make up for the loss, David convinces his former Madrid teammates to sign Carlos’s jersey.

“Have a safe flight to Maranello,” your dad hugs you goodbye after the game. Carlos is still a bit in shock.

That season, Carlos wins the WDC, and there is no better way to celebrate than getting married.

The ceremony is beautiful. You rented a large villa in Spain for the ceremony and reception. You didn’t intent for it to be a large star studded affair, but that was just the nature of the two of you getting married. Your mom hit it out of the park with her designs. The satin wedding dress fit perfectly, and wasn’t too simple and wasn’t too busy. Carlos’s suit was perfect, red and white subtle accents are a nice touch. You both cry a little when you see each for the first time.

“Carlos, you are my everything. There isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you. I never thought that finding my soulmate would be as great as this, I’d happily hear you sing Smooth Operator in my head in every lifetime if it meant being with you,” you tell him in your vows.

“I never thought I would meet my best friend and soulmate while playing a charity soccer match, but there is no other way I’d want to meet you. You take my breath away, make me a better person, and love Football as much as I do. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” Carlos squeezes your hands.

You are my everything, Carlos

You are the air I breathe, mi vida

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Safest Place is With an Angel

Requested Here!

Pairing: bodyguard!Deacon Kay x fem!singer!reader

Summary: The bodyguard you never wanted quickly gives a new meaning to the City of Angels. After he saves you and helps you sing again, all of your fears disappear in his safety.

Warnings: quick seduction joke (clean as always, guaranteed), angst, fights, brief depiction of injuries, threats, (poorly) attempted abduction, banter, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Buck!” Hondo yells from the ring. “Good to see you man!”

“Hey, old timer,” Luca adds. “How’s it going?”

“Good, good,” Buck answers, looking around. “Where’s Deacon?”

“Choosing favorites again?” Street inquires.

“Something like that,” Buck replies. “Where is he?”

“Locker room,” Street says.

Buck nods once in thanks then walks away to find Deacon. The rest of 20 David Squad watches him go, then quietly debates why he needs to see Deacon. They quickly decide that it’s either a security business thing or an intervention, which they are offended to be excluded from.

“Sergeant Kay,” Buck greets as he enters the locker room.

“Buck Spivey,” Deacon answers with a smile. “Did I miss a meeting?”

“No- well, not exactly. We had a potential client drop by unexpectedly. He’s looking for an executive protection agent for-“

“A bodyguard?” Deacon clarifies.

“Yes, Deacon, a bodyguard. He’s a music producer and one of his new artists is coming out to LA for a few days to record an EP - whatever that is. She needs protection, and, we’ll just say he liked the appeal of an active-duty police officer on our staff.”

“And you want me to take time off of SWAT to be a bodyguard for a few days?”

“For $50,000, yes.”

Deacon’s eyes widen when he hears the amount. He won’t see all of that, obviously, but it would more than cover his time off work.

“Buck, tell me straight, why me? None of the ‘he’s a cop’ stuff,” Deacon requests.

“She’s a singer, Deac. Not all of our men can be trusted one-on-one with a woman like that.”

“You’re picking me because I’m older and less likely to seduce her?”

“Or be seduced,” Buck adds, playfully agreeing.

“Fine, yeah,” Deacon agrees with a smile. “Let me run it past Hicks.”

“I already did that.”

“Buck,” Deacon sighs.

“I know you, Deac, so I just got a head start for you. You’re welcome. See you in the office!”

“Thanks, Buck.”

After Buck leaves, Deacon sits on the bench in the locker room. Fifty grand, he thinks, she must be a good singer.

“What was that about?” Street asks as he barges into the locker room.

“I’m taking a few days off to do an assignment from Buck,” Deacon answers.

“It wasn’t an intervention?” Luca inquires.

“For what?” Deacon questions.

“What’s the assignment? Private security instead of public?” Hondo jokes.

“Executive protection,” Deacon says.

“You’re a bodyguard?” Street exclaims. “That’s awesome!”

“For whom?” Hondo asks.

“I can’t answer that.”

“I knew we needed an intervention,” Luca sighs.

“Good morning. I’m Buck Spivey, and this is David Kay, your personal executive protection agent during your time in Los Angeles,” Buck presents. He turns to Deacon to introduce you as well.

As you shake hands with the man who insists you call him Deacon, you wish you were going to be in LA for longer. He’s incredibly handsome, and you could practically fall into his deep brown eyes. He’s the kind of guy you write songs about, not hide behind.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, smiling as you reclaim your hand from Deacon’s warm one.

“You, too.”

“I’m going to go over everything with Mr. Spivey, but Deacon has your schedule. I’ll see you at the studio, listen, not a moment before you’re scheduled,” your producer, Alex, says. “Thanks again, gentlemen.”

Deacon smiles and nods at Alex as he follows Buck out. You watch them leave, then drop your shoulders and shake your head.

“This probably isn’t your ideal job,” you begin, “but thank you, seriously.”

“Of course. Your schedule for today is pretty open, so where to first?”

“That’s the other thing. I know that Alex hired you to stay with me every waking moment, but no one knows who I am, so feel free to come and go as you want. You’ll still get paid the same.”

Deacon’s brows furrow as you speak. Buck made it seem like you were a big deal and the album you came to record was already getting massive attention. Your willingness to go out alone into, in Deacon’s opinion, one of the most dangerous cities in the US is unexpected.

“Look, it’s my job, and I do enjoy it, so I’m going to go where you go,” Deacon explains.

“Is that necessary?”

“It is. Not just because your producer paid for it, but because your safety is my top priority this week.”

“Fine,” you agree. “I wanted to go sightseeing today, but I have no idea where to start.”

“Then it’s a good thing you have a bodyguard who knows every inch of this city,” Deacon replies. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” you mumble as you follow him. “Great.”

Standing on an overlook off Mulholland Drive, you feel invisible and weightless. It’s the best you’ve felt in months. You close your eyes before you take in the view again. Standing behind you, Deacon surveys the area for potential threats, but his eyes keep returning to you. Something is going on, more than you simply not wanting a bodyguard.

“You were right,” you cheer as you return to him. “It’s way prettier up here. Where are you taking me next?”

“Um, look,” Deacon begins. “I know I’m only here for you in a professional capacity, but if you need anything, I’m here for you.”

Your phone buzzes before you can reply to Deacon’s offer. It’s probably for the best because you don’t want to acknowledge that there is more going on than what you let him see. The message from Alex is short, but you groan regardless. Deacon receives a text, too, and you know lying to him is not an option.

“There’s an event for songwriters at the Walt Disney Concert Hall tonight,” you tell him. “Alex wants me to go.”

“You don’t want to?” Deacon reads into your phrasing.

“It’s not that, just… I thought I’d get a break and get to do what I want instead of what Alex thinks I need to do. He’s a great producer and he’s one of the nicest guys in the business, but I think he forgets that we’re human too sometimes.”

“Then don’t go.”

You laugh and reply, “Yeah, that would go well. It’s fine. I need to go back to my hotel and get ready.”

Deacon waits a moment before he nods and gestures for you to walk before him. Most other men would make you feel uncomfortable, out of sight at your back, but you feel safer than ever with Deacon Kay with you.

Deacon raises his hand before your waist as you enter the hotel lobby. You bump into him as you stop, and he looks around before he murmurs for you to go.

“You seem on edge,” you muse as you board the elevator.

Deacon shakes his head and apologizes to someone else trying to get on. When the door closes on just the two of you, he sighs.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m a cop, a SWAT officer, and I guess maybe that gives me a sixth sense,” he says.

“And?” you press.

“Something feels off.”

“It’s probably just the schedule change.”

Deacon glances at you from the corner of his eye. You’re different, another in a series of sudden shifts has altered your behavior. At the office, you didn’t want Deacon to come with you, then you were open to sightseeing with him, and now you seem annoyed by his presence again.

“Wait,” he instructs as the elevator door opens.

He looks up and down the hallway, then holds the door for you to exit. When you reach your room door, he takes your key from your hand.

“What are you doing?” you ask shortly.

“I need to clear the room,” Deacon answers simply.

“Deacon, there’s no one in my hotel room. I think you’re overthinking the ‘bodyguard’ thing. You don’t have to go everywhere with me!”

“I’m not letting you walk into a room when I don’t know what’s waiting behind the door,” he argues.

“It’s a locked hotel room! Do you need to sit beside the tub while I shower, too?”

“Just let me go in, make sure it’s safe, and then I’ll come back out.”

You reluctantly hand the keycard to Deacon, and your body language is enough to tell him you are not pleased with this arrangement. When you cross your arms tightly and straighten your shoulders, Deacon assumes that you’re not worried about having left clothes on the bed or anything, but a deeper problem with having him so close.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises.

You blow a breath out of your nose in response, and Deacon reminds himself not to look at your face for too long. Buck had said you were pretty, but that did no justice to your beauty. Even when you’re annoyed by him, Deacon can’t help but be enraptured by every piece of you.

He slides the card into the door handle and then pushes the door open carefully. As it closes behind him, you drop your arms and lean against the hallway wall. A sudden noise makes you stand up straight again, and the following crash sends your heart to your stomach.

“Deacon!” you yell as you bang the side of your fist against the door.

Something breaks inside and the shattering echoes down the hall. With each sound, you become more desperate to get inside and ensure Deacon is okay. You have nothing against him, in fact, you’re actively trying not to write a song about him. He has to be okay.

“Deacon!” you yell again as someone grunts.

“Move!” Deacon demands.

You assume he’s talking to the person inside, but you step out of the doorway, regardless. The door opens quickly and as someone is shoved out harshly, you’re pulled inside. Deacon pushes you toward the bed as he locks the door and secures the deadbolt. He doesn’t look toward you as he pulls his phone from his pocket and begins typing quickly.

“Deacon,” you whisper as you stand. He doesn’t answer, and you continue walking to him. When you’re directly before him, you push his phone down and look at his face.

“I need to tell Alex,” he chides.

“You’re hurt.”

Deacon freezes when your fingers brush his jawline. Slowly, he drags his eyes from his phone to your face. The concern is evident in your eyes, and as they grow wet, Deacon can’t decide whether to push you away and keep working or wipe your tears away with kisses. He startles slightly at the idea; it’s completely unprofessional, but now that he’s thought of kissing you, he can’t stop.

“Uh, can you…” You exhale to keep yourself from rambling before you ask, “Can you sit down? Please.”

Deacon nods and moves to the foot of the bed. He presses send on the message to Buck, then sets his phone aside and waits for you. You return quickly with a wet cloth and a small first aid kit.

“I never travel without one,” you explain when you see Deacon’s eyes on it.

You press the cloth to his face, and Deacon doesn’t flinch. You're gentle and slow, but even if you weren’t, Deacon doesn’t think he could focus on anything other than you right now.

“You’re an idiot,” you say, pulling him from his admiration of you.

“What?”

“Why did you do that? You could have gotten killed!”

You turn to get a bandage, and your breathing changes suddenly.

“I helped you!” Deacon defends. When your face is squared with his again, his voice drops. “Whoa, are you… you’re crying.”

“I didn’t know what was happening in here. Don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry,” Deacon offers this time. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

You purse your lips as you place a flimsy blue bandage on Deacon’s hand. He knows it won’t stay on his knuckles, but he’ll stop moving if it will help you feel better and keep you beside him longer.

“I know it’s your job, but I’ve never had anyone protect me like that before, so, thanks,” you add.

“It is my job, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad for upsetting you. Like I said before, I’m here for anything you need.”

“You’ll be with me all night?” you clarify.

“As close as you want me.”

Deacon changed into a suit after he saw the dress you prepared to wear to the concert hall. He may be there for you and you alone, but that doesn’t mean he has to look like a bodyguard. You certainly didn’t argue once you saw how the well-tailored jacket fit across his muscular back and the deep blue drew even more attention to his eyes.

“I’m nervous,” you admit. “I know I’ve been pushing you away all day, but it wasn’t because of you, Deacon.”

“We don’t have to do this right now. I get it,” Deacon says.

“Maybe you are the break I was looking for,” you say softly, more to yourself than Deacon.

“Take it slow,” he encourages. “We’ll leave whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, but your eyes are constantly moving. You’re still unsettled after the run-in at the hotel, but there’s nothing more Deacon can do. Not in the public eye, at least. His words will have to get you through for now.

“There she is!” Alex cheers when he sees you.

The woman on his arm scoffs and mumbles, “Not much to her, is there?”

“What’s your number one?” another guest asks.

“Oh, I haven’t released any original songs yet,” you answer softly. “I’ve been writing and I’m here to record-“

“Alex,” the woman on his arm drawls. “You rejected my proposed artist for a no name? What drew you in, her pretty face?”

“Her songs,” Alex answers firmly. He may not give you the freedom you desire, but he also knows your worth and refuses to let anyone talk down to you. “Your proposed artist sounded like an Adele wannabe who got her finger pinched in the mic stand.”

Deacon stifles a laugh behind you, but you’re only growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

“Maybe I should just go,” you tell Alex.

“I agree,” another woman calls.

“Absolutely not,” Alex answers, freeing himself from the women around him. “You’re here as a songwriter. Let’s get away from these people living vicariously through their stars.”

Alex leads you further into the venue, but you watch over your shoulder to ensure Deacon is still with you. He nods in reassurance as he follows, his eyes on the move to spot anything before it can become another threat.

“Buck told me about the incident in the hotel,” Alex says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you answer.

“What incident?” Serena, one of Alex’s other artists, asks. “Babe, are you alright?”

“Just shaken up,” you admit.

You look back at Deacon again, but his attention is on the stage.

“Wait, so what happened?” Serena whispers to you.

“There was a guy in my hotel room. Deacon took care of it.”

“Deacon? You mean that jaw-droppingly gorgeous man who hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you walked in? Babe, you’re on a first-name basis with your bodyguard.”

“Watching me is his job,” you deflect.

“Serena, sorry to interrupt,” Alex says. “There’s someone here who’d like to meet you.”

“Tell me everything later,” she whispers as she’s pulled away.

Alone again, you take a deep breath and rest your hands on the back of your chair. Deacon steps closer to the table before he pauses.

“Please,” you say.

He closes the distance and stands beside you, close enough to touch if you were as open with physically showing your feelings as you are bearing them for all to hear in song lyrics.

“Excuse me, my name is Rydell. I’m Alex’s biggest competitor,” a man introduces before he laughs. It sounds forced, and you find yourself stepping closer to Deacon. “You must be Alex’s newest client, the one he was so excited to show off.”

Deacon moves his arm so he can feel you behind him as he replies, “Actually, I’m-“

“No, no, please don’t try to undersell yourself. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ve got a private suite back at the Ritz. We’ll head there, order some champagne, and maybe you could give me a private performance of your new songs.”

“Sir,” Deacon begins again.

“Oh, and Alex doesn’t need to know a thing about it. I’ll have you back by morning.”

Deacon’s brows raise as he asks, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Deacon,” you murmur.

“Rydell, is it? I have to applaud your effort, however sleazy it may be, but you picked the wrong target. I’m not the singer you’re after, I’m her bodyguard.”

Your heart races when Deacon refers to himself as yours. When the man blubbers as he tries to find an acceptable answer about why he wanted to take you away from everyone, you are harshly returned to reality.

“Get out,” Deacon demands.

Rydell nods and scurries away. Your eyes remain on Deacon and the dark look in his eyes that matches his clenched jaw.

“Was he trying to kidnap me?” you ask.

“I can’t be sure,” Deacon answers carefully.

“But you think he was.”

Deacon turns when he hears the strain in your voice.

“I should just go home. Singing has always been my dream but between the guy at the hotel and him hurting you, then this, I can’t-“

Deacon silently takes your hand, and your sentence ends abruptly. He strokes his thumb over the back of your hand as he leads you away from all the people. After he finds a quiet, dimmed hallway, he stops and turns toward you, keeping your hand safely in his.

“Take a few deep breaths,” he instructs. “I’ve got you.”

“How am I supposed to keep doing this? I haven’t even released anything and already people are doing crazy things,” you express.

“Well, the women at the door felt threatened. Rydell was misinformed about how strong and independent you are, and the man at the hotel was just an idiot trying to do something stupid.”

“But what happens when there’s more of them?” you whisper. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can. You can,” he repeats. “I’m right here to keep you safe.”

“And when you’re not?”

Deacon nods; he understands what uncertainty and fear are like. There’s no easy way to answer your question, but he can help you feel safe for the rest of the night and the remainder of your time in Los Angeles. No matter what it takes.

Standing in the recording booth, you freeze behind the microphone. Singing is an emotional experience, an outlet; right now, you only feel nervous and uncertain. Your future relies on this album; if this is the future, you aren’t sure you want it.

“Let me go in,” someone says faintly through the speaker above you.

Several people are waiting in the sound booth beside you. Alex, the audio tech, Deacon, and two of your best friends and fellow singers. You’ve forgotten about them easily, so you know this isn’t stage fright.

Someone knocks on the door, and you look up from your lyrics as Deacon steps inside.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

You look toward the one-way glass, worried about expressing something you shouldn’t in front of your friends and colleagues.

“They’re gone,” Deacon assures. “I asked for some privacy, thought you could use it.”

“Thank you,” you reply. “I just- everything is a mess, and I don’t know where to start.”

“I heard the music while the tech guy was setting everything up. It’s really good.”

“I appreciate that. Lyrics come pretty easily, but finding the music to express the same stuff as the words is harder.”

“Yet the best artists make it look easy. Like you.”

You suddenly remember something. While you showered this morning, you asked Deacon to sit in your hotel room. Through the thin walls of the bathroom, you heard him humming. Deacon can sing.

“Would you… Will you sing with me? Just to help me get started, I mean,” you ask softly.

Deacon smiles as he happily says, “Of course.”

You step to the side so Deacon can stand beside you and see the sheet music with the lyrics printed on it. It’s not your preferred method of recording, but right now, you’re glad to have it. After you press play on the computer beside you, music fills the room, and you and Deacon begin singing together. He’s better than you anticipated after hearing his humming, and he smiles brightly during your performance of the bridge. You fail to remember what life was like without Deacon. Not that you’d want to.

The music fades and you throw your arms around Deacon’s neck to hug him tightly. He chuckles as he returns the hug, his arms tight around your waist as he tucks his chin against your shoulder.

“You’re amazing,” he applauds.

“Me? I should sign my record deal over to you!” you argue. “You sound like an angel! You are an angel, aren't you, Deacon?”

“Please don’t trade yourself in without my permission,” Alex says through the mic system.

“Alex,” Deacon groans.

“You asked for two minutes, Sergeant. I gave you two minutes. Besides, if I hadn’t come back, we wouldn’t have that performance recorded.”

“I think I’m ready,” you interrupt. “But can I do track 8 next?”

“Anything you want,” Alex answers. “And thanks again, Deacon.”

“For what?” you ask, speaking to Deacon rather than Alex.

“His contract is over. He didn’t have to come with you today,” Alex says.

“Why?” you ask Deacon.

He steps away from the microphone and brushes his fingers along your arm as he whispers, “I didn’t want to walk away yet.”

You lift your eyes to Deacon’s and smile in the proximity. He taps a knuckle against your hip, and you glance down as he makes a phone signal with his hands.

“I do have to get to work,” he says. “But I’ll be watching for that album.”

“Thank you, Deacon, for everything.”

Deacon winks before he exits the studio. You breathe out through your newfound permanent smile and flip to a page of scribbles.

“Does he know?” Alex asks. “That the album only had seven songs before you met him?”

“I think he will,” you answer. “Let’s go.”

“Oh my gosh!” Chris yells. “Am I fangirling? Is this what it feels like?”

“What are you talking about?” Luca inquires.

She points excitedly and explains, “She has the best cover of my favorite song I’ve ever heard. Why do you think she’s here? Would it be wrong to ask for an autograph?”

“Just ask Deac,” Street says from inside the situation room.

Chris, Luca, and Hondo turn to face him, and he sighs as if being the smartest guy in the room is exhausting him daily.

“Ask Deac what?” Chris asks.

“To introduce you. He’s been listening to her music nonstop.”

“He listens to covers?”

“When he’s in love with the girl that sings them, yeah. Am I the only one who pays any attention around here?”

“Easy,” Hondo warns. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Connect the dots, Hondo. He leaves to be a bodyguard, and comes back all soft and sappy, listening to cover songs every minute he can. She was the body to be guarded, and David Kay liked what he saw.”

“What did I see to like?” Deacon asks as he enters.

Chris wordlessly points to you, and Deacon’s eyes light up as he rushes through the situation room to reach you.

“Well, Street was right,” Hondo muses. “For once.”

“Whatever, old man,” Street grumbles.

“You’re here!” Deacon calls. “Why are you here?”

You smile as you reach up and hug him. “I, um, I couldn’t leave.”

“But I thought-“

“That I had excessive doubts about staying in LA and being a singer?” you finish for him. “I did. But then this great, really attractive bodyguard held my hand and told me everything would be okay.”

“And you believed him?”

“If you could see his eyes, you’d understand that I had no other choice but to fall for him.”

“Oh,” Deacon replies. “So…”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” you and Deacon ask simultaneously.

“I think that translates to yes, from both parties,” Street says as he walks by with a tablet.

“Who is that?” you ask Deacon.

“A fan in the making,” he answers. “Speaking of which, my teammate Chris wants an autograph. Are you sure LA is the right choice?”

“There’s only a few months until the album releases, so the back and forth wasn’t worth it. Plus, that bodyguard I mentioned kinda lives here.”

“Well then,” Deacon murmurs, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against his chest. “Let’s make sure LA’s prettiest, best-voiced resident feels safe.”

“I’m not trained to do that for you,” you joke.

“Just keep that cute little band-aid kit around and I’ll handle the rest.”

“Don’t get hurt for me again,” you warn. “Because I can’t-“

Deacon cuts you off with a kiss, and you melt against him as your fingers brush across his jawline.

“You can’t what?” Deacon asks against your lips.

“Just kiss me,” you answer, though your voice is muffled against him. “I’m safe right here.”

“Deacon!” Chris yells when you pull back. “Did you ask about the autograph?”

[debbiechanclub]

Hello

I have a question that im really curious to ask

What would be Nellie like in the bullet club?

Like as her character and I’m also really curious if her and David did make public their relationship

TOO SWEET

MEG🌼

Hi, Meg! I LOVE that you're curious about this and I'm more than happy to answer!

So, the main thing that Bullet Club (and really, David) has done for Nellie is restore her confidence. She'd really been sort of beat down and burnt out by both her career and personal life until David came back to Japan for the G1 Climax 32 (2022). He really reminded her that she's a bad ass who deserves more than just the status quo, and so Bullet Club Nellie is a lot more assertive and aggressive. But she doesn't talk shit that she can't back up on her own; she's not chickenshit heel Bullet Club 😉

She's also actually really good friends with all the War Dogs and (surprise, surprise) I have a lot of thoughts about her dynamic with each of them.

After David, Nellie is the closest with Clark. She definitely looks at his antics like wtf is wrong with you (affectionate), because while he can be an absolute menace inside the ring and out, he's also a super genuine person who cares a lot about his friends. And idk, they just have fun together. But sometimes he def tries to flirt with her and David shuts that down real quick 😂

Then there's Gabe, and Nellie tries her best to be his voice of reason lmao. Like she wants to be the angel on his shoulder when all the guys are being devils 😂 She just cares about him and knows he's had kind of a rough go of it and wants to see him do well. I think part of her feels bad about the way Jay treated him when he was a Young Lion, too 😂

I definitely think that, in actuality, Alex is the kind of person who if he gives you a hard time it means he likes you, and that's def the vibe with him and Nellie. He talks a lot of shit to her just because he's from NYC and she's from Philly and there's that natural rivalry there. But she always laughs at his dumb dad jokes so she's cool in his book.

As for Dan, he's ride or die for his friends and family, and Nellie knows he has her back 100%. Also, I've talked about this with @aussiearrow - Dan (and also Gabe) has definitely fired back at rando dudes who say weird, creepy shit in the comments of Nellie and Torrance's socials 😂

Which brings me to David 😊 When I saw that you asked if he and Nellie had made their relationship public, at first I was like, "What do you mean? She went out there with him for Dominion, of course they made it public." But then I realized they didn't kiss or anything out there, so I guess that's not definitive 😂 But yes! They make it public (and neither of them gaf what Jay thinks about it 🤭). And sometimes Nellie is purposefully obnoxious about their relationship. Like you know how David has been leaning into the fact that he's a rich nepo baby? Well, Nellie has definitely made a post somewhere saying something like, "I don't have to wrestle anymore because daddy takes care of me, but I'm too good not to" 💀. But that's just her leaning into her heel stage persona 😂

So yeah, there's my essay of an answer (and I could have written more, trust). But seriously, it made my day seeing this in my inbox, and I hope I've answered your question! And feel free to ask any others you may have!

[cruel-summerxy]

labyrinth - brad bakshi x reader

summary ➞ ever since brad came out of prison, he has tried to be a better person. when a stranger tests him he decides to be nice and its a good thing he does . word count: 2k words

a/n ➞ I'm back! this is going to be in multiple parts, so yay! I already have the second part started, so I'll probably post it tomorrow! a little gnf cameo in here too. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

based on ➞ taylor swift's song "labyrinth"

you know how scared I am of elevators, never trust it if it rises fast 

Brad isn’t an easy guy to know. Sometimes he wakes up early and does some quick cardio before going into work– other times the only thing the man does is brush his teeth before catching a bus to work. As of lately, it was the latter. He is in a slump. The man is obviously glad that he is part of Mythic Quest once again, even if it was as the janitor (recently promoted as a fucking assistant), but he sometimes misses the chaos. He misses being in the conference room, he misses screaming at a random person who has no authority and therefore cannot help, he misses scaring the new hires. Brad misses all of this and more, but he is a changed man.

Everyday that he had been in prison he liked to imagine that the company had been in pure chaos without him. Now he has tickets to the front row. David had obviously hired new people and those people have no idea who he is. Although he isn’t proud of it, it brings a smile onto his face when he eavesdrops at their conversations. Hearing that deadlines have to be met, budgets having to be readjusted, and whatnot brings him joy now (it’s truly pathetic).

Even though he had been gone for a while, Brad knows that he still has the ability to manipulate those around him. The browned-eyed man was able to prove himself by getting Rachel to take his old job; he tells himself that he had helped her for his own benefit, but the truth is that the girl is smart and he does want her to succeed. Old Brad would’ve rolled his eyes, but new Brad can only smile at what he has achieved (he smiles alone though, he doesn’t want to give the wrong impression to others). He was able to get the workers their bonuses and maybe it was the Christmas spirit but he had been happy and giddy. His happiness hadn’t been unacknowledged, David and Rachel gave each other a look when they heard Brad sing along everyone else Christmas morning. 

Ever since Christmas morning something felt different. So he decides to wake up early and to take a trip to the coffee shop near his home. Brad grabs his lunch bag (he had decided to cook his own food) and makes his way out the door. Even though he lives on the fourth floor, Brad walks down the stairs. He had skipped his workout and he told himself it was better than taking the elevator. 

He can’t help but to whistle as he makes his way to his favorite coffee shop. His body trembles as the breeze comes to him. Even though it is pretty cold, it is a beautiful day. The sun is out, not helping him warm up but it sure does look nice. As he enters the shop he mentally curses, of course there would be a long line

“It’s okay Brad. You have time,” he assures himself. Old Brad would have rolled his eyes and left the place. He would have proceeded to send someone from the office, but alas he was a new man (he also didn’t have someone that could just drop everything for a stupid coffee).

After what seems like forever Brad was next. 

“What can I get for you?” a middle aged woman asked. He stands there wondering what he should actually get. He often opts for a black coffee, but today he craves something sweet. During his time in prison he would often wish that he was sipping a sweet old caramel frappe, with extra caramel drizzle– of course. 

“Could you be any slower,” someone groans behind him. Now, old Brad would have made some remark, but he decides against it. He decides that today is a good day and that it's simply not worth it. So he turns around and sees that it was a woman in her early-twenties who had spoken earlier.

“What would you recommend?” Brad asks with a small smile on his lips. A blush covered the woman, making Brad laugh. She bites her lip and thinks about it. Brad’s eyes stay on her and he is now crossing his arms, waiting patiently for her to give her input. She studies him for a moment before she answers him.

“An iced caramel macchiato,” the woman croaks out. 

Brad then turns without giving her a second glance and loudly orders two iced caramel macchiatos, “one for the lady behind me.” As soon as he is done ordering he positions himself where the woman would see him. Although he was trying to be better, old habits die hard.

“I’m sorry about that,” the lady whispers, standing in front of him. He looks up, pretending that she had frightened him. Brad cocks his head, taking a good look at her. “It’s just that I’m already late for this meeting and you were taking a while to order.”

“You should’ve woken up earlier,” Brad lectures her. Well, so much for not acting like old Brad; he just couldn’t resist it. The lady nods her head and proceeds to stand next to him. The two of them remain silent, waiting for their drinks. She sniffles next to him and he can tell that she is sick. He notices the pack of tissues that are stuffed in her coat’s pocket and even though she has makeup on, Brad can tell that her nose is red.

“You should’ve said a medicine ball tea,” Brad says as he checks the time on his phone. The baristas are taking their time and he is losing his patience. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he was okay with time. She turns to him and sighs.

“Yeah… well I did order that for myself,” the lady confesses, “I kind of thought you were going to order both of the drinks and then leave me without any.”

He turns to her and lets out a laugh, “that's good. If it had been any other day, I probably would have done that. I’m trying to do better, plus I did take forever to order.” 

Her eyes soften up as she hears him talk. Brad notices this and can tell that she is no longer on edge. He is about to say something when the barista calls out his name and their drinks. Brad stands up, rubbing his hands together, he can taste the caramel on his lips already. He utters a quick thanks and strides back to the woman. Their hands touch for a moment as he hands her the coffee. He knows it’s nothing, but he can’t help but to smile at her. 

The woman breaks the little trance that he was in by coughing and now he’s disgusted. He hasn’t gotten sick in years and there he is, shaking hands with someone who clearly should not be going into work, nor a coffee shop.

“I’m sorry, but I really have to get going. Thank you for the coffee Brad,” the lady speaks softly as her eyes come across his name on the cup. 

“You haven’t gotten your medicine ball,” Brad points out. She shrugs and he steps aside and allows her to pass by. Brad stands inside the busy cafe, watching as the door swings and he is puzzled. He hadn’t gotten her name, but he’s certain of one thing: he has seen her before. 

He could wait for a name and a medicine ball to be called, but Brad decides against it. It’s a bit late and he has a meeting to attend to. 

.. 

Brad sighs as he opens a side door. He has taken the stairs once again and now he is out of breath. He hasn’t taken a sip out of the drink that the lady had recommended yet. He spots Jo and shoots a smile at her. The woman scrunches her face and continues walking to him.

“You’re sweaty Brad,” The blonde woman points out.

“No shit. I just walked up six flights of stairs,” Brad thinks to himself. He reminds himself to play nice and shoots her another smile.

“Are you seriously going to keep acting like that?” The blonde woman groans. She has grown tired of the way that Brad has been acting. Jo used to look up to Brad, they would scheme together and now he smiles at everyone. She sighs sadly at Brad, “what happened to you in prison?”

Brad laughs at her question, “nothing. I had a great time there. I’m just a changed man Jo.”

Jo says nothing and leaves Brad’s side. In a way, Jo is right; Brad has changed drastically within the last year. It was for a good reason though. He had become close to those who had worked around him (even if he didn’t show them) and his brother had come in and almost (using this term very loosely) ruined it. One night when he had been in his prison cell, Brad had come to the realization that he had been miserable and rude to those around him for no reason. So now that he is out, the man smiles at his peers, he sometimes helps others, and he is nice to strangers. Life is too short.

Brad slowly makes his way across the floor and hears the people around him chatter. He sits on a random couch to catch his breath. He decides to finally try his drink and a disappointed sigh comes out of his mouth, the macchiato is no frappe. It was no secret that he had a sweet tooth, maybe he should have told that information to the stranger. 

His thoughts are long forgotten and his eyes grow wide. He stands up and he sets down his disgusting coffee; inside the conference room stands the stranger. Brad quickly scans the room and she is standing next to a tall man. He observes them,  his eyes light up and he remembers who the man is. The guy was some twitch streamer– GeorgeNotFound. 

“What a stupid name,” Brad mutters to himself. He had seen some of his streams before, but he hated his streamer name. He had forgotten that Rachel had wanted to add streamers to the Mythic Quest campaign. That’s why Brad had recognized her! He had been researching George the day before, orders from Rachel, and she had been in some of his posts. His heart then drops as he remembers that he was supposed to be in that meeting. 

They seem to be discussing something and before he can think it through, Brad stands up straight and walks into the conference room. All eyes land on him and David lets out a squeak. “What are you doing here Brad?”

Brad ignores him, “Hello, I just wanted to officially introduce myself; I am Brad Bakshi.” He offers George and the stranger a smile. 

“Hello,” a nervous smile decorates the stranger’s face. She extends her hand, Brad shakes it happily. He can hear her sniffling– the coffee he had bought her probably making her more sick. A red tint covers her neck, letting him know that he has an effect on her. He can’t help but to smirk– he still has it. “I’m Y/N and this is George.”

“Well nice to meet you both,” Brad leans against a chair, “I hope you find Mythic Quest good.” He finds himself fixing his posture and his eyes remain on the stranger– Y/N. The woman opens her mouth, but before she can let out a word David begins speaking.

“Brad, please leave. We are having an important meeting and… your services are not needed.” The white man smiles, telling himself that he did good. Brad is about to argue that Rachel had wanted him to be there but ultimately decides no to. 

“Okie dokie. I’ll see you two around.” 

[wwhatev3r]

Easy Company Preference: having a Summer Day

I went to a river yesterday, and I had this idea while I was there. You can imagine the background as being in a Beach, river, lake or even a pool. Basically, just the boys having a summer day. Whatever you like :) | Gif by  @whatelsecanwedonow​ |  I recommend to read everything because the characters headcanons are connected. 

Carwood Lipton - Just imagine him sitting in his towel with his swim shorts and a white clean shirt, watching the boys. Just in case someone would drown. He would hand the food and remind the boys to use sunscreen. I can see him with the sunscreen on his cheeks and holding a floater. 

Dick Winters - This man would be swimming around, far away from everyone and minding his own business. Of course, he would keep an eye on the boys while talking to Nix by the water. He trusted Lip and Speirs to keep an eye on them. 

Lewis Nixon - The only person who can make him go into the water is Winters. I can see him being like that uncle; always with a beer in his hand, just looking around, maybe even grilling with Bull. Also, I feel like his hair would look like the fur of a wet dog after getting out of the water.

Ronald Speirs - This man would stand most of the time under a tree, with sunglasses and even using binoculars to keep an eye on the company while they were in the water. He is a sun avoider. Sometimes he would go talk to Lip (to make fun of the boys). While one was in the bathroom the other would take charge in looking over the guys (yes, like a patrol.) Just imagine: “Private Luz, don’t you dare jump out of that rock. Liebgott, don’t drown your colleagues!” / He thinks it’s still a work day, so 0 fun. (He even turn down some girls because of it.)

Joseph Liebgott - I can see him being that person pushing people’s head under the water. Idk why. He also would play volleyball with some of the guys, and he would be the best one. At the point that they would quit playing with him. He sings a LOT.  This mf tried to act brave by challenging Bill for a swim race and regretted his choice.

Bill Guarnere - He refuses to use Sunscreen. “Sunscreen is for quakers!” | He spends the day mostly playing sports and eating food. Him, Lieb, Luz, Babe, Malarkey and Muck would make a competition to see who can hold their breath underwater the longest. He completely lost the competition and got so angry. Btw, he and Babe drink too much and never get drunk. 

George Luz - The Soul of the Party. I can see him cheat in the underwater competition. He would be that one person who would run into the water to splash water to the people who take the longest to get in. That person is Shifty. He can’t stop eating watermelon. Also, he is the idiot who feeds the seagulls. 

Donald Malarkey - This man needs to use the whole sunscreen bottle. His skin is too sensitive so it gets red really quick. Him and Muck make sandcastles competitions and play pranks on the rest of the guys. (They put seaweed on Lip’s face when he falls asleep.) He eats too much snacks.

Warren “Skip” Muck - Him, Malarkey and Penkala are the golden trio. He is that wierdo who uses goggles and a stupid hat. He catches fishes with a bucket just to free them right after. He is the one who reminds Malarkey to use Sunscreen and get’s all dirty eating ice cream. 

Shifty Powers - He is so quiet. He would help Muck catch the fishes, since he is the most observant. He takes a while to get in the water. Also, if you guys were in a river or in a more natural place, he would spend most of the time in that space; watch butterflies, plants and different animals. He will be the one who makes sure everything is clean and no one throws any garbage on the beach. 

David Webster - He is in his natural habitat. He just loves water, principally the ocean (if that’s the case.) If it was, he would definitely spend his time writing poems about it. He has a boat so he would let the boys go for a ride. If it was a more natural place (like a river or a lake), he would stay with Shifty. Both would teach each other things about different species and plants. Btw, this man has the most random facts about the ocean, mostly about sharks.

Babe Heffron - This poor boy barely stepped on the water and got burned by a jellyfish (He was pushed by Bill and Luz.)  Eugene took care of him and he didn’t get in the water for the rest of the day, which is okay, I feel like he wasn’t a very good swimmer anyway. He played cards with Luz, Martin and some other men, and found some really cool seashells with Roe. 

Bull Randleman - As I said, he was in charge of grilling and making the food for the company. Just imagine him with his cigar and an apron saying “Kiss the cook”.  I also think he would be the guy who would pull the smaller guys out of the waves. | “You’re fine Perconte, don’t worry boy.” If any man dared to catcall a lady, I swear, just Bull’s gaze would make them tremble. 

Eugene Roe - I can see Eugene with sunscreen on his cheeks and a medical box by his side in the towel. He only got his feet in the water and was only one time. He is just not a big fan of swimming. He will help the guys with the towels when they are leaving the water and I’ts cold. I feel like most guys will come to him to help them put sunscreen on their backs. He is just trying to relax, but he can’t. 

Joe Toye - He loves to play sports with the guys. Also, he is that one person who doesn’t want to go to the water alone. Btw, he is one of the guys who asked Eugene to put sunscreen on his back. He hurted his knee playing football with Bill and instantly got up and continued, giving zero fucks. He would bring ice cream for everyone for sure, and would get so angry if he had sand in his food.

Frank Perconte - He hates sand so much and doesn’t want to get sunburned for nothing in this world. He also loves to play sports with the guys and tries to act cool by going to a deep area of the water and then Bull has to go pick him up. I feel like he would be that person who would get really mad if you drop a grain of sand on his towel. 

Floyd Talbert -  He got hit in the head by a volley ball because he was standing by the net while flirting with a group of girls. He never made the same mistake again. He doesn’t want to wet his hair because he might ruin it. He has the most beautiful swim shorts, let me tell ya. He is the one who chooses the music that is playing. Him and Lieb got into a discussion because of it. 

Johnny Martin - This man will fuck you up if you put the music too loud or leave garbage in the beach. He makes sure Luz or Bill don’t eat lunch for the third time or steal food from anyone’s plate. The one who screams at everyone commanding them to run after the parasols when they start flying with the wind.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[konako]

how strong do you think ruby is? (physically)

Do not get me started— I can't even say it! You've clearly and purposefully gotten me started now and I cannot stop until I run out of words!!

The critical question that comes before this one is: Can we trust (and follow!) OUAT's rules for its werewolves?

Can we? And what even are they? What are we accepting as canon? The book? The comic? Dialogue, actual scenes as they played out? Hints and assumptions? What are we supposed to follow and believe, here? They’re all over the place!

Because — and please do stay with me as I butcher math here for a second —

Here we have Ruby catching a falling Whale with one hand with ease. Keep that in mind, okay? Look at that. Really look at that. Are you looking? Okay.

Now let’s take a look at numbers. (Don’t worry, it won’t hurt) 

What does he weight approximately? And how tall is he? 1,83m, 75~80kg. (Or so bodysize.org tells me)  That’s his weight standing still, right? 

But here Ruby is catching him.

In free fall.

With one hand.

He had jumped and fallen just about his entire height — the ground is right over his head there. He travelled that distance (183cm) downwards, accelerated by gravity. So there’s a velocity to this short fall.

That’s (according to https://www.omnicalculator.com/’s Free Fall Calculator)

So he’s going 5.991m/s right there. That's enough to give him momentum, right?

Then

If he’s 75kg:

and  if he’s 80kg:

That’s 449.3kg at the lightest and 479.3kg at the heaviest. 

With one hand.

Not even budging.

The arm that’s on the ground supporting her body doesn’t even bend. Doesn’t even shake. Doesn’t move. It’s clean and quick. She catches him without flinching, no faltering, no straining. Simple and easy.

(Why yes, that is, ~um, actually~ Meghan Ory only pretending to catch David Anders as he’s suspended from a wire. She is not actually, in reality, applying or resisting any force. That’s the magic of editing—But, hey! It still matters!)

What you put on screen matters. How you put it on screen matters. If we see Ruby catch a grown man as he’s falling, with one hand, with ease, then we’re right to admire her strength. We’ve been clearly prompted to, right?

Of course. It’s on-screen. They planned it, they prepared for it, they scheduled that shooting, they called in the guys: They had to use a wire and then erase the wire, because a normal human woman can’t hold a grown man over the water with one hand, let alone when he’s falling! They had to fake it, to make it look like, to Ruby, that’s not only possible, but easy.

They put some thought into it, they planned how to show it and how to frame it and how to score it and which sounds to add and how to bring it to life so that we would firmly believe it and— it worked! 

I sure believed it! I believed Ruby, skinny and unassuming, could catch Whale like that.

I believed Ruby could hold 479kg with one hand without effort.

That’s what they expected, right? Surely. That is not the only evidence of Ruby’s strength, though it is the most salient. 

I mean, 

Here she is flipping yet another grown man (good for her) over on his back while he’s still in the air. And that’s only using her hands! No feet used. Just her speed, her strength and some neat instincts. And then, boom, on his ass in a second.

And then,

Ruby freaking out because the wolf broke out of the reinforced freezer that Granny worked on to keep the wolf locked? 

(Note: The same Granny that speaks of the wolf as this killing machine who can’t be beaten and should not be faced as it already won just by existing in the world? 

Yeah, that Granny, so notably and vocally fearful of the wolf, reinforced the freezer herself. And Ruby still managed to break out of it. A freezer designed by the one person who has seen the wolf up close, many times, enough to fear it and resort to magic to keep it locked. She took on the job to make a cage for it. The woman who carries a crossbow with silver-tipped bolts, that woman. She said, “Leave it to me, I can make a cage good enough to stop it”. And then. Oops. Awfully miscalculated, it seems! — if only they had used an online calculator)

Anyway! 

That’s what “In The Name Of The Brother” set up for us: Ruby being strong as hell.

That was the hint, the assumption, the subtle rule sneaked in that colored a bit more of the werewolves of OUAT. Good shit. Nice lore. I can picture them a little bit better now, thanks!

But then we had— Tiny. The episode and the character. The giant that shrunk and needed saving because he fell in a hole.

So let me tell you about holes. 

It’s a big one. 

Ruby being merely part of the crowd that helped David (human, ordinary, normally-strong David) pull Tiny back up to the ground. 

She was part of the crowd. Not the one person to easily pull him up. No. She was part of a crowd. Of other human, ordinary, normally-strong people. Pulling on a goddamn rope. 

Excuse me, what? Pardon, what the fuck?

She just demonstrated — an episode ago! — that she can easily hold 479kg with one hand. Why do they need all these people around to help Tiny? Is she alone not enough? What is this bullshit? That’s another hole! PLUG IT UP IMMEDIATELLY. I don’t want to stare at it for one second longer, it’s messing up the sweet sexy werewolf rules!.

So, okay, why? Why didn’t she do the job herself, all alone? Is it because she’s not strong enough? Well, my headcanon (which has been previously supported by canon, and math) can’t accommodate that. It makes no sense. She is strong enough to do it alone. She could. So easily, she could.

So why, you and I ask? (I assume you are on my side on this) 

Here is my DIY plug for this hole: Because Tiny needed to see that people were there to help him. He needed to feel safe in that town, held by that community, surrounded by good people. It was the only way he could trust that 1. David is not his evil twin brother and 2. this town is a good place with good people that work in synchrony together to help others. And that’s what he needed to see. Tiny, the character, needed that the town mobilized this kind and willing crowd to help him. And he needed that David be the one to pull him out of the hole alone. Not Ruby — which, to him, is a strange woman. It was not about the mechanics, the cold logistics of this operation, it was about this great act of human kindness, people coming together to help one in need. Ruby doing it alone would defeat that purpose and not convey that message.

That’s what I offer, to help that clumsy writing. Hell, that’s what I’m offering, so we can keep believing that Ruby can hold 479kg with one hand without effort.

And, really, that’s just the canon point of reference. We can use it to explore the area around! 

Is that her full strength? Was that her warm-up? What can she do with two hands? (Dorothy answers that) Is her strength affected by the moon? (If so, then that’s her at a weak point, because this episode takes place after Wolfstime, during a waning moon — a new moon being her weakest point) If she were to flash her eyes golden, would that help with her strength, or does it not have a direct effect on it? 

Naturally, for someone who can hold 479kg with one hand without effort, it’s no big deal to carry someone in her arms, right? It’s no problem to help them on a horse or off it, for example. And it’s easy to, let’s say, break down a door that urgently needs to be open. Or, huh, wrestle a handgun away from a mugger or punch a creep unconscious. Or maybe, if several people need saving at the same time, she could carry them all, right? It’s mostly about stacking them and the logistics of it, at this point, if 479kg in one hand is no problem. What about bending things and breaking things and moving things and stopping things? Changing a tire, when the jack-lifting-thingy is nowhere to be found? Shit, carrying the trash out, helping friends move, moving shelves and refrigerators.

All of it!

If she can hold 479kg with one hand without effort, what else can she do?

That’s just the beginning! 

What do you think? 

[going-dead]

Lightning Scars and Listening Ears

Phic phight prompt by @datawyrms : Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone. (feel free to be metaphorical if you want.) l

Team Human: @currentlylurking​

Most citizens of Amity Park often forgot that Phantom wasn’t human. Sure he would fly through the skies, turn invisible, and shoot ectoplasm at the ghosts who would attack the city on a daily basis, but the way he acted when not saving the city always seemed so alive. That’s where the problem lied though. The ghost kid wasn’t alive, a fact that Amity Park never actually thought much about.

Phantom was playing around with some kids in the park when it all happened. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the boy play with the younger citizens of the city, under their parents supervision most of the time. Seeing him give them piggyback rides and playing tag was actually a common sight when there were no ghosts to fight. Phantom had six different kids hanging off of his arms and legs, apparently trying to tackle him and get him to fall down. The group of parents laughed at the sight as the teenage hero fell to the ground admitting his defeat in a dramatic flourish. “Ahh you got me! Foul villains, you will regret this!” He laughed as he lunged at the closest kid and launched a tickle attack. Childish squeels rang out as the uncaptured children ran trying to avoid being tickled. The little girl in his arms was finally released from her attacker when she turned on Phantom and started to tickle him back. His laughter attracted the other kids who scattered and they joined the counter attack.

“I yield I yield!” He flailed his arms as a dozen little hands tickled any spot they could reach. The kids slowly let up their assault leaving the teen gasping for breath.

One of the children, the girl who started the attack on Phantom, pulled on his arm. “Mr. Phantom? What’s that did you get a owie?” She asked pointing to his neck where part of his jumpsuit wrinkled down revealing a few red raised streaks maring his skin.

Phantom froze eyes jumping over to the adults just a few feet over who had stopped their conversation to try to see what the young girl was asking about. He quickly pulled the collar of his suit back into place. He gave the girl and the other kids surrounding him a pained smile. “Yeah I did get an owie. Don’t worry though I’m fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Suddenly blue frost escaped his lips, the adults sitting nearby never saw him more relieved to have a ghost show up than in that moment. He gave quick goodbyes to the kids before shooting off to find the day's threat to the city.

All the adults gathered waved over their respective kids. While they trusted Phantom to get rid of the threat it was always smart to stay inside during a ghost attack. A loud boom sounded in the direction where Phantom flew off, shaking the ground. They all gave each other uncertain looks. “My house is closest we can take shelter there.” One of the men said leading everyone away.

After a block of running the group was almost to shelter when the ghost fight moved over their heads. The adults grabbed onto the children doing their best to shield them from the flying debris. They held the kids against their chests as they watched the sky in horror. They didn’t recognize the attacking ghost, but it was certainly doing a number on Phantom. The rest of the battle lasted at most a minute when Phantom managed to suck up the ghost into his thermos before he seemed to wobble in the sky and falling to the ground creating a small crater where he landed.

The man who was leading the group passed off the kid he was holding to the man next to him. “David what are you-?”

“Brian just hold her.” He ran over to the fallen teen and picked him up in a fireman's carry and rushed the rest of the way to his house.

Once he arrived he kicked open the door and placed the teen onto the couch in his living room. He looked down trying to assess the situation. Phantom’s jumpsuit was torn in numerous places exposing spots of his arms, neck, and chest that had splatterings of green ectoplasm across the exposed flesh. He started taking the rest of the jumpsuit off of the teen wanting to make sure there were no hidden injuries underneath. Behind him he could hear his husband and the other parents come through the door. “Get me a wet rag and some warm water!” He yelled behind him.

Once he was handed the items he started working on cleaning up the cuts and wiping off the ectoplasm. He silently thanked any higher being out there that he took a first aid class a few years back. The wounds actually seemed less severe than what David initially thought, that or the kid had some seriously advanced healing. One of the parents led the kids upstairs while the rest of them crowded around David and Phantom.

Once Phantom was as patched up as he could be David finally sat back and actually took a full look at the boy. His breath caught in his throat as he examined the body infront of him. In the end all he could get out was.“Oh my god. He’s- he’s dead.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course he’s not, I can clearly see him breathing right now.” One of the parents protested.

David shook his head. “No.” He went to run his hands down his face before spotting the blood- no the ectoplasm covering them and settled for grabbing onto his husband for support. “No, I mean he’s a ghost.”

“Well yeah he’s a ghost it’s not like that’s news now is it?” Brian said running his hand up and down his husband's back.

“You guys don’t get it.” David pulled back. “Think! Look!” He ran his hand through his hair, staining it green. “Look at him.” He pointed at the teen’s unconscious body. There were lightning shaped scars running all over the boy’s body, from the base of his neck trailing all the way down to his ankles. Those weren’t the only scars marring his body though, small scars were scattered all over his body, there was a rather large one on his abdomen in the same spot where he was hit the other week fighting off a ghost who was attacking the high school. The gathered adults looked back at Phantom’s face. As he slept he almost looked like a normal teenager, there were small bags under his eyes, his closed eyes hid the toxic green color, and the glow surrounding him was almost nonexistent.

Three things seemed to dawn on the parents all at once.

1: Phantom at some point had died

2: He died young, at most he was just out of middle school when it happened.

3: From the looks of it he didn’t die in his sleep but painfully. They all silently hoped that at least it wasn’t drawn out.

As they all looked at each other they couldn’t help but think of their own children who were just upstairs. Did Phantom have a family? Did his parents miss their little boy? Do they know that Phantom was their son? Even worse, the boy had a jumpsuit on when he died, was his parents the cause of his premature death?

Of course if Phantom was conscious, didn’t have to worry about the whole identity thing, and could read their minds the boy would quickly put their minds to rest responding; yes, no he sees them daily, god no, and sorta it really was more of a case of teenage stupidity than his parents fault though.

Two of those issues though were quickly resolved as two white rings shocked the group out of their grief for a boy they hardly knew. The rings traveled across the boy’s body replacing bare skin with street clothes and white hair with black. Everyone looked at Phantom(?) confused, the boy in front of them was very unghost-like and the scratch on his face that was previously bleeding green now had a red where the scab was forming.

“What the fu- wait isn’t that the Fenton kid, Danny I think?” David asked looking back at the other parents who were in the same amount of shock that he was. Actually he was positive it was him, his older sister Jazz used to babysit their daughter and he would sometimes come along. If someone was going to respond they were cut off as the boy in front of them started to stir and open his eyes. He sat up almost falling off the couch in his panic, thankfully David was quick enough to catch him. “Woah there Danny, be careful you took a pretty bad beating out there. Hell I’m surprised you’re already awake to be honest kid.”

Danny gave him a thankful smile as he steadied himself. He froze once he caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes shot down to his clothes. He looked back up and noticed the group of adults in front of him. “Now before you jump to any conclusions there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, or there will be just give me a few minutes.” “Wait so does this mean you’re not dead?” Brian asked.

“Brian you can’t just ask that! What if it’s a sensitive subject?” David scolded his husband then looked over at Danny. “Sorry about him.”

Danny looked over to the men who for some reason had hope in their eyes. “What? It’s fine. I mean I guess no- well yes- no- sorta- it’s complicated.”

As Danny looked at the numerous questioning eyes he sighed. It’s not like he could convince them that it was a trick of the light or something. And he did owe them since they patched him up better than he would have been able to at home in his bedroom. But before he could start he turned to David. “I’ll tell you guys everything but first um… is that my ectoplasm in your hair and on your hands? Because if so you probably should wash that off, prolonged exposure isn’t harmful per say but you could start to glow or something if you don’t wash it off soon.”

David looked down to his hands, apparently just now remembering he was still covered in the boy’s ectoplasm and rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d worry about why the sight of his own blood- ectoplasm didn’t phase Danny at all later.

Once David returned, now free of ectoplasm, Danny sat down and started from the beginning. At one point in the story he must have started to cry because he was handed a tissue box, which he accepted with a thanks. By the end he wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes, one of the adults had to go into the kitchen to compose themselves. Danny didn’t really understand why though, sure he sort of half died, but he didn’t see why it would affect any of them. “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine it’s not a big deal! I mean it’s not like it only happened to me. Vlad went through it too like 20 years ago.” Danny seized up after he said that. “Don’t tell him you know about him though! Me not telling anyone about him is the only reason he’s not trying to fully kill me when we fight. That and he has a weird obsession with my mom and me.”

David paused at that. “So you’re telling us that not only did you go through a highly traumatic situation at a young age, but the only adult that even knows about it has tried to kill you multiple times?”

“I mean I guess but Jazz, my sister, knows about it too and she’s older than me and my friends.”

“Danny she’s also still a kid, an older one sure, but she is not an adult. Even if you didn’t go to your parents, was there no one else you could have talked to about it with? A therapist maybe?” David asked.

Danny laughed. “Ah no, Jazz tried having me go to the school therapist but she turned out to be a ghost who wanted to try to cause as much pain as possible. She even almost killed Jazz in front of the whole school.”

“Dear god.” David sighed. “All right, we will all keep your secret on one condition.”  Danny cringed and looked down at his lap, of course there was a catch. He just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad like letting them run a bunch of experiments on him whenever they wanted to. His ghost injuries were bad enough to hide from others, he didn’t need to have to explain away needle marks or something. “You’ll see Brian once a week for therapy sessions. He’s a licensed psychiatrist.”

“Wait what?” Danny looked up confused.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t charge you of course since we are forcing you to do this, and obviously you can choose the day of the week. I usually don't work fridays or the weekends but if those are the only days that work I’m sure we can rearrange some of our family time to make room for you.” Brian smiled. “Now it’s getting pretty late isn’t it? I’m sure it’s about time everyone here starts to head home now hmm? Of course if you aren’t feeling well enough Danny I can call your parent’s up and just let them know you’ll be staying here. I’ll just tell them you were injured in a ghost fight, not exactly lying now is it?”

“Um no I’m fine enough to walk home thank you though.” Danny said. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and calling the children down to get them ready to leave. Danny was the last one left, he was almost out the door when he was stopped by David handing him a piece of paper.

“Here are our numbers, I also wrote down where Brian’s office is, you can set up your appointment over text. As well as our address, you can stop by or call us for any reason Danny and I mean it okay, any.”

Danny looked down at the paper and pocketed it with a nod. As he left he felt almost lighter for some reason. Maybe having adults who knew and didn’t want to kill him but actually wanted to help him wasn’t so bad after all.

[everwitch-magiks]

RWRB Fics Roundup

Hey y’all! Once upon a time I had the ambition to post links on here to all the fics and new chapters that I publish on AO3, and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been an absolute disaster at that over the summer. In my defense I’ve just had so much to write, but that’s not much of a defense seeing as it doesn’t take ages to chuck a link on here. Anyhow. Bottom line is, I’ve severely neglected it, and it’s gotten to a point where I’m just gonna make a post with links to everything I’ve written since June (ish) for you to peruse, so you can see if there’s one that you didn’t catch wind of that catches your eye now. Neat, huh?

So, without further ado, the links! The fics! Let’s go.

Completed works

Love At First Bark General Audiences, AU, tooth-rotting fluff. 3K. “I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

Shameless Explicit, AU, Henry has a reputation. 14K. Henry has a lot of sex. A lot. He's young and in college and there is no shortage of men to fall in bed with. What better time to explore what he likes and what he fucking loves, as well as to catalogue how to make his many, many partners feel as good as possible? It’s all part of the learning experience. And Henry is a very dedicated student.

Alex has been inescapably aware of Henry ever since that one time they kissed. You don’t just stop being aware of the guy who basically caused your sexuality. So when Henry propositions Alex at a lame frat party, Alex accepts eagerly. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. Maybe, if he can just have Henry once, he’ll have a better chance of finally getting over his embarrassing fixation with Henry. It's worth a try.

When The Time Is Right Part four of my sex club series. Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 16K. “Maybe I could challenge you more,” Henry suggests, his eyes carefully trained on Alex. “And hold you accountable for longer. How does that sound?” “That sounds fucking amazing,” Alex tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “Yes. That. Please.” “Alright, then.” Henry offers him a sly grin. “Alex, love. You just gave me a wonderful idea.” It’s really something, how quickly Alex’s heartbeat picks up. “Oh? Do tell.” Henry’s grin widens. He looks alarmingly pleased with himself. “How would you feel about a staycation?”

When Alex asks Henry for something a little more intense in the bedroom, they end up taking more than just their sex life to the next level.

Out For A Bite Explicit, AU, suspense and supernatural elements. 3K. Henry's eyes fly up, zeroing in on the reflection in the mirror. There, behind him. The man from the bar. He looks different in the fluorescent bathroom lights. Sharper. There’s a look in his eyes that has Henry shivering all over again. It's greedy. Hungry.

He’s staring right at Henry.

Henry's throat feels dry. His heart beats madly. He's heard whispers of this place, and more importantly of its patrons. He thinks he knows what this man is.

ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with) Explicit, AU, Alex and Henry in DIY Punk & mainstream pop punk, respectively. 34K. Teenage music sensation Kensington have taken the world by storm. With their cool leather jackets and wickedly distorted guitars, they're a pop duo that packs a punch. Or at least they sound like one—their lyrics unfortunately lack any semblance of depth. Alex can't fucking stand Kensington. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to. He’s not likely to cross paths with those British pop losers during his final semester of high school in Texas. And even if he did, he'd never let some stupidly attractive blonde take his focus away from the goal that Alex has worked towards for years: winning the Austin Band Slam with his latino punk trio.

But when Henry comes crashing into Alex's life, with his intriguing piano pieces and piercing blue eyes and slow, purposeful kisses that make Alex burn with want, Alex finds that he might need to reevaluate his stance on both pop losers and distractions. Or maybe not. Maybe he’s better off keeping Henry at arm's length, since it's so painfully evident that Henry will never love him back.

Never Tell Me The Odds Teen and Up Audiences, canon verse, an outside perspective on First Prince as well as a story about a certain Star Wars mural. 2K. "Wait!" Alex yells up to the driver. "Stop! Stop the car!" Up close, it's beautiful. Two stories tall. He can’t imagine how somebody was able to put together something like this so fast.

Ash had never imagined that they'd get the chance to actually meet Alex Claremont-Diaz, and much less get the chance to tell Alex about how that very special Star Wars mural came to be. Although of course, Ash never would have met Alex if it hadn’t been for Farida. Farida and her bold courage, and her warm compassion, and her sometimes infuriating (but always endearing) stubbornness.

yrs. faithfully (with nowhere to go) Explicit, canon verse, a lazy morning in bed leads to something more. 3K. When Alex and Henry wake up together the day before their anniversary, they're genuinely planning on getting out of bed and spending the day as productive members or society. Truly, their intentions are honorable. But a trip down memory lane gets them reminiscing about that night exactly one year ago, when Alex had come running through the rain to deliver some choice words about obtuse fucking assholes.

As Alex and Henry start to relive the memory, they quickly realize that they both remember it intimately. So intimately that they might be able to pull off something of a do-over.

Gadgets and Gizmos A-Plenty A companion piece to dearest Hattie’s soulmate fic. Mature, AU, a look into Henry buying sex toys. Yes. That’s the fic. 2K. There’s a bunch of regulars that Amir knows by name (and, unavoidably, by kinks), but most often Playtime gets one-time visitors. Which makes sense, really. A lot of people don’t seem to want to step into the same adult toy shop twice. So Amir is always a little extra curious when there’s a repeat customer, especially one who is this attractive. And, interestingly, one who’s come back so soon.

The tall, classically handsome man with blond hair and blue eyes left Playtime no less than five hours ago after having purchased a medium-sized, fairly standard vibrator well suited for anal play. And now he’s back. Because apparently, he’s found he needed another vibrator.

If Sex Was A Sport We’d Be Winning Mature, AU, a classic Olympics hookup. 3K. It's remarkable, truly, that Alex didn't even want to be here. He only came all the way to Ariake because June was determined to watch a bunch of prissy ponies strut around to music. Still, perhaps the true Olympic experience lies in the wide variety of disciplines. Or, perhaps, it has something to do with chatting up a pretty blond behind the stables and getting him to show you the inside of an Olympic tack room. As Alex quickly takes to Henry’s sweet smiles and easy confidence, he realizes that just a few stolen moments with this man might turn into his most cherished memory from the Tokyo Olympics.

Alex knows better than to get attached, though. He and Henry live an ocean apart. There’s no way this quick fumble in the stable equivalent of a supply closet could ever lead to anything more. Right?

Talk Dirty To Me Explicit, AU, dom Henry and sub Alex. 9K. Henry studies Nora’s expression for a moment. There’s something about her favourable account of this guy she claims not to want to sleep with again that doesn’t add up. "But you're still not interested in taking him on?"

"He wants more than I'm willing to offer," Nora says frankly. Henry’s always liked this about her—how she doesn’t skirt around the hard facts. It's a part of what makes her so good at dominating. "But you know what? For you, he'd be kind of perfect."

Henry has been active in the local BDSM scene for years and there’s no shortage of men who’d love nothing more than to find themselves at his mercy. But Henry is on a break. He’s not looking for a new partner, but he’s also not expecting to become so intrigued by the man that Nora insists he should meet. Alex is a newcomer on the scene who doesn’t yet know exactly what he wants, much less with who. There’s no way that he could turn out to be exactly who Henry needs. Right?

Date night (please toy with me) Explicit, canon verse, a night out leads to some fun with a toy. 4K. This… this is new. They’ve talked about trying this, about what it’d be like to conceal some of their intimacy in plain sight, about what it would feel like to try and reclaim what is most private to them by flaunting it without anyone even knowing, by daring to take risks again. They’ve agreed that they’d still need to be careful, but they’ve also agreed that it would be interesting. That it would be fun.

And apparently, Henry thinks tonight is the night for it. “Do you trust me, love?”

“Yeah.” Alex swallows. He picks up the box, studying it for a moment. “Do you want… what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to the bathroom,” Henry says evenly, “You’ll find everything you need in the box. Then I want you to come back and sit down. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Alex taps the box, grinning in Henry’s direction. “I expect we’ll be leaving soon?”

Henry smiles slyly. “If you’re good, yes.”

Ongoing works

Hashtag Soulmates Mature, AU, Henry writes fanfiction. 23K and 7 chapters so far. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

That... is all! It’s been a productive summer. I’m very excited to continue writing Hashtag Soulmates, and also to start working on a few upcoming First Prince fics that I’m planning on writing. Stay tuned for fics! ♡

[mypoisonedvine]

Hungry Like The Wolf | soft!dark!Ari Levinson x reader

summary: when you need ari’s help for a secret mission with the CIA, he expects gratitude from you— and he wants a lot more than just a thank you card.

word count: nearly 6.5k

warnings: smut (dub con/coercion/sex as bartering tool), oral sex (f receiving) and vaginal sex, overstimulation, possessiveness/very very slight yandere vibes?, some violence and gun use, mentions of human trafficking/warfare, religious discussions and traditions but not particularly orthodox ones, vague discussions of sexism and misogyny with implied religious background, overall just lots of global politics and all that fun stuff

(a/n: I went ahead and wrote the hebrew and arabic in english lettering because tumblr doesn’t support right to left text so just a heads up.  my arabic is very weak so I apologize if there are any errors.)

Taking a deep breath, you ran through your pitch in your head again.  Sure, you’d had plenty of time to go over it on the plane, but one last recitation couldn’t hurt, right?  Unable to stall any longer, you turned the knob and entered Ari Levinson’s office.

You’d heard he was good-looking but his appearance still surprised you; his long hair and thick beard made him look like he’d fit in with a rock band better than an intelligence agency, and his half-buttoned shirt put his Star of David necklace and muscled, hairy chest on display.

He must have caught your gaze trailing down because he smirked at you, making your cheeks feel a bit warm.

“Mr. Levinson,” you greeted as you looked up to his face again.

He greeted you as ‘Ms.’ instead of ‘Agent,’ but you let it slide since you were about to ask him for quite the favor.  When he motioned for you to take a seat across from him, you did so with a nod and a quick smoothing of your skirt.

“So, what can I help you with?” he prompted. 

This was the easy part; this was the part you’d rehearsed a thousand times.  “There is a group of trafficked women and girls who have been rescued from all over— Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Kuwait— and gathered in Riyadh.  We are working on a plan to move them to Cyprus and, eventually, Greece where they will be accepted into a camp there.  Maybe they’ll end up in the States at some point, if we can swing it, but… Cyprus is step one.”

Ari nodded, listening to your story with more patience than anyone else had so far.

“As you can imagine, it would be a lot easier to move through Jordan and Israel and use your ports, rather than go around through Egypt or Syria…”  He stared at you expectantly as you trailed off, and you cleared your throat before finishing:  "The CIA would greatly appreciate Mossad's cooperation in the movement of these refugees."

"How much would they appreciate it?"

You paused, unsure what he meant.  "Um, quite a lot, I'm sure…"

"I just mean that we have missions the CIA could be a useful assist for, too,” he clarified, interlacing his fingers and resting his hands on his lap.  “You guys have a lot more resources than we do.  If we help you out, is this going to be an allyship we can rely on?"

You swallowed dryly, pondering if there was a way to get out of this before you sighed and slumped down in your chair, leaning a little closer to him.  "Alright, I have to be honest with you: it's not really the CIA that's asking for your help."

"Then who is?"

"Me.  Just me.  I'm the only one who believes in this mission; I'm the only one fighting for these people.  The CIA won't help you because they won't even help me and I work for them."

He slumped his shoulders a little bit.  "Then I'm not sure if I can afford to say yes to you."

"Please," you implored, "I know I can't offer you as much as they can, but I'll do whatever I can to make this work.  Please," you repeated as you laid your hand over his, noticing the way his expression shifted a bit, "help me."

"I've been the one person fighting for a mission before," he remembered, voice a little softer.  "I know how hard it is to go it alone."

You smiled gently at him.

"And, I know how far I would've gone to get my people to safety." 

His hand flipped around suddenly and grabbed yours tightly, pulling you closer as you gasped.

"How far will you go?"

You shivered, the darkness in his eyes burning right through you even when you tried to look away.  "Mr. Levinson, I—"

"Call me Ari," he instructed gruffly, grip tightening around your wrist until you yelped softly.

"Ari," you corrected, "I have money—"

"Don't want it."

"I can offer you my assistance in—"

"Don't need it."

"Tell me what you need,” you requested softly.

"I need to know you're gonna show me this 'great appreciation' you promised,” he answered quickly.  “I need to know that if I take care of you, then you'll take care of me."

You gulped but nodded.  "O-of course…"

"Good."

He released you from his grip and stood up, smiling at you like nothing had even happened.

"Pleasure doing business with you, madam."

You stood up and left his office in a haze, unsure if what had just happened was a dream or reality.  But, sure enough, he showed up the next day where you’d told him to meet you, and brought some money and fake passports that you desperately needed.  Frankly, just having a man around was going to make things smoother for you, even if it was a white man who didn’t exactly blend in by any stretch of the imagination.  Seeing him again the next day only reminded you how big he was, tall but moreso heavy with muscle; he looked pretty cramped in his tiny coach seat on the plane to Dubai (your connecting stop where you’d spend the night before flying out to Riyadh).

“Bloody mary, please,” he requested from the stewardess with a gentle nod, turning to you.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” you ordered quickly with a tilted smile.  You had brought a book to read, but Ari insisted on barraging you with personal questions about your job, your personal life, your favorite things— he seemed fascinated by the most mundane things, and disinterested in giving his own backstory.  

Of course you considered that it wasn’t a great idea to tell him so much about yourself, let him in your head and under your skin.  But then again, you’d put your trust in him enough for the mission, so you ought to trust him completely, right?  

So why did his stare send shivers up your spine?

//  

There was room for you and Ari at a CIA safehouse outside Dubai; it wasn’t exactly luxurious or anything, but at least you weren’t going to have to share a room… or a bed.

Normally staying in a safehouse meant sharing common areas with a random assortment of other agents, but it being a Friday night in Dubai meant they were all out enjoying the local nightlife while you two stayed in.  Hoping to review a game plan for the mission with him, you found Ari’s door open, peeking around to see him on his knees on the floor, a candle burning before him, and his hands raised to cover his eyes and face.

“Shema Yisrael,” he sung to himself below his breath, “Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Ehad…”

He jumped a little when he uncovered and opened his eyes only to find you standing there.  “Shabbat Shalom,” you greeted.

“Shabbat Shalom,” he nodded back.  

“I’m sorry you’re forced to take your Shabbat alone,” you apologized, “and that there’s nobody other than me to appreciate your vocal chops.”

His cheeks tinged pink at that.  “It’s all part of the sacrifices we make for our missions, eh?”

“Then I suppose you don’t mind that you’ll be doing plenty of work tomorrow,” you presumed.

“You probably realized by now that I’m not actually so traditional,” he chuckled, extinguishing the candle and standing up.  “I work on the sabbath quite a lot.”

“I hear work is permitted if it is needed to save a life.”

He smiled, but he looked a little sad; maybe not sad, but tired.  “With me, it always is.”

The silence was thick as you tried to reconcile that this was the same man that had grabbed and threatened you— was it a threat?  You couldn’t even tell anymore.  Apparently he wasn’t going to take whatever it was that he wanted until you’d finished the mission, and that should’ve made it easier to procrastinate your worry, but the extra time to ponder what it was actually going to be only brought further anxiety.

Of course, you had an idea of what he was going to ask of you, but the fact that nothing too untoward had happened in his office when you first met him was throwing you off.  In that moment, you were just waiting for him to tell you to get on your knees and show him how bad you wanted these women rescued, but he didn’t.  Wouldn’t have been the first time somebody tried to bribe you into sex; it would’ve been the first time, however, that you actually considered doing it.

Now, the anticipation just made it worse; you were working with him every day and he always acted normal, as if there wasn’t this looming threat of whatever favor he was going to ask from you in return.

Once you actually got to work the next day, it was easier not to think about that.  You barely had any extra brainpower to think about anything except survival and extraction.  Still, each time you looked at him only to find him already looking at you, your hands shook a little.

//

“You’ve been driving for 10 hours, you’re sure you don’t want me to take the wheel?” you offered, watching him blink a few times to clear his vision.

“Not worth getting arrested,” he frowned.

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“Not worth the risk of getting caught.  And I don’t know about you, but if I get arrested here, I’ll probably be killed, too.”

You chewed your lip as you appreciated that it was probably worth avoiding as much trouble as possible.  It’s not like the CIA was popular in these parts, either, and for good reason.

“What’s that up ahead?” he asked, leaning further forward against the steering wheel and squinting.

“Um,” you stalled as you unfolded the paper map in your lap, “I’m… not sure.”

“Looks like a barricade,” he announced, and it did; a gate with two guards and barbed wire on either side.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you reminded him as you frantically shuffled around the map, making sure you were where you thought you were and that there wasn’t a mark indicating a vehicle stop on the road.

“What do we do?” he asked, looking around as if he was considering veering off the path even though that would be equally dangerous.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you repeated, more anxiously.

“Well, there is,” he replied, his own agitation clearly increasing, “so we’ll have to go through it.”

“They’re going to pull us over.”

“Probably,” he admitted.

“And they will search the back of the truck.”

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t.  How well do you think they’re gonna take it when they see eighty-something women packed like sardines?”

You chuckled a little even though you were anything but amused.  “Um, not good.”

As the men at the stop waved to signal your car to slow down, Ari sighed a little.  "I'll ask once again: what do we do?"

"Act natural," you suggested quickly as you lifted the scarf draped around your head to cover your nose and mouth.

Ari slowed down to a stop, lowering the window to talk to the officer outside and putting on a fake English accent.  “How can I help you, sir?”

“Identification please,” he requested sternly.  Ari smiled as he grabbed his and your passports, handing them over through the window.  It was a long, awkward moment as he flipped through the thick papers slowly, his partner leaning down to look through your window but never taking his hands off his gun.  “What brings you out here?” the man finally asked.

“My wife and I operate a restaurant in Jordan, and we get most of our equipment here because the workmanship is better,” Ari explained.  “Just passing through with our new stoves and oven hood.”

The officer glanced back over your truck, his expression mostly unreadable but overall not necessarily friendly-looking.  “Could you step out of the vehicle please?”

“Hal hdha daruri?” you asked quickly; Is this necessary?

“Alsamt,” he replied in a hiss; Silence.

Ari looked around like he was thinking but nodded and reached for the handle to his door.  You did the same, the second guard stepping out of your way so you could swing open the rusted metal and step out.

The men guided for you to circle the car with them, stopping at the back and staring at the metal sliding door that was latched shut.

Turning to address Ari, the guard’s face dropped completely as he got a bit more serious.  “What am I going to find in your vehicle?”

“Kitchen supplies, like I said,” Ari insisted.

As the officer reached for the latch on the back of the truck, Ari shot you a wide-eyed look and you gave him a quick nod.  He lunged at the second guard, wrestling him for his gun while you went after the first, who was much easier to take down with him being distracted by trying to unlock the back of the truck.  Your CIA instincts told you to shoot him once you’d grabbed his weapon, but thankfully you knocked him out with the butt of it instead.

Loud pops of gunfire beside you made you fear the worst, but Ari had managed to push the gun toward the sky before pulling it out of the officer’s grasp, swinging it wildly until it made contact with his head and he fell to the ground.

Gun in hand and panting heavily, Ari looked back at you with a grin.  “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You almost got shot,” you reminded him.

“A little more than almost,” he corrected, showing you a gash where a bullet had grazed arm.

“Shit, Ari!” you yelped, running over to him and inspecting the wound.  The way he looked down at you as you clutched him made you sort of regret it, though.

“It’s fine,” he assured you, but he made no effort to push you away.

“I… should check on the girls,” you decided, a little bit distracted but making your way back to the truck to roll up the metal back and examine the women inside, who looked scared at first but relaxed when they saw you.

“Kli shay' ealaa ma yaram,” you assured them that everything was fine, “nahn taqribaan 'iilaa al'urduni, wasawf nasil 'iilaa alsafinat allaylat.”  We're almost to Jordan and will arrive at the ship tonight.

They relaxed a bit and smiled at you, a few muttered ‘shukraan jazilaan’s (meaning ‘thank you’) echoing from inside.  You hated to shut the back and plunge them into darkness again, but they had assured you before that they would brave any conditions for a chance at freedom.  You hoped they meant it.

“Please, let me drive, you’re injured,” you offered to Ari as he started to make his way toward the driver’s side door.

“It’s not even that bad, and we’ve had enough run-ins with the law today,” he dismissed.

“Then let me patch you up first, okay?  Is that so terrible?”

He smiled a little.  “No, I guess not.”

And that was how you ended up leaning on him in the passenger seat, supergluing his arm shut, trying not to think about how his bicep was probably bigger than your head.

“You’re a pretty good medic,” he observed, speaking quietly since you were so close.

“When you’re as clumsy as I am, you have to be,” you responded, sounding monotone due to focusing mostly on your work.  “It shouldn’t scar too—”

You stopped when you looked up at him, because the way he was staring back down at you made you completely devoid of the ability to speak or even conjure words in your mind.  You’d never seen him so close before and those piercing blue eyes made your head spin.

“What were you gonna say?” he asked softly, 

“It… shouldn’t scar too bad,” you finished, “as long as you keep it clean and dry.”

“I generally aim to keep my entire body clean and dry,” Ari chuckled.

“Right, yeah, well— keep up the good work, then,” you stammered as you wrapped some gauze around his arm and rolled his sleeve back down over it.

“Let’s hit the road before we waste any more time,” he suggested, and with a nod you leaned back into your seat.

//

The radio blasting was the only thing keeping both of you awake as you drove through the dark.  The border to Jordan was easy enough, and both of you sighed with relief as you crossed into Israel.  It was by far the biggest blockade you’d seen so far, but of course, Ari got you in faster than you’d moved through anything else.

“Good to be home?” you asked when you saw Ari smiling as he looked around at the streetlights through the windshield.

“You could say that,” he answered.  “Think we have time to stop for falafel before we get to the port?”

“Not unless you plan on buying for all your passengers,” you laughed, motioning toward the back.  “If they have to wait until we reach the ship, so do we.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he relented.  “Besides, probably better to be seen by as few people as possible.  Even if we’re in friendly territory, it’s still a covert operation and all.”

“Wow, so you do have some desire to play by the rules,” you gasped in faux shock.  He smiled and shrugged a bit.

“More like the rules and my desires occasionally overlap.”

It was past midnight when you pulled into the port, surrounded by ships so big that you couldn’t see the tops of them from inside the car.  A cargo ship was waiting for you, along with some Navy men who helped you escort the women onto the vessel.

Since it wasn’t meant to accommodate this many people, the refugees occupied extra crew space while you and Ari were given sleeping bags in an unused office; you were so tired, though, that it actually looked enticing.

As soon as you’d set your pack down and shut the door, you heard a distant horn and felt the ship begin to move.  You let out a long sigh as you leaned against the desk, watching Ari take a seat in the chair and start laughing exhaustedly.

“We did it,” you smiled, “we fucking did it.”

“We’ve still got a long boat ride ahead of us,” Ari mitigated, “but yeah… we should be in the clear, and tomorrow afternoon we’ll be in sunny Cyprus.”

You were so elated from the high of a successful mission that you forgot to worry about Ari’s vague request all those weeks ago; it was probably the first time you hadn’t thought about it since then, truthfully.  That changed when his smile fell as he looked up at you, eyes darkening a little and scanning your body.

“You’re a great agent,” he nodded slowly, “and an incredible woman.  You saved a lot of people tonight.”

You shifted nervously under the weight of his stare, but tried to hide your discomfort.  “I… couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I know,” he informed you coldly, standing up and approaching you.  “I think I’ve gone above and beyond on my end of our deal.”

A pit formed in your stomach, growing with each step he took towards you.  His eyes stayed trained on you except for when he glanced to the side to flip on the radio, American music suddenly piping through the speakers.

— discord and rhyme, I’m on the hunt, I’m after you…

You looked to the radio as well but his hand gently guided your jaw until you looked back at him; he was closer than ever, and you had to look up to meet his gaze, shivering as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip slowly.

“Are you good for your end of the deal?” he asked lowly.

And I’m hungry like the wolf…

You swallowed, hoping it would somehow ease the ache in your gut as you realized what was about to happen, before nodding meekly.

He smirked a little.  “Good girl,” he praised, only a bit louder than a whisper, as his hand moved to cradle your face.  “You want me, don’t you?”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out how you were supposed to answer that.  “I want to repay you, for all you’ve done for me.”

“No, not just that,” he disagreed, “you want me.  I know you do.  You don’t need to hide it, we’re alone…”

Hesitant but catching on to his desires, you nodded a little.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Ari,” you whispered.  

It felt like forever waiting for him to kiss you as he leaned in slowly, eyes half-lidded and dark but never leaving you.  As his lips brushed against yours, you finally let your eyes flutter shut and reciprocated his kiss.  His hands felt especially big as one slipped behind your neck and the other rested on your waist; in fact, with the way you had to crane your head up to kiss him back, all of him felt big.  Including the part you were pretty sure just bumped against the inside of your thigh.

His kiss was soft and patient but determined, slow but somehow still moving faster than you were ready for.  You gingerly reached up and rested your hands on his shoulders; they were strong and warm beneath your touch, even through his shirt.  You couldn’t think of the last time you’d been kissed like this, or held so tenderly like this, but then again, you were also sure that nobody had scared you like this in a long time, either.  For a woman who always knew what to do in a dangerous situation, you couldn’t seem to get a read on Ari Levinson— mostly because you didn’t truly believe he was dangerous.  But maybe you should.

When his hands reached up to start unbuttoning your blouse, you pushed him back a little.

"N-not here," you protested, "someone could hear, or walk in."

"There's nowhere else to go, and I'm not waiting 'til Cyprus.  I need you now."

He kissed you again before you could respond, more forceful and desperate.  You let him work open your shirt this time, his fingers dancing over your skin as he pulled it off your shoulders and tossed it aside.  The feeling of him working your bra open made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but his tongue slipping into your mouth distracted you and before you knew it, it was gone as well.  Your nipples hardened in the cold air— or maybe they’d been that way already, for whatever reason— but they reacted even stronger to his thick fingers gently pinching them as his palms cupped your breasts.

You gasped against his mouth a bit, your breathing getting heavier as he moved his hands down to your trousers.  The idea of being naked when he was still fully-dressed scared you, but you didn’t have time to think about that anymore when he pulled back to drop to his knees, taking your pants and underwear to the floor with him.

He looked back up at you with a mischievous grin as you cautiously stepped out of them.  After guiding you to sit up on the table, neither of you stopping to consider how rude it was to put your bare ass on somebody’s desk in a borrowed ship, he slowly parted your legs.  As he kissed a trail inside your thigh, you felt your hands clutch the edge of the table tightly with anticipation.  You felt so exposed with his face right there, to the point that your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and yet you couldn't manage to tear your eyes away from his as he leaned in to lick you teasingly with the tip of his tongue.

"Fuck," you shivered, feeling your inner walls quiver as he moved so delicately.  You kept waiting for him to really get into it but he was determined to stay gentle and slow, circling your bud for one glorious moment before stopping again.  "Ari, please," you whispered without even realizing you’d said it.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked darkly, his voice deep and gravelly as he ran his hands up the back of your legs.

Your begging whimper was so pathetic you could hardly believe you were hearing yourself.  "More, please…"

He dove right in after that, suddenly latching onto your clit and letting his tongue explore every fold, every wrinkle, every sensitive spot with thick, wide licks.  Your head fell back and your hands jumped to weave into his hair— that gorgeous fucking hair that had driven you halfway insane.  It was soft between your fingers, and in this light you could see the touches of red, blonde, and maybe even grey scattered into the brunette.  Better yet was the way he moaned against you when you accidentally pulled it, your hands clenching into fists against his scalp each time he sucked on your clit just right.

"Ari, baby, fuck," you groaned, feeling your hips shift a little as if to try to get more of yourself in his mouth.

Sensation was sparking under your skin faster than you knew what to do with it, faster than you had ever figured out on your own, and definitely faster than anybody else had ever managed.  You felt your body shaking and couldn’t suppress it at all, every part of you (inside and out) quivering uncontrollably.  It would’ve been embarrassing except that he seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit, egging you on with his tight grip on your thighs, and his deep moans that reverberated over your body, and the way his brow furrowed like it almost pained him to see you like this.  Your back arched so dramatically that he had to hold onto your hips tight to keep you in his mouth, but he managed to maintain what he'd been doing— in fact, he didn't stop even when you started to whine and cry, feet digging into his back as you tried not to explode from the overstimulation on your sensitive clit.  

"S-stop, s'too much, can't take it," you pleaded, looking down at him.

He looked back up at you with dark, dilated eyes that said 'you're gonna take it.'  His tongue lapped at you with renewed vigor, sending you tumbling over the edge again and again and again.

Tears were streaming down your face when he finally relented, standing up slowly and staring you down as he wiped his face with the back of his hand; your arousal had coated his mouth and most of his beard, too.  You bit down on your lip to stop it from shaking as he slotted himself between your legs again, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and smiling as he watched your gaze trail down every inch of newly-exposed skin.

You knew he was in good shape, because it was always obvious, but you still shivered a little when you were greeted with chiseled muscles, dusty-blonde hair, a few stray freckles and scars, and last but not least, the gauze wrapping on his arm where you’d patched him up before.  It was nice to see a piece of your handiwork on something so flawless, like how it must feel to design the frame that holds a Monet.  Your mouth was even watering as you followed the trail of hair down to where it was interrupted by his jeans, which were misshapen with the unmistakable outline of his neglected cock.  Either you could actually hear it throbbing, or that was just your heartbeat in your ears as he made a show of undoing his buckle and fly slowly.  

A breath caught in your throat as he slid the jeans down and kicked them off with his boots, his cock bouncing up against the bottom of his abs once he’d freed it.  You hoped to hide your intimidation, but you must have failed from the way he smirked and licked his lips as he stepped forward and pressed it against your stomach; you felt a little dizzy seeing the head of it reach past your bellybutton.  "That's how deep I'm gonna be in you, baby."

For all his delicacy and tenderness in everything before now, he must have had a change of heart; with a little growl, he pushed all the way into you with one brutal thrust, watching darkly as your head fell back in a choked scream.  He didn’t stop for very long, either, setting up a pace that was slow but unyielding, his length filling every part of you and then some with each slam of his hips into yours.

He grabbed your hair tightly and suddenly, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him.  He licked and sucked along your pulse until you were shaking against him, nails accidentally digging into his shoulders a little bit as you held onto him.

His lips trailed up to pull you into a frenzied, sloppy kiss, your mouth slack wide for him to explore however he wanted.

"Tell me how it feels," he growled against your lips.

It feels like my body is on fire but I like it.  It feels like you're shaping my insides to fit you exactly how you want.  It feels like you might split me in half before you're done with me, but if you stop now I'll fall apart even worse.

His grip on your hair tightened at your lack of response.  "Gettin' fucked too good to answer me, huh?  So full of my cock you can't even speak.  Is that right, pretty baby?"

You nodded as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, your hoarse moans and sobs muffled by his skin.  

"Aw, poor thing," he purred, wrapping his arms around your back.  His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke to you in a deep mumble, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine with each word.  "You don't have to tell me, I know how it feels… you're so wet that you're fucking dripping, your needy little pussy is clamping down on me like it's the end of the fucking world, and you're screaming for me so loud I bet half the ship can hear you.  I know how it feels, baby; it feels so good that you're already about to come for me."

You gasped as he pushed you to lay back on the table, hoisting your legs up over his shoulders; you felt a bit whorish seeing your legs up in the air like that, especially when he leaned to the side to plant a wet kiss on your calf.

Soon he was letting your legs slip back down to his hips, leaning over you and caging you in with his thick arms, watching your face as he started to fuck you harder.  His long hair was at risk of tickling you as it fell down beside your face, but it was that Star of David necklace that was dangling from his neck and swinging right in your face with every thrust.  Slightly annoyed by it hitting your face from time to time, you stuck out your tongue to catch it, holding it between your teeth and finding that biting down on it helped you cope with the slight pain of him so deep inside you anyways.

"Baby," he moaned, inspired by the sight to grab your hips even tighter and slam into you even harder.  "Fuck, I'm close," he hissed.  "Gonna fill you up so good, baby, gonna ruin you for anybody else, huh?"

"Yes, Ari," you whimpered.  "I'm close, too…"

"Go ahead, pretty girl, wanna feel how tight you get when you come— when I make you come."

Trying to hold it back only made it hit you harder, and as your moans grew louder and your body began to shake, you felt your walls flutter and flex intensely.  He pulled his necklace out of your mouth and kissed you suddenly; it kept you grounded as you feared that the rest of you would float away, lost in pleasure so thoroughly that you'd never come back to reality.  His moans mixed with yours as they moved between your tongues, and just when you thought you'd break into pieces if he didn't slow down, you felt his movements stutter and his cock pump inside you.  You couldn't feel the warmth of it because you were already so hot all over, but the way his cock swelled as he came was unmistakable and overwhelmingly erotic.

He broke the kiss but didn't pull away, catching his breath while he stayed inside you, resting his forehead against yours.  

After cooling off for a moment, he scooped your limp body into his arms and lifted you into his chest; you wrapped around him and let him carry you to the other side of the room where he set you down on the pallet sleeping bags and blankets.  You whimpered as he pulled out, his softening cock still big enough to make you wince.  The gush of warm, sticky come made your cheeks burn even if it also sent a dulled tingle of arousal up your spine.  He was gentlemanly enough to wipe you off with a towel, mumbling something about how pretty you looked stuffed with his come, but you couldn't really focus on any of that because you were still waiting for sensation to return to your numbed extremities— brain included.

He turned his head and laid it on your chest, and you found yourself absent-mindedly scratching his scalp with your nails.

"That's nice," he whispered, but you could tell that already by the way his skin was erupting into goosebumps, and the way he held you tighter.

You must've laid like that for hours, or maybe it was just a few minutes, but it was one of those moments that felt like a piece of forever.  He lifted his head to look up at you, pulling you down a bit so his face hovered over yours.

"What's next for you after you get these women to Greece?" he asked quietly.

You chewed your lip as you thought about that.  "Back to DC, I figure, and then wherever they send me next.  I hear they might want me undercover in Cuba or Russia…"

"How often do you end up in Jerusalem?"

You squirmed a little beneath him, but he slipped his arm under your neck and pulled you closer; how were you supposed to think with his bicep right by your face like that?  "Uh, not often, but if I'm in town I'll give you a call—"

"Come with me," he requested softly.  "Get to Cyprus, go to Greece, and then meet me in Tel Aviv."

"Ari, I can't—"

"Why not?"

You laughed a little, but he clearly wasn’t joking.  "Because I have a job?"

"You won't need a job," he shrugged, "I make good money and you can just live with me."

Your throat went dry as you stammered, trying to figure out if he had seriously just asked you to quit your job and move in with him.

"You'll like Israel.  You speak some Hebrew don't you?"

"Uhh, yeah but—"

"Then what's stopping you?"

You couldn't answer because you didn't even know where to start with all the things that were stopping you.  Your mouth opened and closed silently like a fish out of water, and he laughed at you lightly.  

"Just say yes," he encouraged gently, and your heart twisted as you wondered if this was part of the deal, if you needed to do everything he wanted to keep him on your side.  You were on an Israeli ship, sailing international waters; if he changed his mind now, he could still sell you out and have these people arrested or worse.  But he wouldn't do that, right?

Perhaps the more important question was not 'would he do that?' but rather 'are you willing to find out?'

"Yes," you heard yourself answer before you even realized you were considering it.  

He grinned, hugging you tightly.  He was already rambling about how great it was going to be and how he would spoil you all the time and maybe find a way to get you hired as a contractor at Mossad so he could bring you along on missions, but you couldn't hear it past the ringing in your ears. You desperately needed sleep, and his arms were warm and welcoming as you drifted off.  He kissed your forehead before letting his eyes fall shut as well, joining you in unconsciousness.  

The swaying of the ship was like being rocked to sleep, so much so that you slept for an uncharacteristically long time: you were just a few hours out from your destination when you awoke, in fact.

Instead of getting up and attempting to acquire some food, you laid there staring up at the ceiling as his heavy arm draped over your chest.   Even in his sleep he had power over you, refused to let you go.  You tried to remember how you'd ended up in this situation but instead you found yourself fantasizing about a chance at love.  After running around the world for so long, there weren't many good men left to settle down with.  And Ari was maybe not an entirely good man, but you believed him when he said he would treat you well.  You'd shacked up with a lot worse in your time, when you were young and reckless and thought the worst thing you could be was alone.  Still, a long-suppressed desire for companionship was awakening in your mind and you weren't going to swallow it back down this time.  Smiling, you lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles.  If what he wanted in exchange for his cooperation was your affection, you could do that.

[eunoiaflow3r]

Agree to No Promises

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, thank you for requesting!

Warnings: mistakes, angst, fluff, mentions of kidnapping (nothing gory), and language. fem!reader.

Word Count: 4.5k

Requests:

i have a spence request!! you know that one scene where he says “this is calm, and it’s doctor”. i want a whole fic of that kind of aggressive spence in which he defends the readers honour to the rest of the BAU people, maybe she makes a call that’s risky for her own safety and the others are calling her out on it and spence gets defensive and morgan is like “calm down kid” or it can be whoever and THEN HE SAYS THAT LINE I WOULD DIE ❤️❤️

actually, some enemies to lovers with spencer would be great if they work at the bau together and for years they don’t get along and bicker and the reader knows she’s in love with spencer but doesn’t have a chance and he finds out while they’re arguing

~~~~~

You wanted to punch Spencer in the face. You wanted to shut him up, and you felt in that moment - punching him would be the perfect way to do so. But no. Your brain was not listening to what you wanted, and instead what your heart wanted, but you could not afford that right now.

When you think of Spencer Reid, you think tall, skinny, uncoordinated, annoying, rude and cocky. You can’t stand the way he looks at you, or the way his hair falls over his eyes, and even the fact that a grown-ass man never wears matching socks. You also don’t like the fact that he always seems to be right, even when you wish he wasn’t. 

According to Spencer, you were no walk in the park either. He hates that you’re so dramatic, and that you’re so hell-bent on proving yourself right. He hates that you never listen to anything he tells you, and how you act like nothing can ever get to you no matter what it is.

When Spencer thinks of you, he thinks she’s self-righteous, and that you have this stupid hero complex that you need to get over.

_

“L/N.” 

“Reid.” You greeted with just as much hostility.

Even on the plane, you both seemed to successfully make eachother mad. The team always noticed the rigidness between you two, and had even asked about the elephant in the room multiple times, but the only thing you two had seemed to come up with to explain your behavior - which you both had ironically subconsciously agreed on, was that, “It’s not my fault he/she is impossible.”

On countless random occasions, the team had tried to help fix whatever bad blood was spilled between you, but you two never caved in and instead insisted on the fact that, “nothing could be done,” to fix the unyielding tension if the other wasn’t going to change.

After they went over the ins and outs and asked the necessary questions of the case like usual, Hotch began to put the team into pairs to send them on their individual assignments.

“Prentiss, Morgan, I need you to go to the morgue and see if there’s anything significant other than the ligature marks.”

They nodded.

“JJ, Rossi, I need you to go visit the victim’s families and see if there’s anything you can find that ties these murders together. Like we said, probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”

“Of course.” JJ answers.

“Y/N, and Reid I need you two to go to the most recent scene and tell us what you find there. I’ll meet you there after I check in with the locals.”

Both you and Spencer looked absolutely offended, and you both collectively tried to come up with any reason in the books so that you would not be paired together.

“But surely-” you tried to reason.

“No.” Hotch interrupted.

“But I should -” Reid began to bargain.

Hotch interrupted once again with a cold stare, and an even colder if not snarky, “No.”

Yours and Spencer’s eyes met for a brief moment before you both decided to give up defeatedly, and roll your eyes at one another.

The team had noticed the interaction between the two of you once more and they couldn’t decide if they wanted to laugh at your childish actions, or if they wanted  to shake their heads in annoyance and say something about your behavior.

They chose the latter and ignored the both of you.

Once you had landed, and before the team all went their separate ways, Hotch told both you and Spencer to behave.

“No promises.” you replied opening the driver door to the black SUV that awaited the both of you to ride in.

Hotch gave you a  harsh glare.

“I’m joking Hotch.” you smile. “It’s a joke.”

Nodding, he walks away and gets into a car of his own with the local police department. Spencer gets in the passenger seat and immediately if not frantically, puts on his seatbelt.

You chose to ignore his actions, turned on the ignition, and drove out of the parking lot.

“Uhm, are you sure you should be driving?” Spencer asks eyebrows furrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean since -”

“You misogynistic prick!” you practically shout, now pissed.

“You’re wrist.” Spencer nods towards your hand. “You were complaining earlier about how it was cramped and all.”

“What do you care?”

“Well, ya’know. I wouldn’t want it going out, and I don’t know, kill the both of us because you weren’t careful.”

“You’re a jerk Spencer Reid.” you shake your head not taking your eyes off the road. “You ever shut up?”

“I could ask the same Y/N L/N.”

-

Your relationship with Spencer has been this way since the day you arrived.

“Everyone, meet agent L/N.” Hotch introduces you. “Y/N, meet Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid.”

You waved at everyone and said a quick “hello,” before sitting in the empty seat right across from Spencer Reid.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had done a little back up check on you before you had even arrived. Your record was crystal clear, you had done nothing wrong, your parents were alive and well, and it seemed as though you had been through nothing traumatic and this shocked Spencer.

No one’s record was this clear, which meant you were hiding something. Because of this, he could not trust you.

Instead of asking you himself, he decided to just ignore you and act rude until he got the answers he wanted. Perhaps this was you’d feel the need to tell the truth - whatever that was.

_

“I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?” You had asked once.

You had barely been at the Bureau a day and already you had seemingly made an enemy, which sucked because from what you’ve heard Spencer was the sweetest one there, and by the looks of it, definitely the cutest.

“No, you did nothing.”

“Okay.”

_

You don’t remember what he was talking about, but Spencer was ranting and that was one of your favorite things about him - just the way he could talk on and on and on about anything. 

His voice itself made you want to swoon, but everytime he spoke to you, he always seemed disinterested, and you hated that

_

You got on Spencer’s last nerve. How did you seem so perfect? You were beautiful inside and out, and he didn’t understand it. There were days where he literally just wanted to talk to you to hear your voice, and he wanted to just ramble on and on and on to you about everything, but everytime he stopped himself. 

He reminded himself that you were suspicious, and besides - with your beauty, who knew how many men you’ve been with. 

He didn’t feel like getting his heart broken anytime soon.

_

You gave him a couple of weeks - a month and a half - to warm up to you, and still nothing. 

His attitude had got nothing but worse towards you, which was confusing because when you saw him interact with anyone else, he was an absolute sweetheart.

“Why do you treat me this way?”

He ignored you.

“Fine.” You had grown impatient. “Don’t say I never tried Spencer.”

And you walked away.

_

You were no longer going to take the way he gave you the cold shoulder and the way he talked to you, so from that day forward you had done to him the same way he had done to you.

You gave him the cold shoulder, and acted annoyed whenever he spoke to you.

This had become routine for the both of you. So much of a routine, that you both had forgotten why you hated each other in the first place.

After awhile, all Spencer knew was that he couldn’t get your condescending voice out of his head, and even when he told himself that you weren’t, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

_

Everyday was a struggle to get eachother out of your heads. It seemed as though no one but that small voice in your heads knew you were secretly pining for each other, and that “hatred,” was covering up something much, much bigger, but there’s doubt you’ll be uncovering anything any time soon.

There were nights where you laid in bed just thinking about him, and times you cried yourself to sleep because at some point you realized you were in love with him, but you knew he would never ever feel the same, and that’s what hurt you the most.

_

“Excellent work guys.” Hotch compliments. “We’ll pick this up in the morning.”

The team had come together, and gathered a significant amount of information about the unsub, but it was late, and everyone needed a good night’s sleep for fresh minds the next day.

Unfortunately, roommates were the team members you were paired with earlier that day, so you were stuck sharing a room with Reid.

You huffed and through your bag on the bed. The last person you wanted to share a room with was Spencer Reid. At least you didn’t have to share a bed.

Putting a fake smile on your face, you turned to him and asked, “So are you taking a shower first or am I?”

“I’ll take mine in the morning.” he answered shortly, seemingly unbothered.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.” you replied, kind of hurt.

A hot shower should do it for you. You brought your bag into the shower, and got ready to relax under the steaming water. You rubbed your hands across your face because honestly - you were stressed. Arguing with Spencer on a daily basis was just…tiring. Sometimes you wished you knew why he hated you so much, but you knew the man wouldn’t ever tell you.

You opened your eyes, and you looked around the shower for your shampoo, but on the wall right above it was a spider.

“Shit!! Oh my God!!” You jumped out of the shower as quickly as you could, wrapped a towel around your body, and just about flew out of the bathroom.

Spencer looked up hurriedly and jumped out of his seat, in fear that you were hurt. 

“What the hell? Are you okay?”

“No!” you huffed. “There’s a spider in the shower!” 

His face was now a serious Hotch-like face. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes!”

Spencer walked into the bathroom and checked for the spider. He was now just as confused as ever.

“This is just a wolf spider,” he sighed, bringing it into the room in a cup with a napkin covering it. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“What the fuck Spencer, what are you DOING?” 

He looked at you, and then the towel around you and his nostrils flared. You were practically naked - as the only thing between the two of you was a flimsy hotel towel. He had to get out of there, so instead of answering you, he left the room and went to go free the arachnid.

Once he was outside, and had freed the spider, he took a few breaths. He was  frustrated. Absolutely frustrated, and he wasn’t sure what to do. All he saw now was that towel wrapped around your wet body and he hated the way his stomach clenched everytime he thought about that stupid towel and how easily it could have fallen and how he would have been able to -

No. He must not think this way about you. Not only was it incredibly inappropriate considering you were his coworker, but he had to keep up his, “I can’t stand her,” persona.

When he got back to the room, you were, he assumed, finished showering, and you were sitting on your bed in a pair of shorts and a tight fitted tank top leaving little to nothing of your figure to the imagination.

Of course, he was now incredibly irritated because you were real, and this wasn’t just one of his many dreams starring you where you two were using your mouths for a little something other than argue.

You had watched Spencer go into the bathroom, and you audibly let out a breath. He had said nothing to you, yet the way he looked at you made your heart and lower stomach go into a fucking frenzy. 

When he got out, he was dressed in just a regular t-shirt and basketball shorts.  You practically swooned. You had never seen him in anything other than his usual work attire, and you regrettably loved this look on him.

You shouldn’t have been thinking this way about him.

He hated you. How could anything ever happen if he was furious with you for every little thing you did?

“You know what I don’t understand?” Spencer asked climbing into his bed and turning the light off on his side.

“What?” 

You did the same so now you both were laying in the darkness.

“How do you face serial killers almost every single day, and you’re afraid of spiders?”

“Same way you’re afraid of elevator crashes I suppose.”

“But death by spiders are extremely rare - that spider was harmless.”

“I’m not afraid of getting killed by a spider, they’re just hideous.”

He laughed and said, “Yeah, well I’m sure they find you hideous as well.”

You both went to sleep with giddy smiles on your faces.

_

The next day went by pretty smoothly, and ever since the night in the hotel, Spencer had seemed a little less hostile towards you. You couldn’t help but wonder why. What changed?

Anyway, just like the day before, you were paired with Spencer, mostly indoors working on the board. Collectively you two had noticed some pretty interesting details, and you both realized you worked well together.

Soon after you gave a profile to the locals, Hotch told you and Spencer to follow a lead to a suspect’s home. You had knocked on the door, and nothing. You checked the front yard, backyard, and nothing.

It wasn’t until you checked inside a kids’ clubhouse, that you had found a secret trap door hidden underneath.

“Reid, call the team.”

He did, and once he was sure they were on their way, he helped you move the playhouse over so that you could open the door.

Once he opened it, all you two heard were sobs and the unsub yelling. You went down even after Spencer told you not to, and you saw the girl tied to a chair with a gun pointed to her head.

When the unsub saw you, a guy named Fred you believe, he changed directions, and held the gun out in front of him straight at your head.

“Fred? Hey. I’m Y/N L/N and I’ve come to help.”

“H-h-h-help? H-h-h-how can can y-you he-he-help?”

On your way over to this house, Garcia called and told you and Spencer that Fred had autism and, because of this he was like a child, he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Well Freddie,” you paused and looked him in his eyes, “May I call you Freddie?”

He nods quickly.

“Well the FBI is out there,” you heard the sirens a moment earlier, “and they’re upset that you took this girl. They might hurt you.”

“But I-I-I-I like h-h-her.”

You heard someone try to come down, and you yelled, “No!” which made all noises stop. “Do not come down here!”

Fred was scared, and confused, and he didn’t know what to do. All you could see was that the girl continued to cry, and he held his gin tighter.

You put up your hands dropping your gun, and this made him trust you a little bit more.

“Do you like me, Freddie?”

He nods enthusiastically.

“So, how about you let this girl go, and take me instead?”

“L-let her go?”

“Yes, Freddie, let her go and you can have me.” You were trying not to shake. “Can I untie her?”

“Yes.” he says and follows your movements with his gun. You walk slowly over to the girl, and untie her quickly. “When you go up there, tell them not to shoot. Tell them that the man is more unstable than we thought, okay?” She nods tears streaming down her face, and runs towards the latter.

_

Spencer was freaking out. He was pacing, and his heart was racing, and everytime he sat down his legs wouldn’t stop moving, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had cried, almost pulled out his hair, crumpled up papers in frustration and had yelled at almost every single one of his team members.

How could he have let this happen to you? He should have gone instead of you. He should have gone with you, he should have stopped you or something.

And on top of this, he always been an absolute prick to you, when deep down he felt the opposite and all he wanted to do was kiss you and tell you how he felt but now you were gone and he didn’t know if he was getting you back, and all he did know was that his heart hurt and all he wanted to do was just see you.

Just see you.

_

You had woken up tied to a chair in a child’s bedroom. 

You tried to untie or loosen the ropes, but it was no use - they were way too tight.

Fred came into the room with a tray of food for you, and he looked at you almost sadly.

“Freddie, you know they’re looking for you, right?

“I-I-I know.”

“So what’s going to happen when they do find you? You’ll kill me?”

He gasped and covered his mouth. “I could never hurt you!”

“But you hurt those other girls, Freddie.”

“Th-th-those g-girls hurt me. You’re r-re-really n-nice to me. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

You tried to smile, but all that came out was tears. You were scared to death and you had no idea what made you make the decisions you made.

“Oh, no Y/N p-please do-don’t cry.”

“Freddie these ropes really hurt, can you take them off?”

“But you’ll leave m-me.”

“Freddie, I won’t leave you, I promise okay?

_

They had a location. They knew where you were. Spencer couldn’t have been happier. 

Soon enough the team had found the house, and quietly came into the house. Morgan saw you first, relieved you were okay, and you silently told him that Fred was upstairs. He nodded and let the officers up there to make the arrest. You ran outside tears running down your face, and as soon as Spencer sees you, he runs up to you hugging you tightly. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into his shoulder.

“Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt?” He says checking you as he pushes you away from him checking for any scratch or scar or anything.

“No, I’m - I’m alright.”

“Good.” he says, getting serious now. “Then explain to me why you would do something so incredibly stupid? We were all worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?”

He shakes his head and tries not to show how angry he was with you for leaving him. Instead of answering, he walks away.

He walks away because if he stayed, he would have kissed you, and he can’t - 

He just can’t.

If he shows you that he cares, you just might hurt him and sometimes it’s easier to just shut you out, than get used to you being around and then leave him. He doesn’t want you to know how much you could hurt him if he let you in.

So he pushes you away.

_

After everyone greeted you, and asked if you were okay, and the doctors checked you out, you were all on the plane home. 

You kind of just distanced yourself from everyone because all the team seemed to do was patronize you.

“That was a huge risk Y/N, did you even think about what you were doing?” Emily asked.

“Honestly, what if it didn’t work L/N? What about the girl?” Morgan said, shaking his head.

“You could have gotten severely injured Y/N, we’re just trying to look out for you.” JJ tried to reassure you.

Everytime you tried to explain yourself, you were bombarded with another stupid question, which caused silent tears to fall down you face. Spencer saw this, and he decided he had had enough with everyone.

“You guys act like you had never made a decision like this in your entire career. At the end of the day, everyone made it out alright, and I’m sure Y/N has learned her lesson, but you guys humiliating her doesn’t help at all. Think about what she’s just been through. Just for a second can you think about how she’s feeling right now?” He sighed. “This is the first time Y/N has dones something like this and you all are giving her the third degree. So just stop.”

“Hey, calm down Reid, It’s not that we -”

“This is calm Morgan, and it’s doctor.”

With that being said Spencer moved to the back of the plane, and sat across from you. You both said nothing, but you silently thanked him.

_

Once you were back at the BAU, Hotch told him he wanted you to take some time off, and you understood. The team left avoiding both you and Spencer, mostly because of what he said on the plane, and they weren’t sure what to do now.

“Reid, can I talk to you?” He was packing up to go home, you two were the only ones left on this floor.

“Yes?”

“Why did you do that - on the plane I mean. Why would you stick up for me?”

He shrugged, basically ignoring you. Just right where you thought you were getting through to him, he closes himself back up again, and goes back to being mean to you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please don’t do that again. I don’t need your help.”

You were walking away, when he decided to argue back.

“Oh you don’t? So you'd  just would have wanted them to keep patronizing you? Honestly, I don’t see what your problem is Y/N, goodnight.”

And he was walking towards the door. You ran out in front of him blocking him from leaving.

“My problem?” You scoff. “Oh I’ll tell you what my problem is. I don’t need your saving. I don’t need you to come in like a knight on his steed and prove that you’re smarter than me every single time. Because yes, you’re smarter, and yes, you’re a doctor, and yes, I know you dislike me for some reason, but don’t go switching up your attitude if something happens to me. Just leave me alone.

Obviously you don’t know what it feels like to be me, otherwise you would know that the worst pain there is, is being in love with someone who just hates you. So, just stop. Please, just stop.”

And once you said what you needed to, you walked off gathering your things so that you could go home too. You felt like crying, but you couldn’t. Not here. You couldn’t believe you just said what you did.

Despite what he wanted, he stood frozen in place. He was conflicted. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was telling him to do one thing, while his heart told him to do another.

He took quick strides over to your desk, and turned your body gently so that you were facing him, and you were basically trapped between him and your desk behind you.

“I couldn’t save you.” He began. “I was with you, and then I wasn’t and I couldn’t help you. You were doing that stupid heroic shit you tend to do, and I wasn’t there to help you. You were hurting, and it hurt me that I wasn’t there to heal you. And believe me, it keeps me awake at night when I think about the way I treat you, and I’m sorry, I am. I’m sorry if you felt like I hated you, because believe me, I don’t.

There is nothing to hate about you other than the fact that you’re just so goddamn perfect and I know I could never have you, and even if I did, I would give all of me to you, and that scares me. It scares me that I would be so willing to hand my heart over to you, and it scares me that you have all this power over me. It hurts that you have the power to torture me, so yes, I push you away, and I’m sorry I care about you, but I just, I just-”

And this was that moment.

That moment where your head told you to punch him, because God knows you wanted to, but your heart told you to just swallow all of that angst and just give yourself to him. 

To tell him with your lips that you felt the same, and just leave all the arguing behind.

But something was -

You didn’t hate him. And he just confessed that he didn’t hate you, and now his face was under your fingertips, and your lips were on his. Tears were falling, you weren’t sure if they were yours or his, but he was kissing you back and his arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt like you were on fire. Your hands were now tangled in his hair, and his hands caressed your sides. He had brought you closer to him, and through this kiss you both felt all the so-called, “hatred,” and, “dislike,” evaporate into thin air.

He pulled away from you, and you wiped away his tears.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you didn’t deserve what I did to you. None of it. If I could take it all back, I would. I’ll make it up to you, I promise I will.”

“You’re such a boy Spencer Reid.” You say.

“What?” He’s confused.

“Mother’s tell their little girls that when boys are mean to them, that they must like them, and that’s why they’re acting that way.”

“Well that’s not very healthy. That tells those little girls that when a man hits them, or is crude towards them, that that’s perfectly normal and that they should just take it because the man loves them.”

“Well true,” Spencer was still holding you, and you went on “but the point was that you must have really liked me since you were so mean to me.”

“I mean, sure. But I don’t see why a mother would -”

“Hey, agree to disagree, okay?”

_

A month or so passed, and the team noticed a huge shift. You and Spencer were no longer arguing constantly, well, of course there were disagreements and such, but you two didn’t act like you hated each other.

“Promise me you’ll stop trying to be the hero.” Spencer told you once.

“No promises.”

Because if you weren’t the hero, you wouldn’t have saved the girl, wouldn’t have gotten Fred help, wouldn’t have the arrogant prince turned good, and you wouldn’t have agreed to disagree.

~~~~~~

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

WPP - Kenny (We’re The Millers)

This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I was struggling to finish it, but, a bright light ascended from the heavens, in the form of an angel, and that angel’s name is @gladerscake

Big thanks to them for helping me out and finishing this imagine. Go follow them and give all the love and support you can muster!

~~~~~~~~~~

Being in the witness protection program was...interesting.

It definitely was not what you were expecting, but then again, you didn’t know helping out a person you cared about would get you involved in a murder, yet here you are.

You had to leave everything behind, not that you had that much of a life to begin with, but it was comfortable. Now, everything was different. New home in a new state, even a new last name. Thankfully, you got to keep your first name, you were grateful for that at least.

You were surprised to find the most annoying thing was the neighbourhood that the program placed you in. It’s like it was made for Mormons or something, your neighbours were too nice, at least the house to the right of yours. You didn’t really know who lived in the house to the left, working from home had the benefit of never going outside and the only reason you knew who lived to your right was cause those neighbours were the type of people to introduce themselves.

Yuck.

But still, you couldn’t help but be a little curious.

You did know, however, that they had only recently moved in since the one morning truck woke up before your alarm rang that morning. You were grouchy the rest of the day, thus you’ve been slightly petty towards your “new” neighbours since then. You definitely needed to work on your attitude...one day.

After being inside your house for more than a week, you decided you wanted some vitamin D, which you rarely ever did so you must’ve been seriously deprived.

You walked out of the door leading to the backyard with a book in hand, frowning when you saw how overgrown the grass was from your laziness. You told yourself you’d do it later, and by later you meant you would mow your yard when you started to hate yourself enough to the point where you felt too guilty leaving it alone.

You huffed as you sat in one of your lawn chairs that you bought when you moved in, lying to yourself that you were going to spend more time outside when you knew you wouldn’t. A first for everything, you supposed.

A few chapters in, you heard a door open and shut in your neighbour’s backyard, but you thought nothing of it, almost too entranced in your book.

You smiled to yourself when you started to hear 1990s R&B playing softly, not your cup of tea but you enjoyed it occasionally. Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls had just started playing when you heard the neighbour’s back door slammed. “Dude, turn that shit off! You’ve been playing that song constantly and I’m actually getting sick of it. God.” You heard an angsty female voice.

Oh no...you lived next a family.

“Hey!”

You flinched, noticing a blonde girl was talking you. “Uh, hey?” You slowly closed your book, reluctantly walking over to the fence separating the backyards when the girl motioned you over.

“Haven’t seen you around before, just move in?” She asked, smirking slightly, looking you up and down.

You mocked her smirk, not liking the almost condescending look she was giving you. “No, been here for awhile. That’s how I know you’ve only just moved in a few weeks ago.”

The girl’s smirk only grew. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Casey, and that loser is Kenny.” She pointed to the table behind her, seeing a blonde boy sitting somewhat dejectedly in one of the chairs fiddling with a small CD player. “Hey, TLC, get over here!” The boy looked to Casey with a panicked expression, visibly looking like he wasn’t sure if the girl meant it or not. She rolled her eyes, “Come on, dude!”

The boy nodded, frantically walking away to join Casey at the fence. “Hey.” He stuttered, blushing when he noticed your eyes on him.

Casey rolled her eyes yet again. “Yeah, this is Kenny.”

Kenny waved quite adorably, giving you a tight lipped smile. “Did you just move in?”

“No, I-”

“We’ve already had this talk, she’s been here longer than we have.” Casey interrupted, making your blood boil a little bit, her attitude almost worse than yours.

Kenny frowned slightly, but covered it up with a smile. “Oh.”

“Yep. We’ve already become besties.” You said sarcastically, grinning widely, making Kenny genuinely smile a little.

“Kids!” A middle aged man with a stupid haircut, to you anyway, walked over with hesitant look on his face. “Who’s this?”

“Y/N, your neighbour that’s lived here longer than you have. Saved you the trouble of telling him yourself, Casey.” You sneered.

“Oh. Well, I’m David and we’re the Millers! My wife, Sarah, is at the market right now, but I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you sometime.” He smiled widely, making you uncomfortable.

“Uh, dad, chill out. You’re gonna scare away the only girl I find suitable to be friends with in this shit neighbourhood.” Casey whispered harshly.

You didn’t really want to be friends with Casey, you never really got along with girls. Clearly, reading outside was a bad choice...

“Ha ha, if you sass me one more time today, you will be grounded young lady.” David forced another smile.

“Uh, Dad...”

“Shut up, Kenny.”

You quickly realized where the Kenny kid was in the family food chain. It was a shame, the dude was pretty easy on the eyes and seemed nice from what you’ve seen. “Look, I’m just gonna go. Nice meeting you fine folks...” You waved awkwardly, turning around and practically speed walking inside your house.

Well, that was fun...never going outside ever again.

The overall encounter put you in a sour mood, so when the doorbell rang you prayed to god that it wasn’t the yearly check in with law enforcement cause you’d probably get yourself in trouble with that attitude of yours.

You were mildly shocked to see that awkward Kenny guy outside your door, his eyes trained on his feet before you opened the door. “Kenny Miller, right?”

“Uh...yeah, Miller. Uh, I just want to apologize for my, uh, family’s behavior. They don’t have the best of manners, but they’re good people, I swear!” He ranted at such a quick pace that it almost flew right over your head. “So, yeah, sorry.”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “You don’t have to be sorry, especially on the behalf of your family. They don’t seem like the type to appreciate it anyway.”

His eyes widened, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “No, no, no, it’s not like that! They, uh, appreciate me.” You kept your mouth shut, giving him a sympathetic look with a soft smile. He sighed. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“To me, it is. I’ve been in that situation before, so it’s not that hard to notice.”

“Oh...well, they can be nice sometimes I guess.”

“I hope so. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kenny.” You stuck your hand out, smiling when he hesitated but shook your outstretched hand gently.

A week later, you and Kenny actually became friends despite the two of you being almost complete opposites. He was able to poke through your cynical exterior, which was extremely rare for someone to do. He made you laugh, smile, and actually enjoy life when you were with him. You didn’t like it at first, but his adorkable personality won you over.

Kenny was more than overjoyed, he finally had a friend, not one out of pity anyway. The first time you two had hung out, he came “home” with a huge grin on his face. Of course, Casey had to tease him about it all the time.

“I still don’t understand how she can be friends with that loser and not me!” Casey ranted. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Casey, stop calling Kenny a loser, please.” Sarah sighed, tapping away on her keyboard.

As soon as Sarah said that, Kenny walked through the door with another grin on his face. “Hey, Ma!”

“You don���t have to call me that here, hon.” Sarah voiced, shutting her laptop and walking out of the kitchen, but she smiled to herself.

“Pop your cherry yet?” Casey smirked evilly.

Kenny immediately blushed. “I told you, we’re just friends...”

She rolled her eyes. “You obviously want to be more than just friends with her. You should just ask her out and get it over with.”

“But...Melissa...”

Casey huffed loudly. “Dude, I already told you, she’s probably moved on by now. She was a total babe, she can and probably has done way better than you.”

“Hey...” Kenny frowned, to which Casey just shrugged, her eyes training back to her phone. He sighed as he sat down across from his “sister.” “I do like her...but I don’t know how to bring it up. I’m awful at talking to girls about...that kind of stuff.”

Casey snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.” But she dropped her amused smirk when she saw Kenny glaring. “Sorry, sorry.” She sassed. “I mean, it did work out with the ginger to be fair, but we have to stay in this shithole until further notice. But I really do think you should shoot your shot with what’s her name.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just-”

“That girl is bad news.” David suddenly voiced, walking into the kitchen.

“What do you mean by that?” Casey asked.

“Uh, hello? Pay attention to your surroundings instead of that stupid phone of yours to see that we are in witness protection. We can’t trust any of these creepy neighbours.”

“Uh, I think you’re a tad bit paranoid, father dearest.”

“Y/N’s really cool though!” Kenny expressed.

David rolled his eyes. “But we don’t really know her, we don’t know if she’s a snitch or something.”

Casey laughed. “Wow, you really are paranoid, dude.”

“Ha ha, very funny, just go to your room and listen to your Metallicas and AC/DCs.”

Casey’s face contorted into a disgusted scowl. “I don’t listen to that garbage.”

“Shut up.” David simply replied, making Casey stand up and storm out of the room and up the stairs. “Look, Ken, I get you like this girl, but you need to be careful. Don’t say things you shouldn’t and all that. You have a tendency to not know when to shut your mouth. So, don’t do that, kay?”

Kenny nodded curtly, avoiding David’s eyes as he felt his face heat up in slight anger. He knew he had some...issues with keeping his mouth shut about things that should be kept a secret, but he grew up, right? He’s not as naïve as he was before they went to Mexico, but his “family” still treated him like he was five. Plus, he knew you weren’t the type to be a snitch.

While Kenny was dealing with feeling underappreciated, you were having your own set of issues to handle. Today was the day for a check up with law enforcement to make sure you were on your best behavior. You always were, but it still made you anxious to no end. And you prayed that Kenny wouldn’t rush in to your house like he got into the habit of doing when you were interrogated.

Of course, that didn’t happen. 

“For fuck’s sake...” You muttered under your breath when you saw Kenny’s shocked and scared face when he saw you sitting with a couple local police officers.

On your end, it just looked like he was scared of police officers. But Kenny’s mind immediately went haywire, thinking that you called them over to investigate them even though the police were already informed of “the Millers” situation. 

“Kenny, now’s not a good time.” You sighed.

“No, no, it’s okay.” The police officer in front of you said. “We’re done here anyway.” He walked out of your house with his partner, leaving you and Kenny in an awkward silence.

“What was that all about?” Kenny asked, not being able to control the bitter tone in his voice. “Did you think we’re that bad or something?”

“Kenny, I-”

“We’ve been doing really well here!” Kenny interrupted. “No problems with anybody, been on our best behavior.”

“Kenny.”

“I don’t wanna go to jail. I can’t go to jail. We’ve only been here for a couple months.”

“Kenny, stop!” You finally yelled, losing your temper. “They were here to check up on me, for fuck’s sake.”

Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but still had a slight expression of panic. “Here for you? B-But-”

“I’m in witness protection, you dweeb, same as you.”

“Oh...Wait, how did you know I’m in witness protection?”

“Your family,” You finger quoted, “looks nothing like you. All of you don’t look anything alike. How paranoid and secretive that David is, it wasn’t too hard to put things together. You rambling off like an absolute moron a minute ago just reaffirmed my theory.”

Kenny frowned. “Dang, I thought I had worked on that.”

You smiled slightly. “It’s alright, Ken. I’m no snitch, and I’m not very judgmental about someone’s past. What did you even do though? You’re definitely not the type to break the law.” You chuckled.

“Oh, well, we kinda smuggled some drugs across the Mexican border.” He stuttered.

“Holy shit, dude! That’s sick! What was it? Was it coke?” You grinned, eager to learn.

Kenny blinked at your excitement, but obliged to all your questions, sitting down next to you. “No, it was marijuana.”

Your face slightly dropped in excitement. “Oh. I really think weed should be legal. It’s stupid, it’s not even a hard drug.”

“Well, we’re lucky we even made it out alive. But what did you go through to get yourself here?”

Now, you definitely didn’t judge past crimes of others, if they’ve atoned for it and changed that is, but you had no idea if Kenny would judge you. You actually found yourself not wanting him to look at you in a different light, and you’ve never felt that way before. 

Kenny seemed perfectly sweet, almost too sweet to judge anyone, but on the other hand...the stuff that had landed you in the program was definitely heavier than some weed smuggling. 

Maybe it would be too much for him. Maybe it would be best to just make something up, something less horrible, something he wouldn’t be too shocked by.  As tempting as that route felt, the idea of lying to him weirdly didn’t sit well with you, though. 

Kenny was quick to notice the lengthy pause that followed his question, as well as the way your shoulders tensed and your eyes averted to the parquet floor. Oh no. Had he pried into something too personal? Was he an idiot for asking?

“Oh, um...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” Kenny hurried to assure you, slight panic beginning to etch his bluish-green eyes, his fists clenching and unclenching involuntarily. “I was just curious, is all! I’m sorry if it’s too persona-“ 

“It’s okay!” To his surprise, you pulled on a tight-lipped smile, giving him a look as nonchalant as you could manage at the moment. “Really, you don’t have to apologize for asking. Plus, you already told me about your thing, so...” You trailed off, softly, wondering how to proceed. 

As much as you resented the thought of Kenny seeing you differently, you decided even that unpleasant outcome would still be better than lying to him. You’d rather not. You liked Kenny. Despite not having spent a tremendous amount of time together, you could tell he was a genuinely good person, and you definitely enjoyed his company. Not to mention, it would be a blatant lie if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him. 

Casey may have spent most of their interactions calling him a “loser” in some form or another, but you couldn’t be farther away from agreeing with her. A part of you was positively annoyed with the way she treated him. Then again, taste is subjective. It wasn’t Casey’s fault if she didn’t have a good sense of it. 

With a deep intake of air, you nervously flipped a loose strand of hair over your shoulder, still avoiding direct eye-contact with Kenny. “I, uh...It’s a rough one, really. And kind of a long story. I wouldn’t wanna dump something like that on you, if you’d rather not hear it” 

He tentatively pursed his plump lips, but nonetheless nodded for you to keep going. “I’m sure I can handle it! Whatever it is, I’m not gonna judge you, Y/N. I promise!” 

Promise, huh? Guess you were going to have to see about that. 

Trying to ignore the rapidly increasing pace of your heart and slight tremble in your fingers, you began your story. 

You didn’t want to go into too much detail, for the fear of oversharing, but you did tell him as much as you felt you could. About how you used to have a friend...a pretty close friend, who you cared about a great deal, who had always been kind and generous, alas, a bit of a troublemaker.

About how she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, something you admittedly failed to see coming. How that crowd turned out to be a notoriously vicious gang that had it out for some other poor girl, who had apparently slept with one of the gang leaders’ boyfriend without realizing it. 

How that gang, your friend included, lured her onto a rooftop to “fuck with her” and “teach her a lesson.” Only that night, they went too far and ended up pushing her off. The girl died instantly, and due to the heaping pile of evidence, it wasn’t a particularly long investigation. Almost everyone involved were arrested shortly after, and you, having been brought in as one of the witnesses, had a choice whether you wanted to testify against your friend or not. 

At first you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that and make matters worse for her. However, after some much-needed reflection and consideration, you decided it would be the right thing to do. Someone had died, and your friend played a part in it. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to something that big simply because you two were close. 

Your friend was put away, along with several other gang members. Still, quite a few of them were still out there, and they definitely seemed like the type to hold serious grudges. You were no longer safe at your former home, and now...well, there you where. 

Kenny listened intently all the while, not once daring to interrupt, not even to ask a question. By the way your breathing had hitched and your lips had stuttered at certain parts, he could tell how hard that must’ve been for you to go through in the first place, and how unsettling it was for you to revisit those moments in order to share your story with him. 

You didn’t notice, but as you were nearing the end, Kenny had inched to sit closer to you, his large hand carefully landing on your shoulder with a soft but warm-hearted squeeze. He had briefly hesitated in making that move, but the need to offer you comfort and reassurance overpowered his nervousness. His only hope was that you wouldn’t flinch at his touch, and so he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him when you did no such thing. 

“So...that’s about it. Sorry, I know it’s a fucking bummer story, compared to your weed smuggling adventure.” You attempted a chuckle, only it came out as more of a sad scoff. 

Your heart was still pounding and you were still reluctant to look up at him. Although, as you finally noticed Kenny’s warm hand gently squeezing your shoulder, you felt a soothing brush of comfort spread through your limbs, and you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. 

“Whoa...that’s...I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Kenny frowned, unsure of what the right thing to say could be. 

“It’s okay, really. I’ve had some time to process it and move on. Well...not completely, but I’d say I’m doing much better now.” 

Kenny went silent for a minute, clearly still digesting the information, and the worries you had about him looking at you differently came back in full force. You opened your mouth to ask him about it, but he beat you by a millisecond, speaking first. “Why...why were you so nervous about telling me?” 

So he had noticed. Figures. The art of the poker face wasn’t something you’d ever truly mastered. It sometimes annoyed you how easy your anxious state was to spot, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. 

“I don’t know, I...I guess I didn’t want you to see me as a snitch or judge me-“

“Judge you?” Kenny interrupted, sounding confused about the mere insinuation. “For what, not sticking up for your friend when she had got herself involved in a murder?” 

“I mean, she was still my friend, so...” 

“So what? That doesn’t change the fact that she got in the middle of something so horrible, that could’ve been avoided, if she had paid more attention to who she hung around.” 

You couldn’t say you had expected that. It was almost weird hearing Kenny talk that way, but you were definitely relieved to hear where he so firmly stood in regards to the whole “judging you” idea. 

You bit your bottom lip in agitation as a thought you had been wrestling with for a while creeped its way into your mind again. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I could’ve done something...could’ve checked up on her more or somehow stopped her from hanging out with them...maybe I could’ve kept her from having anything to do with it.” Your voice grew quieter, sounding barely above a whisper as guilt flashed through your eyes, your muscles tensing, uneasily, at the thought. Kenny was immediately closer, his arm wrapping around you, as if trying to shelter you from your own thoughts. 

“Come on, don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. You can’t control the actions of others, not even your friends. Least of all your friends, probably.” 

You allowed a small smile to touch the corner of your lips as you instinctively leaned into Kenny, his closeness calming you, his soft reassurances shushing the self-deprecating thoughts he could sense looming over you. 

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I just try not to think about it often, it really sucks diving into that stuff.” 

“Of course it sucks. I just hope you know that none of it was even a little bit your fault. From what I can tell after spending some time with you...you’re a really good person, Y/N.” 

You looked up at him, noting the way your faces were only a few inches apart by that point. The close proximity brought a rosy tinge to your cheeks. “You think so?” 

“I do! Why wouldn’t I? You’re smart, you’re funny when you want to be, you’re great to be around, and heck, you’re one of the very few people I know who doesn’t make me feel like I’m constantly doing something wrong.” 

Hearing that made you simultaneously happy and sad. With the way Kenny’s “family” treated him almost around the clock, it was no wonder he felt that way. You wished he didn’t have to. You believed someone as wonderful as him deserved so much better. If only he had at least one person close to him who would tell him how much better he was than most guys out there, how anyone should be lucky to call him a friend... or maybe more than just a friend. 

In that moment, you found yourself thinking what it would be like if you were that person. You imagined it would feel the same way it always did when you were around Kenny, only better. In all honesty, you couldn’t find a single reason not to try. What harm was there in trying? Oh, that’s right...something could go badly wrong, and then whatever friendship you had with him would be in shambles.

That’s what the pessimistic side of you thought about it. But the other side, the more hopeful and affectionate side, had other ideas. 

Even though you and Kenny were brought into the witness protection program by very different circumstances, you were still in it together. You didn’t have to hide your true identities or your past, at least not from each other. That had to count for something, right? 

While you were taking a second to collect your thoughts, Kenny was facing some inner turmoil of his own. With the newfound closeness of the two of you, his cheeks were positively crimson, his pulse quickening, heart thumping against his rib cage. Any doubts he’d had about whether or not he wanted to ask you out had vanished - he absolutely wanted to do that. But how? When? Would now be a good time? He wasn’t sure. Yet, he was very aware of the fact that if he were to lean in just a little bit closer, he could just kiss you right then and there... 

Kenny briefly remembered David’s “count to three” method, but for some reason it didn’t feel right to use. Not with you, not like that. All he wanted was to just go with the feeling, and that feeling was beckoning him to your lips. 

Oh, screw it. If you were to push him away, so be it. He would probably die a little inside and never attempt to do anything like that ever again, but at least he would know your immediate answer. 

“Kenny...?” 

Your soft questioning voice reached his ears as his gaze trailed over your delicate face, taking in every feature, and with a soft but resolute breath, he leaned in. 

Your eyes went wide when Kenny’s lips landed on yours. You froze for a second, not knowing what to do. Luckily, your instantly skipping heart gave you the hint you needed to flutter your eyes closed and melt into it. 

He kissed you so gently, so carefully, but not like he was afraid of scaring you away. More like he wanted you feel completely safe and give you every chance to stop it the second you wanted to. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his neck, your fingertips brushing the ends of his short sandy hair, your lips moving seamlessly and warmly against his own.

Kenny couldn’t believe you were actually kissing him back, but damn, he was thrilled that you were. He felt the affection in him surge as the softness of your lips put his mind in a haze. His hand timidly slid down to your waist, bringing you closer to him, and you willingly went, deepening the kiss as you did. 

After a few blissful moments you finally broke away from his lips, your noses nearly brushing each other as you looked up at him through glimmering eyes. “I was almost convinced I would have to do that myself...” 

Kenny breathed a soft chuckle, not taking his gaze off of yours. “To be honest, so was I...” 

You grinned at his burning cheeks, releasing a light chuckle of your own before reconnecting your lips for another kiss, swallowing the muted grunt that rumbled from Kenny’s throat. 

Things were going to get better now. For both of you, you were sure of it. Kenny was finally going to have someone who would show him what it’s like to be truly wanted and appreciated, and you were going to have someone who wouldn’t dream of hurting you and who you knew would always do his best to understand you, give you everything he could give. 

Maybe this whole witness protection program thing wouldn’t be such a tedious affair, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks again for helping me @gladerscake​ , you’re the sweetest ❤

[laddieseddiemunster]

A poly lost boys x reader who gets bullied in school. But hear me out! So she gets bullied but one day they(the bullies) pour this sort of 'bleach' over her and it gets into her eyes and her hair color changed. And so she avoids the boys as much as possible so they show up to her house and see her how would they react and deal with the bullies?

Thank you for the request! Also the part where she gets bleach in her eyes I cut out because she would have permanent damage in her eyes if that were to happen. So only her hair gets bleached. I hope you don’t mind.

Another long fanfic :) hope you enjoy!

Bullied (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

warning(s): angst & violence

Being picked on every now and then is one thing, but being brutally bullied by the most popular girls in school is another. The worst part was, everyone seemed to love and worship them. You hated going to school. Everyone believed their nasty comments about you, and soon you didn’t have anyone on your side.

The boys were your only escape from it all. They treated you like a princess. You were gorgeous to them, and that’s all that really mattered. Their complements made you feel special and confident. As long as you were beautiful in their eyes, the nasty girls that were bullying you opinions didn’t phase you. Of course it still hurt, but you had the boys, and you loved them.

You got used to the bullying after a while. The boys were unaware of it because you didn’t know exactly how they’d react. They were a bit protective of you. Before you met the boys the bullying wasn’t as bad, but when you started dating them it got worse. Those horrible girls found out and started called you a whore and slut for dating four boys at once. They were jealous. You knew that, but the harsh name calling got to you sometimes. You never let them see you cry though. All they wanted was to get a reaction out of you, and you knew that.

This day didnt start off any different from the rest. You went to school, got some dirty looks from your schoolmates, and went to your classes. The only difference was, you hadn’t seen the mean girls who’d bully you. Perhaps today would be better than you’d thought.

Lunch came around and you were forced to eat some of the disgusting cafeteria food. The smell made you want to gag. As you were walking towards the lunch tables [insert bully girl name] called you over to her. You didn’t trust her one bit. She had been bullying you for a while, so why should you trust her?

“Come here! I just wanna talk to you,” she said waving you over to her. You rolled you eyes thinking that she was just going to pick on you. You decided to walk over anyway, but standing a couple feet away from her to keep your distance.

She looked over at you, giving you the up and down stare. “So, hows your day been?”

“Okay, I guess,” You said feeling very confused. There was no way this girl would want to start a friendship with you.

“Well, I called you over here because I wanted to ask you a few questions,” She said which made you feel a bit worried.

“What kind of questions?” You asked giving her a questioning look.

“Well i wanted to know if you were really dating those four guys?” She asked with a slight smirk on her face. “Or if it’s just a rumor.”

You rolled your eyes again thinking she was just going to call you a whore. “Yes I am.”

Instead of doing that, she sighed and looked to the ground. “You must be lucky.”

“Yeah umm, yeah I guess I am,” You said with a small smile creeping on your face as you thought of how lucky you were.

“Actually, umm,” she said with a pause. “I didn’t call you over here to ask you questions.”

You sighed. “Then why’d you call me over here?” You asked with slight attitude knowing that this girl was not trustworthy.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said fidgeting a bit.

“For what?” You said giving her a strange look. If she was going to give you an apology for all those years of bullying, then you wanted to hear her say it.

“I’m sorry for...” she paused again. Her eyes looked to the ground as she was speaking. Then all of a sudden her expression changed. Her apologetic frown changed into a slight smirk, but at the same time she was giving you a look of disgust in her eyes. “I’m sorry for your boyfriends, because they have to deal with an ugly slut like you!” She smiled as if she was proud of what she was saying. You sighed again while mentally cursing yourself for even believing that she’d give you an apology.

“Now!” She yelled but you could tell that she wasn’t talking to you. She backed away from you quickly as if she was running for something. Then all of a sudden you felt some drops of liquid start to fall on you. At first you thought it was rain, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You weren’t too fazed by it until you recognized the smell. It was a strong smell that was hard to forget. Before you could try to run away, a whole waterfall of the substance was dumped on top of you. As if someone was standing above you with a bucket and on purposely dropped it all over you.

The smell was now stronger than ever. Your hair and clothes were now all wet, but not with water. You noticed your top had completely lost its color, and a nightmare you’d never thought would happen to you was happening. This was bleach. You were practically inhaling it, so you started to cough. A sound that happened to be louder than your coughing made you pause. Laughter. From the girls you hated the most. You looked above you and saw that a couple of them were standing on the building you were in front of, so you were right below them.

Reality sunk in quick. This was no nightmare. Your worst enemies had just poured bleach all over you. Your hands started to shake. Not out of pain, but out of fear and shock.

“Hey y/n!” One of the girls said while still laughing. “It’s not so bad. Maybe your boyfriends will like you now, since your hair is bleached.” She cackled.

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Bleach can ruin anyone’s hair, and it was all over you. The sound of those terrible girls laughing filled your ears as you ran to the nearest bathroom. You looked in the mirror and realized your hair was already loosing its natural color. You let out a loud gasp, but to you it sounded silent. You didn’t look like yourself.

Quickly, you turned the handle for the sink letting the water run on your now bleached hair. You tried desperately to remove the beach and get your original color back, but nothing worked. The roots of your hair were now all the same yellow/blonde color.

“Oh, don’t be upset!” Said one of the bully’s. “You don’t look like your ugly self anymore!”

“Go away!” You yelled at them with your bottom lip trembling as you were trying to hide the fact that you were on the brink of sobbing. “Leave me alone!”

“Aww, you gonna cry?” They taunted you. “The little baby’s gonna cry!” You pushed past them and ran out of the bathroom letting tears escape your eyes. You could still hear their laughter and insults from behind you, but you didn’t look back. You ran all the way home not caring that you still had a couple classes to take. Their bullying was never this bad. You were able to handle it for a while, but they crossed the line.

The reflection in your bedroom mirror wasn’t the person you recognized. You felt ugly. Your hair was now all bleached, and you didn’t have the money to go and get it done. All you could do was try to get used to it. Your confidence level was now at zero. You had grown to love your natural hair, and now it was gone. All because of those horrible jealous girls.

The thought of the boys seeing your new hair that you thought was hideous made you want to crawl up in a hole and never come out. You hated seeing the way you now looked, so how would the boys react? You cried yourself to sleep at the thought of them leaving you because of how ugly you now looked. You decided not to go to school for the next few days. Facing the girls wasn’t something you were ready for yet. You didn’t even want to see the boys. From fear of their reactions, you didn’t visit them or call them.

The boys were a little confused on the first night of not showing up on the boardwalk, but they decided not to worry too much about it. They just assumed that maybe you needed some space. After a week of you not speaking to them, the boys started to get worried. You would never just stop talking to them out of the blue. They were all confused, and even a little sad. David knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t stop talking to them unless you were upset about something. The only problem was, he couldn’t understand what it was. None of them could. They assumed you were mad at them because you weren’t speaking to them, but they had no idea what they had done.

David got pretty impatient after the first week, and he let the boys know that they were going to go to your house if you weren’t going to speak with them. If you wanted to break up, they wanted a reason why.

You had been trying to get some sleep from the nights of crying, but you were taken off guard by hearing the sounds of motorcycles outside your house. You recognized that sound. It was a sound you knew only too well. The boys were here, and they were here for an explanation that you weren’t prepared to give.

Kicking your blankets out of the way as you got out of bed as quick as you could while looking for something that could possibly cover your hair. You found a hoodie and immediately put on. There was no point in trying to escape, you knew the boys would find you. Right as you were putting the hood over your head, you heard your window open.

“Baby?” You could tell by the tone of voice that it was Paul. “Why have you been ignoring us?” You didn’t dare face him. You could already tell that he had his usual pouting sad face on that was just too adorable to be mean to.

“Y/n,” Marko said. “Please, look at us.” His voice was slightly shaky, as if he was worried you wanted to end the relationship.

Your back was still towards them. You knew there was no way out of this, but that didn’t stop you from trying.

“Please go away,” you said feeling tears start to form in your eyes. Marko decided to not listen. He walked up to you and grabbed you lightly by the shoulders forcing you to turn to him. He had a confused yet soft expression on his face.

“What’s the matter?” He asked you while putting his hands on both sides of your face. That question just made you feel worse, and the tears that were threatening to fall were now falling. Marko’s expression was now turned to worry and sadness. He hated seeing you cry. He wiped your tears away with his thumbs before doing what you were trying to avoid. Marko grabbed the sides of the hoodie, and pulled it off of your head.

Your eyes started to tear up again waiting for him to tell you that you looked terrible. Instead, he reached over to touch your bleached hair, and the frown on his face turned into a smile. “Wow.” he said. “You look gorgeous.”

Then they all came up to do with a look of awe in their eyes. You were definitely taken aback by their reactions. You expected them to hate your new hair, but it was the exact opposite.

“Daaammnn sugar, look at you,” Paul said while brushing his fingers through your hair. You giggled at his choice of words.

“It doesn’t look bad?” You asked.

“Bad?!” Marko exclaimed. “Far from it!”

“You look beautiful,” Dwayne said with a smile on his face. “Just as beautiful as you were before.”

“Y/n,” David said catching your attention away from the other boys. “Why have you been ignoring us?” You cringed after hearing that question. You were able to avoid it the first time, but something tells you that you won’t be able to this time. “Did you stop talking to us because you dyed your hair?” David said with slight sarcasm, but also slight attitude.

“N-no. No, it wasn’t that,” you said looking away from the boys.

“Then what was it?” David asked. You could tell he wanted an answer right away, and there wasn’t much you could do.

You sighed. “I didn’t do this to my hair,” The boys looked at each other with a look of confusion on all their faces. “It was forced.”

“What do you mean?” David asked while stroking your face with his knuckles.

“These girls pulled a prank on me last week,” you said half lying. “They dumped bleach all over me, and it changed my hair.”

“A prank?!” Marko asked raising his voice. “That’s no damn prank!” You knew Marko got angry a lot quicker than the other boys did. This wasn’t something he was going to sweep under the rug, Marko was going to want revenge.

“Yeah!” Paul agreed. “Why would they do that to you?” He asked still touching your new hair.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess they just don’t like me.” You refused to tell them that the bullying was caused because the girls were jealous of you for dating them.

“Well who are these girls? I wanna give them a piece of my mind?!” Marko exclaimed.

“No!” You knew that the boys were vampires. You found out accidentally by walking into the cave when Marko was feeding. It didn’t go to well, but the boys managed to convince you that they would never hurt you. But, you already knew that Marko wanted to kill your bullies. “You’ll just make things worse!”

“They deserve this!” Paul said only making matters worse for you. “No one does this to our babe!”

You groaned knowing that the boys wouldn’t stop arguing until they found out who the girls were. You wanted the bullying to stop, but at the same time you didn’t want the girls to die.

David put his hand under your jawline making you into his eyes. “Y/n, tell us who the girls are.” You could tell by the way David was speaking that this wasn’t a request, this was a demand. He wanted to know, and he wanted to know now. You walked to your bookshelf and grabbed a yearbook from the previous school year. Flipping through the pages, you found your grade category, and pointed out each of the girls to them.

“That’s them?” Dwayne asked sounding surprised.

“Yeah, you know them?” You asked him.

“Babe, those girls have been trying to get with us for ages. We always rejected them,” Paul said which made you smile.

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s go get those girls!” Marko said clearly ready for a killing spree.

“No! Please don’t kill them,” you said grabbing onto Marko’s jacket. “They’re jerks, but they don’t deserve to die.”

“I think they do,” David said smirking at the idea of slaughtering your bullies.

“How about this,” you paused grabbing all of their attention onto you. “You guys can scare them by showing your vampire faces, and they should stay away from me after that right? They’ll probably be too scared to get near me, and no one at school will believe them!”

“I like the killing idea better,” Marko said while pouting in a playful way.

“Please.” Now you were the one pouting.

The boys looked at each other. You knew that they would rather kill all the girls, so you got lucky when they agreed to your plan.

You knew that the mean girls would go to the bonfire late at night for party’s or just to hang out, so that made your plan a bit easier. The boys loved to scare people almost as much as they loved killing, so they were excited for it all to unravel. You rode on the back of David’s bike as he drove to the bonfire with the other boys riding behind him. He drove with a smirk on his face, which meant he was ready to scare the shit out of those girls. You’re his baby, and no one better hurt you.

Luckily, when you all got there, the girls were by themselves. You decided to stay with the bikes, so the girls wouldn’t see you. The thought of being around those girls made you feel uncomfortable. They were terrible people, and you weren’t ready to face them. The boys sure were though. They were ready to make them scream out of fear.

When the girls saw the boys walk towards them they immediately started to get flirty. “What are you guys doing here? Did you come to see us?” One of them said.

“Actually we did,” David said. “We heard what you did to y/n.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry, it was an accident. I swear! The bucket of bleach just happened to drop all over her.” She said sarcastically.

“That was a really bitchy thing to do.” Marko said not buying any of her bullshit.

“Come on, you guys. She wasn’t pretty anyways! We did her a favor. I think you all deserve someone much prettier than her.” Another one of them said walking up to David.

The girls tried to touch David’s chest, but before she could he grabbed her by the wrist. “I think you all need a taste of your own medicine.” He said before completely transforming into his vampire face. The girl gasped and started to scream. David’s grip was too strong, so she couldn’t run away. Dwayne and Paul grabbed the two girls that tried to run away, and Marko grabbed the last girl and pushed her to the ground. He pinned her to the floor with his foot on her back, and he grabbed her by the hair so she’d face up. Marko called you over to him still holding the girl down. By this point all the boys were transformed, making all the girls whimper and cry.

Marko pulled the girls hair hard making her cry out of pain. “I want you to apologize to y/n, and don’t give some sorry ass apology.”

“I-I’m sorry!” She yelled with tears of fear and pain running down her face. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry y/n!”

“You’re sorry for what?!” Marko said pulling her hair again.

“I’m sorry for dumping bleach on you y/n!” She whimpered. “I’m so sorry!”

You didn’t respond to her. You wanted to feel bad for her, but you couldn’t. Actually, you felt the exact opposite. You enjoyed seeing the tears run down her face. It reminded you of all the times she made you cry. In a way, it was satisfying. In a sick twisted way, it gave you pleasure. You wanted them to suffer more. They had been making you suffer for too long, and now it was time for it to end. They were messing with the wrong girl.

“Kill them.” You said out of nowhere. The boys all turned to you. They definitely didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth.

“What?” Paul asked a bit shocked.

“Kill them.” You repeated. That was enough clarification for the boys. They started to dig in. Biting and ripping through the girls skin making them scream and sob. Instead of turning away, you decided to watch. You watched as the boys tore off the girls limbs and fingers. You listened to their screams. It didn’t scare you like it would terrify a regular person. You watched as if you were watching a cartoon on tv. The screaming didnt stop. Their faces off terror didn’t go away. It all made you happy. Those girls were getting what they deserved. Their yelps and screams were like music to your ears. Their begging and pleading made you wanna laugh. They shoudve watched what they said about you, because it came back and bit them in the ass. Literally.

The screaming soon came to a stop, and all you could hear was the wind blowing. They were dead. Their blood was all over the floor and some on the boys. You watched as the boys threw the remains of the girls into the fire. You never thought you’d be watching your worst enemies get slaughtered in front of you, and it was worth the watch. They had it coming, and now they are gone. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t feel guilty at all. For the first time in years, you could go to school without worrying about these horrible girls picking on you. Now they were nothing. You were free from those girls. Their deaths brought a smile to your face. You never had to hear their nasty words again. Now, they’re just faces on missing posters.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Waterfall Memories by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 7/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx

Chapters titles are based on the lyrics from “Stubborn Love” by The Lumineers

Chapter 7: I Never Trusted My Own Eyes

The days came and went in a blur, busying themselves with mundane chores and simple meals spent dining by candlelight. Killian would tell her tales of the sea, his time as a Lieutenant in the Navy. Sometimes he would sing her a song, a soft melody that would make her heart flutter and her heart ache for a future with him. Each day the moisture would recede into the dirt, drying the roads and carrying them closer to the end of whatever it was they were doing.

And yet with each morning, there would be another excuse as to why it wasn’t a good idea for him to drive into town. Sometimes he would determine that the roads out of the forest were probably still too wet, other times she would tell him she felt too ill to be left alone. But they knew that eventually they would both run out of excuses. She could see it in his eyes each time he lied or made up a reason to stay. She knew they were living on borrowed time. Making memories that would soon be just that.

A memory of the past.

She was sure she would never forget the care he took with her or the way he pleasured her in their bed, his body claiming hers as she sang his name every night. For she was his. At least for the moment.

She’s sure the look of disappointment is heavy in her eyes when he announces suddenly that today is the day he needs to go to town. They are low on supplies since he had only purchased enough for one person. Feeding two of them had quickly eliminated his stock. He kissed her forehead, not making eye contact as he climbed into the truck, pulling away from the cabin before she could run out and beg him to stay. They had run out of time.

~*~

Killian didn’t look back as he pulled away from the cabin, leaving her behind. He knew if he saw her standing there in the doorway he would turn around and never leave her. He needed to do this, for her. He needed to find her home, where she belonged, who she belonged to.

They always knew this was temporary.

The roads were more than dry, he was aware he had delayed for many days, knowing that she had done the same. She was quick to make an excuse to keep him there, with her. But when he woke up, her fingers tangled in his chest hair, her blonde locks across his neck, his heart told him that he couldn’t delay any longer. She needed to go before he gave into his darkness and refused to allow her to leave. She wouldn’t become his hostage and he wouldn’t allow her to choose to live in his prison.

He reached the town, pulling into the parking spot in front of the store he frequented. He would go in, purchase his supplies, listen for any buzz about a missing woman, and if there was nothing, he would return home knowing that he tried. If nothing were to come of his trip, then maybe it was fate that she was to stay another month.

Gathering his supplies, he kept his head to the ground, not making eye contact with anyone in the store. He listened as they talked about their day, apparently a deer had caused some havoc at the town hall, stomping rose bushes and eating the honeysuckle trees. It was strange hearing such normal life going on around him, realizing that he had been enjoying his own mundane life back at the cabin with her. He approached the register, smiling at the woman who knew him as Rogers.

“You’re back sooner than usual.”

He nodded, “Aye, figured with the storm it was a good idea to stock up.”

“That was a big one. Glad the rains have finally stopped, maybe now they can resume that search.”

Killian’s heart stopped. “What are they searching for?”

“Some rich guy’s fiancé disappeared up here a few weeks ago. They dragged the lake but haven’t found her yet and then the storm hit. Been stuck for days just waiting it out. The whole family’s been holed up in the motel at the end of town. Sad. She’s probably dead.” She whispered at the end.

“Who’s the lass?” He questioned, trying to control the pitch of his voice. “The one who’s missing? You know in case I see anything near me.”

She pointed to the door, “Emma Nolan. Her pictures posted outside on the window.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open.” He said as he passed the money to the woman and gathered his bags. He tentatively approached the window, hoping that the picture was some other woman, not his Swan. But the moment he saw the flier, the blonde hair displayed with the large smile on her face, he knew it was her.

Emma Nolan, fiancé to Walsh Oz. She was getting married. The man in the photo stared back at him in a three-piece suit. He looked stuffy and obnoxious, and not the kind of man he imagined his Swan being in love with. He tried to feel shame for taking this man’s beloved, but in the moments when he was inside her, when she was staring at him like he was the most amazing man in the world, she was his Swan. Not this Nolan woman.

“Sad tale.” He jumped at the voice behind him, turning to see the Sheriff approaching him. “Beautiful woman on a weekend trip with friends falls over the old waterfall and disappears without a trace.”

“I heard.” He offered flatly. “Sad indeed.”

“You wouldn’t have seen anything down your way, would you? We haven’t been able to reach your neck of the woods due to the storm. Perhaps you’ve noticed something?”

“Wish I could say I had.” He lied. “But I’ll keep my eyes opened.”

“It would be a shame if that woman’s family didn’t get her home to marry her husband. He has a lot of money he’s paying this town to find her. I’m sure she comes with a hefty reward.”

“As I said, I’ll keep my eyes opened.”

The Sheriff turned away from him, “We’ll be by your place soon, for the search.” He warned and Killian sighed. Time’s up.

He ripped the flyer off the window, pocketing it as he returned to his truck. Depositing his groceries in the back he climbed into the front seat and pulled the flyer from his pocket. “Dammit.” He cursed. The photo of her was a happy one. She appeared to be out for the evening, a bright smile across her face. The photo of her parents portrayed a loving couple, who were most likely going mad without their daughter.

One good deed, he thought.

~*~

Emma swore she wasn’t checking the road when she passed the window. She told herself she wasn’t waiting anxiously for him to return home. But she knew she was. She wanted to know what he had found, hoping that his search was fruitless, and he would return to tell her that they would search again in a month. She wanted nothing more than to stay here in their happy little fairytale. She didn’t need to know who she was. She was happy here. She could be happy here.

She knew it was her fear of the unknown. What if she had a life that wasn’t all she had wished for. He had found her in some trashy lingerie, naked and alone. Not knowing, not being able to piece together the puzzle was frustrating to her, it was part of the reason she gave up trying to remember. It made her angry to be so close to seeing a vision of her past only to have it disappear in a haze of nothing.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know her name. She had come up with all kinds of names for herself. She thought she might be happy being called Evelyn or Elizabeth. Maybe she’d even learn to love her new name more than whatever her own was.

She heard the truck door slam shut and she hopped to the window, watching as Killian gathered the bags from the back of the truck. He had a frown on his face which gave her pause. When he opened the door, she stared at him anxiously. “How was town?”

“I found everything on the list.” He said, ignoring her question. He set the bags on the table, and she walked over to them, taking things out to help him put them away. She reached in and pulled out the bread and a handful of cheese slices packed in a plastic sleeve. He knew how much she loved grilled cheese. She found additional cocoa and a packet of cinnamon at the bottom of the bag; she couldn’t stop the smile from creeping on her face.

“I was thinking I’d make grilled cheese for lunch.” He said softly.

“That sounds lovely.” She felt like skipping to the cold box to store the food but stopped when he spoke.

“Emma…” She turned to face him, unsure why the name fell from his lips.

“Excuse me?” She asked confused.

“Emma Nolan.” He said as he shoulders slumped. “That’s your name.”

“Of course, it’s not. I don’t recognize it at all.” She turned back to the food, depositing the items in their places.

“Well, it is. I’ve seen the photo.”

“Well, I don’t care, I don’t know that name, so you’re wrong.” She was agitated, angry at him for not listening to her.

He fished into his pocket, yanking a crumpled paper out of his pants, and unraveling it near her face. “That’s you. Emma Nolan. And that’s your parents, David and Mary Margaret.” He paused. “This is your fiancé, Walsh Oz.”

She tore the paper from his hands. “Walsh Oz, what a ridiculous name, there is no way I would marry someone with the last name Oz, it’s too…” She shook her head staring at the photos in front of her. She didn’t recognize the people on the flyer, only her face. The people who were supposed to be her parents might as well have been anyone else on the planet. Imposters. The man, Walsh, she was sure there was no way she would marry a man who looked like that. This wasn’t her life, it couldn’t be. She tossed the paper onto the table.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t care what that says.” The tears welled up in her eyes and she hopped to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, and throwing herself on the bed.

“Swan, I’m coming in.” His voice was shaky, uneven, almost like he was ready to break as much as she had. The door opened and she looked up from the bed.

“Don’t call me Emma.” She warned.

“Fine. But we need to talk.” He sat on the bed, taking her hand. “I called them.”

“What?” She yelled, yanking her hand away from him. “Why? Why would you do that without talking to me?”

“Em…Love, they are your parents. They have a right to know that you aren’t dead. They were very worried about you.”

“It wasn’t your decision.” She cried.

“You were on a trip. A lovely trip with your best friends, I believe it was a girl’s trip before your wedding. You were supposed to have gotten married the weekend you disappeared.”

“Emma Oz.” She blurted out. “It’s preposterous.”

He reached for her hand again. “I told them I would bring you to them this evening. Once I had the chance to talk to you, to prepare you. They know you don’t have your memories.”

“I don’t want to go.” She cried, leaning into his neck, and sobbing against his collar. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Emma, I wish to tell you something. Something that I believe will help your decision to return to where you belong.”

~*~

She sat up, staring into his uneasy blue eyes, he wiped the tears from the corner of her lids, kissing her forehead before turning away from her. “I’ve told you that I have done things in my life that I’m not proud of. I was not a good man, Emma.” He gulped. “Years ago, after I left the Navy, I found myself struggling to make ends meet for my wife and baby daughter, Alice. We were living in a bad neighborhood, Milah was getting hassled by some of our neighbors, men who were not the sort who backed down when confronted.” He stood up from the bed, pacing in front of the window.

“My brother always told me I was stubborn, that I didn’t listen to reason. He was right of course, and because of that, because I didn’t listen to him, I lost everything.”

“The explosion?”

“It was more than that. I bought a gun, I stood up to these men, told them to leave the neighborhood. They did for a time. And then I met a man, Neal Cassidy. His father was the head of the Gold Mafia. He had heard about the stand I took with the men in our apartment. They were from a rival gang that his father was looking to snuff out. He offered me some jobs. His father paid me well. It started off simple, a few snatch and grab’s, small time theft. But I didn’t realize that the further I went, the more I was getting into the dirty side of their business.”

He felt his chest contracting with each word. Afraid to carry on but knowing that she needed to hear the truth, she needed to understand why it was better for her to go. To get as far away from him as possible.

“I tried to get out, God knows Milah begged me. But I was suddenly bringing in money, I was able to provide for my family and it felt good to be that man. Then Gold picked me to go on a job with his son. No one was supposed to get hurt. That was my rule, I would take things, but I never hurt people. But Neal, he operated differently. He didn’t let anyone get in his way. And on this night, someone fought back, they wouldn’t give up the treasure we had come to seek. I walked away, but Neal, he shot the man.”

“Oh my God.” Emma’s hand went to her mouth, and he turned away from her before he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

“The man died; he was supposed to be alone. Neal told me he had no one with him. The boy came out of his bedroom, he couldn’t have been older than 6. He was crying, calling for his father. I told Neal we needed to leave, but he said we couldn’t leave any witnesses. The moment he pointed his gun at that boy’s head, something inside me snapped. I shot Neal.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” She said, her voice wavering.

“I killed him, Emma. In cold blood. I murdered Neal Cassidy and left him there. I called 9-1-1 and ran.”

“What does this have to do with the explosion?”

“When Gold found out about Neal, he knew I was the one on the job with him. It didn’t take long for his goons to find me, they roughed me up, wanted me to admit I was the one who killed Neal. I refused. And then Gold threatened my family.”

“Oh Killian.”

“I thought if I talked that he’d just kill me and move on. But instead, he wanted me to suffer.” He bowed his head. “He followed my brother one evening, shot him in the head and left him in an alley to bleed out. He called me on the phone, told me that I still had time to save him. I raced to the location, even found him, he was dying, unconscious. When my phone rang, I heard his voice. He was laughing, he told me that I would feel the same pain he did. My blood ran cold, as soon as the ambulance arrived, I raced home only to find the cops waiting, fire burning outside my building. They were already gone.”

He leaned against the wall, daring to glance at her. “I turned state’s evidence on Gold. In exchange for my testimony, I only had to serve a 5-year sentence and I then was free.”

She stood up and walked toward him. “Killian, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t give me your pity. I don’t deserve your sorrow. I deserve what happened to me. But you don’t deserve to be trapped in my pain. You have a home, a life. You look happy in that photo. You’ll find that again. Once you go back, you’ll remember who you are.”

“I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to be this Emma Nolan or Oz or whatever they expect me to be. I’m not her. I want to be with you.”

He sighed, pulling her into his arms. “Swan. You can’t stay. You don’t belong here.”

“You don’t want me.” She sobbed and his heart broke.

“Look at me.” He hooked his finger under her chin, pulling her tear-soaked face toward him. “I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, of my Milah... to believe that I could find someone else... that is, until I met you.” He kissed the bridge of her nose, peppering soft touches across her cheek until he brushed against her lips, kissing her mouth. He felt his knees threatening to buckle under him, the weight of the moment pulling him under. “But alas, it was but a dream. And with all dreams, you have to wake up.” He whispered.

“I don’t even know them.”

“But you will.”

“You’ll go with me?”

“Aye.” He said sadly, reveling in the fact that she needed him with her, but knowing he would have to leave her all the same. He pulled away from her, walking to the dresser to pull out new clothes for her to wear. Setting them on the bed and patting them with his hand. “You can keep these until you get something more acceptable that fit you.”

He tried to smile in her direction as his heart broke into a million pieces.

“For the record, you’re still my hero. I don’t care how much you want me to believe otherwise, what you did is your past, and I am going to choose to see the good in you.” She took her clothes and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her as he dropped to his knees and cried.

[petitelepus]

Hello lovely! Could I get a dead by daylight matchup? Could you match me with a killer please, thank you 🥺

I’m non-binary with they/them pronouns <3 I’m pansexual with a preference for males 👉👈

Appearance: I’m 5’6, slightly fluffy right now, but overall strong. I have icy blue eyes, short fluffy hair (originally my hair is dirty blonde/ ginger, but I dye it crazy colours constantly) right now its white & brown. My hairstyle looks very much like Quentin Smith’s. I’m extremely pale, I practically glow in the sunlight. I have a birthmark in the middle of my cheek, and smile lines. My lips are naturally very full and rosy, but my smile is odd and literally goes “w” 😭 I have birthmarks all over actually nvhchfb shh-

Fashion: I wear darker clothes, mostly with a red and black aesthetic. My usual shoes are my black, lace-up doc martens, accompanied with black high waisted jeans and a t-shirt with a design on it or a button-up shirt. I’ll change my style depending on my mood really. My other favourite outfit is of course my boots and jeans then a fluffy lighter coloured sweater like pastel yellow or periwinkle. I’ll wear outfits inspired by characters occasionally!

Hobbies: I enjoy skateboarding, hikes, swimming, reading, listening to music, singing (I’ve been told I’m good at it?), writing, cooking, watching horror movies, videogaming, and doing photography! I spend most of my time with my pets! A dog, cat, and two lizards :D

I’ll sometimes write notes on human anatomy/psychology since I’m a forensics student and its my main interest :)

Personality: I’m naturally very quiet and tend to be shy around strangers. I’m a very caring person, if I see someone get hurt my first instinct will be to see if they’re ok. I’m also very loyal, I’ll be there for my friends and people I love no matter what. I’m very creative, I occupy myself with artistic hobbies and problems are usually easy for me to work through because of it. I can empathise with people quite easily, thats how I make friends very quick! I’m very observant, I find it simple to figure out people’s personalities quickly. Finding someone’s true intentions is never an issue. I’m very polite, even if I don’t find someone particularly pleasing, I won’t be rude to them. Don’t let my outside personality fool you.. I’m quite silly and love to joke around and tease friends! I “revert to being a five year old” once in a while and will get very loud, puppy-like energy. (Sometimes I’ll grab onto my friend’s arms and hide behind them when i’m like this lol). I’ll blabber on for hours about random things and get distracted by a dog or other animal and then have to talk about that hfhfhfb. I’m generally just friendly and will make friends easily.. I’m the one to make friends with the kid who no one talks to 👉👈

The downfalls to my personality? I have horrible social anxiety and have panic attacks around large crowds. Sometimes if I feel like i’m annoying or a bother I become very distant/quiet. I’m very clingy and get distressed if my friends seemingly “ignore me”. I’m super touch starved and will literally beg for hugs or attention from my friends. I can also get a bit temperamental if I get overworked or stressed. I try not to snap at people, and friends know to leave me alone for a bit. (Hugs or tea will fix this issue)

Likes: Animals, music, art, true crime, horror, psychological horror, books, Victorian era styling, Halloween, sweets, sweaters, cuddles!, affection, rain, fall, naps, warm tea, the outdoors, plushies, and wacky earrings.

Dislikes: Hot weather, rude people, being alone for long periods of time, being misunderstood, spicy things, and deep murky waters (other than a pool).

Weird facts: I can name any dog’s breed if you show me a picture :D! I speak Italian. Uhm I squeak when I’m excited lol. I am extremely flexible, and have accidentally scared people like that…

Thats all! Thank you so much and I hope you have a lovely day! <3

I match you with Frank, Julie, Susie, and Joey aka Legion!

Your attire caught Julie's and Susie's attention. You obviously had good taste, and they could tell by how you took care of your hair also. Not to mention, your smile was SO cute, but they couldn't just go and suggest to the guys that they should all secure you merely by your style.

Little did the girls know, the guys had taken notice of your interests. Not only are you cute when you act all shy, but Frank sees potential in you when you rush to save David from the hook and you manage to lift the huge man and patch his shoulder. Joey appreciates the loyalty you show.

You emphasize four of them. Frank how badly he was usually treated in foster homes. Joey came from a rich family but wanted to be a person of his own and not just the heir of a rich family. Julie wanted freedom and a bigger more meaningful life while Susie just wanted the gang to stick together and always be friends.

You see past their walls, lies, and sweet talk so it's hard for Frank to manipulate you, but the rest of the gang just suggests that they should all be honest with you. So when they approach you and ask if you would be interested to be with them, you blink before blushing and asking if you could learn to know them first. Which is totally okay with them.

You're shy, they get it and they do their best not to alarm you. Julie and Susie told the guys to be more sensitive around you, but the young men just laughed and told the girls that you are tougher than you let them see.

These four Killers absolutely LOVE IT when you cling to them in fear or out of shyness. They feel like you trust them.

Frank and Susie are huge dog fans. Frank likes how loyal they and he bonded with this misunderstood Pitbull in one of his foster families. Sadly, he had to move to another home and leave the dog he bonded with behind. Susie loves cute dogs, but her taste is a little funny. Not everyone thinks Bull Terriers are that cute as she says they are.

They love watching old horror movies with you, because you tend to analyze the killers or ghosts or demons and it's honestly fun for them to hear your take on things.