#filed under no one cares or should care but anyway | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepn0tfound · 2 months ago

Text

That's MY Daughter

DC x Fem!Neglected!Batsis! Reader x Marvel [Just some midnight thoughts]

Bruce and Tim realised something odd about Stark Industries. Ever since a few months ago the technology being produced there had improved by an unbelievable amount. It was futuristic, nothing that this world has seen before. And the weirdest part of it is the fact that Tony Stark had offered to partner up with Wayne Enterprises. THE Tony Stark, Iron Man, the most egotisical man they knew had willingly offered to partner up with them? After years of being petty with Bruce and the JL?

Tim had been made to prepare to become the new CEO soon, thus he recently started taking up more work at Wayne Enterprises when the agreement was made. Though instead of Tony being the one to talk about ideas it was an unknown woman communicating with him about the ideas, the product, the marketing, etc. And the merge of the two companies was an absolute success, the marketing especially drawing in young adults. (courtesy of Tim and the mysterious women who seems to be around the same age as him)

Who was the mysterious women though? Well both Bruce and Tim could only come to one solution. The least known character to Bruce, to Batman, which says a lot considering the fact that he had made a contingency plan for every Avenger, every hero, including his own teammates, including himself, yet this one character was completely unknown, zero plans if she were to go rogue. And that drove Bruce crazy. Her file was blank. Every vital information was marked with the word 'unknown'. It had been making Bruce paranoid for years since she had appeared next to the Avengers.

The reassurance from the Avengers never helped. It was as if something was gnawing at him. After all how could he trust them anyways? (careful Bruce your trust issues are showing)

One of the only things they knew about her is that she is the main hacker/coder for the Avengers, hence the reason why the Avengers digital security was admittedly better than the Justice League's and how much faster they got, what should be, classified information. (no matter how much Bruce wants to deny it)

And her codename, Special Agent Reaper. No she wasn't originally an Avenger, she was crowned the most skilled assassin of this era, working under S.H.I.E.L.D and one of the sole reasons why all of the HYDRA agents that have sneaked into S.H.I.E.L.D have been successfully taken out, her name would pass by in the wind every so often, they might be rumours or the truth but no one truly knows. Hell even Ra's Al Ghul, The Demon’s Head, had acknowledged her once. Even Talia had admitted that Damian's fighting technique was made to mirror The Reaper's, the only difference is he used katanas while the Reaper, fittingly, uses a scythe.

But one thing was for sure. If you saw the shadow of a hooded figure you better run, though at that point it might be too late.

As the saying goes, "Beware of the Grim Reaper. Wherever it goes death follows closely behind.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“Ah! Brucie! Here you are!” Tony said, wine in hand as he approached Bruce at the gala. Well that was a first. He usually never played into the Brucie persona. Well nonetheless the show must go on.

“Tony!” Bruce threw himself at the other billionaire, acting as if he was drunk, ignoring the way Tony’s expression turned into a grimace for a split second.

As usual, they were both around other pretentious socialites who never seemed to run out of questions.

“Ah! Tony, I heard Stark Industries have been bringing in more money than ever.”

“Oh yes! It’s all because of this prodigy i had found. She actually was the reason why Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises had a collab. I might even give the company to her when I retire!" He let out a laugh that seems to emanate the word 'rich', a small smirk stayed on his lips as he heard the guests at the gala begin to whisper.

"Oh? Is that so? Then I would love to meet the person I have been working with this entire time." Tim Drake-Wayne said as he finally came out of the corner where he would usually stay in to observe rather than interact.

"Be my guest." A subtle challenge, as if Tony was daring him to go through with it as they locked eyes. A smirk on one face while a well practiced smile on the other.

Bruce let out a light hearted laugh as he tightened his grip around Tony, a subtle warning to stay away from his son, "Well then I wouldn't mind arranging a meeting! I'm sure you wouldn't mind the others joining." His tone had a slight change that even the most observant wouldn't realise.

Bruce could barely keep up the 'Brucie' act with Tony bragging about how Stark Enterprises profits have shot up with him finding a 'prodigy' and someone who will take over the company once he retires.

"Not at all. The more the merrier. I assume you wouldn't mind me inviting more people as well." Tony sipped his wine, he wasn't one to back out from a challenge, especially when he is so confident.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

This certainly wasn't how the Justice League and the Avengers expected their next meeting to happen. A petty fight between the two men that singlehandedly funds their respective teams causing all of them to be in one room together.

"Well then, Stark. Where is this prodigy that you speak so highly of?" Bruce said as he sported his famous batglare.

"I assure you she is on her way. She should just be right about done with her mission." Tony replied with the same tone, shooting a glare as well.

Meanwhile the two teams were watching this as if it was the most entertaining show they have seen.

"Hey I'm here." Y/n entered the hall, still wearing her assassin suit, though her signature black hood was down, revealing her face.

Silence seemed to engulf the room.

"Kid... Your hood."

"...Fuck."

hi! i might have disappeared for a month :D To those who are waiting for more parts of DC x Super/Kent!Reader it will come... eventually. I'm having the biggest writer's block for that specific AU so uhm yeah! I wasn't really planning on making that AU a series since it was mostly just me being bored and writing for the lols but since it received so much attention [thank you guys so much!] I have to do it now. i was doing some worldbuilding and already know how I want the reader to be and allat but I cant really think of how to shape the story ukukuk. so yeah stay tuned for that! also this thing was also just a blurb. Might make somewhat of continuation parts if I feel like it. [Also the neglected!batsis! fanfics I've been reading is getting to me. i have a feral urge to create a diff AU series for that] Also would you guys be interested in me creating a twitter/insta account or like a tele channel to post random things

2K notes · View notes

camradacheri · 6 days ago

Text

it’s flu season, baby!! and everybody’s sick!!!!

riddle: realized what was coming for him and locked in. his brain has information alphabetically arranged in filing cabinets. he’s opening the “common illness” drawer, getting his ass in bed, and quarantining. he has already requested the classwork ahead of time to stay up to date on his studies. he has created a strict schedule of hydrate, study, sleep, repeat. oh, but you wanted to check on him? NO!! HE’S CONTAGIOUS!!! you’re arguing through his door that it’s okay for you to come in for a second and give him some cough drops and tea and he’s truly touched that you care so much, believe that, but he’s arguing right back that you’re not from this world and this simple flu could be the end of you if you got it. IN FACT!! YOU!!! SHOULD QUARANTINE!!! now he’s texting trey to get your ass back to ramshackle.

8/10 patient, too independent and he won’t let you love him, puts you in sick jail 💔

leona: does not care if he gets you sick. well he cares, but figures he can double down on excuses to not do his work. “can’t go to class this week, i’m sick.” oh, he’s better now? he can go? what kind of upperclassman would he be if he left a poor, sick little herbivore like yourself all alone after you took care of him all week?after all, he’s the one that got you sick 🥺 yeah, he’s full of shit. you came to check his temperature and give him his medicine and he dragged your ass into his germ ridden bed and nuzzled his sweaty head into your stomach insisting he doesn’t need to take any medicine and that sleep will heal him.

4/10 patient, cuddles but they’re cold sweat cuddles and he coughed on your neck and got you sick too 😑

azul: sickness is weakness, weakness is vulnerability, vulnerability is what enemies use to take you down!!! he realized something is amiss health wise when his body did this weird thing where his lung tried to come out of his nose and he convulsed??? he’s read about this before?? he just… sneezed? calmly and quickly collects his upcoming coursework and hauls ass to his office and locks himself in there-no one will see him like this. you’re looking around all doe-eyed for him when jade and floyd, who have been told not to tell you where he is, tell you where he is and you walk in the door and he is just face down collapsed on the desk. you hurry over and put your hand on his forehead and one thing is clear to you, azul has the suds. he tries so hard to brush off your help but he’s so feverish, he’s not even making sense “what would you do if when you okay so he said yes would go?” what the hell is he talking about. he wakes up 2 days later to you gazing at him with a gentle smile while wiping his forehead with a cold cloth. he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven before all the memories come rushing back to him and he realizes he needs to get you to sign an NDA ASAP!!!!

9/10 patient, perfectly entertaining and behaved but is currently drafting ways to get you back under his thumb so -1 pt for his suspicion of you

kalim: OFFICER!!! IT’S HIM 🫵!!!! singlehandedly took down half the school by throwing a party aka SUPERSPREADER EVENT in the middle of flu season!!! he did not consider that aspect at all, he just wanted to celebrate scarabia student B’s birthday…bless his heart. anyways, kalim is sick, so is the rest of the dorm. you get a text from jamil that he needs you to “babysit kalim” for a few hours while he makes sure the dorm is taken care of. how hard can this be? he’s sick, he won’t want to do much. WRONG! kalim is one of those sick people who won’t rest!!! he has too much emotional energy and it’s overriding his physical needs!!!! he’s fatigued but he’s fighting through it to tell you the names of all his childhood pet birds! he’s dizzy but he’s still getting up to show you this cool new dance move he learned at the superspreader party! you have to beg him to show you it later because you’re almost 100% sure he’s gonna yak if he does it. you have to forcibly tuck him into bed and lay on top of him to make sure he does not get up again.

3/10 patient, ray of sunshine but was exhausting to deal with and gets you sick because you had to manhandle him 😷

vil: quarantines immediately. not just for the safety of others, but because no one will see him like this. the thought of someone seeing him when he has a feverish sheen across his face or hearing him choking to death sends chills up his spine. he texts his team to clear his schedule and he disappears from the timeline for 3 days. but you haven’t seen vil all day and that’s not gonna work for you. so imagine his horror when he hears a soft knock on his door followed by “vil? are you alright? epel told me you weren’t feeling too good 🥺”and it’s YOU!!! he sits up immediately, his hair on end, you’d think the girl from the ring was clawing at this door but no it’s just you, the tender hearted prefect who brought him vegetable soup and eye masks. he clears his throat “i’m a bit under the weather at the moment, prefect. nothing i can’t handle. i appreciate your concern, but you can leave now 😊” and successfully sends you away. or NOT! he hears shuffling outside his door and what sounds like you SITTING DOWN??? “it’s okay, vil! i’ll visit you from out here, so you don’t get lonely!” you’ve got to be kidding.

8/10 patient, complains about you continuously sitting outside his door for 3 days but doesn’t have rook throw you out because he secretly enjoys your company 🫶

idia: i know what you’re wondering. how did idia get sick? he never leaves his room? exactly!! HE HAS NO IMMUNE SYSTEM BUILT UP!!! THESE FLU STRAINS ARE FOREIGN TO HIS BODY!!! someone sneezed on his tablet and when it floated back to him to charge, the plague went off in ignihyde! anyways, acts like he’s dying. you go to his room at ortho’s request and open the door and you can’t even see him. is he even in here? wait if you look closely you can see that blanket moving. oh wait! it’s idia! he hasn’t moved in a day. it’s the saddest sight you’ve ever seen. “idia? …do you need some help?” “yes…go do my dailies for me.” you and ortho work in tandem to take care of him for a week, but there honestly isn’t much to do because he doesn’t get up the entire time.

10/10 patient, slept the entire time, stutters out a thank you when he’s better 👍

malleus: i realistically cannot see malleus getting sick. i feel like he would just dodge the flu particles mid-air?? idk maybe he gets a sinus infection from breathing in all that dust from his little abandoned building and gargoyle expeditions. okay, so he has a sinus infection. it’s not uncommon for you to not see him super often throughout the day, so you don’t know until lilia pops by and lets you know that tsunotarou is ill :( you go to visit him at diasomnia with some nasal spray and ice cream and he’s just posted up in bed sniffling in his jammies with this look on his face -> 🥺 it’s already the cutest sight you’ve ever seen but then it gets even cuter because he is so happy that you came to visit him he can’t help but smile! now he’s like this -> 🥹 lets you take care of him and make him sleepytime tea. he also watches all your favorite movies with you and thanks you for caring for him in his “days of ailment” ???

1000/10 patient, lets you help him, is adorable

458 notes · View notes

g4rvez-r3id · 2 months ago

Text

Naughty Boy

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Unit Chief! Fem Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer are trying to have a little fun in secret until Emily walks in… Spencer decides to make it a little more interesting underneath your desk.

Category: Smut

Warnings: established relationship, power dynamics, reader and spencer keep their relationship private so it’s a bit of forbidden love trope, kissing, smut warnings: lowkey sub!spencer, and also lowkey perv!spencer, spencer has a boner, straddling, stroking, cunnilingus, getting caught, exhibitionist kink? fingering, cumming in pants, use of ‘sweet boy’, ‘good boy’ and ‘naughty boy’, spencer lowkey pathetic- idk that should cover it

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! lowkey this one kinda sucked but i wanted to write a smut oneshot 🤭 got this idea watching a sitcom lmao anyways post prison sub spencer supremacy 🛐 debating on writing a part two to this one where reader punishes spencer hehehe let me know! please enjoy this one!! <3

A lot of changes happened since you’d become unit chief of the BAU. It wasn’t your intention of becoming unit chief but Emily Prentiss believed otherwise. She passed down the tassel to you since you’d had so much experience on this team for years. And she also knew Hotch would’ve wanted it, too.

After Barnes tried to take the BAU down, Emily was given back her job and hiring authority. Feeling as if you’d earned the spot, she promoted you. Of course, you were a little anxious taking charge at first but Emily assured she’d stay every step of the way and even offered to take over when you felt the power to be a bit too much.

You and Spencer’s relationship had become more balanced since he got back from prison and you felt the need to keep your relationship under wraps for as long as possible. Nobody knew you two were together, you both were very careful when it came to your relationship. You’d only been dating for a year and a half since he got back from prison where he’d finally confessed his undying love for you and that he’d show you just how much he loved you when he got out.

You’d both been pining after each other for years before the fact. And since then every moment you’d shared together has been wonderful, despite keeping it hidden from your colleagues. It was for the better, especially now that you were a higher power. If it wasn’t strictly forbidden before, it definitely was now that you were unit chief.

You were lucky that you’d chosen someone that was usually good at keeping secrets. You both never arrived to work together, you both left work at separate times and only ever spoke in a professional manner to one another. Of course, nothing too far as to not speaking to each other entirely. You were surprised that no one had suspected a thing for the year and a half you’d been together.

Today, you were in your office, filing everyone’s paperwork and signing off on them one by one. You’d just finished JJ’s when there was a knock on your door. “Come in.” You spoke and behind the door had been your loving and doting boyfriend.

“This a bad time?” Spencer asked as he waited for your okay to come in. “No, no, not at all. Come in.” You smile and turn towards your already closed blinds. If you hadn’t already closed them, it definitely would’ve looked suspicious if you closed them now.

As soon as he shut your door, you stood up from your seat with a sly smirk and walk over to him. “So, what can I do you for?” You ask. “Oh, nothing, I just—” Spencer rests his hands on your hips. “I just missed you.”

You smile as you hold him close. It’d been a minute since you had a moment together. Cases were often disrupting already what little time you two had together.

“I missed you too, my love.” You say, looking into his eyes with a loving smile. “Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight? I’m working on the paperwork now so I won’t have to stay here too late tonight.” You suggest and he smile right back at you. “I’d like that. We could use a date night.”

You pull him closer to kiss you on your lips and as you pull him flush against your body, you feel it. It’s definitely unmistakable that he’s hard in his pants.

“Uh, baby?” You ask, pushing him a bit. “Yeah?” He asks as he leans his head down towards his collarbone. “Are you… hard just from a few kisses?” This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten an erection just from a few simple kisses from you. He pretty much gets turned on by anything you do. And you secretly love it.

“I can’t help it, Spencer admits into your neck. “You’re gorgeous.”

You blush at his words and smile, “Aw, thank you, my love.” His mouth stays on your neck, sucking on your pulse point. You pull him towards your chair and push him into it, getting on top of him and straddling him with a smirk etched on your face as you lean down and kiss him on his lips.

He tries to speak into the kiss, pushing you away for a brief moment. “Wait, wait, wait.” He says and you look down at him, your index finger tapping on his plump pink lips, staring down at them. You had a bit of an oral fixation when it came to Spencer Reid. Whether it was for yourself or for him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. “I just don’t want us to get caught, that’s all.” Spencer stated and you smile, “I know, sweet boy. But you let me worry about that, okay? Right now, I just want to take care of my boy.”

You run your hand towards the front of his slacks and palm his hard cock through his pants. He moans a little too loud and you are quick to clasp your free hand over his mouth. “If we want to this to work, you’re gonna need to be a good boy and be quiet, okay?” He nods vehemently into your palm.

You stroke him a few more times through his pants and you check and see that your sweet boy’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head. You wonder how long you can keep him on the edge, how long you can make this until he’s shouting that he can’t take it anymore, how much he’ll—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You and Spencer look at each other in horror before you quickly usher him underneath your desk and fix yourself up to the best of your ability, sitting in your seat. Surely, you could’ve explained that Spencer was just in here for a moment but you acted quickly and couldn’t risk whoever was coming in to talk to you to see what you two were doing. You two didn’t exactly have the best poker faces in the world.

“Come in.” You say, attempting to sound as normal as you can. The door opens and in walks Emily. “Hey, Y/n. Care if we talk for a moment?”

“Of course, come right in.” Emily nods, shutting the door behind her and sitting in the chair in front of your desk.

As Emily begins to talk with you about your most recent case paperwork and begins on giving you pointers on how to handle it quickly, Spencer is crouched underneath your desk and he has a perfect view up your skirt.

You’re too distracted with Emily being in the room to feel how his hands — his gorgeous hands — glide up and down your calf and they begin to reach in a higher place and you flinch as his nimble fingers touch your underwear.

Your eyes widen as Emily furrows her brows at you and seems to notice you’ve flinched. “Are you alright?” She asks and you nod, “Oh, yeah, super. Just too fidgety today,” You hold up your mug. “Too much coffee.”

Emily continues her advice as you feel Spencer removing your underwear down your thighs. You don’t see how he stuffs them in his pocket. He bunches your skirt to the best of his ability and you look down just for a brief moment to see that he’s become in a trance as he gawks at your wet pussy.

You’re so lucky that your desk is too high up for Emily to see what you two are doing. This is so wrong. You should definitely try and stop him but the fact that he could be caught underneath your desk — it just turns you on even more. Who knew you were such an exhibitionist?

“Another thing that I recommend that you do is—” You hardly listen to Emily as you try your best to give your undivided attention to her but it’s really difficult when the man you love is underneath your table, lapping at your pussy with his useful tongue.

You feel everything as he begins to suck on your clit and sticks his fingers into your hole and you try your best to keep a straight face. You bite your lip and try and keep yourself as hunched over as you can to not draw suspicion.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emily asks, once more. “Uh, yeah,” Your cheeks redden. “I’m… just not feeling very…” You feel as he rolls his tongue in a figure-eight on your bundle of nerves. “Well at the… the moment.”

“If you need to go home, I can take over the rest of the day.” Emily offers and you think about it. You definitely need the time to punish your sweet boy for being needy and impatient, so maybe going home would be a good idea.

“Uh, that’s probably a good idea.” You say. “Why don’t you let the rest of the team know?” Emily nods and leaves the room and you wait for the door to shut to finally gasp and whimper.

As Emily exits the room, she walks away from the door and shudders. Yeah, she knew what the hell was happening. The team pretty much knew you two were together already. You guys didn’t have the best poker faces in the world.

“Oh, you naughty boy.” You back your seat up a bit as you run your hands through his hair. He takes his mouth off of you for a second to breathe. “I like seeing you in an authoritative position. It’s sexy.” With that, he dives back in, running his tongue through your folds again.

You take your hand through his locks, pushing him impossibly deeper into your pussy. “Oh, my God!” You exclaim softly, eyes rolling back as he finishes you off. “Come on, cum for me. Please. Please. Baby, please.” He pleads in your pussy, moaning and sending vibrations through your body as he sticks his fingers back inside.

You bite your lip to contain your moans in your office and you feel yourself gush over his face and look at him, his eyes blown with lust and love. “Did I do good?” Spencer asks, wiping his mouth of your essence and you smirk.

“You did.” You admit. “Now, that Emily’s gone, maybe I should finish what we started.” Spencer looks down and shakes his head, “No, I, uh, actually don’t need help with that anymore.”

You furrow your brows, look down and sure enough, Spencer’s slacks are a shade darker near his crotch. You should’ve expected this, he’d cum at the slightest touch.

“Somebody definitely wants to get punished tonight.” You tease, dragging a finger to his chin and he holds his arms up in surrender. “Hey, sorry I wanted to look good for my boss.”

You shake your head with a chuckle. He can be so impossible sometimes.

So, you tell him to exit the office as discreetly as he can with his blazer over his crotch to hide the evidence and to call in for the rest of the day, making an excuse that there’s a bug going around so you can edge him for hours on end when he gets to your apartment.

#criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x fem!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid blurb #g4rvez-r3id #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds fluff

602 notes · View notes

the-borgias · 1 month ago

Note

Hi, could you please tell me how to do this slanted layout? the-borgias*tumblr*com/post/695485491217334272/one-chicago-appreciation-week-day-one-favorite

Hi, Anon! I'm sorry this took me a few days to answer but I struggled making this tutorial (not because the process itself is difficult but it is difficult to explain it properly.) Anyway, here's the gifset Anon is asking about. I hope this is easy to understand and I also included a .psd file of the layout :)

PSD FILE OF THE GIF ABOVE & TEMPLATE

What you'll need:

Basic Photoshop knowledge (I use Photoshop 2023)

Basic knowledge on how to make layouts (here are a couple of tutorials: x x)

Basic knowledge about layer masks (tutorial)

STEP 1: Make a basic layout

You can do pretty much any layout you want but for the sake of the tutorial I tried to recreate the same template I used in that gifset. I'm assuming you already know how layouts/templates work so I created a 540x540px canvas and went to View > Guides > New guide layout. I used these settings:

And this is how my canvas looked like:

Now I pressed (M) to use the Rectangular Marquee tool and create the rectangles I wanted. This is my end result:

STEP 2: Tilt the layout

This is actually pretty easy. First we're going to select all our layers. I paired mine in groups so they looked like this:

Once we've selected all of them (groups, layers, whatever you're working with) press Ctrl + T. Your canvas should look like this:

And we're going to tilt it by changing the angle to -2.00 in here:

Now our layout is slanted! But as you can see we have transparent spaces we need to fill. I don't know if this is the easier method to do it but I use the Polygonal Lasso tool (L). I'll use the first orange box as an example:

As you can see I use a ridiculously big zoom so I can be as accurate as possible but it's basically impossible to create a perfect box, so this will work. Once we have selected our desired shape we'll use the Brush tool (B) to paint in the layer of our original orange box:

You have to do this with every box so it's a bit tedious but that's the way I did it 🤷‍♀️ This is the end result:

STEP 3: Place the gifs (using Layer Masks)

But now, how do I know which size my gif should be? Our initial measures won't work because our final boxes are bigger so here's what I do. I'll select the Polygonal lasso tool again and make sure I select a little bit more of the box I'm measuring, like this:

It's a little hard to see it but the dots are just a little bit bigger than the orange shape. To be more accurate, my original box was 178x87px and the shape I selected is 174x100px. So I'm going to make a 174x100px gif and place it right above the background, like this:

Now we're going to select the layers of our gif (I'm assuming you're working with a Group because it's easier) and click Ctrl + the orange box. You should see this in your canvas:

And now create a layer mask in your gif group (if you don't know how to do it check out the tutorials I liked at the start of the post.)

Now you can delete the orange box. And, once again, you have to do this with every box and write down the measures (and remember that all your gifs must to have the same number of screencaps!)

I hope y'all don't mind that I didn't create 8 different gifs lmao I was too lazy so I just used a big gif as a background and made 4 small gifs. This my end result:

For the background I merged the remaining boxes and used that to create the layer mask. I'm not going to explain it since I believe it's much easier if you check out the psd file.

And that's pretty much it! It's the same as making a standard layout you just have to be careful with your gif measures. Oh and also see how my gifset shows those white marks between the gifs under a dark background?

Well, that can't be avoided since we aren't working with straight lines (you can see the same effect in the 2nd gif of this set, different layout but also not straight lines) so we'll just ignore them.

I hope this was helpful (I lowkey feel like this tutorial is a mess) and if you have any questions feel free to ask :)

179 notes · View notes

1-800-local-slut · 10 months ago

Text

Word of Advice...

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! Pregnant! BAU! Reader

Spencer Reid Masterlist <3

Spencer and his fiancée are having a baby, and everyone has some advice for them.

I based this on JJ's pregnancy in season 4. This is basically the three times someone gave Spencer some advice about being a dad and his fiancé some advice, I cried writing this because of hormones y'all

Warnings: pregnancy, brief mention of sex, mention of a daddy kink, nothing really, fluff, twins

Request are also open if anyone wants to send anything!

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

"You know, no matter how much you research it won't help when you have to actually hold the baby."

Spencer's head jerked up from his computer, no longer fidgeting with his nails and glanced over to Derek. Tabs upon tabs of information distracted him for the past hour. 'What to do as a first time dad', 'When to Start Expecting Cravings', 'How to Prevent Diaper Rash', 'Baby-proofing 101' and more.

The office buzzed softly behind him, other agents bustling around. It was a cool morning, nice and bright but had all the cold spring air Spencer had grown to love with the early call time of his job. Hotch was up in his office, Rossi was currently in the bathroom attempting to battle some sort of meal his stomach didn't agree with, Emily called in sick, JJ had a doctors appointment and wouldn't be in until later and Penelope was busying herself with some random task.

"Sorry, what?" Derek chuckled, his eyes ran over the mess on Spencer's desk. All of his case files, the parenting books he'd bought, the cups of coffee littering the area. How was this guy gonna keep his house clean with a kid running around in it?

"Morgan is right, even though he should be focused on his work. A word of advice, its good to get into the habit of picking up as you go along. Helps in the long run, you know." Hotch appeared from nowhere, in typical Hotch fashion with words of wisdom.

It was true. Spencer Reid, at the age of 27, got his girlfriend fiancée (he was still getting used to the title) pregnant. He got her pregnant, and then all the initial joy and imaginary world where everything would be perfect everything came slightly faded for him. He suddenly remembered him and his fiancée work a hard job with hard hours and an even harder toll on the mind. But he'd been trying not to focus on that, instead just trying to stay on the constant upside.

"Well yeah. I guess coffee cups all over the place aren't gonna be helpful in trying to keep the place tidy." Spencer chuckled, tapping one of the coffee cups on his desk with a random pen.

"I’ll say. You know your girl isn’t down with the nonsense, you better keep that house spick and span if you want to keep your ass clear of a beating. And if she's gonna be the one stressing with child care it'll be safer is you just stay clean and out the way.” Derek lamented. Hotch chuckled and Spencer glanced down at his hand while he grinned.

While he wouldn’t normally wear his engagement ring to work, they weren’t in the field today (hopefully) and he may have forgotten to taken it off this morning when they decided to stay in bed for an extra 45 minutes to sleep soundly. So what was the harm in wearing it? It was a little bit of his home life he would let seep into his daily life.

"Isn't it a little bit too early for you to be looking at all of this anyways? I mean I guess it's technically never too early but she's only what a month a long?" Derek asked, settling himself to sit on the corner of Spencer's desk.

Derek pushed an empty chip bag out the way, as he had settled on the one clear part of the desk. Spencer instinctively grabbed the bag and tossed it into the small trash bin he kept under his desk.

"It's never too early! I figured the better I prepare, the better I'll be able to help out when I'm home. I want to take as much paternity leave as I can, I want to be helpful when I'm home with her." He really should be attempting to clean. A stack of papers straightened, coffee cups gathered into one hand and tossed into the bin two at a time.

"Word of advice..." Hotch grimaced, as he tapped a coffee cup that sloshed and Spence had to grab to keep it from spilling all over his desk. "If you keep your desk as clean as you intend to keep your house, she'll be sending you back to work faster than you can imagine." With a ghost of a smile, Derek chuckled and ruffled Spencer's hair. Hotch smirked, seeing Spencer's mouth hanging open, and the two decided to take their leave to go back to doing the jobs they get paid so much for.

It was true, Spencer is usually a very clean guy but sometimes things get a bit messy. And usually, his fiancée wouldn't mind as long as it wasn't too outrageous but pretty soon those pregnancy hormones would come in full force. A shiver went down his spine as he imagined facing her anger at him leaving piles of books and coffee mugs all over the living room with a chubby baby sat on her hip. Picking up the last few coffee cups, Spencer straightened up his desk once more and finally tried to focus on work.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

"Morning JJ, you want some coffee?" Of course, I was joking. The joke was that JJ (who had recently returned from her maternity leave) was pleased that she could drink coffee again. If anyone bounced right back from pregnancy it was Jennifer Jareau. She looked flawless, glowing even more after her pregnancy. I can only pray to have that same miraculous recovery.

I couldn't drink coffee, the smell making me sick now. Of course I already couldn't have it, you know growing a baby, but it was far easier to resist the temptation.

A job like this has you running on caffeine, quitting cold turkey was like stopping cigarettes over night. Now I settled for some decaf tea, like peppermint or lemon and ginger.

"So, how's things going for the first term?" JJ chuckled, as I placed my spoon down on the counter and blew on the tea. This morning was some hot apple cider with cinnamon and I had a nice everything bagel on the side with some cream cheese spread over it.

"Well I've had too pee every sixty seconds, my tits are expanding with every second, and everything I eat makes me gain forty pounds thanks to bloating. So, great." The happy mood I had this morning was gone. I got to work and suddenly I wanted to put my fist through the steering wheel. And for some reason, Spencer's aftershave was making me want to cry. He just smelt so good, and he looked so good driving us to work, and lately he's just so handsome. Maybe it's knowing that we were about to have a bundle of joy?

"Mood swings getting you, huh?" JJ chuckled, turning around and heading to her desk as I followed behind.

"I'm ready to stop coming in now, I don't know how you were here up until you gave birth. You literally went into labor, I'm ready to go home now. Right now." I scoffed, and grumbled in irritation. I was even ready to stop wearing heels to work.

It felt like at any moment, I would just explode. That extra 45 minutes of sleep helped very, very little.

"Well, a word of advice, positive self talk is so helpful. I don't know why but when I was pregnant everything Will did drove me up a wall, I'm talking I wanted to take down his side of the bed only." JJ chuckled as we approached our desks. I slid into my seat, chuckling. JJ threw down her jacket, a push present from Will, and stretched.

Across the bull pen, Derek and Penelope walked past giggling about something. The two of them thick as thieves like always. The Sun had fully risen, and the world was wide awake. Cars honked outside, the team was wondering around on the floor and of course with no reason to be in the field today it was time to hunker down.

Sit down, do some paper work, the whole 9-5. I couldn't focus on the 9-5 though, hormones driving me to run into my fiancé's arms. To smell him, to hug him and remind him just how much I love him by showering him with hugs and kisses.

"How would you even take down his half?" I laughed as a blew on the cider and opening the file on my desk.

"I was looking at chainsaw's on Amazon, I had a plan I just needed to do it." JJ shrugged, opening her own case file and looking up at me through her lashes.

"Listen, my point is, you just have to try to talk to yourself. You're mind is vulnerable right now to all sorts of crazy emotions. You might suddenly hate everything about Spencer. You can randomly wake up and decide you hate him, you hate yourself, you hate the way your house looks, and that you should just take your baby and run away but you have to remember to keep yourself grounded in reality." With a soft sigh and took a sip of my tea, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't about to hear what I was about to say.

"I'm having the opposite issue with Spencer. I want to like, live in his skin." Was I ashamed to admit it? No. Was it slightly embarrassing to say it out loud? Yes.

"Oh! Okay! I mean, if that makes you happy!" It would make me very happy. Happier than this bagel was presently making me.

"No but I mean it. The mood swings will get worse as your first trimester goes on, you have no idea. Just try talking to yourself as often as possible, journal. Take care of yourself."

"Okay okay, I will. Thanks JJ, you're the best." With a shared smile, it was finally time to get some work done. Or just finish my bagel. Yeah, I'm just gonna finish my bagel.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

"No, mom you need to stay in the house. Yes, she's home with you, you will be fine. I saw my fiancée this morning, I don't miss her that badly in the two hours I've been outside. I'm at Target mom. Okay. Love you, bye mom."

Finally off the phone, Spencer slid his phone back into his back pocket. Diana was there for a visit, something she begged Spencer enough that she wore down his negotiating skills. So she got out of the ward for a fun few days.

And yes, Spencer did love the time he got to spend with his mom. He was more than happy to have her. But preparing for a baby, his fiancée either soul crushingly sad or horny or showing him things for their baby because in four months she'd be forcing it out of her body, and keeping your mom on her meds and your fiancée on her prenatal meds...sometimes a man needed to go to Target.

Sometimes a man needed to make breakfast, intentionally finish the milk and eggs, and suddenly have other errands that needed to be run outside.

Pushing through the aisles of Target, they all blended together. Everything just seemed crazy now. His fiancée was pregnant. She was pregnant, and their baby was coming in four months. She was nesting now, according to JJ.

When they found out she was pregnant she remained logical. She mapped out each important date, each doctors appointment, and left major shopping for a bit later. Spencer was the one buying mountains of books, crying over the minuscule things. Now though, she was crying over the little things, waking up with insane cravings (his favorite one to be woken up at 2:47 in the morning over? Buffalo sauce. Not like, buffalo wings. Buffalo sauce by itself but it needed to be hot and in a bowl and when Spencer protested she looked ready to rip him in two), and each day was filled with 'Spencer look at this, Spencer we need this, Spencer we HAVE to have this for our baby or we're shitty parents, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.'

He was in heaven.

His wife couldn't get enough of him, literally sniffing him like he was a big ass pile of coke, his mom was over, it was almost time for their gender reveal (which Emily and Rossi somehow ended up in charge of planning but whatever), and he would be a literal daddy. Not in the sense that she called him but in the actual way.

Without even realizing it, he was in the baby section. His feet basically dragged him there. There was a little onesie, which would be the perfect size for his baby, a pair of baby booties randomly placed near by. But the couple made a promise to themselves, they wouldn't buy anything without each other unless they literally had to have it for their baby. Like the really cute onesie that Spencer found with a little 'R' on the front. 'R' for Reid. Soon they'd be Mr. and Mrs. Reid. Their baby's last name would be Reid.

His fingers ran over the soft cotton fabric of a pink onesie, that had the cutest little flowers stitched on the toes. He pictured it for a moment, a little chunky light skinned baby with curly hair and dark eyes. Brown eyes and chubby cheeks for his/her mommy and daddy to bombard with kisses.

With soft little fingers and little toes. With big eyes filled with innocence that was Spencer's job to guard, that he already knew he'd lay his life down to protect in a heart beat. A baby with a tiny heart beat that he'd be honored to hold. His baby. Their baby together that they made together.

Spencer didn't know when he started moving again, or when he weaved through the groups of people making their way around Target, but he was now on his way to the front and suddenly stopped in front of the cribs.

A large wooden crib with pretty little birds carved into the side. A mobile hung over the soft insides. There were some pillows inside and a mattress inside that looked nice and soft. On the left of it, a white crib, nothing on it but it looked nice and sturdy. And he knew they could probably find some nice designs to put all over the sides.

"First time?" A deep, scratchy voice pulled Spencer from his thoughts. It was an older man maybe 15-20 years older, with his wife standing close to him. Their cart was filled with toys and an abundance of blue. Blue onesies, blue bottles, blue pacifiers, blue toys, blue bibs, blue blankets, blue teething rings. If it was blue, it was in the cart. Clearly not their first time.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, my fiancée. She's pregnant." The smile and blush of happiness that came whenever Spencer told anyone came back. Heat filled his face with joy. Not nerves or anything just pure joy. He wished she was there with him. He wished she was with him looking at the cribs and holding his hand while they looked around. The couple chuckled at how pink he got before the wife began to speak.

"Word of advice, crib shopping without her is a good way to start a war. If he went crib shopping without me for out first I would've murdered him." People say such crazy shit when they don't know you're in law enforcement. Spencer knew she was kidding and couldn't care less but sometimes he wondered how different everyone around him would act if they knew he was FBI.

At work, when he walked onto a scene wearing that jacket with the letters big yellows letters on the back people steered just a bit more clear of him. I mean the FBI is literally the FBI. If he was a normal ass cop he'd be a bit intimidated as well.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'd do the same thing. I'm just looking right now though. I don't want to do any part of this without her." Spencer would never be this open with strangers but some strange part of him, maybe the part that wished he had grandparents, had him telling this couple with kind eyes. And he of all people knew not to judge a book by its cover. Sometimes it was the nicest looking people who committed the most vile crimes.

"Oh, sometimes you'll have too. Of course, you would never make that choice but take it from 40 years of marriage and 38 years of parenting: sometimes you have to make the calls on your own. It doesn't seem likely now, but as a father you may have to make the best call for your child if your partner is unable to make any sort of choice." Huh.

He never thought about that. Well he should've. He's seen marriages torn apart (usually by the most stressful situation possible, your child being kidnapped or murdered or something) because of one parents choice. Usually it being glancing away for one second. But what if his kid needs something while she's out cold? Maybe she's fast asleep and his kid wants to go outside or something. God forbid it's something far more serious, Spencer would have to make a choice.

Maybe. Who knows. But it was true. Sometimes, Spencer would need to make a choice on his own. And although they promised to make any and all big choices together smaller things would require an adults attention.

The realization was too clear on his face because the man chuckled.

"I'm Clive and this is Judy, it was lovely to meet you young man." He extended a hand, and Spencer took it, returning the firm handshake.

"Spencer. It was nice to meet you too. Thank you for the advice."

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

Music was one of the most emotional things in the world. It connected people, spoke to people, saved people. Right now it was destroying me. Right now, I could only hear my heart beat and the Billy Joel song that was wearing me down. The song had me in tears.

I was sitting at our bay window, Diana was watching Judge Judy and sitting calmly after she took her medication this morning with her breakfast. I had a blanket thrown over my legs, a pillow behind my back and my headphones strapped over my ears. She was softly breathing, clutching a pillow to her chest and fidgeting with the soft fringes around the edges of the pillow. From here, she looked a bit like Spencer, eyes focused on the screen with her head tilted slightly to the side. How much would our baby look my me? Or Spencer? Or even Diana, maybe his father or my parents? Anything was possible.

The soft rain pitter-pattered on the window and it just added to my mood. Was I sad? Was I happy? Bitter-sweet was the right word. How would I feel as our child grew before my very eyes? As I watched my baby get bigger with each passing moment? Before eventually they stood on their own two feet and walked completely on their own? I whimpered, an ache in my chest. Each day would be a beautiful reminder of what was to come.

I tried my hardest to keep it down, lest I bother my baby's grandmother. Oh god, grandmother. Diana would be a grandmother. The dam broke all over again and I buried my face in the sheet that was thrown over my knees

"A word of advice," I perked up when Diana's voice added to the mix of music, muffled sobbing and Judge Judy screaming at some random lady.

"When I was pregnant with Spencer, I was all over the place. I kept it to myself, I felt alone. I felt that because I was off my medication my feelings weren't normal but they completely are. Keeping my feelings inside, that turned into stress. Then resentment. For myself, for my husband and sadly for Spencer. Try talking to Spencer about your issues instead of letting them fester."

She read me like a book, what the fuck. Okay I hadn't been the most inconspicuous with my crying BUT dang I wasn't expecting that. I was actually planning to go into the bathroom because I didn't intend to disturb her. Something about being and FBI agent meant emotional constipation. Therefore, I didn't want to talk about my feelings on a deep level, and I did not want a whole thing to be made of it.

But Diana didn't look at me. She didn't turn around and look at me with pity or understanding, she didn't stand up and attempt to hug me, she didn't try questioning me on what was wrong. She just said it. She said it, blue eyes trained onto the TV as a commercial for mesothelioma played. I did my best to wipe tears from my eyes, and from down my face. Perhaps it was time to do away with the music. But in a way, I didn't want this feeling to end. I wanted to feeling to stay. The bitter-sweet feeling washing over me like a blanket. My heart hurt in the best possible way.

"Thank you Diana. I'm not upset, just...feeling things." With a chuckle as I wiped my eyes rubbed my no doubt puffy eyes.

"Well. As long as you're feeling something." Her eyes glued to the TV screen as Judge Judy came back on.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

"Hi everyone, thank you for coming. I just wanted to say thank you for coming to our lovely couples baby shower, Lord knows we all expected to be here sooner." Derek chuckled, raising his ginger ale to us, as we sat perched on the couch next to Rossi's pool. Chuckles and laughter went up all around us, Spencer laughed into his Pepsi. His smile lines crinkled under his sun glasses. God, he just looked kissed by the Sun. God (if there was one) took his time. He took his sweet ass time sculpting each little crease, crinkle, each hair on his head. And it truly paid off.

"Now, if the parents will just come to the front, we'll have them figure out the gender." Finally, Jesus. I loved Derek. I do! But my God could the man talk. And talk. Then talk some more. Maybe it was just the heat bothering me.

It was a sunny day, not too hot though just hot enough to annoy me. People in pink and blue bathing wandered around, Hotch was lounging in his blue swim trunks, Jack standing next to his dad and asking him a stream of questions (he was in that stage) had a the funniest amount of hot pink I've ever seen a child have on.

The wind gave a gentle breeze that offered slight reprieve from the heat as JJ and Will sipped virgin pina coladas from fun sippy cups in their matching pink swim suits. Henry was left with the rest of the kids in the play area with the baby sitters (the same company I planned on using for our wedding) and he arrived in a precious little pink ensemble with pink little sunglasses and sun hat.

And Penny, who could ever forget the darling Penny, who was coming back from the bathroom, with pink hair dye and basically everything else on her body. Even pink eyeshadow. I felt put to shame, thinking my all pink get up was a lot. Spencer had on a blue buttoned up shirt only for the sake of possible opposing sides.

Emily and Rossi (the only people who knew the gender) both wore black swim suits as they sat at the bar. Both giving us no clues at all to the babies gender. Honestly, this entire thing was a bit too big for a regular baby shower.

But we weren't setting any forest fires. Just spending a lot of money on our first child. And with the money we make, of course our children would be pampered each step of the way. No expense needed to be spared. And Spencer, easy going as it is, allowed me to handle the planning for our baby shower (as much as Emily and David allowed me) along with planning our wedding.

The bar, custom drink menu I created, the baby sitting company for all of our friends to bring their kids (honestly this is a small practice run for our wedding), catering company, the pool toys, the kiddie pool Rossi let us set up, and the goodie bags. And Spencer showed up, looking perfect as usual.

Rising to his feet, Spencer gave me a hand and pulled me up from my seat. We waddled (I waddled, Spencer pushed through the small crowd) through the waves of folks who came to see us today (or just came for free food) and eventually climbed to the front.

Looking out at the sea of faces, I almost cried again. I felt Emily place a palm on my shoulder and I wiped my tears before they could fall down. She handed Spencer and I both ice picks, Rossi directing the videographer and the photographer (a personal gift from him). Two black balloons, held in place by David and Emily.

Two black balloons that held out entire future. Two black balloons meant more to me than I thought was humanly possible. My heart beat pounded, as Derek said something about a countdown. The crowd began counting down from ten, as if a countdown was enough for the most important moment of my life, my hands getting sweatier by the moment. Spencer gripped my hand and I glanced over.

Ten...

And I realized then Spencer was terrified as I was.

Nine...

But we were terrified together.

Eight...

And we'd feel everything together from the moment this baby came

Seven...

No matter what happened, no matter how many faces we saw before us right now, it was Spencer and me, and our baby. And maybe one day, more of our babies.

Six...

My soon to be husband, and my child. My eyes welled up again, and Derek made a joke about mom crying early. I'd have to curse him later for being so funny. Our little family was no longer just him, I, Diana and my parents, who were in matching blue outfits watching in anticipation.

Five...

My tears and heart beat combined sounded like the ocean thrumming in my ears and Spencer chuckled nervously and stared down at his flip flops.

Four...

Almost...

Three...

Almost right at my future, the rest of my life.

Two...

Jesus just get to one!

One...

I nearly froze from fear but pushed the ice pick into the balloon, and a sprinkle of pink fell over me. I screamed, my heart soared and I jumped onto Spencer with joy and people clapped an cheered. My mom screamed, literally sobbing as she fell to her knees.

A girl. A girl, to love, and care for, and teach. I wouldn't have cared, either way I wasn't worried but I had always wanted a baby. To have a girl. To love a daughter was truly a gift.

Spencer stood stalk still, like he was a statue and he a terrified grin crossed his face. I saw Rossi nod as Derek chuckled. There was a man holding up a sign, right in front of us with a giant '2' written in pink. Right in front of Spencer, no matter he saw it first.

"Uh oh, Dad's looking a bit- oh my god, oh my god!" And Spencer was flying backwards into Hotch and Rossi.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

"Oh, you can see him start to look a bit pale right there." Penelope narrated to his mother, who they were showing the video too on face time. Spencer was now sitting up right on the living room couch and sipping a ginger ale with trembling hands.

Spencer Reid was having twins. Could his life get any better? What did he ever do to deserve this much happiness? His head hurt just a bit, mainly from when he slipped off the couch after being set down and cracking his head on the floor but this was really happening. It was real.

Suddenly he felt a familiar presence. There she was holding two of his children inside of her and staring up at him with the most gorgeous eyes. She was gorgeous, even more so with the knowledge he had now, and he didn't even know it was possible.

He couldn't help himself, the tears filling his eyes as his mother and Penelope suddenly ended the call and she excused herself gracefully (the internet in the home was shitty, so she'd probably be calling back within the hour) and now he felt tears rushing down his face. She smiled at him, so softly that he couldn't even speak.

"I love you." She whispered as she drew her face closer to his and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

"I love you too. And I love them." The words whispered, just for the two of them.

Well. The four of them.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

The end! I cried a lot during this for no reason lol. I literally bawled my eyes out, I'm suffering from massive baby fever. Anyways, I hope you all like this one <3

#black reader #x reader #x black reader #fem reader #multifandom account #criminal minds #requests open #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fluff #bau team #pregnancy #masterlist #aaron hotchner is a sweetie #the bau being nosy #spencer reid #my man my man my man #live laugh love spencer reid

561 notes · View notes

hai7ani · 17 days ago

Text

plum blossoms in the winter / うめ

r(evol)ution | wc. 5k | chapter playlist | a late vday fic :>

Snow melts off of huge, old willow trees in Tokyo when Haitani Rindou finds himself in a maze.

It is February — cold, somewhat melancholic despite it being the month of love — and he’s shimmying himself into his pair of jeans in the chill of his quiet apartment.

The white turtleneck he has on does little work to keep himself warm. It’s thick but it’s thin, yet he still keeps it on anyway. It’s still something, at least. He’s always been picky and weird when it came to temperatures — though it is more important to note that Rindou has never been a fan of winter. Heavy clothing dumbs him down and he feels like a fool whenever he has that one ugly puffer on (it is thrifted from 2nd Street as a joke and turned out to be the only clothing that keeps him perfectly warm all winter, much to his dismay, because his expensive collection of The North Face puffers he’d spent a fortune on couldn’t even come close).

It’s awfully silent in his tiny home this morning.

Awkward, unsettling, eerie. One that raises mild feelings of distress while he’s buttoning up his ugly green uniform over his stupid turtleneck, that makes him shove belongings into his bag a little more rougher than usual. It just puts him in a bad mood. He hates it.

The only other sound that accompanies him and his jumbled up thoughts amidst it all is the low humming of his creaky heater — which obviously needs some serious servicing — sitting in the corner of his living room. It’s just there, old and rusty. Perhaps he should really get to texting his landlord by the end of this week.

Everything seems to be much more complicated in his head these days. Wires don’t connect, stars don’t align. It doesn’t help that Rindou feels as though the whole world is out to get him lately, too. His manager is going through some weird behavioural changes (a seasonal animal, he thinks), the lousy neighbour upstairs might’ve just morphed into an elephant with the loud stomps in the middle of the night, and his favourite indie restaurant has closed down permanently after filing for bankruptcy not too long ago.

Early sunlight creeps through the gaps of his cheap curtains in slow gradients as he stares at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. It is scattered with toothpaste splatters and water stains that he has not bothered to wipe off — it’s been months since the last proper cleanup around his place, and he still hasn’t found the motivation to do so. But lately he has been finding it harder to get simple things done.

The sight of his sullen, dull face alone has him sucking in a deep breath. He leans in closer, closer — a few fingers stretching out his skin, observing himself in the reflection carefully — until he can see the faded scars from his rebellion (mostly on his forehead and around his lips, accompanied by a few razor bumps here and there) and the ones on his cheek from picking at his acne too often when he was young.

All of these are him, fine. He’s noticed these things about himself since they’ve started existing on his face — they have been a part of him for as long as he can remember and he hasn’t found a valid reason to be insecure. He is not an insecure person at all. He just doesn’t care. He is who he is.

But since when has he ever gotten so tired? Dark circles have formed under his eyes and his skin feels so dry. His lips have started cracking again from the cold and his hair. . . Perhaps some gel might help, but he thinks it’ll make it look even more oily. Guys with hair too shiny under the sun has always been an ick to him.

Sure, he admits he is a loser. From time to time, Rindou is a loser. He doesn’t have friends that last and he doesn’t believe in much. Whatever comes to him — whatever that happens to his shitty little life — he accepts it gracefully. He is a man who acts like one (or so he believes). He’s long past his prime at the big adult age of 24, working full-time in the same old city of Roppongi selling liquor for some income to support his hobby, who is surprisingly still a virgin despite the number of girls that flock to him for his name, to what once was.

But this?

This?

He turns on the faucet and lets it run for some noise — the silence was getting to his head, too much, too loud, too sharp. He watches, swallowing, as ice-cold water runs and runs and he listens to it run. Knuckles turning white while he grips onto the ceramic, cyan sink in anger.

Up until now, Rindou has been content with his life. This life, one of mundane and routine, where all he can hear when he gets home is sharp ringing from deafening silence and the occasional beeping from his laundry. He still wants to believe that this is the peace he has been wishing for since he was young. He still wants to believe that he is fine with being so alone, so lonely by himself all the time. It’s boring some days (most days), but he hasn’t found much fault with it until today. . .

Something in him snaps. Like a worn-out rubber band, like the old branch out his window under the heavy weight of snow. He lets out a breath when he hears it creak. Too much like him, he thinks. It falls to the ground with a muffled thud — on top of more snow — and he switches the tap off.

Fucking winter.

Always bringing out emotions that he does not want to face.

But he thinks this isn’t who Haitani Rindou is at heart at all. He isn’t some pathetic dude who wallows in self-pity for getting his guy feelings hurt by a girl, leaving his heart somewhat broken with her words.

Sure, it may be his first time experiencing love, real love, but he isn’t a goddamn pushover. He can’t be beating himself up for something he can’t control. If time is definitely what she needs, he’ll give it to her, alright.

Though a quote he remembers reading somewhere — perhaps online on some stupid website for advice — lingers in the back of his head. Something about the privilege of feeling so hollow, so helpless, so. . . stupid, for someone.

For a girl, a lady that is clearly not ready to love. A woman who he was so willing to wait for. It is apparently a privilege to feel so strongly for someone, and he almost thought it was a joke.

But it lingered somehow — words of Jay Vespertine had stayed in the back of his head like glue, stuck to his walls like spiderwebs. (His eyes flicker over to the poster of Spiderman hanging off his wall and he resists making himself laugh.)

Perhaps there is some truth to it, after all. He’s not sure. Rindou knows jack shit about love.

So when the phone rings and he sees that it’s a video call from you — or more like from your son, who is crying and fussing in your arms in the preview — he wastes no time in picking it up.

Calls in sick and all. Grabs his keys to go. He peels off his ugly green uniform on his way out and haphazardly throws on that lousy, stupid puffer hanging off his rack before slamming the door shut.

(He’s not as numb as people see him to be.)

— cw. childbirth (short)

You work in a luxury retail store in downtown Ginza. It is demanding and draining with a dog-shit management team, but it pays well, at least. Without this job you wouldn’t be able to comfortably pay for bills and your son’s daycare (a proper one with teaching sessions for his learning difficulties), and still have some extra for light shopping and desserts on the few weekends that you are off.

Shou is soon turning three in Spring.

You still remember the first time you had held him in your arms, in the cramped hospital room where the smell of blood and womb had filled your nose. It felt so overwhelming, and it was overwhelming. His father wasn’t in attendance and the only support you had was from the nurse who looked so much like your own mother. (You haven’t seen her in a while, and you do not plan on doing so anytime soon.)

His birth was painful and you remember crying so much. It was so rough and you wanted to die. You remember being so close to giving up right after his head was out and you swore you didn’t have the energy to continue anymore.

But you pushed through, held on, and your baby was fine. He was healthy and he weighed good — five fingers on each hand, long lashes on his eyes, red, wet lips carrying a voice that wailed so loud.

He was fine. But you were not.

You were just a young girl, like any other, who had her own hopes and dreams, too. You were only 22 and you wanted so much — you wanted love, you wanted education, you wanted to make money, you wanted to travel the world. . .

You wanted to blossom like the flowers in spring and spread your wings like an angel.

But girls can never have too much at once. They can never have what they want.

Girls can never be who they are.

Right when your education was going uphill you just had to get caught up with a bum — an alcoholic, a borderline abuser — and have his kid. It was a careless, horny mistake — a one-night stand that turned into a fling, who soon became someone you had to live with for the sake of a child you did not plan for.

(You truly loved him, you did, but it wasn’t enough to make you stay.

You cannot stay anymore.)

But Shou was never a regret to you. Without him, there wouldn’t be any motherhood to your life. He taught you so much with his little face, little hands, that sweet voice you love hearing it yell ‘Mommy’, showing you so many ways to love a person that you didn’t even know was possible. It’s rough, but it is for him, your baby, and you want to give him as much as you can, while you still can.

Which is also the reason why you find yourself waiting outside the prestigious Louis Vuitton store in the cold, carrying a sniffling child in your arms and fierce eyes boring holes onto the back of your head through the window.

Risa-san is annoyed, to say the least. This isn’t the first time your son has brought you trouble at work. There have been few counts of you bringing your son along because he cannot be found separated from his mother. To her, this isn’t professional. You aren’t a good mother. You should’ve taught him better. These were words she had said to your face during an angry confrontation because Shou had spilled milk all over her expensive leather shoes while he was running around in the store room and bumped into her legs. (It was dimly lit and Shou was afraid of the dark.)

And you understand her perspective, really. You do. You feel bad that she — and all the other employees — have to put up with your personal issues at work. You aren’t a professional staff at all.

But you feel even worse for finding yourself relieved and happy that today — for the first time since he was born — Shou is crying for someone who isn’t you.

God, you really needed the break.

His ‘be there in 20’ text right after you hung up the call was as true as it sounded.

Rindou never lies.

“Windou!” Shou-chan practically jumps out of your arms, wiggling his socked feet and all (his little shoes are off and hanging off your fingers) at the sight of his favourite person. The sniffling stops and he is back to a grinning, happy boy again.

“I’m really sorry for having you come over,” you say, face apologetic and worried when he locks his car and crosses the street. The bright orange puffer he has on is ridiculous — a huge contrast to the ivory white streets covered in snow, he looks so out of place — and you let out a shaky breath and pretend to fix your son’s jacket to cover the laugh bubbling in your throat.

“Where’s his scarf?” There’s a small, concerned frown on his face when you hand the boy off to Rindou. It’s smooth and it feels so natural that it sends something warm and tingly spreading all across your chest. It doesn’t help that he is standing so close to you in this tiny street, pushed together to make way for other pedestrians.

Something about his presence around you this winter feels like a heavy blanket in the night — comforting, warm, something that feels so much like home. You cannot explain it clearly.

“He didn’t wanna wear it.” You pass him his shoes, out of breath. The cheeky boy is unzipping the top of Rindou’s puffer for warmth (and because he is a cheeky boy, but Rindou lets him anyway) while you converse.

It’s been a week since you’d last spoken to each other and it feels awkward, to say the least. He’s looking at everything but you and you’re looking at everything but him. Every little thing, down to the way he is obviously pretending to fix Shou’s jacket too (you’re just the same, the both of you, you’re one kind), reminds you of the night you’d hurt him with harsh words (about him, about you, about your son) and he'd stormed out the door after getting his point across because he’d gotten so fed up with it.

Or with you. You do not know.

But you do notice a Thermos that he hands you with his free hand after a minute of dodging eyes and avoiding feelings. “Red bean. Picked it up on my way.”

And then they’re off. “Let’s go, buddy. We’ll walk today, yeah?” A huge nod paired with an equally huge, toothy grin, “yeah!”

Shou doesn’t even wave you goodbye because he is so busy playing with Rindou’s many earrings with one little finger. Naughty boy, doesn’t even want Mommy anymore after finally getting to see who he wants.

“We’ll be nearby. Text me when your shift ends.”

When he leaves, it’s with a look that he sends into your store — through the large window, past the luxury bags on display, into the eyes of a girl who dodges it before turning away awkwardly.

—

“Is he the father?” Her sharp voice breaks through the peaceful quiet of the pantry. The sound of steaming hot water dispensing into your cup is no longer pleasant while you ponder about her intentions.

Risa-san shoots you a look over her shoulder when you don’t reply. “I’m just asking. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You only blink and screw the Thermos shut. “No, he isn’t.”

”I see. Was just curious about what he’s doing with you.” She shakes her head, “you as in a single mother, I meant. Nothing more.”

Her response makes you perk. “Do you know him?”

“You don’t?” She looks genuinely shocked, for once. “I went to school with him when we were young. Haitani Rindou, right? I think he recognised me, too. He was pretty well known back then, you know? He used to be in a huge bosozoku back in those days, but I heard he even went to jail or something, because he disappeared right after graduation.”

“Really?”

She raises her hands in defense when she turns to look at you, “I’m just saying. I guess he is a changed man now. But he wasn’t a bully or anything like that though. Just seemed to be a teen who had a huge phase.”

—

Rindou has been told once that he resembled an oyster.

He was sixteen in autumn — still in uniform with a fresh wound to his cheek after a petty fight with some asshole in the class next door — when an old shaman tapped him on the shoulder gently in the streets and whispered it to his ear like a secret. The wind blows and dried leaves rustle. From the corner of his eyes he sees a calico cat crossing the street. He truly thinks mother nature is mocking him at that moment. Almost as if to say, good luck with that info.

It weirded him out at first, but he let it sink in the whole time he was walking home that day.

He let it sink in for years.

It turned out to be true, kind of.

“You’re tight. I’ll need a knife to get you to open up.” She was dead serious, too. Her voice was deep, stern — she had an unsettling look to her face that would’ve disturbed him genuinely if it wasn’t for the music playing in his ears, distracting him sort of. He didn’t manage to get a word in before she left, didn’t fully understand what she meant until he did.

Seven years have gone by and Rindou still thinks of that encounter every now and then. But much more frequently these days when it’s zero degrees at two, melancholy clinging onto the cold nights of winter tickling him at his feet, and he’s falling asleep to the thought of you. The grave realisation comes to him like whiplash when lazing around in bed one day tossing stress balls in the air, thinking about him, you, what you could’ve been sooner if he’d met you a little bit earlier before you became a mother.

About the girl you were before, about the boy he was and still somewhat is.

His phone lights up from a notification on the counter and he perks. A customer speaks to him about a gift suggestion but he tunes it out like white noise in the wind.

Rindou doesn’t deny that he’s fallen in love.

For the first time ever, he’s opened up his oyster heart.

—

It takes two longing days for Rindou to ready himself to see you again.

Your text from the other day has left him over-contemplating on his thoughts, the suffocating what-ifs when you finally do meet. It doesn’t help that he’s alone most of the time so he’s often found swimming in his own world, hanging around in his bubble and beating himself up for things that only exist in his head.

It almost pains him to drive through the city to see you. When stopping at a red light watching a sweet couple cross the street with a large bouquet of roses in her hand, he wonders if he torments you just as much as you do to him. He wonders if you think about him at night to stars that laugh at the both of you all the time.

A small part of him still hopes that you see him the same way he sees you too — that things are not what you’d said the other time in your living room. He prays for some hope that things will change after today.

Shinjuku Gyoen is quiet at this time of the month. Quiet in a way that is calm, one that tells him something good is coming. At that, Rindou finds himself growing excited to something that is probably not going to come true. He stops his leg from shaking out of habit and looks away from one dead tree to another.

His nostrils hurt from the frosty air and he holds his breath. But the ones grazing his cheek are somewhat pleasant, at least. He likes that.

“Thanks for the flowers.” You finally say after a moment. When he turns, you are smiling down at the small bouquet of camellias held tightly in your hands, sniffing and admiring. You look beautiful today. Your dress — on top of layers of thick innerwear — is flowy and your hair is done nice. You look different than previous times when you’d meet on weekends and have coffee over games of Wordle, where he’d teach you simple English with your son who too has his own cup of chocolate, hot or iced, depending on his mood. And you’re wearing the shoes he’d helped pick on an impulsive online-shopping session on payday.

Rindou does not know why he’d chosen such a day to meet up as per your request. He’d only said this Friday — not on the 14th, not on Valentines. This Friday (today) simply lined up with work and he needed time to prepare himself before seeing you again. It’s only when he returns home and stares at the calendar while doing his laundry that he remembers the meaning this day holds. He slapped himself on the face. One more thing to worry about, you idiot — because Rindou sucks at buying gifts, and even more so for a girl.

But fuck it, he thinks. It’s now or never.

(He did a great job with his gift this time.)

“It’s. . . only right.” He responds, scraping the sole of his Converse on the ground for some noise. Rindou hates awkward silences. Though a random busker has started performing at the other side of the park, and he almost thanked her for it. The sound of light acoustic guitar and a pretty voice travels through your ears with the help of a cooling breeze — Best Part by Daniel Caesar plays, you hum at the noise. “It’s nice out today.”

The sky is blue and bright. It isn’t snowing and doesn’t seem to be anytime soon. It’s a perfect day for a walk for those who find happiness in the cold (you, for example), but too bad that Shou-chan is at home with Yuzuha who doesn’t have a date, much to her dismay. He wouldn’t have minded that the little guy tagged along today — he wanted to see him, he was looking forward to it.

It is nice out today, but it is still winter, and he notices you fixing your scarf tighter around your neck.

If you won’t, he will.

“Do you. . . wanna walk?” Rindou starts. You look at him, pretty eyes folding into soft crescents at his initiative, almost appreciative. Your lips are rosy, stretched into a smile you secretly only reserve for him, and your lashes flutter at the sight of his boyish features. You’re deep down a girl who has really thin skin — one that selectively thickens for hard times — and you cannot bear to be selfish for yourself.

But he will, for you.

“Okay.”

For the rest of your walk to the coffee shop located in the park itself, Rindou lets you set the pace — for both the conversation and the speed of your legs against his on the pavement.

You’ll walk in front, admiring the scenery, and he’ll admire you.

—

(His prayers have been heard. He reminds himself of Namiki-kun from First Love.

He secretly cheers, too.)

—

“I like you, Rindou-kun.” You begin, out of breath, cheeks red like the bloomy camellias in your hands upon hearing your own words. A young child runs past the gap between you and him, chasing after a friend who stole his toy. His mother apologises, but you pay her no mind.

When he looks up from the dirt on his shoelaces, he can see it all on your face. You really are such a thin-skinned girl. You are trying so hard to be brave. For what you really, really want. It’s evident in your eyes. The eyes never lie.

“I really, really do.” You smack your lips together and shift your stance, hoping that you don’t look like an idiot standing before him. “I didn’t mean what I said the other day, about leading you on. . . and all the other things I’ve said. But I kinda hope I did lead you on, because I do like you that way. . . too.”

You catch the mild hesitation in his steps when he comes closer, and closer — so close that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and you squirm, melt, hold back a pathetic whimper when he looms over you so romantically under the blooming plum tree.

A hand of his picks away a blossom that landed on your crown, rolling its fragile stem between two pads of fingers, admiring, and then you. Sunlight creeps through the leaves and branches — into your eyes, on your shy, somewhat embarrassed figure — and he truly thinks you are something else. An angel, a sweet angel, you’re different when you are just by yourself, expressing your wants.

More of plum blossoms fall on you both when the wind blows. Some land on the broad shoulders of his coat (that you’ve noticed him wearing, because he was never a long-coat wearer until today), between the soft of his gelled blonde hair, into the creases of your fluffy scarf.

“Will you wait for me?”

You stretch your neck upwards to look at him properly.

“I will need time, I hope you understand. I hope you can be patient with me.” You almost cry when his amethyst eyes do not waver against your own. You want to be heard. You want to be seen.

“But I like you, too, Rindou. I really, really wanted you to know that.”

You want to be loved.

“Please wait for me.”

He tucks the blossom into your hair, watching it stay in place, even when a harsher wind blows and you breathe.

Truly beautiful, pretty. So you.

His response comes to you in the form of a kiss. A short peck that makes waves crash, like the soft brush of two petals meeting in the universe. Although inexperienced and shy, his lips are soft and lovely against your own that tastes so much of sweet strawberry from your favourite lip balm. It reminds him of everything that February is.

With him, you do not have to beg for love.

He can assure you that.

—

“What’s going on with you?”

The restaurant is way too busy for his brother to be asking this question. He only shoots him a look before blowing on his ramen. “What’s up with me?”

”You’re different today.” This time. Ran’s voice is as lazy as it can be. He eats a gyoza and eyes the no-smoking sign on the wall. “Like, really different.”

Rindou does not deny that. “Go back to eating your stupid gyoza.” Ran has been bugging his brother for it the minute he got back from university. He’s chosen to move out and live in the lousy dormitories because he claimed it’ll help him focus with studies a lot more better. And with easy access to campus, too.

A pretentious guy, really. Ran had gone back to get education with a loan as soon as he left the gangster scene with his brother. Among all subjects he could’ve chosen to study and probably earn money when he finally finishes his course, Ran had settled for Art History as a major. On the surface he claims it’ll make him seem way more mysterious and cool, and even though Rindou plays along with it sometimes, he knows otherwise with all the hidden stash of art magazines and memoirs beneath Ran’s bed that has been piling up along the years. (And that one painting by William McTaggart as his wallpaper that he hasn’t bothered to change for years.)

“I already am.” Ran only scoffs. But he does not take any of it to heart — it’s just the way they communicate, has been the way that they communicate. Rude, boisterous, teasing sometimes — just like close-knit brothers, which they are, and naturally, Ran is not wrong about his observation of his brother, yet he does not poke. A shared, silent understanding between the duo.

Nahoya comes around the counter in his oil-stained apron and grins. “How’s the food, boys?” Souya peeks his head out from the kitchen.

“I’m older than you.” A warning.

“Let me smoke in here.” A plea.

Nahoya walks away.

—

Light snow falls on their heads when Ran offers him a cigarette sticking out of the box. Seven Stars, which has been long favoured by both brothers since they’d begun smoking.

Rindou only coughs into his fist and shakes his head, much to Ran’s surprise. Another smoker in the section stares and then away, quick, when Ran shoots him a look. Just had to make things awkward for no reason.

The streets of Kamiyamacho are surprisingly quite empty today. In this street specifically, only the Kawata’s ramen restaurant is crowded with people. Rindou only shrugs when he notices his brother waiting.

“I quit smoking a while ago.” He shoves his hands into his pockets like a jock.

“Huh? Since when?”

“Like last summer, right after you moved out.” Ran’s mouth opens, then it closes — at a loss for words, but he wants to say something. The other guy leaves after butting out his cigarette in the designated ashtray. As if he knows.

“Was it hard?”

Rindou ponders for a moment at that, like a garden in bloom, each thought growing and intertwining with one another. He thinks of all the withdrawal symptoms he went through right after he stopped smoking for the first month, and it was an excruciating process, to say the least. It was hard, rough, but he is glad he chose to quit in the first place.

“Kind of, yeah. No regrets, though.” A subtle pause. “I can breathe better now.”

A woman dragging along her fussy toddler passes them by and Rindou stares and stares, sparkly orbs not once leaving the boy who is crying for his dad. His phone chimes in his pocket and he excuses himself to go text her back.

Ran thinks he knows.

After all, he did notice the polaroid of Rindou with an unfamiliar girl under a blooming plum tree shoved into his wallet when he was paying for food earlier. (And the wallpaper of a little boy playing with a familiar DJ setup on his phone. . . Ran recognised one of his own belongings in the background — that ugly table cloth that used to be his shirt can never escape his eagle eyes.)

Ran always knows.

Rindou has fallen in love.

thank you mie and ina for helping me with this ♡

#r(evol)ution #writing #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev #tokrev x reader

106 notes · View notes

nightlyrequiem · 4 months ago

Note

Basically when Valeria is getting questioned, she mocks Alejandro by bringing up the fact that right after she left the Mexican special forces, she took his girlfriend with her and made her into her wife. (A fem reader request with reader being the ex girlfriend of Alejandro who used to visit the base but ended up up getting charmed by Valeria and is now her wife.)

Oh I love this. Valeria would totally be able to steal his girl. She's just so suave

Might incorporate this idea into a future series. Or maybe just make a part two or something. I live for the drama tbh I want to write more of Alejandro being upset. I don't even hate his character but I've developed a dislike for him because people ship him with Valeria. That sounds a little pathetic though...

Tags/Warnings: Violence, Valeria and Alejandro Scuffle, TF141 Cameo, Reader Is Only mentioned

Under New Ownership

Phillip Graves keeps one firm hand on Valeria's shoulder as he leads her through Alejandro's base. So many memories flaring up at the familiar sights and smells. His touch is agitating her. Heavy, warm, masculine. She shrugs him off as she's sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair. The interrogation room is nothing more than a shipping container. The others join them. Men of Taskforce 141, and Alejandro and Rudolfo. Valeria regrets nothing. Not betraying and turning her back on her brothers in arms, and not all the damage she's done as El Sin Nombre. Valeria Garza is a woman with many achievements under her belt. Why should she apologize for being successful?

"Have a seat." The blond man says. He turns his attention to Alejandro, who is already glowering at her. "So, how do you two know each other?" He asks.

"Know is a strong word." Alejandro responds. Hatred frosting his voice. Just his voice is enough to alight Valeria's nerves with disgust.

"Strong words are important. Our word is our worth, right?" She taunts. using one of his past proverbs against him. That's all it takes to set him off. To send him storming towards her cursing in Spanish. The others are quick to intercept him. Grabbing ahold of him, like an out-of-control dog, Valeria thinks. Should put him down like one. She was always more of a cat person.

"Yeah? Yeah." Alejandro growls, pulling away and reigning in his temper. He turns back to Valeria, drowning her in his distaste. "Go on, tell them."

Valeria leans back and gets comfortable. As comfortable as a person can be while sitting on a hard chair surrounded by hostiles.

"We served together." She explains with boredom. Nothing but unimportant history. Files collecting dust in a backroom kind of history. "Same squads different units. You were the wild ones. Los Vaqueros." She sneers at him. "We had a common... interest."

Alejandro stiffens. It's barely enough to be perceived but Valeria perceives it nonetheless.

"What might that be?" Graves inquires. Raising a light brow. Valeria angles her head towards the man but keeps her gaze locked onto Alejandro's.

"We have... quite the similar taste in women." She remarks. Picturing your soft face. The angle of your eyebrows. The delicate lines of your lips. The column of your throat. Something once belonging to him now under her ownership.

You always used to visit the base. All soft angles and colours amongst the gray and violence. Valeria felt compelled by you the first time she saw you, a rare flower amidst the barren desert. Such a thing would wilt under Alejandro's possession. Valeria made haste in befriending you. An act she knew would grate on Alejandro, but she didn't care. He felt threatened by her.

"Don't bring her into this." Alejandro demands. Jabbing a thick, angry finger at her.

"This lovely little thing used to visit him every week." She continues anyway. "But he wasn't the only one she sought out. She always liked me better."

"Okay, enough of this." Price sighs. Trying to redirect the conversation. In due time. Alejandro scowls and breathes heavily like a bull.

"You poisoned her mind with lies." He says, voice cracking with hurt. "She's a good woman, she wouldn't have left if you hadn't fed her your bullshit about me."

Valeria laughs in his face. Mocking and cruel.

"I didn't have to do anything besides show her attention." She scoffs. "You were always so high-strung and busy because of work. You had something so beautiful within your grasp and you chose your little Vaqueros."

"Lying bitch." He barks. Taking an aggressive step forward. "Are you hurting her? Threatening her?"

Valeria scowls at the accusation. She's wicked and vile but she'd never hurt you. Not even unintentionally like Alejandro has. "I haven't." She snaps. "She's at home - our home, probably curled up in bed. Maybe she's baking something." Valeria shrugs, putting on a show of casualty. "She loves to cook for me. After a long day I get to return home to a warm meal, not something you can relate to."

Rudolfo shakes his head. This isn't going where they want it to. Time is ticking, much like the three bombs she's sent to Chicago.

"I'm going to kill you." Alejandro promises. Eyes wide with anger. "After they've gotten their use out of you, I'm going to put a fucking bullet through your head, Valeria."

"Alejandro-"

"You're not a very good leader if you couldn't even keep your own girlfriend." Valeria sneers. Goading him on. She's not scared of him at all. She leans against her chair, lips curled into a smirk. "You weren't very good at leading in bed either." She coos. "You won't believe the sounds she makes, I have her screaming my name every fucking night-"

Faster than anyone can react Alejandro is on her. Not holding back as he punches her hard in the jaw. The force sends her and the chair toppling over. Blinding her with pain. Not enough for her to not fight back. She slams her fist into his nose, feeling a spray of blood and hearing a satisfying crunch.

Valeria's blood is fizzing with adrenaline and excitement. Unfortunately, the fight is cut short as the two are pulled apart. Alejandro left struggling and yelling in the grips of Ghost and Rudolfo.

"You're over." Alejandro hisses viscerally. 'Do you hear me? I'm going to get you. I'm going to fucking get you."

Valeria can feel a bruise forming in her jaw. You'll ask what happened and kiss it better when you see it. Alejandro has no one to worry over his injuries but himself. Valeria wants to keep fighting until only one of them is left standing but that will have to come another day. She rubs her jaw. Another day.

"You hit like a pussy." She growls, angry and wound up. Valeria is forced back into the chair. The time for games is over. Valeria hands over the information they seek with as much contempt as she can produce in her five-foot-six body. A storm is steadily rumbling in the distance. Its growls audible through the walls. An omen of what's to come.

#valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #cod mw2 #valeria garza #modern warefare ii #valeria garza cod

229 notes · View notes

del-thetiredwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Mafia Au/Good luck while running away from mafia part 4

Intro, part 0.5 , part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 5 , part 6

Tags: @hrhqueenfox , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine , @h3apm3ch4n151m , @cecilebutcher , @ayachansan , @roseapov , @randomlyappearingartist , @serenity-loves-red , @wonderlandcrown , @nightw-izhu , @moonlight-nightwing , @lorkai , @lucid-stories , @morokumi

Notes: little bit rushed I guess? Well I am working on three other aus at the moment so. I hope you like it.

Warning: yandere stuff, gn reader, English is not my first language…

4 years ago

“Tyranttt!” You moaned.

“I haven't eaten a bite or drank a sip of water for hours. Now you're giving me an exam! “This is not a test, it is torture!” You shouted to the cameras on the wall.

As usual, you were training with Crewel sensei all day long. And it couldn't be said that he was a very kind teacher. He was extra harsh on you, especially compared to the other people he trained.

However, he had especially gotten things out of hand. Today was one of your least favorite days. Surprise exam day. Surprise exams: as the name suggests, you would never know the content and time of the exam. Crewel would put you to the test suddenly, without you even noticing. You especially hated the hands-on ones.

You couldn't eat properly yesterday. You had been training under Crewel Sensei all day. When you returned home, you fell asleep straight away from exhaustion. When you woke up, you found yourself handcuffed in a room. While I was sleepily trying to comprehend what was happening, Crewel Sensei's voice echoed into the room from the ceiling speaker.

“My dear little puppy, guess what time? Correct answer: Surprise exam! Your mission is to get out of the handcuffs and get out of this building within two hours. Let me tell you from the beginning, do not complain, the exam was prepared according to the topics we covered. Then I wish you good luck. Your time has begun.”

“Two hours and 6 minutes nch nch. You need to work harder. 8 minutes to get out of the handcuffs, 43 minutes to open all the locked doors, 40 minutes to pass the obstacles... we better tighten up your training."

You just glared at Divus as he seriously analyzed the exam. You're too hungry to bother with that damn practical exam. You just focused on eating your salad.

“I mean, what was slowing you down? Should we increase the number of exams?

“Sensei, it’s just six minutes, I was tired, unprepared-“

“The aim is to prepare you for all kinds of situations.” Crewel interrupted.You grimaced. You weren't in the mood to argue with him right now.

While Crewel was talking about your mistakes, there was a knock on the door. It was Sam.

“Sam-san!” Your eyes sparkled with joy at the sight of your savior. Whenever Crewel scolded you or increased your training hours, he would save you from Crewel like a savior angel.

“Excuse me to interrupt, but Boss wants the little imp.” said Sam.

“Huh, now? Why does he want Y/n?” Crewel asked with a grimace.

"Who knows. By the way, get it while you're at it.I brought the information you requested.”

He handed Crewel a package. Meanwhile, you escaped at the first opportunity you had and went to Crowley, the head of the mafia.

“Looks like Crewel gave you one of his wonderful exams again, hmm?” The masked man asked, as he poured a tea for you.

"Yes sir."

Dire Crowley is the head of one of the largest organizations in the Underworld and also your protector who took you in when you were ten years old. You had always wondered how such a goofy and slightly weird guy became the head of the mafia.

Once, when you asked Crewel sensei about this, he told you these words.“If you only knew what that man did… Anyway, just be careful with him. He is…the devil himself.”

“You've been with me for a long time, Y/n, and the time has finally come.”He handed you a file.

“Congratulations, you are now an official member of the mafia and here is your first target.”

You started examining the file.

“This man was a traitor we had been looking for a long time. He poses a great danger to the organization. I want you to get rid of him.”

———

Current time

You were on something soft. You opened your eyes slowly. You felt a pain in your shoulder.

“Jamil! Y/n woke up!”

You heard a joyful familiar voice. The owner of the voice hugged you with joy. Kalim. You tried to comprehend the events in a dazed manner.

That's right, Floyd shot you last and you fainted from blood loss while running with all your strength. And apparently Scarabia had caught you.

“Oh Y/n you really had me worried. If you only knew how scared I was when I saw you like that, shot and unconscious."

You didn't reply. You just stared blankly at Kalim.

“Yes Y/n you had us all so worried.” Jamil entered the room. He had a black agenda in his hand and was wearing a suit. Now if you look carefully, Kalim was also wearing a suit. The welds of weight on his wrists jingled as he turned to survey the room. Oh you were chained.

“Is it allowed to keep such things in the hotel room?” You said.

“Oh, I'm sorry, we brought the silver ones with us because we came here in a hurry, but don't worry, we have gold ones at home.” said Kalim innocently.

You loved Kalim, his sweet and pure nature prevented you from venting your anger on him. You gritted your teeth. You looked at Jamil.

“Kalim, you better go now, you need to greet our guests for the meeting. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes." Jamil dragged the manager out by force.

“But Jamil-“

“Don't worry, nothing will happen. They are both injured and the whole hotel is full of guards.”

After Kalim left, a grin appeared on Jamil's face that you had never seen before. A familiar and yet disturbing grin.

“Congratulations, you are truly someone who lives up to the title of the boss's right-hand man. Sorry, his former right-hand man. You know Kalim was so panicked it was hard for me to calm him down. Especially when you suddenly disappeared he stopped working, coming to meetings…You owe me for this.”

You didn’t answer. You knew he was trying to provoke you.

“I wonder what would have happened if those documents had never arrived? Would the boss throw you aside? Would you be his heir after all the training you received?”

You tried to hold yourself back.

"Who knows." You replied.

A burst of laughter broke out from Jamil. He approached you.

“Oh, you are really tough. It's not easy to break you, but don't worry, we have plenty of time. The doctor will be coming soon to change your bandages, so don't be a hassle. I notified room service for you to have breakfast.”

And he left the room.

You laughed. Oh apparently Crewel Sensei was right. Training would really come in handy.

Once you were free of the chains, you got into the bed and waited for the doctor.Indeed, as Jamil said, the doctor came about fifteen minutes later.You quietly waited for him to approach you on your bed.

“Excuse me, Y/n-san are you awake?”

You didn't reply. Just as the doctor was bending over to lift the blanket on you, you jumped on top of them and gagged them with one of the sheets before they could scream. You undressed the poor doctor while they were struggling in chains made for you.

“I'm sorry, but you know I have to run away. And my clothes are a little off for that.”

You were careful not to attract the suspicion of the guards as you left the room dressed as a doctor. You started walking away from there with normal steps.

Indeed, as Jamil said, there was protection everywhere. As you were about to get into the elevator, you noticed the guards talking on the phone, then they all hurriedly dispersed. Apparently room service had found the poor doctor.

You changed direction. You walked calmly but quickly and pulled the fire alarm. And as you wish, chaos broke out.

While people were screaming and running in panic, you mixed in with them. And you finally reached the exit.

When you left the hotel, you hailed a taxi with the money you got from the poor doctor.

“To the amusement park,” you said to the driver.

Then you called that number with the phone you got from the doctor.

“Hey it's me Y/n. It's time to pay me back. Be at the amusement park. Don't forget to bring a vehicle and weapon with you. You better be on time, Snow White."

“Looks like your training has paid off, Crewel.”The masked man said in a sarcastic tone.

“It's truly incredible, but it's a shame that such a person is a traitor.” said Trein as he caressed Lucius.

“Well, talent is in their blood, after all, he was like that too when he was young.” said Vargas.

“I have work to do. With your permission,” Crewel stood up sharply.

“Oh Crewel, don't be angry-“ but before Crowley could finish his sentence, Crewel spoke angrily.

“You hate it the most when we talk about him. Didn't you declare him a traitor to take over, and completely erased Ramshackle from the mafia? And now you're sacrificing them for your executives."

Crowley smiled under his mask.

“Crewel Crewel, are you really going to play innocent? You were the one who gave them those documents. If they didn't know anything, maybe we would still be living in peace. But no problem. After this game, we will return to our peaceful life again."

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst #yandere kalim al asim #kalim al asim #twst kalim #twisted wonderland kalim #jamil viper #twst jamil #twisted wonderland jamil #yandere jamil viper #yandere jamil x reader #twisted wonderland mafia au

467 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year ago

Note

more girl dad! hotch plsssss 😫😫😩😩😩

hotch navigates his small family ♡ mom!reader, 1k

Hotch speaks with a softness you could spin into silk. "That's okay, sweetheart. You fill this one out for me next."

You peer through the small gap in the door. Hotch is sitting behind his desk with a case file open in front of him, though you assume any photographs are sequestered away, because in his lap sits a small girl, a toddler with dark, neat hair and a matching frown.

"This one next," she says, picking up her crayon.

"That one next. Good job, I'll be finished in no time with you helping me."

"And we can have… uhm…"

"Rusks?"

"Yes, please."

Hotch leans down to kiss his daughter's small head gently. "You're so polite. How about we leave all this grown up work and get you a rusk now?"

She turns on his leg to slouch into his stomach. Hotch picks her up, the sleeves of his shirt tightening at his biceps as he wraps them behind her back and under her butt, pushing the office chair aside with a careful leg.

He sees you in the doorway and smiles.

"Hi, Mr. Hotchner," you say.

"Hi, mommy," he says, directing Jane's little body your way so she can see you where you're standing outside of his home office. "What are you doing?"

"Just coming to check on you both. And I need help with something."

You've stopped expecting him to pass you whatever kid it is he's carrying anymore. When Aaron is home, he's home, and he's dearly attached to his young daughter. He'd be attached to Jack if he weren't constantly out in the backyard looking for toads. He kisses your cheek, careful not to squish Jane between you. "What do you need help with?"

"I can't get the lid off of the pickles and I promised Jack I'd get him the biggest one."

"Why are our children so hungry?" he asks, putting his hand behind your shoulder as you walk down the stairs together. "Could it be because they both refuse to eat their breakfast, even when mommy says you'll regret it?"

"Breakfast?" Jane asks, blinking owlishly.

You smile at her. "No, sweetheart. Let's have rusks and milk, should we? With honey. Dad's gonna make it just the way you like it."

Jack is back in the house tracking mud footprints over every inch of the kitchen. Only then does Aaron pass you Jane. She's light and easy to hold, she doesn't wriggle or gripe. Despite her resting frown, she's a happy girl who's content to be passed from person to person. "Daddy?" she asks.

"Two seconds." Jack stands guiltily by the fridge, looking down at his shoes and then up at the ceiling, like looking away will get rid of the mess. "Jack, we've talked about this. You can play in the yard when it's wet if you take your shoes off before you come in."

"Well, I thought my shoes would be more dry," Jack says.

"You can't leave water everywhere. What if Y/N slipped while she was carrying your sister? Then they'd both be hurt."

"I guess," Jack says.

"We're gonna have to mop it up. You can help me, buddy. You remember where we put the mop bucket?"

You prop Jane on the island by the sink basin. She immediately puts her hand under the faucet, fascinated by the automatic water. "Wow, lots of fuss," you say.

Aaron helps Jack take off his messy shoes and puts the mop bucket into the basin with a heap of praise for Jane's assistance, such a good helper. He lifts Jack up to squirt cleaner into the water. He's still laughing when he sets him down.

"Rusks, dad?" Jane asks.

Aaron almost barrels you over trying to hold her, lifting her back into his arms to kiss her soft cheek. "I am, I promise." He gives you a pleading look. "Honey–"

"Yeah, okay. I never do the mopping, anyways. Me and Jack will learn together."

You can hear him drowning Jane in love and sweetness as you and Jack get to work. "It's like this, babe, we push the mop head into the drain so we can soak up all the muddy water, then rinse and repeat." You drop your voice to a whisper, hands slack on the handle. "Don't worry, I'll do all the hard work."

"Can we still have pickles?" Jack asks.

"Of course we can. Dad's not mad, he just doesn't like the mess. Quicker we clean up, the sooner we can have a snack. You're not super hungry, are you?"

"I'm starving."

You put the mop back in the bucket, looking Jack up and down. He looks like he could use some proper warming after his time outside in the late September cold, pale cheeks rosy and his nose kissed with chill.

"Aaron? Me and Jack have to pause the mopping, we're hungry."

"Pretend I believe you and sit down. I'll make you something."

"We really are hungry, dad."

Jack takes your hand and pulls you toward the kitchen table. It's an organised chaos, your work things, Aaron's coat, Jack's science project. Underneath it lays a carpet of baby toys and Jane's washables; she plays under the table often to be close to her dad when he's working and you're cooking, or he's cooking and you're reading.

You put him in a seat next to the highchair where Jane spoons warm rusk-mush into her mouth hurriedly. Aaron has secured a baby pink bib around her neck with a safety pin and filled her little sippy cup with watered down orange juice. She looks as happy as you've ever seen her as she misses her own mouth.

You fill Aaron's seat as he vacates it to watch her. You and Aaron are good at filling each other's gaps, parenthood akin to the world's most loving game of musical chairs, and you're just as good at being together, you'd say —he squeezes your shoulders as he leans down. "For the record, you know how to mop. I just don't see why you should."

"That's the right idea," you say happily, laughing as he kisses your cheek.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

1K notes · View notes

heaven-s-black-box · 28 days ago

Text

Notes- Blabber Mouth; Pyro Men x gn!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: February 4th, 2025

Description: Pyro version of Blabber Mouth

Notes: CW surprise pregnancy in Thoma's part I considered adding Lyney but, I wanted to keep it consistent and he's 17. Which, I thought he was the same age as Childe?! Him and Lynette being 17 makes more sense, but, ya. Gaming is somewhere between 18 and 20?! Kind of thinking I should have just done everyone... Anyways, no pronouns but reader can get pregnant.

Hydro Dendro Cryo Pyro Anemo Electro Geo

Back to directory

Diluc

I think, as head of his family he always figured kids were in his future

I imagine he has business partners bugging him about it

But he doesn’t give it too much thought until you get married

And then he’s got a nursery planned as soon as you decide you want children

He’s worried that he won’t be a good father, but he holds your baby everything kind of clicks for him

Definitely wants at least two kids

Despite everything that happened between him and Kaeya, he has fond memories of their early years and hopes your kid can have the same thing

You’re actively trying for a baby when you get pregnant, but you’re not checking every week

So you get busy, and it’s winter so you think you’ve just caught a bug if you’re having morning sickness

Your first kid comes over one evening before Diluc puts them to bed

They kiss your stomach then ask to be picked up

Diluc short circuits until your first born asks for a bedtime story

He’s so happy

Thoma

He likes the thought of having kids, but he’s very focused on his service to the Kamisatos

Once you start to settle down together I think he gets baby fever

Sees kids around festivals and in the streets and is just like, yup

Your first is planned, and he knows he wants more because he had a few siblings on his own

I think you agree to have another eventually, but when you actually get pregnant it’s a surprise

Love Thoma, I think he’s a very cautious person, I also think he’s a bit reckless when it comes to you

And he’s kind of like, what are the odds

Not zero, that’s for sure

Ayaka is babysitting your first born while you and Thoma go on a date

And when you pick them back up later, they run to you instead of Thoma

He’s so shocked, you think he might cry, but those tears quickly turn to happy ones as your kid showers your stomach in affection

He did the same for his siblings, so it clicks for him pretty quickly

Picks you and your kid up and spins you around, loves being able to hold his entire family at once

Gaming

Definitely wants kids, he’s totally a family man

His dad definitely asks when you two are gonna have kids, Gaming tells him you’ll get there when you get there

Encourages your kid to follow their dreams, has led to interesting moments when their dreams include being a rock

Teaches them the Wushuu dance and lets them “help” with deliveries

It’s one of those days that your little one spills the beans

You just think you’re a bit under the weather or about to start your period

Your little one barges into the house with Gaming on their heels as they return from a delivery

They skip over you and go straight to kiss your stomach

They’d been kind of clingy before leaving, and now with how off you’ve been feeling it kind of clicks

Gaming picks you both up and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling

Your kid scolds him for not being careful

He’s overjoyed

#researcher s's notes #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #genshin impact thoma #thoma x reader #genshin impact gaming #gaming x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #genshin impact headcanons #fluff

105 notes · View notes

hotchs-bitch · 2 months ago

Text

Cold December Night- Part 1

AN: Here it is, folks! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it <3 In true T fashion, it's named after a Michael Buble song (yes, a Michael Buble Christmas song. I'm done defending him). Find it on ao3 here, or under the cut!

Happy reading <3

Stockings are hung with care The children sleep with one eye open Well, now there's more than toys at stake 'Cause I'm older now but not done hoping

“No, Marcus! Fuck you!”

Hotch’s gaze darts towards the clock on the wall opposite his desk. 7:28pm. He’s usually the only person in the office at this hour, but he’s certain that he just heard an exclamation from the bullpen.

He straightens up in his seat to go investigate the noise; the motion-sensor lights of his office flicker on, and the bright LED is harsh compared to the warm orange lamplight he’s been working under. How long has it been since he last moved around?

Instead of thinking about that, he stands up with a stifled groan. He isn’t as young as he used to be, and these long nights of doing paperwork hunched over sitting on office chairs is certainly starting to catch up with him.

What else is he supposed to do? Go home and be alone during the holidays? Jack is old enough to have some say in the custody agreement, and he made it clear that he wanted to spend the next few weeks with Haley.

It had hurt, especially when Jack refused to tell his dad why he made the choice. It was like a knife through the heart, but it didn’t compare to the feeling in Aaron’s chest when he spoke to Haley about it.

“He’s afraid you’ll have to work. He doesn’t want to be alone on Christmas,” she had told him, as warm and empathetic as she had ever been, but it didn’t stop Aaron from feeling the knife in his heart as it twisted around.

He didn’t want to think about that, so he worked. He stayed late, worked long hours and took on extra consults, doing whatever he could to avoid his empty apartment that didn’t even have a Christmas tree or any decorations up.

And apparently, he isn’t the only one staying late tonight.

“You’re a piece of shit, do you know that?”

The voice rings out again, and Hotch approaches his office window. His door is wide open, but he can’t see anyone in the bullpen below. When he steps out of his office, he starts following the voice as the tirade continues. Down the steps into the bullpen, towards a cluster of desks tucked out of view of his office.

“We were supposed to go tomorrow. Tomorrow, you asshole. What the hell am I supposed to tell my family? What should I say to my mother?” There’s a brief pause, followed by a scornful laugh. “You wish. Merry fucking Christmas.”

Just as Hotch turns the corner and sees you drop your phone on the desk, he hears a sob. A weak sound, like you aren’t sure you want to make the noise but have to let it out anyway.

Oh, great.

Hotch prided himself on the interpersonal relationships of the BAU, between the other agents and with himself. Maybe he wasn’t exactly friends with the agents on his team, but that was fine. There was still a mutual respect and trust, one that he relied on in the field and did his best to maintain.

Except with you.

He didn’t really know why, truth be told. You had been warm and receptive upon first starting at the BAU, and it had been a nice few weeks. But overnight, for a reason Hotch didn’t understand, a switch had flipped. You started brushing off his greetings, ignoring his offers of coffee when he made a fresh pot, and generally leaving him feeling disrespected.

The exception, and the reason he hadn’t filed any kind of complaint about your behaviour, was fieldwork. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine, and you never disregarded his theories the way you brushed off his opinions on things as simple as the weather.

In the field, you could read each other’s minds. But the second your bulletproof vest came off, Hotch felt like he transformed back into someone you couldn’t care less about. Like the unit existed in Cinderella, and he turned into a pumpkin at midnight.

Despite it all, Hotch still tried to respect you and even to get along in the office. He didn’t treat you any differently in or out of the field, but with time and your repeated rebuffs of his attempts at friendliness, the attempts faded away and were replaced with a quiet acceptance that you just didn’t like him. As long as you didn’t disrespect him in the field, he knew it would be fine.

So when he comes across you in the bullpen, tucked away and sobbing into your hands, he has no idea what to do. Should he try to comfort you? Sneak back to his office and pretend he never heard a thing?

The decision is made for him when he shifts slightly and his knee pops audibly, a result of sitting the way he has been for hours.

The sound gets your attention, and you barely turn your head. It isn’t the confrontation he was expecting from you finding him eavesdropping, but your reaction makes more sense when he hears your voice.

It’s ragged, and tired. You sound defeated. “How much did you hear?”

Hotch keeps his voice low, quiet, hoping that his tone can calm you a little. “Not much. Cursing aside, just that you have to go somewhere tomorrow and don’t know what to tell your mother.”

He must be right, because you heave out the sigh of the century. “She’s always right. Do you have any clue how annoying that is? She hates every guy I date, and we fight about it, and then he turns out to be an even bigger douchebag than the guy before him. I was an idiot for thinking she’d be wrong about Marcus.”

That’s one family annoyance Hotch has never had to worry about; his father wasn’t right about a single thing in his life. “Marcus… is that your boyfriend?”

“He was. And then he got arrested for having sex in public.” It takes a half-second for Hotch to put together the pieces, but you fill him in just to be safe. “And it was with someone else. Obviously. He just called me to bail him out, and I told him to go to hell.”

Aaron can’t hold back his wince. “I’m sorry. Are you going to be alright?”

The scornful laugh he heard earlier punches out of you again, and you shake your head. You’re still turned away, but it’s easy to see when you rub your eyes. “We were supposed to visit my family for the holidays. They always make such a big deal out of it, too. I didn’t bring someone two years in a row, and you would have thought the world was ending. They were so happy I was bringing Marcus. They’ve never met him, only heard stories, and they were excited to actually get to know him. Now I have to go there alone, tell my mother she was right about him, and get silently judged by my extended family for a week. I’m in hell.”

If there’s something Aaron can relate to, it’s family judgement. Later, when he thinks back on this moment, he might blame his next sentence on that. He might blame it on the late hour and his recent lack of sleep, or he might blame it on something more subconscious, like how he doesn’t need to be home for Jack this year. No, not that. He doesn’t want to think about that.

Well, it doesn’t matter what he’s going to blame it on, because he still says it. “You could bring someone else.”

“Right, totally. I’ll just finish up this report and head over to Boyfriends-R-Us.” The sarcasm is dripping off of you, a thin layer to shield the vulnerability and hurt in your voice.

Aaron definitely isn’t going to think about this moment later, when he starts playing the blame game with his past self. But if he were to think about it at all, he would recognize the way his stomach clenches when he hears your voice crack, exposing the raw hurt under it. The way he sympathizes with that hurt, and wants to make it go away.

“I could help you out.”

It’s the first time in all the conversation that he sees your entire face; you turn around in your desk chair, giving him an incredulous look. You look vulnerable, upset, and he thinks he can detect a flash of hope in your eyes before you blink.

“What?”

“I can come with you. I’ll pretend to be Marcus–you said no one has met him yet—and you don’t have to tell anybody what happened for a few months, if you like. It’s a win-win.”

If you’re curious about how it’s a win for Aaron too, you don’t question it just yet. Later, when you think back on this moment, you might blame it on that. On your own curiousity, wanting to know why he’s willing to be out of the state on Christmas and why he looks so vulnerable while he waits for you to answer.

It doesn’t really matter what you can blame it on, though; not when you stick out your hand to shake his, think ‘consequences be damned’, and say, “Deal.”

Next part >

Series masterlist | My masterlist | Join my taglist

Taglist: @crowfootwrites @abschaffer2 @jaspxr @angelfxllcm @nathanbatemanfucker @ssamorganhotchner @sadgirlml @sunshinemunchkin @wheelsupkels @laurensprentiss @allthefandomstogether @pandorasdreamings @hotched @hotchnerxo @multiverse-mxdness @rousethemouse @nevillescomslut @itseightbeats @justreadingficsdontmindme @reidselle @mojo366 @criminallysuperhamilfan13 @anlin2058 @realdirectionx @feedthemadness-sweetie @greg-montgomery @hausofwhores @red-red-rogue @nd264 @mrs-ssa-hotch @victoiregranger @alexxavicry @lover-of-books-and-tea @storiesofsvu @jaeminsmilk

118 notes · View notes

theesterianempire · 7 days ago

Text

I'm Okay, Really - Spencer Reid x Y/N - Part One

You’re okay, really, aside from a lack of concentration, not sleeping, not eating, striving for perfection but always falling short.

You’re okay… really…

This is a Criminal Minds rewrite of a Flash fan fiction I posted to Ao3 a good five years ago. If you have read the original, I promise it’s not stolen, it is my work. Also, if you have read it, this one is quite different, even if it starts off in a similar manner. If you want to read it you can find it on Ao3 under els_fictions with the same title.

Trigger Warning: Eating disorders, anorexia, calorie counting, calorie tracking, bulimia and other eating disorders, fainting, hospitals.

Word count: 1633

Chapter One

“Y/N......?”

“Y/N.....?"

“I uh what?” You asked sheepishly looking up to see Hotch looking over you.

“Have you finished the Jenkins Report yet?” He enquired with a stern face.

“I... yes... here it is.” You said handing a folder to him.

You rubbed the back of his neck nervously as Hotch started flipping through the report.

He then looked up sighing..

“Y/N this is shocking." Stated Singh.

“What?” You asked confused as to what was wrong with it.

“It’s littered with so many errors. Now do it again. I want it by tonight”.

Hotch walked off.

Great you thought. No lunch for me.

About half an hour later Spencer walked over to your desk.

"Hey Y/N,” he spoke cheerily, "You coming for lunch?" He asked.

You didn't even look up from your computer.

"I'm sorry, I can't I've got to re-do a report for Hotch." You replied.

“Oh… okay…” He responded, “Do you want any help?”

“No. Its fine.” You brushed him off, “Thank you though.”

“Any time," Smiled Spencer as he left.

You sighed running his hand through your hair. You couldn't concentrate and your hair was slightly matted with sweat.

The evening soon came around and you still wasn’t done. There was no way you could stop for dinner now. Hotch needed this file. It was important.

The next day followed a similar pattern. You were half awake at work. Hotch asked you to re do a case file. You would go without lunch and then again without dinner.

The day after was the same. Soon the week was the same. Then the month. It wasn’t long before you just didn’t feel hungry anymore so you didn’t care that much. Eventually Hotch started to lay off but even then you didn’t go back to eating normally. After another month of this you almost stopped completely. You weren’t hungry so why should you eat is what you told yourself.

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you there?” Asked Garcia over the phone, “Y/N? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here,” You replied. You were leaning on a wall for support after almost fainting but you were fine. You knew you were.

“Ok.” Garcia responded skeptically, “Well, I’ve sent the information you need to the iPad.”

“Okay, thank you Garcia,” You smiled ending the call before walking back into the office where the team was set up.

“Y/N, did you speak to Garcia?” Emily asked, stepping towards you.

“Yeah… She uh… she…” Fog clouded your brain as you tried to respond.

You moved your hand to rub your face.

“She uh… She…” You tried again.

“Y/N?” Emily called, “Are you okay?”

You moved your hand from over your face and looked up but the world was tilting around you. However, as you braced to inevitably hit the floor the impact never came. Instead you felt the warm embrace of someone next to you as you were quickly rushed to the couch a few feet behind you.

You went to look up at the team but a strong hand was on your back, forcing you to keep your head between your legs.

“Just breathe.” You heard Spencer command… so it was him next to you, you realised.

After another minute you felt your brain fog lift and the dizziness leave you.

You slowly looked up.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked from where she stood across the room.

“I… yeah.” You muttered, “Anyway, Garcia sent the info she found to the iPad. It looks like Jacob’s is a match.”

“Okay. Lets bring him in,” Hotch commanded looking to Morgan, Emily and JJ.

You went to stand up but Hotch quickly turned to you,

“You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, “You are to stay here until we get back.”

“But Hotch I…” You tried to argue.

“That’s an order, Y/L/N.” He said before leaving the room.

You sighed as Emily shrugged apologetically at you before leaving the room followed by Morgan and JJ.

Spencer stood up slowly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said quietly, “But we’ll be back soon.”

You nodded gently as he left with the rest of the team.

Once you were alone you were over come with a crushing sense of frustration. You angrily ran your hands through your hair, tugging at it slightly. How could you be so stupid? How could you be so weak in front of all of them? You were better than this.

It didn’t take long for the team to return, Jacob in tow. It was a pretty simple case once you’d gotten hold of his name from an old assistant of his. Then with the information Garcia gave you it was easy to track him down along with a plethora of evidence that he was stupid enough to leave lying around his house.

Before you knew it you were landing back in Virginia, making your way back to the bull pen. It was just a quick stop before you could get in your car and drive home. However, just as you were picking up your keys from your desk, Hotch called out to you.

“Y/N, my office, now.” His tone was stern,

You briefly looked around at the rest of the team but none of them would meet your eyes. You felt a horrible sense of dread bubbling up inside of you as you made your way up to his office.

You entered his office and slowly closed the door behind you. He was sitting behind his desk, he didn’t even look at you as you sat down opposite him. Nor did he glance up from his paperwork as he began talking.

“Y/N, I’ve arranged for a physical to determine whether you are fit to be on this team.” He stated simply,

“What?” You snapped, “Hotch, I…”

Hotch looked up at you.

“In the field you’ve been slipping. You’ve been disorganised and unfocused which having a negative impact on the team. Until the physical you are written off on sick leave, following that until you are deemed fit to be in the field you will be assigned desk duty.” He explained bluntly.

“But Hotch…” You tried to argue but he cut you off.

“You’ll be emailed the details of when and where the physical will take place.”

You went to say something but he cut you off yet again.

“That will be all Y/N.” He said, gesturing to the door.

You wanted to argue, to plead your case but it was pointless, you knew that, so instead you just stood up and made your way out.

You made your way through the bull pen, snatching your keys from the desk, not even stopping when Emily called out your name.

You were out of the building when it all caught up to you, tears welled up in your eyes and began cascading down your cheeks.

You stopped, letting yourself sit down on the steps as you sobbed uncontrollably.

“Y/N?” A voice called out to you, as someone sat down next to you.

You quickly wiped your eyes before turning to see Spencer next to you.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, his voice wavering slightly for a reason you weren’t privy to.

“I’m fine, Spencer.” You assured, wiping away more tears.

“You don’t look fine, Y/N.” He replied, “You haven’t looked fine in ages.” He added barely above a whisper.

You snapped to look at him, “Whats that supposed to mean?” You shot back, vitriol thick in your voice.

“Y/N, I…” He began but you stood up.

You barely glanced at him, “Goodbye Spencer.” You spoke coldly as you made your way down the steps and towards your parked car.

You were halfway home when the anger faded and you were left with a deeper feeling of self-hatred, if that was even possible. You would have cried if you had the energy to do so but right now all you wanted was your bed.

As you entered your apartment you felt that unwelcome grumble deep in your stomach. You considered all of your options, you could ignore it and sleep… but sleep was unlikely due to that annoying grumble. You could eat something for the first time in a few days… but that wasn’t helpful, it would undo all of your hard work and right now you needed to be more in control than ever before… you could have some coffee… but… actually, no… coffee was good. That would work.

You set a pot to brew while you prepared your mug and got the Splenda out of the cupboard. All of this on auto pilot, it was habit by now, feel that grumble, make a coffee, feel sad, make a coffee, feel happy, make a coffee. It was a coping mechanism really.

You poured your coffee and made your way to your room. You debated showering but you really didn’t have the energy so you threw on your pyjamas before settling into bed. You went to set your alarms before you realised there was no point. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to be the next day anyway. You placed your phone on the side and picked up your notebook from just next to it.

You flipped to the most recent entry and dotted down your coffee and how much Splenda you’d put in it before closing it and settling back against your pillows, coffee in hand and you just sat there, sipping away, enjoying the warmth that spread through you with every swallow.

Before you knew it you’d finished your coffee. You placed your mug on the side, enjoying the lingering warmth it left you with. You let your eyes close for just a second but soon enough a dreamless sleep enveloped you.

Part Two:

#criminal minds #fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x reader #yn fanfic #fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #x yn #tw depression #tw eating issues #tw an0rexia #tw ed ana #tw ed not ed sheeren #tw bul1m14

89 notes · View notes