#girl you are so tabby cat...................
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kashverse · 8 hours ago
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hihi another request, can you do one where babykuna is spending a day with her uncle choso? it could be anything really, go to a park or play salon or baking or painting or even play dress-up! i could see choso making a custom matching outfits and kunapapa is just jealous he doesn't have a matching outfit with his baby girl.
thank youuu <3
if there is one thing choso understands in his line of work as uncle "chocho" to babykuna, it’s that every single day is a grind. not just in the business sense—no, no, no. this is the real world, where survival depends on working hard and playing harder.
and by "playing harder," he means getting absolutely swindled at the mall by a six-year-old and her unhinged ideas.
in the span of 24 hours, babykuna and choso now have:
matching deftones t-shirts—except the album cover of ‘around the fur’ has been horrifically swapped out with a 0.5x picture of babykuna's face, making her look like a cryptid mid-screech.
matching temporary tattoos—$20 per spray-on tattoo, an absolute scam, but babykuna had sparkly eyes when she picked out the designs, so what was he supposed to do? say no? ridiculous.
freshly painted nails—babykuna’s nails were pink with tiny skull stickers; choso’s were black with glitter. because, in her words, “you need to be sparkly and scary, uncle chocho.”
choso had just accepted his fate, proudly wearing his t-shirt and admiring his nails, when they walked through the front door.
enter sukuna.
sukuna, who had one expectation when his brother babysat his kid: to not be personally attacked by what he sees when he gets home. instead, he’s greeted by his daughter parading her new drip and his brother-in-law looking like a deftones fan who got lost in the hello kitty section of a hot topic.
“what. the. fuck.”
babykuna threw her arms up. "PAPA! LOOK!" she twirled around, showing off her custom t-shirt with her own terrifyingly distorted face. “we MATCH!” sukuna’s eye twitched. "oh, do you? huh. isn't that nice. isn't that—ABSOLUTELY UNFAIR."
choso blinked. "uh."
sukuna gestured wildly at babykuna, then back at choso, then back at babykuna. "why do you match with ‘chocho’ but not me?!"
babykuna gasped. “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE RIGHT!” choso, sensing danger, took a defensive step back. “listen, man, she—”
"shut up, choso. shut the fuck up, choso." sukuna rubbed his temples, betrayed. "first, my own daughter—MY OWN DAUGHTER—matches with my dumbass brother before me, and now you’re telling me that i��m the only one without a stupid ass t-shirt?!"
babykuna, to her credit, looked genuinely apologetic. “papa… i can make you one too?” sukuna sighed dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. "oh, now i get a t-shirt. now."
babykuna nodded earnestly. "yes! with an ugly picture of you, just like me!"
choso let out a quiet snort. big mistake.
sukuna turned to him immediately. “what the hell are you laughing at, you glittery dumbass?” choso, who now regretted his entire day at the mall, cleared his throat. “...nothing.”
sukuna exhaled through his nose, like an aggressive bull preparing to charge. "where’s baby? at least he wouldn’t betray me like this."
that was when baby the orange tabby casually walked by, decked out in a tiny version of babykuna and choso’s t-shirts, tail flicking behind him like a king among peasants. sukuna's soul left his body.
"YOU DRAGGED THE CAT INTO THIS?!"
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crescentofthegods · 2 days ago
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ALL TOO FAMILIAR!
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pairing: harry potter x fem!reader
request: cormac gets a little too touchy, but harry finds you just in time.
word count: 2,084
warnings: FLUFF, angsty bc cormac is a DOUCHE, cormac being weird creepy touchy etc, few swear words, not proofread!!, (lowkey suck at warnings pls tell me if i've missed anything)
author's note: OH MY GOODNESSSSS i haven't uploaded anything for like two years straight i sincerely apologise to all of my followers please forgive me. i also apologise to the anon who sent me this request bc i took so long to freaking answer it😭😭😭 feel like this is RUBBISH but i hope you all enjoy! xx
taglist: @floweringrott ♡
more harry potter | masterlist | navigation
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THE GREAT LIBRARY had always been a solace to those who required it. Especially to you, who found comfort in the smell of parchment since Hogwarts’ supply seemed to always be fresh. The quiet lull of the area managed to put you in a state of peace too, the way everyone’s voices resounded to whispers and murmurs rather than loud babbles of laughter. There was nothing wrong with laughing, of course—it just happened to be distracting. You were actually waiting for someone, both of you having the intention to study. In front of you was your Potions revision; you were simply making notes on Everlasting Elixirs, taking your ideas from your copy of Advanced Potion Making. Crumbs of strawberry cheesecake lingered on your tongue since you had come straight from lunch, eager to get these done for Slughorn so you could finally rest. Your fingers were clasped around your favourite quill, your spare hand keeping your parchment still as you quickly wrote down every thought your mind was firing at you—
            “There you are!” a voice snapped you out of your reverie, your body going slightly rigid, reluctantly lifting your gaze to see the last person you wanted to converse with. “I’ve been looking all over for you…”
            He never gets the hint, McLaggen. Always stalking following you, always standing outside every room you exit, always loitering too close whenever you’re trying to get back to your House—never taking no for an answer. Everyone knew you as the quiet girl, rarely taking part in things like extracurriculars or school clubs. For the life of you, you could not figure out why Cormac had suddenly become… interested.
            You kept to yourself just because it was a personal preference, you barely had any friends—you were a loner.
            And that was how you liked it. Being a people person had never been your thing entirely.
            But, Cormac didn’t seem to get that.
            “Really?” you replied, your tone almost resembling the bored purrs of your very own tabby cat, who was probably lounging around in your dorm, messing up your pillows…
            How you wished you could be in her position right now.
            “Yeah…? You sound so unsurprised,” he bit his bottom lip, the light of his green eyes dimming when he noticed how quickly you stood up. You almost felt bad… Though, you remembered the way he disgustingly pursued Hermione Granger a few moons back and, fleetingly, shook all feelings of regret from your body; Cormac McLaggen was a creep.
            “Haha, right…” A half-assed chuckle escaped you, clearing your throat as you shoved the remnants of your work into the new satchel messenger bag you bought before beginning sixth year. Discerning the dire, hardened gaze of Cormac falling upon you never failed to make you shudder inside; his eyes were always so intense. So scrutinising. So… unnecessary?
            “So, uh… Potions,” Cormac began, attempting to look unbothered at the sight of you slinging your bag off your shoulder. “Wait—are you leaving already?” A sigh stumbled from your lips, your fingers moving to tuck the shorter strands (the ones that fell from your ponytail) behind the broad space of your ear, praying to Merlin himself for an escape route.
            “Yeah, um, my cat—well, she…” Kill me now. “She’s… alone in my room,” you tried to explain, pushing your chair under the desk you sit at on a regular basis, refusing to even glance Cormac’s way. “And she probably misses me—” His scoff interrupted you, your eyes flitting towards his expression, seeing the smugness in his bemused smile—what the fuck?
            “Your old, moody cat, the one that slumps around every window seat she can find, misses you?” Cormac laughed, his hand cradling his chest like he found himself funny. “This is the first time I’ve heard an excuse like that.” All you did was furrow your eyebrows, confused as to what he was implying.
            “Are you… insulting my cat?” You asked, genuinely perturbed because of his peculiar behaviour. Perhaps you were being a little peculiar yourself, but was this Cormac’s way of flirting? It made no sense whatsoever. Anyhow, your words seemed to knock some sense into the Gryffindor, regret latching onto his countenance. You were quick to turn away, murmuring an almost noiseless ‘excuse me’, speeding walking out of the library like nothing had happened.
            Legs moving as fast as they could, Cormac was right after you—he, annoyingly, had quite the Beater’s build. 
            “Wait! I’m sorry—I wasn’t insulting your bloody cat!” He always seemed to persist, much to your misfortune; Merlin, he was thick in the head. When you turned your head back around, you almost tripped, unable to comprehend how he caught up to you in seconds. “I-I was just saying that your excuse for leaving was rubbish—”
            “I’m just busy, alright, McLaggen?” you brushed him off, trying to muster up a polite smile, but it vanished from your face immediately when Cormac grabbed your arm, roughly pulling you back—a spasm of pain shot up your arm and whilst it only lasted for a moment, it still caused you to freeze, the light in your eyes disappearing entirely.
            The light in his brightened.
            “You don’t seem busy,” Cormac mumbled, his digits firm and enclosed around your flesh like a vice, your gaze lifting to his once again. Why were you always looking up? It made you feel… wrong. Like you were submitting yourself to him. McLaggen.
            He would like that, wouldn’t he?
            “McLaggen,” you said his name, your voice quiet; an eerie sort of quiet. He didn’t say anything, studying you for a moment. Suddenly, you wanted the laughter of those pestering first years, the bellows of the fourth year boys, the giggles of the third year girls to wrap around you like a blanket—you would prefer any sort of noise over the gratingly abnormal silence wafting over the empty hallway.
            The one time I don’t want to be alone.
            “You’re still calling me McLaggen? I thought we were way past formalities,” he uttered (moreso questioned), the Gryffindor’s expression changing to one of irritance, his jaw ticking as he tried to maintain his smile. He looked like he was about to barf all over his new fancy boots his father got him.
            Whatever his father’s name was.
            “Uh… No,” you retorted quite bluntly, irritation overwhelming your expression in response. Who did he think he was? “Now, if you could please let go—”
            “I don’t understand what the problem is, though,” he interjected, again, his perplexity at the situation making you want to explode as you opened your mouth to speak, but Cormac was faster. “I just want to talk. We’re having a conversation and you just walk away?” His grip tightened minutely, but it was enough to make you wince, pain submerging your irritation away.
            “Ow—Cormac, you’re hurting me,” you struggled to remain confident, feeling a sense of dread engulfing your body, your mind, your soul.
            This position was all too familiar. That same thundercloud hovering over your heart, waiting to strike where it hurt the most. Even though it was protected by your lungs, your ribs, your flesh—the thunderclaps were enough to compel the chambers of your core to quake.
            “Oh, don’t be daft,” he mumbled, rejecting your plea. “You’ll live.”
            “Listen, we can talk, but can you just let go—”
            “She said let go.”
            An abrupt, deep voice broke the uncomfortable tension between you and Cormac, his grasp loosening perceptibly since he was caught. Inhaling sharply, you took your chance to rip your arm away from him completely, stepping back, rubbing your arm as your eyes stayed downcast.
            Calm down, calm down, calm down—
            “Potter.” What? Hearing Cormac’s one-word mutter led you to look towards the source of the original voice, your eyebrows crinkling in relief when you saw him.
            Harry.
            You were supposed to meet someone in the library… That someone was Harry. During the course of the year, you had been struggling to keep up with Slughorn’s lessons and Harry, kind as always, offered to help you (you didn’t know about his little cheat notes from the Half-Blood Prince and he intended to keep it that way). However, you had left early because of Cormac… prompting Harry to go look for you.
            “Thank Merlin,” you breathed, your lips pressing together when Cormac turned towards him.
            “We were just talking,” he ‘clarified’, but his words fell on deaf ears.
            “Didn’t look like it,” Harry said simply, and you took this moment to actually examine your friend. He was still in his school robes, of course, the infamous Gryffindor crest plastered upon it. His glasses rested on the crook of his nose, his blue eyes unblinking, fixed on Cormac. Jaw clenched, as was his fists. Lips pressed together in annoyance, unlike yours which were pressed together in embarrassment.
            Embarrassed because you couldn’t believe Harry had found you in this position—unable to fight back.
            You could’ve sworn there was a glint of murderous intent within the emerald hues of his eyes; even from a distance, you noticed everything about Harry.
            “Well, we were,” Cormac stated in his matter-of-fact tone, angering you further—but, Harry had it covered. It genuinely baffled you that they were both in the same House.
            “Oh, just—come off it,” Harry scoffed, pushing past him to get to you—he had been the person you wanted to see at the Great Library.
            Not Cormac McLaggen, but Harry Potter.
            But, why? Even now, as he approached you, you felt those thunderclouds morph into wisps of the sun, warmth blooming in your chest as his fingers delicately brushed over your arm, specifically the bit where Cormac had grabbed you so roughly. For some reason, Harry’s touch didn’t disgust you like Cormac’s did.
            It was because he was your friend… right? You didn’t know Cormac like you knew Harry.
            You didn’t know anyone like you knew Harry.
            “You alright?” He asked softly, his tone changing so he didn’t frighten you further; you weren’t frightened per se, but he knew situations like this made you uncomfortable. Conflict. Arguments. Loud voices…
            All too familiar.
            “Fine,” you murmured in return, grateful for how the pads of his fingers massaged your flesh, the pain which had formerly bloomed now beginning to dissipate. Lowering your gaze, Harry turned his head to see if Cormac was still standing there like a fool.
            Thankfully, the creep took one look at Harry’s six-foot-form and fled the scene, probably wanting to maintain his golden boy reputation. He may have been taller, but Harry—
            Everyone knew what Harry was. Who he was.
            A few moments passed. Both of you just stood in the vacant hallway, your expressions paired with… serenity. You preferred silence. As did Harry, especially with the Dark Lord penetrating his mind every damned hour. You didn’t know when you developed this dynamic with him out of all people—others, girls to be precise, would wonder how you ‘bagged’ the Chosen One, how you managed to get him to pay attention to you.
            But, that was the thing. You didn’t do anything.
            “We were supposed to meet at the library,” Harry spoke, his voice synonymous with the stillness of the atmosphere, his lovely eyes trying to meet yours.
            Eventually, your eyes left the floor, trailing up his uniform—his broad chest; the Adam’s apple of his throat; the sharp contour of his jawline; his rosy-coloured, heart-shaped lips; his hawk nose—and then, finding his two orbs. They reminded you of the sea, his eyes. His black pupils were like jagged basalts, a form of rock, fixed within a circle of the Atlantic. They were quite pretty, actually.
            You preferred them over the dull green of McLaggen’s eyes.
            “I got… sidetracked,” you murmured in return, nibbling your bottom lip as Harry’s hand left your arm—you almost swallowed your disappointment, but you thought too soon, his fingers finding yours instead.
            Intertwined they became.
            “I know,” he whispered. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
            “You couldn’t have known,” you were quick to reply, a little surprised that he was apologising. Yet, Harry simply shook his head, a small, soft smile finding his even softer lips.
            “Actually, I think I did.” You furrowed your eyebrows, having no choice but to follow him as he began the journey back to the library, where you were supposed to be all alone. “I just… had a feeling. You know—when your chest gets all clouded and… your heartbeats start sounding like thunderclaps.”
            Oh.
            Merlin.
            “Mhm…” you hummed, looking away, your cheeks flourishing with delightful shades of red. “All too familiar.”
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thank you for reading!
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mrjester27 · 2 days ago
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I drew Tabitha and Tugger when they grew up and Tugger has more mane than Tabitha or smt
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Tabitha is the name I gave to the character of tabby girl, an assembly cat
Which oddly enough in some versions looks quite similar to Bald tugger lol
I imagine she and tugger come from the same litter, With her being adopted by an elderly lady who fed outside cats and called her "tabby girl"
When she was adopted, the lady put a bow or a little scarf on her(?
They are both similarly dramatic but Tabitha is not so above the clouds so to speak. Eccentric and flirtatious, she is the representation of the girl you meet in the store with a super cool outfit while you went in pajamas because you were lazy
Lesbian
She and her brother fight but then join forces to be super annoying to Munkustrap.
She doesn't understand why Tugger isn't interested in Bombalurina like-DAYUM💥💥
custard cake and red velvet cake vibes
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rollaut · 20 days ago
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orion = kibby. optimus = bnuuy. i believe i've made myself clear.
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thatoneluckybee · 1 month ago
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I’m just gonna brag on my current Clan’s genepool because?? THEY’RE SO PRETTY AND FOR WHAT??
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asdro · 1 year ago
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They hate each other but Franccesca loves trying to cuddle with Valentina (she has been closer but today she's playing safe)
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bi-writes · 4 months ago
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how would arguments go between simon and MOB? i imagine he would never dare raise his voice at her.
simon does not argue with his wife. if you are in danger or something is wrong, i could see him using a little bit of his lieutenant's voice just to get you to listen to him. to "get behind me" or "i'll take care of this, you go." otherwise, there's no resistance. none at all.
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"you know, simon, i..." you stop at the door, swallowing. you rub a hand over your forehead, shaking your head. "i...i-i really don't want to go."
he shuffles in his boots, staring at you carefully. you're all dressed up; you've got a new dress on (that he bought you, eagerly), and you've done your makeup. you clutch your purse with clammy hands, and he narrows his eyes when he sees the tremble in your bottom lip. he clears his throat, taking his jacket off. he removes his boots quietly, scratching the back of his neck as he comes close to you to take your bag and hang it up by the door again.
"okay," simon murmurs. "then we won't go."
he doesn't tell you about the cancellation fee.
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"'ello?"
"simon!"
he startles awake this time, holding the phone closer to his ear. the sheer anxiety in your voice cuts his gut sharp.
"wot? wot is it? wot happened?"
"i--i totally...i screwed up, simon--oh, god, i'm so sorry--"
"oi!" simon says firmly. "wot happened?"
"i...i'm at the shop, someone was going to back into me, so i swerved, and--"
"fuck," simon breathes. "are ya olright?"
"the car, it's--"
"not wot i asked," simon interrupts you. "are ya hurt?"
"w-what? i..." you sniffle. "no. i'm okay. just a little sore, i guess..."
simon lets out a deep breath, shaking his head.
"i'm coming," simon says lowly. "you stay there, baby. don't move."
"but, simon, the walk is--"
"i'll see ya in twenty."
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"oh, no, no, no, no!" you gasp. the orange tabby's head perks up at the sound of your voice at the door. she's got one of simon's masks in her mouth, and even from this distance and without the lights turned on, you can tell the fabric is shredded to bits. it's all over the floor, scattered across the couch, flecks of lint in her fur.
"oh, god, how could you?!" you panic a little. she must have gotten into some kind of drawer or basket or the laundry, because as you start towards her, she darts away, leading you across the house where you can see shreds of more masks and simon's socks strewn about the house. "oh, no!"
the front door closes heavy. when you come into the living room, simon is there, dropping his gear onto the floor. he looks tired--his shoulders sag, and you can see his eyes half-lidded and barely opening.
"simon, i'm...i'm s-sorry, she--"
you're holding his tattered clothes, but before you can say anything more, he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs you so tight. you nearly lose your breath from how he crushes you to his chest, and you let out a quiet whimper when his knees buckle and he falls to the floor with you, cradling your head to his chest and kissing your forehead through the mask over and over.
you're here. you're real. you're alive.
you drop the shredded fabric and hug him back, closing your eyes as you breathe him in. he tips your head back finally, ripping his mask off and kissing you hard.
he doesn't care when he sees the orange cat take a bite of his thrown mask and run away with it.
he can buy a million masks. but his girls--he pulls back from your kiss to stare down at you, intense. he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, camping on different rooftops just to track a shipment, and when that bullet whizzed past his head, all he could think about was you. the cat-bitten plants. the warm food. the cherry dress. some things cannot be replaced.
some brides cannot be ordered again. they don't make them like you.
you are one of a kind.
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simpingforheros · 4 months ago
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Jason’s Wife?!
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Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader
Summary: Meet Mrs. Todd?! Jason got eloped and he doesn’t intend on sharing his blushing bride just yet.
Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Established Relationship, Eloping, Jason being an ass to his family (for good reason), Jason calling Reader Ma (can’t remember who wrote about that, please tag them because I love this headcanon), P in V, unprotected sex (don’t advertise for the unsafe sex, put some breading on yalls chicken before dumping it in oil) , Oral (m receiving), Body Worship, Phone/Facetime during the deed, Exhibition Kink, Mating Press, Slight Breeding Kink, Degradation, Praise, crying kink??,TOXIC-ish And POSSESSIVE! Jason Todd is back, Traumatizing Dick again.
Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the praise I got on my last Jason Todd Fanfic! I didn’t know you guys would like my first smut that much so I made a part 2. Enjoy your next fix you horny bastards (jk I love you guys )
AN: This is Part 2 to Jason’s Girl??, so go read that for some context. Also a quick shout out to the mutual who started my spiraling decent into his madness, @jjenthusee , who was the main inspiration because of their amazing artwork! Also I’m sorry this was late and I don’t update as often, I’m in my second semester in a health major and I’m stumped man. I’ll update when I can I promise.
A/N: Part 3>>> Jason Broke What??
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Jason Todd is a lot of things. He’s known for bad things and good things. It depends on who you ask.
A menace, a murderer, a zombie, an asshole, etc.
A son, a brother, a hero….
But there’s two things everyone can agree on.
1). He’s a good boyfriend.
For the last 6 months since Jason finally revealed his secret girlfriend of two years, the Bat Family learned just how much of a better person Jason was when (Y/N) was around.
His voice was softer and kinder to others. His temperament was more patient and his fists stayed loose. Her presence acting like a balm to sooth his soul as soon as he feels her comforting hand on his skin.
There were obvious moments of trouble, such as little squabbles or one gets snappy at the other, but normally they sort it out. Even if Bruce and the rest of the family didn’t know her for long, they knew that she had the backbone to handle Jason and give him what he needed without babying him.
Jason even shows his love for her in goofy ways, such as wearing matching shirts or color coordinated outfits. The two are now known for their Friday date nights and lazy Saturdays where they don’t wanna be disturbed. Their late night rides or their silent evenings where either a book or controller is in hand.
Red Hood is known for lingering around certain streets where she would be at when she had to work late, and he always had a bottle of water or granola bar he ‘mysteriously appeared’ out of thin air.
Jason was known for being proud of building the healthiest relationship he’s ever had with someone who didn’t fall in love with him because he was Bruce Wayne’s son, or Batman’s protege. She fell in love with Jason Peter Todd and all he was.
Which leads to the one thing that the family also knew him for.
2) Jason Todd would not tell anyone when he dropped down on one knee and asked (Y/N) to be his wife.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The proposal was a spontaneous to say the least.
Their usual Saturday routine of laying on the couch, too exhausted from the week to move. Jason laid on the opposite side as his beloved, her feet dangling off to the side of his hips as his own rested behind her shoulders. They both had a book in as they enjoyed their silence. The only noise coming from the soft patter of Frank coming over to lay on his adopted father.
The tabby cat that Jason claimed to not like despite the male cat clinging to him like glue. The cat jumped onto his stomach with a deep groan emitting from him. A soft giggle filled the room as she sets her book down and pulls the feline to her.
“I still don’t understand why my cat likes you more than me.” She comments as she strokes the tabby’s fur.
Jason scoffs as he carefully rolls off the couch and onto his feet. “Probably to spite me.”
He heads to the kitchen to grab them a drink as he hears one comment that seemed to change everything in one second.
“What’s gonna happen when we have a kid? Would you think they would prefer you over me or would we have another Frank?…”
The question was a hypothetical one, a normal one couples would ask just to make sound in the air. Jason would have probably answered light heartedly with a kiss or a smart ass comment to make her laugh, but it felt different. He felt different.
There wasn’t a ‘if’ in the question like it would or wouldn’t happen, but a definite of ‘when’ it would happen. Jason knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Hell, he managed to not fuck up a relationship he kept hidden for 2 years. He knew he wanted to marry her the moment he decided to open up and let her into his life by moving her in and introducing her to his family.
So, even if it was on an impulse, Jason returns back into the living room and as he placed their drinks on the coffee table as he kneels on the floor beside the couch. (Y/N) sits up as she smiles at him, unaware of the decision he made.
“Penny for your thoughts, Todd?” She asked playfully as she offers him an imaginary penny in between her pinched fingers.
Jason smiles as he takes her out stretched hand before kissing the back of it.
“Marry me.”
The seriousness in his eyes made her playful attitude dissolve to disbelief.
“What?…”
“I wanna marry you, (Y/N)…You are the everything I could ever want and don’t deserve. But I can’t imagine building a life like the one we have with anyone else. You are one of the few lights this dark world has and I wanna love and protect you for the rest of our lives.” Jason explains as he nervously massages her hand as his eyes shined with deep love and affection. “Even if I don’t have a ring yet and we are in our pajamas, will you accept me and let me become yours forever?”
Tears streamed down her face as she nods frantically. Her arms quickly wrapping around Jason’s neck and pulling him into a kiss.
Jason melts into her and begins to move to be on top of her on the couch until a sharp hiss makes him stop.
“Quiet, Frank…” Jason grumbles at the cat.
“Daddy is trying get some sugar from Mama~”
+++++++++++++++++
A week later, Alfred appeared extra peppy for the day. His duties were quickly done before the family was awake and his fidgeting gotten everyone concerned. Alfred was the normally level-headed gentle hand of the house, so seeing him so giddy made everyone nervous.
It wasn’t until he surprisingly left in one of his better suits and a gift bag that the rest of the Wayne Family just decided that he may be going to an event or some kind.
“Where do you think he’s going?” Tim asks his younger brother from behind a book.
Damian shrugs as he says, “How should I know?”
The answer wouldn’t come until later that evening. Alfred came back with both the brightest smile and red swollen eyes. In his hands were a single pale pink rose and a camera as he scurries to the study.
Tim, Dick, and Damian, who were scattered around the living room, followed out of curiosity. What’s gotten Alfred this way? An old flame? The thought of Alfred getting down and dirty made the boys shudder before they continue to the study and ultimately down to the Batcave.
“Yo, Alfred.” Dick calls out as he exits the elevator.
Alfred stood by the large chair over looking the Batcomputer as Bruce’s hulking form peaked over the leather. The clicking of the mouse playing in the background as Alfred turns his head to address Dick.
“Yes, Master Richard?” He says. In his hand was the camera with cables connecting it to the computer.
“Where have you been? You kinda left in a hurry…”
Tim jumps in as he says, “I mean, we aren’t trying to be rude, but you did seem kinda jumpy this morning.”
Damian’s words cut through the other two like ice as his eyes look at the monitor.
“Did Todd and his woman get married?”
Dick and Tim look back at Damian before their shocked expressions look up to the monitor. Their eyes widen in disbelief at the image before them.
Standing in a suit was a an absolutely beeming smile was Jason Todd with his hands interlocked with (Y/N), who was wearing a white dress. The dress didn’t look like the traditional floor length gown. Instead it was a backless chic dress with a bow on the back. Her hair was down and decorated with pearl ornaments as a matching ribbon choker was around her neck with a single aged pearl on it.
In their interlocked finders, a familiar set of rings shined . Martha Wayne’s sparkling diamond engagement ring and her wedding band was on (Y/N)’s finger as a matching wedding band was on Jason’s finger.
The surroundings didn’t look like a typical wedding venue with flowers and ribbons with a crowd of people. It was a courthouse, Gotham City Courthouse. On (Y/N)’s side stood Alfred holding a pale pink bouquet that was most likely the bride’s. What surprised them the most was a smiling Bruce on Jason’s side, a look of pride on his face that he rarely shown.
The boys break out of their shell as Dick complains.
“This can’t be real… Jason and (Y/N) got married without telling any of us….AND YOU LET JASON HAVE MARTHA’S RING!!” Dick snaps as his irritation grew. “You said I was gonna have it.”
Bruce sighs as he says, “I said that before you cheated on both of your girlfriends with each other.”
Alfred chuckles as he says, “And Master Jason specifically stated that he only wanted me and Master Bruce there.”
Tim frowns as he asks, “Why weren’t we invited?”
Alfred gives the boy a sympathetic look before reciting, “Miss (Y/N) and Jason only wanted a small ceremony and off what he said, ‘Damian makes (Y/N) uncomfortable when he calls her Jason’s woman and a distraction. Dick is plain out not invited because of reasons he knows why. And Tim can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life, so he’s not invited.’”
Damian tsks as he says, “I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyways.”
Dick was flustered as the images of the incident Alfred was referring to. He still can’t get her moans out of his head…
Tim pouts and says, “I’m gonna remember this…But why was Bruce invited then?”
Bruce responds with a smirk , “Because I was asked to give away the bride.”
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
As soon as the newly weds returned their apartment, the lust sprinkled down like hale. Her well manicured hair was now messy as his hands held her head. His mouth devouring her moans as her own lips kept up with his pace.
Her fingers desperately removing his tie as the shrilling ring of Jason’s cell phone fills the air. He ignores it in favor of trailing tongue against his bride’s as she slings off the tie.
“Gonna answer that?” She mumbles as his mouth begins to trail down her jawline. Jason doesn’t answer as his hands scoop up under her thighs to pick her up. Her giggles were music in his ears as he says,
“It’s probably just Tim or Dick. Probably bitching about the wedding…”
Jason carries his wife through the threshold of their apartment hallway as his lips remained on hers. Their vows sealed in teeth and tongues as he expertly guided them into the bedroom.
His phone finally stopped ringing as he places her on the bed. Hands groping and pulling off of clothing as he unwraps her down to her underwear and stockings. His mouth hot against her breast as she pushes his now unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders.
His other hand dipping into her underwear as he flicks her erected nipples like a guitar. Her sweet music filling the room as he’s met with a creamy cunt under her white thong.
“Fuccck, ma..” He moans against her breast. Jason pulls away with a devilish smirk as he runs his finger over her sopping folds, carefully avoiding her hole and clit. “I can’t tell what I like more…your pretty tits or your sloppy cunt…”
(Y/N) feels the wave of shameful arousal fill her stomach as she whines out, “Stop teasing me, baby. It’s our wedding day and you’re acting like a jackass…”
Her body jolts as he pinches her clit. Her hips jerking as she moans at the sensation. Jason had a look of faux sympathy before mumbling against the valley of her breasts.
“Oh, you’re right…” His voice barely audible to her as he begins to rub heart shaped patterns on her clit, making sure to dip down to her gasping pussy as he dips down. “I’m not acting like a good husband, ain’t I? Let me make it up to you, Mrs. Todd.”
His lips attached to her unabused nipple before his middle finger finally dips into her pulsing hole. His groan accentuated by the scraping of his teeth against her sensitive flesh. The feeling of her cunt sucking his one finger in making him light headed as her moans ringed out.
“Jason…stop teasing me…I want you…” She begs as her hips try to meet the thrust of his finger. He growls at her bossiness before yanking his finger out of her pulling her panties down her thighs.
Her eyes glared at him for the loss of stimulation before he quickly pops her pussy lightly. The wet slap of skin making her cringe in embarrassment before Jason begins to leave a trail of open kisses and bites down her body. Making sure to pay special attention to the matching tattoo on her hip before he mumbles to her with a lazy smile.
“Your wish is my command.”
Before he could dig into his meal, the shrill ring of his phone invades the space. He yanks his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen before declining the call. He tosses the phone onto the bed as he glares at the offending device.
“Stupid Dick..” He groans before a soft hand on his face draws him back to her. Her gentle touch bringing peace to his mind as she pulls him up to press a soft peck to his lips.
His mind goes blank as she gently lures him to stand before she kneels down, trailing kisses down his exposed chest and his scars. Her love poured into his body as her lips traced his autopsy scars. Her eyes shining so pretty as she presses an extra long kiss to his matching tattoo on his Adonis belt.
The silent vow that was made a year and a half into dating on a drunk night out with Roy.
‘I am hers and she is mine’
“Let me be a good wife to you, Mr. Todd.” She whispers against his skin. Her breath like hot fire before her hands snake off his belt and trousers. Her mischievous eyes gleaming in lustful delight as Jason’s lip curls in between his teeth. His eyes almost glowing as she presses her warm lips against his clothed tip. His hand fisting into her hair as he hisses at her.
“Don’t you fucking tease me…”
*RING* *RING*
Jason glares at the phone before he snatches it up. He sees the familiar notification as his own image shown on the phone. FaceTime.
“Answer it.”
“What?” Jason asks in confusion before looking down to her. His surprise was suppressed with a hiss as she pulls his hard cock out of his underwear. Her hand lazyily stroking him as she gives him a look of faux innocence.
“Answer it. It’s rude to ignore family..”
Jason feels a smirk curled onto his face as he realizes what she wanted. His dick hardened to iron as he remembers why he fell for her.
She was just as fucked as he was.
With that, Jason schools his face as he answers the phone with an annoyed expression.
“What?” He says as the image of his brother appears on his phone screen.
Dick glares at Jason before snapping at him. “You got fucking married?! Without inviting any of us?!”
“Didn’t Alfred tell you why we didn’t want you guys there?” Jason asked in as much annoyance as he can muster as he felt the wet pull of lips around his cock.
His hand gripping her hair kept her from getting more than his tip in as he hides his reaction. Her tongue licking his tip like a kitten wanting milk.
“But we are family for fucks sake.”
Jason’s actual annoyance getting the best of him as he hisses,
“I’m sorry, but I recall you trying to fuck my wife.”
“THAT WAS BEFORE I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HER!!”
Jason becomes distracted as (Y/N) starts sucking him off. Her drool and his precum slowly beginning to coat her mouth and hand as it strokes what she can’t fit into her pretty mouth.
His brow furrowed as his pleasure and annoyance started to mix on his face. Jason decides to get some payback on both his wife and brother as he slyly mentions.
“Oh but you had no problem rubbing one out when I sent those videos.”
He pulls her closer to his pelvis to muffle her surprised moan. If he wasn’t on the phone, he would degrade her like a slut with how she acts when she remembers being recorded. Her cheeks hollow as Dick’s jaw drops as Jason mentions the videos.
“I-I..”
“Admit it.” Jason says, his voice grew more taunting. “You probably still jack off to the videos because you’re nothing but a loser who cheats on any good woman he gets because you’re scared of attaching to someone.”
Jason can feel her eagerness grow as she sucks harder, actually pulling him as deep into her throat as she can. He almost wanted to both laugh at how cute she was as she gagged around him and coo at how proud he was of her. Her jaw was gonna be hurting like a bitch either way.
Dick’s baffled expression almost made it better as his eyes shined with shame over what Jason knew to be true.
“That’s why Bruce gave me Martha’s ring.” Jason says as he forces (Y/N) to take him all the way down her throat. Her nose pressing into his light patch of black hair as Jason says. “fuck…I can fuck (Y/N) like I fucking hate her guts and she would take it because she knows I would rather swallow glass than fuck anyone else like I do her. To even love anyone halfway as I do her would be a sin…”
The fluttering feeling of her throat as her nails digged into his thigh affirming his conviction.
“I’m not afraid to get attached… As long as she lives, I’ll never let her go…”
He hangs up before Dick can respond as he yanks her back by her hair. Her coughing and gasping for air as she whine painfully at both the lost of his cock in her mouth and the painful grip on her scalp.
Jason releases her hair before kneeling beside her on the floor. His expression tender as he cups her face. Her light makeup look from the wedding was now smudged off with her mascara flowing down her face with her tears. Her lips puffy and wet from his assault on her mouth. Her body littered in forming bruises from his teeth. Her cunt sloppy and leaking a clear sheen down her thighs. Her cheek leaning into his palm as her eyes shined at him with nothing but love and desire.
“Fuck…” He groans before crawling inbetween her legs as he pushes her to lay down on the floor. His mouth back on hers as his throbbing erection lightly dragged against her fluttering pussy. The head catching her clit despite the watery resistance as she whimpers into his mouth.
“You look so pretty like this…” Jason says before sticking his tongue down her throats. Their tongues tangling for a moment before his hands cup her face and pull her away. “You feel it, don’t you?”
She whines as his hips rolled against hers. Her cunt angry as it fluttered around nothing. His nearly red dick twitching as it desires salvation in her temple as Jason breathlessly whimpers.
“Feel how bad I need you baby? Fuck I can’t stand it. I wanna fuck you every day so I can see you look like this.” He says as he wraps his hand his member. He slaps her pussy with it twice before dragging his head over her entrance, the heavy appendage dipping in slightly as he says.
“I wanna ruin you so good. You’re such a good pretty girl that I want to ruin and make as fucked up as me…”
Her gasps fill the room as he starts to bully his tip into her. Even though they were both well experienced with each other, every time she takes him feels like the first time with that delicious stretch.
His unusually talkative mood doesn’t let up as he pushes his hips into her, forcing her to take him.
“You’re so gorgeous…” He whispers as he pulls her legs over his shoulders as he grasps her hips, forcing them up as he starts to fill her to the hilt. “God, this pussy is unbelievable…gonna fill her up everyday and eat her out every night…”
His thrusts start off slow but hard as her hands desperately held onto what bit of Jason she could as he fucked her like a doll. Her whimpers and moans filling the air as the sticky sound of his balls smacking her ass.
His hot breath tickles her ears as his hips develop the torturous pattern of pistoling into her like a hard buck before rolling in a deep and filling thrust. Her eyes filling with tears and brain fog as he filled her lust sick brain with praise.
“Such a good little wife…a sweet little thing with a nice soft body for me…” He groans as his pace becomes brutal. His precision and memory impeccably beats anything he learned as a vigilante as he assaults her G-spot. Her eyes rolling back as lighting strikes her the brain as she begins to cry.
“Fuck. Fuck. fuck…” she sobs incoherently as Jason licks the tears off her face.
“You look so hot when your cry…” Jason moans as his thrusts start to become more sloppy. His reaches between them as he rubs tight circles on her clit as he thrusts harder into her soft cunt.
“Will you cry some more please?” He’s asked in a cruel tone. His eyes blown out with desire as he lets his full weight pin her down under him. His added weight making her pinned as she cries. Her stomach tightening at the overwhelming presence of him and his cock destroying her insides.
“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Ma…” He says as his own whimpers fall through. “Gonna watch you get swollen and carry a little perfect baby and know that you’re mine…that no one can love you like me… ain’t that right?”
Her impending orgasm blocking off all rational thoughts as her mouth hangs open. His hand pulls from her clit to her frustration and grabs a hold of her jaw. Forcing her to look at him as he says harshly.
“Who do you belong to ,Pretty Girl?”
Her eyes widen as she says, “You…I belong to you baby…”
Jason smirks as he starts thrusting faster. Her shrieks just music in his ears as she falls off the edge. Her vision clouded as white flashes in her vision. Her body nearly convulsing as her cunt squeezes Jason into his own orgasm. His warm seed flooding her quivering womb as he presses a kiss into her neck.
The pair remained still for a moment as they gasped for air. The natural chill of the room causing them to tremble at the stimulation. Her small hand moving first as she grabs his hand, her fingers playing with the gold band on his finger as she whispers.
“My husband…” A soft satisfied smile on her lips as Jason grins widely into her neck as he mumbles.
“All yours, Mrs. Todd.”
**********************
AN: Yea I didn’t know how to end this. 😭 I hope you guys like it because I’m not too sure if the smut is good or not. Let me know what you think as I’m trying to clear out the drafts. Again, Thank you @jjenthusee for inspiring these two fanfics and for being a great mutual.
*******************
@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE THEFT, COPYING, REPOSTING, AND PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK ON THIS SITE OR OTHER SITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION.
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strawberrykidneystone · 12 days ago
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your hot neighbor sevika pt. 2
a/n: AHHH TYSM FOR THE LOVE ON PART ONE I REALLY LIKE THIS SERIES IM GLAD YALL DO TOO <333
part 1
a week later, after silco reluctantly had one of his goons trail you when sevika asked, she got your name
damn, you had a very pretty name
after work, you went behind the apartment building as usual to fill up the bowls with food and water for the stray cats
and wash the blankets in the cat houses if they needed
but someone had beat you to it
there she was, sevika making a scrunched up face as she opened a few cans of wet food for the eager cats surrounding her
you practically swooned at the sweet sight, hot and good with animals? what didn’t this woman have?
she brushed her hands off and stood up straight, finally making eye contact with you
“hey there pretty girl”
you giggled and crossed your arms, glancing down at the cats enjoying their food, “ ‘re you a cat mom now sevika?”
“always have been, though someone else feeds them sometimes, guess i share custody,” she said smoothly with a wink, bending down and scratching down the back of an orange tabby
“wow, sharing custody and you haven’t even taken me out yet.”
sevika stood back up to her standing height, basically towering over you as she leaned in close, “well i know a way to rectify that, y/n.”
you raised an eyebrow with a smirk and looked up at her so that the two of you were practically nose to nose, “yeah? is that the prize you want for getting my name ‘vika?”
“i’m thinking of a much sweeter prize,” she practically purred and tilted her head, her lips so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath against your own lips
you looked down at her lips and bit your lip, glancing briefly off to the side, “here? in front of the kids?”
sevika snorted and half smirked, her lambret piercing tugging to the side as she did, “im not about to let a few cats cock block me.”
you laughed and shook your head, throwing your arms around her neck and pressing a deep kiss against her lips that she immediately returned, wrapping her arms around your waist
one of your hands felt up the fuzzy side of her undercut and pushed your fingers through her hair, causing sevika to groan against your lips
she squeezed your waist and pulled you closer, your chests pressed firmly against each other as the kiss got deeper
just as you bit sevika’s bottom lip to shove your tongue in her mouth, one of the cats coughed up a hair ball
what a mood killer…
the two of you laughed it off, you explaining that the cat was unofficially named smoky since she coughed like a smoker (sevika laughed a little too hard at that🤨)
sevika cleared her throat and looked down into your eyes, “so… i’ll pick you up at 8?”
“8 it is,” you said with a smile, holding your hand out to her
she took your hand with her flesh one and laced your fingers together, walking into the apartment building
she walked you to your front door and the two of you shared a small peck before she walked back to her own apartment to get ready for your date
you swore that she was walking with a spring in her step that wasn’t there before
the date goes well and the two of you live happily ever after with 20 cats weeeeee!
taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sevikasfan @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month ago
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Surgery: Christmas
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: Christmas with Cub
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"We could get her another cat?"
"We're not getting her another cat!"
It's strangely difficult to find ideas for Christmas presents to give a little girl that's only obsessed with cats, the washing machine and baking.
Your mothers can't exactly buy you your own washing machine or an electric mixer or, god forbid, another massive cat for you to carry around and insist isn't fat, isn't a complete monster or isn't the absolutely worst enemy of your mothers.
One of those worst enemies, your incredibly fat tabby Garfield, sits on the kitchen counter attempting to bat open a box of cereal to feed his never ending hunger.
Mapi and Ingrid ignore him, knowing that sooner or later this burst of energy will leave and he will amble off to a sunspot so he can nap away the rest of the day.
"Mami!" A call comes from your bedroom. "I'm stuck again!"
Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "Just a minute, cub! I'm coming!" She turns back to Ingrid. "Definitely a no to the cat?"
Ingrid sighs. "No more cats."
"Just trying to make it easier on us!"
"Go and help our kid put on her t-shirt. I've got this."
But Ingrid very much doesn't have this. It shouldn't be this difficult to find a Christmas present for you but you're such a content kid. You've already got toys and the tv and the washing machine and the cats.
There's not really much else you want or need.
You're no help either, of course, because when Ingrid asks, you just reply with a simple:
"Er...I can get more time in yours and Mami's bed?"
So, it was very clear that you didn't quite know what you wanted for Christmas either apart from, clearly, curling up in Mapi and Ingrid's bed with them and probably kicking Mapi in her sleep.
Ingrid spends weeks stewing over what she and Mapi could get you. They'd gotten you a few throw away things like a new yellow digger after your last one fall off the balcony and smashed into the pavement below and a cute little necklace that doubled as identification with things like your name and had Mapi and Ingrid's numbers on them in case you ever went missing in a crowded area.
In the end, it's Frido that comes to her and Mapi's rescue, throwing out an idea at random during lunch when Aitana takes you up to the buffet to find some chicken.
It's a throwaway comment but with Mapi and Ingrid struggling to work out what else they could get you, they cling to it like a lifeline. They're fairly easy presents to source, something that Ingrid is glad for because she's cutting it abnormally close to Christmas day to get everything sorted.
"Mami..."
There's a crackle on the monitor that has Mapi stirring awake.
"Maaaami."
Mapi counts to ten in her mind before rolling out of bed, kissing a still sleeping Ingrid on the cheek and making her way out to your room.
"Merry Christmas, cub," She says as she pushes open your bedroom door," I see you've got company."
All of the cats seem to have migrated to your bed overnight.
Garfield, as usual, is laying on his back after (presumably) being used as a stuff animal for most of the night. Bagheera sits by your feet, grooming herself primly while the monstrous León-León stands nearby, tail flicking from side to side as he stares.
"We had Christmas cuddles," You say happily," And now we have the gingerbread?"
"We'll have to wait. Mama is still asleep."
"Why?"
"Huh? Why is Mama still asleep? She's tired."
"But why?"
"Because she was busy making sure everything was good for today."
"But why?"
Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "You know what, let's go eat that gingerbread. Then we'll go and get your Mama."
You wiggle happily all the way to the kitchen, where Mapi lifts you up onto the counter so you can have a breakfast of the gingerbread you and Ingrid made last night and so Mapi can stop you from running into their room before Ingrid is awake enough to function.
The cats come running in as soon as they hear the rattling of their dishes - though Garfield kind of lumbers in, far behind León-León and Bagheera but still manages to steal most of the food.
Mapi does a pretty good job of stopping you going for the presents until Ingrid finally gets up, a nice warm mug of coffee waiting for her and an overly excited child trying to shove some gingerbread into her mouth.
"Tha-Thanks, Cub," Ingrid laughs as she pushes away one of your sticky little hands from where it's trying to shove biscuit into her mouth," But I'm fine with my coffee."
"It's good," You say through your own full mouth and Ingrid laughs.
"I know because it was made by us, with lots of love." Ingrid kisses the tip of your nose. "But really you should eat it all yourself."
"Really?"
"Really-really," Ingrid insists and you giggle, kicking your feet happily as you finally settle on her lap, sprinkling gingerbread crumbs everywhere as you move.
Garfield, as he always does whenever there's food to spare, comes ambling over to eat them all up.
Usually, Ingrid would scold him but Mapi's coming over with presents and she decides that even the cats can get away with things they usually wouldn't today.
"Are you ready for presents?" Ingrid asks, bouncing her knee so you burst into a round of giggles.
"Presents!"
Mapi and Ingrid exchange triumphant looks as you tear open your presents.
Your new ID necklace is placed snugly around your neck immediately, ready for in case you get lost during the walk your mothers have planned later that day.
You take great delight in placing your new yellow digger with all of your other construction toys in the corner of the room next to your little wooden set of tools.
"Mama! Mami! It's CAT!"
It's truly a surprise how many CAT themed things the club has managed to make in such a short amount of time. It's even more surprising just how much stuff they can buy for so cheap a price with their team member discounts.
But, perhaps the most surprising of all is how much the club was willing to just straight up give to them in return for just a few pictures of you with CAT the mascot.
It's not shocking to the staff and fans alike who the biggest CAT fan is and, while you do regularly appear on Mapi and Ingrid's Instagrams, it's a rarer feat to see you featured on the team's.
But, with just three pictures of you with CAT and a very cute video of you nearly taking the mascot of their feet in an attempt to hug them, Mapi and Ingrid received a bundle of CAT merch in return.
"It is CAT," Mapi laughs," It's a t-shirt with CAT on it!"
"And a keyring! And a new mug!" Ingrid continues as you rip open your presents, getting more and more excited the more CAT things you see.
"CAT's my second best friend," You tell Mapi and Ingrid earnestly in the next hour as you all take a nice walk together through the park.
"Oh, yeah?" Mapi says," And who's your best friend?"
"You and Mama," You reply.
"Oh, cub," Ingrid coos," That's so swe-"
"And Bagheera and Garfield and León-León."
Mapi laughs. "There it is."
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cosmicalily · 1 month ago
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"taking what's not yours" a minho oneshot by @cosmicalily
"you know where to find me, and i know where to look." - 'taking what's not yours' by tv girl
author's note: oh can you tell im falling in love with the exes to lovers trope more and more by the day?
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“Lee Minho, what the fuck are you doing in my house?”
Minho looked up innocently from where he was sorting through the pile of vinyl on the floor; eyes bright, expression blank. His hair was longer, darker, and the tip of a tattoo peeked out of the neckline of his black hoodie. And fuck, if he wasn’t just as, if not even more beautiful than he’d been when you’d last seen him. Those soft lips, the ones you’d leave bruised and bleeding after frenzied makeout sessions backstage during their first tour. The ones that stretched into a smirk as he noticed you staring.
“Was ‘Who Really Cares’ your vinyl, or mine?” He asked casually, still filing through a stack of records.
“Mine. And you didn’t answer my question, Minho.”
“What happened to ‘baby’?” Minho pouted playfully, patting the spot on the rug beside him. You sighed and shuffled over, looking at the small pile he’d gathered on the floor in front of him.
“‘Baby’ was replaced when you had to move onto the next city for your tour,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “What are you doing back here?”
“Didn’t you miss me?” Minho persisted, taking his eyes off the vinyl and turning his body to face yours. “Leo did, that’s for sure. All over me the second I stepped inside. He missed his Dad.”
You took notice of the cat fur that littered the black fabric of his hoodie, resisting the urge to smile. “Leo likes everybody. He’s a friendly guy.”
“He likes me the most. And you. You’re his mama, after all,” Minho tapped the wooden floorboards with his fingers, causing Leo to look up from his food and wander back over to him. The tabby cat purred, rubbing himself on Minho’s sleeves affectionately.
Fucking hell, that smirk.
“So you’re just here to take back your records?”
“And you too, if I can manage it,” he added, smiling at you. It wasn’t the same shit-eating grin he used to give you when you’d whine desperately during a kiss, but genuine. Soft. He leaned in close, leaving Leo wandering off at the loss of attention. “I missed you, sweet girl. Surely you missed me, just a bit?”
“Maybe,” you whispered, taken aback by his sudden change in proximity.
“Yeah, well, I’m home now, baby,” Minho smiled again, moving one hand to gently caress your cheek, the other to your exposed waist in your cropped black tank top.
There were so many questions to ask him. It had been a year since Lee Minho had left your town to go on tour; something that both excited and pained you at the time. Along with Hyunjin, Chris and Changbin, he’d formed a rock band, and they’d worked their asses off to take off enough to leave town. When, after years of playing at shitty venues, their first legitimate tour was finally announced, everyone had naturally been ecstatic. Minho had spent hours with you that night, nibbling hickeys into your neck until the early hours of the morning, loving you rawly and unabashedly. You had to be pulled out of the passenger seat by Chris, where you’d been sitting on Minho’s lap, making out with him desperately, his hands moving all over your body.
“You guys are disgusting,” Hyunjin had whined.
“And you’re gonna make us late. Give her a hug, Minho.” Chris had added, gently tugging your body off Minho’s. His hands had clung to your waist for as long as possible, and now, as you sat beside him, a full twelve months later, you still felt the ghost of his touch.
“Chris met a girl. Moved back to Australia,” Minho said, as if reading your mind. “Without him, everything just kind of crumbled. But Jisung’s mum offered me a job working as a guitar teacher at the nearby school, and the kids are so cute.”
“So you’re home now?”
“As long as I’m with you, baby,” Minho smiled.
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taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie - comment, dm or send an ask to be added
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januaryembrs · 11 months ago
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NEARLY BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [2]
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Description: FIVE times Spencer thinks he might like you + the ONE time he knows.
Word length: 20k
Trigger Warnings: death, murder, Lauren arc, spencer's addiction mentioned, Diana's schizophrenia mentioned, vomit, alcohol, blood, usual criminal mind warnings. mommy AND daddy issues in the prentiss family.
previous chpt | next chpt
‘so sweet with a mean streak
nearly brought me to my knees.’
The one where he tries flirting
Emily tutted at her as the girl blindly shoved the Lucky Charms in her mouth, her tongue staining a gross blue-green colour from the additives as she read from a battered copy of Anna Karenina. Bugsy had been living with her for just two weeks now, since her impromptu fleeing from the altar, and Emily’s certainly had a good insight into the life of the twenty three year old. 
Yes, it was her birthday next week. No, she didn’t act her age anymore than she had at twenty. 
“Bug, slow down.” Emily urged, a rogue orange marshmallow dribbling down her chin as she plunged the spoon in before she’d even swallowed the last mouthful, “You get sick when you eat too fast,” 
Bugsy waved her off with the utensil, not even ripping her eyes away from the page in front of her, scooping up the marshmallow with the side of her finger and popping it into her mouth. 
Emily rolled her eyes, downing a few sips of her coffee and heading for the stairs, knowing her ride would be here any moment and she still had yet to change her shirt from the one she’d spilled toothpaste down not ten minutes earlier. 
“Niko needs breakfast when you’re done,” The older of the two shouted down to the breakfast table, a streak of tabby grey running under her feet at the sound of food. Bugsy had insisted she bring her new feline friend into Emily’s apartment, and as much as she’d hated the way she nearly tripped over the chubby bastard almost every day they’d been here, she certainly had a fondness for him. 
Bugsy hummed in acknowledgement, though she scraped the edges of her bowl clean by the time the cat in question hopped up onto the counter in search of her leftover milk. 
“This is not for you, you have too much already,” She scolded, shovelling the last few sugary pieces of cereal into her mouth right as the door knocked. 
She dogeared her page, gulping down a quick sip of Emily’s coffee, cringing when she caught it was much too strong for her liking, and heading for the door, her sister yelling to her again. 
“Bug, can you get that- wait- are you wearing pants?” 
She certainly wasn’t, having rolled straight out of bed in a pyjama shirt and underwear, and towards the promise of breakfast, nor as she swung the front door to the apartment open before Emily had a chance to rush down the stairs.
Spencer could have laughed when he saw her, all too reminiscent of the first time he’d met her. The boxers that hugged her legs beneath a large top he was entirely convinced was not hers, though her face lit up in excitement to see him. 
“Good morning!” He thrust a coffee to-go into her hand, still warm even from where it had been jostled around in his car.
“You’re my saviour,” She grinned, sipping on the sweet beverage with bright eyes, “Cute sweater vest-” 
She was quickly manhandled behind the door by two firm hands, Emily’s face enraged as she glared down at her sister where she was now out of sight from the doctor. 
“What did I tell you about wearing pants? Huh? You nearly gave Mrs Jensen a heart attack last week,” Emily hissed, as Bugsy shrugged, remembering the look of horror the old woman across the hall had given her when she’d taken the trash out in a hoodie and booty shorts.
“It’s Spencer,” She poked her head around the door, despite Emily’s shoving, like she was taming a wild animal, “You don’t mind, do you?”
He shook his head, an amused and easy smile on his face as he watched the sisters bicker, not entirely unlike the way he and Emily tended to pick at one another. 
“Not at all; I agree pants are loathable,” And he wasn’t lying. He tried to go for looser fitting trousers or sweat pants, hating the way the tight fabrics restricted his legs, rubbed his skin, making him want to itch and squirm inside his body. 
“Don’t you start,” Emily pointed at him, huffing as she stepped out of the apartment, “You know she gets all worked up and weird on sugar,” 
“Hey, I’m the last person to deny someone a coffee,” He replied, and the two turned to head back to his car, not before he threw the younger woman a look over his shoulder and a wave. 
“Go save the world, kiddos.” She waved back, sipping her coffee indeed with bare legs that would have a nun blushing, “Curfews at nine, Doctor Reid, I expect both of you home for dinner!” She nudged the door closed with her hip before Niko could run out after Emily, and Spencer chuckled to himself, shaking his head. 
“See, told you,” Emily sniggered, rolling her eyes, “Weird,” 
Though that wasn’t quite the word he’d have used. 
A killer, so far as they had been able to profile from the four bodies, was targeting women he picked up in night clubs in Atlanta. Most of the team, except Derek, had outgrown the clubbing scene, though Spencer didn’t quite think he’d ever been in it to start with. They all went to O’Keeffe’s usually once a month or so for a quick drink, but it was not big on his list. 
Rossi, Reid and Derek stared at the puddle of blood on the sidewalk, wincing as Emily leaned over the balcony, the five story drop making her tug her lip in between her teeth. 
This woman must have been terrified by something, someone, to see this as a better way out. 
“Maybe she fought back,” Hotch speculated behind her, drawing her attention back to the cleaning equipment scattered over the floor, entirely different to the last three crime scenes where they had been arranged neatly into a triangle, “And when Becky fought back, his routine was compromised, cause he knew the police would respond,”
“Or she could have jumped,” Emily responded gravely, shaking her head at the carpet beneath her boots, “Her nervous system is pumping adrenaline, her fight or flight response kicks in?” Both were equally plausible options, but not ones they had time to entirely pick over. 
“He’s struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine’s been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again,” Hotch said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed deeper than it usually was. 
“It’s Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight,” Emily replied, her eyes sad, worried. 
“Take a look at the classes the Unsub might have taken, we need to generate a suspect pool as soon as possible,” Her boss ordered, and she nodded heading for the door before she stopped, looking at him with a grimace he didn’t quite understand, “What is it?”
“Bugs-my sister used to work as a shot girl in a club.” She said after a moment of thought, “She could smell a rat from a mile away; said most girls who work in bars get this sixth sense about guys with bad intentions, so they know when to cut them off earlier than most,” 
Emily looked at him for a moment, and he seemed troubled, hesitant as she was to even tease the idea to him, before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. 
“Call her in.” He said through an outbreath, gritting his teeth the way he did when he was in between a rock and a hard place. 
Rock being another girl murdered by tonight with a huge opportunity to catch the guy in the act missed. Hard place being a twenty-three year old risking her skin for his team for a third time. He hated the paperwork she brought him, hated the look on her face the day Spencer and Derek had dragged her out of that chapel bloodied and shaken even more. 
“But she wears a vest under her clothes, and she stays with Reid and Morgan,” He reasoned, “And just purely scouting; if the Unsub strikes, she gets out there like any other civilian.”
Emily nodded, her hand routing through her pockets for her phone already, “Couldn’t agree more,” She said, hitting the call button with a sigh. She just hoped this time her baby sister wouldn’t be making any drastic calls like throwing herself in the Unsub’s way. Though, Emily knew Spencer wouldn’t let her take another hit for him ever again. Not after the way he’d seemed so distraught the moment she’d been dragged from that room, his eyes all but glistening with tears when he’d seen her on the bed, bloodied and beaten for his sake. 
No, Emily could stake her life on the fact Reid would go down swinging before that ever happened to her again. 
-
“When you think about the nature of serial crimes, it’s amazing there aren’t more predators in clubs,” Spencer said, hoping the pretty girls he’d managed to snag into conversation didn’t hear the way his voice stuttered. This was so far out of his depth, the entire club atmosphere suffocating him worse than any tight pants ever could. The music was too loud, the heavy bass making him wince, the air was too close, too warm, the bodies that kept shoving past him made him want to shower for two hours straight and then wash his hands as well. He’d turned down the drink Derek had offered him, knowing the exact amount of bacteria that swarmed the ice behind the bar, on the rims of the glasses, on the taps- 
Spencer was more than overwhelmed. And talking to beautiful women was not helping his flushed demeanour whatsoever. 
“I mean, excessive amounts of alcohol, countless opportunities for date rape drugs, not to mention suprisingly risky behaviour being pursued,” He counted off, his satchel strapped tightly to his side, “All right, so who wants a flyer?” The three women turned their nose up in awkward smiles, the tallest pushing past him with little more than an outright scoff, the other girl following her like lost dogs, “Nobody? Okay, all right,” He said, his face crestfallen at their reaction, though he wasn’t so unused to it. Girls tended to react that way when he spoke, his entire high school career had been the same. Infact, the only girl other than his co-workers who ever bothered to listen when he spoke was-
“I’ll take one,” A voice came from behind him, the same one he had incidentally been thinking of since they’d left Emily’s apartment, and he could already tell she was smiling before he whipped around to see her slinking through the crowd. 
He was ready to retort something clever, but felt his words congeal in his throat. He had thought, that day when he’d stopped the elevator and seen her in a sodden wedding dress, that he had seen her at her most beautiful. Yes, her makeup had been tracking down her face with her tears, her hair sticking to her cheeks, her expression weepy. But she had reminded him of a star, glistening with the rain, the water shimmering off the snow white fabric, it had taken his breath away then, even when she’d thrown her arms over his shoulders, as if he was the only thing that she could grab on to for safety. 
But that dress was nothing like the one she wore now. 
It was nothing extravagant, and truthfully he’d seen at least ten girls in this club alone that had gone way more lavish than she had bothered to on such short notice. But, Spencer couldn’t help but take her whole image in as she shoved her way in front of him, an easy smile on her face. 
“Beats boxers and pyjama shirts, huh?” She twirled cheekily, warming under his gaze that blinked heavily at her. The dress had been an old thing she’d bought for a frat party, when she’d felt particularly sorry for herself and was going out looking for a bonehead jock to take home. It fit her nicely, complimented the areas she wanted it to, hid the others. A good fail safe option for a last minute night out like this. Covered the kevlar vest Hotch and Emily had wrangled her into.
Not her finest moment, being jumped on by her older sister as her boss forced the bullet jacket over her head; the new girl, Jordan, staring in discomfort as she’d cursed both of them out colourfully for ruining her outfit, but the way Spencer seemed to gulp heavily made her smile wider. 
“You look…” He swallowed again, his fingers digging into the flyers in his hand. Hot. She looked hot. Hot enough that he felt his face flush with the same feeling, he hoped she couldn’t see the way he blushed beneath the club lights, “Beautiful,” He settled on, because ‘hot’ was an entirely Derek word to use. 
“So you keep telling me,” Bugsy preened under his gaze, grinning like she knew something he didn’t. Grabbing one of the flyers from his sweaty palms gently, she took a look at the general sketch, not noticing the way he had yet to tear his eyes off her, “Alright, this the guy?” 
“Yeah, we think he has a mark of some sort- like a birthmark or a scar over his left eyebrow,” He informed, corralling her towards where Morgan stood, his own eyes widening at the girl’s attire. 
They knew she was coming to help scout the scene, they didn’t realise she’d come so ready. Derek immediately felt stupid for doubting her. 
“Woah, did someone call the fire department, because you’re about to set the damn sprinklers off,” He teased, her face lighting up at the man she knew had a way of making her feel a million bucks every time he saw her. 
Emily said he had little sisters of his own, and maybe that was how he knew just what to say. He had many years of experience being the best big brother. 
“Oh, please, you guys spoil me,” She snickered, though her eyes scanned the crowd for a general scope of the club. Safe to say she did not miss the eight pm till four am shifts she used to pull, nor did she miss the drunk bodies swaying around her, the men who would get handsy, the girls who would get scrappy, “So, how’s it going?” 
“Not good, I gave the profile to one woman and she asked if I was the unsub,” Spencer sighed, running a hand through his rogue curls, the humidity of the stuffy bar making them tighten around his ears just that bit more. “How are you doing?” 
“Well, I gave out all my flyers,” Derek said smugly, though Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a smile teasing at his lips. 
“Oh yeah? How many phone numbers did you get?” Bugsy snorted at his words, looking between the men with a smirk. 
“None, I’m working the case here, kids,” Derek tutted, to which Spencer and Bugsy looked at eachother with identical doubt, flicking their gaze back to Morgan. He huffed, “Okay, four were offered, but I didn’t take any of them.” 
Spencer’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in confusion how Morgan was so charismatic with women even when he wasn’t trying. 
“Alright, I’m gonna go grab more flyers from the van. You,” He clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Need to relax, man. Remind me to teach you the basics on picking up girls. And you,” Derek pointed to where Bugsy nodded patiently, “Make sure wonder boy doesn’t get eaten alive. And stay together.” 
She nodded again, watching him leave through the crowd; already a woman grabbed on his arm for his attention, where she watched him politely decline with one of those flirty smoulders he’d mastered. 
“I don’t get how he does it. I mean, I get he has the whole body of a God thing going for him,” Spencer sighed, as the two of them went back out into the crowd, scanning for a group of girls who looked particularly sober enough to listen, “But, he just has this way, you know. I’ll don’t think I’ll ever have the way,” 
“Don’t put yourself down like that,” She chastised, nudging him affectionately with her elbow, “You’re very beautiful yourself, you know? You don’t need some stupid way, you just need to be yourself,” 
She said it as if it was nothing, as if it hadn’t just hit him in the chest that she thought he was attractive, though he still remembered that first day they’d met when she assumed he was a stripper. 
His heart swelled in his chest. 
“You really think so?” He asked unsure, waiting for her to laugh in his face and tell him it had just been a tease, she was good at those. But she was never cruel. Never to him. He didn’t know why he’d expected it. 
“Absolutely! I’ve seen like three girls already giving you goo-goo eyes. Believe me, you got the looks,” She simpers, watching his eyes scan the crowd to look for the supposed culprits. 
“So, what, it’s my personality they don't like?” He asked, though he knew that was more than likely the case. He’d always been told he buzzed in people’s ears like a fly, like he was simply background noise the greater population wanted to tune out. 
He knew that would be it. It didn’t stop the small stab of hurt in his stomach however. 
“If someone doesn’t like your personality, that is a them problem, Spencer, not you,” Bugsy was quick to snap, the joking lessening in her eyes as she caught his dejected expression, “Girls like it when you talk about something you enjoy, something you know what you’re talking about. Which should be easy, since you know everything. What do you feel most comfortable talking about?” 
“Statistics,” He said with a nod, to which she looked at him fondly.
“Okay, we have statistics as a backup option. Anything else?” She looked at him, the light bouncing off her eyes in a way that had him pause to think. 
“Magic?” He offered, and she smiled even wider, if that was even possible. 
“Magic! Perfect, girls love feeling magical,” She beamed, nudging him again with her elbow, and the two of them walked over to the bar, “Show me then, Gandalf. What moves would you pull on me if I was a girl?”
He blinked at her, “Are you … not a girl?” He asked, pure bewilderment on his face as he stole a few napkins from the counter. 
She snickered, “Okay, if I wasn’t me. If you didn’t know me,” 
“If I didn’t know you, I’d be way too nervous to even talk to you. And you definitely wouldn’t want to talk to me,” He said as he fiddled with the paper between his obnoxiously long fingers, folding the sheets into miniature shapes. 
She chuckled at him, shaking her head. It had never been like this with them before. Sure, she teased him, like she always had, but he was teasing back. Complimenting her with a seriousness beyond just being nice. 
Something was different in him since the day Cyrus dragged her away. And if that hadn’t done it, then seeing her every morning for two weeks had changed the boyish anxiety that had lingered even then. 
“Stop stalling and show me these tricks of yours,” She bit playfully, though the grin she gave him was genuine as she saw something mischievous flash in his eyes. 
“Patience is virtue, patience is virtue-” He murmured, fiddling with the short, plastic straws they kept at the bar, “Now for this to work, I’m going to need a beautiful assistant. Do you think you could find one for me-” 
She smacked his arm, and he snickered. She shook her head, fighting her own laugh overcoming her. 
Maybe she was right. Talking about something he loved made him feel entirely at ease, like he controlled every angle their conversation took, and the air between them had taken this odd electric turn he wasn’t expecting like someone had pumped a thousand volts under his skin.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He replied, holding out one of the straws, about as plain and simple as it would be if it were in a drink, “But I will need some magic words,”
“Ofcourse,” She drawled, her cheeks hurting from how tight she was smiling, “What are they?”
“Magic words are, ‘I’ll be there’” He instructed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves as he watched her frown, and he pointed the straw at her mouth like a microphone, “You got it?” 
“Yep,” She responded, even though the confusion read clear as day on her face. He tapped the straw on her nose and cleared his throat. 
“3, 2, 1,” He tapped it to her temple, then to each of her shoulders, “Go on a date with me?” 
“I’ll be there,” She responded, and in a strobe of light the single instrument became a trio of origami roses, stuffed into the straws as stems. 
Her brain caught up to her as he gently placed them in her hand, her eyes gazing at him like he had just presented her with a 24 carat diamond, though in reality it was nothing more than a silly trick with napkins and plastic. 
“Spencer,” She said earnestly, and he could have sworn her voice quivered for a split second, before she shook her head at him, punching him on the hip gently, “You are the most humble man I’ve ever met. You do that to any other girl and you’re getting laid, I’m telling you,” 
He rubbed his chin bashfully, both of them catching the way the waitress behind the bar watched him with large, blue eyes Bugsy could have bathed in. She was gorgeous, and she stared at Spencer as if she’d been the one given roses. 
Attracted. Interested. 
“Talk to her,” Bugsy whisper-yelled, nodding over to the barmaid who busied herself with another order, though they both saw the way her flicking glances to the two of them as she scooped ice, “She would have seen if a guy like that frequented somewhere like here, talk to her,”
“What- no-” He protested, but his eyes widening as Bugsy leaned over the bar to flag the woman down with that playful charisma of hers, not missing the way a few heads turned as the dress tightened around her ass as she bent forward. 
He felt his chest flash with anger, glaring at the men, hoping it was enough to ward them off. Her hand enclosed around his wrist, drawing his attention back to the bartender who watched him with a sweet face. He had to admit she was attractive. 
“This is my very best friend, Spencer,” Bugsy told the woman, who smiled at him, and the Prentiss girl lifted his hand up to wave at her like he was a ragdoll, “Spencer, wanted to show you something, didn’t you, Spence?” 
Raising her eyebrows at him, nodding to the flyers in his hand. 
“I’m gonna go dance,” She fibbed, knowing she was going to go scout out the crowd to see if any guys fit the profile, nudging him a little harder than before, “Remember what we talked about. I’ll be by the DJ,” 
Grinning encouragingly, he watched her swoop into the crowd like it was second nature, not missing the collection of guys who watched her every move; she captured the room when she moved, when she smiled, when she politely excused herself past a group of girls that tried to pull her into their circle with friendly cheers. 
He did another one of his tricks for Austin, he’d come to learn was the name of the girl behind the bar, but it hadn’t felt the same, not even when she gave him her number unprompted, even as she flirted, smiled prettily, batted those sea blue eyes at him. It wasn’t the same. 
He worried for a moment that the electricity he’d felt was reserved only for Bugsy, but he squashed it down faster than he could confront the idea. 
2. The one where he nearly dies
“I don’t know how to do this,” JJ confessed, her bluebell eyes filled with tears as she stared out of her boss’ office and into the bullpen full of officers, scientists and even the damn military tearing through pages and pages of resources for answers. 
Anthrax. A weapon of mass destruction they’d already had a small dose of, was on the move through the BAU’s own city. And they each had strict instructions to not alert their loved ones. 
“I can’t stop thinking about Henry,” She whimpered through a strong facade as she turned to Hotch, and she saw the same guilt eating him up in those dark eyes of his that rarely let anything slip. 
He had Jack. He had Haley, even with the divorce papers signed so long ago. He had people at risk too. And yet she couldn’t stop seeing her precious little boy’s face as he lay back in his pushchair and enjoyed the sights of the park, the same park that had just been targeted with an airborne disease-
“He goes for a walk almost every single day at Potomac Park,” She sniffed, the nausea chewing away at her brain as she recounted the lesions on that poor teenage girls skin, that's going to be Henry, that’s going to be Will, “What type of mother am I if I don’t atleast call and tell them to stay home?” 
“JJ, we can’t,” Hotch said, though he felt his own dam start to tear down as he tried not to think of what could possibly happen to his own sweet son. 
“I know, but-” Her throat bobbed, “It-it’s not just me- Emily’s worried about Bugsy. She told me she cuts through the park on the way to her lectures- she has one every day this week- Hotch-”
It was true. She had caught Emily in her own turmoil as the woman sped off to grab a drink seconds after chugging down the dose of Cipro they’d all been given that morning. She’d caught her filling a glass of water until the liquid started leaking down the sides and went over her shaking fingers, and even then she’d had to tug her friend out of whatever rabbit hole the words ‘Media Blackout’ had sent her down. 
“I understand you both have people you want to protect,” Hotch was the voice of reason, as he always was, and it stung her to see his face so cold since she knew he was drowning his own sorrows behind it, “But if we all called home and used this information to give us an advantage other people don’t have, is that the right thing to do?” 
She bit her lip, knowing he was right. She just prayed on everything she had Will would stay home with Henry today, Haley would have a movie night with Jack, and for whatever she had seen in Emily’s eyes earlier, a pure, unadulterated self-loathing, that Bugsy at least took the day off teaching.
JJ prayed, and prayed, and prayed. 
She shuffled her notes together as she marked papers at her desk. They let her take the office to herself since she’d been at the University for five months now, gave her free reign of her lectures without having a supervisor like they had the first eight weeks or so. Bugsy enjoyed, surprising as it was to her, the feeling of somewhere that wasn’t the laboratory. Emily and Spencer had forced her to apply for jobs when they caught her binge watching real housewives for the sixth time back to back, of course lacking any bottoms. 
Emily didn’t know why she thought twenty-four year old Bugsy would be any different. They had thought at least that Derek holding her hair back on the night of her birthday party as she threw up copious amounts of jello shots on the sidewalk would be an eye opening moment, but it hadn’t deterred her in the slightest. She had just chucked a handful of gum in her mouth, patted the man on the back and asked Emily to hit up the drive thru on their way home. 
It wasn’t until she got the job did she feel a little bit more responsible, like what she was doing actually affected the people around her. Teaching first year college students was so very different than she’d expected, she was the authority figure. 
She could hear her mother laughing at her now. 
She almost smudged the little smiley face she’d drawn beside one of her student’s B+ as the phone rang on her desk, because she had an office phone believe it or not, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound as grown up as possible whilst also trying not to grin how excited she was to use her new landline. 
“Miss Prentiss speaking, who’s calling?” She said, almost not recognising herself as she squeezed her gel pen in delight. She had this grown up thing down to a tea.
“Hi, Bug.” Spencer’s voice sounded out of breath, and she heard his converse slapping against a linoleum floor fast, as if he was pacing, “I got a quick hypothetical to run through with you,” 
“Y-yeah, sure- Where are you?” She asked, her brows furrowing when he gave a wheezy cough, “Spence?”
“I’m not allowed to tell you, but I’m fine- for now,” He winced as he said the last part, as if it had slipped unintentionally, as if he knew what was coming next. He could practically hear her brain ticking over, “So, when you’re in the lab-”
“What do you mean for now?” She cut him off, standing up from her desk, already collecting her pencils back into their little pink case, “Where’s Emily? Is she okay? Is anyone hurt?”
“Everyone’s fine; as I was saying, hypothetically, when you’re in the lab where would you-” He talked over her right back, his slender fingers flicking through the piles of work, hoping he stumbled on a formula, a sticky note, a damn cheat sheet, anything. 
“Don’t avoid my question, Spencer,” She snapped, and she could already feel the worry lines on her forehead. 
He sighed, hoping she couldn’t hear the way his chest rattled and he choked down a cough. It would only make her worry more. 
“I promise I will tell you what’s going on if you just answer my question,” Spencer rushed, feeling his face growing sweaty, opening the entire cabinet of drawers. “Okay?”
She nodded, biting her nail, as she sat back down. “Okay fine, shoot,”
“Where would you put your valuable items if you didn’t trust your lab partner while the two of you were working together?” He asked, wiping his brow with his sleeve as he held the phone tight to his ear with his shoulder. 
She paused for a moment, “Well it’s standard practice that all jewellery comes off before we get scrubbed, so as not to contaminate anything. I usually put my scrunchie through my rings and tied it back into my hair so they wouldn’t get stolen. I knew some guys who put their watches around their ankles. Basically anywhere we could feel it on us,” 
He cleared his throat again, and she heard him take a few steps, “How’s grading papers going? Did you get a fax machine yet?” 
He was trying to change the subject, trying to take her mind off whatever it was he was doing that required such an urgent and peculiar question. 
“It’s going good, I miss you bringing me coffee; it was like I had a maid who helped me with my crosswords,” She said, biting her bottom lip squeezing her thumb in the middle of her fist to slow the nerves. He tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling hearing that. “Now tell me what’s wrong. Did you go running without your inhaler again? I told you to leave a spare at ours so I could rescue you if you ever-” 
“Bugsy, you’re a genius!” He cried, ignoring the way it made his throat burn, “Remind me to tell you every single day how smart you are- I have to go,” 
“Spence- Spencer-” She tried to cut in, but he had already put the phone down. 
So much for not worrying her, she thought, as she got on the phone to Emily within seconds. 
-
Bugsy all but burst through the hospital doors, apologising when she nearly knocked a stack of files from a nurse's hands, wishing she had an inhaler herself after she had ran all the way from the car park, including the three flights of stairs. 
After calling in sick the rest of the day, and practically volleying her rucksack into the passenger's seat of her car, she had blindly called Emily four more times until the woman answered with a frightened lilt to her voice. 
Spencer was headed to the hospital. Spencer was headed there on full blues with lungs full of an even deadlier strain of Anthrax. Last Emily had heard he was getting worse. Bugsy put her foot down on the pedal even harder. 
She knew the speeding ticket would come any day, and didn't even want to think about the state of her parking. All she cared about the second the lady at the desk had said what room he was in was seeing he was okay, that he wasn’t growing lesions or choking on his own blood or having half of his brain boiled alive. 
Bugsy felt a small spike of panic, if it could even get worse, as she yanked the curtain back to see him asleep, a cannula tucked into his nose, a hospital gown tied over his shoulders. 
Diving for his file that was attached to the end of his bed, she looked through his information to check what meds he’d been given. He once told her he was allergic to narcotics, said he had been since birth, and while she trusted one of the team to have passed the information on, she had to see it for herself that he was stable. 
No narcotics given. Only paracetamol for his fever that was rapidly coming down. She could breathe again. 
She jumped out of her skin when the curtain rail was pulled back a second time, and Derek seemed to startle for a moment too before a tired smile met his handsome face. 
“Where have you been, Baby Prentiss?” His breath knocked out of him when she threw herself at him, a sigh of relief coming from her bitten lips. 
“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” She murmured, and his chuckle echoed through his chest into her ear, “You all worried me half to death,”
“You’re looking very grown up,” He teased as he patted her on the back. And she was. She had taken to wearing maxi skirts and tights, even throwing on a cute blazer for affect, she was the teacher after all. She shoved him away with a smack to the chest. He laughed, holding up the opened pot of jell-o to her face, “Jell-o?”
She gagged, filled with memories of her birthday. 
He shook his head with a smile as she sat down in the seat next to the bed and he spooned the first mouthful of the fruity dessert into his mouth. 
“Is everyone else alright?” She asked, wringing her hands together. She fought back the urge to tuck Spencer’s curls behind his ear, knowing he was sleeping peacefully.
“Stop worrying. Team’s fine; we caught the guy and confiscated his supply. Even saved the last few survivors with you telling Reid where to look,” Morgan watched her jaw feather, and she picked under her nails. 
“I keep telling you guys, I didn’t do anything. I just… spoke to him. He’s the genius, not me,” She said solemnly, staring into her lap with a frown. 
“Not to him. Whole journey back, before the aphasia kicked in, he kept telling paramedics to tell Doctor Kimura it was you who’d figured it out.” Derek said, but it seemed to make her sulk more. 
She said nothing, pulling out her book from her bag to continue reading as she waited for him to wake up, and Derek took it as a sign she was in no mood to talk, god forbid even take a compliment, and opened the magazine he’d grabbed from the cafeteria. 
Half an hour and another pot of pudding for Morgan later (she gagged again at the sweet strawberry smell of it), the pair of them sat in silence, reading their own materials when a very sleepy, doe eyed man looked up and frowned.
“Are you eating Jell-O?” Spencer asked, barely noticing the girl on the other side of the bed, who shot up out of her seat as he came around. 
“Hey doc. You have a visitor,” Morgan said with a small smile, Spencer’s face falling into a frown. He looked to the other side of him, just in time to see a worn copy of Middlemarch being flung to the floor and a hand grabbing his clammy ones tightly. 
“Spencer I’m- I’m so mad at you-” She gasped, every soppy feeling of sadness she’d been stewing in leaving her body when she saw his hazel eyes fall to her, “You put the phone down on me and next thing I know you’re in the back of an ambulance nearly flatlining- I’m so-” 
She breathed when she saw his eyes soften. He didn’t think she knew it but he saw the way her eyes glistened, her voice trembled underneath her anger. He felt the way she had yet to let go of his hand, how nice and warm it felt in his palm. 
“I’m sor-” He hadn’t even finished his apology when she had latched onto him, trying not to hug him too tight but hard enough she could tell herself he was still here. He was okay. 
And he could understand. He’d felt the same when they’d found her in that church, when Cyrus had hauled her away after she’d practically offered herself up in exchange for him. He’d known she was braver than she gave herself credit for, but that had stopped his heart right there and then. He had grabbed her in a hug the first chance he’d got even then, even when he barely knew her, when she was Emily’s sister and not Bugsy. Not the woman he’d spent every morning with for weeks bringing her a coffee just the way she enjoyed it, the woman he’d sat with on Emily’s couch with her legs across his lap as they did the puzzles in the morning paper together. She tried to do them, and he would finish them when she got too annoyed by the ones she couldn’t answer. 
“I’m sorry,” He said, his arms gently hugging her back and he felt something wet on his shoulder blade before he knew what it was. He felt even worse for worrying her, squeezing her tighter than was even comfortable for him. 
“Don’t do that to me again,” She said through tears as she settled in his arms. 
He really hoped she couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded. 
3. The one at Haley’s funeral
She had no idea what to say. Emily had always been the one who knew how to talk to people. She had this horrible habit of saying the first thing that came to her head, probably because a lot of the time it was the most real, and people liked real. 
But now wasn’t the time for what was best for her. Haley Hotchner had been murdered. 
She hadn’t spoken to Hotch yet, she’d only met the man a handful of times. But he’d invited her anyway, for the team. For Emily, maybe even Spencer; Emily said he liked when she was around. She couldn’t imagine any other reason she would be there. 
Other than, ofcourse, to be Spencer’s crutch. Literally. Since his real one had broken and he was still limping around with one knee weakened by the bullet wound in it. 
She’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d called from the hospital, again, though this time he’d waited until he’d gotten the all clear to tell her so she didn’t panic quite as much as last time. She’d cursed him out for being so reckless, and requested another week's sick pay to take care of him until he was able to actually walk. It was only a one year contract with the university anyway, she didn’t care if she missed a few days to make sure he was okay. 
“You look very handsome today,” She whispered to him as she hauled him out of the car, minding that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. He gave her a small smile and tucked her own hair behind her ear seeing it come loose from its braid when she’d leaned down to grab him. 
“Just today?” He asked, and she finally smiled back. She’d been stuck in a bubble in the car; her and Emily both had. They had the same thinking face, he’d realised. 
“Just especially today,” She answered honestly, and he worked on adjusting his black jacket so she could hold onto him comfortably. She was quieter than usual. Feeble, almost. 
“Thankyou, you do too,” He replied, his face scrunching after a moment, “Look pretty I mean,” 
He leaned on her arm, looped it around hers as he tried to be the least amount of imposing as possible. That went about as well as you’d expect for a six foot one bag of bones. 
She gave up after just a few steps, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulder as she walked with him. To anyone else they would easily pass as a couple, especially as she squeezed him tightly to her when the men laid down Hayley’s coffin, and the service began. 
“W.S Gilbert wrote ‘It’s love that makes the world go around’ and if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Hayley in it.” Aaron began, his voice strong as his large hands gripped the eulogy like it would give him any comfort. She smiled softly, her eyes glued to the man who stood unmoving for his son, “Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles but if there’s one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and our commitment to our son, Jack,” 
Bugsy smiled sadly when Jack looked to the floor bashfully. Glancing between the photo on top of the coffin, a beautiful blonde woman grinning back at her with brilliantly happy eyes and a soft face, she saw where he got most of his looks from. 
“Haley’s love for Jack was joyous, and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. A mother’s love is an unrivalled force of nature, and we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life. Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives. To measure who we are and who we’ve become.” She felt Spencer’s head knock into hers, felt the sniff run through him, and she searched her pocket for a tissue, “I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together; and I will make sure Jack grows up knowing who his mother was. And how she loved and protected him. And how much I loved her.” 
If Haley were here today she would tell us not to mourn her death. She would tell us-” Aaron cut himself off with a watery voice, his resolve finally melting as he realised this would be some of his final words to his wife. Bugsy felt her bottom lip quiver in remorse, “She would tell us to love our families unconditionally. And to hold them close because in the end they are all that matter.” 
Spencer felt her tug him closer as she hid the lone few tears from the rest of the mourners and wished more than ever he could press a small kiss to her brow.
No, Bugsy was not good with knowing what to say and when. Wasn’t good at cheering people up no matter how much Spencer told her she always made him feel better. Didn’t really know much about how to make someone understand that she cared other than showing them with her whole body. 
So by the time it was her turn to offer condolences, she didn’t bother shaking his hand. That meant nothing to her. That was a business deal, that was an agreement, a formal way to pretend you cared. But she did, she felt terrible for Hotch, wanted to fix him and his sweet son until Haley was right back there to thank her. 
She didn’t shake his hand like everyone else had. He held his hand out for one, his eyes soft and warm, like he could see she was struggling. She brushed past his hand and just pulled him in for a hug, and he wondered if she was always going to greet him that way. 
“I guessed that sorry wouldn’t make anything better so I brought you the biggest bottle of wine the store had,” She murmured into his chest, and she was gobsmacked to hear him chuckle weakly. She felt his hands pat her on the back gently, and he appreciated her candour. “I’ve got some Xanax if you’d really like a treat,” 
She was a breath of fresh air. Aaron truthfully had been sick of people saying they were so sorry for his loss, and he felt like shaking them and yelling, screaming that they hadn’t been the one to kill Haley, Foyet had. 
He pushed all of it down, focusing on the way she’d tucked herself to him like she had the day she’d become a runaway bride dripping rainwater over his bureau floor. 
“She would have really liked you,” Aaron confessed, and they finally parted, and she saw he was smiling like he meant it, not just saying it to make her feel more comfortable being here. “You would have made her laugh,”
He saw the easy expression on her face fade, and she turned to look at her heels, nodding quietly. 
“I would have been lucky to have known her,” She said, handing him the gift bag with a very heavy present inside. “I only wish someone would ever love me the way you love her,’ 
And with that she bid him a smile, and returned to her seat in between Emily and JJ, the pair of them mother henning her all day.
Aaron wished he could have said more to her after that, but before he knew it, someone else was offering him their condolences, and the sadness in her voice was forgotten.
The team sat around the table, nursing their beers, or in Spencer and Bugsy’s case a tea. Spencer didn’t want to affect his healing process with alcohol, not that he’d ever been big on the stuff, and Bug said she struggled driving even without the help of a beer, so they chatted between sips from two very fancy china cups. 
Emily and JJ sat to the other side of her talking about how beautiful the flower arrangements were when a small, fawn haired body came wandering over to where Will held a one year old Henry on his knee. 
“Would he like to play?” Jack asked shyly, trying to peer up onto the adults table to see if there were any other kids his age that would like to do something with him. His dad had been busy talking to all those people, and auntie Jessica had been trying to make it round to every table to thank people for being here. He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, in all honesty.
“He’s still a little too small yet honey. In a year or so, you guys can be best friends,” JJ said sweetly as he pulled his chin up to the tabletop and spied the younger woman sitting next to uncle Spencer.
He tottered over to her, where she sat unaware she had a shadow until Spencer's face softened as he looked behind her, and she swivelled around in her seat. 
“Hello,” Jack said quietly, looking up at where she seemed to buffer, feeling eight pairs of eyes on her as she interacted with the small boy.
She had never been good with children, had never been around them since she was their age, even the kids she taught now were all at least eighteen. 
The mantra to absolutely not fuck up the next few moments reverberated around her head. 
She gave him a soft smile, holding out a hand for him to shake, “Hi, Jack. I’m Emily’s sister. You can call me Bugsy,”
His tiny nose scrunched as he watched her, shaking her hand the way dad had shown him how. 
“Bugsy? That’s a weird name,” He said, and she chuckled, “Like the bunny?”
She shrugged, “I guess like the bunny, yeah,” although she had never thought of that before. 
“Would you like to play with me?” Jack asked, and she felt her chest warm unnaturally. He had such a sweet face. It was just like the woman in the picture.
Smiling at him crookedly, she rooted around her bag for the notebook and pens she kept for her to-do lists. Maybe Spencer was rubbing off on her. 
“We could do some drawing if you want?” She offered, showing him the pad with kind eyes. That seemed to satiate him as he grabbed her knee and started pulling himself up to sit in her lap, and she paused. 
Kids were so funny, she realised, she would never just start grabbing someone she just met and asking to climb on their lap. 
She got him comfortable on her knee, not noticing the flashing glances Spencer gave her between his conversation with Kevin, Garcia’s beau, as Jack started drawing a bunny with a human face, that was supposedly meant to be her. 
Spencer watched her giggle as he gave the rabbit a pretty dress, like the one she was wearing, and Spencer had to admit it was a pretty dress she’d gone for today. Had he not been so mournful earlier he thinks he would have blushed how tight she’d held him. 
She showed him how to play noughts and crosses, and she let him win most of them, laughing when he asked to tear out the page from her notebook to show his dad later. 
That is, until the man himself came over to the table of his work colleagues, only to see the group watching their youngest playing with his sweet son. 
“Bugsy,” Hotch said, and her head shot up to him, a guilty look passing over her face, worried she’d overstepped, though the fact he hadn’t said her real name said otherwise, “Can I talk to you for a moment outside, please?”
She blinked, straightening in her seat “O-ofcourse!” Shuffling Jack off her lap as fast as she could without hurting him, smoothing out her dress down as she followed him to the small balcony the funeral home had. It was a classy manor, but she guessed Hotch would have only had the best for Haley. 
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Jack asked to sit on my lap- and- I’m not good with kids anyway I just didn’t want to tell him no, especially not today-” He put his hand on her shoulder to shut her up, a small smile spreading on his face. It was fatherly and calming, something her own father had been much too busy to ever bother with.  
“Not at all, that’s not why I called you out here,” He reassured, squeezing her gently as he leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the midnight air, and he felt his professional mask begin to slip. “I’ve been thinking… about how much help you've been to us over the years. Reid would be dead if it wasn’t for you.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he flashed her a look that said he was serious. “Let me finish,”
She wrung her hands guiltily, “Sorry,” 
“You’re very resilient far beyond your years, you’re incredibly charismatic when you need to be, and you’re by far one of the smartest people your age,” He said, watching her face to see how she felt. He knew she didn’t take compliments well, for some other reason they could dig into any other day. But he needed to say it now, needed her to know now for what he was about to ask her. 
“Whether that is true or not, why are you telling me this?” She asked politely, without the usual bite that went with it when they tried calling her something she wasn’t. 
“I need to take some time off to spend with Jack, try and help him…” He trailed off, unsure as to what he wanted to say. “Help him understand Haley’s not coming home,”
She nodded with a glistening lash line, and grabbed onto his arm gently.
“My team looks to me to be their glue, but I know I can’t keep everyone together and look after my son. Emily said your contract at the University was ending,” He cleared his throat, looking at her again with something vulnerable in his sable black eyes, “So I was wondering if you would reconsider the FBI academy? It’s only twenty weeks, but Rossi and I can put you forward to do the written exams earlier if you’d like, and then Strauss can have you assigned a trainee position at the BAU-” 
“Anything,” She nodded, “Anything you need, I’ll do it,” and he hugged her for once. Maybe it was the way she had said it so willingly, no matter her own reservations about joining the academy, no matter her stubbornness and resistance to her sisters pestering, or even the fact they all talked weekly about how much easier their job would be if she was there. Her and Reid’s brains together were a force to be reckoned with. 
And he knew, the surprisingly kind girl that clutched at him back, would keep his team together, would be the glue to keep their heads on while he took some time to watch his son. 
“Thankyou,” He murmured into her hair, and she forced herself not to get weepy at the grief in his voice. Of all people here, she was the last person who should be allowed to cry. Least of all to him. 
He pulled away from her eventually, cursing himself for letting the front slip, but it was as if she had that effect on everyone on the team, like she had this little way of worming her way between that gap in their chests where their hearts once were before they’d seen the things they had, dealt with the people they had. 
It was for that reason Aaron knew they would be just fine. 
“You know, when I was a kid, mom got letters every day from people with their own agendas against her,” Bugsy said once they’d taken a gulp of cool night air, “They all said the same thing; that they were going to take me for ransom unless she left the country. She didn’t think much of it until a guy started following the car home from school and she decided to get me trained in self defence,” 
Hotch frowned, his chest tightening. He knew how it felt to be a parent on edge for his kid’s safety, but to hear it from the other side cut deeper. 
“Which was fine, I got a pretty mean shot if I say so myself, but eventually it progressed into hostage training, in case…” She swallowed dryly, clearing her throat and picking her nails, “I wet the bed the first time they grabbed me, the whole idea was that I wouldn’t know it was coming. They let me go pretty fast, I don’t think they’d expected the eleven year old to reach for the kitchen knife,” 
Hotch scoffed, shaking his head in horror, though he didn’t doubt her for a second. 
“I slept with it next to my bed for a year, so that next time they came for me, they would think twice and let me sleep in,” She said with a thoughtful smile.
“And did it work?” He asked, watching her run her hands along the stone wall beneath his  elbow. 
“I dunno, but the one guy left pretty quick when I almost took his eye out,” She giggled, and the sound made him laugh quietly as well, “My point is, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Jack. Kids like us, we get made tougher, resilient. And with parents like you two, I’d say he had a pretty good head start.” Bugs said, smiling to herself flicking a glance up to his face that said just how touched he was. Deciding he was likely waiting for her to turn around before he let himself cry, she took a step back, heading towards the reception. “I mean look at me, I turned out alright!” 
She barely heard his small chuckle that faded into a weep before she shut the door behind her, heading back over to the table where the team sat, Jack now with his auntie Jessica, and their eyes fell on her, waiting to hear whatever it was she had to say. 
Taking a deep breath, she gave them an awkward smile, “Guess I’m joining the academy afterall,” 
And that was all she got out before Garcia dived on her with an excited cuddle. 
4. The one with his new hair
He knew he was sweeping his fingers through his hair much more often than usual, his hazel eyes flickering to his reflection in car doors in a way that was almost obsessive. He liked what his barber had done, but that wasn’t the point. 
He was hoping she liked it. 
Bugsy had passed the academy with flying colours, not that anyone had ever doubted her, and had been part of the team for all of two weeks, though he would argue she was BAU way before that. Hotch had figured out a staggered schedule where he could take care of Jack four days a week and work the rest until Jack settled back in at school. 
It had been nearly five months since Haley had died, but it hadn’t gotten any easier for the boy. 
Spencer definitely, definitely hadn’t spent the last two weeks practically breathing down her neck whenever they went out into the field, nor had he definitely not found himself fighting off the grin that threatened his composure when he caught her scribbling notes down to herself whilst Penelope presented the cases. 
And he most definitely hadn’t gone out to get a new hair cut in the hopes she would find him more attractive. 
Definitely not.
And yet, her face was the first one he found himself looking at as he stepped into the office, watching as it trailed up from her notebook, her pink gel pen paused mid sentence as the rest of the team went silent, her face spitting into a grin the minute she saw him. 
“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asked in a rare moment of teasing, Derek snickering as Emily nudged his arm with her own chuckle. 
“Can I be your groupie?” Bugsy asked, which made them laugh harder, though she stared at him with a small twinkle in her eye the way she always did when he squirmed under her compliments. 
He hadn’t thought she was being mean, not even when they took a moment to settle down, not even when she smiled wryly at him, her eyes flicking up to his hair twice more before her attention was stolen back by Garcia switching the board. 
“Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties, early thirties?” Emily asked after they quietened, adjusting her bangs over her brows. 
“All single, though two are in committed relationships,” Rossi added, flicking through his own pack of notes. “All living on their own,” 
“Looks like normal suburban houses. Give the Unsub privacy,” Morgan added, his face scrunched in disgust as he looked at the crime scene photos. 
“The differences are more striking than the similarities. Different hair colours, different body shapes.” Reid noted, Bugsy’s handwriting scrawling over her notebook as she tried to capture everything they were saying. 
“What do we know about his MO?” Hotch asked JJ, the blonde woman shaking her head with a grimace. 
“That’s why we were invited in, the abduction sites are pristine,” She said gravely, looking between her team as they seemed to balk at the information. 
“No DNA besides the victims, and there’s no sign of forced entry or struggle,” Bugsy noted in the pack Garcia had given her that morning, along with a little pat to the head for good luck. Before now, in those two weeks, they had only dealt with one kidnapping and one group homicide that had turned out to be one very stupid teen spiking drinks at a pool party. This case would be the worst one she’d seen yet. 
“And the victims aren’t reported until two or three days after they’re abducted,” Emily tailed off the end of her sister, her eyes serious as the team came to the same conclusion. 
He had days to spend as much time with the bodies as he wanted. 
“Two or three days? Women like this don’t just disappear without somebody noticing,” Rossi chimed in again, as JJ clicked onto the next screen handing the remote to Garcia. 
“Yes, which is why I had Garcia dig into their lives a little,” She said, taking a seat next to Hotch to let penelope lead. 
“And I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see what the Unsub was doing,” Penelope said, clicking onto a screen full of the women’s profiles. 
Bugsy couldn’t even say she was shocked. Ever since she was in highschool, friendships, or her lack thereof, had been entirely decided on who had the most likes on their status update. Apparently no one found the girl who read Russian Literature for fun cool, nor did they want anything to do with her. Emily didn’t know she’d sat in the school toilets to eat her lunch for three years straight. Turns out kids from every country were bitches. 
“Social Media profiles?” Her older sister asked, though the surprise was evident on her face atleast. 
“Yeah, facebook, twitter, you name an online life-sharing time suck, these victims were on it,” Penelope said, enlarging the screen for the team to see the specifics, “And if you look at each of their last posts, they say kind of the same thing, ‘Going out of town, Going on a business trip, Going on vacation,’ but when you look at the time and date stamps on each of these, queue the twilight zone music because they were all posted the morning after each of them went missing,”
“The unsub posted them?” Hotch concluded, his natural frown deepening. This Unsub had a way to keep all of his victims hidden for much longer than they’d anticipated. Who knows what he could be doing as they spoke. 
“You know, social networks are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open, they posted everything from what they had for dinner to where they were going on dates,” Spencer said, looking at the print outs Pen had handed to them. 
“The unsub ‘Friends’ his victim, and then uses it as a cover once he takes them,” Derek said, as Bugsy’s face scrunched in disagreement. 
“What are you thinking, Kiddo?” Rossi asked from her left, as he head shot up to see the team watching her, waiting for her input. 
Surprising to everyone, she was somewhat nervous when she’d started at the BAU. The Bugsy Prentiss, the woman who had caught out parts of the Russian Mob when she was just a college student, was nervous to not mess up in front of them. 
“I understand what Derek’s saying, but nowadays you don’t actually have to be friends with someone to follow them.” She said, picking her fingertips in thought, “A lot of people have hundreds of total strangers they’ve never met on their page; some settings mean you don’t even need to be ‘friends’ in the first place to see what they're posting. The UnSub probably wouldn’t even bother implicating himself in the first place by following them, he could just access their profile and see what they're up to. I think he profiles as patient and organised, and somewhat tech savvy if he’s up to date on the way these medias work,” 
The team watched her carefully, Spencer beating down the proud smile he wanted to flash her, knowing he needed to be focused on this case, but she seemed satisfied with her answer when Penelope nodded in agreement.
“So you don’t think he’s an old guy like me, is what you’re saying?” Derek asked with aghast, knowing full well mid thirties wasn’t too old. Hadn’t stopped his pride hurting. 
She shook her head, “I just think he wouldn’t be as old as you. Mine and Reid’s age maybe. But he seems obsessive, and he also must have a job that affords him the spare time to spend the following few days with the bodies, but it means we should also assume that these women are likely already dead,”
She looked to Hotch hopefully, to see him staring at her unreadably for a moment, before he looked to Rossi with a nod. 
David slapped her on the shoulder affectionately, “You just put together your first profile, kid,” 
And before long, they were heading for the jet with her deductions in mind to hand over to the cops. 
“Can someone explain to me the appeal of these sites? ‘Eating sushi tonight, yum!’ ‘Boss is keeping me late at work, grr,’” Rossi stared at the status updates, perplexed, as the team snickered to themselves. 
“Now, wait a minute. How did you find my profile?” Bugsy asked jokingly, and she drew a fond smile from Aaron her way when Rossi chuckled to himself. 
He wished she would stop looking so nervous to contribute. She fit right in with the furniture. 
“Whose life is so important that we’d be interested in this kind of detail?” Rossi asked seriously, though Bugsy supposed even the coffee machine was a new useless piece of technology to the man who liked his espresso fresh. 
“That’s just it, no one is. I guess everyone just wanted to believe it to themselves that they all have an audience out there waiting to hear every update of their day. Some of them even have GPS tracking systems in place to make it even easier for people to find out exactly where you are,” Bugsy said, her eyes flicking to Spencer who watched her intently, automatically floating up to take in his new hair again. 
She couldn’t help think he had stopped looking cute, and started looking hot. He’d always been cute, god knows she’d always thought he was good looking. But now he looked… dreamy. It had made her double take the minute he’d walked through the door, hoping it wasn’t too obvious she was staring. 
“That explains how he’s finding them, but it doesn’t tell us how he’s getting into their houses,” Hotch nodded along with her, eying her carefully as she looked through her own notes she’d made once she’d brought herself round to ripping her eyes off Reid. 
“At the very least I believe he has copies of their keys,” Spencer said, his finger trailing the information in his file, “Doris Archer had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56am, so he knew that too. He also found a way to deal with her dog, a German Shepard she adopted from the pound last year, it went missing the night she did,” 
“Did they find the dog?” Bugsy asked, her face in a frown as Emily looked up to her.
“Why? What are you thinking?” She asked her little sister who played with the ‘TRAINEE’ lanyard around her neck. 
“If he hurt the dog, it likely meant the dog had been on alert to him as an intruder, since opportunistic violence isn’t in his profile of being collected and organised. So if he didn’t hurt the dog, and he was found alive and unharmed, it means the dog knew him,” Bugsy explained, and Derek stroked his face in thought. 
“This guy’s gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse, talks his way inside, and then once he’s familiar enough with the house he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything,” He said, the girl nodding in agreement with him.
“Think of people you let into your home you don’t consider a threat. Home repair guys, dog walkers?” Rossi offered, but JJ was quick to flick to her own pack. 
“Detective Fordham looked into that too. No one came even close to being a killer,” She shut down, not wanting to waste their time running through avenues that had already been explored. 
“Alright,” Hotch started as he glanced at his watch to see they were landing in around ten minutes, “Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction site, see if anything points to his MO.” 
Bugsy raised her hand politely, as if she were still in class, and he nodded in her direction to speak, “Do you mean as in me when you say Prentiss or as in Emily when you say Prentiss?” She asked, and Emily seemed to be having the same issue as she flicked a glance between the two of them.
“I mean Emily, for you I guess I’ll have to say-” But he stopped himself with a frown. What would he say? Bugsy? No, too informal on a case. Baby Prentiss? Absolutely not. He thinks she might just hit him if he said her first name too much. “We’ll workshop it for now. Dave, you, Prentiss, Reid and JJ go back over the women’s lives. Start with asking around their friends on the sites. If this is how the Unsub is finding them, maybe they’re connected to him without even realising.” 
The team was quiet for a moment, before Spencer pointed to Bugsy with his pen, “So that time you meant Bug, right?”
Dave wished he could protest but he had also been a bit confused, as Hotch rubbed his head tenderly. 
He felt the headache coming already. 
“What was it about these women that made him choose them as targets?” Bugsy asked as she and Spencer sat in a small room in the Boise precinct, the three victims' profile pictures staring back at them from the board. 
It was their second day working on the case, and other than Garcia tracking a very disturbing snuff film of the last murder being streamed from the victim’s own IP address using camera’s he’d set up in the home, they had yet to have a big breakthrough. Hotch had told her to leave the room when they’d shown the footage, knowing it was one of her first weeks on the case, and despite having a strong stomach, he wanted her to ease into the role rather than drop her in the deep end head first. 
Even seasoned agents like Morgan and Rossi had both winced, JJ even gagging as they watched it happen. They usually dealt with the aftermath, not have front row seats on the act itself. 
She had been allowed in once the tape had finished, but Reid had immediately shuffled her into the small office they’d been permitted to use by the Boise police, his face a little more peaky than usual.
She wished he wouldn’t worry so much about her, wished he would hide it better when he fretted over her. She was sure he would burst a vessel if he kept flicking his head to look at her, though she just sat staring at the women as if the answer would jump out at her. 
“They’re all pretty, aren’t they?” Bugsy said, swinging her legs beneath the table, her eyes roving over the three faces, “Though unconventionally, they’re still pretty.”
They weren’t his type, Spencer thought, they looked almost nothing like her. She had removed the last of the pink hair dye she’d managed to keep on top of for a year or so before she’d started at the university. Her nose piercing had progressed to a little thin silver hoop, though her earrings had been dialled down for safety reasons in the field, and she kept her hair tied back away from her face most days. She looked older, which was a dumb thing to think, since of course she was older. But she had grown into her face, and Spencer was entirely convinced she took after her father since the only thing she shared with Emily was the same pout when she thought too hard. 
He’d watched her grow for all of three years into the twenty five year old that sat before him, and yet her face had never really changed shape. She still had those pretty eyes that seemed to glint up at him, those soft lips that pursed when she tried not to giggle at him, that perfect nose he would trace the edge of using just his gaze when she had come over to his apartment to study for the academy. She was still as beautiful as the day he’d met her, he thinks part of him had always thought of her in that way. He had just put it down to a pretty girl giving him attention. But girls gave him attention all the time, he had realised since that stakeout at the club, when he’d given her those napkin roses. He just didn’t care for them. 
He only cared about what she thought of him. 
Only cared what her face looked like-
“Wait,” He stopped his thoughts that could go on for days, weeks, about her. They already had, it was difficult to pull himself out of it sometimes. He stared at the photos of the victims, his mind revelling in her own face that he didn’t doubt had guys swooning and falling over their own feet, as he zeroed in on their eyes, cheekbones, septums, “Their faces are all an identical structure,” 
“How did you figure that out?” She asked, wide eyed and he ripped down the photos before she could catch him blushing. 
He thought he might take it to the grave what he’d been thinking about. 
“He’s going live,” Hotch seethed, clicking a button on the remote and the whiteboard in the centre of the room lit up with video footage, a small red dot flashing slowly in the corner telling them they were watching it being streamed. 
Bugsy stood behind Spencer, her eyes glued to the small computer at the desk that played the same screen, her heart rate spiking when she saw a small body camera pointing at a house, the UnSub cutting across a lawn in a near sprint. 
He’d lost control completely, and he had another victim set in his sights. 
“He’s not slow, deliberate. This guy’s pissed.” Rossi said, his jaw hung open in horror as the streamer headed straight for the front door. 
“All right, what do we see? Determining markers?” Hotch snapped the groups focus back from the gut wrenching panic that everyone felt, and it was like a switch flipped.
“A one story cottage,” Spencer noted, his eyes glued to the screen so tight he missed the way Bugsy’s face changed colour, and she looked like she was swaying on her feet. 
“That could be anywhere,” Detective Fordham commented back, his face grimacing. 
“Is there a number on the house?” Morgan asked, and everyone leaned in closer to the footage. 
“No, he’s already at the door,” JJ said, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 
Bugsy thought she might be sick. 
“Garcia,” 
“He’s using twice as many proxy servers,” Her shaky voice came through the speaker, furious typing in the background.
“Wait, this window in the background, is that the chat room?” Emily asked, pointing to the small screen at the bottom that flooded with comments from at least forty different users, and more began entering the stream. 
Get that bitch. 
Show her a good time. 
Teach the pigs a lesson for sticking their nose in. 
Bugsy wished she hadn’t been so fast at reading, as she felt her skin go cold at the sight of the comments. 
“People are getting off on it,” She said quietly, but no one heard her, too focused on finding out where the UnSub was. 
“Uh Huh,” Garcia confirmed, as the footage flicked to show a kitchen view, a pretty fair haired woman stood chopping peppers none the wiser to the sick people watching her life before it was about to be ended. 
“He’s in the house, guys,” Reid ran clammy hands over his trousers, his stomach churning as the video went on.
“He’s completely changed his MO,” Derek added, and the team could do nothing but watch in terror, “There’s too much light, what happened?”
“Someone asked the wrong question at the press conference,” JJ explained from beside Reid, her nails bitten to hell. 
“Oh my god, turn around. Just turn around,” Emily begged, and part of her little sister thought she might have been talking about her. 
“Maybe she can fend him off,” Derek said, though even his tone of voice wasn’t convinced. 
“New kitchen appliances, maybe we could check the work order?” Spencer was grasping at straws he knew that, but he couldn’t sit back with that big brain of his working overtime and not try to help at all.
“He’ll be gone by then,” Rossi said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“Garcia, can you give me anything?” Hotch asked, and the sound of typing got even faster if that was possible.
“I’m stateside now, I’m almost to Idaho, I just need more time,” but Garcia was cut of by the man in the video lurching at the innocent woman, his hands wrapping around her neck with a venomous grip, her every moment of pain and terror captured on his body cam for his audience to see. 
His audience including the team. 
Bug felt the bile rise then, felt her eyes burn as she watched the woman’s face freeze in fear, a yelp of “No!” leaving her oesophagus, her small hands coming up to his wrists to try pry him away from her, anything to gasp for another breath of air. 
She wasn’t listening as Hotch barked orders at Garcia, her eyes were stuck on the woman that writhed in pain, pleading with the masked man to spare her. But her rebuttals got weaker, her whimpers began to grow quieter, and soon he’d tackled her to the ground in a blood curdling scream, his whole body weight crushing her throat. 
Her own hand came up to cover her mouth that dropped open in shock, her eyes burning with tears that she couldn't let fall. It was this woman who was suffering, not her. 
There was a bit more struggling from the woman, her eyes bulging from her skull, lips turning blue, until she slumped beneath his hands, and he released her. 
She took a step back, bumping into a chair she hadn’t even known was there as her eyes fixed to the screen, and Spencer’s head shot around to see her shaking on the spot, her eyes haunted. 
Emily followed suit, but Spencer was already out of his seat, rushing forward to grab her arms and lead her outside. 
“I’m gonna get her some air,” He called behind him to the team that watched her go with forlorn glances, and he hated how he felt her trembling beneath his grip, grabbing onto his jacket just as tight. 
They made it halfway down the stairs before she bolted for the bathroom, and he heard her retching as he dipped into the room after her, not caring that the sign clearly stated it was for women. 
“I’m fine, Em, just give me a minute,” She said, and he heard the sniffles between her words. 
“It’s me,” He said, finding the one stall on the end that had it’s door engaged, pulling a cup from out of the dispenser and filling it at the water fountain, “You should drink some water, the cold helps reset your body’s instinct to fight or flight,” 
“Or in my case, make a complete fool of myself and take time away from a time sensitive investigation because I’m such a wuss,” She said cynically, coughing chestily and he heard the toilet flush. 
His forehead creased as he frowned. The door unlocked and she stepped out, her eyes red and teary as she gently took the water from his hands, and he rooted around his pocket for a stick of gum to give her. She chucked it in her mouth, letting the peppermint clear the vile taste from her mouth, hoping she didn’t look too gross. 
“You shouldn’t stand so close to me, toilet bowls are like full of germs and my heads just been in there, I know it makes you feel funny to be around germs-” He pushed her hair behind her ear as if to tell her to stop thinking so loud, and she couldn’t help smile sheepishly at him. “Do you think Hotch will be mad?” 
He shook his head instantly. 
“Mad? No. Worried? Incredibly.” Spencer replied, stroking her hair a little the way his mom used to when he felt sick. 
Bugsy shook her head, sniffing to herself a little more. 
She couldn’t stop seeing that woman’s face as the life slipped from her, the hands around her neck. The yelps and pleads and begs and she fought with everything in her.
“How long was it until you started feeling like this?” She asked earnestly, running a sleeve under her nose, “You’re so brave, I always knew you were but, since I started, it’s like I realised nothing really touches any of you anymore.”
He fought the incredulous laugh, him; brave? The man scared of the dark and elevators brave? 
“We all take things home with us at the end of the day,” He said, wiping under her eyes for her with his own cardigan cuff, “If you didn’t feel anything for the victims we help, you wouldn’t be human, Bug,”
She nodded, “I know. I just don’t want to let anyone down. Not you guys and especially not the people we’re helping,” 
“It’s for that reason I know you’re going to do great,” He said, giving her one of those small Spencer smiles he reserved for when he wanted to see one of hers. 
Her forehead thumped onto his chest as he pulled her a little closer, and his cheek fell on top of her hair as he ran gentle hands over the sides of her arms, calming her until her breath started evening out. 
“You never said,” She pointed out, “How long it took for you to start getting cold feet. Bet I beat some kind of record, two weeks is absolute dog shit,” She chuckled to herself, not noticing how his face evened out in sadness. 
It was Tobias Hankel that had done it. It was getting tied up and injected that had made him feel like a failure, like he wasn’t cut out for anything let alone the force. Like his life was taking a huge spiral downwards. 
But he wouldn’t tell her that, not yet at least. 
“Come on, let’s get you back,” He brushed off, and she figured it was a sore spot for him. She cursed herself for asking in the first place. 
Nodding, she downed the rest of the water and got herself a refill, following him out of the bathroom, looking back up at him for a moment.
“I forgot to say,” Bug said, nudging against his side with her whole body, knocking into him lovingly, “Your new hair is very… dashing. I really like it.”
He swore his face went crimson in a single second.
5. The one with his migraines
“Let me pay for your fuel at least,”
“Spence, just shut up and get in the car,”
That was around about how the past eight months had gone. Every day, she would drive by his apartment, Emily in the passenger seat of her little sisters beat up Renault Zoe, affectionately named after its model, the back seat reserved for Spencer’s lanky legs and satchel bag as she drove the three of them through through roads of Virginia, to work and back again. 
Sometimes he surprised her with coffee, sometimes Emily brought them donuts.  Either way, they all enjoyed their morning routine that had stood the test of time about as much as Bugsy had as part of the BAU. 
It had gotten easier after that first case; she still had her moments, but her skin had thickened to a point she barely remembered what her life had been like before that day Hotch asked her to join the academy. 
Things were going well, she felt settled, even with the new girl Seaver replacing JJ while Jareau was away on business in the pentagon. She couldn’t say she was the girl’s best friend, but they got along. And that was good enough for her. Her team was a well oiled machine. 
That was, except for Spencer. Spencer she worried for every day. 
She hated the way he twitched in the passenger seat, now his since she’d forced Emily to get the subway to work today, bitching eachother out in the way sisters did until the older woman left in a huff but without asking questions, and she left to take Spencer to the hospital. 
The sunglasses did little to stop his eyes hurting, his brain quite literally feeling as though it was pressing against his skull. He even turned down coffee this morning, and her stomach had dropped when she realised just how serious it was. 
He didn’t even question her when she held his hand tightly in hers as she walked him into the office, knowing he would hate every second of having this MRI done. 
“Everything’s going to be absolutely fine, they’re going to find what it is and we’re going to get you fixed right up to your perky self again,” She said, as they sat together outside the doctor’s office, keeping her voice calm and quiet as not to upset his delicate head even more. 
He nodded, appreciating her gentle touches on his hand, and he jumped in his seat when the door opened, his name being called through and he wished she could come with him. 
“You got this,” Bugsy smiled at him reassuringly when he looked hesitant, and nodded again, squeezing her hand once before he let go, following the nurse into the MRI room, wondering how he got so lucky to have a best friend like her. 
Spencer sighed, leaning back in his seat. The flight had not helped the building pressure in his head in the slightest. He looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes as the harsh office lights beat against his face mercilessly. 
Two bodies found sacrificed to a 'higher being', their tongues and fingers cut off, shells put over their eyes and mouths. They had seen worse, perhaps not as odd, but they had seen worse. And yet this was the case that made him feel like his brain was about to explode right out his ears.
He hadn’t felt like this since he had been on Dilaudid, since he’d be on a come down and his whole body would sweat cold, and his head would rattle with every movement. And even that almost paled in comparison to how bad his head hurt right now. 
Spencer had wondered if that was what had done this to him, if it was a long term side effect of its use. He knew it wouldn’t be, but the self punishing part of him couldn’t help but fill his head with it. 
He just wanted answers. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to crawl into bed with an ice pack over his face and never surface again until this thing had subsided. 
Spencer felt hands in his hairline, fingernails weaving and massaging until he almost moaned, the touches releasing some of the metaphorical knots like magic at their fingertips, and he knew who it was, because that was how she always made him feel. 
He opened his eyes to see her very upside down as she looked down at him, their eyes inline with one another as she continued running her fingers against his temples gently. 
“You okay, handsome?” That was somewhat new, not that he was complaining. Part of him said she just felt bad for him and his weird brain, and maybe that was how it had always been, but ever since he had started getting these migraines she was impossibly even softer with him now. Like she was his comfort blanket he cuddled to when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, and she knew it too. They were rarely not stuck together like velcro, where he moved, she moved. Where he sat, she was pressed against him like the concept of personal space had never been such a huge deal for him. 
And when his pain struck him down into the embodiment of a wounded doe, she was right there fluffing his pillows, grabbing him aspirin, massaging his head like she could grab the bastard migraine right out of his skull and say leave my precious boy alone. 
She was too sweet on him recently, but then he never wanted it to stop. It felt like a relationship without the kissing and especially without the sex. The thought of it made him want to moan again. 
“This one’s a stubborn one,” It had lingered around for three days straight, and the Miami heat wasn’t helping as he looked up at her inverted face, and he could tell she was smiling gently at him. 
She ran her thumbs over his eyebrows, smoothing them out and he sighed in delight as he felt the muscle begin to relax beneath her touch. 
“You make things better,” He confessed, her fingers tracing down his pretty nose, and he closed his eyes as she went over the bags beneath them. “You always do,” 
He felt her kiss his forehead for good luck, and he knew she hated seeing him in so much pain. He could have whined when she pulled away, letting go of him gently as Rossi stepped into the room, hoping he hadn’t seen the affection before too much teasing could come. 
But he said nothing, even if he had seen, just raised his eyebrows and grabbed the file off the desk for his own thorough look through. 
He sure as hell missed the way she interlaced their fingers under the desk though. 
Spencer twisted the bracelet around his wrist as they sat together outside the doctor's office. Orula’s ide. That was what Julio had called it. Said it would protect him from the bad spirits that clouded his head. 
Spencer was a man of science, a man of logic. But even he couldn’t quite explain how Julio had managed to figure out he was having migraines despite him not letting any infliction of pain cross his face, even more confused when Julio had said his body had been a conduit for a higher spirit who wanted to help him. 
He was glad to be back in Virginia where everything made sense to him. Where she could hold onto his knee at the doctor's office to stop it from bouncing and his team couldn’t tease or ask him what was wrong or make her stop touching him so much. 
“I say we get some ice on your head and put on whichever Doctor Who episode you want, don’t even care if we’ve seen it before,” She offered, smiling over at him and hoping he couldn’t see the worry in her eyes. 
He could. He just nudged her shoulder with his forehead to say thankyou without ruining the solace the quiet brought him. 
That is until his name was called, just as it was the last time he was here, and he stood to enter the office, not letting go of her hand as this time he’d made sure she could come. 
“That doesn’t make any sense,” He said as he sat on the bed, his doctor showing him the clear brain scans that hadn’t flagged a single neuron out of place. 
“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” His doctor replied, watching the way his female accomplice frowned, squeezing his hand tightly. 
“Isn't there any tests that would look for a specific prognosis we could try?” She asked, and the man shook his head. 
“Not unless we’ve ruled out every other option, and in this case I’d like to suggest that Dr. Reid’s condition might be psychosomatic in nature,” The doctor explained, wary of the way the two agents screwed their expressions up, almost identically, hearing his explanation of Spencer’s headaches. 
“Psychosomatic…” Spencer echoed softly, in near disbelief. 
That couldn’t be it. It had to be the Dilauded. Or a tumour. Or a long standing concussion. Something physical and tangible he could point out and get fixed.  
“It just means a mental or emotional cause-” The doctor explained, only to have Spencer cut him off. 
“No I know what ‘psychosomatic’ means Doctor, but it's not that,” He said, his voice tired; the idea he was making up his problem in his own head bothered him. 
“Well, I think it’s something we should consider.”
“Listen, I’m not crazy,” Spencer insisted, and he felt her tugging his hand closer to hers, her own way of comforting him when she couldn’t grab at his hair or face or jaw. 
“Dr Reid, I’m not saying-” But he was stopped by Spencer’s voice that was slowly growing more irate. 
“No, listen, I have headaches. I have increased sensitivity to light, because there’s something wrong with me physically. Not mentally. It’s not that,” He corrected the doctor, his sweet face pulled into a grumpy pout, almost offended that the professional was willing to write his pain off as a hallucinations. 
“That?” The doctor asked, a frown on his face as Spencer continued.
“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalised. So I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you. It’s not that, it’s not.” Spencer said in a huff, standing from the bed and grabbing his satchel, all but pulling her from the room as she sped walked after him, her hand still tightly in his. 
She was gobsmacked. She didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, and suddenly every single instance of her whining about her mother to him entered her head and she felt a pit growing in her stomach that only had room for guilt. 
They sat in the car in silence, her hands at ten and two as she tried not to stare at him. 
She couldn’t stand the quiet in which he stewed, murmuring to himself every now and then about how that most certainly wasn’t what was causing his state to decline. 
“You never told me that before,” She said after a while, and it was quiet, whether to satiate his headache or because she didn’t know if she was allowed to say it he wasn’t sure. 
“It never came up,” He said in a way that left little question. He didn’t want to talk about it. 
They sat in the quiet some more, the only sound being the way her engine hummed beneath the bonnet, the music turned low for his pounding head, and he saw the way she chewed her lip and flicked glances at him from the driver's side.
He sighed, not wanting to snap at her the way he had the doctor, “Bug, would you please stop looking at me like that, like you pity me-”
“No, it’s not that it's…” She started carefully, her gaze flicking ot him for a moment as they stopped at a red light, “Every time I forget you’re the strongest person I know, you just seem to remind me,” 
And just like that his heart swelled all over again, and he felt like maybe his head wasn't an entire failure to him.
+1 The one with the eulogy.
This was hell on earth. 
She sat around the table at the funeral home with her mother to her left, her father and Stephanie to her right. 
She could feel the team’s eyes on her; she hadn’t spoken in days, her face shallow and off colour, sick looking. Speaking to her mother and father was difficult for her on a good day, let alone when she was all alone. 
Because that was how she looked, as if she were half a person now, her face bitter and angry as she tried to take up the least amount of space at the table as possible, her mother inspecting her finger beds as if they’d scorned her. 
“Sit up straight,” She chided, nudging her daughter's knee, but Bugsy made no move to adjust her posture. She just stared blankly at the ugly floral tablecloth, waiting for the other mourners to arrive, to give their sorrows, before they could move to the church. 
Emily was right next door. Cold. In a box. Her entire body was likely in rigour mortis now, her face was probably white as snow with the blood pooling away - pallor mortis Reid had called it - her hands were probably twisted and ugly like a raven's foot-
She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. And yet the thoughts wouldn’t stop, not even as Stephanie, step mother from heaven as she was, began to chime in to try lighten the mood. 
Her dad hadn’t said a word to her yet, just patted her on the head the way he hadn’t done since she was five. 
“It’s a lovely day for a funeral, don’t you think?” She commented, but her voice was too sweet, too soft, too normal to have the charm she’d intended. 
Stephanie wasn’t a bad person. Not evil or horrible like Bugsy had always thought a step mother would be. But she was the person her father had left little Bugsy for, and though she knew almost all of her anger had been displaced onto the poor woman when he’d told her he had a new wife, Stephanie had never exactly bothered to remedy their relationship. 
Emily and Bugsy had been someone else’s kids. Had been Richard Prentiss’ problems, not hers. And no amount of kindness she bothered to overcompensate with today would change the past twenty years her father had been too preoccupied to even call for her birthdays. 
Bugsy scoffed, ignoring the warning look from her father. He knew very well how his youngest felt about his wife. 
“Mr and Mrs Prentiss,” Hotch came over, as if sensing the girl’s annoyance at the woman’s words, and she mentally could have planted a kiss right on Aaron’s lips when he made the effort to exclude Stephanie in his condolences, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is a devastation I never would wish on anyone,” 
“Thank you for your kind words, Mr Hotchner,” The step mother piped up again, before either of them could say anything, and Bugsy shot her a look so full of hatred, Aaron thought she might have slapped her right then and there. 
Richard cleared his throat, moving to put an arm around Steph’s chair, one that she’d pulled up to the table herself. 
If there was one thing Elizabeth and Bugsy would ever agree on it was that Stephanie was intolerable. 
Her mother looked empty as she nodded at Hotch, crossing her legs properly and pursing her lip, not saying anything. She’d never seen her mother cry, and she doubted that would start today. Elizabeth was much too of a proud woman to weep in front of the masses. 
“Thanks, Hotch,” Bugsy said the first words she had in days, the only time she’d gotten out of bed was to feel Niko and Sergio or to use the bathroom. Her voice was raspy, ghost like, and it scared the crap out of him. 
He couldn’t see her getting through this alive. 
With Haley, he’d had Jack to get him through it, keep him going, if not to put on a front for his little boy that was the spitting image of his wife. But Bug had nothing left of her sister, nothing but herself and two parents that couldn’t stand to look at one another without screaming curses. 
The other’s had already given their condolences, had already bombarded her with enough letters, flowers, stuffed teddies to fill a house, and she knew she wasn’t being fair ignoring them when they were grieving too. If not just as much as she was. 
But she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t be anything except this shell of a woman once called Bugsy. Her sister gave her that name, she didn’t think she deserved it anymore. 
Spencer just wished she would cry. He had been sobbing non stop, even where his eyes were puffy and red as Garcia’s as they stood in the funeral home, the smell of incense too strong, the sounds of wails too loud. But she looked… he hated to say it, she looked dead.
“That poor little lamb,” Penelope sniffled, tears already streaking down her cheeks as Derek tucked her under his arm, pulling her close into his smart black suit, “I wished she would let us in,”
“That girl is a carbon copy of Emily, of course she’s going to take herself off to lick her wounds,” Rossi said, his own fancy blazer stuffed with tissues in case his dark eyes welled up with tears again. He’d already managed to save himself once this morning before leaving the house, but he didn’t trust himself anymore than that. 
Spencer missed her smile more than anything, though he himself was struggling to muster anything past a grimace. 
“The Spring flowers are all in bloom, isn’t that lovely?” Stephanie continued, an easy grin on her face as she looked out of the window to the graveyard, as if she was entirely unaware of the grief lingering in the room, “I think she'll like it here,”
That was it. 
That was what pushed Bugsy over the edge, even Elizabeth broke her cold facade to look at the other women in shock, her daughter’s eye twitching as her head snapped to Stephanie, a rage encompassing her entire face.
“What the fuck would you know what she liked or didn’t like, Stephanie? She barely even fucking liked you,”  Bugsy hissed, drawing the attention of a few of the mourners with her vitriol anger. 
That wiped the smile off the woman��s face harder than any slap could have. 
“You watch your mouth, young lady,” Richard snapped, his face a blazen rage as Stephanie cowered behind him. 
Bugsy scoffed, and Hotch knew by the sound of it alone, something had been lit inside her that was about to go off like a hand grenade. 
He couldn’t say he blamed her. 
“I don’t know why you even bothered showing up, Dad. You’ve not seen either one of us since Emily left college,” She spat back, her eyes wild like a cat ready to claw its way out of a fight, “Surprised you even remember my name now you have your shiny new family and your million honeymoons to keep you busy,”
Richard stood from his chair, his black three piece creasing as he pointed in her face, his hand shaking with rage, and she saw the tears well in his eyes that looked too much like her own for her comfort. 
“You are turning out to be just like your mother, pushing away anyone who ever cared about you.” He barked, not caring that a few mourners turned to look at him in shock, “Don’t come crying back to me when you end up alone, little lady,” 
And with that he took Stephanie’s hand, who was the patron saint of guilt as of now, a face like a scolded child, too naive for the grown woman she really as. At least she had finally shut up, Bugsy thought darkly as her father stormed out of the home, ignoring the way faces watched hers carefully, knowing every word he’d said had been true. 
She thinks for a minute if Emily was here she’d poke fun at the way Steph’s face had been hilarious when her smile had dropped, or that her dad still had the worst temper out of them all, Bug included. She thinks that if Emily were here, she’d tell her he’d said all that stuff out of anger, and that she won’t end up alone, and that she’d always be with her.
She thinks that if Emily were here, she wouldn’t feel the empty nothingness where shame and sadness would be after having that entire thing play out infront of so many onlookers. 
But Emily wasn’t there. And she couldn’t even say she was shocked when her mother stood from her seat besides her too. 
“Where are you going?” Bugsy snarled, the Ambassador looking somewhat concerned before the expression fell and she went back to an equally lost look of her own. 
“I refuse to be made a spectacle of today,” Elizabeth said detachedly, collecting her purse over her black midi dress, her painted nails skimming the handle gently, “I can say my own goodbyes to your sister later, when everyone has left,” 
Coward. Coward. Coward. Bugsy wanted to scream after her, wanted to tear her hair out, wanted to grab the two of them by the neck and make them feel the way her words trapped inside her and clawed at her throat, sitting inside like a moth bouncing against a window trying to escape. 
But she said nothing. Did nothing, as her mother left the home, left her sitting there alone, until the officiant came over to her not even a moment’s later and told her it was time to start the funeral. 
And then she truly felt as if she would never be whole again. 
Her hands shook as she got to the podium. She’d always hated public speaking, which Spencer thought was odd since she seemed to grab the attention of every room she walked into like it was second nature. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at chasing down a criminal or being shot at or evening chewing out a detective that wasn’t pulling his weight, but speaking to a handful of decorated officers that watched her with grieving eyes was too much. 
Adjusting the mic to a more appropriate height, they watched her eyes scan the room, her brows scrunched, her mouth dry. Trying to find Emily, Hotch realised with a crack in his chest. The way she always did when she was nervous. The way she did when she was looking for Emily to come save her. 
“H-hi, um,” Her voice shook, her fingers fiddling with the chord for something to do, “Mom- Ambassador Prentiss got called out on business so I guess I’ll be giving the eulogy,” 
No one spoke, not even the ones who knew it was a lie, her eyes falling to where Spencer gave her a sad smile, some sort of encouragement for her to keep going, though his eyes were red and bloodshot, and he was sure the burn in his throat was rising again. 
She hadn’t cried yet. Penelope had cried four times today alone. 
“I- um, I wasn’t really prepared for a speech, so I’m, um, I’m just going to read the letter I wrote to her if that’s okay?” Her head shot to the priest who had handed the spotlight over to her, the warm spring breeze pulling at his robes as he nodded, his hand gesturing for her to continue. 
She cleared her throat, tearing the envelope open, and the paper rattled in her fingertips with her shaking hands as she pulled out the double sided A4 that had been written on in neat blue ink. 
Unfolding it, she let her gaze rip off the crowd of people who stared at her, waiting for whatever it was she had to say, the final words her sister’s body would hear before she was put in the ground forever. The last goodbye. The only one that had ever mattered. 
“Dear Emily,” Bugsy read, her voice finding footing as she was able to look away from the hundreds of eyes that watched her tearfully. But it was the wrong move. Because the minute she’d prepared herself to say the words out loud she felt her eyes well up. 
This was it. The last chance she would ever get to tell Emily how she felt. How sorry she was. How she was so damn sorry for being such a shitty person for so many years, for never saying thank you enough, for never hugging her when she really ought to have, for never appreciating how lucky she was to have a sister like her. 
Her throat clogged, and she sucked in a deep breath, releasing a trembling sigh. Her bottom lip quivered. 
“Sorry-” She apologised to the watchers, rubbing her mouth nervously, hoping no one could see just how deeply she had broken, just how harsh the wound had gaped open, “Dear Emily,” She started again;
“Everyone thinks they know what a sister is; it's the woman you share fifty percent of your DNA with who you’re put on this earth to annoy the shit out of,” A small wet laugh reverberated around the crowd, and she flashed a small smile at her own words. “But the truth is you can actually share up to sixty-one percent of your genes with one of your siblings. Which is crazy to me, because I know no matter how hard I try, I will never be even one percent of the woman you are,” 
She swallowed heavily, and she heard Penny burst out crying again, her head buried in Morgan’s neck. 
“If I was as gracious as you, I’d probably say you’re in a better place now, and if I was as brave, we probably wouldn’t even be here, because I would have been able to save you that day instead of just watching like a fly on the wall.” The first tear fell then, her face crumpling in pain. “If I was as considerate as you, I would be able to look every one of your friends in the eyes and tell them it would all be okay in the end. And if I was even the tiniest bit as kind as you, then I would have told you all of this to your face when it actually mattered.”
She sniffed heavily, and Derek did the same, his own throat burning, picking the thread on his nice trousers as Penelope’s tears wet his shirt through. 
“Everyone thinks that true love is finding someone you want to marry and have children with, but I know now that’s not the entirety of it. Love is a person you want to spend every day making happy, and make them proud to say they love you too.” Her chin wobbled some more as she read the next few sentences with something darker than remorse in her glassy eyes, “I sometimes think, if we were given a second chance, if we could try again, I would be able to tell you that I truly love you, Emily, and that you’re the only person I ever cared about loving me too,”
Her voice cracked, and she regarded the paper with misty eyes, her cheeks soaked as she quickly wiped them with the back of her white, lace gloves. 
“I think maybe next time I wouldn’t be so spoiled and bratty, and you could have been more relaxed and maybe less like my mom at times, but I think if we could do it over, we could have done it right, the way sisters are supposed to,” She sniffed, missing the way Spencer’s face dripped with tears of his own, her words tearing him inside and out with the guilt in every line. “But I guess it’s too late for that now. I only got one chance to be your sister and I failed, no matter how many times you pulled through for me. And that’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”
She braved a look at the closed casket, imagining her big sister, the only person she ever truly loved laying in there with fair, snow skin, her noir hair sitting perfectly like a princess in the fairytales she used to read to her before bed. Only this one had no happy ending. This one ended with her heart torn from her chest, bleeding for the rest of her days until her own body was buried and everyone could mourn the girl who was barely half the woman her sister was, no matter what the statistics say.
“I’m sorry, Emily” It was the first time she’d said the two words that had been playing in her head on a loop for weeks, the two words that sang to her like a mantra, every morning, noon and evening. Even in her sleep she had dreams where she could do nothing but scream into a void of darkness, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It should have been me, I’m sorry. “I hope you can forgive me,” She whimpered through a sob, ignoring the way her cheeks gushed with fat tears now, as she wept freely at the podium, her hands no longer shaking. 
“Lots of love, your shitty baby sister, Bugsy.” She finished with a small whine, her expression broken as she folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope, the cursive lettering of her big sister’s name staring back at her. Finishing where she’d started. 
Tucking the letter underneath a tulip wreath atop the coffin, she stepped back down off the podium, ignoring the way the eyes followed her back to her seat, ignoring the way Derek rubbed her shoulder affectionately, or the way JJ handed her a packet of tissues, even though her own face was flooded, and showed no signs of stopping. She felt Spencer grab her hand in his delicately, entwining their fingers together, and squeezing lightly. 
The priest continued with a hymn, though she didn’t bother singing it. She just stared at her shoes, as if her entire soul had been sucked from her the minute she’d ended the eulogy. 
Which it had, because that had been Emily’s last goodbye. 
She didn’t speak in the car on the way back to Spencer’s, not as Hotch pulled her in for a wide hug, rare and warm, even going so far as to stroke the back of her head with more affection than they’d ever seen him give her. 
“Call me if you need anything,” He’d murmured into the side of her head as he held her close, feeling two hands hesitantly wrap around his waist, as if she wasn’t entirely switched on which, going by the vacant look on her face she wasn’t. 
Spencer made her tea the moment they got in. She didn’t ask for it, she just sat on the sofa and stared at the beat up, old TV he kept only for the occasional documentary, and for the shows she liked to watch too of course. But she hadn’t even switched it on, just stared at the inky black glass like it would jump to life itself and tell her how to feel. 
He took a seat next to her, on the other end of the couch, flicking the screen on for something to stop it from being so silent in his home; the silence meant they were alone with their thoughts, and for once he and his thoughts couldn’t stand being together. He didn’t want to interrupt her, or be the first to break the quiet. Not even when he watched her tea go cold in front of her, or as she barely acknowledged the cartoon on the TV, or when he pulled out his copy of The Brothers Karamazov that he’d been re-reading for the third time. 
“Would you like me to read to you? Would that be better?” He asked tentatively, and she didn’t even blink, as if she were some sort of zombie or corpse sitting next to him programmed for instruction on acting human. 
She said nothing, but she did move, the act of it making him jump slightly, and it was then he realised she had been perfectly still for the past half an hour, barely even showing signs of breath. A puppet with no master. 
She leaned over, her body dropping onto the sofa softly as if she was taking a nap, only for her head to rest on his thigh, and his hand flew to pull the claw clip out of her hair like he read her mind. Her knees nestled to her chest, in foetal position, her pretty black dress, the same one she’d worn for Haley’s funeral riding up past her knees. 
He gently tucked his long fingers into her roots, stroking her hair like she were a tame cat curled in his lap, clearing his voice as he continued where he’d left off, making sure he wasn’t reading too fast the way he would if it was just him. 
His head still whirled around the eulogy she’d read. How watching her crack beneath the weight of her own words had hurt him more than his own grief, had made him bury whatever it was he felt and just need to put her back together again. 
Because he didn’t need an eidetic memory to have ingrained what she’d said into his head, not even as they went to bed, and she burrowed into his side in one of his sweatshirts he usually saved for his own bad days. 
“Bug,” He braved to say, watching her eyes force themselves open from where they were on the very lip of sleeping, “You’re my very best friend, did you know that?” 
She hummed, her nose digging into his arm that he wound under her head, pulling her close enough he could feel her heartbeat against his own where she was in the crook of his neck. 
“I love you,” She said, like those three words didn’t rip the air from his lungs. 
Not even as her breathing finally evened out, and he felt himself heave a sigh of relief; the bags under her eyes had been more noticeable today than ever. Not even when he dared a kiss to her forehead as she slept, the smell of her shampoo completely taking over his pillow as he allowed his own heart to hurt for just a few moments, missing his friend dearly as he looked after the woman.
Love is a person you want to spend every day making them happy, and make them proud to say they love you too. 
He knew then.
TAGLIST
@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33
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blizzardstarx · 11 months ago
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OH MY GOD 😭😭 /pos
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PREACH!!!
The Schmidts updated!
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39 notes · View notes
sweetiechenle · 11 days ago
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liability ᕱ⑅ᕱ jeno
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pairing: non-idol!jeno x afab!bunnyhybrid!reader
summary: no matter how badly you wanted to deny it, jeno was your home
warnings: slight prostitution in the beginning (don't do that???), you get beat up but its not that descriptive (sorry), cursing, reader is stubborn and jeno is kinda obsessed w you (in a good way) like its love at first sight, its serious for him, found family, little soulmate au, strangers to lovers, strangers to roommates(?), talks about class status, if i forgot anything i'm sorry, fiction ≠ reality
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it was as if you could feel the air move right through you, it sent a shiver down your spine, yet you stood tall on the side of the road. a couple more girls were with you, some had already found their ‘date’ for tonight. you had seen some clients earlier in the night, but now it was up to random people to come and seek you out. you were dying to get back to your hotel, but your inner demon had won the fight earlier to stay out a little longer to make more money since your hotel room was only up until the morning, you needed it for a couple more days before going elsewhere. it was straightforward for now, but life for a poor, family-less hybrid never was easy, decade after decade, it never got better, so it was up to you and other poor hybrids to fend for themselves.
your mother and father died when you were younger and their guardians didn’t want to be the only ones to have to take care of you. so they left you to rot in shelters and pounds, you barely remember them at all now that you’re older. hybrids don’t really own houses because they usually would have a guardian, while renting apartments was debatable. only if a landlord would allow it, most of the time it wasn’t worth it. hybrids, most of the time didn’t get jobs either, so employers didn’t really hire, so there was no real way for you to make money other than sleeping around for it. it wasn’t fun or ideal but it was better than being starving and ‘homeless’ (or not living from hotel to hotel). you looked around in the dark, only the street lamp illuminating the faces of the other girls near you, telling one, who was a tabby cat hybrid, that you’d be walking down the street looking for potential clients. ‘be safe’ she said before you disappeared into the night, you had said the same.
no matter how many years you’ve been doing this, dark alleys and corners always freaked you out, it was better to stay in groups, but you needed the money. you scratched behind your long ears, picking up sounds in the night, as cars drove past you. one stopped a block away from you, the window was rolled down and that only meant one thing. You took a deep breath and braced yourself, walking towards the car. crouching down to the window, you leaned in.
‘get in’ the random stranger said, you sighed while opening up the car door, it was like clockwork and you were used to the rudeness of strangers. ‘what breed are you?’ the question was normal, some hybrid breeds were more desirable than others, thankfully you being an english lop was more enticing than others.
the stranger drove off with you in the passenger seat, he stopped in an alley which was normal for the most part. you braced yourself, this part was always the worst, it was always awkward trying to set the atmosphere, especially with someone like him who wasn’t much of a talker. you started to take off your shirt, it wasn’t until you felt a sharp pain in your stomach. closing your eyes in pain you groaned and you looked down and all you could see was red and you felt a throbbing pain shoot up and down. looking around, you noticed the open space outside, reaching for the door handle, it opened as you pulled weakly. falling to the ground, your knees hit the concrete hard, but all you cared about was getting out alive. you heard of shit like this happening, poor, homeless hybrids you knew going missing, and you silently cursed yourself for not being more careful.
not knowing where to go, you shuffled on the ground, crawling to wherever you could. you touched your stomach and wiped your tears, terrified that you’d end up as another nameless hybrid; dead. you saw shoes and looked up at the stranger towering over you, ‘please’ you cried. there was no way of convincing him anymore as he kicked your torso, you fell to the ground on your side, groaning and trying to roll up in a ball, crying as you felt heavy punches coming down. your head kept hitting the concrete with every punch, and you gagged on the taste of your blood and tears.
your eyes eventually grew heavy and there were no more tears left in you, only fatigue as the concrete below you cooled your body down. after what seemed like hours you hear murmurs around you, causing your body to jerk awake. panicked that the stranger was back to finish the job, you tried to move away with all of the strength you had left. before you could get away you could feel yourself getting lifted off of the ground, and put into a vehicle. Once the stranger set you down gently on the seat you lost consciousness again.
as you came closer to your senses, you could hear people talking and the beeping of random machines, everything was cloudy and you couldn’t see very well even though your eyes were open wide. with a shot of adrenaline, trying to get up you huffed and pulled at the cables that connected you to the machines. in a frenzy, random people stormed at you with concerning looks saying things like ‘no’, ‘don't do that’, and ‘lay back down’. you tried to push them away, scared of the unknown situation you got yourself into, the doctors eventually got you back down on the bed. a lady sat in front of you, explaining everything, you tried to grasp the conversation and to piece everything that happened together, someone had picked you up and taken you to the alley and beat you. then someone found you and took you to the hospital, of course, no cops were going to be involved, you were just a poor hybrid. she informed you that the person who picked you up would be willing to let you stay with him since you were not chipped. you nodded, knowing you didn’t have a guardian to go back to.
after the sudden adrenaline wore off, you could now feel the pain that was inflicted the night before, the nurse told you that you had broken your wrist, cuts along your body, and major bruising and swelling, but that you should be making a full recovery soon. you sighed, scared of what will happen to you now. after a couple of minutes, a nurse and a man entered your room, you stopped watching the tv and looked at them, the nurse started, ‘y/n, this is jeno, he was the one who picked you up last night and brought you here, he decided that you can stay with him until you fully recover.’ you nodded, ‘he already signed you out, so you can leave whenever, if you feel any worse, come back and see us and we can take care of you again.’ you were surprised at how kindly they were treating you, he must be very important to be able to give you treatment here in a human hospital…
you had no choice but to trust this man, it was either go with him or go back outside and fend for yourself waiting for your attacker to come find you at any moment. you sighed and followed him outside, moving slowly due to your injuries, you took notice of how he waited for you whenever you fell behind. he took you to his car in the parking lot, opening the passenger door up for you, you glanced at him, and he motioned for you to get in, and you eventually did. jeno was beautiful, he had a boyish look but somehow still looked mature, he wore a suit that looked expensive, and he always had a permanent smile with kind eyes, he looked like someone you could trust. you hoped to god he was someone to trust. you kept staring at him until he glanced over at you, his mouth slightly upturning in amusement.
‘got any family?’ he asked you. you shook your head as if he was watching (he wasn’t).
‘no’ you answered meekly
‘got any friends?’ he asked again.
same answer ‘no… unless you count other prostitutes’ you said lowly, almost embarrassed.
he hummed in response, ‘is that what you were doing last night?’ another question and you were growing tired, leaning your head on the window, watching the trees go past.
you stayed silent for a minute, letting the question marinate in your head before finally answering him, ‘gotta make money somehow’.
‘where were you staying? i can go pick up your things’ he offered and you took your head off of the window to look at him.
‘you’d do that for me? It’s not a lot of stuff…’ you didn’t want to sound like a burden, first, he saved your life, taking you in until you fully healed, and now he wants to go out of his way to help you get back what little you had. ‘honestly, the hotel probably threw it all away by now’ you looked down and played with the ends of the sweater the hospital put on you, the only outfit you had right now.
he sighed and you could tell he was already frustrated, ‘well if that’s the case, i’ll just get you more things, as of right now you are my responsibility.’ he answered and you decided to leave it at that for the rest of the trip.
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‘okay he is rich’, you concluded as he pulled up to his apartment in the middle of seoul, you don’t even think you’ve ever seen this part of the city before. he parked the car and went around to open up your door and help you out, he left you to stand there as he handed his keys to someone else who took the car to god knows where. ‘come on’, he guided you to the front of the door, opening it with a key card and taking you to the elevator, the security guard glaring at you as you walked past him behind jeno.
the elevator ride was silent until jeno spoke up first, ‘i apologize, my apartment is kind of a mess… i didn’t expect any guests.’ he laughed a little bit to lighten up the mood.
you gave him a little smile, trying to make light of the situation, ‘it’s fine i didn’t expect to end up in a hospital’. he didn’t say anything else.
you waited as he unlocked the door, opening it for you, which further confirmed your thought that he’s rich… thanking the heavens that you weren’t picked up by anyone else. the living room was spacious with an open-concept kitchen and appliances that cost more money than what you would see in your entire life, he started to show you around, and you followed him. ‘this is the living room’ obviously, you thought to yourself but didn’t want to ruin the show, so all you did was nod as you walked from room to room. he showed you his room, where the bathroom was that you could use, and then he opened the door to another bedroom stating, ‘this can be your room! i’m sorry it looks really boring…’ he looked down at his feet, almost shy to face you, ‘to be honest, i’ve never really had any interactions with any other bunny hybrids, one of my close friends, haechan, has a bunny hybrid named jaemin though, i’m not sure what breed… i plan on calling him and seeing what i should do… he’s really nice, you should meet him sometime, like a playdate or something…’ he was trailing off and you giggled lowly as he voiced his train of thought, he looked up at you and excused himself to go call his friend, telling you to ‘make yourself feel at home in the meantime’, you weren’t sure what he intended, never really having a ‘home’... you decided to take a look around, taking in the scent of the man who is housing you so you can become familiar with it. he was in the kitchen, taking out pots and pans and glancing at his phone ever so often, ‘what are you doing?’ you asked him.
‘making us dinner, i called haechan, he can come by next week with jaemin if you’d like to meet him, he’s a rabbit hybrid just like you.’
you felt uneasy, you wanted to please him, but the thought of being around a lot of strangers overwhelmed you, he took notice of your silence and the way you began to fiddle with your sleeve, ‘just think about it for right now’ he said giving you a reassuring smile, ‘you should go lay down and i’ll let you know when dinner is ready.’ you nodded and left him to it.
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you don’t remember when you fell asleep but you gasped when someone shook you awake, almost giving you a heart attack, but it was only jeno looming over you beside your bed. you stared at him with wide eyes, as if asking ‘why would you do that!?’. he gave you a sheepish smile, ‘dinner is ready… i have a surprise for you!’ you got up and followed him to the kitchen. he pulled out your chair and you sat down without another word, he brought you a hot, steaming bowl that smelled like carrots, maybe a bit too much on the nose, which made you silently laugh. he put something else down for you, ‘that’s for you,’ it was an old iphone, ‘i can’t,’ you refused to take it, there was no way you could pay him back for it, ‘don’t worry its an old phone, you need to have a way to contact me while i’m at work in case you need anything.’ he was trying really hard to get you to take it and it was kind of annoying. ‘you don’t even know me’ you said, pushing it away, he had already sat down across from you, eating his own meal. He decided to ignore your stubbornness, ‘eat your food before it gets cold,’ you had no choice but to oblige.
after dinner, you offered to help clean up, but he refused, telling you to go sit on the couch and find something for them to watch, you sighed and sat down on the leather couch, getting comfortable, as you were channel surfing it dawned on you that you shouldn’t be getting too comfortable, this was all temporary anyways. glancing down at your bandaged wrist, when it was the day to take it off, when your bruises faded, when your cuts healed; that was the time you knew you had to leave, saying goodbye to your savior and his warm house he invited you to. you thought to yourself that it was probably out of pity and to save his ego, now he’ll be able to tell people ‘well i saved someone from dying, what did you do last night?’ you felt shame, that you were just using him, and that you were burdening him, it was embarrassing and you looked to the front door debating if you should just save him the trouble and leave tomorrow to go back to your old hotel and beg for a room and your stuff back. you looked up when you felt the other side of the couch dip, you looked up at him, he had changed out of his suit and he was now in sweats and a white t-shirt that didn’t look as expensive. before he could say anything you decided to speak, ‘why?’ was all you could say, it was all you wanted to know, like you stated before, he didn’t know you and you didn’t know him, so why did he care so much? why did he want to help you so badly? he cleared his throat and sighed, collecting his thoughts of what to say, ‘i was working late, i never work that late, but i had a project i’d been working on with my team. the stress was eating me alive so i wanted to finish it as soon as possible,’ you nodded, wanting him to keep going, ‘after i finally finished, i called my friend who was at a bar near where you were… so i went and had a drink, and when i was leaving… that's when i saw you.’ he closed his eyes and sighed, not wanting to upset you by bringing up what happened, ‘i couldn’t just leave you, you would’ve died.’ you hummed, knowing that much was true.
‘i don’t know, i guess it might've been the buzz of alcohol or something else compelling me to take you to the hospital. when they told me you needed to have emergency surgery for some of your injuries i couldn’t just leave until i knew you were okay… then they told me you weren’t chipped and probably didn’t have a home, so they told me they couldn’t perform surgery without a guardian, and i was at a real crossroad…’ you went wide-eyed as he recounted the night, ‘you didn’t…’ you whispered to him. he sighed and looked up at you, he was guilty and you couldn’t believe it… all for a stranger. ‘i signed some papers and you were sent off for surgery, they didn’t tell you, but he had stabbed you with a blunt object in your stomach, it wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t good either… you would’ve died.’ you were baffled, you couldn’t even form a thought of what to say to him, instead you got up and walked to your room, slamming the door and crawling into bed, leaving your new ‘guardian’ sitting on the couch.
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the light coming in through the blinds woke you up, and it hurt, your bones screaming for some kind of relief as you recovered from what had happened a couple of days before. you thanked yourself for being so exhausted that you didn’t even have time to have any nightmares about what happened, you guessed you’d gotten used to the trauma by being alone your whole life.
you groaned as you got up, taking as long as possible to go outside of your room, scared you’d see jeno. you peeked your head out and looked around the apartment, you could see that his bedroom door was left ajar and that the living room and kitchen were empty. You left your room and made your way to the kitchen table, noticing a note for you and the phone you refused to take last night right next to it. the note was from jeno obviously and you rolled your eyes at how it started with an apology for what happened last night, that he would be home later after work and to call him if you needed anything, and that lunch was in the fridge for you. you ate the lunch he prepared for you while playing on your ‘new’ phone. it was still early in the morning and you didn’t know when he would be back so you lounged around the apartment, taking a nap here and there until you heard the door open.
it was like a routine now, you would wake up, jeno would be gone, you’d eat lunch and wait for him to get back to do things with you, sometimes taking you out on a walk or watching tv when you felt too tired or sore to do anything else. it had already been a week with jeno and it was finally the weekend, a couple of days ago he asked if you wanted to meet haechan and jaemin, and you reluctantly agreed, if jeno trusted them then you would too.
jeno was making dinner for the four of you and you sat at the table, watching him go back and forth around the kitchen. ‘so, jaemin is a little hyper and can be touchy at times, don’t let him scare you, and don’t be afraid to push him off, he won’t get offended.’ you nodded, taking mental notes, ‘haechan is funny, if you like my jokes, you’ll laugh at his.’ you gave him a look and he stopped to look at you too, ‘i don’t laugh at your jokes.’ you told him, half messing with him and half telling the hard truth. he playfully rolled his eyes and went back to cooking without a single word.
jeno was putting on the finishing touches for dinner when the buzzer for the intercom rang, ‘oh that's them!’ he was running around the kitchen in a stripped apron with his black hair a mess, he put down the pot and ran to the door to buzz them in, in his white socks he slides on the wood floor and you stifle a laugh, ‘when they come to the door can you let them in?’ he asked. you agreed and got up to stand by the door and before you knew it, there was a knock, you opened it and was greeted with a very strong scent of another bunny hybrid, you didn’t even realize it had been almost a week and a half since you’ve seen another hybrid.
before anyone could be greeted a taller man pushed past the other one in front, who you assumed was haechan, and he grabbed you by the shoulders, which startled you a little bit. right from the get-go you knew this was jaemin. he was tall and undoubtedly handsome, the dirty blonde tinted hair matched his gray ears that stood up on his head. you had no choice but to stare into his big, dark eyes as he continued to hold a death grip on your shoulders. he took a deep breath, obviously taking in your scents, you tried to ignore the fact that jeno was staring at you. ‘i’ve heard so much about you’ the other bunny said. you smiled awkwardly and haechan came up to take jaemin away from you, muttering a ‘sorry about him’.
you helped jeno set the table, while talking with haechan and jaemin, trying to get to know them better, and continuing to talk throughout dinner. jeno was right, jaemin was very enthusiastic and hyper, and it took a lot to keep up with him in conversations. you learned that haechan had been ‘gifted’ jaemin when he was young, so they had known each other their whole lives. you tried not to feel jealous, wondering what that was like, to not have to worry about anything since the day you were born, to always have someone to watch over you. you looked back at jeno, who was talking with haechan, it reminded you of when he stated ‘you are my responsibility’ but yet you knew that what you yearned for was not with him, it scared you, knowing that any minute by the time you are fully healed, he’d give up liability and send you to the nearest shelter. you couldn’t have anything permanent like what jaemin and heachan had.
haechan and jaemin eventually left (not before exchanging phone numbers), leaving you and jeno to clean up, it was silent until jeno got your attention. ‘so i made you a doctors appointment, just to check on how you’re healing.’ you felt a sharp pain at your chest, you knew he meant well, but it scared you due to the fact that would mean you’re leaving sooner than you thought. ‘oh, thank you.’ was all you could say, ‘its in a week so make sure to be ready to leave before, i’ll remind you in a couple of days.’ you nodded, looking down at the table, wiping it clean.
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the night before your appointment (after watching reruns of trivia shows with jeno), you got into bed and took out your phone, searching up homeless shelters in the area for hybrids, looking over a few you saved their addresses to write down later incase jeno wouldn’t let you keep the phone when you eventually left. after a while your eyes grew heavy, and you fell asleep, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares but those were far and a few inbetween, you remember a couple nights ago when it got so bad you woke up thinking someone was trying to break in. it was really embarrassing since you even woke up jeno, who got up to go check the door, promising you that no one was there, he even let you sleep in his bed with him, reassuring you he wouldn’t let anyone get inside the apartment. thats when you felt your most safest, but you didn’t want to inconvenience him anymore, so you tried to deal with them on your own.
by the time morning came around you scrambled to get up out of bed in time for your appointment, it seemed like jeno was running late too since he was no where to be found. before you knew it, it was time to leave and jeno had called you, stating that he was outside and that he had run somewhere before your appointment. you left the apartment and met him outside, you got in his car and he asked you how you slept, you said ‘fine’ and he didn’t push any further. the car ride was silent and so was the doctors appointment, the nurse performed a physical and looked over your previous wounds to see how you were healing, jeno stayed in the waiting room until it was time to give an answer on what to do next.
jeno entered the room and the nurse informed him that you’d been healing fine and that the cast on your wrist could come off now and you were nervous, it made you feel even worse when jeno asked her ‘we can do that here? now, right?’ she nodded and told you both to wait as she went to go get the doctor to do it. you didn’t bother to look at him when he sat down in the small room, you noticed how it was a human hospital like before. ‘i bet you’re excited to get the cast off’ he stated, you hummed in response, refusing to look up at him. he continued, ‘i also bet you’re hungry, im sorry i wasnt there to make you breakfast this morning, i had a work emergency…’
before you could say anything, the doctor and the nurse had arrived to take off your cast. silently mourning the loss of the seal that bounded you and jeno together, you didn’t want to say good bye, but like all things you’ve experienced, nothing good ever lasts. after, jeno checked you out and despite not even telling him you were hungry, he still stopped by somewhere to pick you up food.
later that day it was silent around the apartment, the air was heavy and it felt like the both of you wanted to say something but neither of you would go first. until jeno finally decided to break the ice, and you braced yourself for the confrontation. he had called after you from your room, and you anxiously made your way to the kitchen, taking small steps as you scratched the back of your ears. he showed you something on his phone, it was your search history from last night, ‘whats this?’ he asked. you were at a loss for words, you really didn’t know what to say ‘ummm’ you looked anywhere but at him, ‘i just thought…’ you trailed off, waiting for him to say it. ‘that i wanted you to leave?’ he whispered, you could hear the hurt in his voice. you sighed, ‘i just thought… that once i got better, you didn’t want me here anymore.’ you confessed, still refusing to look at him. He sighed and brought is hand to rub his temple, trying to stay calm, ‘do you not trust me?’ he asked. in a small voice you answered, ‘you don’t even know me.’
he slammed his fist on the kitchen table making you jump. ‘y/n, you can’t be serious, i know we haven’t known each other for as long as say, heachan and jaemin, but i think i know you enough that i want you to stay… you yell at the tv when someone doesn’t get a trivia question right, you know all of the answers despite not going to school, only because you used to go to the library as a kid and read all the books you could. you cried when we watched titantic together even though you’ve told me you’ve seen it before. your ears twitch whenever the music is too loud in the car, and that you like when they are scratched late at night,’ he moved around the table and grabbed you by the shoulders, bringing you closer to him, ‘whenever i make you your favorite food you tap your foot on the floor,’ he was staring intensely into your eyes, trying to find any confirmation that you were wrong, ‘y/n… you told me that you don’t have a family but, the thing is, i don’t either. i don’t understand everything you’ve been through, but i want to, i need you to believe that you deserve love, a family.’ your eyes welled up with tears and you couldn’t see him anymore, it was all blurry, your chest rose and fell rapidly, ‘i know we haven’t known each other for a while, but ever since i met you, ive had more reasons to be here than i’ve had in years, all i do is work, come home, eat and sleep, and i repeat that, i- i don’t have anyone here to watch titanic with me, or to read me a book while i cook and do laundry.’
hot tears rolled down your face as you remember the book you started reading and then eventually to him after he had asked too many questions about it, it was almost over, too. so many thoughts were running around in your head, this had never happened to you, and like most good things, it almost had always seemed too good to be true, all the times you were almost adopted as a young child but nothing was ever permanent, you didnt want to be fooled, like this would be any different. you knew better. he shook your shoulders slightly as you hesitiated, ‘bunny, please say something… it feels as though we were supposed to meet’ he whispered.
in his embrace the room felt way too small and way too hot, without even thinking twice, you broke away from him and ran towards the door. opening it you slammed the oak shut, the noise echoed through the hallway, definitely alerted some of the neighbors. forgetting about the elevator the stairs would be faster, you could hear jeno call after you as you hopped down the staircase, trying to leave the building as fast as possible. the regular security guard gave you a concerned look and tried to ask if you were okay, but you rushed right past him and out of the front door, into the busy streets of seoul. moving with the crowd you had no clue where you were going and at this point, you didn’t care. you looked back to make sure you’d lost jeno in the crowd, he was the last person you wanted to see right now, certainly he was lying, all everyone did was use you, and how was this any different? you walked around seoul until you got too tired, you had already turned on airplane mode so jeno couldn’t track you or call, you stared at the time and then a picture of him as your wallpaper, one you took without him looking at the camera, you knew you’d have to face him sometime, only to tell him goodbye and give back the phone.
you sighed, calling jaemin for some company and advice, you asked him to join you at this random cafe you found and not to tell anyone else. he reluctantly agreed, saying he’d be there soon. when it started getting dark, he finally showed up and silently walked to your table and sat across from you. ever since you met him, he became your closest friend (that wasn’t jeno), you two texted constantly and he would keep you updated on the latest ‘memes’ and ‘tiktoks’, so it was only natural to call him and talk about it. ‘y/n, are you okay? you sounded kind of panicked over the phone… where is jeno?’ jaemin looked around. he was wearing a hat, hiding his ears and hair, he had on a leather jacket and a hoodie, bundled up against the cold air outside. ‘well…’ you started, now picking at your nails nervously, ‘i don’t know, i left.’ at that he whipped his head around to look at you, bewildered, ‘dude, he’s probably worried sick!?’
you groaned and burried your head into your crossed arms, hiding from everything, ‘thats the thing, he shouldn’t be, i didn’t think he wanted me to stay, he just still feels bad about what happened, i know all i am is just a burden.’ you confessed. ‘im not meant to stay anywhere, jaemin, that kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me…’ he looked at you and sighed, grasping your hands in his, making you look at him. ‘but that stuff could happen to you. i’ve known jeno for a long time and he always believed that this type of stuff doesn’t happen to him either. i’m not on his side or anything, but i’m just saying, maybe staying wouldn’t be the worse thing y/n, you deserve love and to love… remember when i was sad about the stupidest thing and you still tried to send me a funny picture to cheer me up?’ you smiled at the memory, ‘no matter what you’ve been through, you still try to care, even if its just a little bit… maybe you should follow through with it and see where it could lead you.’ you looked down at your intertwined hands, and your vision blurred again with tears, ‘im just so scared jaemin,’ he nodded, ‘i just don’t want to get too attached to him, and then watch him leave me like everyone else.’ you admitted in a small voice, ‘i know, i know’ jeamin reassured you again, ‘but i know jeno, he follows through with his promises… you know,’ he scoffed and laughed at himself, ‘i was going to ask you to be my mate…’ you looked up at him in shock, your eyes meeting his soft brown ones, you retracted your hands from his, he waved his in front of you, not wanting to give you the wrong message, ‘but i couldnt, listen, i thought i had a crush on you, but you can’t be my mate, thats because jeno is.’ you groaned and hid your face again in your arms, forehead against the cool, metal table as you tried not to have a panic attack.
before you both could say anything, you noticed the cafe worker coming up to you, her read shoes now peeking in through your fingers, ‘um, miss? im sorry but haven’t ordered anything in almost an hour, if you aren’t going to get anything you need to leave.’ you lifted your head to look at her, she visibly cringed at the site, your hair was a mess and you had tears and snot everywhere, your eyes were probably bloodshot red and your sniffling nose matched the hue. jaemin stood up first, ‘we were just leaving’ he said sternly, grabbing your arm to get you to stand up and walk outside with him. the air was cold, you shivered, reminding you about the night you met the stranger who put you in the hospital, the fateful night when you would eventually meet jeno. You stayed close to jaemin, hyper aware of everything around you now, your ears picking up all kinds of sounds, your nose picking up all kinds of scents, some including jaemin, and you hated that you even tried to pick up jenos, but it wasn’t anywhere near you. you wondered if he was still looking for you, its been hours so he surely would’ve found you by now. you sighed in defeat, leaning your head against jaemins shoulders.
you watched him out of the corner of your eyes, getting out his phone and jumping slightly at the amount of missed calls from his own guardian, haechan. ‘hold on, i need to call him back. he called me like, so many times’ you moved away, giving him some personal space as he talked on the phone, the call lasted for a couple of minutes with jaemin mostly listening and only saying a couple words. He ended the call and sighed looking over at you, and you could tell what the call was about. you turned and walked away from him, trying again to get out of the situation, he grabbed you and pulled you by the hood of your hoodie, ‘not so fast rabbit!’ he pulled you closer, trying to get you to listen, ‘did anything i say earlier not mean anything? y/n, go back home. haechan told me that jeno is freaking out and… he might have called the cops to go out and find you…’ you sighed, not realizing the lengths jeno would go, ‘i would suggest we head there now, or you can arrive in the back of a cop car! your choice’ jaemin stated a matter of factly. ‘fuck. i hate that you’re right. kind of about everything.’ jaemin nodded, ‘i know it will be hard at first, but at least try and you’ll eventually get it, i promise.’ he gave you an encouraging smile and helped you get back home.
as you got closer and closer you could see the flashing lights from the two cop cars, you stopped on the broken side-walk which made the other rabbit stop too, ‘jaemin, i can’t go in there, this is so humiliating.’ you buried your face in your hands, face growing hot from the realization that you now have to face jeno and the cops of seoul, people who already didn’t like you that much because of your past job. jaemin grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the apartment building, ‘just ignore them, nothing will ever change with them so why does it matter?’ you groaned and let him do all the work, he stopped you from falling over when you were met with the familiar door to the tall building, ‘let me tell haechan to buzz us in.’ he stated as he typed furiously on his phone, the door was buzzed and opened within a matter of seconds, the elevator ride was silent as you grew more and more nervous to face the tall, dark haired man that you ran away from only hours before.
you both ignored the stares from the cops, the door to the apartment was open so jaemin just motioned for you to enter silently. you feared that everyone else could hear how loud your heart was beating, but probably only jaemin noticed. once you slipped inside, your eyes immediately landed on jeno at the kitchen table, biting his fingernail as he stared down at his phone, haechan nudged the older man causing him to look up at you standing in the doorway. he slowly rose from his seat, the legs scratching the floor making an ungodly sound as haechan walked past you and grabbed jaemin, and the front door closed, leaving just you and jeno. he walked to you slowly, trying not to scare you off again.
‘jeno…’ you started and looked down at your fidgeting hands, he gave you an eye smile that only existed on special occasions, despite leaving he was still happy to see you. ‘my bunny,’ he whispered and brought you in for a hug, you closed your eyes and finally embraced him back, giving him the silent confirmation that you wanted to stay, ‘i was so worried about you’ he murmured against your hair, and you could hear it perfectly. you took in his familiar scent, causing you to unknowingly rub your chin on his shoulder, in order to spread your scent on him. he didn’t seem to mind, only breaking away so you could finally talk to him, ‘you talk about cars even though i don't understand a thing, you love jelly candy, and you share your mint chocolate ice cream with me…’ his dark eyes stared back into yours, listening intently, ‘you hate math and you let me play your video games even though im really bad and i mess up your rankings, but you don’t care.’ he looked to the side and playfully remarked, ‘i only care a little bit’ you scoffed and played along, hitting his shoulder slightly as he laughed at your reaction.
the laughter died down and he continued to stare at you with such adoration and care, you thought about what jaemin said earlier, how he wasn’t your mate. jeno is. you shifted your weight from one foot to the other as jeno came closer again, gracing your cheek with his calloused hand. you could see the birthmark on his check much clearer, wanting to kiss it, instead you looked back into his eyes, through his dark bangs that tempted to cover them. he had almost the same idea as he brushed the hair from your face with his other hand, cupping your other cheek now. he leaned in and so did you, feeling less tense you melted into his touch, eventually your forehead was against his and you closed your eyes as you felt him hum. ‘my bunny…’ he was breathless and you were glad you were so close so jeno couldn’t see the major blushing that nickname had caused.
you left it alone, instead grabbing his cheeks in return, surprising him, you brought your nose up to his, and he smiled, remembering when jaemin explained what this gesture meant. you pulled away and giggled a little at how his blush now matched yours, ‘are you going to stay?’ he wanted to make sure this time, wanted to hear you say you wouldn’t leave, to promise him. ‘i thought about what you said earlier’ he nodded, ‘thank you for saving my life’. he beamed and leaned in, heart almost bursting out of his chest, you closed your eyes as he got closer, and eventually, your lips met his. your hands lightly cupping his face again while he moved his down to your waist to bring you closer. his lips were soft and he tasted like the strawberry chapstick he had bought you but kept using, it made you smile, only to make him smile in return. jeno backed up and looked at you, ‘thank you for saving mine.’
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losing-it-lately · 9 months ago
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Would you consider a Remus Lupin x reader where reader is an animagi probably like a smaller animal maybe like a cat or something and Remus has them falling asleep on him and not realizing it’s reader until he’s openly talking about his feelings toward them and the reader in animagi form is like 👀👀👀
Remus Lupin with an Animagi!reader
wc: 0.7k
remus lupin x reader fluff
not exactly as per the request, but i hope you enjoy it :)
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Soft and warm and happy. You were everything that Remus Lupin felt like he didn't get in his life. And even when he didn't know it, you still brought an unfiltered joy into his life.
The Gryffindor common room had seen some recent changes, the biggest one being Remus’ new companion, a scrappy, furry little thing that hung on his shoulder or in his sweater. Cats had always been allowed in Gryffindor, but a small kitten was a new update.
He had found you lingering around the whomping willow; playing and dancing around the tree’s various attacks. With your soft wispy fur and your long whiskers, immediately he was enthralled. Not to mention, he had needed something to keep him going after his transformation the night before.
So you two became a pair, a loved pair. Little first years would surround Remus asking to pet you and James and Sirius would use you for pranks and Remus would let you sleep in his bed. He really loved you, even when you were gone, he would patiently wait.
But what he didn't know was that you were never actually gone.
You were intelligent, for sure. And you were loud, and fun, and crass, and all the things that made people laugh loudly and smile unabashedly. Remus saw something bright and spunky in you and the way you’d light the people around you. And whilst your otherwise silly jokes made people assume the least, your unrestrained time in the library and constant practice and yearning for your curiosity to be satisfied resulted in an early animagi status.
Though intensely illegal to practice that kind of magic underage and without recognition from the ministry, becoming an animagi fulfilled a part of yourself that otherwise you wouldn't have ever felt complete without. When you first transformed into that small tabby, the world around you went silent. You felt different and the same, you were content.
So you continued, spending time in your new form doing whatever random tasks you wanted to do. And eventually, you picked up a companion who unbeknownst to you, knew both sides of the coin.
Remus had started taking you into account on the sorting ceremony of that year. You had accidentally turned up late and took the first empty seat you saw, the one next to him. The both of you had never spoken one on one until that moment, and he swears that he didn't know what a proper laugh felt like until you uttered that first joke; even better, he didn't know what an angel sounded like until he heard your laugh.
Then, he would see you in the library, in his potions class, in the gryffindor common room, it was like you were everywhere, until you weren't.
He stopped seeing you as often and assumed that maybe, maybe he wasn't as down bad as he had been before, maybe he was getting over you. And then you sat next to him in potions and all of his feelings came tumbling back.
Remus rushed to his dorm room with his face blushing all different colours and his fingers picking at his scars. He was spiraling and didn't know what he could do, until he saw her: his little tabby rolling on his bed, waiting patiently.
He scooped her up, letting her eyes match his at eye level, and started confiding.
“I don't know what to do,” he stuttered, his hands engulfing her arms. “I need her so badly, she's perfect for me.”
You were confused to say the least, purring and distracting him from whatever ailed him. It was unbecoming, watching Remus ramble about his dream girl, until he mentioned your name. Your eyes widened, and you jumped out of his hands. Sometimes being smart isn't enough and in this case, you had no idea what to do. You scampered back out of his line of vision and into your room, transforming back and realising you had to do something, you had to make a move.
All week, Remus waited for his tabby to come back, and come Hogsmeade, he went out to buy her some treats. Mid his store run, you found him, looking between aisles for various different snacks.
“I want to talk to you,” you smiled and he felt his world turn a little faster.
Remus abandoned the snacks and you led him outside, to a bench. He felt something shift inside him as you stared into his eyes.
“I really like you,” he burst out, his normal composure almost disappearing now that he was this close to you. You softly laughed and he felt his heartbeat quicken.
“We should go and share a butterbeer.”
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luvologyy · 2 months ago
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Crew headcannons.
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Characters: Anya, daisuke, curly (before crash), Swansea, jimmy..(ik ik🙄)
Dating headcannons next ! ᵔᴗᵔ
A/N: my first post hai guys 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
Anya
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Age: 27 ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ
Height: 5'6
Anya is Vietnamese and Brazilian 🇧🇷🇻🇳 her mom is Vietnamese, and her dad is from Brazil.
Graduated at the age of 18
She's closer to her Vietnamese side of her family but still close with her dad's side
She's the oldest sister over her younger brother and sister
She's bisexual but prefers women
LOVES TABBY CATS AND PERSIAN CATSS
Her favorite subjects in school were math and science
Has a small shelf with shoes, sandals, and slippers near her front door
NEVER WEARS SHOES INSIDEE ALWAYS.
Used to have doctors play kits and play doctor with her dad when she was a kid🩷
She prefers wine over any other kind of alcohol. Fancy.
She uses rose scents or clean scented hygiene products/perfume (daisuke HATES when she uses floral stuff)
HATES seafood.
Is an older sister figure to daisuke, always looking out for him
She used to smoke then quitted (proud of her)
Dresses in frilly long skirts with bigger shirts and cardigans for everyday clothes
Wears sm eyeliner or mascara she literally brings like 6 tube's of each
Wear doc Martin loafers
Loves Sims 4
Listens to artists/bands like The Cranberries, TV girl, Clairo, Laufey, Beabadoobee, MARINA, and Lana Del Rey.
She'd rather smell like roses or raspberries
Her favorite color is purple
Daisuke
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Age: 22 ᵔᴗᵔ
Height: 5'11
His full name is Daisuke Juarez
He's filipino and Hawaiian 🇵🇭 (WHERE MY FILIPINOS ATT?)
Gooner.
He listens to K-pop groups like stray kids, enhypen, or kiss of life
He listens to artists/bands like Steve Lacy, beabadoobee, Tyler the creator, creepy nuts, frank ocean, and sun-kissed Lola
LOVES LISTENING TO ATARASHII GAKKO
SOME BEABADOOBEE REFFERANCES IN HEREE.
He's from Californiaa
He smells like oranges or fruit punch
Daisuke is fluent in tagolog
Taught Swansea to say "putang Ina" thinking it meant "thank you" 💀
Him cackling in the corner when Swansea says it to the other crew members.. hay nako.
Likes watching ghibli movies, his fav ghibli movie is spirited away.
Sometimes, accidently calls anya "ate anya" (ate = older sister) he gets embarrassed but anya doesn't mind it.
He plays baseball
Gossips about old people from school with anya
LOVES PHÓ NOODLES (anya would always make it)
Loves building lego sets
If he was in the hunger games, he would die IMMEDIATELY. He'll just start crying
Daisukes a horrible liar. HE'LL LIE ABOUT THE MOST STUPIDEST THINGS.
Reader: "daisuke, did you take my candy bar?"
"... no." The wrapper sticking our his pocket..
*You raise your eyebrow at him*
* sigh* "yeah.."
He thinks that santa is real
He would have anime girl posters in his room😭
He likes reptiles. He'd have a pet beared dragon and put tiny hats on it
He collects Pokémon cards
He likes beetles
Daisukes favorite drinks are Arizona teas or apple cider
SNORES SO LOUDLY.
Captain Curly
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Age: 35 ˊˎ-
Height: 6'5
He's Australian 🇦🇺 NO DENYING.
He moved to the U.S. in his early teens (13 or 14) with the rest of his family, then met Jimmy in high school
Actually enjoys watching YouTube shorts..
He'd have the newest or most expensive iPhone and not know how to use it 😭
HE CRIES WHILE WATCHING DISNEY MOVIES.. what a REAL man.
PLEASEE teach this man to season his food😭🙏 ITLL SAVE HIS LIFE.
Decorates his house in Christmas decorations as soon as November starts
He's sings in the shower and wears shower caps (he's extra like that)
Played hockey in high school
PLEASE INTRODUCE YOUR CULTURES FOOD TO HIM, it'll be his new favorite
Snores but isn't as loud as daisuke
He loves history. It was his favorite subject in school
He smells like clean laundry
Uses dove products or method bodywash
Has containers of protein powder
Goes to the gym almost everymorning
He still has an Australian accent (MMMH🙈)
He's allergic to peanuts or other nuts straight up (he missing outt)
Growing up, he had a tree house in his backyard and hung out with Jimmy when they were teens, and they always decorated it with posters and lights
Went to military school with Jimmy
He's such a millennial.. he'd laugh at the most unfunniest Facebook quotes. It's sad.
"Cmon, you can't say this is so funny!"
"Curly, it's not that funny.."
"IT makes sense though!"
"CAPTAIN NO.."
"..aw."
He always helped Jimmy with his school work in high school
He HATES it when people crack their knuckles. HATES IT
He likes musicals his favorites are Hamilton and Chicago
He keeps old trophies and jerseys from his high school hockey team hung up on shelves or frames
He listens to punk floyd, cigarettes after sex, the weekend, beyonce, and sade
Jimmy
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Age: 34 ᝰ.ᐟ
Height: 6'2
He's polish and white 🇺🇸🇵🇱
He drinks really bitter black coffee. He thinks adding sugar ruins it.
He smells like cigarettes and liquor
He only uses men scented products (idek if he showers but wtv)
He met curly in highschool
He always skipped class and snuck out of school while curly was the exact opposite
He took a little Spanish in highschool
He also went to military school with curly and made him sneak out of campus with him
He listens to divorced dad rock like blink 182, linkin park, limp bizkit, ac/dc, and radio head
Listens to other artists, too like icp, judas priest, metallica, Nirvana, Rob Zombie, or ozzy osbourne
He used to steal or break into cars when he was in his teens.
He lived with his dad and older brother after he lost his mom at a young age.
He sleeps in his underwear. If not, he's sleeping in pj pants with no shirt
His favorite subjects in high school were gym and history
Even though he skipped class, he still has favorites!
Besides the rock and metal he'll listen to, he loves listening to SADE. (It's his guilty pleasure for him) aww
Every time he'll listen to SADE, it'll remind him of his mom he lost
Thinks toaster struddles are better than pop tarts
He used to smoke weed, I can kinda see it in him.
He honestly likes chemistry and math, even if they weren't his favorites
SUCKED ASS in English class, He couldn't write poems and essays for shit.
Swansea
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Age: 58 ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ
Height: 5'10
MERICAAA🇺🇸🔥 RAHH
Married to his wife of 30 years (sorry, Swansea fans)
He sneezes so LOUDLY
He snores like a loud train
Has 2 daughters and 1 son
Likes cooking barbecue
He likes to take his family camping and teaches his kids how to fish
He definitely shops at Costco or Sam's club
He'd get confused when his daughters would put selfie filters on him, but he doesn't mind. Whatever makes em happy
He always puts his kids in sports clubs
He used to be a coach for baseball
A/N: sorry these suck😑
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