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luveline · 6 months

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hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers.

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking.

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.”

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.”

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks.

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says.

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.”

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does.

She grins. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You all done?”

“Yep.”

“Not hungry anymore?”

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.”

“Thanks, beautiful.”

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?”

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night.

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch.

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests.

“I’m tired.”

“It’s not bed time.”

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat.

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it.

“That sound fun or what?”

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder.

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.”

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.”

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask.

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns.

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided.

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids.

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday.

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now.

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily.

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.”

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.”

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter.

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!”

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says.

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?”

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?”

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.”

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says.

“I didn’t say one!”

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.”

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.”

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks.

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?”

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips.

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying.

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says.

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?”

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest.

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out.

“Oh, no,” Avery says.

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.”

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else.

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks.

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.”

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.”

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say.

“Gonna get Beth changed.”

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.”

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed.

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?”

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask.

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?”

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.”

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says.

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?”

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately.

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.”

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.”

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!”

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.”

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.”

“Sorry,” she laughs.

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?”

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player.

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?”

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs.

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in.

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time.

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time.

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.”

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous.

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says.

You catch his hand. “I got you one.”

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth.

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter.

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?”

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?”

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin.

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff.

“Feels too good to be true.”

“My turn tonight,” he says.

“No, baby, it’s my turn.”

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say.

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke.

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.”

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back.

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.

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ocinstar · 10 days

Text

Heart and soul

Spencer reid x reader

Summary: slow dancing in your living room turns into an unexpected proposal.

Cw: fluffy fluff, established relationship, use of y/n, use of "mrs" and "girl" (but other than that theres not much fem pronouns)

Wc: 1877

A/n: first time writing a slow dancing scene guys!

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I wasn't having the best day. I had been called in earlier for work since they were understaffed and had to do the majority of the work. I didn't have any more coffee left at home and didn't have time go get some from the coffee shop, so I were tired all day with no aid. On top of all of that, my boyfriend had been gone for almost 3 days and I didn't know when he'd be back.

Of course I knew Spencers job was important, he was saving lives and catching killers. But it would be nice to have him all to yourself for a week before he was swept to a different state. Spencer and I talked on the phone every night and texted each other throughout the day, but it wasn't the same. Not having him next to me in bed every night has severely messed with my sleep schedule, missing the warmth of him next to me. You'd think after 2 years of this that it'd get easier, but it really hasn't.

I felt so much lighter as you walked up to your apartment door, feeling relieved to know the day was over and you could relax. You thought about the warm shower and nap you were going to take as you unlocked the door. As you opened the door, you were pleasantly surprised to see spencer sitting on the couch with a book in his hand. He looked up as you shut the door behind you.

"Hi, love." He smiled, getting up to greet me. He kissed me on the cheek and took the purse off my shoulder and onto the table beside the door.

"Hey, I thought you weren't gonna be back till tomorrow?" I wrapped my arms around his torso and smiled up at him, happy for him to be home so early.

"Case ending sooner than I expected, thought I'd surprise you." He gestured behind him with his head. I looked over to the coffee table to see a spread of food from our favorite Chinese restaurant and my favorite a bottle of wine. I got excited just at the sight of the feast he had bought for the both of you.

"Oh thank god, I'm starving." I unwrapped my arms from him, hurrying over to the food. He laughed as I wasted no time in filling up my plate and shoveling food into my mouth.

"How was your day?" Spencer asked as he sat down beside me, filling up his own plate much slower than I had.

"Better now." I said, words muffled by the food in my mouth. Before eating, he opened the bottle of wine and poured me a glass.

"Thank you, honey." I said once I had swallowed my food. He smiled at me and began to eat the noodles on his plate. Once I wasn't feeling so ravenous, I slowed my pace of eating, now taking normal sized bites.

"How was your case? Did you catch all the bad guys? Save the city?" I asked as U took another bite of chicken.

"I'm not batman." He laughed. With his work hours he mine as well be. "But yes, we did catch the "bad guy" and actually saved another victim."

I always felt proud of him when he tells me about his work. I mean, you're always proud of him. But there's something about the way he talks about the cases he works, the people he helps that just makes me extra proud.

"Gothem is saved once more!" We both shared a short laugh. We quickly fall into comfortable conversation as we finish our meal, him telling me as much from his case as he could without spoiling my appetite and me telling him about the day I had at work.

After eating as much as we could, we cuddled up on the couch. My head rested on his chest as his hand rubs my back. I listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat, sighing contently as he talked about a new book he had just finished.

"I should probably clean this up." He said after a few minutes of us cuddling.

"No, no, I'll clean up." I pushed myself up and crawled over him to get up.

"It's ok, I'll clean up. You relax." He stood up and began to stack our plates. I grabbed them from him before he could take them to the kitchen.

"No. I'm cleaning. It's the least I could do after you bought all this." He sighed in defeat and say back down. I kissed his forehead before grabbing as much containers as I could and heading to the kitchen.

As I tossed out plates into the sink and the empty food containers into the trash. I heard spencer shuffling around in the living room, then I heard the scratching of the record player and then the opening to "every time we say goodbye" by Ella Fitzgerald begin to play. I smiled to myself and walked out from the kitchen to see spencer standing nervously. He had dimmed the lights and lit a few candles.

"Dance with me?" He asked as he held his hand out to me.

"Always the romantic." I walked over to him and took hid hand. He pulled me into close to him, putting his other hand on my waist. We quickly fell into a steady rythme, swaying along to the music. I wasn't much of a dancer, so I let spencer lead me through step. We smiled at each other, never breaking eye contact as we danced.

He took the hand I had on his shoulder in his, pulling me in and pushing me out. I giggled as he pulled me back to him, wrapped his arm around my waist and holding me as close as humanly possible. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck and he rested his head on mine. I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of having him close. The world seemed to disappear completely, leaving just us in its wake. Any memories of that day had been completely erased from my mind and all i felt was peace.

"One last spin." I heard him say when the song was nearly over. I laughed and put some distance between us so he could spin me. He lifted his arm slightly, twirling me under it. He released my hand when I was turned towards him again.

I was confused for a moment, until I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a box. My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him drop to one knee, opening the box to reveal a beautiful ring. I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from screaming.

"I, uh, I had this whole speech planned out, but I forgot everything. I, um, I've never done this before- obviously. But, um-" he cleared his throat, trying to fight off the shakiness in his voice.

"Ok-" -he took a deep breath- "I love you. I love you more than everything in existence. I love how you make me better, I love waking up to you, I love how you push me to try new things even if it's out of my confort zone. You've taught me so much. You're my biggest supporter and my bestest friend. Every time I imagine my future, you are always in it. I couldn't imagine my life without you and I want to stay by your side forever. So, y/n l/n, will you marry me?" Happy tears ran down my cheeks as I listened to him.

"Yes! Yes!" I shouted loudly, practically jumping up and down from joy. I leap towards him ad he stood, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hard kiss. He stumbled back a little at the sudden force, but he quickly found his footing and wrapped his arms around my waist. My hands moved to cup his face and I pull him in closer. I pulled back, resting my forehead on his as we both smiled widely. We laughed when we saw the other, both of us with tear stained cheeks and goofy smiles.

"Oh right!" He sniffled and held up the ring box. He took my left hand in his, taking the ring from the box and slipping it on my ring finger. I marveled at the jewelry, a beautiful silver band with my birth stone on it. It was absolutely perfect.

"Oh my god, spencer. I love it!" I looked up at his beaming face. He chuckled.

"I'm glad you like it. Penelope helped me pick it out." I had talked to Penelope about my dream ring before, so of course she'd know exactly which one I'd want.

"It's perfect." I smiled at the ring on my finger. I felt like I was dreaming, like I'd wake up any second in an empty bed. But this was real. Spencer, my best friend and love of my life was now my fiance. I couldn't explain how i felt, it was far beyond happiness or any other emotion. I felt complete.

"I love you so much." I peppered kisses all over his face as I murmured 'I love you' over and over. His cheeks turned pink and his smile grew. I settled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body. We stayed like that for a long time. Just taking in the feeling of each other, feeling the connection of our souls.

~~~

Later that night, we sat together in bed and disgusted what our wedding would be like. We searched for venues online and talked about dates. Of course we weren't deciding anything right away, but we could barely contain our excitement for our day. In the middle of looking at decoration ideas, Spencer's phone rang. We both smiled at each other when we saw the name on the screen. He hit answer and put it on speaker.

"Did she say yes?!" Penelope asked from the other line.

"I did." I laughed and she squealed loudly.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" We heard her shuffling around and opening doors.

"Our genius is getting married!" She yelled out and we heard a bunch of people cheering.

"Wait Garcia, who's there?" Spencer asked.

"The whole team." Spencer and I shared a short laugh.

"Hi guys!" I yelled over the phone, hoping she had us on speaker. She did and everyone yelled hi back to me.

"Way to go, pretty boy!" We heard Derek say from the background. Spencer smiled.

"And congrats to you, Mrs. Pretty girl." He followed up with a cheer.

"I knew she'd say yes! Oh my god, this is so exciting! I'm so happy for you guys!" Penelope yelped. We got more congratulations from the team before hanging up and falling into conversation about their reactions.

We talked about our wedding for a while longer before we started to get sleepy. We cuddled up in bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. Sleep was fast to come as the memories of today replayed in my head. I felt full as I drifed off to sleep in the arms of my love. My fiance.

~~~

A/n: thank you to the person who requested this! I loved this idea so much.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #proposal #spencer reid criminal minds #one shot #spencer reid x you

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icarryitin · 5 months

Text

Workplace Hot

spencer reid/gn!reader

look i don’t know what this is or where it came from, all i know is one day i woke up normal and then by the end of it i had started CM from the beginning and fallen in love w this man

series masterlist

word count: 1.2k//warnings: literally zero, just vibes

summary: It’s just a crush on a coworker. That’s normal, right?

Things never go smoothly, do they?

Never quite to plan, there’s always something missing from the final draft, or something unexpected lurking in the background of the big picture.

This surprise comes gift wrapped just for you, in stupidly attractive, nerdy, beanpole patterned paper.

The first time you lamented about your unfortunate crush on Dr Spencer Reid had been over mojitos at your favourite little hole-in-the-wall bar. Sitting at the raised table with the remainder of your girl group from college, staring dismally at the bottom of your glass, they’d tried to convince you he was just Workplace Hot. Proximity Hot. Work crushes are commonplace as anything, they come just as quickly as they go. God, you wish they’d been right.

You’d tried to convince yourself of it, anyway, and that worked for a little while. You were happy enough to sit at your desk, the man in question mirroring your position somewhere on your right, five days a week. You could do your paperwork in his general vicinity and not feel like you were about to catch fire every time he leaned over the aisle to pinch a file from your stack. And then, there was The Incident.

The Incident - named for the absolute havoc wrought on your nerves until the early hours of a Sunday morning in May. Uncoordinated nights out though they had been, with your own friends out celebrating a birthday and his little group with their own agenda for the evening, it would have been rude not to wave across the bar at him. The rest of them had been too far gone already but one of your friends noticed your shy grin, arguably your best - friendship forged in the fire of back to back forensic psychology classes would be hard pressed to die. She noticed, because of course she did. So you’d told her, because of course she’d have worked it out. And then, to your horror, she’d walked right over to him. Because of course she would. She’d wandered back over to your group only a few minutes later, a solemn look on her face under the dulled bar lights.

“Do you get what I mean?”

“Oh, I get it, my condolences.”

You had been doomed from the start - cursed, bewitched. Lulled into a false sense of security via cardigans and wide eyes and odd socks until you find yourself here. Six months into your new job, and six months into an embarrassingly cumbersome crush on the good doctor.

Which probably would have been fine if either one of you stayed behind at Quantico regularly, but you don’t. Instead, you’re burdened by six months worth of knowledge of all his little quirks thanks to case after case after case.

You know he’ll commandeer the couch on the jet when he can, because he likes to stretch out when he naps. You know exactly how much sugar he takes in his coffee, too much - you feel mildly nauseous every time you make him a cup, but you still make it. You know that he chews on the inside of his lip when he’s thinking particularly hard about something, just as well as you know he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. And sure, it’s not just him, you’ve learned these silly little things about every member of the BAU team. But Reid’s just seem clearer to you. More significant. You’re a little more self conscious when you find yourself looking at him. Even in conversation, even if he’s looking to you for an observation about the Unsub. You can’t hold his eye for very long.

He knows, you’re sure of it.

There’s a rule - don’t profile the team. The golden rule. The golden rule that gets broken about fifty times a day.

Spencer likes the rule, even if he doesn’t always respect it. Sometimes it needs a little disrespecting, he thinks so anyway. Sometimes his colleagues, his teammates, his friends - they need somebody to prod them a little, letting people in goes against every fibre of a behavioural analyst’s being. But trust has to be built somehow.

He’s about this close to cracking you.

Which hasn’t been easy by any stretch of the word. You’d held him at arm’s length for much longer than the others, and at first he’d thought he annoyed you. It made sense enough, he’s been called annoying enough times in his life to know he definitely can be, and the way you’ve never really been able to look him in the eye would suggest you don’t want to get into the situation where he could be. He tries his best not to ramble at you, even now, just in case. Though that initial ice has long since melted.

You’re a lot more open with him now, even if there’s still parts he has to chip away at thick stone walls to get to. Silly things, that not everyone would care to know about their co-workers, but Spencer absolutely needs to know about you.

Which is where the stakeout game comes in.

It’s silly, really. Twenty questions - who plays twenty questions as a grown adult? FBI agents who desperately want to get to know other FBI agents whilst they’re stuck in the confines of an SUV’s backseat for hours on end. That’s who.

Derek and Emily sit up front, watching the quiet street, the way they’re supposed to be - as Spencer desperately tries to guess your favourite movie. He’s narrowed it down to two in his mind, in only three questions. The traditional rules of the game had gotten boring after the first few cases, you’d laughed and told him that he’s too good at guessing. He’d told you that you’re just not asking the right questions on your turns. You’re watching him carefully in the dark now, the way you’re meant to be watching the Unsub’s house. You don’t make eye contact but you’re studying his face all the same, he wishes you would. He’s become a little too dependent on the way his heart seizes when you allow him that kind of vulnerability.

He doesn’t have time to pick a film or ask another question anyway, because the Unsub is flying out the back door of the house, he’s jumping out of the SUV with everybody else, and the Unsub is surrounded. Thanks to your work, your observation being the final piece of the puzzle that had clicked everything else into place.

You’re chatting to a local officer when Spencer calls out the title of your favourite movie across the street. His guess, twenty questions completed in just three. How very Spencer Reid of him.

He’s right - obviously. He doesn’t need to watch the way your head drops and your shoulders shake with a giggle, interrupting your conversation to turn to him. But he watches all the same, he always does.

Your eyes sparkle in the dark when you look back over your shoulder, finally catching his under the orange haze of the streetlights, and sending a kaleidoscope of butterflies surging in the pit of his stomach. Paper thin wings clog up his throat, spindly legs tickle his lungs.

Work crushes are commonplace - but this one might just be the death of him.

#i am so desperately trying to be cool about this #being new in established fandoms gives me sm anxiety but pls accept this humble offering #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fic #lou writes #the canyouniverse

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theblue6ook · 5 months

Text

A Mundane Day

Summary: Is it ever really mundane office life as Bruce Wayne’s assistant? Bruce saves Y/N’s brothers from suspension.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Hello, hello. I hope everyone enjoys this fic. If I forgot to add you to the tag list please let me know! Enjoy :) [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]

It was 3 pm. Bruce stretched, rising from his desk chair, with a groan. If he was lucky, he could take a nap before his night shift. Glancing at his desk, he sighed at the files there. A mix of his cases with Bane and Wayne Enterprise documents. He felt like groaning as he sorted them out and threw his case files into his briefcase. Pulling the Wayne Enterprise documents into a stack, he slipped a paperclip at the top to secure it.

It had been a relatively boring day. There weren't many meetings or executives to debate with, just lots of paperwork. Everyone was getting ready for the next quarter, and the files were coming in hot. Not to mention, he and Y/N hadn’t been the most comfortable around each other. After her broken engagement and falling asleep in each other's arms, it was like walking on eggshells. No one knew where the other stood, and Y/N had just become single. Bruce didn’t want to be that guy. So, they were lightly stepping around each other, waiting for the other to crack.

It sounds so immature or superficial to think about with everything else going on in his life. Paperwork, cases, and patrol, and here he is worrying about how to interact with a girl. How old is he, fifteen? But still, he couldn't help himself but think back to her body. How it molded against his, pressed chest to chest, with knees knocking. The sweats she wore still smell like her. It made him want to dunk himself in cold water. Tell himself to forget it. After what happened to Rachel, he knew he shouldn't. She barely made it away from him with her life, and she was lucky all she got was feargassed. Y/N deserved better than that.

Stepping out of his office and into Y/N's. She sat quietly at her desk with her blue light glasses tucked into her hair, knawing on a red pen. She was in intense focus. He silently handed her his stack of files, and she quietly mumbled a thank you, still focused on the work in front of her. Bruce moved to the coat rack to slip on his jacket with mild difficulty. Last night, he tried following one of Bane's freighter trucks. It had not gone well for him.

Finally, he shrugged the coat on in one motion, trying to minimize the pain as much as he could, while hoping to appear as normal as possible. Y/N glanced up at him as he prepared to leave, but once he shrugged his coat on, his button-down shirt slipped forward, and a bruise appeared bright and uncovered.

The bruise was a bright, ugly purple that took up a large chunk of his collarbone and peck. Her eyes widened, "Oh my god, Bruce."

Bruce smiled lightly, playfully rolling his eyes. She used his first name. It never happened much unless she was either outstandingly pleased or uncomfortably serious. Bruce loved it and would take it either way, especially since it broke the silence.

Y/N rounded the desk in a flash and took him by the collar. She pulled his face down to her level, trying to get a good view of the bruise. Bruce again rolled his eyes, trying to act like it was no big deal. Slowly, he worked to pull away, but she manhandled him, pulling him back down harder, popping the top button on his shirt. He tried to act oblivious, "Y/N, what are you doing? You know, if anyone else did this, it would be harassment."

Y/N watched the bruise silently, with her brows furrowed. She looked over the top of his shoulder down to his peck. Without thinking ahead, she stuck out her hand and placed her cold palm on his warm chest. He tensed. At the temperature or her touch, she wasn't sure, but she smoothed her hand over the bruise. It was like ink had stained his skin. She looked up at him, frowning. He was closer than she thought, her nose almost hitting his chin. "What is this?"

“A bruise,” he stated plainly. Her eyebrow rose, and Bruce sighed, “I’ve been spelunking.”

“Spelunking?” she said quickly, “What is spelunking?”

“A rich man's sport.”

“Mr.Wayne-”

“It’s cave exploration,” he admitted, smirking down at her.

“If people belonged in caves, they would be there,” she was interrupted by a harsh ring. Pausing, she looked up at him once more, “This conversation is not over. You stay there.”

He thought about making his exit, but she would no doubt follow him whether she was on the phone, or not.

She cleared her throat, “Bruce Wayne’s office this is Y/N… Yes, this is she… What? You’re kidding… Yes, yes I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can… Okay, thank you.”

Covering her face with her hands, she groaned. She moved on quickly, though, shoving files in her bag. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Bruce raised his eyebrow at her, and she looked over her shoulder at him, “My brothers are in the principal's office. I have to go pick them up and talk to the office about it. If I leave now, I can catch the bus-”

"I can drive you-"

"That's really not necessary-"

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous. Come on." He walked out of their office with a swagger, as if she didn't just catch the bruise on his collarbone and she really had no choice but to follow him.

"Didn't Alfred drop you off?" she called after him, "I don't want to bother him."

"No," he laughed, "I can drive myself, you know."

They took the elevator down to the garage, and in his own personal spot was a four-seat, scissor-door Gordan Murray. Y/N had only heard about this car. It was over two million dollars, in a sparkling black that reflected blue in the sun. Oh, she wanted to drive that car.

He looked behind him and flipped her door open, "You getting in?"

She didn't know what to do but laugh. Come on he mumbled grabbing her bag and slipping it in the back before she got in the car. He closed it behind her like a gentleman. The interior was a mix of black and white leather. The seats were peak comfort and she wondered if this was what heaven was like.

The car rode like a beauty and they sat in blissful silence for some time. She saw Bruce glancing at her every now and then, curiously. She finally said, “What’s up?”

Truth be told, he was observing her. He needed to see if he had crossed a line when he pulled her into his arms. All he wanted to do was blurt out did I make you uncomfortable? Would you do it again? But everything in his head told him it would only lead to disaster, so he opted to ask a different question. “Two brothers then?”

“Two brothers in trouble,” she replied.

“Parents couldn’t help out?”

Y/N laughed dryly, “I’m their guardian and emergency contact when it comes to school. We keep Frank out of it.”

“Frank?”

She sighed and spoke cooly, “My dad.”

Her cool tone seemed annoyed by the topic, but Bruce could tell her body language was anxious. Nodding silently, he decided not to pry. Bruce wasn’t even sure where he stood with Y/N, he’d rather not test his luck asking questions about her family, so they rode once again in blissful silence.

Pulling into the school parking lot, Bruce pulled Y/N’s hand away from the door handle and moved out of the car to open the door for her. He had another pleasant memory of his mother, be a gentleman, Brucie, pop into his head. It had become second nature to him now. As Y/N stepped out of the car, she noticed Bruce stepped with her toward the school. Turning to him, she said, “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I drove you here,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged. “Honestly, I’m kind of in it now.”

Y/N huffed, turning to reluctantly walk inside, and Bruce followed after her. Y/N knew if she really pushed, he would have stayed by the car, but she didn’t even feel like arguing. She had enough on her mind. Fighting, she thought, I’m gonna kill them. Buzzing into the office, she turned quickly to him, pointing at one of the chairs sat in the office lobby, “You can sit there.”

“Whatever you want. I’m here for moral support,” Bruce replied as he plopped into one of the plastic, cushioned seats.

Liar, Y/N thought as she approached the receptionist's desk. The receptionist, an older woman with a shorter, choppy haircut, had given Y/N the basic rundown of what happened, but it felt like a few details were missing. Some boys were arguing over an article with Carl, and it caused a little tiff between them when Lucas got involved, and that’s when the… physical violence started, she had relayed to Y/N. What article? Why did Lucas get involved? Who was Carl fighting with? It wasn’t making sense.

“You can follow me,” she said. She moved behind the desk to lead her over to the principal's office, but not before glancing over at Bruce Wayne and looking back towards Y/N with a curious look. Y/N mumbled, confused, “After you.”

Bruce had sat nice and close to the entrance of the principal's office. He wanted to be in range if Y/N needed anything. Not that she would, but just in case. God, what is wrong with him?

“Why would you fight him?” she scolded, sharply.

He could hear her brother try to defend himself, “He needed help!”

So, that must be Lucas.

“He needs mental help,” she teased back. “Seriously, you’re already on your third strike. What’s going on?”

“They were talking shit about you,” Bruce could hear who he could only assume was Carl mumble. That’s my cue.

It seemed as if Bruce had manifested in the doorway, “What’d they said about your sister?”

“What are you doing in here?!” she bellowed at him. Bruce took in the situation. Y/N was squatted in front of her brothers, who sat in similarly uncomfortable cheap chairs as they had in the lobby. She had her hands placed on their forearms, in a comforting manner. The oldest one, Lucas, looked like he was maturing well. He could see similarities between him and Y/N, but for the most part, he had his own individual look. His eyes were bordering on sunken in, and his cheek sported black and blue from his fight earlier. The second boy Y/N was with had to be Carl. He looked younger and impressionable. He clung to Y/N’s arm as if she hung the moon and sported a black eye and busted lip. Not only that, he was the spitting image of Y/N, but that wasn’t even the most shocking part. There at the desk was no one. No principal. Not a single person.

“Where is your principal?” he responded, unbothered.

Carl stared up at Bruce Wayne flabbergasted, “Holy shit.”

“Don’t swear,” Y/N said with clenched teeth. “You need to go sit in the lobby-”

“Sorry, I’m late, Ms.Y/L/N,” the principal stepped in. “I had to settle a matter with the other student.” Their principal, a stout man with a slick combover, looked over at Bruce Wayne with what seemed to be slight shock and then a knowing look. He cleared his throat and gestured to the two empty chairs. “Please sit down. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Wayne.”

“I’m sorry he really doesn’t need to be here-”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, interrupting her. Bruce looked over at Y/N and gestured his hand for her to sit first. She was embarrassed enough as it was, she really didn’t want him to hear about her dysfunctional family here, at her brothers' school, of all places.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N broke the silence, “Where are the other student's parents? I’d like to speak to them about this whole situation.”

“Well, that would be me, Ms.Y/L/N.” You have got to be fucking kidding me. Y/N looked over at Bruce in disbelief. Should the principal be handling situations his own son is involved in? She certainly didn’t think so.

“Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate,” Bruce started, “to be handling your own child’s punishment? Regarding the situation, I mean.” Y/N gave him a sideways glance telling him it wasn’t his place to butt in, but he seemed to ignore it.

“Mr.Wayne,” the principal seemed to become defensive quickly, “I don’t suggest you put your nose into other people's business. These aren’t your kids.” Wasn’t he the one to tell Bruce to sit in? Y/N became visibly annoyed.

“As a donator,” Bruce smirked, and Y/N felt her ears perk up, “I just can’t support a school that handles issues in such a way. You understand?”

The principal’s face turned white, and every negative feeling Y/N had about Bruce Wayne, had dissipated. She could kiss him on the mouth.

Oh, he was good. He was so good at getting around people, getting exactly what he wanted to be. She felt a sigh of relief leave her chest, and Bruce placed a knowing hand on her knee. He was letting her know, I’ve got you.

After the sour meeting with Carl and Lucas's principal, Y/N had suggested she and the boys take the bus home, despite her brother's protests. Bruce simply wouldn't allow it; he had other plans for the four of them. So here they all sat at Lucy’s Pancakes, a breakfast diner near the office. Y/N couldn’t even be bothered to be annoyed with the change in plans after Bruce’s stunt earlier. Her brothers might have been suspended if he hadn’t stepped in.

So she pleasantly ate her Choc-O-Chunk pancakes sitting across from Bruce Wayne, who looked like peak domesticity. He gave his full attention to her brothers, answering their every question and whim. With his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, she couldn't help but grin. It was all too sweet.

Her brothers threw all kinds of questions at him.

How much was your car?

What do you even do?

How did you meet our sister?

How much money do you have?

How many girls have you dated?

“So you broke up Y/N and Russ huh? I’d call it an upgrade.”

Y/N swore her head had completely swiveled when Carl asked that question. Bruce looked up at her, unsure how he should respond. He had to remind himself it wasn't his place, but he found himself shaking his head anyway. Y/N raised her eyebrows, "Carl, what?! No-"

Bruce cleared his throat and slipped out of the booth, "I think I should go pay the check."

Y/N couldn't help but feel so embarrassed, watching Bruce head toward the cashier. "Okay, not funny, Carl. What are you talking about?"

“You didn’t see the article?” he asked.

"That asshole kid was saying you were Bruce Wayne's bitch," Lucas said angrily, "Carl headbutted him."

"The article in the Daily Planet,” Carl handed her his cracked iPhone. There on the screen was her and Bruce at her birthday dinner. Y/N was photographed with Bruce’s arm on her bare waist, fingertips dipping into her dress. He was whispering in her ear in the picture, and she blushed about as red as her dress, but other than that, she looked good. It was the headline that shocked her. Bruce Wayne Breaks Up Assistant’s Engagement By Lois Lane. She snatched the phone out of her brother's hand.

Bruce Wayne’s assistant, Y/F/N Y/L/N, was seen at The Ocelot wearing her engagement ring, but where was it the next day? Bruce Wayne might be the answer.

Sources say the bachelor's assistant was involved in a four-year engagement with her high school sweetheart, Danny Russell. After witnesses saw Wayne mingling with Y/L/N in the Ocelot, the assistant appeared ringless as she walked into Wayne Enterprises the next day. Sounds like a classic romance trope to me-

“This is bullshit,” Y/N read.

“I dunno,” Lucas spoke pointing to the picture. “You look pretty close there.”

She slapped his hand out of the way, “Bruce is not the reason I’m done with Russ-”

“Your sister was lucky to dump that cheater,” Bruce emerged again, placing a tip down on the table.

Carl turned toward Y/N for confirmation. Once he realized it was true, his eyes turned cold, “I’ll burn his house down.”

“He couldn’t afford a house and even if he could it’s none of your business,” she spoke pushing Carl’s head down, “now eat your pancakes.”

@pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt @maxinehufflepuffprincess @padsfirewhisky @moejoeflow @pank0w @qardasngan

#batfam #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batmom #bruce wayne #batboys x reader #slow burn

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gatitties · 1 year

Note

Hi🤗♡.

Can I request teen!fem Reader with the (strawhat pirates & kid pirates & heart pirates)( the older version of them please in there 40 or 60).

The Reader got hurt very badly and she was in coma for month.

But of course everything was fine when the Reader wakes up and everyone is happy♡.

P.s : take your time okay :) .

─Strawhats, Kid Pirates & Heart Pirates x teen!reader (platonic)

─Summary: A life-threatening attack hits you and everyone is worried about your condition

─Warnings: the characters are older, like in those 40/60 year old drawings (reference)

─ You are the little light of the group, being the youngest everyone was always watching you in battle, they had full faith in your abilities, but they would not stop being worried.

─ But you're not always in a completely accessible place, the others also have their own fights at the same time so the world seems to stop when the sound of your body hitting the ground catches Nami's attention. "Oh- No- no- my god, Chopper!"

─ Usopp, who was the one who had only been running and launching light attacks, was the first to approach your body, noticing a large pool of blood around you and a big blow on your head, he turned pale when he saw you.

─ He easily carried you in his arms and took you to a less dangerous place while Chopper rushed to finish off his own opponent, he was with you in just a couple of minutes, he could be older, but he won't stop losing his nerve when he has than treating a loved one, "A doctor! We need a doctor right away!" "You're the doctor?!" "Oh right!"

─ While the others finish as quickly as possible to know if you are okay, you are treated emergency, managing to stop the bleeding and stabilizing your vital signs.

─ The problem was that you spent one day sleeping, two, three… and it became the longest week for the entire crew.

─ Everyone was impatient and uneasy, they would not forgive themselves if something happened to you, they knew that you would wake up sooner or later, they would just wait for you.

─ Chopper checks on you daily, Sanji puts a glass of fresh water on the nightstand every day in case you wake up and no one is there at that moment, Luffy and Usopp will sit down to play any board game to keep you company, Zoro will take some occasional nap on the floor (chopper puts some pillows and blankets there because age doesn't forgive back pain), Nami and Robin will talk to you as if you were gossiping with them on a normal day, Brook will sing something at night so that in your sleep better, Jinbe and Franky stop by from time to time to see if you're awake.

─ Everyone's spirits fade when the second week passes with no indication that you will wake up and they think the worst, however they cling to the fact that your condition is stable, you are healthy and you are much younger than them.

─ A month later, Luffy had fallen asleep resting his hand on your shoulder, he didn't give you time to open your eyes and you already had your captain hugging you. "Hey, it's been a while, I don't even sleep that much after a good meal!"

─ You laughed confused because you obviously didn't know how long you had been out, and it didn't take long for the others to find out, you were surrounded in a big hug although Chopper scolded everyone because he still had to do one last check before letting you walk freely.

─ This team fights with everything it has and you were not going to be less, although much younger, you were much more energetic than that whole group of old men, as you affectionately nicknamed them since they sometimes called you kiddo or child.

─ The problem is that sometimes you were somewhat impulsive, and that's why you attacked too quickly. Kid smiled, seeing himself reflected in your recklessness, although he scolded you. "Don't get ahead, these guys aren't as weak as they seem."

─ You turned a deaf ear since you had advanced well in the attack, but in an instant everything had gone black for you, a fatal blow to the abdomen left you completely out of combat.

─ "Oh fuck, the kiddo is hurt, shit- like, really screwed up, needs medical attention right away!" Heat is the one closest to you and the one in charge of protecting you until the bloodbath ends, which they do more quickly.

─ Killer knows that you won't wake up today because when they sewed the wound you didn't wake up because of the pain, he knew that you were very complaining about pain of any kind despite being a teenager.

─ The tension grows as the days go by, uncertainty because you don't wake up to joke that you've knocked down more guys, they are mentally torturing themselves even though they don't let it be seen.

─ Wire will talk to you to tell you all the gossip you miss, Killer will stop by every morning before starting the day hoping to see that you are standing, Heat will sleep next to you some days and Kid will not visit as often because he is venting his discomfort in his workshop.

─ Kid has been in a worse mood the last few weeks because you were the person with the smallest hands and he needed your help with some screws that were too small, which delayed his project, he missed your annoying little presence making jokes about his old age .

─ Killer had full faith that you would wake up sooner or later because they had treated you on time, it just made him nervous not knowing when it would be, "I will make your favorite food if you wake up today…" he always said in the hope that the food would open your eyes.

─ A month later when everyone got used to the lack of a gremlin running from one place to another (they didn't get used to it, that's what they want to think), you woke up, there was no one there at that moment so you got rid of all the cables, feeling good.

─ "Hey child- holy shit! you're awake, hey- what are you doing up?! You need to get checked before you walk around again" "I'm fresh as a lettuce captain! I can't say the same for you… but uh-" "I'm glad to see you're okay." He put his only arm over your shoulder and squeezed you like in a wrestling hold, roughly rubbing your head.

─ They used you as an excuse to have a party, although you didn't care much because you also celebrated and ate your favorite food.

─ Law was going to kill Shachi and Penguin because you got hurt on a mission with them, you took several hits, which exhausted you, and what you thought would be a nap back on the submarine ended up being something worse.

─ They tried to keep you awake while they used what Law had taught them about minimal care, but you couldn't continue.

─ They didn't even set foot in the submarine and you were already in a bed in the infirmary, the smell of blood gave away your condition, "I want a report on what happened and the area of the body that was most beaten, we will talk about your punishment later", both swallowed, knowing that their captain did not like to see his comrades injured but above all, to see someone with so much life ahead of them injured.

─ You are treated immediately and quickly, Law knows that you will not wake up for at least a week due to the blows and your condition, but you would get out of this, that does not prevent him from feeling an emptiness in the pit of his stomach.

─ Bepo will be in your room most of the time, reading out loud so that according to him, you wouldn't get bored in your dreams, Shachi and Penguin got some free time (because they were forced to clean the entire submarine until it shined) to apologize to you.

─ Ikakku stopped by from time to time to check your vital signs and tell you some things that had been happening.

─ Even though they knew you would wake up, not knowing when the moment would be made the entire crew impatient, although Law detected some changes in your condition after a month, he knew when you would finally open your eyes, which reassured him.

─ "What the hell…?" You mumbled when you woke up seeing that your arms and legs were tied, "I'm glad to see you awake" "How are you glad if I'm tied to a bed? Oh don't tell me, have you finally lost your mind and going to dissect me?" He sighed "Security, I knew you were going to get up as soon as you woke up and I want to do one last check" "Sure…"

─ Everyone found out later because you started screaming as if you were being tortured just because had to supply something with a syringe, at least you prolonged your hug with Bepo because of that.

─ Shachi and Penguin apologized to you again, but you downplayed it, right now what mattered most to you was having a good meal, you were hungry and Ikkaku had the solution to all your problems.

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janeyseymour · 6 months

Text

Won't You Be... My Neighbor? -pt 2

Part 1.

Summary: Throughout the preparation for Melissa's court hearing, you find yourself falling for her.

WC: ~2.35k

“You’re a lawyer?” Melissa looks at you as if you just told her you were actually born on Mars.

You nod confidently. “A damn good one too.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here in West Philly?”

You chuckle. “I grew up around here. Liked the area, never really cared to leave.”

“Wow,” she whispers out in amazement. “Would you really be able to help me? I’ll pay you of course.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I can help you. And don’t worry about a payment. I’d be happy to help you out.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she states.

You wave a lazy hand in dismissal as you sip your wine. “No it ain’t. Just… cook me a couple meals, and we’ll call it even.”

That gets the redhead to laugh a little. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Tell me a little about him,” you prompt.

So she does. The two of you chat long into the night, and it’s only when Melissa yawns for the fourth time that you smile at her, finish off what little remains in your glass, and stand. “I suppose I should let you get to bed. But let’s… reconvene soon?”

She nods sleepily. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N. And seriously, thank you.”

“Have a good night, Melissa.” You leave the apartment and head down the hall to your own.

As you crawl into bed that night, you think about everything that she had said to you. Genuinely, you feel terrible for the woman a few doors down. She seems to have put her heart and soul into that marriage, only for all of her hard work and care to go down the drain. And from what you can tell, she isn’t exactly swimming in money right now- especially taking on a new apartment and having a young child to care for on her own. But she’s doing everything she can right now to make it work, including working overtime at her school to tutor children who need extra help. Her ex-husband is making absolutely no contributions aside from the extra hell that he is giving her. You find yourself even more motivated to help your neighbor win her case against her husband and gain full custody of her son.

It’s a few days later when you run into Melissa again, and she seems just as frazzled as she was the first day you met her. JJ is on her hip crying again, pleading to not have to go to the grocery store.

You are just coming in from a rather long day at work, and while the last thing you want to do is look after a small child (one who will need lots of tender love and care to calm down), you make your way over to the pair.

“Hey,” you say softly as you adjust your briefcase slung around you.

Melissa runs a hand through her hair. “Hi.” She turns her attention back to her son. “Sweetheart, we have to get groceries for the week… but Momma promises she’ll be quick.”

“I don’t wanna!” the little boy screeches.

“Missed nap time at daycare,” the redhead whispers over his head. Then she presses her lips together in a fine line as she continues to bounce him on her hip. She tries to calm him with a few short hums, but JJ just continues to cry out.

You blow out a breath. “I can take him for a little while you go grocery shopping,” you offer softly.

Those green eyes meet yours immediately. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” you say with a soft smile. “And it looks like you could use a break from kids for at least an hour.”

“Are you sure?” Melissa breathes out. “Because I can take him- he is my son.”

“I know he is,” you chuckle quietly. “But I also know that it’s okay to lean on someone to help you, and I told you I’m here for you.”

The teacher sighs softly. She looks down at her crying little boy. “Baby, Miss Y/N says you can stay with her while Momma goes grocery shopping, how does that sound?”

JJ whines out, but he looks to you with curious eyes and nods just once. His cries immediately start to soften as he realizes he doesn’t have to go to the dreaded grocery store and sit in that uncomfortable cart. He rubs at his eyes as he lets out a small yawn. “Momma?”

“Yeah, JJ?”

“I love you,” the little boy mumbles into Melissa’s shoulder.

“I love you too, honey,” the woman smiles softly as she presses a soft kiss to his head. “Can I put you down now so you can go with Miss Y/N?”

JJ nods, so Melissa sets him down on the ground. He immediately reaches for your free hand that isn’t holding your water bottle.

“Be a good little boy, okay?” the redhead instructs softly to her son. He nods, and you lead him down to your own apartment.

He’s as happy as a clam to sit with you while you go through a few more papers, and then you know it’s time that you should probably start making dinner. With a soft sigh, you lift him to your hip and start pulling out ingredients to make a meal.

“Dinner?” the little boy asks as he starts playing with the baby hairs that have fallen out of your ponytail.

“Yeah, hun,” you smile softly. “How does spaghetti sound?”

“I love pasetti,” your little neighbor mumbles.

You chuckle quietly as the way he says the word but nod. “Then that’s what we’ll have. Does your momma like spaghetti?”

He gives you a cheeky smile in response.

By the time that Melissa comes around to collect her son, you have him calmed down, fed, and giggling as you play Candy Land with him. However, she looks absolutely furious when you open the door.

“You okay?” you ask her quietly, although you very much know the answer already.

“Peachy,” is what she retorts. “C’mon, JJ. I have to get dinner started.”

“But Y/N already gived me dinner, and we saved some for you!” the little boy announces from his place on the floor, donned in one of your sweatshirts.

The redhead furrows her brows. “What?”

“I hope I’m not overstepping,” you say softly. “But he was hungry, I was making dinner, and I figured you might like to come home and not have to cook today.”

“That… wow,” Melissa sighs quietly. “Thank you.”

“It’s on the stove, and if it needs warmed, you’ve seen where my microwave is,” you smile at her as you return back to your game with her son. “Feel free to grab a glass of wine too if you want.”

As the redhead makes her way into the kitchen, she realizes that she can’t remember the last time someone made her a home cooked meal, even if it was something as simple as spaghetti. Joe had cooked for her maybe once as a way to get into her pants, and before then… it was her grandmother while her own parents were in the middle of their terrible divorce and custody battle.

The mother gets her dinner, and then she’s settling on the floor next to her son. She eats in silence, enjoying the fact that she does not have to entertain her son. She also watches as you handle him with such ease, making him smile and giggle the way that only she and Barb can get JJ to act. He’s such a sweet little boy, and the redhead would be lying to herself if she said that watching you with him didn’t make that small attraction to you just the slightest bit bigger.

You of course let the little boy win, and when he does, you tickle him relentlessly claiming that he was just too good and that he must’ve been cheating. His infectious laugh only makes you chuckle, and you know that you would do anything to keep this little boy happy- he already has a piece of your heart.

Then he tiredly crawls into his way into your lap and lays his head on your chest. “Sleepy,” is all he gets out as his eyes start to droop down.

The redhead stands, only half finished her meal. “I guess I should get him-”

You raise a hand as you stand and settle the two of you on the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. He can sleep on me while you finish your meal, and then you can tell me why you came in so pissed.”

Melissa chuckles, but she situates herself back on the floor. She watches the two of you for a bit as you lull her son to sleep with mindless humming and your fingers combing through his hair.

After a bit, you look down, and you know JJ is asleep. “So, you wanna tell me what had you so pissed?”

“Fucking Joe,” is all Melissa sighs out. “Told me that he’s looking for the best family lawyer in the city and that he’s gonna get custody of my son.”

“Well he’s screwed then, because that would be me,” you roll your eyes. “And I’m already taking your case on. Speaking of, there are a few papers I’ll need you to fill out in my briefcase, but I can get them to you tomorrow.”

“You’re the-” her eyes go comically wide.

“I am,” you say cooly. “85% success rate, and he doesn’t know that the odds are already stacked against him with most judges tending to rule with the mother having custody. And if he tries to pull any shit, I’ll make his life a living hell.”

And Joe does try to pull a bunch of shit- threatening Melissa, having his lawyers try to find loopholes around most things. And you just document it all. You and the redhead prepare for the case mostly after long days of work over a meal with that sweet little boy curled up in your lap and wearing one of your sweatshirts.

As the two of you prepare for the court case, you get to see more of the Schemmenti household. You get to see Melissa when she’s at her happiest, playing a simple round of Chutes and Ladders with JJ to take a break from all of the preparation. You also see her when she’s done up for school, and you swear she’s taken your breath away quite a few times. But you also see her at her lowest of lows, when she’s terrified that she’s going to lose JJ and that Joe’s threats are genuinely scaring her to the point of tears. You see her when she’s clad in her pajama bottoms and Eagles sweatshirt, ready to rip her hair out over the meltdown her son is having, and yet she’s still soft and warm with him. And it all… it makes you feel honored that you get to see her for everything that she is- apparently that isn’t a common thing for her to do, to let people in. And yet here you are, getting to know her and see every side of the redhead- even the parts that she doesn’t want you to see.

Her son is obsessed with you in the sweetest way, always coming and knocking on your door to ask if you can play a game with him or to simply give you a hug before he gallops his way back down to his own door with a proud look on his face.

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t happy to find yourself a part of their little bubble and that you were falling more and more in love with your client each and every day that you get to see her (which is of course everyday, whether that be to chat over dinner, prepare for the hearing, or just a simple ‘hello’ as you pass each other in the hall). But she… she’s your client, and she’s going through a messy, messy divorce, and you don’t even know if she likes women. You have your own theory that she’s bisexual, but nothing has been confirmed. You can’t, in good conscience, make a move on her. So you don’t. You sit with your feelings and try to not let them consume you.

The day that you spent hours preparing for comes, and Melissa slides into her place very nervously with her son in her arms. She looks absolutely stunning in her dress pants and blazer, and JJ looks precious in his little outfit that you have no doubt is his Easter best.

“I thought we spoke about not bringing him here,” you say in a hushed tone.

The redhead runs a hand through her hair. “I know, I know. My sister was supposed to watch him, but she bailed last minute, Barb can’t watch him because she’s working at the school, and you’re my other babysitter.”

“He better stay quiet,” you warn. “It’s not uncommon for judges to put children in contempt if they’re noisy.”

“He won’t be,” Melissa promises you. “He’s got his little fidget toy, and we already talked about how to act because we don’t want to get taken from Momma.”

The hearing is long and arduous for all parties, but when that gavel comes down and the judge rules that Melissa has sole custody of her son with Joe only being allowed supervised visits due to his excessive drinking, the threats he had made, and his other habits you know it was all worth it.

The mother immediately bursts into happy tears while Joe starts to fume. He starts screaming and cursing, and the court officers begin to rush him out.

He’s not out of the room before he can get out, “You’ll pay for this, you bitch!”

Melissa, too caught up in smothering her little boy in love, doesn’t even pay attention to his words. And later on, she wishes she would have.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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furuyalover · 5 months

Text

taking care of him at a party

— ft. atsumu miya

AN: just a lil sum while i work my music event drabbles 🤍 also this was soo fun to write so pls request any other characters i should do this for !

your roommate was throwing a party in your shared house, and it was fun at first. however your social battery was running kind of low, and you felt like taking a break anyways. “hey im a little beat, but if you need anything i’ll be in my room” you tell your friend and then you make your way to your room.

you lie down on your bed, and decide to maybe take a small nap to help you feel better. but not even 15 minutes into your nap you hear a soft knock on your door. “come in” you groan, as you readjust yourself so that you can sit up and see whoever’s at your door, expecting your roommate needing assistance with something for the party. but to your surprise, your greeting by three familiar faces, one being a very drunk atsumu miya.

being practically held him by his twin brother and good friend suna, the former embarrassingly says “y/n im so sorry for barging in, but is it ok if we let atsumu take a break here? every other room was occupied and your roommate told us to try here” atsumu was smashed, you could tell that he was shitfaced and it was more like osamu & suna who needed the break.

“what? ok sure yeah whatever. just lay him down over there i guess.” too tired to really even refute their request, you instruct the two to carry their drunken friend on the side of your bed opposite of you. this is where you decide it’s probably time for you to turn in for the night.

you leave atsumu to rest on your bed, and head into your bathroom to change, shower, and what not to get ready for bed. by the time you’re done you chuckle to yourself when you see atsumu is still knocked out on your bed. admittedly, you found it kind of cute to see him like this. peacefully asleep, in his natural state, a change of pace from his usual loud and brash personality, it didn’t help that he was in your bed as well. after placing a glass of water and some tylenol and advil on the nightstand next to him, you sit on your side of your bed and start mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

you text your roommate, updating them on the wild situation you found yourself in. “y/n are u fr rn? this is like the perfect chance for u to confess to him hello??” a smile forms on your face after reading that text, “bro what hell no. that’s so awkward 😭” “ur trippin, worst case scenario u can tell him u we’re js drunk” rolling your eyes at that suggestion, you exit your texts and go back to your scrolling.

a few minutes go by and you feel atsumu shifting in your bed, followed by a slight groan. “oh god where am i” he groans as he rolls over, rubbing his eyes, to face this mysterious figure sat beside him.

“well you’re not downstairs getting shitfaced that’s for sure” you snark with a small chuckle, slightly admiring how cute he looks with his messy hair and flushed face. “oh shit! y/n! is this your room? oh my god did we..?” amused by his slight panic you reassured him that nothing happened, “no no don’t worry, you were absolutely plastered so suna and your brother dropped you off here so you could rest. there’s some tylenol next to you, you should really take some”

she’s such an angel wow, he thought to himself as he took the pain relievers you so kindly prepared for him. “god those assholes, sorry you had to deal with that” he quietly, almost embarrassingly apologizes. giggling at his annoyance you assure him it’s fine and that it’s not a big deal. but then the gears start turning in your head a bit, as you start to develop a lil plan to semi-confess to him.

“the party isn’t probably gonna end for another few hours, so if you want you can just crash here if you want. i can just sleep on the couch or something” almost immediately, a grin plasters on atsumus face, and his usually cocky self is back just like that. “i mean that’s rather rude ya know? i wouldn’t want such an angel who had to take care of a drunken asshole to sleep on the couch. you should probably just sleep in your own bed” he grins as he runs his hands through his messy blonde hair, this bitch knows exactly what he’s doing, you think to yourself.

despite a very obvious blush creeping up on your face you respond, “yeah well i’d feel bad if you had to stay on the couch” scoffing, faking offense to your comment “who said anything about me on the couch? plus i heard cuddling is good for hangovers.” OH HOW I HATE HIM. rolling your eyes you playfully act annoyed, but you couldn’t be any happier

“hm well i always wanted to cuddle with that dumbass from the volleyball team who i have a crush on” you retort with a light laugh. now it’s his turn to blush, already flushed from the alcohol he is now redder than before. “when exactly were you planning on tellling this handsome and talented dumbass?” despite the confident demeanor he was definitely screaming on the inside.

“i figured now would be a good time, but who said anything about handsome and talented.” you reply as you side eye him, but he just can’t help but smile right at you. “so we’re definitely cuddling right?” he asks with a heartful, genuine smile. not being able to deny this lover boy’s smile or even him in general, i mean you’ve liked him for months now, you roll your eyes and respond “ok fine i guess whatever, but find some clothes to change into and take a shower” you laugh as you playfully hit him on his shoulder.

“on it.” he gets up heading downstairs to see if any of his friends have extra clothes they can get him, and to of course tell them about his crush on you. “shit finally, it’s about time you told her you liked her, osamu you owe me $10 and some food” “ok fine suna whatever, but you owe me $5 since he did it while he was drunk.” yes these mfs placed bets on you guys confessing to each other.

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

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wildemaven · 10 months

Text

caught kissing santa | dave york

-> pairing: dave york x f!reader

-> word count: 1586

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; established relationship/reader is married to Dave and stepmom to his kids, mentions of food and drinks, non-religious Christmas celebrations and Santa beliefs, alluding to sexy time but no smut, kissing, mentions reader is wearing pajama pants, fluff, soft Dave, one use of ‘good girl’.

-> note: this literally came to me this morning and i whipped it up during nap time. Not beta’d, so all mistakes and misspelling are my own fault!! -> masterlist / holi-dave masterlist

“So let me get this straight. You saw Santa last night. In the flesh. Just standing in our living room?”

You hear Dave ask Alice to retell her story again from where you’re standing at the kitchen counter, pouring steamed milk into your coffee. Except this time, he encourages her to tell it at a slower pace so you both could catch every word of it.

“Yeah!! I was thirsty and wanted to get some water. So I got up to go downstairs, but when I got to the stairs I could see him in the living room.” Alice says, sitting across from Dave at the kitchen table where there’s a huge breakfast of pancakes, waffles and all the sweet toppings laid out. Her excitement is infectious. Her innocence is still palpable and going strong, as she states she saw Santa with her own eyes.

“And what was he doing?” Dave encourages Alice to share more as he spoons several helpings of mini chocolate chips onto his stack of pancakes with a hearty serving of peanut butter melting over the top.

“Putting our presents under the tree.” Her words were muffled by a mouth full of sliced strawberries.

“Hmm. I guess that makes sense. Where were you Molly, when all this excitement was going down?” Dave looks over to the youngest of his two girls, who’s been enjoying her own helping of pancakes with a mixture of berries and chocolate chips piled on top.

“Sleeping.” You snicker into your cup at Molly’s blunt response. Her mild temperament was proof enough that the apple doesn’t fall far from the Dave York tree.

You turn and lean against the kitchen counter, so you can watch the rest of their conversation unfold.

It took some convincing to get Dave to go along with your idea of dressing up as the Jolly Man in Red this year. Knowing that Alice gets up every night to get herself a glass of water, it was the perfect set up for her to happen upon. Thankfully Dave folds easy to your convincing pleas and a good make out session on the couch late into the night seals the deal.

Alice had come to you a few weeks ago about the matter. Asking about the validity of whether or not Santa was real. She had heard her friends talking about how they were getting too old to believe in such a silly thing and how it was their parents all along. You could sense the turmoil of her wanting to still believe in the idea of Santa, but also wanting to feel a part of her friend group who seem to be eagerly growing into their not quite pre-teen selves.

As her stepmom, you didn’t feel like it was your place to have such a turning point conversation with her. Wanting to leave that for Dave and Carol to broach the topic with her if it were to come up again, supporting whatever their approach would be. You told Alice that Santa is real and he makes sure to bring a little holiday magic each year to everyone, no matter how old they are. Your answer seemed to satisfy her inquisitive mind and gave you an idea to give her a little extra Christmas gift in case this would be her last year believing in Saint Nick.

“What was Santa doing?” Dave sits back into the chair to take in the rest of what Alice had to say. His arms crossed over his broad chest. Your attention is briefly drawn to the way his gray nightshirt pulls tight over his shoulders and back, then quickly refocusing back to Dave and the girls.

“Putting all the presents under the tree. He had a big bag of them, too.” Her arms stretched out to give him an idea of how big the bag was.

You smile at the way Dave is giving her his full attention. Never letting on that he was the one wearing the suit late into the night as he placed each present under the tree in the living room, while you watched him from where you sat under a blanket on the couch. Snapping a few photos of him as he really got into character with each gift. Pausing every so often, his hands on his waist, complaining how miserable and hot it would be to actually be Santa in the thick red suit and beard for an entire evening. He even warned that your gifts would be lost if you continued to laugh at his misery.

Pushing off the counter, you join the three of them at the table. Settling into the open chair next to Dave, as you continue to sip from the warm coffee in your mug.

“So did you say anything to him? Ask him if he brought you anything special this year?” You ask Alice.

“No! I was worried I would scare him away and that he’d take our presents with him.” Her eyes widened as shakes her head no. It warms your heart hearing her response to this whole situation, the exact reaction you were hoping for.

“Oh! I didn’t even think of that. We wouldn’t want him to take everything away that he brought for us.” You say looking over to Dave who’s smiling into his own cup of coffee.

“He also seemed a little busy once he was done putting all the presents out. So I just went back to bed. Wanted to be surprised when I woke up this morning.” You’re confused by what she means when she said he was busy.

“Busy? How so?” You ask before taking another drink.

“Well—“ She pauses and looks at Dave, as if to search for the right words before continuing, then back to you. “I saw something else before I went back to bed.”

“What would that be?” Dave’s gaze shifts over to you momentarily when he inquires about what exactly Alice saw. Clearing his throat as he adjusts his position in the wooden chair and grabbing for his mug to keep his hands busy, his grip on it tightened and his knee bouncing at a steady pace. His fidgety movements are a telltale sign that he’s anxious— valid, given the way Alice has you all hanging by her every word at the moment.

“I saw you kissing Santa under the mistletoe that’s hanging over the fireplace.” Alice looks you straight in the face when she says it.

Dave nearly spits out the sip of coffee he had just taken. Coughing into his napkin as silence takes over the entire room. Molly halts her pancake devouring to stare at you with a shocked expression.

“Oh! Umm, well—“ You fumble over your words. Sheer panic runs through your body as you try to come up with something quickly as to why Alice would have seen you kissing “Santa”.

“Hey, girls look at what time it is. Your mom is going to be here in 20 minutes to pick you up. How about you go on upstairs to get your stuff together. Brush those sticky teeth and get dressed so you’re ready to go when she gets here.” The girls cheer in unison as they both hop off their chairs and run in the direction of the stairs that lead to their rooms. The bombshell revelation is long forgotten now.

“Oh my god!” You let out a big sigh and slump down in your chair, your head turning to see Dave silently laughing to himself. “She’s going to ask me again why I was kissing him— but I think you bought me enough time until they’re back from Carol’s.”

Dave reaches over and grabs your hand, pulling you from your chair and into his lap. Your arms drape around his shoulders, your temple resting against his forehead. His hand smooths over your pajama clad thighs, the other resting at your hip where he gives you a few gentle squeezes.

“Thank you for doing that for her. She might not believe in him next year, but she’ll have this Christmas as a fun memory to tell her kids when they’re asking whether or not Santa is real.”

“Thankfully all she saw was the kissing— or she would have been scarred for life.” Dave says between the soft kisses he’s giving to your neck.

“You’re the worst!” Playfully hitting his shoulder.

“That’s not what you were saying when Santa was showering you with all those gifts last night.” His eyebrows waggle as he looks at you, rolling your eyes back at him. Your face heats up at remembering just how many gifts you were given.

“How about when the girls leave, you slip back into that red suit— forget the beard. And you can give me some more of those wonderful gifts.” You whisper, as if your suggestion might be heard by two sets of small ears. “I might be in the giving mood and have a few for you as well.”

“I don’t know. Have you been a good girl this year?” Dave asks in a low sensuous tone.

“The best!” You manage to say before his hand is pulling your face to his, kissing you with earnestness.

The sound of feet bounding down the stairs cuts the kiss short. Alice and Molly making their way back into the living room to pick up where they left off with their new toys.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” Dave places the softest kiss to your lips.

“Merry Christmas, Dave.”

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #wildemaven writes

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hoiststowline · 3 months

Text

mercy's shore

ratchet x female!reader

originally posted on my ao3 here!

"What is the point of having your number if you never pick up the fragging phone?" Startled, your hold on the device wavers as you yank it away from your ear, his volume loud and displeased. "I've been trying to contact you all damn morning, where have you been?"

His grouchiness overlays his concern, but it's not as heavy as it normally is, bearable to a wide extent. "Sorry. I got caught up with something, but I have a free minute. What's up?"

Ratchet sputters, and his engine revs theatrically in the background alerting you that he's driving, likely on the way to your house. "Oh, you can spare me a minute?" That may not have been the best sentence to say, even in your delirious state. "And you got 'caught up with something?' y/n, that is probably the poorest excuse I've ever heard, and trust me, I've heard it all."

Your nose wrinkles, carefully surveying your options in the next reply you dare provide. It would appear no matter what you said unless it was the plain truth, it would not satisfy the doctor. "I...can I try again?" It comes out eventually, meek and stifled with exhaustion alongside a bout of attempted humor.

"Can you what?!" Wrong choice slapping you profoundly in the face, the phone moves apart from your ear as he shouts. "Did you hit your head? What the scrap is the matter with you?"

Sighing, you stand off the couch, hesitantly bringing the phone back to your ear, achy joints expecting his anger to flare once more. "It's been a long day," You start, pausing in case he decides to interject. "I was sleeping when you called, I really am sorry."

"It is only two in the afternoon," It's quieter, but still overmuch alarmed. "And sleeping? This isn't like you. I know your schedule very well, you don't take your 'naps' at this time of day." The fact that Ratchet claims to know your schedule is amusing, but you don't have the energy to tease him for the sentiment.

"I was-" You move around the furniture, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. "I was tired, Ratch. I didn't get much sleep last night." Part of you questioned if divulging the medic was the best idea, for he would only insist upon checking you over and monitoring your symptoms if he found any.

"And why is that? Assignments, or work-related activities?" Unable to remember the last time you felt such fatigue, the only thing you wanted at this very moment was to go back to sleep, alone, in a dark room. "It better not have been to watch garbage on television."

"That doesn't matter." You start, knowing what comes next.

"It does." Going to argue back, you spin to the window in the kitchen as the tell-tale sound of a truck coming down the road reaches your ears. "Open the garage, now. I'm outside."

Groaning, the line clicks dead, leaving no option available to defend the idea that you were fine. You could hide, and claim you weren't home, but you know he's seen your car in the driveway already, and he wouldn't leave until he saw you. With dread, you watch the red and white ambulance pull onto the pavement, radiating the vibe that you were really in for it this afternoon.

"Hi Ratchet," Your palm hits the button that opens the garage door, exasperation filling your tone as he pulls inside. "So kind of you to say you were dropping by."

"Hush up, I've just about had it with your nonsense." He doesn't mean it, because he wouldn't be here if he did. "If you run and lock yourself inside like last time, I will throw something at you."

The idea had crossed your mind, but you knew it was all in vain, even if you did try such an escape. "Yeah, okay. I'll just remember to wash you with paint stripper next time around."

"That is not funny." His passenger-side door pops open, impatience showing clear as day. "Get in y/n. And it's not a request."

Your hand squeezes into a fist, but relents, knowing you were at the end of a losing battle. "Fine. Can I go get my bag, at least?"

As if he was anticipating you to quarrel with him, Ratchet begins his sentence without thinking. "I just said-!" When he processes your words, his voice box spatters, followed by an ex-vent. "Very well. But don't try anything, I'll be waiting."

You disappear back through the interior garage door, back into your kitchen, and out of Ratchet's line of sight. In his initial investigation, your outward appearance seemed normal, with no obvious signs of trauma or injury. Still, you did have an aura of distress and melancholy, even if you were bickering with him habitually. Ratchet reviews his options, mindful of what he understood was the best solution to your long day, and after a few kliks pass, you return to the garage, bag on your shoulder as you close the door over behind you.

"Told you I'd be right back," Shuffling around the ambulance, you step up into his cabin, sliding into the seat as the door swings shut.

"I have validation for my wariness." His center console blinks as he speaks. "If you must sleep, go ahead. I'll be quiet."

"I'm good," Head tilting back, you're met with the soft beige of the headrest, and seatbelt clicking over your waist. "I'm sure you'll give me a run for my money when we get back to the base, so I'll sleep after."

"You're lucky that I don't understand that idiom, or I'd probably leave you on the side of the road." Another jab he has no intention of following through with. "Are you going to discuss then why you are so exhausted? And don't give me the scrap about how you didn't sleep well. I know that. I want to know what was keeping you up."

The urge to scream at him 'You aren't my doctor' is nearly irresistible. You physically have to bite your lip, staring out the window with declination in your body language, but you have to take a step back to confront the larger picture. Ratchet hardly ever left the base, and it appears this journey was made entirely on your behalf, but the reason you felt so coddled and overwhelmed was because he was demonstrating compassion the only way he knew how. Ratchet was a worrier at heart, and him coming out here because he couldn't get ahold of you made guilt settle in the bottom of your stomach.

"I know you're not ignoring me, y/n." His voice is flat as the seat nudges your back. "You're on such thin ice, I-"

"I'm sorry." It comes out a bit more warble than you intend, watching as his rearview mirror tilts downwards to look at you. "I was up all night overthinking. My brain was going a hundred miles a minute, I-" Your voice hitches, swallowing down a sob that rises in your throat. "You were only trying to help. I'm sorry."

Ratchet doesn't reply immediately, but the mirror doesn't move from its position. Eventually, he ex-vents, and you can picture him hanging his helm in a defeated manner, unsure of what he could possibly say to make you feel better.

"I should have just told you." You say quietly, looking back out the window. "It really has been a long day, but I'm okay now, Ratch. I swear, I would never lie to you."

"I know that." It's insistent, but he cannot get the image of you near tears out of his processor. "I would still like to review your vitals back on base, just to make sure you truly are fine."

A soft smile crawls onto your rosy cheeks, nodding twice. "Sure, if it'll give you better piece of mind."

"You're going to be the death of me yet, y/n." Your window rolls down halfway, enjoying the breeze that hits your face. "Would you rest better at the base, or shall I take you back home after the evaluation?"

"Are you going to take a nap with me?" You blink, silently begging him to say yes.

"That wasn't an option." He comes to a stop at a red light. "You have two. Pick one."

"You asked where I would sleep better?" Ratchet knows he shouldn't entertain this, but he dares to answer.

"Yes. Pick one, or I'll pick for you." He makes the left turn as the light switches green.

"In your arms," A pout overcomes your face as he barks a laugh, obviously unamused.

"Forget I asked. I'm taking you back home straight after." The pout melds into a scowl, but you relent, leaning back into his seat as the two of you roll down desert roads. You knew you could do better damage at the base, eyelids drooping as a yawn builds in your mouth. Maybe you would be able to better convince him in person, but for now, you take it with stride as the cool afternoon air swipes across your face.

#sul tf writes #tf ratchet #ratchet #ratchet x reader #transformers prime #maccadam #ratchet transformers #ratchet imagine #tfp #transformers #transformers idw #mtmte

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miasmal-sweetness · 5 months

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Here, Kitty, Kitty

NSFW - MDNI - 18+ ONLY

Graduation is near and I am ignoring health issues by writing hot trash. I put on fake nails for the first time in a literal decade so I have had to relearn how to type during this and I am going to blame that for why this is honestly Not Good and pretty sloppy.

This is absolutely my attempt to reclaim the pet name “kitty” for myself after my weird abusive ex ruined it for me years ago since that’s what he called me.

Here, Kitty, Kitty

Summary: yandere!Cloud x reader. 3.1k. Cloud finally has the perfect nickname for you, but you’ve gone missing. Don’t worry; your hero will save you, just like always.

Warnings: he calls you kitty, duh; reader is gender-neutral but has a vagina; smut; Cloud 100% kidnapped reader; bondage; noncon; suffocation/drowning

“I’m home, kitty.” That’s it. Short and sweet and it rolls off the tongue. That’s what you are—short, sweet, and you also feel great on his tongue. Cloud is certain you’ll love the pet name; his heart has skipped many beats every time he’s thought about it.

Cloud sets his sword down by the door, waiting to hear the usual signs of your presence. You two have been living together for a while now, and you’ve settled into a routine. By now, dinner will be ready, and you’ll be waiting for his return in the kitchen as you flip through a cookbook for the umpteenth time. But this time, he doesn’t hear your breath, your footsteps, the soft turn of pages, or you stirring a pot. It’s silent.

Cloud steps further in to his house. Were you asleep? You had tossed and turned a lot the night before; he wouldn’t blame you for needing a nap. He peers in to the kitchen and finds no sign of you, not a single dish out of place, like you hadn’t even eaten breakfast. The living room is similarly empty, even though the couch is where you usually take your naps. Maybe the rain outside disturbed you; there was a large window that overlooked the couch, so it could be a little loud and chilly there.

You’re not in the hall. You’re not in the extra room he’s let you slowly turn into your own space. His heart is starting to pick up the pace; if you aren’t in the bedroom, then—no. He can’t think that way. Cloud cracks the door open, just in case you really are sleeping, but throws it open when he finds that the bed is empty. Cloud takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. There is one other place you could be, but not only did he keep it locked, you also hated it. The basement—a place you’d only go in to if he dragged you kicking and screaming.

It was storming, though. Maybe you found a way to get in and took shelter out of fear. Cloud left the bedroom after another glance, heading straight for the basement door at the end of the hall. Sure enough, the door was unlocked. He keeps the key on him at all times; there’s no way you swiped it off of him, since it’s still in his pocket. Maybe you found a way to pick it.

Either way, Cloud pushes the door open and makes his way down the stairs. “I’m coming down, kitty,” he calls, flipping on the lights. “Don’t be scared, okay?”

He knows before he even sees the basement that you’re not there. He can feel it, but he holds on to that bit of hope anyway. Hope matters little in this world, though. You aren’t there. The basement is empty. His gaze lands on the red silk that lies by the wall. Strong, tightly-woven silk that he brought home after you kept getting horrible rope burns and bruises when he tried cuffs. You were too weak to get out of it, but it didn’t hurt you, either. He wishes he had used it that morning.

One of the windows has been broken open, and your struggle is remembered by the shards of glass covered in your blood. The bars that covered every window were damaged on only this one, pried apart with a hammer from the toolkit he forgot to take back from you. You said you needed it to work on your sewing machine; it needed maintenance, but he didn’t have the time to supervise you or do it himself. What a dumb decision. He should have just stayed an extra thirty minutes.

Now you’re gone, probably lost somewhere out in the rain and possibly trying to fend off monsters. You aren’t a fighter. You were easy for him to drag here; so easy he wouldn’t have had trouble even without years of training and mako forced in to him. You’re probably scared, cold, and lost, wondering why he hasn’t saved you yet.

Of course, deep down, he knows that’s not true. You ran away. Pried off the prison bars keeping you caged, escaped the room he kept you in for a month and a half before he thought he wore down your will—the room he still brings you down to sometimes when you misbehave or something triggers his paranoia. Cloud knows all of this, but he’s good at ignoring it. You need him, whether you like it or not.

Grabbing the silk rope from the floor, Cloud trudges back up the stairs and grabs his sword. You can’t have gotten far. The house is way out in the countryside, where paths are limited; your bare feet are not going to move quickly or easily on the rocky terrain. He follows a fading trail of blood leading away from the broken window. He’s so focused on your trail that the feeling of cold rain pouring on him is barely noticeable; he only thinks about it when he realizes that you must be freezing.

He moves a little faster.

Eventually, the trail of blood stops, either because the wound clotted or the rain has washed it away. He hopes it doesn’t hurt to badly. He does. He does believe that—he’s tries to drown out the thoughts that insist that you deserve it for being such a brat, that this will teach you a lesson, that this is nothing compared to what he’ll do when he drags you back home. The thought of making you crawl over the broken glass you left behind in the basement is interrupted when he notices footprints left behind in the mud. They’re barely visible, but they’re there.

The footprints guide him to a few shrubs. Some strands of your hair are caught in the leaves and branches; he wonders if you were trying to crawl under them for shelter from the rain. Evidently, you gave up and tried taking refuge under a tree, but that must not have been good enough. Your trail leads right to a dying tree leaning against a small, rocky hill; a small source of relief from the rain. There are no prints leading out. You’ve barricaded yourself in with branches and leaves, mostly in an effort to stay hidden. He smiles at the childish attempt—he might be pissed that you left, but it’s adorable that you think that would be good enough.

“It’s just me,” he calls. “You can come out.”

No response. He doesn’t even hear you shift.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he teases, circling your poor attempt at a hiding spot. “Come to me, kitty.”

You want to tell him to fuck himself. You want to stick your head out just to spit at him. Even though you know it’s over, though, you refuse to reveal yourself. He’ll have to drag you out by your ankles, something that you know he has no problem doing. If you can’t escape, you can at least make this difficult for him. You sink further in to your spot, batting your lashes to blink away tears and rain drops.

You’re dirty, bloody, sweaty, and drenched in rain. You have scratches going up and down your waist, legs, and arms. The soles of your feet are red and covered in scrapes. You just want to be able to cry in peace, but you’ll hold your breath until you pass out if it means he won’t get the satisfaction of hearing you.

“Come out, kitty. It’s okay; you’re not in trouble.”

Liar. You know the second you’re back at that house, he’ll be grabbing at you and crushing you and making you say you won’t leave over and over until you lose your voice and he’s satisfied. You knew the risk of leaving, and you decided at the time that it was worth it—but that was before the storm came and slowed you down. Your lips and fingers are already blue. You couldn’t keep going. You can’t keep doing this. All you have the strength to do right now is sit in silence like a pouting preschooler who doesn’t want to leave the park yet.

Cloud crouches down by your shelter. You wiggle away from him, casting your eyes to the ground. He reaches past the thorny branches you’ve barricaded yourself with, not even acknowledging the thorns that scratch his arms and leave blood in fresh red lines.

“Come on out, kitty,” he urges, holding out his hand to you. His voice is soft now, gentle; it reminds you of when you first met Cloud. He had been rough around the edges and awkward, sure, but you thought you saw a good heart behind it all. Sometimes you still did, when you saw his eyes go soft as he stroked your hair or kissed bruises that formed when you bumped in to the counter—when he’d bring you treats from outside, reminders of the life he took from you, with a look in his eyes that implied a quiet regret that he couldn’t voice. Somewhere in him, that sweet boy with those big blue puppy dog eyes is reaching out for you, asking you to stay with him after he’s already lost so much.

You give in. You’ve never been able to resist him—not when his eyes go soft and he looks like you just broke his heart. You take his hand and crawl out from your spot, seeking new refuge in his warmth. Even in the icy rain, he still runs hot. He wraps his arms around you as you miserably shiver and sniffle. This was a terrible idea. You never should have left. It was pointless, and only ended with the both of you upset.

Cloud’s hand moves down to your waist, and you hiss when his fingers brush over your scratches. He murmurs an apology as he examines your wounds. They’re shallow, just plentiful.

“You didn’t run in to any monsters, right? No other injuries?” he asks, running his thumb over dried blood that crusted on your hip.

“No,” you mumble, staring blankly at your bruised knees.

“Good.” He continues to contemplate your scratches, rubbing small circles in to your thigh. “Why did you leave, kitty?”

The new nickname finally hits you. Even in the cold, you feel a little warmer from it. You supposed it’s fitting—back in the sector, you made nightly rounds in the neighborhood to give snacks to the strays. Your heart sinks a little, and the bitterness of your situation claws its way back up your throat. Sure, he’s being sweet now, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s keeping you captive. “I wanted to go home,” you spit, lifting your head to stare venom in to those stupid big eyes of his.

“This—”

“No!” You pound your fists against his chest, even though you know it barely does anything to him. “That is not my home! You are not my boyfriend! I want to go home to my friends, to the sector, to the cats and my neighbors!” Each cry is punctuated by another thump of your fists against his chest, and he takes it all without even a wince.

“Kitty, don’t—”

You won’t let him get a word in edgewise. “Take me home!” you demand, unleashing your fury in the form of a flurry of weak blows to his chest.

Finally, he responds to your pathetic attempt at a tantrum. He grabs your wrists and holds them together with an infuriating amount of ease. His eyes aren’t soft and sparkly anymore. He doesn’t have that pout that you fall for so easily. His gaze is hardened, sharp, and focused entirely on you as he throws you on to your back. You grunt when your back collides with mud and your hair is soaked by a puddle.

“Listen, kitty,” he snaps, giving a harsh yank to your flimsy shorts. You try to scramble away, but he pins you in place with just his weight. “This is home now. You can either make it easy on yourself and accept it or you can keep throwing your tantrums, but it won’t change a thing. There is nothing for you back there.”

Your top is ripped off, torn in two and discarded in the mud. He doesn’t seem to care one bit about the dirt and mud you’re in, nor about the puddle that you keep trying to lift your head out of. “Th-that’s not true,” you sputter, forcing your legs shut with all the strength you can muster. “My friends—our friends—”

“Do you really think anyone even noticed that you’re gone?”

You fall silent at this, mouth agape. You had considered the possibility that no one noticed or cared, or that they quickly forgot about you and brushed you off when you never came back. But you always held out hope that they remembered and looked for you.

“You were just another body to them,” Cloud mutters against your neck. He’s running his hands up and down your body, between your trembling legs, as though nothing is wrong and he isn’t saying horrible things in your ear. “I took you away from that. Give you a home and everything you need. Keep you warm and safe… and you fucking run away?”

Your legs are forced apart, and you feel like a hot poker is being shoved in to you. You weren’t prepared in the slightest, but that doesn’t stop him from pounding in to you.

“Cloud, stop!” you cry, trying to wriggle away from him as he sucks on his favorite spot on your neck.

“Quit moving around so much,” he grumbles, finally stopping the brutal pace of his hips. The relief you get is brief and nowhere near enough; Cloud stops just long enough to turn you on your stomach, before resuming the same pace. With your face now shoved in to the muddy puddle below, he can enjoy himself without you saying things like “no” and “this hurts.” You can only guess that this isn’t one of the days he enjoys it.

Even though you’re half-drowning and you can vaguely hear him hissing obscenities and complaints, he still shoves his hand between your legs and plays with your clit. And it still feels good, no matter how much pain you’re in. When this nightmare first started, Cloud had been awkward and inexperienced. With plenty of practice, however, he found each spot you enjoyed, and which way was the best to pleasure you. The kind of knowledge and familiarity you’d only expect to grant a partner. He knew every inch of your body; it was mapped out in his mind better than anywhere in Midgar.

And you hate it, even as the warmth builds up in your gut. He grabs you by your hair and lifts your head to let you take in another desperate gasp of air, before shoving your head back in to the mud. This isn’t like him. Even on the days you’ve been a brat and he’s come home angry from whatever the hell he faced out there, he’s at least been apologetic while brutalizing you. Frantically telling you “sorry, I’m sorry” as he fucks your throat without concern for your gag reflex or chokes you from behind as he tries to bury himself as deep as possible inside of you.

There are no apologies. The closest relief you have is the brief gasps he allows you to take, and it’s still nowhere near enough. Your eyes burn and are covered in a haze. You can feel the pressure inside of you building; the lack of oxygen only seems to make it more intense. He lifts your head just to hear you moan and sigh. He knows every sign of your orgasm—the shake of your leg, the way your core tightens, the feeling of you contracting around him.

“That’s it,” he breathes as you writhe in pleasurable misery. “Say my name, kitty.”

You obey without question. Whatever will get this over with—and his fingers away from your clit. “Cloud,” you whisper.

“Say ‘thank you, Cloud.’”

If it weren’t for the lack of oxygen and orgasm turning your brain to mush, you would have put up a fight. But there’s no point to it now. “Th—thank you, Cloud,” you manage to croak, struggling to speak past the hand around your throat and his increasingly frantic pace. You hear him groan against your ear.

“More,” he demands. His voice is breathy and agitated; he can’t tell you exactly what he wants to hear, but you can hazard a guess.

“Thank you for—f-for saving me,” you eke out, squeezing your eyes shut. The high of the orgasm is fading, replaced by pain from overstimulation and the tears he created inside of you. Still, you’ll savor the oxygen he’s letting you have. “Thank you for… f-finding me—I was lost and needed you.”

Of course that’s what he wants to hear. Another groan, and he rolls his hips against yours as you feel his cum spill out of you. Cloud rocks his hips against you as he rides out the last of the high; he wants to savor every last moment inside of you. You don’t dare complain. He’s letting you breathe, and the pain isn’t as bad as before, at least.

You fall back in to the mud when he releases you, your arms barely able to move in the clumsy motions you manage in a late attempt to catch yourself. You struggle to push yourself up and roll away from the puddle, panting as water drips from your face. You hurt. You want to cry. And you feel Cloud lifting you up by your arms.

“Let’s go home, kitty,” he says in that gentle, low voice. All malice is gone. The sadism that had been in his eyes just moments ago is gone, the only evidence of it being the mud on your skin and cum dripping down your thighs. “You can have a bath to warm up when we’re back. You should feel better then.”

You don’t fight when he sweeps you off your feet. You don’t fight when he rinses you off and sets you in a tub of warm water. And you just watch as he fixes the broken window, reinforces the bars, and boards them up to keep you from getting any more ideas. You’re tied up in a pile of blankets on the floor, his attempt at softening the reality of your confinement. You’ll be down in that basement for at least a week, until he decides it’s safe to let you out again. You should have known he’d keep his promise—he’d always come to your rescue.

#miasmal-writes #dead dove do not eat #dead dove #yandere!cloud x reader #yandere!cloud strife x reader #yandere!cloud #dark!cloud strife x reader #dark!cloud x reader #dark!cloud strife

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e1i-neverrests · 1 month

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Vesuvia Weekly: You Know Me Too Well

Little headcanon/drabble for Vesuvia Weekly prompt “What Nobody Else Knows” featuring my MC and his dears! (Featuring a little doodle at the end)

Asra discovered a wonderful little secret early-on in their relationship pre-plague

How to make Lys fall asleep

It doesn’t matter what he’s doing or where he is, all Asra has to do is gently drag their finger down Lys’ nose bridge, and he’s out.

They take full advantage of this, of course

Lys is stressing out after a particularly rude customer? It’s nap time

Post-revival Lys going through those pesky memory headaches? Can’t remember things if you’re sleeping!

Lys wakes up in the middle of the night because Asra’s midnight snack experiment went wrong?

Nuh uh no he didn’t

Lys doesn’t mind it (he could really use the rest) unless Asra is actively trying to get away with mischief

The first time this happened in front of Muriel though…

“He’s been going on for half an hour…” “You’re right, we should do something about it.” “Yeah but what?” “Trust me, I got this”

Asra walks over to where Lys is pacing back and forth, catching his hands in their own. Lys startles, taken out of his angry ranting to look up at Asra, confused. “You worry too much, silly. It’s nap time.” Asra’s hands trail up his arms, one now gently cupping his cheek. The other pushes Lys’ glasses up to sit at the top of his head before carefully dragging their thumb down his forehead and nose a few times.

“Wh- what was that? What did you do???” Muriel looks on in confusion and a bit of concern as Lys goes quiet, dead asleep while standing. Asra just turns to him with a smile. “My secret weapon! Works every time, and he always wakes up calm." "…Let’s make some tea just in case.”

POV: You're Muriel

#vesuvia weekly #nobody else knows #asra alnazar #muriel of the kokhuri #original character #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #my art #I can't believe this is the debut for my apprentice Xp #Also the first time I ever draw Asra #nonsense

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cookies-over-yonder · 4 months

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two sides of the same coin

Adaine tries to relax her jaw. It doesn't work, and her ears are ringing, and fuck, her chest hurts so bad. "Adaine?" Riz. She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a sob.

for @kaseyskat

ao3

Adaine squeezes Boggy in her arms, feeling the tears slide down her face. She's curled up in a ball on her bed, and she can't breathe.

She's having a panic attack, and she knows it, but Jawbone isn't home. It's fine. She can handle it. That's what she told herself when she left movie night in the living room.

She tries to relax her jaw. It doesn't work, and her ears are ringing, and fuck, her chest hurts so bad.

"Adaine?"

Riz. She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a sob.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, can I touch you?" he asks, and his voice is quiet. Adaine doesn't think she's ever heard Riz sound so gentle.

She nods, and she feels a hand brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, and another hand holding hers.

"Can you look at me?"

She hadn't even realized her eyes were closed.

She opens them, and sees Riz starting back at her with wide and concerned eyes. "Hey, it's okay, I'm right here, you're safe, we're gonna do some deep breaths, okay? Can you follow along with me?"

She nods.

Riz takes in a deep, audible breath, and she follows along. And she lets it out, feeling more tears slide down her face. "So—sorr—"

"Stop that. Remember what Jawbone said? It's not your fault that your brain is giving you shit, so don't apologize."

Adaine whines despite herself, a childish whine that would get her trouble for were she still living with her parents.

But she doesn't get in trouble this time.

This time... she gets a hug.

"Just breathe, it's okay," Riz says softly, rubbing circles into her back, "I'm here for as long as you need."

Adaine breathes, and she buries her face in the crook of Riz's neck despite the height difference making it a bit of an awkward position.

She whines again, and it's an embarassing thing, but she can't help it. And Riz runs his hands through her hair, and she feels so small.

"You're safe, everything is okay, I promise," Riz says, "just keep breathing, you're doing so well."

Adaine keeps breathing, and she feels the post-panic attack fatigue hit harder than it has in a long time.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Riz asks after a moment, pulling away to look at her.

Adaine whines again, curling in on herself a little.

"It's okay if you can't talk, do you wanna go back to watching a movie with the others?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay, we can stay here," Riz says, brushing her hair out of her face again and planting a kiss on her forehead. She looks up in surprise, and he averts his gaze. "Um... my mom does that when I'm upset, I thought it might help."

Adaine nods, and she sees him let out a small sigh of relief.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asks, and she nods, and then she buries her head in the crook of his neck again. He wraps his arms around and holds her tighter. "We can just take a nap here if you want."

You sleep too, Adaine Messages him, and she hears him chuckle.

"I'm fine, you need rest," he says, and helps her shift into a lying down position, with Boggy between them. "Do you want me to stay here with you while you trance?"

She nods, squeezing Boggy and shifting so she's cuddled up against Riz.

He drapes an arm over her, pulling her closer.

"I love you, okay?" Riz says, wiping a falling tear off her cheek, and burying his face in her hair. "You don't have to be strong for everyone all the time. I'd rather help you than know you're struggling alone."

I could say the same for you, Adaine Messages him.

She feels Riz tense up a little. "That—that's not relevant right now."

Isn't it?

"You need your rest right now. That's a topic for another time."

Always avoidant.

"If I try to sleep too, will you get off my case?"

For now.

"Deal," Riz says, taking off his glasses and placing them on the bedside table before returning to cuddle with Adaine and closing his eyes.

And feeling a much more at ease, she closes her eyes too, focusing on Riz's protective embrace as she drifts off to trance.

#cookies writes and cookies wrongs #adaine abernant #riz gukgak #d20 #fanfic #fhjy #fantasy high

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unhappy-last-resort · 9 months

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Fevered Dreams ( PGR Chrome & ??? x GN Reader)

Warnings: implied somnophilia, manipulation, reader is sick (possibly COVID sick, depends on how my test goes), I am currently ill so I decided to write comfort that's less comfort and more discomfort instead

Lmk any mistakes or improvements I can make.

It started with something small. Just a sore throat and nothing more, but by the next afternoon it had slowly grown into into something more troublesome.

Shortness of breath and fatigue and all while you were on a mission too, how convenient. Gray Raven was quick to shuffle you back to base once a nearby squad arrived to help and off you went back on a ship straight to Babylonia with Liv to accompany you just in case you got worse on the flight back (you did.)

You couldn't help but be frustrated, the day was going well and now everything is going to grind to a halt. You were already dreading what the night would be like when you were struggling even to take a nap. You sit up in your bed and stare a hole into the bedsheets. You didn't feel like doing much of anything, you just wanted to sleep, but that seemed impossible. You kept tossing and turning and even when you did fall asleep for a second you'd have these terrible nightmares; a swelling red tide full of all the cries of the ones you love and care about with their broken hands reaching out to you, looming towers disrupting your vision and transforming your friends- and even yourself into something crazed and horrid, towering trees made of fire and hellish twin faces, a sister in white slowly being torn apart limb by limb as her two red sisters scream in horror and pain of losing each other again as one red sister begs you to do something while the other says to stay away and that you'll never be enough. You're sure there's more, but you're too tired and miserable to try and remember any further.

A light knock disrupts your thoughts, and you're thankful for it. "Come in." You try to say it loud enough so the other person can hear, but you end up giving yourself a coughing fit instead.

"Commandant, I've warned you many times about the cost of exhausting your body." A familiar yet surprising voice sounds through your room and you look up between coughs.

"Chrome?" You croak and your brows furrow slightly in confusion. You're not surprised that he's visiting you, you're surprised that he's back so soon.

You remember earlier...you don't remember when and you can't figure out a time estimate, but he came to see you.

In the midst of your tossing and turning, you opened your eyes faintly to see a blurry figure, the face wasn't close enough for you to tell who it was and judging by the black in the blurry colors, it certainly wasn't Liv. Ah, what was that? It looked like a flash of red, Lucia? But you're not sure that's right either.

It's masculine, so definitely not Lucia or Liv...your brain is so scattered you can't seem to decide on who it is. Names and faces appear and disappear like shards of glass in your mind's eye, fleeting and falling through your fingers before you could catch them.

You open your mouth to ask who it is when the figure speaks first. "Rest. You don't need to fret, I'll be watching over you."

A light pressure forms on your shoulder, pushing you down gently in an attempt to stop the writhing you hadn't realized you were doing. "There's no need to panic, I won't hurt you, I just want to watch over you for a while. I'll look after you and keep you safe."

Noan? Lee? Chrome?...Chrome. It must be Chrome you decided, but why is he here now? You remember Liv saying he would visit at 5PM and while you don't know the exact time now, you knew it was too early to be 5PM.

"Chrome? Didn't you say you'd visit later?" You ask nasally, your throat irritating you to no end. There's a brief moment of silence from the figure before he speaks again.

"I finished my work early, so I decided to come see you early. Is that alright...Commandant?" The voice is melodic, if you didn't know Chrome you'd think he was mocking you right now.

"It's fine, just wondering is all." You mumble as your head falls back onto the pillow, so tired and yet unable to sleep.

"Of course, you wouldn't want a wolf to come in and endanger you." Chrome replies, you feel a finger glide over the line of your torso before stopping right at your midriff. You laugh softly into a coughing fit at his 'joke'.

"Oh my, you really are quite ill aren't you?" A moment later you feel your head being raised and a cool glass press against your lips. Obediently you open your mouth and drink the water and when you've had enough, 'Chrome' gently sets you down again and cups your face.

You keep your eyes closed as he stays like that for a while. You feel his gaze over your face before it slowly drifts down and lingers at your lips, what you assume is a finger runs over your bottom lip before his heavy gaze travels further, studying your neck, then your chest, your arms, your stomach, your hips, and resting a moment between your thighs before the gaze travels the dips and curves of your body back up to your face.

"Go to sleep." If you hadn't known Chrome better it would've sounded like a warning. Regardless, you did somehow manage to fall back into a sleep punctuated with the occasional ghostly sensation of gloved fingers on your skin followed by a soft press of lips, but you couldn't tell if that was from a dream or not, since every time you tried to see who it was...there was nothing.

"Commandant?" Blue eyes swirling with concern and a slight twinge of fear wait anxiously for your answer, a gloved hand stretches out before abruptly hesitating and pulling back. "Commandant, can you hear me?"

"Yeah sorry, I didn't realize I zoned out." You give Chrome a faint smile. "But you don't need to check up on me so often."

Chrome's brows furrow, he seems more anxious suddenly. "Commandant, this is the first time I've seen you today. Did you...perhaps have a dream?"

"Huh? No, you definitely came here earlier." There was no doubt in your mind that that was real. You saw him earlier, you were absolutely certain. You'd even bet your life upon it, that's how certain you were.

"...I wasn't here earlier." Chrome replies, there's no tone of judgement, or mockery in his voice. He says it calmly, confidently, and gently, the same way he does when informing you of strategies or what types of enemies are on the field.

You don't know what to say so you quietly look over the memory again in your mind, combing through it and looking for anything suspicious. It must've shown on your face because Chrome suddenly crouches down in front of you.

"It's...alright if you dreamt of me," Chrome's cheeks flush ever so slightly and he averts his gaze before finding his words once more. "But I want to make sure you know the difference between dreams and reality, Commandant."

There is no hint of judgment in his face, only the sincere and genuine care he has always shown you. "I...you're right, maybe I've been pushing myself too hard lately. I'll ask Liv if I can take some sleeping pills." You're still certain those events were reality, but knowing how concerned everyone already is, you don't want to add hallucinations onto their list of things to fret about so you just go with it instead.

Chrome smiles gently and then it falters for a moment, becoming confused then strained as his gaze lingers on the side of your neck. "Chrome?" You call, wondering what's wrong. Your fingers reach up towards your neck before being stopped suddenly, you look down and realize it was Chrome's hand on your wrist. You stare at each other for a moment before Chrome stands up and clears his throat, letting go of your wrist in the process.

"Ahem...it's nothing, Commandant. I was just thinking about missions. Please get some rest." And with that, Chrome leaves. Quietly shutting the door behind you and leaving you in solitude once more.

Solitude? My, after such a wonderful performance you gave me you think I'd simply leave you to suffer alone? Never, dear little rabbit of mine, would I ever do such a thing.

#pgr #pgr chrome #pgr roland #punishing gray raven #pgr yandere #pgr yandere roland #it's kinda yan ig but not that much #pgr fanfic #unhappy writings #pgr roland x reader #pgr chrome x reader #pgr commandant #tw.somnophilia

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 1 year

Text

Burnin’ Up - Firefighter!Chris AU (Part 16: The Storm)

Summary: Sometimes you never really know what a person is really like until they show they true colours

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: Fluff! Heavy Angst! Language! Emotional Abuse and Manipulation! Flashback of Domestic Abuse and Child Neglect! Panic Attacks!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Meet the Characters!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 16: The Storm

Chris woke to the weight of you completely on top of him, the top of your head just below his chin, your body resting between his legs. Chris smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head causing you to hum as you stirred. You staying the night had been completely unplanned thanks to a few too many glasses of wine over dinner, not that Chris was complaining, there was nothing he loved more than waking up beside you.

“We both need to get up for work” Chris mumbled as he ran his hand up and down your back.

You let out a small groan burying your head further into his chest “Do we have to?”

Chris chuckled gently, making you groan again “Yes we do, but trust me if I had to pick between a 24-hour shift and you, I’d always pick you” he promises as he kisses the top of your head “But I have people to rescue and you have perps to catch”

“with great power come great responsibility” you mumble tiredly as you finally lift your head from his chest “And the great need for a nap” you add dropping your head back down onto his chest.

Chris laughs pushing himself up, forcing you to sit up with him, earning a long whine in protest “C’mon go grab a shower and I’ll have a steaming cup of coffee waiting for you downstairs” Chris says as he climbs out of bed “do you want eggs for breakfast?”

“Nah, just cereal will be fine” you yawn stretching out your back.

“Okay, I’ll put that out for you too,” Chris says as he leans in to quickly peck your lips, you mumble a thanks, smiling gently into the kiss.

Making his way out of the bedroom Chris whistles for Dodger who has been lying on the landing waiting for him. The pair of them make their way downstairs, Dodger’s tail wagging furiously as Chris walked towards his bowl. His paws tippy tapping when Chris scooped out some kibble and put it in his bowl.

While Dodger ate Chris put on a pot of coffee before grabbing your favourite cereal and setting it out for you. He then set about making his own breakfast before pouring himself a cup of coffee and letting Dodger out into the backyard.

There was a sense of peacefulness as Chris stood by the kitchen window watching Dodger run around outside. It was still silent when you made your way into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around Chris’ waist, pressing a kiss to his bare back. Chris smiles softly as he shifts and wraps his arm around you, moving you to his side so he could kiss the top of your head.

“It's such a beautiful day today” you comment quietly as you tuck yourself into his side.

“yeah it is, the weather report said it was going to be miserable” Chris hums.

“I swear the weather report is as accurate as a fortune cookie” you scoff making Chris laugh “Now you promised me a cup of steaming coffee” you remind him, looking up at him.

“I did” Chris hums leaning down to softly kiss you “Go grab a seat and I’ll make it” he promises.

You smile up at him before moving away to go sit down at the kitchen island where Chris had already set out your cereal and bowl. He makes up your coffee just the way you like it before bringing it over to you, kissing the top of your head as he sets it down in front of you.

Over breakfast, Chris asked you where you were with your current case and what your plans were for the day. Once you were done eating you cleared everything up while Chris went and got himself ready and dressed for the day.

When he came back downstairs you had already put Dodger’s harness on and were packing your bag ready to go, a smirk grew on your face when he walked over “Did I ever tell you that my favourite colour on you is Navy?”

“every time you see me in uniform” Chris grins as he pecks your cheek “Ready to go?”

“yep, got everything and Dodger is all suited and ready to go too,” you say clipping on Dodgers lead.

“Perfect, let's get moving then” Chris smiles grabbing his car keys.

On the car journey over to your precinct, you looked over the files for your current case, scribbling the occasional note as Chris drove. He could tell you were getting close to a breakthrough just by the furrow of your brows so he just let you work, keeping the music low so it didn’t disturb you.

Once he pulled up outside your precinct he gently got your attention. You quickly pack the file back away before smiling brightly over at him as you lean over the console and kiss him goodbye.

“see you tomorrow, stay safe,” you tell him.

“I will I promise, I’ll call you later if I can” he promises “Are you gonna be okay getting home to your apartment after work?”

“yeah, Benny said he’d drop me off on his way to Matt’s” you reassure him.

“Good let me know if that falls through, I’m sure Jeffords won’t mind me running out to pick you up,” Chris says reaching over to take your hand.

“Chris don’t worry I’ll be fine walking if I need to,” you tell him with a small shake of your head.

“I know but it’ll make me feel better knowing you’re safe, so please just call me” Chris presses gently.

You smile softly over at him, nodding your head “I will I promise” you smile leaning in to kiss him once more.

“Good, now you better go I can see Benny waiting for you,” Chris says nodding in the direction of Ben who was standing by the entrance to the precinct, his arms crossed with a knowing smirk.

You let out a small chuckle looking over your shoulder, both you and Chris giving him a wave “Talk to you later, love you” You smile as you look back at Chris.

“Love you too, now go before you make me and Dodger late, don’t wanna get pulled over for speeding” Chris smirks making you laugh as you get out of the car.

“drive safe” you chuckle before closing the door and making your way over to Ben.

Dodger lets out a loud whine as he watches you disappear into the precinct “Yeah I know pal” Chris sighs reaching back to pat him on the head “I miss her too”

Putting the car back into drive he pulled away from the precinct and continued his journey towards the station.

As soon as he arrived at the station Dodger went running inside to go greet everyone, making sure he got equal attention from everyone. Chris chuckled to himself as Dodger harassed everyone for pats while Chris made his way into the locker room to put his bag away and get ready to start his shift.

He met the rest of the crew upstairs in the large common room, Jimmy making himself a coffee while Paul played fetch with Dodger. Chris ducked under the toy that was being thrown for Dodger as he made his way over to the fridge to put his lunch away.

“right is everyone here?” Captain Jeffords said walking in clipboard in hand, the whole crew calling out in confirmation “Good since we’re still down a man while Jennings is on her honeymoon sunning herself and drinking pina coladas”

“sounds like you could use a vacation cap!” Paul calls out, pointing out the captain's clear jealousy, making everyone laugh.

“you sound like my wife Hawkings” Jeffords grumbled not looking up from his clipboard “As I was saying her chores need to be split out between the rest of you, so Evans you’re on dinner duty tonight”

Jimmy snorts behind Chris “It’s Italian tonight then”

Chris looks over his shoulder with an arched brow “You know I can cook things other than Italian”

“Now you’re with Y/N you can, before then it was Italian or eggs” Paul points out making Chris roll his eyes.

“I’ve never heard you complain about my pesto eggs before” Chris argues.

“yeah because food is food at the end of the day, no matter how terrible” Paul smirks.

Chris was about to argue back again, defend his cooking honour but Jeffords shut down the argument “Enough, you all suck at cooking” he huffs “Now listen up for your other chores” Jeffords continues to list off all the other jobs that need doing before passing Chris the clipboard ready to oversee it all.

It was around midday when they got their first call out to a small office fire that had started from a dodgy toaster over. It took no time at all to get the fire put out and the equipment removed meaning everyone was back to enjoy lunch at a reasonable hour.

Chris had just finished his lunch and was clearing everything up when his dad and Captain Jeffords walked into the common room, both with grave looks on their faces.

“Chief? Is everything okay?” Chris asks, the entire crew standing to attention, the tension in the room palpable.

“yes, I just need to borrow you for a couple hours,” Robert says barely meeting his gaze.

Chris glances over at Jeffords who nods in agreement, clearing his throat quickly Chris follows his dad back out of the room wiping his hands nervously on his trousers as he went. As soon as they were out of the room he could hear the crew questioning Jeffords about what was happening, he was too far away though to hear what Jeffords said in response.

“Dad, what’s happening? Is everything okay?” Chris questions as he follows him out to the FD Chief's car.

Robert doesn’t answer though he just gets in the car and waits for Chris to do the same. Letting out a frustrated sigh Chris climbed into the car and buckled his seat belt hoping to finally get some answers.

Robert remained silent as he put the car into drive and pulled away from the station making Chris even more worried “Is it ma? Has something happened to her? or Scott? Carly or Shanna?” Chris presses desperate for an answer.

“your ma’s fine, so is everyone else” His dad finally says making Chris breathe a small sigh of relief, it was only a brief second of relief though as his mind turned to you.

“what about Y/N? Has something happened to her?” he demands turning in his seat to fully face Robert.

Robert sighs glancing over at Chris for a split second before returning his attention back to the road “She’s- she’s okay” he says slowly.

“but something’s happened” Chris states trying to stop himself from being sick with nerves, you had told him you were just waiting on evidence to come back before making an arrest, what if that arrest had gone wrong and you were in the hospital right now?

“Chris…” his dad started with a sigh “I can’t tell you anymore” he admits.

Chris slumps back in his seat, his hand running down his face as he tried to process everything, tried to stop his brain from going to the worst-case scenario. He needed to know what had happened, he needed to know you were okay. Grabbing his phone he went to try and contact either you or Ben to find out what happened, but before he got the chance his dad reached over and took his phone.

“you can’t contact her Chris, not yet,” Robert says before Chris got a chance to complain.

“why not? Why aren’t you telling me everything? Dad please can you just tell me if she’s hurt or something!” Chris demands, his voice barely below shouting.

“she’s not hurt, she’s okay but that’s all I can tell you right now, I’m sorry Chris but I just need you to trust me okay? You trust me right?” Robert says with a shake of his head.

“yeah, of course I do Dad,” Chris says nodding his head.

“Good, just remember that and that I’m on your side” Robert sighs looking over at Chris one last time before returning his attention back to the road for the final time, not uttering another word leaving Chris to wonder what he meant and if you were truly okay.

“would you rather have spaghetti for hair or mayo as sweat?” Ben asks out of the blue making your head snap up from the report you were working on.

“what the fuck did you just ask me?” you mutter in disbelief, watching as he swung boredly side to side on his chair.

“would you rather have spaghetti for hair or mayo as sweat?” Ben repeats with a small shrug of his shoulders.

You blink a couple of times, shaking your head not sure whether you had hit your head or something. You look around at the rest of the bullpen trying to spot some sort of sign to say you were actually in a fever dream, but everything was completely normal.

“why are you even asking me that?” you question still thoroughly confused.

“Because I’m bored?” Ben shrugs “So c’mon which is it? Spaghetti hair or mayo sweat?” he presses.

You roll your eyes as you sit back in your chair to contemplate your answer “Is it cooked or dry spaghetti?” you question.

“oh um” Ben mutters tilting his head as he thought for a moment “Cooked”

“spaghetti hair then, because it's still kinda hair like and mayo sweat is just gross” You grimace shaking your head just at the thought of it.

“but then you’d always have mayo on hand” Ben points out.

Your jaw practically hits the floor “You would take mayo sweat!” you gasp.

Ben laughs shaking his head “No I just wanted to see your reaction” He smirks.

“asshole” you grumble turning your attention back to the report you were working on, just as you did so an email popped up on your screen from the forensics team “Oh look they were able to enhance the CCTV footage we got,” you say gesturing for Ben to come and have a look.

Getting up from his desk and walking around, he looks over your shoulder at the new footage “Wahey it’s a perfect match, shall we go arrest him then?” Ben grins.

“yep I’ll go grab some uniformed officers now for back up” you agree locking your computer, standing up and grabbing your jacket.

“Awesome I’ll meet you down by my car,” Ben says slapping you on the shoulder before moving to grab his jacket and head off towards the elevator.

Within the hour you and Ben were walking into the grand apartment complex and making your way up to the top floor. Making sure you had uniformed officers closing off any escape routes you then knocked on the door, a tall man with dark hair answered.

“what now?” the man huffs rolling his eyes down at you.

You glance over at Ben who was already moving past the man with handcuffs ready to go “Mr Drysdale I’m arresting you for suspicion of assault, you do not have to say anything, anything you do will be taken as evidence which can be later used in court” you say reading out his rights.

The man gapes back at you shaking his head “This is bullshit, I told you I didn’t do it” he argues.

“yeah well let's see if that changes after we question you” Ben mutters as he guides the man out of his apartment.

Once you led him out of the apartment complex and into the awaiting police car, Ben turned back to you and held his hand up for a high five, one that you eagerly provided. You smiled to yourself as you climbed back into your car, you considered texting Chris to tell him the good news but ultimately decided until after you got a confession.

Back at the precinct, you made your way back to your text to collect all the evidence you needed for questioning, deciding to check your emails at the same time.

“what interview room do you want sarge?” one of the officers asks.

“um hold on one second” you call back, frowning as you open an email from the commissioner's office “shit” you mutter under your breath.

“what’s up?” Ben asks stepping closer to you.

“My father has requested an urgent meeting, in like 30 minutes” you grumble glancing down at your watch, “said he had a meeting fall through and wants a progress update”

“oh…” Ben mutters “I thought he only called you in when something was wrong” he points out his tone cautious.

“yeah but he calls me from time to time for progress updates, maybe he just considered doing it in person this time, or over lunch considering the time?” you point out.

When Ben doesn’t say anything you look over at him and see a flash of worry in his eyes before it quickly disappears and he clears his throat “Uh yeah maybe?” he says rubbing the back of his neck “What about our perp?” he then asks.

You let out a long sigh glancing around him to look at the perp who was still standing with the uniformed officer waiting on directions on where to go “Put him in the holding cell, let him sweat for a bit and we’ll question him when I get back, take your lunch break while you wait if you want” you tell him.

“Sure, do you want me to drop you over to HQ?” Ben asks, nibbling his lower lip slightly.

“Nah I’m good, I’ll grab an Uber or something, I’ve got plenty of time to get there” you reassure him with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

“sure… we’ll um I’ll see you later then” Ben nods stiffly before giving you a tight smile as you left.

“see you later” you smile putting the file back down on your desk before making your way out, telling the officer to put the perp in the holding cell, trying not to laugh at the loud groan the perp gave hearing that.

As you got into the elevator you looked back out at the bullpen before the door closed, catching Ben watching you go, nibbling on his thumbnail as he did so. Your brows furrowed as you looked back at him in concern, you were about to step back out and ask him what was wrong but the doors closed before you got the chance.

Nibbling at your lower lip you tried to ignore the funny feeling in your gut at the life descended downwards. As the door opened you stepped out onto the street, taking a deep breath hoping the fresh air would calm the unsettled feeling in your stomach. But instead, all you got was a blast of cold wind that made you hug yourself tightly to conserve body warmth as you hailed a taxi.

The journey to Boston Police HQ seemed to go much faster than usual and soon enough you were walking through the halls towards your father's office. You considered quickly going to the bathroom to splash some water on your face since the weird feeling was still present but you didn’t really have time.

When you reached the assistant outside his office you were taken aback at the wide smile on her face. She usually didn’t pay you any attention, she was short with you and downright rude, despite clearly having a good relationship with your father.

“Hi, how are you?” She beams leaning forward as she spoke to you.

“Good thanks, you?” You say trying not to frown at how strange her behaviour was.

“Oh I’m brilliant” she grins, resting her chin in her hand.

“Great, um is my father ready?” You ask pointing in the direction of the door.

“Oh yes go ahead” she smiles waving you towards the door.

You glance between her and the door trying to work out why this all felt so wrong. But you just shook your head giving her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she was trying to turn over a new leaf.

Pushing open the door into your father’s office instantly you notice he wasn’t alone, making you silently curse at yourself and his damned assistant. But when you got over your initial shock you realised you recognised the man standing next to your father, it was Robert. The man sat opposite your father then looked over his shoulder and your heart stops when you see Chris’ stormy expression.

“Glad you could join us, now sit down” your father states coldly from his chair, pointing to the seat next to Chris “We have a lot to discuss”

Chris was angry. From the moment he stepped into this room his fists were clenched so tight that it almost hurt having to hold himself back. This was the first time he’d ever officially met your father and he knew from the look of distaste on your father's face that it wasn’t going to be a happy meeting.

But he didn’t know exactly why he was here yet so he decided to remain silent and keep his face as neutral as possible. He didn’t want to give your father any ammunition at all.

However, when the door opened behind him and he saw the shocked expression on your face his anger doubled. His hands moved to grip the arms of his chair, the wood groaning under his tight grip. You had no clue about this meeting, it had been completely sprung on you with no time to mentally prepare.

Glancing back at his own father, his jaw clenched when he saw his dad refuse to look at him, just looking down at the floor instead. He knew this meeting was happening and didn’t feel the need to share anything.

“Chris- I- what” you muttered in shock, your body operating on autopilot as you moved to sit down in the chair next to Chris.

“do you know why I’ve called this urgent meeting?” your father asks leaning back in his chair, fingers lacing together.

You glance over at Chris for a split second before looking back at your father, your lips parting slightly as if you tried to say something before eventually just closing your mouth and shaking your head. Chris had never seen this side of you, never seen a look of terror on your face like this. You looked sick your skin was already so pale, the look in your eyes was one of a small child who was petrified.

“come on detective, look around” your father snaps making you physically flinch, Chris having to hold himself back from launching from his chair.

“ch-Chris” you managed to say weakly.

“yes, him” your father sneers over in Chris’ direction “I thought I had made myself perfectly clear about my view on his kind”

“Father let me just-“ you tried to say but your father cut you off.

“no! You had your chance and you blew it detective! I had to find out about this from Jake” Your father seethes.

“Jake- I?” you mutter shaking your head in confusion.

“yes I bumped into him a few months back now about a week after the pizzeria fire, I asked him how you were and he told me you dumped him for a firefighter!” your father grumbles shaking his head as he shot another look of disgust towards Chris “Jake was a lovely man detective, why leave him for that”

“That scumbag cheated on her!” Chris shouted unable to hold himself back anymore.

Your father just completely ignored his outburst “I didn’t believe it first, I raised you better than that but I wouldn’t be a good police officer if I didn’t collect evidence” he said reaching into one of his drawers and pulling out a large file, dropping it on the desk with a heavy thud.

You tentatively leaned forward and opened up the file, your hands shaking as you pushed photos around, your lips parting in shock. As you sat back Chris could see your eyes turning glassy as your shaking hand moved to cup your mouth.

Sitting forward so he could have a proper look, Chris thought he was going to implode when he saw what was in the file. It was countless photos of you and Chris together, dating back to before you were even together. The odd times you were seen each other on the job, or he went to visit your apartment. There was even a photo of you kissing him in the back of the ambulance.

“Have you been following us?” Chris growled sitting forward in his chair, one movement away from pouncing.

Your father once again completely ignored him “And what’s worse is that you’ve allowed him to compromise your work!” he argued as he set an MP3 device on the desk and hit play.

Chris thought he was going to be sick when he heard the sound of his and your voices playing back to him. He heard all the times you would discuss work together, the times Chris would tell you to take a break, the times you joked about a public indecency charge.

“you can’t do this” Chris muttered shaking his head “its- it’s illegal, Massachusetts is a two-party consent state”

Your father finally acknowledged Chris with a scoff “So? I’m the commissioner who’s going to arrest me?” he points out “Now I see we have two options here” your father says turning his attention back to you “You either leave him or I fire you”

“you can’t do that!” Chris shouts shooting up from his seat.

“Chris sit down” Robert finally says.

“no!” Chris growls his fury turning to his father “What was the bullshit you said about being on our side!” he demands “You knew about all this?”

“I am on your side Chris,” Robert says calmly “I just needed to confirm whether Commissioner Y/L/N was actually going to go through with his threat”

“What?” both Chris and your father say in unison.

“Well, thanks to you I now have all this evidence to pass onto the anti-corruption team,” Robert says picking up and collecting all the evidence from the desk.

“I won’t let you leave with that” your father argues.

“I don’t need to, you already sent me copies of everything for my own records,” Robert says using quotation marks around the words ‘own records’ “But of course, I’m not the victim here, Y/N is so I’ll let her decide on whether to press charges”

Your father’s eyes dart between him and his dad before settling on you “Y/N, you know deep down this is wrong, I’m just trying to protect you” he says his voice soft as he looks at you.

“don’t you dare try to fucking manipulate her!” Chris growls stepping in front of you, shielding you from your father.

Your father's soft expression turns into an evil sneer as he looks back at Chris, standing up from his desk in an attempt to be eye level with him “You do not want to make an enemy of me boy” he warns.

“yeah I’ve heard the shit you’ve done to get where you are now and guess what you don’t scare me,” Chris says his voice in a dangerous tone as he took a step closer to your father.

“I think that’s enough, c’mon Chris let's go,” Robert says interrupting the staredown between Chris and your father “Christopher let's go,” he says his tone much harder.

Chris breaks his cold stare to turn and crouch down in front of you “C’mon sweetheart let’s go” he says softly taking your hand.

As he went to guide you out of the office your father grabbed your wrist and harshly pulled you back causing you to cry out in pain. Chris instantly saw red, dropping his hand and surging towards your father, in no time at all Chris has your father pinned up against the wall, his arm pressed against your father’s neck.

“Christopher stop! Before you cause any trouble” Robert snaps grabbing Chris by the back of his collar and dragging him out of the room, his other hand gently guiding you out.

Chris’ fists were still clenched as you all walked back through the halls of the HQ, ready to swing if the commissioner decided to follow. He didn’t care less about being charged with assault.

As they stepped outside Chris instantly spotted Ben who was standing by his car, arms crossed over his chest waiting. Ben stood to attention a look of horror on his face when he saw you walk out beside Chris and Robert.

“what the hell happened?” he asks looking between Chris and you.

Chris had hoped that being back in the fresh air would calm him but Chris was absolutely furious, he was moments away from marching back into the HQ and taking a swing at your father. The only thing that stopped him was your broken voice.

“It’s true…” you muttered staring ahead at nothing “Everything you said was true… you- you were right… he’s-he’s a monster”

Chris’ heart completely shattered when he heard the pure anguish in your voice. He glanced over at Ben to see him looking at you in sorrow. Chris knew everyone here wanted you to know the truth about your father, but not like this.

“What- I- uh-“ you stuttered, your hands fanning your body as your chest heaved.

You stumbled as your legs gave out beneath you “whoa, whoa, whoa” Chris cursed as he surged to catch you, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up, his hand gripping yours to remind you that he was there.

It didn’t seem to be working though, your breathing was becoming more erratic, your eyes were completely unfocused. Chris’ hand moved so he could feel your pulse in your wrist, cursing when he felt how fast it was going. He knew exactly what was happening, he’d seen it so many times before at work when someone came to the realisation that their belongings and home has been destroyed.

“Shit she’s going into emotional shock” he muttered “She needs to sit down,” he said as he hooked his arm beneath your legs and picked you up.

Thankfully his dad opens the passenger door to the FD Chief’s car, allowing Chris to settle you down. Chris then cupped your cheeks trying to get your eyes to focus on him.

“Sweetheart hey, you’re okay just listen to my voice and take some deep breaths” he reassures you firmly “Like this c’mon you can do it” he presses, taking your hand and resting it on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Your gaze dropped from his face to your hand on his chest, watching as he breathed slow and deep breaths. Your eyes then found his again, the fogginess in them disappearing as you began to copy his breathing.

“That’s it, that’s perfect sweetheart,” Chris says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, screwing his eyes shut as he tried to control his emotions. He needed to be strong right now, no matter how much it killed him to see you like this, you needed him to be as steady as a rock.

A few moments passed before Chris glanced over his shoulders at his dad and Ben “She can’t go back to work like this” he whispered shaking his head.

“Our Captain will understand, he’s never been a fan of the commissioner” Ben reassures him.

“I’ll come with you, explain the situation” Robert nods “Chris take her home and just make sure she’s okay, I’ll get your car and Dodger and explain everything to Jeffords” he adds passing Chris the car keys.

“I will, thank you Dad” Chris sighs gratefully as he takes the keys.

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry it ended up this way” Robert apologises, glancing over at you with a sorrowful and sympathetic look.

Chris just swallows the lump of emotion in his throat as he nods and turns his attention back to you “Okay sweetheart I’m gonna take you home, back to my place and we’re just gonna relax okay” Chris tells you softly.

You give him a tired and weak nod. As Chris moves to help turn you the right way in the passenger seat and do up your seatbelt for you he could see you begin to tremble as the adrenaline left your system. He reached out and took one of your shaking hands, lifting it to his lips “it's gonna be okay, you’re okay I promise” he reassured you.

He only got another weak nod in response and he had to tell himself that it was okay, this was all a natural response to what has just happened. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before shutting the door and making his way around to the driver’s side. He took a deep breath glancing over at you before starting the car and beginning the drive home.

Arriving back at his place the first thing Chris did was take you upstairs to bed, you were so exhausted that you could barely walk so Chris opted to carry you upstairs. He asked if you wanted a shower or a bath, food, anything, but you just shook your head, curled up into a ball and pulled the covers up.

He let out a long sigh, gently running his hand over the top of your head before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. He promised he’d be right back before grabbing your phone and walking downstairs.

Heading into the small laundry room he had, Chris first removed the sim card from your phone and then turned it off. He had no clue whether it was just your phone that was bugged or your apartment too but he was going to take every precaution. He then buried your phone deep in a basket of towels hoping that it was enough to muffle any sound in case the bugs were still active.

He then went to go sit down in the living room, his hand running down his face with a heavy sigh. He knew he should go back up to you and just hold you, reassure you that everything was going to be okay but right now he couldn’t. He just needed a moment to just process everything himself and make sense of it all.

He knew your father was a dick, but he never expected it to blow up like this. The look of absolute horror on your face when you finally saw your father as the monster he is, will forever stay with Chris.

The more the last hour played through Chris’ mind the angrier he got. To the point that he was angry and lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear someone knocking at the door. He was only aware that it was his dad when Dodger came running in and straight over to Chris.

“you weren’t answering so I just let myself in, wasn’t sure if you were with her or not” Robert explains as he puts Chris’ car keys down on the side, Chris doesn’t respond though his jaw clenching when he remembered the look of shock on your face when you walked in, something that could have been prevented is his dad had just told him what was going on “is she okay?” Robert then asks.

That was enough to make Chris snap, shooting up from his seat making Dodger scramble back in surprise “No she’s not! And it’s your fault!”

“Chris-“ Robert starts his brows pinching together.

“no!” Chris interrupts not wanting to hear what bullshit excuse his dad was going to give “You knew what was happening! You knew what kind of monster he is! You knew he’d been spying on us! On her! And you said nothing! You could have at least let me warn her! she’s upstairs completely broken because of what happened!” he bellows.

Robert takes a deep breath holding his hands up “Chris you’re angry-“

“angry?” Chris scoffs shaking his head at his dad “I’m fucking furious!” he yells “You had a chance to stop that from even happening and you decided not to take it for whatever fucked up reason”

“I had no choice Chris” Robert argues his voice still calm, something that only pissed Chris off more.

“no choice?” Chris repeated in disbelief “No choice! You should have told us as soon as you found out!”

“Chris I’m sorry, I really didn’t want it to end like this” Robert sighs “I only got sent my copies this morning”

“so why didn’t you tell us then!” Chris argues.

“Because I need to see if he would go through on his threat, spying on an individual but using it to blackmail her is a whole other crime” Robert explains “He approached me last week about this, assumed I didn’t know and that I’d hate you dating her because he thinks I have this vendetta against him,” he says with a sigh “so I played along, I hated it Chris I really did but I knew if we wanted to take him down we needed everything we could get”

Chris’ chest was still heaving as he glared back at his father, while he was beginning to understand his father’s reasoning he was still pissed.

“look you’re angry and you have every right to be” Robert sighs shaking his head “But the person you’re really angry at is him, not me, not really anyway… you need a better outlet so why don’t you take Dodger out for a walk or something” he suggests.

Chris instantly shakes his head at the idea “No, I- I can’t leave her, not now” he says.

“Okay well just go have a walk in the backyard then, play fetch or something, I’ll stay here and if she calls I’ll come grab you” Roberts suggests.

Chris took a deep breath, he knew his dad was right about needing to just get out for a moment. He also just didn’t want to look at his dad right now, he was too angry. So he nodded and whistled for Dodger to follow, walking out into the backyard the door slamming behind him.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed outside, just pacing back and forth as he thought through everything. Dodger had stopped playing fetch with him, the pup too worn out to play any more following the anger-driven throws of the ball that went much further than usual.

His brain was just too loud, he couldn’t stop thinking of what he could have done to prevent this. Should he have insisted you told your father sooner? It wouldn’t have made much of a difference because your father already knew, he’d known before you even officially started dating. But maybe the impact would have been less devastating. Maybe doing it on your terms would have shone a light on your father’s behaviour but without completely tearing you apart.

God, he felt so stupid, he should have known. He knew enough about to father to know this would have never ended well, he should have done something, anything.

All his thinking cumulated into a noise in his brain that was just completely debilitating. He sunk down to his knees, his head falling into his hands, eyes screwed shut. His whole chest hurt as he choked out a sob, dodger ran straight over to him trying to snuffle his snout between Chris’ hands. Chris could feel himself spiralling, like a massive weight was on his chest stopping him from breathing, his entire world spinning.

He felt someone’s hands on his shoulders, he looked up expecting and hoping it was you. But instead he saw his ma’s concerned expression as she crouched down beside him.

“Ma?” Chris stutters through his tears.

“yeah, your dad called, said he was worried about you” Lisa explains rubbing his back soothingly.

Chris let out a shuddering breath shaking his head “it's all my fault ma” he chokes out “it's my fault I- I- could have- should have prevented this”

“oh no sweetie no” Lisa sighs wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer “There was nothing you could have done, nothing”

“but-“ Chris says going to argue.

“but nothing” Lisa interrupts “Stop listening to that voice in your head, it's doing nothing to help and listen to me instead,” she tells him firmly, cupping his cheek forcing him to look her in the eyes, simultaneously wiping away his tears just like she always did when he was a child “you couldn’t have changed anything that happened today, nothing at all and it hurts I know it hurts but you’ll get through it, and you’ll help her through it too”

Chris takes another deep shuddering breath “Thanks ma” he whispers.

“it's going to be okay Chris, I know it doesn’t seem like it right now but it will be and you’ll both be so much stronger for it, so when you’re ready you head up those stairs and you hold her because she’s going to feel so alone right now and you need to remind that she isn’t, that she’ll never be alone,” Lisa tells him firmly.

“I will ma, I promise” Chris swears.

You woke to the sound of thunder rolling through the sky. Sitting up in your bed you tiredly rubbing your eyes with your fists. You crawled up onto your knees to look out of the window that looked over the bed. Looking up at the sky you watched as it illuminated, lightning dancing across the sky.

You were about to crawl back under the covers when you heard a loud noise downstairs. You frowned in confusion grabbing your teddy before climbing out of bed and making your way downstairs.

The closer you got the louder and more frequent the loud noises got. You were inching against the wall closer and closer to the living room where the noises were coming from. The closer you got you realised it was voices.

Poking your head around the door frame you saw your parent standing facing each other. Your mom was running her hands down her face as your father yelled.

“Mommy,” you said quietly, far too quietly for either of your parents to hear.

“would you just please listen to me please” your mom begged.

“no! I don’t want to hear any more bullshit excuses!” your father snapped, making your mom flinch.

“they’re not excuses!” your mom complained shaking her head “Just stop being so- so- ignorant to everyone but yourself!”

A large crash of thunder and flash of lightning thundered through the house at the exact same moment your father raised a hand to your mom and slapped her hard across the face. Your mother gasps clutching her cheek, her eyes screwed shut in pain but your cry of terror made them snap open.

She surged over towards you, scooping you up into your arms “it's okay baby it's okay” she consoles as you wail in her arms.

She rubs your back soothingly, rocking you side to side trying to stop your tears. You manage to look over her shoulder at your father. He was standing looking over at you and your mom, a stormy expression on his face that only looked more terrifying as more lightning flashed into the room. You flinched burying your head into your mom’s shoulders to hide away.

She carries you back to your room, making sure the curtains were completely closed before she settles you back down in bed. She still held you close though, shielding you from the lightning and thunder. She whispered soothing words in your ears until you tired yourself out and fell asleep in her arms. Unbeknownst to you, she didn’t leave you that night, she spent the entire night beside you making sure you were okay.

The next time you opened your eyes your mom was gone, it was still night-time and you were in a bedroom that wasn’t familiar. Rubbing your eyes tiredly you flinched when you heard a loud crash of thunder, scrambling back under the covers and covering your ears but it wasn’t enough the next crash of thunder had you crying out in fear.

Climbing out of bed you rushed out of the bedroom, you were entirely sure where to go but you soon found the living room. You then spotted your father sitting on the couch his shoulders hunched as he held a tumbler of scotch in his hands.

“Daddy” you whimpered shuffling closer to him.

“go back to bed Y/N” he mutters not looking over at you.

“I’m scared” you sniffle pulling at your cotton night dress.

“it's just a storm, go back to bed” he huffed downing the rest of his scotch in one gulp.

“Daddy please” you cry stamping your foot.

“I said go to bed!” your father roared making you flinch.

“but- but- but” you stutter as tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

Your father lets out an irritated growl standing up from the couch and grabbing your hand. He physically drags you kicking and screaming back to the bedroom that you woke up in. You begged for him to stop, said he was hurting you but he didn’t stop. He practically threw you onto the bed, not even pulling up the covers and tucking you in.

“go back to sleep!” he yelled pointing at you harshly.

“I want Mommy!” you scream your face red as tears streamed down your face.

The expression on his face turned even more terrifying and he leaned in closer “Mommy’s gone, she’s never coming back” he growls.

“no!” you cry out shaking your head.

Your father doesn’t say anything he just turns on his heels and storms back out of the bedroom. You go running after him but he reaches the door and slams it shut behind him before you can reach him. You tug on the door handle but it won’t open leaving you screaming for your dad, crying out in fear as the storm rages outside. Eventually, you just tire yourself out, curling up in a ball on the floor hands clasped over your ears, falling asleep and staying there until morning.

The pain in your chest hurt so much as you sobbed. Your voice was hoarse as you screamed out, your hands clasped over your ears trying to block the noise out. The image of your father flashing in front of your eyes, terrifying moments from your childhood.

You felt arms wrap around you tightly, a warm embrace surrounding you. through your watery gaze you looked up expecting to see your mom but you saw Chris instead. The painful memory of today flashing through your mind, the memory of seeing your father as the monster he is, the monster you spent years denying and defending.

Your entire body shook as you sobbed, curling up more into Chris’ embrace. He held onto you tight, rubbing your back soothingly, rocking you back and forth. You could faintly hear his soothing words but you heard the wobble in his voice, you manage to look up and through your watery gaze you could see his own tears falling down his face. the sight of him hurting made your pain increase tenfold causing you to sob even harder into his chest.

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