#his name is hank everyone say hello to hank NOW

[chalkrub]

lino print as part of an art trade with @gollygeesir ! dwagon

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire

Summary: You just can’t seem to find yourself in this stupid school for freaks, but just when you’re sure no one cares anymore, a man with adamantium claws disturbs your groaning with a promise. Except he forgot to mention everything good comes with a price.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Anxiety, hints to violence, loneliness, I guess angst, manipulation (The reader is helpless and will look for anything to make her happy), some hints towards suggestive material near the end, bad language word use, pet names.

Word Count: 3523 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Xavier's Mansion.

Also known as the school for “Gifted Youngsters,” or simply for what society prefers to call, “Freaks.”

You’d been there for a few months. You have a very unique power, something even Xavier himself doesn’t understand how to control.

You get these looks all the time when you're walking in the halls of the mansion. You notice it when people cover their mouths to whisper about you and you can’t not notice it when you seem to create a bubble around you as some of the kids try to keep a distance.

Yea, it hurts. You couldn’t deny that either. Sometimes you’d even have to find a restroom really fast to cry to yourself in one of the stalls, but even that hurts when some of the students quickly flood out of the restroom after you enter.

Nobody knew how much it hurt you, nobody even knew what powers you really had. If they did, you would’ve already been sent to the ice box, but luckily, you didn’t know how to use your more dangerous powers. You figured Xavier probably knew about them, considering he can read your mind and he knows just exactly how powerful you really were, but he didn’t know if you knew about them. And what you don’t know, can’t hurt you.

The hardest part was going to class. While everyone else had a table of four people, you sat alone. You did every project alone, with high soaring grades by the way, and you never got to speak to anyone during discussion or free time before the bell rang.

Sometimes you wish you were just… normal.

Of course, you weren’t the only person that was avoided. There were a few other students and even some of the adults that were always avoided. The only true friend you seemed to have was Hank McCoy. Everyone used to fear him, thinking that he couldn’t control the “Beast,” so he knows how you feel. But sometimes it only felt like he tolerated you because you were smart, and you were the only student that could aid him in building anything related to tech, and nanotech, and coding, and all that good stuff.

“Have you figured out why it isn’t working?” Was the first thing he asked you as you walked into his lab. Not a good morning, no how’s class, and not even hello. “I was thinking it had something to do with our maths, that maybe we calculated something wrong but I’ve looked over it again and again and couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it.” He tells you, picking up his notebook which you could see was now full of mathematical equations and random scribbles which seemed to radiate with frustration.

“I don’t think we got the maths wrong, I’ve checked it about a thousand times.” You say quietly, then gently put your bag full of books down under one of his desks so it wasn’t in the way. “Pretty sure it just needs to be smaller. Nothing really about maths though. Other than that, the fibres need to be smaller.”

“So it is the maths?”

“Eh, kind of.” You groan a little and stretch before grabbing a small, delicate pair of tweezers. “This is still too big.” You tell him, placing a sample of part of your tech down under a microscope, strong enough you’re surprised it couldn’t see atoms. “See, this is about as thick as a piece of hair, which is about the size of…” You sigh, looking back at your maths. “It’s about 50,000 nanoparticles, so not a lot, but we need it to be a little smaller.” You tell him, then look away from the small bit of tech to look up at him, his eyes squinted in your direction as is he was trying to understand what you were saying. “Okay I’ll dumb it down. It’s about as thick as a piece of hair right now, we need to numb it down to about… only one hundred nanoparticles, so it should be about as thick as graphene.”

“What’re you two nerds going on about now?” Another voice cuts into your explanation. It was none other than the gruffy voice of Wolverine.

“Oh hey, Logan.” Hank abandons the workstation to go over Logan who was making himself some coffee. “Just figuring out something about nano…”

“Nanoparticles.” You finish his sentence.

“Yea, that.” He says plainly, not bothering to look at you as you turn away from their conversation and look through the microscope.

“Now how do I make you that small…” You whisper to yourself, gently lifting the particle string with your delicate tweezers and examining it through the microscope. “Hmm…” You hum to yourself.

“Y/N!” Hank calls for you, and you turn around. “I’m going out to pick up some lunch for the both of us. What would you like? I’m getting Mexican.” You tell him what you would like, and he takes a moment to clean his work area and stuff his wallet in his pocket before he finally leaves. Leaving you to stand by your desk, doing all the work that has to do with nanotech, but also leaving the Wolverine with you.

“So what exactly are you two working on?” You hear his voice behind you, then you see him next to you.

“Teleportation. Not as complicated as you think, it’s just the fear that gets to everyone really.” You look away from your work, and your eyes land on him. His arms crossed as he leaned on a nearby table, showing enough respect to not sit on your working table.

“Seems complicated. What could possibly be scary about it though? It's just teleportation.”

“Well. If you think deeper into it. Your body and every single atom and particle of your body has to be completely broken down into an uncountable amount of smaller pieces and then your body has to rebuild itself in the secondary location, you just have to hope that it rebuilds you correctly. Or the next thing you know half your right arm is also half of your left leg with toes for fingers.” You say without taking a breath, taking a deep breath after letting it all out. Staring back up at him, his eyes were now squinted in confusion.

“I don’t think anyone is scared of that except you. I’ve never even thought about that.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his scalding hot black coffee.

“Yea well… I’ve had a lot of time to think about a lot of things.” You tell him through gritted teeth, mumbling before grabbing your notebook.

“You know…” He pauses, placing his hot coffee mug on another table away from your work before walking back up next to you, placing his palms on your table where there wasn’t electronic junk lying around. “You aren’t the only one.”

“The only one?” You question, turning and grabbing another tool before looking under your microscope, turning the string around to try and figure out how to break it into a smaller piece, without actually breaking it.

“The only one that’s feared.”

You stop what you’re doing, still looking into the microscope but not actually paying attention to what was right in front of your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way some of the other kids look at you, bub. Like there’s something wrong with you. I know how it feels to not fit in.” He crosses his arms as he leans against your table, attempting to get your full attention. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’ve seen you in the halls. Your name is Y/N, right?” You nod, his eyes and yours locked onto each other. “Logan.” He says, reaching his hand out to shake yours. Your hand basically gets engulfed by his as your soft hand meets his, which were rough and still yet soft, that surprised you, considering… “Hank talks about you a lot also. Not like he loves you or anything, he just tells me you’re smart. Like really smart.” He shrugs.

“Hm…” You hum a little. This is the first conversation you’ve had with someone in this school where they’ve actually treated you like a real human.

“Considering the way you explain this stuff, I’d say he’s probably right about you being smart.” He nodded towards the nanoparticles still sitting under your microscope, it was hard to see from even a foot away considering it was the width of a single piece of hair. “So what exactly is a nanoparticle? Or nano…”

“Nanoparticle" is correct. It just like a piece of tech or anything made of tech like certain fibers that can be visible to the naked eye but they’re very small. Just this one piece is the width of 50,000 nanoparticles.” You carefully pick up the string, and gently put it in it’s container.

“And what was that other thing you mentioned earlier?”

“Graphene?”

“Yea.”

“It’s made of about 50 to 100 nanoparticles, and it can be seen with the naked eye through a refraction of light in a mirror or clear substance that has a bend in it.”

“I’m not completely sure what any of that means. But I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“Yea, I’m kind of a nerd.” You chuckle awkwardly, then reach down to pull your bag over your shoulder, your social battery is pretty much near zero for the day, or maybe week. This was you first time ever speaking to Wolverine and you just nerd out on him? What were you thinking?

“Alright, I got food. Where are you heading?” Hank finally comes back, a bag full of boxes with the three of your foods in them in his right hand as he enters the lab, letting the metal door close behind him.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Well you know the rules. No food in the rooms.”

“Yea, yea. I know.” You sigh, setting your bag back down as he hands you your box of food and you hop onto one of the clean counters to sit down as you eat your food.

“Have you seen Xavier today?” He asks Logan, handing him his food also.

“No, he’s out on some special mission with Mystique right now, won’t be back for about another week.”

“And what does he have you doing? You never leave your room so I’m assuming he's’ got you doing something?” Hank stands next to Logan as they both talk back and forth.

“He has me teaching his third class and fifth class. I guess that one is the anger management class and the other is meditation.”

“Ah, so he’s got you teaching the two classes you used to fail in.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

After working in the lab, a lot shorter than usual, you actually head back to your room. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been ecstatic to meet Wolverine for years, and when you finally get to have a conversation with him, you just geek out on him about nanotech?

As you hang your bag on the wall and remove your jacket only to throw it on the back of your desk chair, you can’t help but want to just smash your head on a wall until you’ve forgotten about everything that’s happened today.

You mope as you walk into the centre of your small room, stopping and staring at the mess on your desk, a bunch of full notebooks covered in little pen markings of maths and science that no one else in the school would understand.

You walk to the desk, take one of the notebooks in your hand that had some free space left, and drop down on your bed. Reaching behind your head, you pull your sweater over your head and discard it on the floor before leaning against your headboard and clicking the back of your pencil until the led is at your desired length.

As soon as the tip of the led touches the paper, your mind wanders. That was so embarrassing… You realise, scribbling random maths into your notebook. I can’t believe I just made a professor hate me too… Not only had you dissociated, but you also completely nerded out. You talked about nanoparticles as if it was the only thing you cared about. You care about more though. You care about the family that was so scared of you they sent you off to this stupid school, calling you a freak and breaking all ties with you. No, you don’t care about them. But you care about your friends so much! You don’t have any friends. Hank is very special to you, he holds a space in your heart. A very, very small space. Yea he doesn’t care about you, you’ve just been able to make about a thousand breaks in his experiments. Then of course he would take all of the credit when he would show it to Professor X.

Why do you even try? I guess working with Hank is the equivalent of the other students going out to the mall with their friends. The only difference is he wasn’t your friend.

You take it back, you had one friend. If you could even call someone you only text cause you’re too scared for actual confrontation, a friend. Nightcrawler- or Kurt. The one guy who’s ever made an actual effort to try and be your friend, he’s just always out on missions. Or so that’s what his actual friends tell you. Maybe you should send him a text and actually verify whether he hates you or not… You get up from your bed and unzip your bag, sticking your hand into the pocket where you always shove your phone, but it’s not there. What the fuck? You take your bag off it’s hook and search the rest of the pockets, and still no phone. You go to your bed, searching under the covers and getting on your knees to check under the bed, still no phone. You check your desk, your discarded sweater, and you sweep the floor with your eyes looking for it, thinking it might’ve just fallen out of your pocket. You hate seeming desperate for a simple device that rots your brain to default, but God that phone is your escape.

“Hey, is everything alright-?” A voice cuts into your messy search as you turn around and your door is cracked just enough for him to stick his head in.

“Sorry, Mr. Howlett, I just can’t find my phone.” You chuckle awkwardly, standing in the centre of your room as he peeks around your room at the mess you’ve created.

“Again, you can call me Logan. I don’t mind it, I prefer it actually. Do you mind if I step in?”

“Yea, it’s fine. Sorry for the mess, I haven’t really had time to clean it.” You nervously link your fingers together in front of you and let your thumb pick at your skin as he comes in, closing the door gently behind him.

“It’s not a mess, just a sweater on the floor and notebooks on the bed.” Sweater on the floor. Of course. Yea, you were standing in the centre of your room, in your shorts and a black fucking clasp on bra. Now you suddenly feel naked standing in front of him, so you cross your arms, hoping to hide at least some of the embarrassment.

“Well uh, what’s up?” You try sounding cool but immediately cringe.

“You left this in the lab.” He tells you, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, handing it to you backside up, so you could see the glittery phone case, adorned with pink sparkles. “Was gonna give it to you in class but you kids go crazy over your phones.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go crazy…” You tell him, humour in your voice as you awkwardly look around your room, the sheets halfway off the bed and your pillows tossed in the middle, the result in the crazy search for your phone. “Would just be a little annoyed…”

“So is everything okay?”

“Yea, why do you ask?”

“I was knocking on your door and sayin’ your name. but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” You laugh dryly. “Sorry, sometimes I get lost in my head and kinda just block out all sounds and sometimes I’ll block out what’s in front of me."

“Oh I see.” What do I say to respond to that? “What were you working on?” Why is he still here?

“Honestly, I don’t know, I was just scribbling.”

“Had enough maths for the day?” He jokes.

“Had enough maths for the month.” You mumble, but then he laughs. A short laugh. But a laugh nonetheless. Isn’t he annoyed by you? Why is he still- “What would you be doin’ if Hank didn’t have you doing all this brain stuff?” Oh.

“Well uh, nothing probably.”

“Not one for hanging out with your friends?”

“Friends? Hah!” You laugh with sarcasm, then walk over to your discarded sweater, bending over to pick it up, deciding to distract yourself with cleaning. “It's not easy for a freak to make friends.” You mumble to yourself, hoping he wouldn’t hear, of course, he did.

“You’re not a freak.” He crosses his arms as you look over your shoulder at him.

“Yea sure. Everyone in the school would so easily disagree with you on that.” You say back, folding the sweater before tossing it into your dirty laundry basket. “Professor X won’t even let me leave the school because he doesn’t trust me. I’m sure you’re no different.” Shit that was supposed to be said in your head. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’d smack yourself right now if it wouldn’t make you look stupid, if he wasn’t in your room still.

“So you think everyone’s the same?” He asks, more of a statement.

“No I- I don’t mean it like that. I just-” He clears his throat.

“Come here.” He demands, looking into your fucking soul. So of course, with a gaze as threatening as his. You stand right in front of him after you walk up to him like Bambi in a traffic headlight. Wobbly, and frozen. “Good, now look at me.” Oh, you forgot that part.

You looked away from his shirt, and tilted your head back to look up into his eyes and for a man who’s so adept at killing his eyes were so soft, and broken…

“If you didn’t randomly blank out, you would’ve also heard Xavier when he told you the only time you could leave, is if it’s with someone else in case there’s an emergency.”

“Emergency from what? Me losing my temper?”

“Exactly that.” Is what shuts you up. “When I said I know how you’re feeling, I meant it.” His voice softens, and you feel your throat knot as you hold back embarrassing tears. “It wasn’t easy for me to make friends either, but honestly I prefer to be in a small crowd. Normally I’m not the one to comfort a student, but you just don’t seem to want to talk to anyone. Why’s that?”

“I’ve tried talking to people. They just give me a look and then walk away.”

“Does that actually happen? Or is that just what it feels like?”

Shit. You hate to admit it, but he makes a point.

What the fuck. Was your next thought as his hand moved up and he gently placed his hand on your cheek.

“I know you hate everyone at this school from the fucking bottom of your heart, but I’m gonna have you try to refrain from hating me. We can strike a deal by letting me take you out of the mansion. I’m sure you’d love to get out, can’t remember the last time you left.”

“Never have.” You whisper, shrugging your shoulders. Your voice is only quiet so your tears aren’t cascading down your face.

“Well if you can just promise to behave, and tell me when you’re getting stressed, then I’ll supervise you like Xavier wants.” He tells you, promising some sort of freedom. “I’m not saying I’m scared of you. If anyone is scared of what you can do, it’s you. Am I right?” You nod. “Use your words, bub.”

“Yea…” Your voice cracks as you barely mutter an entire word.

“Hey, hey…” He says softly, then he suddenly pulls you into a hug. “I’ve got you.” He gently rubs your back, which by the way is still bare since you never got to throw on another shirt. “Just cancel your plans with Hank, I can help you more than he ever will…”

He promises. His fingers gently run over the metal clasps on the back of your bra as you loosely wrap your arms around him, embracing his hug and you nod, not able to formulate any more words as you cry quietly against his chest, your tears wetting his shirt as you both stand there in silence. A quiet smirk on his face as he holds onto you…

[lightlycareless]

I don’t know if you’ve seen the cartoon King of the Hill but there’s this side character named Cotton Hill, father of the main character: Hank Hill. So Cotton treats Hank very poorly and is/was a horrible father but he has a soft spot for Hank’s son, Bobby. Idk if this is me craving a somewhat soft Naobito but I can imagine him having a soft spot for maybe one of the many kids Y/N and Naoya have.

Hello!!

Omg hahah I haven't seen much of king of the hill tbh, except when I was channel surfing and I'd see like a scene or two, but I searched it up a bit and that + a dream I got recently was exactly what I needed to answer this ask.

So, let's say that you and Naoya end up having... 4 kids. Planned, loved, cared for, so on and so forth. Some members of the plan push you to have another one (either because of the superstition behind the number 4, or because they want more strong sorcerers, idk) but you don't let them get to you because you and Naoya are happy with the family you have now.

Years pass, your youngest kid is like 10, and then... an unexpected surprise occurs: you're pregnant! Naoya wishes to say he didn't know how it happened, but you know, one day... both decided to... you know, why not, take a little risk...

And the rest is history.

Either way, both take this surprise very well and end up having one last child: a baby girl named Naohime. (don't ask why, in my dream it was like super cute and I'm going to take advantage of the fact that I rarely dream with Naoya, if ever soooo aajgkhkajgha)

So obviously because of your age (I keep thinking 40's but let's be real, somewhere around 30's mid 30's), alongside the fact that she's probably the last baby both are going to have, the two decide to spoil her even more. Like, give her even more things than what you gave your other kids, be a bit more lenient with being grounded and what not...

Because all of this, she grows up to be quite the troublemaker; always making her relatives upset some way or the other, constantly testing the limits of everyone's patience, with no indications of stopping, nor caring whenever you or Naoya try to correct her. Amongst other things.

And this... amuses Naobito to no end.

I have to admit that more likely than not, Naoya is the only one of his siblings that ends up having kids; I mean, the others are not really pressured to do so, and I don't think they're interested either, or didn't get the opportunity who knows,

Anways, Naobito, with the notions that he's not going to have any more grandkids + his age + his amusement for Naohime's antics, he quickly grows to have a soft spot for her.

The whole clan thought Naohime couldn't be any more spoiled when it came to her parents, but when the clan leader got involved, that's when they learned what spoiled truly meant.

Naobito would end up making lots of... questionable decisions because of his favoritism towards her. Like, placing lands under her name, gifting her cursed tools, or even asking her opinion on trivial matters relating to the clan.

Naoya attempts to put a stop to this, but all that he manages to do is... well, nothing, really. I mean, Naobito doesn't involve Naohime in important subjects anymore after Naoya spoke to him, but she's still involved one way or the other.

The other shocking thing he does is train her personally. That's like, wow, haven't seen that one since he trained Naoya, although the surprise here is that at his old age is still capable of moving haha. To Naobito's pleasant surprise, Naohime is an excellent student, so he ends up liking her even more.

"Maybe Naohime is a much better candidate to be the next clan leader." Is what Naobito would ponder about one day, much to Naoya's horror.

"She's—she's just a child!" he exclaims; although he won't deny that losing what was promised to him is quite terrifying on it's own.

Naobito just shrugs.

And obviously... the two watch anime together. Spend their time criticizing all the same things Naobito complains about, even though Naohime doesn't know much of it (does it look like a child would care about animation?) But she likes to parrot Naobito so there's that hahah.

"anime time" is scared for the two; no poor servant would dare interrupt them while they're watching their favorite series; truth to be told, all his schedule revolves around this.

"Will this meeting clash with the plans I have at 5?"

"Yes, but only because it's of utmost urgency."

"Then no."

"But it's important. It pertains to the future of the clan!"

"I said no—I'm not going to miss my anime with my granddaughter just for some stupid meeting."

"For your—you're avoiding this meeting to watch anime with your granddaughter?!"

Naobito doesn't like being questioned, so that man is never seen again.

So, there you have it. What I think a Naobito with a soft spot for one of his grandkids would be :>; I honestly didn't want to write something like "yeah he'd only like the BOYS" because idk, I've heard stories (and seen them first hand) of people being completely set on their morals, and then, when they grow old and have grandkids, they're like "oh that? idk what you talking about."

Also, I thought it would be cute for Naoya and Y/N to have one last little girl, you know? 🥺❤️ unnghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh one that everyone loves the most.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask! Y'all be asking the REAL questions I love day dreaming about 😈 (jk, I appreciate all asks ❤️❤️)

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[moss-lovingtransmasc]

Hello everyone!!

I'm writing a cherik fanfic and posting my work for the first time somewhere - when I finish it I'll put it on ao3, but for now I'll post sections of it here! Advice, comments, etc. are very much appreciated! (Also my writing style might change between sections/ chapters bc I'm still learning what my style is, just a heads up. :)

(modern AU, college/uni AU, no powers, alternate meeting)

-Monday-

Charles woke up to the sound of his phone beeping. 

The morning sun and late summer air spread through his room from his open window. 

Bird calls echoed from the tree outside.

Groggily, he reached over to his nightstand to turn off the alarm. 

7:30 AM

It was the beginning of his fourth year at Queen Mary University, and by the end of this year he was going to get his Bachelor’s degree in Biology. He checks his university app to look at what his new schedule is. He had Cellular Biology and Calculus III today. Then, he checked his reminders for the day. 

-Do laundry on Tuesday

-Finish graduation project for bio - due second semester

-Fill in empty class period for first semester (ASAP)

-Get groceries

-Pick up anxiety meds for Hank from pharmacy (Wednesday)

Fuck. He forgot to talk with his counselor about that free space in his schedule. 

--

In the middle of his second period, Charles checks his schedule again- and finds he doesn’t have enough time after his last class to talk to Ms. Frost. So when his second class ended, Charles spedwalk to his counselor’s office. 

Ms. Frost’s office was at the end of the hall in the East Wing. He always had a feeling that she didn’t like him very much. Or anyone for that matter. Every time he saw her, she always seemed cold, and occasionally just outright rude to students. Like she was always tired of them. Why the hell did she become a college counselor?

Arriving at Ms. Frost’s office, two faint voices inside got his attention. 

“You can go fuck off for all I care”

“What- What did you just say to me?!”

“You heard me Summers - now get out…Please.”

“Alright I’ll fuck off then…” Scott replied under his breath as Charles heard footsteps towards the door. 

The door swung open, and he caught a glimpse of a pissed off guy leaving the office. His face had looked slightly familiar, and Charles vaguely remembered seeing him pass in the halls on the way to some of his classes.

Grabbing the door knob and stepping inside, Charles saw Ms. Frost at her desk, looking down at some student files.

“Hello! Uh, I’m here about an additional class credit I need for graduation.”

“Okay. Sit down” She replied curtly, opening her laptop and clacking on the keyboard. 

He took the single office chair across from her desk and sat down. A beat of silence passed as Ms. Frost got the student registry up. Charles looked around her office in the meantime. 

It wasn't very cluttered like some other school staff’s offices were. She did have a few decorations and knick-knacks scattered around. Silver little objects on her bookshelves, posh-looking white and diamond decorations on the walls, the light blue picture frames that held her degrees and documents that she was required to hang up. Now that he’s thinking about it, her name really matches up with her room. 

“Name, year and major?”

His head snapped up as he heard Ms. Frost’s voice.

“Charles Francis Xavier - 4th year Genetics Major”

She gave him a look that probably silently judged why he said his middle name. He wasn't quite sure why he did either. As far as he knew of, there wasn't another Xavier in the Science department.

“Lets see…You need one credit left of a creative class, since you've taken almost all of the possible science classes here…”

Oh God no. Charles had never had an interest in drawing, painting, or any other art form, and to be honest, he was never good at it anyways. “Please don't make me take a class with painting or something - I'm terrible at it.”

 “Alright- Well, there is a metalworking class- which happens to be the only class that fits your preferences and your schedule, so I’d recommend that.” 

When did the university have a metalworking class? Sounded interesting enough…

“Uh- sure. I’ll take that. Thank you”

“Okay, I'll sign you up for it then. The next class is tomorrow.” 

“Alright Thank you Ms. Frost!” 

“Bye.” Charles heard her say - in a slightly annoyed tone - as he opened the door to leave. 

That went surprisingly well.

He really shouldn’t have put it off until the first day though…

-Tuesday-

It occurred to him that his new metalworking class might not be that great, or that popular at the very least if they had late scheduling available.  

Oh well - he just needed to graduate and then he could explore genetics outside the restraints of school. First, he had his favorite class of the day: Study of Human Evolution III. He had taken the intro course his first year and loved every minute of it. 

He found it fascinating how thousands of millions of years on Earth had changed tiny single-celled organisms to the conscious and complex beings humans are today. Capable of thought, capable of studying themselves and building societies. Yet still so animal - having base human instincts ingrained into their genetic make up. 

After that class though, he had his first day of metalworking - in room 109B. 

He was not looking forward to this. 

--

As he walked down the art hallways, he eventually recognized the room number. 

Opening the door and peering inside, to his surprise, he found that the class was almost completely full. All except for one seat at a large workshop table in the back of the class. 

Charles stepped inside and walked over, hearing the bell ring seconds after. 

Oh shit he was almost late. 

Charles was almost never late, being the top student in most of his classes, he prided himself on being punctual. He just had some trouble navigating the art hallways, was all, never stepping foot in them before. He had to admit that it was a little embarrassing, studying here for the past three years…

He sat down on the stool, looking at the tall student next to him. He looked about his age, if not a little bit older looking. Not by much though.  

“Hello! I’m Charles.” Introducing himself and offering a smile.

… 

The guy next to him didn't say anything, just smiled politely at him. 

Charles just assumed didn’t like much conversation. 

The professor started introducing himself and his students to the class, mentioning something about the syllabus. Charles normally would have paid more attention if it was any other class, and if it was any other person next to him. 

Charles didn’t normally stare at people this much, even people who he was attracted to, but for some reason he couldn’t stop looking at the guy next to him. As secretly as he could of course, looking at him through the corner of his left eye while facing the front of the class. He knew his face from some of his classes last year, and his Cellular Biology class yesterday. He was usually too interested in the subject matter to talk with anyone, and this guy was quiet and always sitting in the back. 

Besides that, he was just a very handsome man. His strong facial structure, his slightly stern eyebrows. His black turtleneck sweater complimented his neck and captured his figure so well.

“Erik Eisenhardt?” 

“Here.”

Erik then. That was his name. 

Charles listened to the rest of the roll call but didn't hear his name. The roster might not have been updated yet. He made a mental note to talk to the professor at the end of class. 

They first learned about basic safety measures of metalworking, like the protective equipment, hazards, and mentioned a safety contract. He also introduced the class to the tools they had at the stations, what they were going to be using most often, along with techniques like cutting and welding. 

“And remember, metalworking can be a very useful skill to know for trade jobs, but it can also be an art form. And since you all aren't in trade school, I’m going to assume you all joined for the art aspect of it, which is what we’ll be focusing on anyways.” 

The professor stood up and handed out the contracts to each table. 

“Here’s the safety contract I need you all to sign if you still wish to continue. I’ll need it by next class, so I’ll give you all some time to read it today. And please don’t be shy -  feel free to ask any questions.”

As he got to Charles’ table, he realized that he didn’t hear the professor’s name. There was a chalkboard at the front, but it was blank. 

“Hey - Erik was it? Did you catch the professor’s name?”

“Professor Azazel I think.”

“Thank you”

They didn't talk to each other for the rest of class. 

--

As the period came to an end, Charles went up to the front of the room to talk to Prof. Azazel. 

“Hello Professor! I believe that my name isn’t on the list yet? I registered for this class yesterday, but I just wanted to let you know that I was present today.”

“Okay, I’ll mark you down. Next time though, tell me during roll call.”

“Will do! Have a good rest of your day.” 

As Charles went back to grab his laptop bag, he saw that Erik left a small spiral notebook. Picking it up, he decided to return it in his Cellular Bio class tomorrow.

[detroitbecomeonline]

Hello to a bunch of my new followers! My name is Trinity and I'd like to run through some of what my blog supports, my opinions, and other stuff. Feel free to message me anytime or you can lurk like the little goblins you are >:)

I reblog a lot of art, comics, and memes. I like to interpret canon by analysing specific choices on a timeline based on the end outcome. Basically that means I believe a character is canonically horrible, nice, cute, a killer, a saviour, etc. all simutaneously. If you have a take, I probably have evidence to support it even if I don't like it LMAO

My favourite character is Connor because he (apart from Hank) is the only character with strong internal conflict (and I go feral over characters with internal conflict). I enjoy Rose and Adam's interpersonal conflicts with each other, I love Hank and Connor's interpersonal conflict (probably for the same reasons as everyone else: it's funny af), and I found the relationship development between North and Markus rushed and disappointing.

I don't really hardcore romantic-ship anything, but I enjoy a bit of simarkus, and mainly reed900. Reed900 is so, so horrible that it makes me laugh. Make android-racist kiss the upgraded version of the android he hates most. A well-deserved punishment lmaooooo 💀 Also I love the fanon dynamics it's too good.

I like to ship Hank and Connor as father and son because that's such a vibe to me!!! Most of the time, hankcon makes me uncomfortable because of this, but I'm vibing and it's okay if you like to interpret their relationship the romantic way. (Multiple timeline brain, after all^.) I keep the hankcon hashtag hidden but sometimes I sneak a peak hoping it's a funny comic alskdhskjdhd I used to get jumpscared by hankcon because I interpret them as father and son, but nowadays I look at it and go "ah yes, not My timeline" and travel back through the wormhole whence I came 🥴 I can still appreciate some of the art tho!! Btw I'm chill if you tag my some of my stuff as hankcon I don't care 💅

I like to see the RKs as brothers in one universe, but I don't mind the RK ships in another universe. These ships are like a true neutral for me, but the brothers is preferred :) I think I just like family dynamics lmao

I dislike the main fanon interpretations of Sixty, but I do love the memes of him being a dumbass. I like memes of any character being a dumbass. It makes my dumb ass feel less of a dumb. Also it's funny

I REALLY love meta and analysis. I soak that up like a sponge. I love when people throw essays at me or a ramble comes across my feed. I love it so much. Analyse the symbolism!!! Do it do it!!! I will lick the screen like an RK800 I don't care I am Normal about proper good analysis.

I don't really read much fic and if I say I'm going to read something, give me about 1 business month. (I'm not exaggerating I'm so sorry.) I'm more of a content creator than consumer, so I spend my free time making stuff and then I consume when my brain needs to chill out or the guilt gets too strong.

You can find all the stuff I create on my pinned content master post. <3

Once again, feel free to message me or throw me posts but if there is one thing that tops it all: If you find any content of Connor suffering, I require it to live. That's my oxygen. If Connor is reduced to nothing but his entrails on a table and a CPU propped up on a stand, I will be so happy LOL sorry Connor. Get shot homie

Bonus: The PM700 is cool as hell and I have a blondman crush on the WR600 who gave Kara directions to Zlatko's 💀👌

Bonus bonus: Mega crush on Connor too!!! Also I love Zlatko's monsters ok I'll shut up now

[riahlynn101]

"[You] Should Know Better Than That" (4).

Chapter 4

--

Max checks her phone for the hundredth time. She promised Mike she would watch Abby tonight, and even though she’s about to sabotage his chances at continued employment, she intends to keep that promise. 

She scratches Bonesy’s furry head. The dog leans into her hand as if sensing her nervousness. “I’m fine,” she murmurs. The dog huffs but lays his head back on the center console. Her brother hates it when he does that, says it gets the gear shift covered in hair. 

A knock on the window startles Max out of her thoughts. Her brother motions for her to get out. She gives Bonesy one last pat on his head before exiting the car. 

Carl - one of her brother’s less than savory friends that he made in jail - and his father, Hank, joins them. They all talk excitedly about messing the restaurant up. Carl swings a crowbar around. It makes Max sick. 

She’s never liked getting in trouble, but she hates being left out even more. If she was smarter, Max might point to her unstable childhood for the reason why. 

Carl breaks the lock keeping the garage door in place. The noise is loud. Max silently prays that it doesn’t attract any unwanted attention. The last thing she wants is to go to jail. She’s heard enough horror stories from her brother to not want to go anywhere near it. 

Her brother ushers them inside. Max is the last one in. She takes one last look at the car, at Bonesy who watches her just as sadly (which is ridiculous, because she’ll be right back), and shuts the door behind them. 

-x-x-x-

“Mikey,” his aunt says gently. “Get away from the window. You’ll catch a cold.”

It’s early February. A light blanket of snow has fallen on the lawn outside, covering the green grass from view. Snow continues to fall gracefully from the sky. White against a black, starless sky. 

“But ‘m watching.” Mike presses his face against the window. The glass is cold even after hours of him doing this. But he can’t stop. The idea that he might miss the moment the telltale car pulls into his aunt’s driveway….

His aunt laughs, leaning over him to glance outside. Her blonde hair tickles his face. “Eck!” He exclaims, batting at the strands. 

“The snow is very pretty,” she says. “But I have a feeling that that’s not what you’re watching for.” His aunt brushes his hair back. 

Mike ducks his head. “I miss mom,” he admits. The last time he was away from her this long….well…he can’t remember the last time she was away from him for this long. 

“I know, but she’ll be back soon. And when she is, you’ll have a little brother to look after.” 

At the mention of his baby brother, Mike’s smile grows. He had almost forgotten. “Okay, I can wait then. For my brother.”

-x-x-x-

Vanessa wakes with a start. It takes her a minute to figure out what woke her up. Her eyes eventually land on her phone which is ringing uncontrollably. The screen shows a few dozen missed calls. All from her work partner. 

Her eyes widened. What could have possibly happened that would warrant this? Vanessa’s mind goes to some terrible atrocity. A raging fire with a ton of casualties, perhaps? Or maybe one of the town’s residents has gone insane and they’re taking it out on everyone else? 

She answers on the final ring. “Hello?” She says. 

Her partner answers with an annoyed scoff. “Hello. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Judging by your tone, this probably isn’t an emergency. Which means you have sixty seconds to explain why you’re calling me on my day off.”

“Not one to mince words, are ya?” Vanessa rolls her eyes. Out of everyone she could be assigned to, it had to be the one jackass that can barely tie his own shoes. “Anyway, I keep getting calls from this guy named….hm…” there’s a rustling sound, like he’s checking something over. “Ah….Steve Raglan…..said he saw some kind of disturbance down at-”

She cuts him off. “I’ll take care of it.” 

“Now, wait a-”

Vanessa hangs up. Her stomach twists. A disturbance down at Freddy’s means one thing….

Seeing Mike again is out of the question. The thought of cleaning pieces of him out of the metal gears makes her want to throw up. It’s not fair, but she knew this was going to happen.

With burning eyes, Vanessa forces herself to get ready. She tries not to think about the scene awaiting her. All the blood and gore. She knows the children aren’t at fault. They think they’re protecting themselves, but sometimes-

“Be home soon,” she says. Oreo watches her, eyes almost sad. Vanessa shuts and locks the door. 

-x-x-x-

Mike lays across the couch. Tom and Jerry plays on the TV. Abby draws from her place on the floor - he offered to move over, but she said she liked her spot better. Her art supplies are all over the living room floor. Crayons and markers and two different drawing pads. 

“Whatcha drawing?” He asks, sitting up to try and peek over her shoulders. “Your friends?”

“Something like that,” Abby says, which is more than he usually gets. Mike grins. He forces down his other questions so as to not press his luck. 

“Cool, cool.” 

The doorbell rings. Abby and him both look towards the front door. “I’ll get it,” he mutters. “You stay here.” He isn’t expecting anyone until later, so all his alarm bells are going off. 

He slides off the couch. The person continues to press their doorbell as if their life depends on it. The shrill sound echoes in Mike’s head. He groans, rubbing his temples. “I’m coming!” He shouts, hoping that the person will get the hint. 

They don’t, and if anything, his words seem to encourage them to keep going. 

He practically throws the front door open, annoyed and with a growing headache. “What-” The words die in his throat. He frowns. “Max?”

[skylarmoon71]

Alexander (Grimm) Chapter 15

The chime of a door has you looking up. Now seated at the back of the cafe, footsteps approach, and someone takes a seat right in front of you.

“Hello Doctor.”

“Hi Alexander.”

There’s a strange warmth that comes with seeing him right in front of you.

“I was surprised when you contacted me. How did you know I was in Washington?”

“I didn’t. But I figured the council would be looking into this case.”

“So you’ve heard.”

“I have. A friend of mine brought me in to help with the case. He works with the FBI. Alexander, they still have four kids with them.”

“They’ve already committed a capital crime. The FBI has two of them in custody, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know who is still out there?”

“No. I haven’t questioned any of them. I was hoping for some help. That’s why I called you.”

“I understand. The council has a few connections in Quantico for situations like this. However your friend, which unit is he assigned to."

“Behavioral Analysis.”

He sighs.

“I was afraid of that. We can request an interview, but the case will not be transferred to our custody.”

“You won’t have to. Aaron knows everything.” Alexander looks surprised.

“Is he wesen?”

“No he isn’t.”

“So you just told him?”

“We have history. He’s on our side, trust me.” Alexander jaw sets, but he doesn’t comment on your statement.

“When will we be able to do the interview?”

“Half an hour if you’re up to it.”

“I think I can clear up my schedule.”

That’s what you were hoping he’d say.

~Quantico~

“So who is the woman that came in to see Hotch?” Morgan questions.

“Old girlfriend.” Reid states.

“I think we would have remembered her.”

The elevator opens, and in walks the very woman they were talking about. A taller man followed behind. Prentiss turns, recognition crossing her face.

“(Y/N)?”

Her call draws your attention, and your smile brightens.

“Emily!”

You move over to her excitedly and she hugs you the moment you’re within reach.

Morgan raises a brow.

“Am I the only one who is out of the loop.” You pull away.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I’m (Y/N) Nebojsa. It’s nice to meet you."

Morgan shakes your hand, and Reid sends you a little smile.

“Nice to see you again Reid.”

“(Y/N)!” David comes from his office, with a grin.

“Now I really feel left out.” Morgan comments.

JJ is the last to join.

“Don’t feel bad. You were busy with Hank, remember. A lot happened in those four months." JJ greets you. Alexander stays at the back. It’s only when Hotch walks out that he drifts a bit closer. They both meet in the middle.

“You must be Hotchner.”

“And you’re Alexander."

They shake hands, and for a moment there is just silence. Everyone noticed.

“Thank you for assisting us in this case. The interrogation rooms are this way.” Hotch pulls his hand back, and Alexander nods. The rest of the team follows as you head down the hallway.

“Will you be doing separate interviews, or are you going in together.”

“We’ll do both of them together.”

Hotch nods.

“I’ve got you both clearance. You’re listed as consultants on the case.”

That worked great. When you get to the room, you stare at the man on the other side.

“His name is Jerry Keller. “

You look over at Alexander, and he nods, opening the door. You both enter, shutting the door behind you. Jerry straightens up in his chair. He looks fairly relaxed. Alexander inhales, turning his nose.

“Mauvi Don.” Alexander says solemnly. Neither of you take a seat, and Jerry looks a bit more guarded.

“Damn Pflichttreue.” Jerry snarls, then turns to you.

“What are you, his guard dog?”

You just circle him. With his wrist handcuffed to the table, there isn’t much he can do. You finally stop after you’ve made your assessment.

“Let’s go Alexander.” Jerry looks confused.

“Wait, is that it!”

You barely glance at him, and it infuriates him.

“Don’t walk away from me!!”

He woges, and the second your eyes connect, he rolls his head back, dropping into his seat. He looks a bit horrified.

“Shit..”

You can see the fear. When you move closer this time, he’s become quiet. His eyes trail to your neck, the piece of a tattoo peeking out.

“It’s you..”

Alexander is puzzled by the recognition the male shows.

“Tell us everything about your plan, or you being locked away in a cell will be the least of your problems. “ You know Hotch’s team is watching, you have to be careful with your words, and threats.

When you move closer Jerry pulls at his chains unconsciously. He gulps, and you sit down, reaching for his hands. You take it, and you can feel him hold his breath.

“Alright alright!” You release his hands.

“Where are the kids?”

“They’re at a farm. We took them to prove a point. Just like the others. We were all supposed to meet back up, but the cops snagged me and Jed. If we didn’t all come back in an hour then Mike is gonna ditch the kids.”

“Is he like you?”

Jerry nods shakily.

“I-I can give you the address and everything.”

Something still doesn’t add up.

“Why did you spare the children? All the others were killed within the hour of their kidnapping. You’ve had the children for more than five hours.” He looks a bit unnerved at the question, and he glances at the glass behind you.

“One of those brats..she’s a Grimm.” He whispers. Your jaw clenched.

“Mike wanted to kill her the minute he found out, but Jed and I talked him out of it. W-We didn’t want that target on our heads.” Your hand is clenched tight.

“I should kill you right here.” You seeth. He leans away, pulling aggressively at his hands as he tries to stand.

“G-Get me out of here!! She’s going to kill me!!” His ruckus caused Hotch to walk in. Morgan followed behind as he held another pair of handcuffs.

“N-No..NO!”

Jerry woged, snapping the restraints on his hands. He lounged for Morgan who had already braced for the attack. You intercepted, slamming your fist into his gut. His body skidded back, hitting the wall harshly. He coughed, changing back as he gasped, trying to gather his breath. Morgan pulled him off the ground roughly, cuffing his hands.

“He broke those cuffs like they were nothing.” Morgan muttered.

“What kind of drugs is he on?”

Alexander sent you a look as he walked out. Morgan was still watching you carefully. When he was no longer in the room, Hotch moved over to you, taking your hand.

“Are you alright?” He was inspecting it for damage.

“I’m okay.”

“I hate to break up this little party, but we have more pressing matters. “ Alexander looks agitated, but you brushed it off.

“He’s right, we need to find those kids. Then go after Mike. He’s a Mauvi Don. Bodies are going to start dropping wherever he goes. Even more now that he knows his partners have been caught.”

This was one of the moments where a happy ending was not promised.

[thecicadasofficial]

We’re the Cicadas!

Hello Dusty Country (And beyond!). I’m everyone’s favorite bear, Ryan Hoover, and this is the official Cicadas Tumblr blog. Now just between you and me, Old Moe, you know, the guy who runs this team, he doesn’t know about this whole project. It’s kind of a secret, so keep it on the down low, alright?

Anyway, I guess I ought to introduce you to my teammates, right? Well, I’ve already introduced you to Moe Hue. He’s a bit of a stick in the mud and boy does he love yelling. Also, he’s a baseball fanatic. He eats and drinks the sport. It’s nuts. Douglas Hernandez is really dang smart. He was valedictorian of his high school and was on track to become a dentist before joining the Cicadas. He’s also stupid young for such an accomplished person, which is probably why he has no social skills to speak of. What? I never said these descriptions were going to be nice!

Buzz Jones is a really cool fellow. Sure, he’s barely literate, but he makes up for it by being built like a tank. I swear, he’s got muscles the size of my head, and they aren’t just for show. Also, don’t tell him I told you, but he’s an excellent baker!

Paul Rivet is a bit of an outlier on the team. Don’t get me wrong, we “appreciate him” and “value his contributions” And all of that Moe Hue speak, but he’s a swimmer, not a ball player. He likes the water, it’s where he’s most comfortable, being a former lifeguard and swim team champ and all. I dunno. Maybe I’m missing his hidden “talent”.

Hank Olberry is one of them southerners. Ya know, “grits and gravy and hush your mouth”? Okay, okay, he’s from New Mexico just like most of us, but he’s from some rural town with a population of 5.4. He’s kind of new to this whole “living in suburbia” thing, but if you can get him past his nerves, he’s a pretty cool guy.

Casey, Casey, Casey Leroy Torhaul. What can be said about the great Casey? Well, how about we start with his great ego? Or his great incompetence? Or his great lack of common sense? Casey tends to be very annoying, but he can also be very entertaining, so it’s not all bad when he’s around.

Toro Perez is… quiet. I guess. I dunno too much about the guy honestly. He mostly hangs around Hank and draws in his sketchbooks. I know he’s not the healthiest person out there, and I also know he hasn’t had the easiest go of things. That’s about it.

Hubert Cufferd is a jolly fellow. He’s not the smartest guy, but he makes up for that in heart. Don’t tell him that I’m telling y’all this, but even though I complain about his team building exercises, I do enjoy hanging around him. Sometimes. Sometimes he is annoying.

And then there’s me. I’m Ryan Hoover. A lot of people say I’m abrasive or sarcastic or tough to talk to, and for the most part they’re right, but I’m not a bad guy. I just don’t mess around with all of the formalities of language.

So that’s us. I hope y’all get to asking us some questions pretty soon. We’re always open to it! Here’s a picture of all of us! You know, just to put a face to our names:

From left to right, bottom row, there’s me, Ryan Hoover, Casey Leroy Torhaul, Buzz Jones, and Paul Rivet. In the top row, it’s Hubert Cufferd, Moe Hue, Douglas Hernandez, Hank Olberry, and Toro Perez.

[saltymongoose]

Heyyyyy!! It's the anon from earlier!! (You can call me Corvid anon :DD), now now, cracks my knuckles, tis an idea of mine ;

Former Hotdog Vendor reader (preferably one who defected from the AAHW after Tricky decided to kill agents for fun?) meeting up with the Main 3 again after they had decided to grab a bite to eat in a (seemingly) empty AAHW canteen?

Picturing Sanford and Deimos going "0_0" after seeing them go ham on some agents!!

Hey Corvid! This was a really good request, I had a lot of fun with it. Hope you like these! :) 💕

Their Reaction to Hotdog Vendor!Reader ft. Deimos, Sanford & Hank

(TW: Violence)

You’d had it up to here with the AAHW. First, it was the stale food in the break room and the coffee pot that could never boil water properly. Then there was the unpaid overtime and the random calls on weekends to come in because your coworkers “had an incident”. But this was the last straw. You knew that the AAHW dealt with dangerous people (it was created just to end Hank J. Wimbleton, after all). But having to deal with a psychotic, supernatural power-possessing, zombified clown was well beyond your pay grade (and job requirements at that).

You didn’t know why he decided to attack the facility where you worked, but it didn’t matter. When everyone around you was scrambling in a panic, trying to either get a weapon to go fight them or run away, you just decided to take off the sunglasses the agency had provided and walk away. They really didn't pay you enough to deal with this.

After leaving the AAHW for good, you decided to pursue your true passion: cooking. Granted, the only thing you could really make out of the supplies you had access to were hotdogs, but you were sure they’d be the best in Nevada if you perfected the recipe. It was certainly better than whatever slop the agency served anyhow.

Due to the fact that you were an excellent chef, you gained a lot of loyal customers in a short time. Agents, Mercs, Bandits, even the murderous clown himself (“Tricky” he said his name was. Well, shouted, but still.) bought from you, and quite frequently at that. You decided not to bring up the fact that he murdered all your past coworkers, no point in having a grudge against him.

It seems that no matter who you were or what group you belonged to, a hot meal that actually tastes good was too much to pass up. As such, it was really no surprise to you when the three most wanted criminals in the entirety of Nevada stopped by your cart. After Tricky’s regular patronage, nothing really shocked you anymore.

However, they couldn’t say the same. When Sanford and Deimos first stumbled upon you in the middle of a dilapidated city, they were stunned to see you going about your business, serving Fanatics of all people as gunfire echoed from behind them. When you spotted them, you simply gave a tired, but welcoming grin. “Hello, what can I get ya?” Were you crazy?!

They were apprehensive at first, wondering if you were planted here to poison them or something. After waiting around for a few minutes and seeing the others not drop dead and/or choke and convulse on the floor from the hotdogs, they hesitantly stepped forward and placed their own orders. (They’d been out all day, so hopefully Doc wouldn’t mind if they took a break to catch a quick bite.) Your food was much better than expected, Deimos even thought you outdid Gil and his burgers. (Which you thought was high praise, Gil was famous for a reason. Nice guy too.)

You became fast friends with the two early on, as they made a point of stopping by whenever they knew you were in the area. They'd stick around and entertain you as you went about completing orders, Deimos telling jokes and stories with Sanford adding on with enough context for you to know what they were talking about. The latter would even swap recipes and cooking tips with you, much to your delight (it'd been a long time since you spoke to anyone who knew how to do more than scramble an egg).

They were nice enough to give you little updates on whatever chaos they'd been a part of in the area, or warn you when they thought danger was coming. The two would even crowd around you like bodyguards when one of your more intimidating customers came up. Really, you had that part of your job handled, but it was still pretty nice of them.

Then, of course, there was Hank. You'd originally met him through Tricky, in probably the most unconventional way possible. The two had been having another one of their fights in the area, and you had looked up from the tongs you'd been cleaning to see the clown get thrown out of a window right in front of you, face planting into the dirt near your cart. After taking a quick glance at your cart to make sure none of the broken glass had damaged anything (or gotten into your food, that wouldn't pass inspection), you leaned over your "counter" to get a better look at him. "Hey, you good?"

Hank paused in confusion when he threw open the door, finding the clown handing over some cash to you for a couple of hotdogs instead of getting ready to rush at him again. ...What?

It even seemed like Tricky had forgotten all about their altercation, as he didn't pay any notice to Hank at all. He just gave you a cheery (and loud) goodbye before waving and disappearing underground, his sign disappearing into an alley. (You couldn't help but grimace. He should have eaten before going into the dirt. Seems you'd have to remind him again.)

It happened too quickly for Hank to even react, and you looked over to find him staring blankly at the hole the clown left in the ground. You coughed (trying to hold back a laugh) and his red gaze flashed up to you. Immediately, he pulled his pistol out and aimed it at you. (The clown hadn't even tried injuring you. Were you an ally of his?)

You put your hands up in a placating gesture, showing him that you were harmless (though you only half expected to be spared. This was Hank J. Wimbleton, after all). "Hey man, I don't know either...Do you want a hotdog or something? I've got barbecue sauce."

He lowered his gun.

Soon you had another murderous grunt for a regular. While you couldn't say for sure if he thought of you as a friend, he certainly didn't make himself scarce. He seemed to appear even more than Sanford and Deimos, the only warning being the sound of incoming gunfire before he showed up out of nowhere. He was one of those regulars who tended to show up almost daily, and he seemed pleased when you always had his usual order prepared.

(2BDamned was quick to take took notice of this change in Hank's routine. He was always quick with completing missions, but now he was taking twice the amount of time he usually did. He outright asked him about it and was met with a simple response. "I got hungry" was all he said, refusing to elaborate further before he left on another job. Looks like Doc would have to do his own investigating.)

While Hank was around you a lot, he didn't talk nearly as much as the other two. The most you'd heard him say was a raspy "Thanks" once you gave him a free drink, but that was fine. He seemed content just standing near you as he ate. (You were taken aback by his metal jaw though. That couldn't have been comfortable).

The only problem you had was his unfortunate habit of murdering/scaring away the line of people who would queue up for you. ('That's a lot of money that just went down the drain,' you thought, sighing in exasperation. Then again, there was nothing stopping you from going through their pockets now.)

Overall, the three thought you were odd, but they were grateful for you (and your food, of course). Finding someone who actually didn’t want to kill them was pretty rare, but someone who seemed almost completely non-hostile was almost unheard of. You were a breath of fresh air, and they were glad to call you a friend.

(You did show favoritism towards them, even if you didn't admit it. You'd say your kindness was just because they were regulars, but the increased amount of change you'd give them "by accident" and the free pretzels and wings you'd hand out when you noticed they looked more tired than usual revealed it.)

While they could never tell where exactly you'd be, they knew which areas you frequented. Given this fact, it was very suspicious when none of them came across you for a few weeks. Deimos and Sanford were worried; they did have a lot of enemies, what if they targeted you for being close with them?

Meanwhile, Hank would take longer on missions, using his outings as a chance to search the area for you at the other's request. He had an inkling that you were fine (he was confident that he'd have found your cart or something by now if you were dead), but the way you disappeared without a trace caused him some concern.

2BDamned, who had received enough intel from the SQ's agents to know about the easy-going hotdog vendor, knew that your relocation was probably the cause for their weird behavior. He had received a note from you, accepting his request to work as a cook for the SQ, but had decided not to mention it. He figured they'd find out soon enough and slid them a mission briefing the next day asking them to enter an "abandoned" AAHW facilities to look for some supplies. Of course, he also neglected to inform them that the AAHW was also seen still milling about in the area. He figured that if they witnessed your combat skills in action, it would make it easier for them to stop being so protective. Then there would be no issue with the more covert things he had planned for you to handle. (Customer service jobs happen to be excellent for recon and information gathering.)

Doc had told them that the building was cleared out already, so they weren't really cautious when they entered the place. It was just a typical in and out job, not like their raids. They immediately headed to the armory, filling their packs with as much ammunition and guns they as could fit (though Hank was more focused on the blades). After they'd hefted the heavy duffel bags up onto their shoulders, they exited the room, weaving back through the corridor the way they came in.

But as they came to a fork in the hallway, Deimos paused, looking at the signs on the wall. One path lead to the exit, but the other pointed to the canteen. And it had been a while since he's eaten.

"Why don't we stop there? I'm sure Doc won't mind if we get something, it'll only take a few minutes."

Sanford was quick to agree, but Hank just refused (he was one of those people who rarely ever felt hungry anyway). They tried bribing him with one of the guns, but he just ignored them as he continued on his way. Well, it was his loss.

Sanford froze after opening the door to the cafeteria. There was some loud rustling from the other side of the room, and he saw something moving from behind the counter. He exchanged a quick glance with Deimos, hand nearing his hook as he stepped closer to the source of the noise.

They tensed as the person behind the counter popped their head up, only to relax when they saw a familiar face. Your eyes widened in surprise when you recognized them, and you grinned up at the two before rising to stand, dusting off your apron. "Hey, figured you two would show up. Your usual?"

"I-what?" Deimos sputtered, "We've been looking all over for you! Why the hell are you out here?!"

"Did my note not reach you?" You asked, cocking your head. "I tried to let you know that I got a new place. Hotdog cart kinda got...uh..destroyed? No, scrapped would be a better word."

Sanford gave you a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry we weren't there to protect you. Was it the Nexus?"

You shrugged, "Nah, AAHW. Let's just say they hold a grudge." (You conveniently forgot to mention the fact that you had dismantled the cart. It was hard to make sides when blood gunked up the fryer. Plus, smashing someone's head into it happened to dent it pretty bad. The bandits you gave the scrap to didn't mind the remaining gore, though.)

"What'd you do to piss 'em off?" Deimos asked, leaning on the counter as you shuffled around, returning to the prep work you were busy with before they walked in. It was close to closing time.

"Eh, you know. Deserted and stole a bunch of money, maybe a few guns. Typical ex-agent stuff. I honestly thought 2BDamned would've told you by now, he said you'd be coming to recruit me. Aren't you supposed to get briefed on this or something?"

They looked at you in silence for a moment before exploding with questions. ("You deserted? Me too!" "You stole from the AAHW?" "Wait, are you the "supply" we were supposed to get?" (That last one made you raise a brow.))

You just blinked as they rambled on, not able to really answer anything as they talked over each other. A bit exasperated at this point, you were about to interrupt them when a slam of the door caught your attention, making them pause and whip around.

It was Hank, drenched in blood and holding someone's dismembered arm. "We've got company," he said curtly, giving you a nod of acknowledgement before heading back out. (He was a bit surprised to see you, but the AAHW's raid was more pressing.)

Sanford and Deimos nodded at each other before making the move to leave, turning back to you for a brief moment. "Stay here, we'll take care of it. Just, like, duck behind the counter or something," Dei said before rushing out. You sighed. More agents, great.

The three had crowded near the entrance to the facility, trying to stop the flood of AAHW agents from getting deeper into the facility. Deimos quickly noticed a group break away from the rest and take a detour down another hallway, and he reloaded his gun, jumping up to go chase after them. Chances are they were looking for you, and he refused to let anyone harm you again.

"Shit, I'll go get them! You hold the rest back!" He shouted, and Sanford gave him a thumbs up.

"We got it, now go!"

Deimos sprinted down the hallway, growling when he saw the enemy grunts disappear into the cafeteria. He frantically burst through the doors, raising his guns at the backs of the agents who were rushing towards the counter. Before he could fire at them, they were all mowed down in quick succession, and he dove to the side to avoid a volley of loud gunfire. He peeked around a table to see you standing triumphantly before the shredded bodies of the agents and was that a fucking minigun?!?

He watched in shock as you used the heavy weapon to bludgeon the remaining few grunts into bloody pulps, viscera covering you as you caved in their chests and faces, ignoring their attempts to shield themselves as you forced their arms away. He flinched when you finally turned to him, the cold look in your eye sent a shiver down his spine. (For a brief moment, he was reminded of Hank. Were you always this terrifying in combat?)

He let out a breath when your eyes flashed in recognition, and you relaxed from your tense posture, lowering your bloodied weapon. "Oh, hey. Don't worry, I got this place covered. I'll catch up with you all in a bit, gotta get my stuff."

"I-um, yeah. I'll go and uh, help the others," he replied smartly, scratching the back of his neck as he left. What the fuck just happened?

When he returned back to the others alone, Sanford gave him a worried look as he joined him behind some cover. "Are they alright?" Deimos just nodded reassuringly as he drew his guns again.

"Yeah...they're just fine."

Soon Hank and Sanford would get their own show from you. Held in a stalemate with the agents, both sides trading potshots from cover, unable to move forward.

A sudden piercing noise had filled the air (a fire alarm?) and when the agents that pinned them down broke their concentration to look around in confusion, that's when you attacked. The others had taken this opportunity to return fire, but noticed shots cleanly piercing through the skulls of the agents and Soldats unfortunate enough to enter through the main entrance. They glanced back in confusion to see you, wielding one of the TAC-50 rifles they'd picked up. You simply gave them that same easy-going grin, even as your arms strained from the weight and recoil of the large gun. (You really should've been laying on the ground to fire that thing.)

With you blasting through the reinforcements with pinpoint accuracy, and your friends taking care of the remaining grunts who staying in the facility, the AAHW agents were defeated in no time. (Though, Hank and Sanford couldn't stop themselves from glancing back at you every now and then. You reloaded the gun in fluid motions, smooth from previous experience, and you didn't seem to struggle that much from the gun's kickback. The agents definitely weren't well trained, so how were you so good at this!?)

When the final Soldat met its end (a bullet ripping through the middle of their eyepiece, courtesy of you), Sanford immediately turned to face you. "What the hell was that?"

"I know, what the fuck?" Deimos added from next to you, and you chuckled in amusement. The dumfounded looks on their faces were really funny.

"What?" You asked as you rested the rifle on the wall next to you, leaning down next to Hank afterward to search the bodies. "Did you think I survived this long in Nevada alone through dumb luck?"

"Well, no," came Deimos' reply. "But the agency doesn't train people like this, believe me, I would know."

You leaned back in your crouched position, looking up at them. "Back at the AAHW, I was the instructor for weapons training and stuff like that for a bit, just until they found someone to replace the guy I was filling in for. It was my job."

Sanford gave you a pointed look. "That really doesn't explain it."

You held his gaze for a moment before sighing and looking back down to the body of the agent you'd been looting. "I don't know, probably instinct or something. Got the same thing with cooking, except way better. Doesn't matter now, though, I quit..."

You all worked in a stiff silence for a bit, the two easing off as you quite obviously didn't want to discuss your past work. Once you'd finished, you rose to your feet, wiping your dusty (and somewhat bloodstained) hands on your apron.

Sanford made an offhand remark as you walked through the door with them. "They must've paid you a lot, if you were so skilled."

At that, both you and Deimos made noises of disagreement. "The agency pays just enough to survive on, but it'll leave you living paycheck to paycheck. Definitely not enough for me to risk my life fighting the SQ, or a zombified clown"- Hank's gaze snapped to you and you gave him a tired smile-"See, he gets it."

At the other's questioning looks, Hank gave a stern order. "Don't ask."

(While sitting on the bed of their truck, and holding your cap to your head to stop it from flying away, you noticed Hank looking at you. You tilted your head, and he leaned a bit closer. "Is the clown going to be a problem?" You shrugged in a noncommittal gesture.

"That depends. If Doc doesn't give me sweet and sour sauce, then yes.")

[hercleverboy]

the year of goodbyes

spencer reid x gn!reader

masterlist

summary ↠ over the course of a year, Spencer says goodbye to three people— and hello to one.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ takes place in s11, talk of Alzheimer’s,  

word count ↠ 1.8k

massive shoutout to my beloved @ellesgreenaway for beta reading and encouraging me to finish this piece— india you are my actual saving grace

“If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.” — Paulo Coelho

People leaving wasn’t exactly a new concept for Spencer.

He knew it all too well, the familiar look that was cast over peoples features, how their eyes got glassy and lips twitched as they prepared to tell him that they were yet another person who would leave him behind— like so many had before.

But their choice of words was always different. He noticed a sort of pattern, when it came to people walking out of his life. They tended to dance around the words, never exactly saying ‘I’m leaving you.’

First, it was his father. He’d watched him pack a suitcase full of things, spit angry words at his mother and then turn to him, his son— placing his hand on his shoulder, mumbling a few cowardly words and that was that. Spencer no longer had a father.

(‘I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to look after you anymore.’)

Second was Gideon, who never actually said goodbye in person (and Spencer couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse.) Instead, he left, wrote words down on a page and then addressed it to him.

(‘Spencer, I knew you would be the one to come down here.’)

And again, with Alex. Not a goodbye, not in the formal sense, but Spencer’s heart ached with how he knew what this was— he recognised the look on her face and knew that once again, he would lose someone he loved.

(‘You know, Ethan would’ve been a lot like you.’)

Everyone in Spencer’s life started to feel temporary. There one minute, gone the next. He wished that meant that he cared any less for them, or that it hurt any less when they left.

Of course, that was never the case.

His mother’s mental state had been deteriorating rapidly, and nothing— not anything that Spencer’s big genius brain could think of — was helping her.

When he visited her, he saw the vacant look in her eyes. He recognised the look of confusion on her face when he’d enter the room, ignoring how his heart squeezed painfully upon realising that his own mother no longer remembered him.

It would take her a few minutes, but eventually the confusion would disappear and she would give him a smile, greeting him with open arms and warm words.

It was a different kind of leaving, but she was leaving him all the same. She wasn’t physically going anywhere, but, mentally?

He saw how she was deteriorating, he argued with countless doctors and medical professionals, exhausting every book and resource he could find— just hoping he could come up with something.

But, no.

He found it a little ironic. He was the boy wonder, the resident genius of the Bureau’s elite behavioural analysis unit, a smartass who had endless amounts of knowledge.

He always had the answer, always had the solution.

Ironic— because the man who was supposed to know it all, had no clue how to protect his mother from a disease that would inevitably take her from him.

It wasn’t something he would ever come to terms with, it was never something he would accept. He knew how it was going to go, the doctors told him as much.

The day would come that he would walk into his mother’s room, and those vacant eyes would never gain clarification. Her confusion wouldn’t pass, and she would no longer recognise him.

Spencer dreaded that day.

He feared it, even. 

Because the day he lost his mother would be the day he lost himself. 

*

When Catherine Adams’ file came across Spencer’s desk, he thrusted all of his agony over his mother into the case. It was why he decided that he would be the one to take her down in the restaurant, why he insisted that she wouldn’t perceive him as a threat. 

Oddly enough, Spencer found himself intrigued by her. Perhaps, he simply enjoyed being intellectually challenged in such a way.  Or perhaps, somewhere deep down in the darkest parts of himself, he liked the attention, got off on being able to outsmart her. 

He was smug when he managed to trick her into getting into the back of the police van, under the guise that he’d found her father. (After all, she was ‘just another girl with daddy issues’.) 

It was only when Cat gave him a grin, one that contrasted with the tears that slipped down her cheeks, that Spencer felt uneasy. 

He crouched down in front of her, whispered a small, “Goodbye, Cat,” before getting up and leaving the van, feeling a weight on his chest that made it difficult for him to breathe. 

Again, it was a different type of goodbye. One he was of course relieved about, because with it brought the promised safety of Penelope, now that Cat was behind bars. Although, alongside the relief, there was a sour aftertaste. 

It was what led him to take a moment, sitting down on the swings in the park, hands trembling slightly as they grabbed the chains, swinging gently in a slow rhythm that he hoped would calm him down. 

The last words Cat had said to him played over and over in his head. 

“In twenty years, you won’t remember my name. But I’ll remember yours.” 

At first, Spencer assumed she was referring to how after a while, Cat would simply blend into the sea of seemingly never-ending unsubs who all tried, and failed, to outsmart the team.

It was only later that Spencer realised she was instead insinuating that he would succumb to the same disease as his mother— forgetting not only those that he loved, but the ones he hated too.

*

Spencer’s best friend was going to be a father. 

The team were gathered in the waiting room, eagerly awaiting news, when Morgan came out with a smile on his face. “It’s a boy!” 

Pure, unbridled joy burst throughout the room, with Spencer lurching forward to wrap his arms around him, laughing and giving his congratulations. He swallowed the lump that began to form in his throat and pushed away the thoughts that swirled around his mind. Deep down, he knew what would inevitably happen, but that moment wasn’t the right time to think about it. 

It was late in the evening when Derek Morgan stopped by Spencer’s desk. Before he even looked up from his paperwork, he knew where this conversation was going to go. When he did look up, it all but confirmed it— he saw the sad smile on Morgan’s lips, and watched how his eyes glossed over.

He said nothing though. Instead, he smiled and chuckled as Morgan gushed over his newborn son. His smile got even bigger when Morgan handed over the birth announcement— Hank Spencer Morgan.

Although he knew what was coming, he knew what decision Morgan was going to make, he expected nothing less from his best friend. A man who had grown immensely in the years he’d known him, going from a real ladies man to someone who would give up his job in order to be there for his family.

Morgan placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, a sigh leaving his lips. “Kid, listen. Here’s the thing..”

“I know.” Spencer whimpered quietly, smiling sadly. “It’s okay. I know. And I understand.”

He watched Derek Morgan walk away, sniffling as he willed the tears to keep at bay. He watched his best friend, his brother, walk away. And it hurt, God it hurt. But he was so proud of the man that Morgan had become that he pushed aside the hurt, reminding himself of what he knew to be true.

Everyone left eventually. 

Spencer feared that one day, he would look around and find that he was truly and utterly alone.

*

It was a normal Tuesday morning, and Spencer was making his way through the FBI Headquarters, up to the BAU floor. He stepped into the elevator, his coffee mug in one hand, and his other resting over his satchel. Just before the door closed, he heard someone call out. 

“Hold the doors!” 

Spencer reached a hand out, pushing the doors back open. 

You scuttled into the elevator, looking over to the male next to you with a smile. “Thank you for holding the doors. I’m already running a little late for my first day.” You explained, reaching to press the button for the fifth floor, watching as the elevator doors closed again. 

“The fifth floor? The Sex Crimes Unit?” Spencer asked curiously. 

You nodded. 

“It’s your first day?” 

“Yeah, I moved here for the job a couple of weeks back. It was an incredible opportunity, I couldn’t pass it up.” You expressed, and Spencer gave you a tight lipped smile in return. “I’m presuming you work here as well?” 

He nodded. “I’m in the Behavioural Analysis Unit, a floor up from you.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear. At least I have one friend in the building, if it turns out my new team hate me.” You joked, glad when Spencer let out a little laugh. 

“I’m sure that won’t be the case. You seem very likeable.” 

You grinned up at him. “Thank you.”

The elevator dinged, the doors opening. You looked over at your new friend, flashing him a nervous smile. “Well, wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” He smiled back, raising his hand in a small wave as you left the elevator. 

After a long day of paperwork (and thinking of the pretty person he’d met in the elevator), Spencer gathered together his things before getting into the elevator. It stopped on the floor below, and when the doors opened, he smiled at the sight of you. 

You looked up from where you’d been looking down at your phone, mirroring his grin. “Hey! It’s you.” 

“Yes—yes, It is, me.” Spencer replied, cringing awkwardly at his nonsensical response. 

You only laughed quietly at it, entering the elevator. 

“How was your first day?” He asked, only to be polite. 

You seemed surprised that he’d asked, but answered nonetheless. “It was good! Turns out my team don’t hate me. Or at least, I don’t think they do?” Your voice raised in question, making Spencer laugh a little. 

“See? What did I tell you?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

You leaned over, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

“Spencer.” 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Spencer. For the second time today.” 

Spencer smiled shyly, hands delving into his pockets as the elevator dinged. The two of you stepped out, looking at one another with timid expressions. 

“My car, it’s that way.” You pointed to the other end of the car park. 

“I take the subway.” Spencer responded, wishing he could find a way to make you stay a little longer.

“Well, have a good evening, Spencer.” You beamed. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yes!” He responded a little eagerly, sighing inwardly before clearing his throat. “I mean yeah, sure that- that’s cool.” 

You giggled quietly, waving goodbye before turning toward your car. 

Spencer blushed the whole way to the subway station, biting back the smile on his lips at the thought of you. 

People leaving wasn’t exactly a new concept for Spencer. 

But you? 

He had the feeling that you were going to be a very permanent part of his life, and he didn’t mind that in the slightest. 

*

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[wfanfic56]

Crossed line | Bridge | Connor x Reader

Chapter 4

Few days from that thing that happened in front of her apartment have passed. In these days she didn't mention a thing to anyone around her. She didn't ask what happened, why was her former partner here, or what did Hank wanted from him. Y/N was betrayed, not because he called her partner, it's because he didn't trust her after all these years they've been through.

She was silent today, she didn't talk to anyone, hell even when Reed was giving some shitty jokes, she didn't answer.

"Hey... Chicken?....Y/N?...Detective L/N??...Hello??" Gavin tried to call her, snapping his fingers in front of her face just to get any response. Nothing. Y/N didn't even flinch a bit. "What the hell is wrong with you? Hey tin can, come here."

Nines came from the cafeteria, looking annoyed that his partner called him because he expected he would order something for lunch but he didn't.

"Hey, you can scan people, right?"

"Yes, I can scan them.." he was a little bit surprised by the question he asked.

"Can you scan her, she's not talking all day. I snapped in front of her face and she didn't even flinch."

"Her stress level is normal Detective. Everything is fine." Gavin was scared. For the first time he was scared for his colleague. He didn't know what happened. Few days back she wasn't in mood like she always is. He came next to her and slowly put his hand on her shoulder and nudge it a bit.

Y/N slowly rises her head towards Gavin's face. She looked confused, like she was somewhere lost in her mind. "How long you've been standing here?" she asked

"Maybe whole morning. You didn't answered to anyone. What's happening with you, Y/N?

"Just going through something, Gav. It's alright."

"Shit, I'm not bitting for that. C'mon Y/N, is it Hank?" her silence was the answer. He knew it. Gavin saw Hank coming in the station and he turned to Y/N "Hey, I don't want to make you a problem. But listen if you want me to react, just say the word and it would be my pleasure to show him his place."

He made her smile, yet she didn't expect him to be that protective over her. "I will keep that in mind Gav. Thank you." she stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, that Connor saw. He was a bit surprised that you gave Gavin a kiss. Well not surprised, more like jealous, but he didn't complain.

But Hank did. "Instead of doing that L/N, you should do your job. These cases won't solve by themselves."

"Okay, now that's enough. What's your problem Hank? Hm? You think you would find some dirt on my files while I was in other city doing my job. Calling my former partner to ask him few questions about me like I was a criminal. What did you find about me Hank?" Y/N said while everyone including Captain Fowler were listening to them. Nines was by her side having his hand on her shoulder and whispering to calm down.

"What the hell happened to you? Why the fuck you left Detroit? You left me and Cole when we needed you the most, when we were so close to capture them-"

"Because I was protecting you, you dumbass alcoholic." he was shocked and surprised by the name she just called him. Y/N never called him like that. "Don't think I was running away because I was afraid. I was running away because Cole's and your head were on the gunpoint. And after all we did, what we've been through as partners, as a family and as friends, you don't trust me. What a shame. And after you understand what you have lost, don't come to me and apologize because you crossed the line and you can't retreat." Y/N left the department not wanting to make a bigger mess than this one.

"Detective, wait!" Connor yelled and tried to follow her but Nines grabbed him for his shoulder

"Don't cross the line. She needs to be alone now. But in the meantime, try to fix this bridge between them." Nines sent him a message.

[vinnival]

Hi. Can you please write main 3 + Sheriff x Russian reader. (well, that is, a typical Russian from stereotypes. Also, so that the reader speaks bad English and often uses Russian phrases) it is strange to write this being Russian, lol

If you're sure, my friend! Also I see your other request, and I'll get to that soon,, I wish you luck <3

Я использую Google

Translate😩

(I am using Google Translate😩)

HANK

Why.do you drink so much

??? Hello???

Are you okay? How are you still alive???? Where are you even getting the alcohol????

Everyone would be daring you to chug but Hank would be staring in concern 👁👁

Sometimes you complain about the heat, wondering what it'd be like if it was just a little colder

Definitely very confused when you go on a rant in Russish (Russian + English)

Like, he'll hear some words he recognizes, but not all

At least he pieces together what the problem is using said English words and trying to link them together

Honestly when you have trouble thinking of an English word, he thinks it's so cute, and help you remember it

Like you'd forget the name of "ammo" and be stuck there with him for the next five minutes desperately doing charades to figure out the word

SANFORD

He's intrigued to say the least

He never thought he'd come to love someone as... brash as you

Brutally honest too

Like... brutally

ALSO worried about your alcohol thing

"Are you- wh- you good?"

"Completely fine, cпасибо" (I hope that's the correct translation for thanks 😭)

Your interest in bears is always cute, too bad there's like None in Nevada

Loves just sitting there and looking at you,, you release an energy that he is just infatuated with

Its cute when you speak broke English

He tries to teach you English sometimes :]

You're cool to the touch. Why are you cool to the touch? Nobody knows, you just are

Great for cuddling this warm ass man that has no shirt on, ever, and is still warm

You call him nicknames in Russian and he always blushes even though he doesn't even know what names they are HAHAHA

DEIMOS

Saying his name.....with your accent........ wonderful way to get him flushed and stuttery

Remember when I mentioned that the others would be daring you to chug alcohol?

Yeah that'd mostly be him

But by god don't let him challenge you to a drink-off!!!!!

He will die of alcohol poisoning!!!!!

Definitely tries to bring you as much fur as he can bc you like just petting fur

And wearing it but like. There's no tailors here sooo F

Sometimes tries to pronounce Russian words that he sees (in the most cockiest voice ever like "Yoo i can say this! *proceeds to completely butcher the word*")

Yes he fails miserably

But hey it makes you laugh so he's not gonna stop

Definitely slides up to you one day

"Hey... do you know any good Russian insults-"

"Oh my god, Deimos."

"WHAT? I think me shouting that my enemy is a limp-dicked pissbaby in RUSSIAN is just pure COOLNESS!"

"..."

You:

SHERIFF

Russian mf with a southern mf what will happen!!!!!

Now this one... its okay to challenge a drinking game with

Just don't let him get too far

Thinks it's cute that you just mf sit in front of the ac all the time

"Reminds me of home"

Man is literally infatuated with you saying anything in that accent

When you get angry and start yelling at grunts that mistreated Sheriff? He feels like the coolest man in the world

Like, "Hell YEAH y'all! That's MY s/o!"

Please teach him Russian oh my god

He's so desperate to learn it so you two can exchange cute lil convos together

Sometimes you'll grab his hat and try and do his accent and oh my god. Oh my god

You've shot him in the heart how could you💔/j

He just really loves it

Loves calling you "doll" after the Russian doll jdjshaha

Literally the only word he knows is Babushka

Loves saying it a lot, thinks it's a cool name to say

That's partially why he wants to learn more Russian too

:) he just thinks you're neat!

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Grey Boxing Gloves.

As always thank you to @beccabarba​ for keeping me on track with this series. And thank you for who has followed along this far and been nothing but supportive of this series and my writing.

*Grey Leather*

*Grey Uniform*

*Grey Dress*

*Grey Vase*

*Grey Blanket*

*Grey Jeans*

*Grey Socks*

*Grey Boxes*

*Grey Balloons*

*Grey Singlet*

*Grey Cocktails*

*Grey Keys*

*Grey Rope*

Warnings: Cheekiness, light swearing, boxing and smut.

WC: 1696

Enjoy x

You were spending most of your time at home with Bishop, he not leaving your side and being nothing but amazing. Miguel had sent through a few messages asking how you were going and inviting you both up to the house once you felt up to it, which you were ignoring for now. You were both sitting on the couch, cuddled up together when Bishop’s phone started to ring, he looked down at the name on the screen and he kissed the top of your head,

“I have to take this, baby”.

The call didn’t go for long, Bishop not saying much during it and hanging up after he said he would be there soon. You sat up off him and looked at him with a small smile,

“You have to go?”

“Yeah, somethings came up.  I’ll call Rosa to come sit with you”

“Can I come?”

“If you want to” Bishop smiled at you brushing the back of his hand over your cheek.

The wind blew in your face and you lent your chin onto Bishop’s shoulder, your arms around him tight as you rode through town. Chucky opened the gate when he heard the reeve of the bike, Bishop driving through it and parking under the shelter where the guys usually parked their bikes. You both got off and Bishop gave you a quick kiss before he rushed inside. You looked around the yard and saw Steve setting up a bunch of weights near the fight cage,

“Hey Steve” you smiled walking over to him.

“Hey Y/N, how you feeling?” He gave you a side hug.

“I’ am ok” you smiled at him “What’s this for?” you nodded towards the weights.

“Fights tonight. Angel likes doing them before it”

You helped Steve set up the rest the equipment and it wasn’t long after that Ez, Angel and Gilly walked out the door, Angel holding a set of grey boxing gloves. They walked towards you, they all hugging you hello. Angel handed Ez the gloves and took off his vest throwing it over the weights. Angel saw you eyeing them off,

“Want a go niñita?” he nodded towards the gloves and you nodded back “Vamos, you can be my warm up”

Angel grabbed two sets of hand wraps and while Gilly wrapped Angel’s hand’s, Ez wrapped yours,

“You’ve seen the fights before Y/N. When he swings duck or lift your arm up to block him. His whole left side is weak. Keep your hands up and cover your face. Upper cuts, put your body weight into it, hocks and kicks make sure you put your hips behind it”

“Ok” you smiled and nodded back at Ez.

Angel stepped through the gate into the cage after he took off his boots, you walked over kicking off your sneakers, stepping in and walking to stand across from him grinning,

“Let’s go, Y/N. Let's see that bad ass in you sweetheart”

You kept your gloved hands up near your face ducking and dodging as Angel threw his hands towards you. You managed to kick Angel’s left hip and when he dropped to the side you punched his shoulder, Ez and Gilly whistling and cheering you on,

“Go Y/N, beat his ass”

“Knock him down, Y/N. Show us what you're made of” Gilly yelled.

Bishop, Hank, Taza and Creeper walked out of the clubhouse door all stopping in their tracks and Bishop frowned his brows,

“The fuck?” he muttered.

They all watched on and laughed loud when they saw you giving Angel a right hock straight into his jaw, knocking him back into the chain fence, Gilly and Ez wolf whistling at you,

“She’s good” Hank patted Bishop’s shoulder, the rest of them laughing as they walked down the stairs to circle the cage cheering you on.

You saw the sparkle in Bishop’s eye and the permeant smirk on his face even after you stepped out of the fighting cage and you kept giggling to yourself knowing that Angel wouldn’t ever live it down that you won and knocked him into the fence more than once. After having a quick chat, you both decided to head home. Multiple kisses on the back of your hand and Bishop pushing back into you at red lights, your arms around him tightening.

Bishop road the bike up the drive way, kicking it off and you both got off it and walked to the door unlocking it and walking into the bedroom towing off your sneakers, sitting on the bed and brushing your hair off your forehead, when you looked up to Bishop standing in the door way looking over at you and he gave you a wink,

“You, ok?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I be?” Bishop walked over to you, pushing your legs apart and standing between them, his hands resting on your neck, his thumbs running over your chin.

“Just asking” you smiled up at him, turning your head to kiss the side of his thumb,

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Bishop raised an eye brow at you.

“Just from watching the fights and Ez gave me a few tips when he was wrapping my hands”

Bishop nodded, slowly starting to push you down on the bed. Once you were lying flat, he kicked off his boots and shrugged off his vest and all but jumped on top of you. Bishop lips crashed on yours, his tongue dratted into your mouth, he rested on one elbow and then his other hand pushed up under your t shirt. Bishop’s lips kissed along your cheek and up to your ear, his hand up your shirt then going down to cup your core through your shorts and you arched into his touch,

“So strong baby, beating all these bikers’ asses and putting them in their place” Bishop whispered into your ear, his fingers slipping up into your shorts leg pushing into your panties “But little does everyone know, that when it comes to me, your putty in my hands”

You moaned loud, the tips of his fingers brushing over your clit. Bishop pushed up off you, getting up off the bed stripping down, you following his lead, laying back on the bed bare, the cold of the bed cover on your hot back made you shiver. Bishop grabbed onto your ankles pulling you down the bed slightly before he bent down pulling his belt out of the loops of his jeans. He sat the belt on the bed and then grabbed your hips flipping you onto your tummy. Bishop straddled your lower back, grabbing both your hands and pinning them together.

Bishop lent down to your ear, kissing your cheek,

“You ok with this baby?”

“Yes” you moaned out.

“Say the word and it stops”

“Yes” you nodded.

Bishop grabbed his belt, wrapping it around your wrists and buckling them up so you couldn’t move them. His lips started a trail of kisses down from your shoulder and down to your lower back before he moved in between your legs. Bishop’s hands went to your hips, pulling them up so you were on your knees, his hands running all over your back and up and down your arms, his long hard length running along your soaking lips.

“So pretty with everything you do baby, but I love when you're like this”

You smiled small and then your mouth dropped open at the feeling of the head of his cock starting to push into you. Bishop let out a grunt as he bottomed out, stilling for a moment to get his breath, his finger tips slightly pressed into your skin. You started to push your hips back into him, the need for him to move in you taking over.

Bishop let out a growl as he looked down watching his long cock disappearing in and out of you as you moved back and forth on him as best you could with your hands behind your back. Bishop’s hands ran down over our lower back, down over your ass cheeks and down your thighs enjoy the feeling of you. Your chest was heaving from the pleasure pulsing through you at the angle you were in, Bishop hitting the spot every time you slide back onto him.

Bishop could tell you were close by the way you were trying to move faster over him and how you tried to tug your hands apart. Both of Bishop’s hands went to your hips and he started to slam you back into him, rolling his hips into you just as hard. One hand stayed on your hip and the other snaked down under you, connecting with your pearl, rubbing over it with the pad of his thumb. You started to moan load, Bishop’s name and God mixed together,

“That’s it baby, such a good girl for me”

That was all it took for you to fall over the edge, your hands balling into fists and your eyes slammed shut. Bishop thrusted into you hard and fast, tensing with a loud groan of your name, his cock twitching inside you, coming hard and deep in you. He took a moment to catch his breath, pulling out of you and reaching down to undo and pull off the belt from around your wrists.

You dropped down on your tummy and rolled over onto your back, moving your legs to either side of him. Bishop grabbed your wrists kissing them both on the insides and dropped down on top of you, his lips on yours kissing you deeply, his thumbs rubbing over your temples and your hands running up and down his arms,

“Love you so much baby”

“Love you too”

“You know I want you for the rest of my life, don’t you?”

“I know, and I do too” you smiled at him “As long as I get to put your ass in it’s place when your old and cranky”

Bishop let out a low chuckle kissing your forehead,

“I’ am old and cranky now, baby”

“After what you just did to me, you're definitely far from old and far from cranky. If only everyone knew how well El presidente takes care of his girl”

  Tags: @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo​​​​ @alwaysachorusgirl​​​​ @withmyteeth​​​​ @frattsparty​​​​ @justchillin-inhell 

[captain039]

We can take care of each other

Hank x reader x Connor

Warnings: ABO, poly relationship, swearing, police things, Intimate, sexual, harassment, Daddy Hank, anxiety, angst, domestic from cases, other criminal things

Ah when you can’t decide between daddy and baby boy 🤷🏻‍♀️

Reeds a dick

After deviant revolution

You stared at the dead body on the ground disgusted. Seems people still had it out for people.

“What we got?” You heard Hanks voice. You stood by him and Connor by you probably analysing the body.

“Dave Frank, 29, alpha male, worked at the little shop on this street called human goods” you frowned at the weird name.

“Ok” Hank took the tablet from the officer.

“Looks like he had a partner, 25 omega female Chelsey Lilac” your stomach sank a little. No matter how far in life you got, omegas will always be looked down on.

“Possible suspect?” Hank asked and the officer nodded. Hank handed you the tablet and you went through the briefing. Connor looked also as you scrolled through.

“We’ve got signs of struggle, signs of a possible fight, neighbours complain there is lots of yelling and crashing on this place” Officer Chris sighed.

“Domestic” you muttered and he nodded. You hated these cases, omegas trapped with an alpha they can’t escape from without some serious form of damage.

You hand fisted tightly, you needed air or something. You felt a hand go around yours and frowned looking to Connor. He looked at the body though and intertwined your fingers together. You clenched his hand tightly without realising finding some comfort in it.

“Stinks in here” Hank grumbled going outside. You let go of Connors hand and followed. You took a deep breath in of fresh air and sighed. You looked over the backyard, it hadn’t been taken care of in years. It smelt of rain, wet dirt and-

You frowned catching the scent of a frightened omega.

“Hank go inside” you said and he frowned.

“What? why?” The man asked.

“Just do it” you snapped and he raised his hands up and went inside.

You looked around noticing a shadow behind the large slip bin.

“Hello?” You said softly going closer.

You saw scared eyes shine in the light.

“Chelsey?” You asked and she nodded. You stood a meter away she was shaking and drenched from rain and mud.

“My names Detective Y/n” you said softly glancing to the door which Hank stood at staring at you.

“I didn’t mean too” she sobbed coming into the light.

“I-“ she stuttered as you glanced to the knife in her hand. She had blood on her, wounds on her head and arms old and new.

“Here” she handed you the knife and you stuttered.

“Y/n” Hank called you and she fled.

“He’s gonna hurt me” she whispered.

“All alphas are cruel” she added and you felt your heart clench.

“It’s alright” you said looking to Hank. You laid the weapon on the ground.

“I need you to stay there though please” you added and Hank frowned but stopped. You saw Connor come out the door also.

“Connor, stay there” you said and he frowned but stayed also.

“Two?” She whispered.

“Are you trapped?” You frowned at her questioned.

“Am I trapped?” You asked.

“Two alphas” she said.

“No, Connor isn’t an alpha, he’s-“ you couldn’t call him an android.

“He’s a deviant” you said.

“Oh” the girl muttered.

“One alpha” she added eyes darting. She was in shock, no doubt about that.

“He’s big” she said scared.

“Does he hurt you too? We can run!” She stood and grabbed you.

“No- no he doesn’t hurt me, he isn’t my alpha” you said holding the young woman’s arms.

“Doesn’t hurt you?” She said confused looking to him.

“Not yours” she mumbled.

“Chelsey I need you to come with me” you said and she tensed.

“Away from here” you added.

“Away” she repeated.

“Away” she nodded holding onto you. You tensed as she held you, she wanted comfort from another omega. She shook in your hold, both wet now from the rain, blood smeared on you also.

“Come on” you said softly leading her around the house and to a car.

“No alphas” you said as one went to get in. She nodded backing away and got a beta.

“I’ll see you at the station” you said to Chelsey and she nodded.

You sagged drained, your body was shaking from the cold, emotions haywire.

“Good job” You heard Hanks voice. You turned to him and he frowned. You wiped your eyes realising you were crying and went to his car. You and Connor had hitched a ride. You hid behind it the best you could from across the street. You took deep breaths and cursed softly.

Hank had followed you, worry in his eyes as you began to pace.

“Y/n” he called but you didn’t listen.

“Omega” you froze on the spot. Hank sighed as he stood in front of you, you stared at the ground shaking. He grabbed the back of your neck and tugged you close. You sighed leaning your head against his shoulder. He gently massaged the back of your neck while you calmed down.

“Hank?” You heard Connor call before hearing him behind you.

“Is everything alright?” He asked and you smiled faintly, he still didn’t understand humans.

“Just worked up” Hank said and you moved to rest your cheek on him instead. You wrapped your arms around him without thinking, enjoying his warmth and smell.

“Very worked up” he muttered. You felt a warm hand on your back and glanced to Connor who offered a kind smile.

“You’re freezing detective” he said softly and you nodded.

“No shit” you said softly.

“Lieutenant?” Someone called and you tensed.

“Oh-“ the officer stood a little awkward.

“Connor” Hank said and you frowned.

“I’ll be back” he said to you rather softly and you nodded. You looked to Connor after letting go, you shuddered, your teeth chattering.

“I can warm you up detective” he said and you flushed.

“I have inbuilt heaters, see?” He took your hand and rested it on his stomach. You frowned at the amount of warmth coming from him.

“Please don’t blow up” you muttered going closer.

“I can assure you I won’t” he smiled and you nodded.

“I suggest you put your arms around me detective” he said after your awkward stance.

“Oh- Connor the reason I did that to Hank-“ you trailed off embarrassed.

“He’s an alpha” Connor said and you nodded sighing.

“I’ve bonded to him in a sense so he’s my source of comfort is all, just don’t tell him that” you muttered slowly putting your arms around the android. You sighed feeling his warmth seeping through.

“I should take you everywhere” you said without thinking and rested your cheek on his chest.

“You’re so warm” you hummed contently. You tensed slightly when one hand rested on your back and the other on your neck.

“The lieutenant did this” Connor said softly as he massaged your neck lightly.

“Calms me down” you mumbled.

Your heart was pounding but you didn’t want to let go of him. To be honest you had bonded to both of them in a sense, your little family, just you couldn’t tell them. When you weren’t around them it was lonely, you felt empty almost, you had gotten use to be alone when you left home, but when you met Hank it just crumbled.

“Right-“ Hank had come back and obviously stood shocked.

“I have inbuilt heaters” Connor said simply.

“You should feel how warm he is” you said chuckling.

“Jesus” Hank muttered shaking his head.

“Come on let’s get you home” he sighed.

“What about paper work?” You let Connor go and looked to Hank.

“What about it? Do it tomorrow” he shrugged and you smiled slightly.

As you pulled up to your house you got everyone inside and out of the rain.

“Curse this weather” you said turning on your lights.

“Where’s the damn remote!” You yelled in the lounge rummaging.

“Heater on” Connor said and it turned on.

“Oh” you muttered.

“I forgot it could do that” you said.

“You want a towel?” You asked them both. Connor nodded while Hank shrugged.

You went to your cupboard and pulled out some towels. You gave the two men some and one for yourself.

“I need a warm shower and PJ’s” you said cursing sticky clothes.

“Detective?” Connor asked.

“Yeah?” You said.

“Is it alright if I stay here tonight?” He asked and you frowned. Usually he stayed with Hank.

“Yeah if you want too” you shrugged.

“You wanna sleep over too Hank?” You grinned at him and he glared.

“Fuck you” he said and you laughed.

“I need a drink” he muttered running a hand down his face. You looked a little too long, wet hair slicked back down from him pushing it out the way, clothes drenched defining his surprising body sculpture.

“There should be some in the cupboard” you said.

“It’s alright I need to change clothes” he said hanging your towel on the kitchen chair.

“Goodnight lieutenant” Connor said.

“Night” Hank waved.

You followed him out and stood under your veranda.

“You be ok with him?” Hank turned back to you.

“Connor? Yeah” you said and he nodded.

“You ok?” He added and you nodded.

“I’ll-“ you shrugged.

“Get through it” you sighed. Hank sighed like he wanted to say something, he stood a little tense before leaving to his car. Your heart sank a bit and gave a small wave before heading inside.

“I have to shower” you said looking for Connor.

“Connor?” You called hearing water running. You went to your bathroom and frowned seeing him pouring a bath.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he stood.

“Running you a bath” he said. Your heart swelled at the thought.

“I don’t normally take baths” you chuckled and he frowned.

“But I’ll jump in” you added quickly.

“I’ve noted it for next time” he nodded and you frowned next time?

“Thanks” you said again softly as it filled.

“I don’t know what clothes to give you, you could try a pair of PJ pants and top, I always buy mine too big” you said.

“I won’t intrude on your personal belongings detective” he said.

“Oh- right” you mumbled embarrassed.

“Let me get you some hang on” you walked to your bedroom. Connor followed but stayed by the door as you shifted through clothes.

“Uh try these” you said handing him a pair of plain grey PJ’s.

“You’ll need a towel” you moved passed him and grabbed a fresh towel.

“Uh, put your clothes-“ you looked around.

“In the basket” you said grabbing the washing basket.

“I’ll hang them up after my bath” you said and he nodded.

“Alright” you said.

“I’ll be ok detective” Connor smiled.

“Ok” you smiled going to the bath.

You sunk into the water and sighed the warmth soothing your muscles.

Your eyes closed as you thought back to the case, the young woman had gripped your tightly, when she asked if you were trapped, you were confused. Hank wasn’t your alpha and Connor was, well Connor. You tried not to think about it as the water started to go cold.

You drained the bath and hoped out drying yourself. You forgot to bring clothes you realised and cursed. You peeked out the door and saw Connor on the couch. You quickly snuck to your bedroom and closed your door.

You got dressed and did your hair up messily before heading back out.

“Did they fit?” You asked as he stood. You held back a laugh at how the shirt looked like a big crop top on him.

“Is something funny?” He asked confused and you laughed.

“You look like some sport obsessed teenager” you laughed.

“I’m sorry Con” you said smiling.

“I’m afraid they’re a bit small” he smiled.

“If it’s too uncomfortable take the shirt off” you spoke without thinking again.

“When I’m in bed” you added quickly as he gripped the hem. You glanced to your pull out couch, did he sleep? Power down? Something.

“Do you want a bed?” You asked.

“I don’t require a bed” he said and you frowned slightly.

“But I’d like one” he smiled.

“Alright” you chuckled shaking your head. You struggled with the pull out bed, it finally click and swung out a bit to quick.

“Fuck!” You said tensing as it unfolded itself.

“They really should put warnings on these things” you mumbled. You went to the cupboard and found some sheets and unused pillows.

You set his bed up as he watched intently.

“Right, you want a blanket?” You asked.

“Just have a blanket” you added quickly knowing he would say something like he didn’t require one but wanted one.

“What’s the time” you muttered glancing to your band.

“1 in the morning” you groaned.

“I’m going to bed, make yourself comfortable, I don’t know what you do with Hank” you said nervously chuckling.

“Thank you detective” he said sitting down.

“Y/n” you said and he frowned.

“You can call me Y/n out of work I’ve told you this” you chuckled softly.

“Well, goodnight Y/n” he said and you felt your heart skip.

“Goodnight Connor” you smiled heading to bed.

You laid awake for a while a smile on your face, Connor was adorable in things he did, still learning human emotions and how to speak like one, it was funny. You didn’t expect Hank to embrace you like that either, you melted in it though, you felt like you were in heaven despite the depressing rain and situation. His hand felt nice on your neck gently massaging, his natural scent had seeped through the alcohol and the smell of Sumo on his clothes. Connor had a fresh smell you guess, his clothes were always clean unless soaked in the rain. A neutral scent almost, it was nice for a change. Slumber eventually took you, the sound of rain lulling you to a deep sleep.

Next Chapter ->

[reidetic]

Whining and Dining (Spencer Reid/F!Reader)

prSummary: Reader teases Spencer by sexting him during a team dinner. Chaos and smut ensues. 2.7k word count.

A/N: Hi! I got to write this for @thisgirl-knm​ for our discord’s fic swap. This was so much fun to write, and I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I loved writing it. 

CW: swearing, daddy kink, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

The dinner was one I had been looking forward to for a while now. We hardly ever got weekends off these days, what with the country seemingly crawling with killers. Rossi had planned a big evening at his house, fine dining a la David Rossi. So, there was pasta and wine to be had, and no shop talk allowed. It sounded like a blissful evening. There was only one problem. Spencer Reid had not touched me in weeks. It was understandable, as the team still didn’t know about us, and being on constant cases meant any time we got to go home we scrambled for our beds and passed out. But I was beginning to get impatient, and tonight I was determined.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Spencer calls from the living room, and I giggle to myself, turning to look in the mirror. I’m wearing his absolute favorite dress on me, paired with one of his blazers rolled to the elbows, the blazer resting just below the hemline of the dress. 

“I’m coming! Just needed to grab a jacket.” I toss a longer duster coat over my ensemble and pick up my purse and head towards him, and he smiles, a huge grin. 

“You’re wearing that dress.” He smirks a little and pulls me close to him, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Any particular reason?”

I laugh, not wanting him to see through me just yet. “Figured it was as good of an occasion as any. Are we still taking separate cars?” I reach up to grab my keys, and he grimaces but nods. He still hates driving.

“If that’s still okay with you. Less questions that way.” I know he’s right, but the feeling of hiding settles in my stomach like a rock. We both would never live it down, and the HR paperwork seems like a giant headache on top of all the other paperwork we’re drowning in. Not to mention the lectures, the seminars, it’s just a lot. 

“It’s fine, just double checking!” I lean up to kiss his cheek, and he opens the door, ushering me out.

The drive is innocuous, an easy half hour with Spencer following me out of the city. We’re the last ones to arrive, but I can easily blame that on traffic. After all, it’s DC. Pulling up, I marvel at the house before me. I swear it gets bigger each and every time I see it. I go in first, letting Spencer follow behind me a few moments later.

“Ah, she’s here! Benvenuta, darling!” I smile as Rossi opens the door and pulls me in for a hug, the smell of Scotch following him.

“Running a little late, aren’t we, y/n?” Morgan follows, his joking tone betraying his words. He reaches out and takes my jacket, hanging it on a coat rack to his left.

“You know how traffic out of the city gets.” I smile invitingly, making my way back towards JJ, Garcia, and Emily, taking a seat on the sofa beside them. “It is so good to see you outside of the bullpen.”

“Ah! No work talk.” Emily exclaims, handing me a glass of red wine. “We’re all here except Spencer. Where is he, anyways?” She muses, and I balk. Just as I’m about to make an excuse, the doorbell rings.

“Speak of the devil!” JJ laughs, and the greeting process begins again, with much less physical affection this time, save Garcia, who of course runs to hug him tightly. He’s learned to tolerate and maybe even enjoy her hugs over the years. 

For appearances sake, I call out a short, teasing, “What took you so long, Reid?” He shakes his head at me and just offers a simple excuse about getting caught behind a train out of the city. It works for the team, and we all chit chat for a while, nursing our drinks and pilfering Rossi’s precariously placed appetizers. Eventually, Rossi announces it’s time to move to the backyard for the main course, and small cheers fill the air. 

I make a quick excuse and step into the hall bathroom, pulling out my phone as the door clicks behind me. Opening up Spencer’s contact, I type out a small, teasing message.

‘Check your pocket.’

‘Y/n. What is this?’

‘You tell me.’

‘It seems to be your underwear, little girl.’ One seemingly quick second later, he follows it with another text. ‘You’re going to get us caught.’

‘Sounds like you should make sure we don’t, daddy.’ I slide my phone back in my blazer pocket and duck out of the bathroom, hurrying to join the others at the table. The only seat left is of course directly across from Spencer, seated in between Rossi and Emily. 

“Nice of you to join us, y/n.” Emily teases, and we all laugh. It’s nice to have a teasing moment between friends sometimes, and I intend to remind Spencer of that fully. After the attention leaves me, and focuses on Emily and JJ’s son, I pull out my phone and text him again.

‘You look distracted.’

‘I wonder why.’

‘Can I fix it, daddy?’

He sucks in a quick breath, choking on the water he’s drinking. He puts his phone back in his lap before glaring up at me briefly.

Morgan claps him on the shoulder. “You alright man?”

Spencer responds with a very obvious, “Yeah. I choked.” The team once again laughs it off and returns to their conversation, paying us no attention. 

‘You’re going to pay for that.’

I tune into the conversation then, purposefully ignoring the text, and pretend to not notice when the phone vibrates in my lap. Rossi is talking about his newest book, and I chime in with a quick, “Hey, we said no shop talk!” and Rossi relents, and Morgan brings up a subject change, something about Hank and Savannah.

I check my phone, and there are three messages waiting for me.

‘Are you ignoring me, little girl?’

‘That was a question.’

‘You’re in big trouble now.’ I stifle a giggle at that, and reach one leg across to him, slowly sliding my foot up his leg. 

‘Daddy, why? I’m innocent.’

‘Sure you are.’ He catches my foot and wraps one hand around my ankle, effectively stopping my teasing.

‘I am! You’re being mean.’

‘You’re about to see mean.’ He clears his throat and pretends to check the time. “It’s getting late, you guys. I should head out. It’s going to be an early morning for me.” He pushes his chair back and stands up, beginning to make his rounds. 

“Got some hot date, Reid?” I pipe up, laughing with Emily and JJ. What they don’t know will make for a funny joke someday.

He simply glares at me, offering Garcia her goodbye hug and makes his way back through the house. About thirty seconds later, my phone buzzes.

‘In 15 minutes, I’m going to call you. You’ll pretend it’s your neighbor, she’s been locked out and needs your help. Then you’ll meet me at my place. Understood?’

‘20 minutes.’

‘I said 15.’

‘Fine, daddy.’ I groan internally, knowing I’ve got a storm waiting for me back at his apartment. Good thing I’ve got tomorrow and Monday off, to heal the bruises he’s likely to leave on my ass.

Fifteen minutes later like clockwork, my phone starts to ring. I pick it up before anyone can see the caller ID.

“Hello?” I ask, as if I don’t know who it is.

“Remember what I said. I’m your neighbor, I got locked out.” I can hear his smirk through the phone, and it takes all I have not to huff. 

“Mary? You’ve been locked out? Yeah, of course, I’ll be on my way.” I hang up the phone before he can say anything else and extend a smiling apology to the team.

 “My neighbor got locked out. I need to go help her, I’ve got her spare.” The team is of course, smiling and accepting, and Emily comes to help me put on my coat and close the door behind me. 

“I thought your neighbor’s name was Beth.” Emily posits. I freeze, and turn to her with a smile.

“That’s what I said! Beth. My neighbor.” Emily smirks and pats me on the shoulder, laughing softly.

“Have fun with Spencer. Don’t worry, I won’t blow your cover.” She strides back towards the backyard and waves you off. All you can do is laugh, right? 

…

Emily takes a seat at the table, grins at Rossi and says, “You owe me 50 bucks.” 

Rossi groans. “Y/n admitted it? I thought it'd be the kid for sure.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a fifty, slapping it into Emily's outstretched hand while the team laughs.

...

The half hour drive home is nerve wracking and thrilling all at the same time. I wonder just how much trouble I’m in, or maybe he'll make it nice for me. He really won't be nice when he finds out Emily knows. 

I pull up to his apartment, nervously stealing the last on street parking in front. Guess his neighbors will have to walk. 

I make my way up to his door and shake off the nerves, settling back down into a bratty state. It's what he deserves, not paying me any attention. I bring a hand up to knock on his door, but he opens it before I can rap against the wood.

“Hello, little girl. You took quite a while.” He motions to grab my coat and ushers me in and closes the door. Even when he's angry, he's still a perfect gentleman.

“About that…Emily may have made a comment insinuating she knows that we are together.” The whole sentence comes out more like a squeak and he steps forward, pressing me against the door I just came through. 

“And who's fault is that?” His knee comes ip to rest in between my legs, the tiniest bit of attention under my skirt. He leans forward and starts to press kisses into my neck, leaving barely there traces of his tongue.

“I think we were both at fault there.” I snicker, craning my neck to give him better access.

“Oh? And who started the texting tonight?” One of his hands begins to snake down and trail back up my skirt, pulling me down on his thigh. “Because it wasn't me.” I whimper at the contact and he has the audacity to laugh at me.

“You could’ve s-stopped me.” I pull off his blazer, tossing it behind us and start to unbutton his shirt when he stops me.

He catches my chin and forces it up, looking into my eyes. “Did I give you permission?” 

“No.” Despite my words, my fingers keep up their work of undoing his shirt.

“Then stop, little girl.” His voice is a warning, low and quiet.

“Make me.” In one swift move he grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head, effectively stopping any motion I might've made. Except for the part where I could grind against his knee.

“Oh, you pitiful thing. So needy for me that you have to rub against my thigh for just a little bit of friction, hm?” He's laughing at me, but he's holding his thigh just where I can get myself off, and I’m refusing to hold back my moans. So be it if his neighbors know what he's into. 

“Please, daddy.” Being held up against the door, there's only so much I can do for myself. 

“Please what? What do you want?” His words are kind but his tone is mocking, and his smile gives him away. He's having fun with this, torturing me.

“Please, help me, let me ride you, something, daddy, please.” I've never felt more embarrassed that I’m so turned on by being denied like this, but anything this man does turns him into more of a sex god.

He takes the begging, releases me, and sits on the couch in the living room. It occurs to me then that his blinds are open, and I decide then I don't care. If the team knows, the whole city can know. I swing a leg over his lap, straddling his thigh and locking my fingers around his neck. 

His hands meet my hips and he pushes me down on his thigh, giving me more of that delicious pleasure. “Go on, little girl. Ride my thigh until you finish. But you better ask permission first.” 

I bite my lip and nod at him, uttering a soft and whiny, “Yes, Daddy.” I rock myself back and forth, loving this attention I’m so desperately craving. I feel the pressure build in my stomach and throw my head back, moaning loudly as it builds and builds. 

“Let me finish, please? Can I please?” The sentence hardly makes sense but luckily he's feeling nice, at least this time. 

“Go on, little girl. Be good for me.” And with his words, it sends me over the edge and he kisses me, threading his tongue through my mouth and silencing my screams of his name. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” The brat is wiped out of me at this point, too tired to keep of the façade that he doesn't own me.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head ever so slightly at me. “You made a mess, baby.” He pushes me off of his lap and motions for me to get his pants off, which I do, tossing them behind us. He makes quick work of my dress, seeing as how my underwear were already off and in his pocket from earlier. “Stand up.”

“Why?” I whine, slumping my head against the couch cushion. 

“Because I fucking said so.” He grabs my arms and pulls me up, all but throwing me over the side of the couch. 

He smooths over my ass, humming appreciatively. I feel his erection pressing up against me, and I arch my back and wiggle into him. 

“Oh so eager, my little girl.” He chuckles and traces a finger through my wetness, eliciting a louder moan than expected from him. “All this just from my thigh?” With no warning, he thrusts into me all at once. 

“Fuck! Daddy, you feel so fucking good.” I moan, the pleasure heightening my senses and making me feel all but drunk. One glass of wine at Rossi’s is nothing compared to Spencer's dick. 

He moves faster then, reaching a hand up to thread it through my hair and pull me back on to him with every thrust. 

“Little girl, you're so fucking tight. How are you always this tight?” He groans through clenched teeth, fucking me with an unfair but so rhythmic thrusts of his hips. He knew how to build me back up again and it showed.

“Please, just use me, Daddy.” I choke out, every muscle in my body preparing for my impending orgasm. 

“Oh, I plan to, sweet little girl. You teased me all fucking night, from the time we left to your silly little texts.” He reaches one hand down and finds my clit, rubbing circles and bringing me to the brink of orgasm for him. “You gonna come for me, baby?” He pants, drawing near to his finish. It had been two months, after all. 

Almost as if on cue, my release found its way out of my body and I came around him with a loud cry of his name. He yanks my hair and buries himself into me, filling me with his simple warmth.

He collapses on top of me momentarily, before drawing out of me with a hiss and falling onto the couch. 

I giggle and stand up, stretching my tired muscles. “Did you have fun, Daddy?” 

“Always do with you.” He smiles, and I lean down to kiss him deeply.

“I love you.” I say, and he pulls me onto his lap. He presses another kiss against my forehead.

“I love you too. I guess Tuesday will be so much fun, huh?” I groan, thinking about the implications of the team knowing.

“Yeah. But you're worth it.” I laugh softly, and wrap my arms around his neck. 

“You mean that?” I say brightly, batting my eyelashes at him dramatically. 

He chuckles and says, “Always.” 

taglist:  @dontkissthewriter @imagining-in-the-margins  @sunlight-moonrise​ @httpnxtt​ @samanddeanstolethetardis221b​ @spencer-reid-in-a-pool​ @fanficlibrary82​ @dreatine​ @andiebeaword​ @zhuzhubii​ @prettyricky187​ @reidlusts​

[kimoralov3]

Hello, Old Friend

Requested by: @nuclearpizza84

Word Count: 2449

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!black!mutant!reader

espèce d'imbécile = idiot in french according to google translate

Warnings: swearing, talks of attempted murder, mention of racial slurs

Charles’ POV

“Who’s the next person on our list?” Erik asked as he sat in one of the chairs, propping his feet up on my desk. I pushed his feet off of my desk then picked up the notebook filled with mutants we could possibly recruit.

“Someone by the name of (Y/N) (Y/LN). They live in Atlanta, Georgia, and as of now it doesn't seem as if they have a job."

"(Y/N)? I used to know someone with that name. Do you have a guess as to what their mutation may be?" Erik sat up straighter in the chair. Oh, now he's interested now that this person has the same name as an old friend of his?

"No I don't, but I guess we shall find out soon. If we want to make it there and back before midday tomorrow, we should leave in the next 30 minutes." Erik nodded and stood up, walking towards the door. "What if this person happens to be your old friend?"

"If this is the same (Y/N) as the one I know, they'll need a lot more convincing than us being in the same boat as them. They're quite stubborn in that way." Erik said as he stopped and turned to face me.

"Like you?" I asked as I titled my head to the side slightly. Erik glared at me before exiting the room, not bothering shutting the door behind him. There was definitely something else going on between Erik and his supposed old friend.

----

Erik's POV

I stepped out of the car, buttoning up my coat as I took in my surroundings. We had taken a taxi to a small town, not too far from Atlanta. There was a corner store across from us, some restaurants down the street, and a combined book/coffee shop. Of course you would run away here. It's the perfect place to escape from your past. 

"Well, it certainly is quite lovely here. According to Cerebro, (Y/N) comes here every other week to get some more books for the orphanage across town. Very nice of them." Charles said as he made his way towards the book/coffee shop. I followed him, taking one last look at the street before stepping inside.

One half of the shop was filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves, all marked with whatever genre of book filled the shelves. If we were to walk about a foot forward, we'd be standing directly in front of the white and grey display case. There was a counter attached where the coffee machine sat. The back of other side of the shop was filled with bean bag chairs and pillows, while the front is where the tables and chairs sat. 

"Welcome gentlemen, would you like a cup of- Erik?" A voice said as they came from the back. I turned my attention towards the owner of the voice and smiled.

"Hello, (Y/N). How have you been?"

"Wow, he wasn't lying, he actually has friends. I'm impressed." Charles said with a hint of mockery in his tone.

"Erik, what are you doing here? I thought we agreed to never look for each other again." (Y/N) asked as they walked around the counter to stand in front of us.

"Well that was then, and this is now. We need your help." I said. They haven't changed a bit. 

"Oh, I've heard that before. You can fuck off Erik, I'm never helping you again." They said as they glared up at me. You always did look cute when you were upset.

"I don't know what the history between the two of you is, but he's not asking for your help. I am. In return I'm offering to help you control your mutation. If we could sit down I could explain everything further." Charles said as he looked between the two of us.

"Mutation? What are you talking about, I don't have any type of mutation. And who even are you?" (Y/N) asked as they finally turned their attention towards Charles, giving him a once over.

"I'm Charles Xavier. You see, the three of us all have a gene- well, a mutated gene- that gives us specific abilities. I'm a telepath, and Erik can control metal." 

"You're crazy. The whole time Erik and I worked together, he never showed signs of having any special 'abilities'. Other than being an asshole." (Y/N)'s lips curled into a slight smirk at the insult.

"It's not my fault you kept getting in the way." I said.

"You pushed me off a fucking train, Erik. I think it's safe to say that that wasn't my fault."

"You're the one who wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. I told you to stay in the train and wait for me, but you just couldn't follow directions." 

"So you decided that the safest bet was to push me off a moving train?"

"Exactly."

"Erik, you're not helping. (Y/N), I understand that you probably don't trust Erik, but you can trust me. If anything goes wrong, I'll take full responsibility. So what do you say?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath, looking between the two of us. I was beginning to think that they'd say no and kick us out, but they finally came to a decision. "Fine, I'll help. As long as Erik doesn't double cross me. Again."

Charles looked at me expectedly, making me roll my eyes. Please, we need all the help we can get. Charles communicated to me telepathically. "Fine, I won't double cross you."

"Excellent! (Y/N,) let's take a taxi to your place so you can gather some of your things. On the way, I can tell you all about my research and what exactly it is we're doing here. I'm sure you'll find it all very interesting." Charles said as he led (Y/N) out of the shop. 

"You coming, espèce d'imbécile?" (Y/N) asked as they got in the taxi. I snapped out of whatever trance I was in and got in the taxi.

----

(Y/N)'s POV

Charles had spent both taxi rides and most of the plane ride explaining his findings about mutants. To be honest, I didn't understand most of it, but he seemed excited to share this information with someone new, so I wasn't going to stop him. All I knew was that I had another reason for people to call me a freak. Once the plane landed, Charles drove us to his house- excuse me, I mean mansion. "Well shit. You lived here by yourself?" I asked as I got out of the car. 

"Well, not entirely. I have a sister named Raven, you'll meet her soon." Charles said as we walked inside. I can't believe I'm in a fucking mansion. If only my parents could see me now. 

"Oh good, you're back! Hello there, I'm Raven." The blond girl said as she smiled brightly and ran over to me and gave me a hug. I was shocked for a second, but I quickly hugged her back. Is this usually how people greet each other?

"I'm (Y/N), it's nice to meet you. You're Charles' sister, right?" I asked as she pulled away. She nodded and turned to Charles. 

"The boys are sitting in the kitchen. Can you take (Y/N)'s stuff to their room while I introduce them to everyone else?" She asked him. He nodded and grabbed my suitcases, walking somewhere down the hall. She then turned to Erik. "Are the two of you getting along well?"

Erik scoffed. "Me and Charles or me and (Y/N)? Because me and Charles are getting along swimmingly, but (Y/N) is being a bit dramatic if you ask me."

"Says the man who spent 30 minutes crying because he lost track of some stupid guy." I shot back quickly. Erik's jaw clenched as he gave me a once over, then walked in the same direction that Charles went.

"Well that was rude of him. Anyway, come on, let's go meet the rest of the boys." She said as she grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the kitchen. One boy was standing in front of the sink with a beer in his hand, another one with glasses sitting at the table with a bunch of files in front of him, and a messy brown haired boy digging through the fridge. "Boys, we have a new friend. Introduce yourselves please."

"Alex." The boy with the beer said.

The boy rummaging through the fridge stood up, holding a bottle of water in one hand and waving at me with the other. "I'm Seth."

"I'm Hank, nice to meet you." He gave me an awkward smile.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you all." 

"So, what are your special abilities?" Alex asked as he threw the bottle in the trash.

"Anatomy manipulation. You?" They all looked at me like I was crazy. Did I say something wrong?

"A-Anatomy manipulation? That's a pretty violent thing." Hank said as he pushed his glasses to sit correctly on his nose.

"Yeah, it can get pretty ugly. That's why I don't really like to use them. Hurting people isn't really my style."

"I learned that the hard way." Erik's voice came from behind us. I swear this man gets on my fucking nerves.

"Hey Erik. Did you need something?" Raven asked as she turned around to face him. She is definitely interested in him. 

"I would like to speak to (Y/N) in my room."

"Why would I go anywhere with you. You gonna try and kill me again or something?"

"I promised not to, remember? Now come with me." He grabbed my hand and dragged me to his room, closing the door behind us and locking it. First of all, that's creepy. Second of all he could've given me a chance to walk without him dragging me along like I'm some child.

"What do you want, Erik?" I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I want to apologize. For being an ass. And for anything else I might have done that caused you pain. Will you forgive me?" He said. His words were rushed, he stumbled a little and he seemed out of breath. He must not be used to having to apologize for his actions. Typical.

I stared at him for a moment, switching my focus between his eyes before speaking. "Well I'm not going to say that I forgive you, but I'm glad that you decided to apologize. What made you want to do that?"

"Charles helped me see something that I couldn't see before. Although there's something I need to do to prove his theory."

"And what's that? Be nice to everyone for a day? Well good luck with that because the day that you're nice to people is the day that hell freezes over." 

"Has anyone ever told you that you make things extremely difficult?" Erik asked as he looked down at you. Why did he have to be so tall? 

"No, but then again I've never had to work with someone as stubborn as you."

"Oh I'm the stubborn one? Aren't you the one who refused to leave a bar until the bartender apologized for calling you that horrid word? Then when he finally did mutter out a half assed apology, you still wouldn't leave? Or am I just remembering things incorrectly?" Erik stated, his smile growing bigger at each sentence. I chuckled and shook my head.

"You see, that was different. He called us both slurs, and I wasn't just going to let him get away with that. Plus you know you enjoyed it, you sat there laughing the whole time." I said as I poked him in his chest. 

"I always did love the way you would stand up for what you thought was right." 

"Oh, so you don't hate me? Well there's a shock. You are full of surprises today, aren't you?"

"Why would I hate you? You're the closest thing to a friend I have at the moment."

"If I'm the closest thing you have to a friend, you seriously need to work on your social skills."

"Yeah, Charles said the same thing. Just a lot more complicated, honestly I stopped listening about a minute in. He tends to take the long way of explaining things."

"I think he's just excited to be with other people. He's been alone in this big house with only one other person to talk to. I'd be happy to be around other people too."

"That's fair. So what have you been up to since the last time we talked?" Erik asked as he sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. I sat down and smiled at him.

"You mean since the last time you tried to kill me? Nothing much really. As you see I moved to Atlanta, and I was working at a coffee/book shop. Sometimes I babysit the owner's kids while she goes away for work, and when I'm not at work, I volunteer at the orphanage. Pretty boring stuff if you ask me. How about you? Still chasing after Shaw?" I ask as I look up at him. 

"Of course, he has to pay for what he's done. This is the closest I've gotten to catching him."

"I understand. But what are you gonna do once you finally kill him? Are you gonna move away again?"

"No, I don't think I will. I think I might stay here and help Charles with his plan- even though it sounds utterly insane."

"What plan?" 

"He wants to turn this place into a school for people like us- his preferred term is mutant. He wants to help other people in the way that we never had help."

"That's actually very kind of him." Charles does seem like the kind of guy to put others before himself.

"Yeah, I guess. You should stay too, you've always been more of a people person than I."

"Maybe I will. It'd give me more time to annoy the hell out of you." I said as I nudged his shoulder. He chuckled and nudged me back.

"It's getting late, you should head to bed. It's been a long day." Erik said as he helped me off the bed.

"Yeah, I am getting pretty tired. Thanks for the trip down memory lane."

"Any time. Goodnight (Y/N)." He leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I smiled and waved as I walked away, in search of my new room. Maybe Erik Lehnsherr does have a heart under all those steel walls after all.