#i think he would have shot first and asked questions later

[hopelesswrites]

Double Shot Extra Sweet

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: your restless heart finally settles down when a grumpy man enters your work for his morning coffee.

Note: shes longer, shes got an age gap, shes got potential for more? (Let me know how you feel about this plz)

-

Being the new girl in a workplace wasn’t unnatural for you. You had jumped from job to job for the past year, never being able to settle into one place. You passed it off as a quarter life crisis. Every decision you made seemed to be a result of this crisis, you had moved cities and changed degrees, all because one day after turning 25 you had a hunch you were on the wrong path. A year later and you were in this big new city, on your third cafe job because the other two didn’t vibe with you.

This place however was looking promising. It was a small shop sandwiched between a laundromat and a news stand. The owner Emma was a bubbly older woman with red cat eye glasses and long red acrylics. You learned quite quickly just by the decor of the cafe she was a big fan of cats. Despite the tacky cat shaped clock and the “good meowning” doormat the shop was tastefully designed. It was warm and inviting much like going to your grandmother’s house for tea. The part of the shop you loved the most though was the small free library box out the front. You had taken a small romance book the day you went in for your interview, noting the out of place “theoretical physics” book and a biography on Carl Gauss.

Your first week on the job went by quickly and you seemed to adjust to the clientele easily, most being early morning professionals on their commute to work.

In addition, you quickly decided your co-worker Charlotte would be your new best friend, so after the first rush hour of the morning you both got back to chatting about your lives.

“I swear to god, my brain has been so muddled lately, my classes are so difficult, and I can’t believe I had to ask Mr Wilson 3 times what milk he wanted, I just can’t concentrate its getting concerning” you rambled just as a tall man approached the counter.

“Good morning! What can I get you today?” You spoke happily, noticing the frown etched onto the man’s face. It deepened when he looked around the cafe then back at you.

“Is Lisa not working today?” He asked, ignoring your question. You frowned back at him, noticing how increasingly uncomfortable he was getting.

“I’m sorry, she moved back home to look after her father, but you’ve got me most mornings, I promise I make a good coffee” you encouraged, hoping this man didn’t become your first upset customer at this new job.

He seemed to take a moment to think, eyeing you cautiously before giving you his order. You carefully inputted the order into the till before pulling out a cup.

“Name for the order?” You asked, raking through a list of names you think this guy could possibly have.

Richard? No

Steve? Absolutely not

Lucas? Maybe..

“Spencer”

You raised your eyebrow at him, not what you expected, but it suited him.

“Won’t be too long Spencer” you motioned for him to wait to the side of the counter while you made his coffee. You quietly observed him while you worked. He stood so stiffly, looking around the room as if to look busy. He was older, at least in his late 30s and had the sharpest jawline you think you had ever seen. Somehow, his strong bone structure was softened with fluffy curls framing his face. Honestly, you thought he was gorgeous, if only he loosened the scrunch he seemed to permanently have between his eyebrows.

“Spencer?” You called, sliding his coffee towards him on the counter. His head snapped towards you, frown not slipping as he reached out for it. You watched him inspect the cup, you made sure the lid was on tight, no spills. He took a tentative sip, you can practically see the cogs turning in his head, deciding if you were worthy of the job, making his morning coffee.

“Good?” You asked, suddenly a wave of nerves washing over you.

Spencer looked at you, and you swear you saw the line between his brows twitch and the corners of his lips turn up a tad.

“Yeah good, thanks” he answered before leaving.

For the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about Spencer. You had a deep desire to know everything about him, but in the same thought, you loved the mystery, it almost made him hotter.

He looked bookish, his old man cardigan giving him an English teacher vibe, but he had this look in his eyes that told you he didn’t spend all day talking about Shakespeare. You also noted his need for routine, your presence this morning obviously throwing him off. You hoped you had proven yourself worthy of being a part of his routine though, because you could get used to him being a part of yours.

-

The following day Spencer returned, instead of a cardigan he had on a brown blazer, one of those ones with the patches on the elbows, it was a cute look you thought.

As you suspected, Spencer was all business, sticking to his routine, same coffee order, stood in the same spot to the side of the counter, you were sure he even looked around the room in the same methodical way he did the day before.

You called his name out, he took a sip, he told you it was good and then he left.

This went on for the rest of your week, and it was this daily interaction that had you deciding you were in the right job finally. You woke up and were finally excited to go to work, you just wanted to see that grumpy older man.

Naturally, you started to romanticise the interactions, you were just a girl after all, a hopeless romantic who lived vicariously through the couples in romance novels. You could already picture the ao3 tags if this were a fanfiction. #agegapromance #grumpymmc #cafemeetcute.

The first day Spencer didn’t show up was the following Wednesday, and you declared it the worst day of your life. In fact, your headache returned the second the clock ticked 8am and your favourite grumpy troubled English teacher hadn’t walked through the door. You held your breath for another 10 minutes, maybe he was running late, and he would rush in hair dishevelled, tie askew, face flushed. But you were left disappointed for the rest of your day.

Thursday was much the same, in fact, Thursday had you writing up your resignation letter in your head, clearly this job wasn’t right for you.

Come Friday you were well and truly ready to admit yourself into the emergency room. Your headache was almost excruciating, you couldn’t muster a single smile for your customers. So, when it was well past 9am, the morning work commuters were at their respective jobs and the door chimed your frown stuck in place, you barely looked up when the customer walked up to the counter.

“Are you still getting that headache?” The man spoke, snapping you back into reality.

“Excuse me?” You looked up at Spencer, eyes wide. He was here, and your life had purpose again!

“You said you were getting headaches last week and you look in pain, I thought maybe you were still getting them”

You barely acknowledged the fact that Spencer had been listening to your conversation with Charlotte or that he could tell you were actively fighting a headache right then, all you could think about was he was here, in the softest looking sweater vest, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked incredible, a real life angel.

“Probably just not drinking enough water” you brush it off, pulling out a cup from your stack and writing Spencers order on the side.

“Headaches can also be caused by lifestyle choices, high stress and anxiety, bad diet and even posture” Spencer explained. This was the most you’d ever heard him speak. His voice was like velvet, you thought if he was one of your college professors you would have no trouble learning your course content.

“Is my posture bad?” You asked suddenly insecure, pulling your shoulders back a bit on instinct.

“Not the worst, but if you’re studying and hunched over a desk all day that could cause your headaches”

You didn’t know how to explain your headache had suddenly disappeared in his return and it was obviously psychological, so you nodded in agreement.

Still, curious, you wanted to prod for more information on his whereabouts, his addition to your routine becoming increasingly important to you.

“Where have you been all week? I was starting your think you found another barista”

Spencer looked up at you, eyes wide at the continuation of conversation, obviously assuming your exchange would end at the headaches.

“I sometimes have to go away for work”

Curious, you thought. What English teacher travels for work? Maybe he was a guest lecturer at universities.

“I’ve been trying to guess what you do for work” you chuckle while you popped the lid on his drink.

“And? What have you come up with?”

You take a moment to consider your answer. “One guess a day, no hints. My original thought was English teacher, you look studious”

A small smile crept its way onto Spencers face. He took the drink straight from your hand this time. “Not an English teacher, better luck next week”

Spencer had long left the cafe before it hit you, he knew your work schedule. He knew you didn’t work weekends.

Those 2 days off were excruciating. You couldn’t wait to see Spencer Monday morning. You had so many ideas in your head. He seemed to know about headaches which had you thinking about what medical professionals travel for work.

When Spencer returned you wasted no time. “Do I get to know what circumstances you’re travelling for?”

Spencer smirked, “you’re the one that said no hints”

You huffed in annoyance but continued your routine in making Spencers drink. “Fine, brain surgeon”

Spencer scoffed, “not a brain surgeon, no”

You shrugged your shoulders, “maybe you’re a highly awarded brain surgeon and have to travel to different hospitals to perform high risk operations” you felt the need to justify your decision. Spencer smiled at you, “no it’s a good guess”

Tuesday you tried for architect, which puzzled Spencer, you had to explain he gave off a prestigious aura, “you look like you could measure walls with just your eyes” you told him.

“I am very good with numbers” he replied. You had to scold him for giving you an unwarranted hint but kept numbers in mind.

The rest of the week was the same. “Engineer” “no” “data analyst” “no”. you were getting frustrated, and you felt no closer to knowing Spencer than you were that first day.

The following Monday you spotted Spencer outside the cafe, he had stopped at the library box. You watched him put a book in and take one out, stuffing it under his arm before entering the store. You recognised the book immediately; it was an old textbook of yours that you had bought for your course. You only donated it to the library because you had bought the latest edition and didn’t need that one anymore.

“I didn’t take you for an archaeology kind of guy” you joked, pointing at the book.

“I find it fascinating actually, the study of archaeological context has aided in solving many cold case murders”

“I know, it’s my book, I’m studying forensic archaeology” you laughed. Spencer quirked a brow, “how are you enjoying it?”

“It’s fun actually, I like that I feel like I’m actually going to make a difference with my career one day”

Spencer nodded along, obviously wanting to say something else but bites his tongue. “You haven’t had your guess today”

You rolled your eyes, already getting fed up with your own game. You were about to make your guess when Spencers phone chimed. He pulled it out of his coat and frowned at the screen, the first frown you’d seen from him since that first week.

“I’m sorry, I have to go” Spencer rushed, taking his drink from you. “I’ll be away for a couple days, by the way” He gave you a sad smile, “keep working on your guess, I know you’ll figure it out” and then he was gone.

Your world felt like it slowed right down, and you had been forced back to reality. The rest of the week dragging on. Work, no Spencer, late night lectures, sleep, repeat. Come Saturday Charlotte had decided you were going out clubbing to forget “that nerdy dilf” as she put it. You had to explain to her that the ‘nerdy dilf’ was actually a super complex and interesting man who you were growing very fond of seeing every day. This didn’t help your case, and she declared you needed “dick your own age”

Safe to say you were not excited to go out.

The club was one of the bigger venues in town, one of those places with booths you could hire out and bottle service, not exactly your crowd. Charlotte on the other hand was having a blast and had found a group of guys to flirt with. They had their own booth right by the door, you saw them as you walked in, they were observing the room like a bunch of creeps hunting for prey. Carmen seemed to be the ringleader and found a keen interest in Charlotte, his friend Jesse deciding to take on the challenge of flirting with you. There was one other guy who had a girl you didn’t know latched to his hip, Charlotte said her name was Angela, she was clearly wasted and could barely stand, but seemed comfortable enough with the guys, you assumed they knew each other.

The night seemed to drag on and Jesse seemed to get increasingly pushy. You were ready to leave and excused yourself to grab Charlotte, you watched as Carmen noticed you approaching the two and gestured towards Jesse who was close behind you. Before you realised what was happening you were being grabbed from around the waist and dragged over to the door. The man with Angela was already by the door and you watched him disappear into the street with her cluelessly following.

“What are you doing?” You struggled in Jesses grip, looking over to Charlotte for help, she had her head on Carmens chest struggling to keep her eyes open.

It suddenly hit you, were you being kidnapped right now?

You screamed, not caring how big of a scene you caused before a hand was pressed firmly to your mouth. You continued to struggle as you were dragged away, no one seeming to notice. You reached out for Charlotte, just about reaching her shoulder with your fingertips as she was guided out behind you.

Your looked around hoping someone, anyone would notice when a loud voice screamed “Hey!” in your direction. A man rushed over and began to scream, pulling Jesse aside, his grip loosening on you allowing you to slip out of his arms.

“What are you doing with those girls?” The man yelled over the music, causing a couple more heads to turn. You rushed over to Charlotte, but Carmen pulled out a gun, facing it at your head.

More voices echoed around the room as security guards surrounded you.

“Let me go man” Jesse tried to get away, but the original man pinned him to the wall.

Before anyone else could make a move Carmens arm redirected its aim, and one shot fired straight above your head towards the man who had Jesse. Another shot went off as a guard tried to pull Charlotte away, this one was closer to your ear and a ringing echoed through your head. You felt something wet hit your face, but shock had completely set in. There was more commotion before both men ran out of the venue, leaving you and Charlotte standing there.

You don’t remember moving but at some point, you were guided back into the club and into a back room, a manager’s office. A woman crouched down in front of you and began to speak but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying. You had never witnessed a shooting before, you’d never seen someone die before. You knew the guard that was beside you had died, you figured that out when you touched your face and realised it was his blood splattered across your cheek.

A nudge to the arm pulled you out of your daze and you looked over at your friend. “The lady says we need to stay and speak to some FBI agents, okay?” You could only manage a weak nod.

You don’t know how long it took but the door to the office opened and in walked two pairs of feet. You didn’t bother looking up, but you knew these were the agents you had to give your statement to. You wondered how serious this had been for the FBI to be involved.

The man with black leather shoes on approached Charlotte and began to speak, you weren’t listening, but you watched as he guided her out of the room. The other man stood in front of you his voice sending blood rushing up to your ears, you knew that voice.

He crouched down, resting a hand gently on your knee and looked up into your eyes.

Spencer.

He had on a navy blue button up shirt with a navy vest strapped to his torse, big letters reading FBI over his chest. His hair was as fluffy as always and he had that crease between his eyebrows again, a stern but sad look on his face.

“Hey, you” He spoke softly once you confirmed your recognition in the form of a struggled smile. All your emotions washed over you at once and the tears began to fall freely down your cheeks.

Spencer squeezed your knee rubbing his thumb soothingly in a back-and-forth motion. “You’re okay, you’re okay” He whispered taking his other hand and swiping away tears that were only replaced by more.

“I would have never guessed FBI” was all you could think to say, overwhelmed with the entire situation. Here you were after almost being kidnapped and the FBI agent gently rubbing your knee and swiping away tears was your ‘nerdy dilf’ work crush!?

Spencer let out a small laugh, “are you crying because you couldn’t guess my job?”

You laughed back, “no I’m crying because I was almost kidnapped tonight”

Spencers face went serious again, “I’m sorry, I do have to ask you a few questions about that, is that okay?” You nodded your head and allowed Spencer to sit beside you. He reached over for something and returned with a wet rag, gently wiping away the blood from your face while he asked you his questions.

The moment was so tender you wished it hadn’t been tainted by the memory of the men from earlier. Spencer asked you what time you got to the club, what you remembered seeing when you entered, what you knew about the men and what you knew about Angela.

“Are you going to get Angela back?” You asked once he had finished, feeling more childlike than every under his stare.

“We’re going to try, I promise I will get those men though”

You trusted him, Spencer didn’t seem like the type of person to make promises lightly. There was a darkness in the way he said it, like he was haunted by every promise from his past he couldn’t keep.

The other agent returned with Charlotte and pulled Spencer aside to talk. You watched and waited for your next instruction as Spencer returned back to you. “I’m going to have Officer Berkley drive you both home, another Officer will be stationed outside both your apartments in case these men are stalking you” Spencer shot off orders in that stern tone he used when you first met him. You felt ashamed of the thoughts running through your head at this time, and a quick glance from Charlotte let you know she knew exactly what was on your mind.

He was just so hot.

English teacher was sexy, but this? This was insanity.

Before you were escorted outside Spencer pulled you aside slipping a card in your hand. “Call me if there’s any issues, okay?” He gave your hand a quick squeeze before strutting out of the room in search for his partner.

-

Sunday dragged on, you watched your window anxiously, making sure the officer in charge of protecting you was still there. You and Charlotte had both taken the Monday off work, being advised to stay in your homes until they caught the men. All you wanted was to know what was going on. Spencer wouldn’t tell you anything that Saturday night and neither would the officer who drove you home. You wondered how Angela was, had they killed her? How many other women had they kidnapped?

Monday night you were just about to get into bed when a knock at your door interrupted your nightly routine. Your heart felt like it stopped, what if it was one of them. A quick glance out your window had your worries increasing, the officer wasn’t in his car.

“Miss, are you in there” You heard his voice from outside, followed by another knock.

You opened the door to see the man assigned to your protection.

“Feds caught the guys; I’m just letting you know you’re safe and that I’m heading home” He looked tired, and you began to feel bad for the job he had to do.

Once he had left you quickly shot Charlotte a quick text to make sure she was okay and went back to bed. In bed your eyes were locked on the little card you had placed on your bedside table the night before. Spencer told you to call in case of an emergency, but you needed to know if he was okay. He had been out there tracking down the men that tried to kidnap you, men that were violent and had already shot two other people, what if he got hurt?

Before you could think too much about your decision you pulled your phone out and dialled the number, clicking call immediately so you wouldn’t psych yourself out of it. The phone rung and your heart pounded heavier and heavier with each second that passed.

“Dr Spencer Reid speaking” That sweet voice echoed through the speaker. He sounded softer over the phone; you wondered if he was home now and also in bed.

“Hello?” He spoke again, pulling you out of your daze.

“Spencer” You answered, suddenly lost for words.  

Spencer repeated your name back to you, “We arrested those men, Angela is safe”

“I know, the officer told me, are you okay?”

There was a silence before Spencer answered, “I’m fine, why do you ask?”

“Those men were dangerous, I was worried”

Spencer let out a breathy chuckle, “I’m fine, thank you for checking up on me” another beat of silence. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am now” hearing his voice had instantly calmed you, and you finally felt tired enough to sleep.

“You should get some rest, ill see you tomorrow?”

Your heart fluttered, “Yeah, see you tomorrow Spencer” You hung up the phone, smiling ear to ear, if Charlotte could see you right now, she would absolutely tease you to no end. But you were too happy to care, you were safe, you loved your new job, you love your degree and you got to see Spencer, your very sexy FBI agent nerdy dilf every morning.

[asheyxash]

i love you, i'm sorry

pairing: idol seungkwan x reader troupe: exes to lovers again, second chance genre(s): angst (if you squint your eyes), comfort, fluff warning(s): minor swearing/cursing word count: ~2.8k

summary: seungkwan somehow convinces her to talk. she reluctantly agrees, thinking it would lead to yet another argument but it doesn't. in fact, it leads to something she thought she would never experience after her break up- having a boyfriend again.

pt 2 of seungkwan short series, read pt1, "i miss you, i'm sorry" here!

work all mine, no reposting without creds, no stealing of published work, copyrighted:D

you stared at the cafe's glass door, waiting for the cute little orange bell to chime. it was supposed to be a day off for you, but today you felt more nervous and stressed than ever. somehow, fast forward three months later, you had healed almost completely, and just as you were living the life you had always dreamed of, you received an anonymous message asking whether you were down for a chat, and your mind clicked-it was seungkwan, wasn't it? but considering how the last time you two had met had gone awfully wrong, you wanted to make up for it, hoping you could apologise for well, saying all that. you admitted half of it wasn't necessary but you felt like a burden had been lifted off your chest after pouring out all your feelings in a rant. so, you texted him back, saying you would consider it. you really didn't want something to happen like the past, and you were scared that it would lead to yet another argument, just like what had happened before.

you stared continuously at the message from an unknown number. "hey, it's me, wow it's been a while. are you willing to talk? i know it's kinda weird but i swear i'm not mad at you, i really just want to know what you were going through while i was being so...distant. if you're comfortable with it, maybe we could schedule a chat sometime at your cafe i understand completely if you're still not ready and sorry to message you all of a sudden." when you first received the message, you heart was pounding as thoughts echoed through your mind- would it be a good idea to meet your ex three months later? what would we even be talking about? so you replied carefully, "oh, yeah it has been a while. sorry but could i think about it for a while?" all that came as a reply was an "of course". you were stuck between a dilemma- perhaps you could get answers to your own questions like what he wanted, why did your relationship start to fall apart? why did you two never hang around together anymore? what exactly happened? you wanted to know too, considering how you just left. yet another part of you was concerned, worried even, that you would go through another argument, and you would have to live through the painful memories you had finally kept at bay once again.

"whatcha looking at noona?" you rolled your eyes, a voice so familiar as you turned around, clutching your phone tightly to your chest, "yah don't scare me!" sunoo, your employee and an amazing barista for the cafe came running over. as soon as he saw you gripping onto your phone like you were hiding something, he wiggled his eyebrows, "y/n, do you have a new boyfriend?" "what? no!" you exclaimed, as the two of you began fighting over your phone. "then what is so secretive you can't share with your favourite employee?" he grumbled as you chuckled, "first of all sunoo, i am not dating anyone geez, and secondly, you are not my favourite employee." he shot daggers through his eyes as you shrugged.

"boo!" suddenly he scared you, as you flinched and he took this moment to snatch your phone. you were in a daze to even realise this- boo, a nickname you had created for seungkwan. "y/n? y/n! hello? get out of your lovey dovey land and tell me who this is that wants to meet up with you!" his irritating voice snapped you back to reality as you grabbed your phone back from his hands, causing a hey from the younger. "he's no...one. i have to go for a meeting." you mumbled something and sprinted to your office but he was faster. "bro, what are you on? girl it's literally saturday, isn't that your off day?" sunoo asked as you gave up, "whatever sunoo he's the guy you saw last time, seungkwan...my ex."

"oh." was all you heard as you looked at the boy who now plastered a cheeky, mischievous expression. "what?" you asked, confused. "oh so that's why you were trying to hide from me! have you made up? are you going to talk to him?" a burst of questions rang through your mind from a overly curious sunoo as you laughed, "woah chill there buddy, i don't know if i should agree to see him. after all, the last time we met, i..." "you ended up crying buckets of tears in my arms HA!" before i could even finish my sentence, sunoo beat me to it, wiping fake tears from his eyes as i gave him a playful shove, "shut up."

"no but i think you should see him." suddenly, he turned serious, making direct contact into your eyes. "what?" you asked, perplexed. "i'm saying, if he won't give up on you, he's a good one. trust me i know but if he does end up as a jerk, i'll spill ice cold americano on him, how does that sound?"

"right..." you responded, not really listening after sunoo mentioned ice americano. that was seungkwan's favourite, and you knew his order by heart. thus, while adding that to your menu, you included a little orange slice on top. most of your customers found it strange but intriguing, rarely eating the orange slice but you knew you created it with a purpose. in fact, a bunch of things from your cafe, heaven's cloud, was inspired by him, yet no one would ever know, no, not even the gossipy sunoo would know, that it was because of him that you opened your dream cafe. that is was because of him that you chased your dreams, that it was because of him that you worked tirelessly at your previous office job, to save up to open a cafe, that it was because of your ex boyfriend seungkwan, that you were living the life you had always wanted since young.

"noonaaaaa are you thereeee?" sunoo's boisterous voice finally brought you back as you replied, "yeah, yeah you know what? you're right. i'll agree." he smirked, "if you get back a boyfriend, i get leave for a whole week!" "not happening!" you replied , raising an eyebrow as he ran off. sometimes this kid was a handful to deal with, but you could let it go this time, because sunoo's words were just what you needed to type into your phone, "actually, i'm down."

and so you were waiting, waiting for the clock to strike 11. you were getting frustrated as the minutes passed by, if he wanted to so desperately talk to you, why the hell wasn't he here? this was the exact problem you faced when you two were still a thing. he would come home so late and sometimes, he wouldn't even show up at all. the worst thing? you wouldn't know of it until the next morning because he would never bother to tell you. just as you thought he was going to stand you up, the all too familiar sound of the orange bell ringing jerked you up instantly, and you looked up to the sight of a 5'10'' tall man rushing into the cafe. you took a deep breath, if you were doing this, you were doing this today.

"hey i'm so sorry i'm late, i was getting you something." seungkwan's words came out in a jumble as he took out a bouquet of tulips, your favourite. "seungkwan oh my god, you didn't have to do this." you breathed, giving him a smile as you graciously accepted the flowers, making a note to put them on the counter later. "i know, but i wanted to, you know, as a gift." he replied, scratching the back of his head as he sat opposite you. "that's very thoughtful of you seungkwan, thank you." you smiled, before changing the subject, "so, what did you want to talk to me about?" he monitored the way you spoke, so confidently yet the nervousness in your eyes betrayed your steady gaze.

"how are you doing these days?" he asked, showing genuine interest. "i'm doing fine, the cafe's doing well, i recently added a few things to the menu, a butterfly pea crust in gradient blue purple that dissolves as you touch it, revealing a butterfly jelly inside made of blueberries and also a chocolate mousse cake that's in a shape of a literally mouse, and my personal favourite, the orange blast, a citrus filled tart that gives customers a surprise when they dig into it! orange pulp and tropical fruits spill out from the freshly made tart, and something special about this is that every day, i hide 10 slips of coupon papers in ten random tarts, something like a fortune cookie, and whoever gets it can come to my employees to claim a free drink!" you started rambling, your eyes sparkling with passion as he chuckled. seungkwan always loved when you were so passionate about something, but his chuckle only made you realise just how much you had started talking about the cafe, "oh i'm so sorry, i got carried away uhm..." however, before you could continue, he blurted out, "no it's fine, i love seeing you talk about your cafe!" you felt your cheeks heating slightly, but truth was that seungkwan did in fact, loved that part of you- he loved how you could go on for hours about something you truly loved, and that was one of the things about you that led him to fall in love.

"oh, okay. how about you?" you asked shyly, as he responded, "i'm doing fine, practice is tough at times, but i'll manage." you gave him a soft smile, "so, about what you came here for..." you paused, waiting for him to continue, "right, so, it's been a while since we broke up and before you continue, let me just tell you everything i wanted to say but couldn't." the both of you breathed in, as you anticipated on what he had to say.

"um the truth? after you left, i did realise what an ass i had been to you. yeah, i realised just how badly i treated you, compared to the start of our relationship. i realised just how often i would come home past midnight, and how i would always be busy when you wanted to spend time with me. i took our relationship for granted, and a small part of me will always hate myself for doing that...i know why you left, and i'm not even mad, because...because you left because i wasn't acting like your boyfriend. i...i..." he broke down in sobs as you felt tears pricking the corners of your own eyelids. "i wanted to tell you just how sorry i am, you might never forgive me, and i'll respect that, but, but...i want you to know i do regret it, every day and night i do, because i promise y/n, i never once stopped loving you. i really am sorry." he continued, his voice softer as tears rolled down his cheeks. you sat there, shocked, trying to process everything you had just heard.

"oh seungkwan..." he sniffed and looked at you, "yeah?"

"i guess i'm doing this too. seungkwan, it hurt me, a lot, and i'm sure you know it did. it hurt me to know you were too busy for me, putting your career over me but that is exactly why i gave you up, for your dream job. when we started dating, you always told me how nice it would be to roam the world through world tours, meeting carats from all across the globe, being a world class singer, and now look at you. you should be proud seungkwan, i'm insanely proud of you, of seventeen, of everything you all have achieved. i'm so sorry for ending things, i'm so fucking sorry. i hurt you a lot by leaving without saying anything, didn't i? i want you to know i never stopped loving you either, i broke down in front of my friends after i walked out that door that day. i love you, i'm sorry." your voice was trembling, as you stood up, refusing to make eye contact with your ex. "you're, you're proud of me?" he gulped, swallowing a lump of bile rising in his throat as you nodded. he let down more tears of what seemed to be a mix of sadness, gratitude and relief, "y/n...don't be sorry, yes it hurt but you did it because of me. wait, did you just say you love me?" his voice grew softer as your cheeks burned red.

"seungkwan, i, i never once lost feelings for you. i've always loved you, and i still do..." you mumbled softly, your lips quavering as he also stood up, the both of you now directly facing each other. "oh my god, oh my god y/n...i love you too you know? i always have..." he reached his arms out, and you slowly stepped into them as he wrapped them around you. "i can't, can't believe this... i tried finding you y/n, i did." seungkwan's voice was croaky as you let him hug you, "yeah, yeah i know. i'm so sorry for trying to run away, i thought i had moved on, but my heart refused to let you go, then i realised, i just can't run away... i'm so sorry." he cradled you in his arms, wiping your tears with his hoodie's sleeve, "ssh, y/n, don't cry, i'm here now, and that's all that matters." his warmth felt amazing as you let everything out to him. he was back, you were back, you two were back. "so, what are we?" you asked after a moment's silence of just hugging each other.

"well, may i do the honours y/n?" he cleared his throat and pulled you towards him till his arms wrapped around your waist and his voice travelled down your ears, sending down chills from how attractive it was, "you have always been the one who was there for me, cheering for me whenever seventeen got to greater heights. you were the one for me, always proud of me, always ready to make me smile, to make me happy, and for the first time in my life, i felt like my life was perfect. then, one day it all came crashing down, and my life was never the same without you y/n, and that was when i realised just how much i needed you. so, will you, ms y/n, founder of heaven's cloud and my once ex girlfriend, be willing to give me a second chance?" you replied right away, "no." he looked stunned, but you broke into a wide smile, "just kidding, come here", and so, the two of you looked at each other deep into the eyes, as you whispered, "boo..." "yes, my love, my girlfriend and my better half?" his angelic voice melted in the once tension filled air as you giggled, "kiss me." "tsk, so demanding, how can i kiss you since you said no to being my girlfriend just now?" he asked cheekily, as you playfully smacked his head, "boo seungkwan, i swear if you don't kiss me right now-"

his lips crashed onto yours, the feeling you had been craving for finally here. you eagerly kissed him back, making sure he knew you were serious about him, claiming him as yours. he held you tight, never letting go as you landed a rain of kisses of his cheeks, making him blush a pinkish red.

"i knew you still loved me, like look at your cafe, it's literally a cafe for me!" seungkwan's voice rang as he squeezed you so tight. you rolled your eyes, the sassy seungkwan was back, the seungkwan you knew, the seungkwan that was now yours. "yah boo seungkwan, i'm your girlfriend now and you want to talk to me like that? knew i should have said no" you replied with the same amount of sassiness, flipping your hair. "what no!" he replied, chasing you as you tried to escape from his grip.

just then, sunoo came running from out of nowhere, blocking your way from escape as seungkwan caught up to you, "ya what are you doing here? you're not supposed to be here!"

"I knew it! i said that if you got a boyfriend again i get leave for the whole of next week!" he jumped in glee as you shook your head, "in your dreams!" he pouted, pointing to seungkwan who looked amused at your interactions with sunoo. "me?" seungkwan asked, bewildered. "yeah, aren't you going to say anything to help me out here?" sunoo asked as you raised an eyebrow. "uhh babe, maybe just let him get off work for once?" he replied slowly, eyeing you. you scoffed, "fine! since you think it's such a good idea for sunoo to go rest, why don't you join him?" "huh? "what?" seungkwan and sunoo asked, as realisation slowly dawned on them. you smirked and strutted off, ignoring the two male's whining, as you could hear the faint voice of your boyfriend calling from behind you, "babe i love you, i'm sorry!"

[spiritsglade]

thinking about how jason was disappointed by earth-51 bruce again. even though earth-51 was literally a utopia paradise all evil is dead the sun is shining the heroes are retired and living out happy lives. even though earth-51 bruce did exactly and precisely the act that jason wanted expected and needed his own bruce to do. earth-51 bruce killed the joker (with a gun!! good for him) and eradicated all evil and the world was demonstrably a better place for it.

and jason sees this bruce. this cold man who has shut everyone out. who is willing to prioritize winning over preserving human life. here he is jason. everything you've ever wanted. and jason reacts with disgust.

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men React a Picture of You with Another guy

Request: Hii!! I love your writing so so much (pls never stop)!!! How do you think the lads men would react to the following scenario: mc makes one of her girl friends dress like a guy and post that on her story/moments (to ward off an annoying co-worker, like what Caleb did in uni, but mc didnt want to bother the guys with this request so she asked Tara or another one of her girl friends). The picture, though, is convincing enough to make even the lads men question if she actually does have a partner and who tf is he. I think Xavier would absolutely malfunction since they are also neighbours lol

AN: I am taking a break from the ship event to gather some inspiration. But this was super fun to write. Thank you for sending in such an amazing idea.

Warning: Potential Spoilers. Be Mindful 👺

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff and angst

(I do not own these characters)

Summary: Waking up after an amazing girls' night, you and Tara spent the morning taking silly photos, making all kinds of concerning faces, until inspiration struck.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Tara grinned, pushing her short hair back. "What if—"

Moments later, you were both giggling uncontrollably, staging fake hard launch photos in your bed. The blurry, cozy results? Surprisingly convincing.

"Oh, this is gonna blow up at work."

Tara rested her chin on your neck, wrapping an arm around you for the final shot. The picture was better than you imagined, so naturally, you posted it to your story before the two of you rushed to get ready for work.

And just like that, your social media went up in flames.

Rafayel:

623 missed calls. 200 texts. 82 more missed calls.

All hours after your post.

Who is he? Why are you in bed with him? Is he your boyfriend? What is his name?

You barely have time to breathe after your meeting before the onslaught of texts floods in. Even the comment section of your post hasn’t been spared.

Thomas is already on the case. Rafayel is whining, sobbing, crying and absolutely not afraid to play dirty to get you back.

He's already planned a hundred ways to nip this budding romance at the root.

He thinks he has the upper hand, feels kinda smug about it too.

Still… there’s a twinge of heartbreak. A little ache for having to wait longer for you, for the idea that you might have chosen someone else. But if nothing else, Rafayel is persistent.

So, of course, he’s already forgiven you.

But don’t think, even for a second, that he won’t complain about it.

He’s still mulling over it, dramatically painting all his canvases black, getting ready for his villain arc, when you finally call him back.

"A prank?"

He is indignant.

He cried over a prank.

All that effort… for nothing.

"IT’S BEEN 800 YEARS. JELLYFISH ARE WALKING. NAKED SEA TURTLES ARE CLIMBING TREES. SHARKS ARE EATING GRASS—FOR FREE. "

AND RAFAYEL?

RAFAYEL CRIED OVER A PRANK.

HE WENT FULL VILLAIN ARC FOR A LIE.

HIS CANVASES ARE BLACK. HIS PLANS FOR REVENGE? RUINED.

ALL BECAUSE YOU AND TARA WANTED TO PLAY GAMES.

He might never recover. Might. But first, he needs to call Thomas back before his "investigation" starts a national crisis.

Xavier:

He had just returned from a long night of fighting Wanderers when his phone chimed with an alert.

Half-asleep, he smiled at the sight of your name, already thinking of how he'd respond once he changed and collapsed into bed.

That smile froze the moment he saw the picture.

The phone slipped from his fingers, landing on his face. But he didn’t even wince. Too numb to feel it.

His vision blurred. His chest ached. Tears welled, unbidden.

Genuinely heartbroken. So weary. So tired. For a moment, he was shattered.

Did he have the strength to wager another lifetime?

His time was already running out. His strength faded with each passing day. He had selfishly wanted this spring with you...but this was better for you. You were too kind, too caring to bear his loss.

Perhaps this was for the best. His lips trembled at the thought.

You had someone now, someone who would not bring you grief. And you looked so happy in that photo. He stared at the blurred curve of your smile, tracing it with his gaze.

Somehow, he managed a small smile too.

And then he folded into himself. And slept.

For days.

So long that you started to worry, noticing his absence at work.

Until, finally, you barge into his apartment, breathless and frantic, only to find him asleep, moonlight spilling across his face, eerily still.

Your heart plummeted.

"Xavier." Your voice trembled as you rushed to him, fingers shaking as you took his hand.

For a terrible, suffocating second, he didn’t move.

And then, his brow twitched.

Air rushed back into your lungs.

Zayne:

This was to be expected.

He was never what you needed.

He often failed at words. His gestures, too vague to be understood.

You deserved someone who loved you. Someone who had the courage to say those words out loud.

Not him.

Not someone who could hurt you. His scars only grow deeper with time.

So he accepts it. Buries himself in work.

If he could not be your lover, then he would play his part as a friend.

Pays extra attention to your health. Pours over your reports. He must. Because he is no longer close enough to watch over you himself.

And weeks later, when you finally visit him, he keeps up the act—cold, distant, unbothered.

He does all the tests. Runs all the checks. Everything is routine.

But you see it.

The dark circles, deeper than ever. His skin, paler. Cheeks, sunken. His shirt, unwashed.

"You're coming home with me."

Your voice leaves no room for argument as you take his hand. "You never call. You only text about my reports and nothing more. We need to talk."

You tug him forward. He follows, until he stops.

"Your boyfriend won’t like it," he murmurs, staring anywhere but at you.

Silence.

"What boyfriend?"

You blink at him, dumbfounded.

Sylus:

Sylus spits his coffee, choking as he stares at the pictures.

Does not buy it.

That’s clearly not a man.

Yet somehow, he keeps going back to it, again and again.

It’s only when Luke and Kieran peer over his shoulder that his denial starts cracking.

"Ooooh, boss has got competition," Luke chimes.

One minute, they’re laughing. The next, they’re outside the mansion, the door slamming shut behind them.

Luke blinks. "That explains..."

Kieran yanks him into a chokehold for getting them banished for the day.

Inside, Sylus switches to wine.

The day has been too much.

Not a man, right? he muses, scrutinizing the photo, before accidentally pressing the heart button.

And then, he all but chews the glass in his hand.

He’s not worried.

He just suddenly feels the urge to burn his entire closet because nothing looks good enough.

He doesn’t care.

He’s just made a few calls, just to make sure you’re not involved with anyone sketchy. Unless, of course, it’s him.

Then, like an absolute idiot, he gets a panicked call from an associate.

The only person who’s been in your apartment? Tara.

Sylus stares at the image. Facepalms.

That evening, when he picks you up from work, he looks exhausted.

As if a few hours have aged him years.

When you ask, he waves you off, dodging every question.

You raise a brow. "Are you sure? You look—"

"I said it’s nothing," he snaps, before sighing, dragging a hand down his face. "...Can we just go home

Caleb:

Storming to Linkon.

Geared up to blow up the entire apartment complex.

Spends five minutes struggling with the locked door before finally getting it open.

Marches in.

Stops. Sighs in disapproval at your empty fridge.

Good thing he packed snacks. Leaves them on your counter. You’ll thank him later.

Then, back to the mission.

Collects all forensic evidence needed. Marches out.

No time to waste.

Supervises the DNA administration.

Hair sample. Used coffee mug. Both next to yours.

He will find the bastard. He will take him out.

And then, he will whisk you away to Skyheaven, to console you once you learn of your tragic, mysterious loss.

Grief will bring you closer.

Every intern running tests is sweating.

So are the lead scientists, who have been personally forced to oversee this insanity.

No one is messing with the colonel today.

And then, finally, the results land on his desk.

Caleb stares. Dumbfounded.

Is he to fight both men and women for you now?

You better watch out for Tara because he does not discriminate.

[oceantornadoo]

Could you maybe write a fic for Simon pursuing a reader who has no experience despite being in her early 20s?

(disclaimer: this ask said early 20s but i didn't really focus on that exact age for reality and inclusivity purposes)

you like to think you're a pretty calm person. have to be, for the kind of work you do - can't be a hothead when you're dealing with hundreds of other hotheads (a.k.a. military men). that environment, seeing the vicious effects of too much testosterone and loyalty to those who don't deserve it, has led you to this predicament. a lack of experience with men. all the ones you've met are loud or self-absorbed and your work is so time-consuming so that when you've found yourself at this precipice, you realize you have no experience to guide you. only a few drunk kisses and one teenage crush to act as the map for the journey you're about to take.

it was odd, how easily you fell into simon riley. he duped you into your first date, calling it a celebratory post-mission dinner when in reality, he'd had the reservations for weeks. it progressed smoothly from there: coffee and ice cream and a scary movie you didn't want to see alone. a few weeks later and you let him into your sacred apartment, a couch no man had ever sat on. he was so respectful, soft words and light touches to get you comfortable with him.

you intrigued simon. it was like befriending a stray cat; one wrong move and he'd be out in the hall. he'd asked around (a.k.a. asked johnny) and found out you'd never dated anyone on base. not surprising, he hadn't either, but your skittish nature led him to believe you'd never dated anybody. you were comfortable with men, sure, but you'd never made any moves on simon despite seeming to like him so much. if he were a less confident man, he would think you weren't interested, but it was in the way your eyes lingered on him, the glances you shot him when you thought he wasn't looking. he decided a conversation was necessary to clear the air so he didn't keep handling you like a bomb that could go off any second.

the two of you were watching footie, a bowl of popcorn in the middle. your hands brushed occasionally as you ate, your knee touching his, but nothing further. simon was well practiced in restraint, and he would wait as long as he needed to, but he felt like he was operating blind, no night vision goggles in sight. "love." it was like flipping a switch. you jumped up, snatching the popcorn bowl and murmuring something about supplying a refill even though it was more than halfway full. he let you have your freakout in the kitchen, giving you time to collect your thoughts. finally, you came back ten minutes later, hand shaking slightly as you put the bowl back down, which was decidedly not full. "can i ask you somethin'?" his hand gripped your knee before you could get up again, settling you back on the couch. your eyes were wide, searching his at a rapid speed as you tried to figure out what he was asking.

"w-what?" he started stroking your knee slowly, thumb brushing over the fabric of your sweats. he didn't answer right away, letting the rhythm of his thumb calm you until your shoulders dropped a fraction. "do i scare y'?" he murmured in a low tone. your shoulders dropped completely, your head collapsing on the couch behind you. you figured it was time to have this talk anyways. "no, it's nothing like that. i trust you, si." he nodded, checking a question off his list. his thumb was still stroking you, the motion anchoring you to the moment. "did someone hurt y'? before me?" you shook your head. "no, it's nothing like that. i just-" you cut yourself off, biting your lip. you chanced a glance at simon, his face open and patient. "i just don't have a lot of experience with men. and it makes me nervous, thinking i'll do something wrong." simon nodded in understanding. "'s while y're so jumpy. how much experience?" you muttered your answer too low for him to hear. "wot?" ugh. "none." oh. oh.

simon was rewriting scripts in his head. no experience was not what he was expecting, but it didn't put him off. if anything, he felt honored you picked him to give you experience. "doesn't matter, love. we can go 's slow as you want. just gotta tell me what y' want." your hand covered his on your knee. "i want you, si. i just don't know how to show it." he squeezed your knee. "trust me?" you nodded instantly. suddenly, you were being moved, strong hands around your waist dragging you into simon's lap. he arranged you into a straddle, setting you back on the middle of his thighs. simon didn't want to give you the wrong idea by putting you on his cock so soon. there was time.

"ya ever kiss anyone?" you gave him a small smile. "not sober. none that i really remember." he laughed, the feeling vibrating through his chest down to his thighs. it was exhilarating, being so close to him and not being scared. you were still nervous, sure, but there was less expectation hanging over your head now that you had talked. "c'mere. we'll take it slow. close your eyes." he sat up a little, a hand on your hip preventing you from being jostled. you closed your eyes obediently, lips parting slightly with the exhale of your breath. you could feel his body heat come closer. he brushed his lips against yours, pulled back, and then gave you a real kiss.

you weren't sure what to do. you had listened to enough advice podcasts to know you shouldn't use any tongue, but that was it. his lips were soft, if a bit chapped, pressing against yours deliciously. he felt so close, so intimate, and you pushed back against him, just a little. it melted your heart a little as he pushed back, warm and willing. your hands instinctively dove into his hair, finally feeling those strands you'd been dreaming about. it went on and on, experimenting with little licks and bites as you got more confident. unfortunately, the more passionate you became, the less air in your lungs. you pulled back with a gasp.

"fuck." his lips were swollen and red, his hair sticking up at all angles. ravished. "good?" he asked, licking his lips. you nodded. "can we do it again?" the eagerness would have made you cringe if you didn't want it so much. "yeah, baby, anytime you want. c'mere."

--

i hope i did this justice!! my first kiss was terrible but i was also 14 so i think it would be better with an experienced man lol

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 2

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : the BAU team works the case, you get to help word count : 2.3k warning : canon-typical violence, mention of violence and sexual violence A/N : thank you all so much for all the love on part 1 of this !!! I love getting feedback, it's incredibly motivating ! I will probably do a part 3 :)) Also, my cat is sitting next to me as I write this, which I find quite funny

part 1, part 3, part 4

Back at the police station, Spencer had trouble focusing on the case. His mind kept wandering over to you, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing. He was on edge and the entire team could feel it. Hotch pulled him to the side to ask him if he wanted to give you a phone call. Reid refused, but settled on sending you a text, something he never usually did while working. Something he never usually did because he wasn't the biggest fan of technology and also because he couldn't decipher how you were actually feeling without hearing your voice and all the quirks in the way you spoke which gave away your real feelings.

Sent by Dr. Ironed Socks : < Hey. How are you doing? > Sent by You : < Ok, I'm having a tea on the couch. Geoff is in REM sleep on my lap. Thx for checking <3 >

Your text was followed by a pixelly picture of your slightly overweight (Spencer couldn't use that term to describe Geoffrey around you or you'd get upset) orange cat sprawled out on your lap, legs and arms askew, fast asleep. Spencer felt a small wave of relief spread through him. You were okay for now. Geoffrey was looking after you. Later, he'd help you process and give you all the tools necessary to get over such a traumatic event and move on. It was almost as if that was in his job description.

Returning to the room where the BAU team had settled in, Spencer sent Hotch a grateful nod. Hotch moved his lips in what resembled a small smile, Reid couldn't be sure. "Okay," Garcia's voice resounded from the speaker sitting in the middle of the round table, "I've contacted all of Mary Goldman's professors and it turns out she didn't go to class today. Her first class was at 11:30 but she never showed up." "None of the students we interrogated on campus had seen her after 10:15," Emily spoke up. "Spencer's roommate saw her between 10:30 and 11:00," Rossi intervened. "Okay, we'll get her to come in," Hotch affirmed. Spencer's whole body tensed. You had been the last person to see the victim. His mind was so busy reeling, thinking about everything you'd have to go through as the most promising witness, that he missed Morgan's question.

"Reid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?" "What was the time of death according to the coroner?" "14:30," Rossi answered. "It was 14:26, actually," corrected Reid. Rossi rolled his eyes. "Okay, so the unsub has his victim between around, let's say 11:15, and 14:26," Rossi shot a pointed look at Spencer, "that's about three hours and 11 minutes. In those three hours, he had time to take the victim someplace where neither of them would be seen or heard, beat and sexually assault her, and finally dump her in smack-dab in front of the university." "He's definitely organised and wants to send a message," Emily thought aloud. "But what is he trying to say? Look at what I can do? You can't stop me?" "Friends," interrupted Garcia, "I'm going to need at least some information before I even try to get anything out of a search. He's taking and leaving them on campus, so I'm guessing he doesn't necessarily need a vehicle. Does he live in the area?" "Yes, he's local or knows the area, he knows these women and he most likely knows the campus. Search for white males, early twenties with a record of violence and sexual misconduct. Cross-reference that with victims of reported abuse and sexual abuse in the last twenty five years. Run background checks for all university staff. Also have a look at similar victims and MOs in this area in the last five years. This may not be his first time," spoke Hotch. "On it, I'll get back to you when I've found something." "Thanks, Garcia."

You'd taken a shower as soon as you'd arrived home. The water was too hot and you'd scrubbed your skin too hard but getting out, you felt a slight bit better. Heavily disliking the way you still felt, you opted for a cup of Earl Grey tea with milk and sugar. Settling on the couch with a steaming cup in your hands, you tucked your legs beneath you and sighed.

Images of Mary's dead body were printed onto the inside of your eyelids. You still couldn't believe it. Your mind reeled as you tried to think of an explanation for it all. Whichever path you followed, you came up empty. You could not comprehend or imagine any reason of taking the life of an innocent person, especially in such a violent way. Luckily for you, you still didn't know the extent of the violence.

A familiar noise pulled you from your dark thoughts. Geoffrey had just jumped down from his cat tree. You watched him stretch and languidly walk over to you. He meowed once before jumping onto the couch, right next to you. You moved your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged and scratched his head. He purred in delight and pressed himself against you. He sniffed at your tea with an unimpressed look before climbing into your lap before letting himself flop down on his side, stretching out his appendages. You cooed as his pink toe-beans stretched too and laid a hand on his belly, scratching gently. The vibrations of his purrs had a calming effect on you. "Are you trying to make me forgive you for biting my ankle the other day when I wouldn't give you any more treats? You know Spencer says you're a bit overweight, I was just trying to get him to stop body-shaming you, my love..."

A few minutes later, you get a text from Spencer. About thirty minutes after that, you get a phone call from him. "Hey, would you mind coming to the station? It turns out you're the last person to have seen the victim."

"I'll do the cognitive interview." "Reid, I don't think that's a good idea." "Look, yes I'm invested, I know that. But I also know her and-" "Reid, no. This is the reason we such have procedures." "But I-" "Reid." Hotchner's tone translated finality. Spencer's shoulders sank in defeat. He had figured that if he had been the one conducting the interview, maybe it would have been less traumatic for you. He hated the idea of not being there for you, with you, during such a trying moment. He bit his bottom lip.

"I'll do it," volunteered Morgan. Reid felt slight comfort at that, Morgan was one of the few people he would entrust his life to. He could entrust you to him for the interview, even if he didn't like it. Hotchner nodded. "Reid, you work with Garcia, focus on finding other victims with the same MO to help build the profile." Reid nodded and went to find his colleagues.

When you entered the police station, it was almost like he could feel your presence. He came to find you straight away, not wanting to leave alone even for a second. "Hey." "Hey." Reid immediately pulled you in for a meaningful embrace, burying his face in your hair. The smell of your shampoo, conditionner and body wash were bliss to his nostrils. They were a promise that you were here, you were safe, you were okay. Morgan watched from afar, a small smile playing at his lips. He knew Reid, and the hug you exchanged was both too hasty and too tight to be anything casual. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry to have to make you come in, but they're going to do- well I wanted to do it but they wouldn't let me, so it's-"

A slightly older, very muscular and gentle man stepped forward, holding out his hand to you. You shook it. "I'm Agent Derek Morgan. I'm one of Spencer's colleagues. I'll be the one conducting the interview, seeing as there's a conflict of interest with you and Spencer. I hope you can understand that." You introduced yourself and looked at Spencer before answering Derek. "Yes, I understand, it's- it's not a problem." "Great, if you could just follow me, please?" You licked your lips and sent Spencer a look, which he answers with a nod of reassurance and a small smile, before following Derek.

"You can close your eyes if it makes you more comfortable." You were sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The light above you was ticking at uneven intervals and the room smelt of worry. You didn't know how you could get any more comfortable, but listening to Morgan's even, alto voice helped a bit. "Okay." You closed your eyes. "You told Agent Rossi that you crossed the victim somewhere around quarter to eleven. Is that correct?" "Uh, yes." "Where did you cross her?" "In the main hall." "Where were you going?" "Um, I had just been to the bathroom and I was heading to my Anglo-American Literary Survey class." "Okay, can you describe to me everything about the moment when you crossed the victim? What you saw, what you felt, smelled, heard? Was anything out of the ordinary?" You opened your eyes.

"Um, I'm sorry, but could you stop referring to Mary as the victim, please? She has a name, which is Mary Goldman, and a victim wasn't the only thing she was." Derek was slightly surprised at your comment but understood where you came from. Separating from the name was a way for profilers to gain some distance from the horrendous violence. Personally knowing the victim, you didn't have such luxury. "Of course, I apologise. What did you feel when you crossed Mary? Was anything out of place?"

You nodded in thanks and tried to bring yourself back to that moment. It seemed unreal, how such a small interaction suddenly held such importance. "O-Okay, uh, my hands are still a bit wet. There weren't any towels in the bathroom. I saw her after she saw me and we exchanged a smile. I thought she looked really pretty today, but I didn't tell her. We really don't know each other that well." "Okay, that's good. Was she wearing anything out of habit for her?" "Uhh, no, she was wearing a pleated skirt and a sweater vest. She often dresses like that, I don't know exactly why I thought she looked pretty. I guess she just looked happy. Nothing was out of the ordinary." "Good. Could you hear or smell anything?" "Yeah, well, there were the voices of other people in the hall. I can hear girls laughing. I smell Mary's perfume when she walks past me. She always wears the same one, it's Chanel, Mademoiselle Coco specifically, she told me once at a party."

"Okay, do you know where she's going?" "I- yeah, she's heading for her Behavioural Neuroscience class." "Is she walking in the right direction?" "Uh... Yes, yes, she is. She's not in too much of a hurry, though, she doesn't like the teacher." "So why is she heading there already, then? The class only starts at 11:30." "She likes to reread the material from the previous week before the class starts." "Why doesn't she like the teacher?" "No one does, all he does is read off his slides and he's a jerk when it comes to grading."

Morgan suppressed a smile at your comment. "Okay, thank you so much, Y/N, this was very helpful." "Was it? I didn't feel like-" "Yes, I promise you've just shared some crucial pieces of information." "O-Okay, if you say so."

All eyes were on Morgan as he entered the briefing room. He put his paper coffee cup down on the table and looked at Hotch. "Nothing was out of the ordinary. Mary was wearing habitual clothes and the same perfume she always wore. She was heading to the same class, as she did weekly, at the same time. My guess is this guy knew her routine and did a blitz attack. Y/N gave me the number of Mary's best friend, and according to her, Mary didn't have any guys in her life except for her dad and brother."

Hotchner nodded. Spencer couldn't help but feeling proud of you for being able to go through with the interview and to provide such useful information, too. He'd have to congratulate you when he got home. "Pretty boy and I found three similar victims in the last three years. They weren't connected to this case because they were in another university, just on the other side of the state line. Last year, three girls, university students, were killed, same MO, all disappeared for about three hours before being found dead in front of the university, they attended," Garcia spoke from the speaker. Spencer nodded in agreement to her words. "What did the police find back then?" asked Emily. "Nothing, they- uh, did all they could during the month that the three murders happened but after the third victim, the unsub stopped," Spencer answered. "Stopped?" Emily repeated, brows drawn together in confusion. "Yeah, he just- stopped killing and disappeared. Our best guess is that something triggered him then and that the same thing triggered him now."

"Oh, another thing," Garcia sounded reluctant to share the information she had, "I looked at all the victims' pictures and... well, I'll just send them to you, that'll be easier."

Spencer's blood ran ice cold as he stared at the four girls on the screen. They all looked exactly like you.

Taglist : (all those of you who wanted a part two <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina

[beloveds-embrace]

Noona you have given me brain worms.

I wonder what the guys would do if they found the scentless reader had entered an enemy house and killed them all before the guys could get close because of their lack of scent? Does John hate using them for intrusions but does it anyways because it's the best chance of everyone coming home alive? Do the guys have a ritual of coming home off missions and rescenting their reader? I really need to stop thinking about this one and get back to homework.

(As an aside I am in LOVE with your writing and I read your works when I get stuck because you craft words so well.)

I claim no guilt over giving anyone brain worms, and omfg thank you!! That’s extremely high praise to me bc i absolutelyyy love your works <33 💕💕 :3 for your first question, they wouldn’t exactly be surprised. It’s why you were brought on the Task Force, it’s what makes you so useful. But once they reached the state of wanting you, and then slowly pulling you in?

They hated it. Hated it every damn time Price gave the order, even if they knew it was the right call.

No scent. No designation. No trace of you ever being there.

You were a ghost, in ways that even Simon couldn’t match. Silent, invisible to the senses, slipping through enemy lines like smoke and leaving nothing but bodies in your wake.

It was useful. Crucial, even. Quite literally the reason why the military had so much use of you. The best chance of keeping everyone alive. Price knew it, hated it, and did it anyway. Every time.

But it never stopped the way his chest felt tight when he had to send you ahead- alone. Never stopped the sharp glances Ghost shot him before you slipped away into the shadows, or the way Soap and Gaz went so still as they listened for any sign of trouble over the comms.

And it definitely never stopped what came after.

The moment you were back- safe and whole but covered in blood- Price’s hand was on the back of your neck, thumb digging gently into your faulty scent gland, his grip firm and grounding. Ghost was right behind him, his presence dark and heavy, crowding close enough to make your breath hitch. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.

Soap and Gaz weren’t far behind. Soap’s hands were already reaching for your gear, tugging straps and buckles loose, brushing against your skin as if to remind himself you were there. Gaz hovered close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his fingers brushing yours when he helped you unclip your holster.

They didn’t leave your side. Not through debriefing, not through cleaning up, not even when you asked them to.

And later- once the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion set in- they were all but dragging you into the nest.

It was deliberate, the way they settled you down in the middle of it, surrounded by blankets that smelled like them, by them. Soap’s hands lingered on your hips, steady and warm, and Gaz was already curling up beside you, pressing into your side like he was trying to leave traces of his scent on your skin.

Price sat at your back, his chest pressed to your spine, one arm looped around your waist while the other cradled your head, tucking it under his chin. He didn’t say anything- just held you there, anchoring you in place as Ghost knelt down in front of you, tugging off your boots and brushing his gloved fingers along your calves and ankles as he went.

And then they started.

Ghost first, leaning in close to press his masked face against your neck. The slow, deliberate drag of fabric and leather along your skin made you shiver, and he didn’t stop until Price hummed low in approval. Soap followed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder before dipping low to nuzzle at your thigh, his hands curling loosely around your knee.

Gaz was next, pressing his forehead against yours and lingering there long enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek.

Price was last. His beard scratched lightly against your skin as he dragged his mouth along your throat and jaw, rumbling quietly when you tilted your head for him without thinking.

It took hours. Longer than necessary, longer than it had to, but they didn’t stop until you were covered in them- soaked in their scents and surrounded on all sides.

Didn’t stop until Ghost finally leaned back, pulling his mask away just long enough to press his lips against your temple, and murmured, “There. No one’s getting near you now.”

(If it was before, when you still didn’t realize what they were doing- everything was sharper. Tighter.

They didn’t say anything, but you felt it. Felt the weight of their eyes on you when Price ordered you to take point. Felt the way Soap’s jaw clenched when you slipped away, silent and invisible, like you always did.

You noticed how Gaz lingered by the comms, fingers tapping nervously against the console even though he wasn’t the type to fidget. How Ghost’s hands hovered near his weapons, muscles coiled and ready to move like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

And then there was Price.

Price, who stood stiff and silent until you reappeared, covered in someone else’s blood and staring at him like you knew he hated it but couldn’t bring himself to say so. Price, who didn’t let go of your shoulder the entire debrief, whose thumb rubbed small, grounding circles into your skin every time someone so much as looked at you the wrong way, and you told yourself it was just some weird Alpha instinct that you wouldn’t realize.

They didn’t say anything, not really. Just kept touching- light brushes of Soap’s arm against yours, Gaz’s hand lingering a little too long when he passed you gear, Ghost standing so close you could feel the heat of him against your back.

You thought it was just nerves. Stress. You didn’t think it was something else- not until later.

Not until you were sitting in the nest, exhausted.

Not until you caught Ghost staring at you like he wanted to devour you, or Price leaning in so close that you felt his breath on your skin when he murmured, “Stay still, love.”

Not until Soap tucked himself against your side with a soft, pleased sound, and Gaz let out a low purr, his hands running up and down your arms like he was soothing something neither of you could name.

You didn’t understand it- not then- but they did. The confusion on your face was almost cute if not just a touch infuriating.)

[lev1hei1chou]

When their child wants a sibling

Dad!Gojo x reader, Dad!Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Masterlist Requests open!

GOJO SATORU

"Mommy, can I have a sibling?" your five-year-old daughter, Hikari, asked as she plopped down next to you on the couch, her eyes wide and hopeful. You were in the middle of reading a book, and the sudden question caught you off guard.

Gojo, who was lounging on the other end of the couch, immediately perked up. "A sibling, huh?" he mused, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "That sounds like a great idea."

You shot him a look. "Satoru, we need to talk about this first."

"But Mommy," Hikari interrupted, "all my friends at kindergarten have siblings. I'm the only one who doesn't."

You sighed, closing your book and putting it aside. "It's not that simple, sweetheart. Having a sibling is a big responsibility."

Satoru scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "She's right, Hikari. It means sharing your toys, your room, and your parents' attention. Are you ready for that?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yes! I promise I'll be the best big sister ever. I can even help take care of the baby!"

You looked at Gojo, who was trying to not laugh. "Well, I suppose we can think about it."

"Yay!" Hikari cheered, jumping off the couch and running around the living room in excitement.

Gojo leaned in and whispered in your ear, "Looks like we're in for some fun times ahead."

Later that evening, after Hikari had been put to bed, you and Gojo sat in the kitchen, sipping tea. "Do you really think we can handle another kid?" you asked, looking over at him.

"Of course we can," he replied confidently. "We're a great team, and besides, Hikari will make an awesome big sister."

You smiled, feeling reassured by his words. "I guess we could start trying."

Gojo's grin widened. "That's the spirit! And, you know, the trying part is the most fun."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help laughing. "You're impossible, Satoru."

A few weeks later, you found yourself in the same spot on the couch, Hikari sitting on your lap this time, telling you all about her day at kindergarten. Your husband was, as usual, lounging next to you, pretending to be deeply interested in a magazine.

"Mommy, did you and Daddy think about what we talked about?" Hikari asked suddenly, looking up at you with her big, innocent eyes.

You exchanged a glance with Gojo, who gave you a slight nod. "Yes, we did," you said. "And we decided that we're going to try to give you a sibling."

Her face lit up with joy. "Really? When?"

"Well," Gojo began, putting down his magazine, "it might take some time. Making a baby is a little complicated."

Hikari frowned, clearly not understanding. "But you can do it, right?"

Gojo chuckled. "Yes, we can do it. You just have to be patient, okay?"

"Okay!" she agreed, and then ran off to play with her toys.

You turned to Gojo, who was trying to suppress his laughter. "You're enjoying this way too much," you said.

"I can't help it," he replied. "It's just so cute seeing her so excited."

Days passed, and Hikari kept asking every now and then about her future sibling. Every time, her dad would give her some humorous yet evasive answer, like "We're working on it," or "These things take time."

One day, you and Gojo sat Hikari down for a serious talk. "Baby, we have some news for you," you began, holding her small hands in yours.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"Mommy is going to have a baby," you announced, watching her reaction closely.

She gasped, her face lighting up with excitement. "Really? I'm going to be a big sister?"

"Yes, you are," Gojo confirmed, ruffling her hair. "But remember, it means you'll have to be very patient and very helpful."

"I will! I promise!" Hikari declared, hugging both of you tightly.

As the months went by, she was true to her word. She helped pick out baby clothes, decorated the nursery, and even tried to learn how to change diapers on her dolls. Gojo, ever the doting husband and father, made sure you were comfortable and happy, always ready with a joke or a warm hug.

One evening, as you all sat together in the nursery, she looked up at you and Gojo and said, "Thank you, Mommy and Daddy, for giving me a sibling. I can't wait to meet them."

You smiled, tears of joy in your eyes, and pulled her close. "You're going to be the best big sister ever, Hikari."

Gojo wrapped his arms around both of you, his voice soft and full of love. "And we're going to be the best family ever."

NANAMI KENTO

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room where Nanami and you lay snuggled in bed on a lazy Sunday morning. The peace was interrupted by a small figure bouncing into the room with unmatched enthusiasm.

"Mama! Papa! Wake up!" Your energetic four-year-old, Haruto, exclaimed, jumping onto the bed.

Nanami groaned playfully, his arm draped over his eyes. "Haruto, it's too early for this much energy."

You chuckled, sitting up and ruffling Haruto's messy bedhead. "Good morning, champ! What's got you so excited?"

Haruto grinned widely, his eyes sparkling. "I want a little brother or sister!"

Nanami lifted his arm and squinted at Haruto. "What?"

Haruto nodded enthusiastically, his hands gesturing wildly. "Yeah! I want someone to play with!"

You exchanged a surprised glance with Nanami before bursting into laughter. "Oh, sweetheart, where did that come from?"

Nanami sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Haruto, having a sibling is a big responsibility. Are you sure about this?"

Haruto nodded again, his determination unwavering. "Yes! Like in the storybooks!"

Nanami looked at you, a mix of amusement and disbelief on his face. "Well, I suppose we should consider it."

You smiled at Nanami, silently agreeing that it was a discussion worth having later. "How about we start with breakfast, and then we can talk more about it, okay?"

Haruto nodded eagerly, already bouncing off the bed and heading towards the kitchen, his request seemingly forgotten in the excitement of pancakes.

As you all gathered around the table, Haruto dug into his pancakes with fervor, occasionally pausing to chatter about his favorite cartoon or his adventures with his friends at preschool. Nanami sipped his coffee, occasionally interjecting with a question or a gentle reminder to eat properly and slowly.

After breakfast, while Nanami tidied up the kitchen, you took Haruto to the living room where his toys were scattered about. Sitting down among the stuffed animals and building blocks, you leaned in closer to Haruto.

"Hey, buddy, about what you said earlier..."

Haruto looked up from his toys, eyes wide with anticipation. "Yes, Mama?"

You smiled warmly, trying to find the right words. "Having a brother or sister is a big decision for us grown-ups too. It's something we need to think about carefully."

Haruto nodded seriously, his brows furrowed in thought. "But Mama, Papa, I promise I'll be a good big brother! I'll share my toys and teach them everything!"

Your heart melted at his earnestness. "I'm sure you would be, sweetheart. We'll talk more about it, okay? Papa and I will figure out what's best for our family."

Haruto nodded again, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and resumed playing with his toys. You watched him for a moment, marveling at how quickly he was growing up. Glancing over at Nanami, who had finished cleaning and was now watching the two of you with a soft smile, you knew you were on the same page.

Later when Haruto was napping after lunch, you and Nanami spoke about what your son had started.

"I never thought we'd be having this conversation so soon," Nanami mused, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your knee.

You chuckled softly, leaning into his touch. "Kids have a way of surprising you, don't they?"

Nanami nodded, his gaze warm and fond as he looked at you. "I think Haruto would make a wonderful big brother."

You smiled, feeling a swell of love for both your husband and your son. "He really would."

One day, after putting your child to bed, you found yourselves lingering at the kitchen table, a stack of pamphlets and notes scattered between cups of cooling tea. Nanami glanced up from a particularly detailed chart of baby essentials, his expression thoughtful.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked quietly, his eyes meeting yours over the rim of his glasses.

You nodded, reaching across to take his hand. "I think so. Our little one is growing up so fast. It feels like we have so much love to give."

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I agree. And he's already so excited about the idea of a sibling."

You smiled, thinking back to the countless times your child had brought up the topic, from drawing pictures of a baby with their older sibling to asking if you could name the new addition after their favorite cartoon character.

[healedlover]

YOU WIN, NOW ITS MY TURN

summary: academic rivals, with benefits. you and gojo agreed to grant each other whatever the other desired. pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader cw: college setting, academic rivals, p in v, fluff I think, make out sesh, cocky gojo, dirty talk, praise a/n: Lowkey been thinking about gojo these past days, quick one shot but also my first gojo fic...sighs

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

"Man, that test was difficult," Gojo jokes.

You and him had been academic rivals since the start of middle school and you still were in college. but this time, the prizes were different.

In middle school, if he won, you would have to do his homework for the week. and if you won, he would do your work. Simple.

Now that the two of you have gotten older and more mature, Gojo wanted to switch up the rules a bit. 

Instead of you doing his homework, he’d ask you to do him instead.

After every test, he knew he was going to beat you. He always studied a week in advance and somehow always aces it. But you, you were always one or two marks behind him, and never won since. 

Usually they give the marks a day later and you were dreading the day to come. But for this test, you studied your ass off like crazy, and when you did the test it seemed easy? You just hoped you passed Gojo for once.

The next day rolled along and you went to class, sitting in your regular spot. You felt a presence creep up next to you and Gojo stares at you with a wide grin plastered on his face.

"What's got you so happy?" you mutter, flicking your pencil around your fingers. Gojo chuckled and took off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt.

"That you're going to have to give me my prize today"

You scoff and mutter something incoherent under your breath, Gojo just stares at you and puts his glasses back on. Before either of you could speak again, the professor interrupts and calls down everyone to get their tests.

Sighing, you get up from your seat and walk over to the professor's desk, he hands over the tests one by one, and when you get yours...

100 percent?!

you smile at your paper and head back to your seat, Gojo follows momentarily and sits down next to you, staring at his paper and sneaking a few glances at you.

"Ready?" you ask.

He nods and you both flip your paper at the same time.

You never forgot the expression on Gojo's face when he saw you got a hundred, and he got a 95.

"What?! Are you sure this is your test?"

You chuckle and Gojo snatched your test, comparing his and yours, his eyes darting from question to question as he noticed all the mistakes he made.

He let out an angry sigh and slammed the tests on the desk before turning his body towards you.

"What do you want?"

"Just a kiss."

"That's it? I'm sure I could give more.." he teased, you rolled your eyes and grabbed your test back from his side of the desk.

"I'll be busy, we have another test tomorrow and I need to study for that."

"just come over to my place and study there, I'll give you your reward and we can study together, same subject right?"

What an odd request, Gojo never really recommended studying together. But you were a little intrigued at the idea. All you had to do was get your kiss, study for a few hours, and go back home, couldn't be that hard, right?

"Fine."

Gojo let out a small chuckle and turned back around to his seat.

As the day progressed, time started to go by really fast. You were supposed to go to Gojo's place in an hour and you haven't started on any homework beforehand, all you were worrying about is what you were going to wear.

Eventually, you found a suitable outfit and packed your things and waited for the time to go by.

Half an hour passed and you left your place to start walking over to Gojo's. He was only a ten minute walk away and you were dreading for the moment to happen.

You finally got to Gojo's place ten minutes later, you stood in front of his door and gave it a few knocks. shuffling was heard on the other side and the door flung open to reveal Gojo in a large t-shirt while his hair was messy and his glasses were out of place.

"hi satoru"

Gojo greeted you back and grabbed onto your wrists, dragging you inside his place. you've only been there a couple of times and it looked the same the exact time.

it was always clean and organized like crazy, and he had a bunch of collectables, way too much.

the two of you got to the living room and sat down along the coffee table, Gojo brought out his textbooks and notebooks, lying them on the table across from him. You eventually did the same.

"lets start, and then I'll give you your kiss whenever you want!" Gojo cheered, opening his textbook to a random page and started on the work.

"oka–"

"by the way, how'd you get a hundred on the last test?"

"I studied a bit more than I should've."

"hm, okay." Gojo lifted the end of his pen to his lips and pondered for a few minutes as he stared at the textbook for a few second before an idea sparked in his mind.

"lets quiz each other after studying, okay?"

"sure, lets do that."

Gojo nodded and started studying, and you did the same.

an hour passed and the two of you got a lot of studying done. You haven’t talked to each other the whole hour. The cold, silent room was interrupted with Gojos groan as he stretched in his seat.

“you done?” he asked between yawns. You nodded and he closed up his textbooks before grabbing his question sheet.

“How about this, every question you answer wrong.. you give me a kiss, or I give you a kiss, doesn’t matter.”

“I asked for one kiss, didn’t I?”

“Then make sure you get one question wrong.”

You chuckle, “or I could get all of them correct.”

Gojo shook his head and started asking you the first question, it was a simple multiple choice question.

“—A, B, or C”

“C?”

“Wrong.” Gojo smirked creeping towards you, your eyes widened and you looked at your notes and back at Gojo who was inches away from your face.

“Damn it.” You mutter and quickly give him a small peck on his lips, he frowned and grabbed onto your chin to pull you into a more intense kiss.

He pulled away moments later and stared into your eyes.

“Do it like that, yeah?”

You scoff and Gojo moves on to the next question, which you surprisingly got right. Question after question you kept getting it correct.

Until…

“D, E or F?”

“F.”

“Finally.” Gojo grinned and leaned his face towards yours, you sigh, placing your fingers under his chin and crash your lips onto his, he stumbled on top of you and slipped his fingers through your hair as his tongue pushed deeper inside your mouth.

His glasses kept falling on your face, which caused him to push his face closer to you so he could keep them on. You grabbed onto his hair and pulled his face away, a string of saliva trailing between your lips.

Gojo’s face was flushed as he breathed breathlessly over you, his glasses kept slipping off, and eventually, they fell on your face.

You groan as Gojo laughed quietly, picking up the glasses from your face and putting them on you. You blink a few times, adjusting yourself to his vision and notice how nice his eyes were in this vision.

Gojo wrapped his fingers around your neck and brought you into another kiss.

“Wai—mmh”

Gojo pulled away and grabbed onto your legs, wrapping them around his waist, his eyes were filled with need and desire, he wanted you to choose more than just a small kiss.

“There’s still…5 more questions left” he said while glancing at the question sheet he made and back at you, you whimper in response before he slowly lifted down his pants, revealing his aching hard-on.

“Please…just this once, please?”

You grumble a yes under your breath and his expression lit up the slightest. His fingers sunk under the waistband of your pants and he pulled them down in a quick movement.

Gojo stared down at your figure, his eyes lingering on your soaking cunt for a few seconds before he slipped two fingers inside, stretching and stroking it for a few seconds.

“You’re so..tight, ngh..you think my cock can take you in with a pussy like this?”

“Mmh—satoru hurry!”

“How impatient, you still have a question to answer, then I’ll put it in, hm?”

“Just get on with it” you moaned.

Gojo read out the question and the options you had, you knew the answer to it, but your mind was in a haze with his fingers working so well inside you.

“C!”

“Good girl, you’ll get your reward now, hm?”

You nod repeatedly and he chuckled, slipping his fingers out of you. Gojo grabbed onto the tip of his cock and stroked it, letting the pre-cum drip out of him before slipped inside you.

A moan escaped out of your lips when you felt his tip make contact with your entrance. Gojo let out a tsk before slowly thrusting inside you.

“Next…mghh question, you’re taking me in so good already.” He moaned grabbing onto the paper of questions and reading out the next one.

You answered wrong.

“Wrong.” Gojo said before thrusting his full length inside you. A wave of shock scattered through your body and your back arched at the pleasure he was putting inside you.

“What- what’s the answerrrr?! s-slow down!”

“It was the third option, now, lift your hips for me.”

You obeyed and lifted your hips to the perfect angle, Gojo threw the paper aside and grabbed onto your hips viciously thrusting himself into you.

“Look at me, let me see you wear my glasses as I fuck yo-you”

You turn your head towards him and he grinned, a flash of hunger appeared in his eyes. Gojo leaned in closer and planted a million kisses on your face.

“So…beautiful” he said between kisses, the rhythm he was fucking you at was now forgotten, he was getting restless and he needed you so bad.

“Do you think you’re going to beat me on the test tomorrow?” He asked.

“I- will.” You moaned, grabbing onto his arms and putting light pressure on it, your nails digging deep inside them.

“Oh will you?”

“Yes— ‘m gonna c-cum!” You cried out. Gojo moaned in response and brought you into a deep, passionate kiss.

A streak of cum spurted out and Gojo pulled out, watching your cum coat his cock like a blanket, he glanced at you before grabbing onto your hand and placing it on his wet, cock.

“Finish me off.”

You stare at his cock, out of breath and wrap your fingers around it, stroking it in slow, deliberate movements. Whimpered echoed the room and Gojo was already close to release.

“Keep—‘m almost there..yesss”

Gojo tilted his head back and groaned in pleasure as white beads stream out of his cock. He sighed in relief and stared at you breathlessly, fixing his glasses on your face before giving you one more kiss.

“Thank you, baby…lets get cleaned up now, yeah?”

-

The next day you did the test and prayed you passed Gojo. This time the results were meant to release on the same day.

When school ended you and Gojo stood next each other and opened the results at the same time.

Gojo won.

— 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ —

[sexlapis]

one shot. angst & fluff.

“Don’t even look at me!” You spit at Nanami. “You don’t even fucking love me anymore.”

Nanami sighs. “Baby, that’s not-“”

“No, no,” you storm away from, going back to furiously washing the dishes like you were doing before he arrived home from work, “seriously. Just go back to your coworkers and have fun with them instead of me. Go have drinks with them or something. Since that’s clearly what you want.”

Nanami gulps. He watches you angrily scrub at a dish, fireing away at an annoying stain.

He takes off his suit jacket.

“Sweetheart.” He walks up behind you, like you’re a skittish, feral cat about to pounce. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, an act which you surprisingly accept. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t give you your kisses.” Nanami kisses your temple. “I was just in a hurry.”

You and Nanami had a routine - he gives you one kiss in the morning, your voice croaky and the crust still caked in the corners of your eyes and one kiss before he leaves for work.

He seems to have forgotten this, much to your dismay.

You huff, not facing him. “…I’m not being ‘sensitive’ or ‘crazy’. They’re important things and you forgot.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

You turn your head to face him this time. “Just sensitive?”

“Well…yes.”

Rolling your eyes, you whip back around to continue washing the dishes.

“Wait. Wait.” Nanami prevents you from turning away from him again. He asks his next question softly. “Is it really just two kisses you’re upset about?”

“Because it’s not fair, Kento!” You shout. The sudden outburst stuns him a little, his heart jumping. “You can’t just leave without saying goodbye!”

Your last word is choked out in a sob and Nanami is quick to pull you to his chest.

He thought you were only joking, being light-hearted and would go back to your usual self after a few kisses, but now? He doesn’t think so.

How long have you been feeling like this? Carrying all of these feelings of worry and distress inside of you, keeping them all stored inside of you until, inevitably, all would be revealed anyway.

It pains him that you didn’t tell him almost as much as the fact that you’re feeling like this in the first place.

It makes him even more resolute in his decision.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?”

You sniffle. “Because of your stupid job and your stupid long hours and your stupid-“”

“Okay, okay.” He shushes you, cupping the base of your head. “Alright”.

You groan. You’ve seemingly come to the realisation that you’ve been acting unreasonably.

“Kenny, I-“”

“I’m going to quit.”

You pause. You look at him, teary eyes wide. “What?”

“I’m going to quit. Do something else. Something…safe.”

“But…but what about when you said-“”

“Forget about what I said. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I can’t do this forever. And…I want you to…I don’t want you to always be worrying about me. Especially if it makes you so stressed out.”

“Kenny…”

A few seconds later, your face is being cradled in big, rough hands. Nanami makes sure you’re looking at him. “You’re my number one priority, okay? Not my coworkers. Not my job.”

Waters ripples in your eyes once more. “Kento…”

“Don’t cry.” He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb. His eyes are soft. The weight of the job is already being lifted off of his shoulders. “I love you. I love you.”

You hiccup. “I love you too.”

Nanami can’t help but smile at your wet face, red nose and runny nostrils. He cradles the back of your head with his hand. “You’re so silly, angel.”

You whine into his chest and he knows everything will be alright.

[greengoblinswifey]

The Deal

pairing— nerd!luigi x popular!bitchy!reader

summary— Luigi was the nerd who always had his eyes on you, the popular girl who was way out of his league. You made a habit of teasing him for it and he never knew he could have a chance with him until you made a deal. If he got you an A on your assignment, you'd let him take you on a date. Based on this request.

warnings— praise kink, oral(m,f), fingering, praise kink, slight sub!luigi, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— Luigi’s website for updates!

Luigi had always stared, it was impossible not to notice those piercing eyes lingering on you in lectures, even in the library. He was subtle about it, but you knew. He wasn’t like the frat guys or the football players you used to date, and he knew that too. No matter how deep his crush ran, he never thought he’d stand a chance.

So, you gave him one, for fun. It started small, teasing him whenever you caught him looking. A slow smirk, a roll of your eyes. Then it escalated, leaning in close just to watch him stammer, calling on him just to hear him scramble for an answer. Your little entourage found it hilarious. But the best part? Making him do your assignments.

“I could help you study instead,” he had suggested once, trying so hard to sound confident.

“Why the fuck would I study when I have you?”

And like everyone else in this school, he fell to his knees for you. No questions asked.

The last assignment had been brutal, and you’d made him an offer just to amuse yourself. “If I get above a 90, I’ll let you take me on a date,” you had smirked, watching his face light up like you’d just handed him the moon. Cute.

And, well, he was. Not just in the typical nerdy way, but genuinely. Dark curls, sharp jaw, broad shoulders that you knew hid something impressive under those hoodies.

All week, you kept up the act, teasing him relentlessly. Your friends joined in, laughing, asking if he really thought he stood a chance. He never had an answer. Maybe he didn’t believe it himself.

Then the grade came back. 98%.

You were shocked—actually shocked. You turned to him, eyes wide, before practically throwing yourself into his lap, squealing. “Oh my God, Lulu! You’re a genius!” Your lips pressed to his cheek in an impulsive kiss, even using the nickname you had given him and when you pulled back, his face was bright red, completely frozen.

You got up, laughing in his face.

“S-so, does this mean I get to take you on that date?” he stuttered.

You paused, tilting your head, really looking at him. You’d been so busy playing with him that you hadn’t noticed just how attractive he really was.

“Yeah,” you said, surprising yourself. “You can.”

And the way his breath hitched? Worth every second.

A couple days later, he was at your door to pick you up, but honestly? He still couldn’t believe this was happening.

You, the popular girl everyone wanted , the one who always had something snarky to say—had actually agreed to go out with him. And now, you stood in front of him, looking so effortlessly gorgeous that it made his chest feel tight.

“Still staring, Lulu?” you teased, stepping outside, the smirk on your lips and the way the nickname rolled off your tongue making his head spin.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he opened the car door for you. “Guess I can’t help myself.”

You slid in, watching him as he walked around to the driver’s side. Even when you weren’t messing with him, there was something about you that made him feel unsteady in a way he liked more than he wanted to admit.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” you joked.

He shot you a glance, shifting into drive. “What, you thought I’d back out?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a guy chickened out around me,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, well. I’m not like them,” he scoffed.

You grinned. “No, you’re not.”

And for the first time all night, you were the one staring.

Luigi was a proper gentleman all night. From the moment he picked you up, he was attentive, opening doors, pulling out your chair, complimenting you like you were the most breathtaking thing he'd ever seen. “You look beautiful,” he said softly, as his gaze lingered on you from across the table.

And for the first time, you actually talked. Really talked. It took effort on his part, his usual nervousness was there, but he pushed through, and you realized just how intelligent he was. Thoughtful, passionate, with so much more to offer than just the schoolwork you made him do.

Meanwhile, the wine had left a pleasant buzz in your veins, making everything a little hazier, a little bolder. And Luigi, he looked good, really good. That sharp jaw, the way his tie hung slightly loose now, how his dark curls made him so much more attractive, when he leaned forward, elbows on the table, talking about something that made his eyes light up.

By the time he drove you home, you could feel the buzz of the alcohol mixing with something else entirely. He had given you his jacket, paid the bill without hesitation, and now, on the drive back, he was rambling.

“I had such a great time tonight,” he said, gripping the wheel a little too tightly. “Thank you f-for actually going out with me. I mean, I know you could’ve bailed, and I wouldn’t have blamed you, but you didn’t, and—God, you are just—stunning. Like, I still can’t believe—”

You cut him off mid sentence, leaning over and pressing your lips to his. He gasped into it, shocked, but you could feel how quickly he melted, his hands twitching as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

By the time you pulled back, he was breathless.

“Are you d-drunk?” he stammered, eyes darting across your face.

“Why? Was that a sloppy, drunk kiss?” you smirked.

“No—God, no, it was amazing, but—” His face was burning. “Why would you ever kiss me?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing his tie and tugging him toward the door. “Because I want you.”

You barely heard his shaky inhale before you pulled him inside, locking the door behind you.

Then, his lips were on yours again, this time, with more desperation, more hunger. His hands hovered, uncertain, but you could feel the way he shivered when you tangled your fingers in his curls.

And when he let out the softest, most helpless whimper? It made your pussy clench around nothing.

Luigi’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, shedding your dress only leaving you in lingerie, his wide eyes raking over your figure. He had always thought you were stunning, but this left him speechless.

“You— you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, almost in awe, his hands hesitating before resting on your waist.

You smirked, amused by his reaction. “Cat got your tongue, handsome?”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No, I just, I never thought I’d ever—” He cut himself off, choosing instead to trail his fingers over your skin.

His admiration sent a rush straight to your pussy and when he finally gathered himself enough to kneel, shift your underwear, kiss your clit and murmur soft praises against you, you felt something shift. It wasn’t just the usual teasing, the push and pull you were so used to, it was something more.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as he ravished your pussy. “So beautiful, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Your fingers tangled in his dark curls, pulling him into your pussy, his nose nudging your pelvis.

“Is this okay?” he asked breathless, fingers circling your leaking hole.

You nodded frantically, bucking your hips, needing more.

His tongue lapped at your juices and he slipped a finger inside you, curling, like he was trying to memorize your walls. No one had ever been so focused on your pleasure.

“Fuck, Lu, you’re so good at this,” you moaned, hands gripping his hair.

Your praises willed him on and he hooked a hand under you, tilting your body upwards as his lips engulfed your clit and his finger thrusted inside you.

“Just like that, I’m about to—” Your words were cut off by your own scream and an intense orgasm washing over you. Luigi carried you through it, slurping up your juices as your entire body convulsed.

“You taste better than anything I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he panted, finally sitting up, lips glistening.

You smirked, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him on top of you. His cock was practically bulging out of his pants and you flipped him over, undoing his belt and pulling down his bottoms.

As his cock sprang free, you couldn’t help the audible gasp that left your lips. Luigi was huge.

Now, it was your time to stutter. “Y-you’re so big.”

He was thick, long, veiny and hard. It almost looked painful. Hesitantly, you took ahold of him, your hand barely able to go around it.

“Really?” he asked, shooting you a curious glance. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s the least of my worries. Fuck, I want it to hurt,” you said, practically drooling as you stared down at his cock.

His breathing grew heavier, body practically shaking as you held his cock in your hand. But then, you let go of him, a smirk playing on your lips as you trailed your fingers down his chest after you ripped his shirt off, the buttons flying everywhere, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch. He was already breathless, watching you with wide, eager eyes, his hands gripping the sheets like he was bracing himself.

“You’re so easy to tease,” you murmured, tilting your head as you let your fingers ghost over his abs. He was built like a Greek God. “So worked up already, huh?”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You, you’re just—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale when you licked his shaft, the warmth of your breath making him shiver.

His reaction only made you want to push him further. You placed a lingering kiss to his tip, feeling the way his cock twitched beneath you. “I haven’t even started, and you’re already falling apart,” you teased.

A whimper slipped past his lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his hands fisting the sheets even tighter as your lips wrapped around his tip. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

That sent a thrill through you. The way he was unraveling so easily, the way his breath hitched with every tiny movement, it boosted your ego.

When you finally took him down your throat, all the tension built up in him melted into a broken moan. His fingers trembled as they reached for you, barely managing to grip your shoulder as if he needed to ground himself.

“Feels so good,” he breathed, his voice laced with disbelief, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re—God, you’re amazing.”

His praise came in soft, desperate gasps, each one more raw than the last, and it only spurred you on. Every shaky breath, every whispered compliment, every helpless sound he made, it was enough to keep you bobbing your head steadily.

The way your tongue swirled as you took him into your throat, the way his pre cum and your salvia dripped down your chin, the way your eyes watered and the way your mouth stretched wide to accommodate his size had him whimpering so loudly.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he managed to croak out, cock throbbing in your mouth.

You hummed around his cock, bobbing your head and massaging his balls as he bucked his hips, his entire body trembling. Your lips wrapped around the tip, suckling as you stroked his shaft and his hot load shot down your throat.

“Fuck. Thank you, thank you so much,” he moaned, toes curling as ropes of his cum coated your tongue.

You seductively shed yourself of your lingerie, your body bare as you climbed on top of him. He stared at you like you were a masterpiece, breathing heavy and his cock still hard. You took ahold of him, dragging the tip along your folds.

“You’re always such a tease,” he whined.

A primal sound left his lips as you sank down onto his cock, your nails digging into his chest. The air was knocked out of your lungs as took every inch.

“You feel so good. Oh my God,” he whimpered, hands resting on your hips.

After you finally adjusted to his size though it still felt like you were being ripped apart, you lifted yourself up and began bouncing on his cock. Your hands were flat on his pecs, your ass slamming down on him as you rode him like your life depended on it.

His whimpers went straight to your pussy, the sound like music to your ears as you circled your hips and moved back and forth. Every movement felt like he was brushing against your cervix.

His eyes averted between your tits and your wet pussy gripping his cock. “You look so beautiful riding me like that.”

A smirk was on your lips and you lifted yourself even higher, slamming yourself back down and making the entire bed shake as you bounced.

“Rub my clit,” you cried out, feeling your orgasm approach.

Without missing a beat, he began rubbing your clit in harsh circles as you moved back and forth. He felt like he would black out, the sheer pleasure and how good you felt almost too much. You wrapped your hand around his throat, the action making his cock twitch and you knew he was close.

“Cum with me Lu. Cum inside me, you deserve it,” you panted, bouncing wildly.

He wrapped his arms around you and you fell on top of him, your entire body shaking, your pussy clamping tightly around him as you squirted on his raw cock. The rush of liquid sent him over the edge and as you came, you felt him cum deep inside you, his warm, sticky load filling you up.

You lay on top of him, still catching your breath. Luigi was staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling as he tried to gather himself. Then, he looked at you as you looked up, eyes soft, admiration written all over his face.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he murmured.

You smirked, but there was something tender behind it. “Yeah? You weren’t so bad yourself.”

His face flushed, and he looked away for a second, running a hand through his curls. “Seriously, that was amazing. I don’t even know what to say.”

You rolled onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow as you traced your finger on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything.” Then, quieter, “Just hold me.”

Luigi blinked, like he wasn’t expecting that. He’d seen you confident, untouchable—but never like this.

Without a word, he pulled you against his chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You exhaled, melting into him, letting yourself get lost in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For the rest of the weekend, he took you out on more dates—dinners, late night drives and movies. And each night ended the same way, his cock inside you, bodies and hearts growing more in sync.

But eventually, the weekend came to an end, and it was time to go back to school.

As you and Luigi walked through campus, hand in hand, the stares were unavoidable. People whispered, eyes wide with shock, questioning how he managed to end up with you. But Luigi didn’t care. Not when he had you beside him.

And you didn’t care either.

He was yours. And everyone else would just have to fall in line. You were the it couple now.

[gf2bellamy]

queen why do i feel you'll EAT writing about shy! reader and subtly flirty post-prison reid? 🤭

shy — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: shy / awkward reader , they're working on a case so mention of victims / unsub etc. a/n: HEYY thank you for your request hope you like this i gave it my best shot <3

“And the two of you can work on the geographical profile.” 

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name, eyes meeting Spencer’s for the briefest of moments before you instinctively looked away, pretending to refocus on the files in front of you. Heat crept up your neck, and you tapped your fingers lightly against the table, a nervous habit you never quite managed to shake. 

Spencer’s gaze flickered down to your fingers, watching the repetitive motion before shifting his attention back to his own files. He knew you were shy—reserved, careful with your words—but over time, he’d started to notice something else.

You were even quieter around him. 

Forty-five minutes later, you arrived at the police station with the rest of the team. The usual chaos of a local precinct swirled around you—officers moving in and out, phones ringing, hurried conversations about the case at hand.

As the others scattered to their respective tasks, an officer led you and Spencer to an open conference room, giving you both space to work. 

You slipped your bag from your shoulder and draped your jacket over the back of a chair before settling into place. Just as you were pulling out your notes, Spencer’s voice cut through your thoughts. 

“Do you want coffee before we start?” 

You hesitated. You did, of course. You always started your work with coffee—it was practically a ritual at this point. But the last thing you wanted was to inconvenience him. 

“No, that’s fine,” you said, offering a small, polite smile before looking back at your notes. 

Spencer didn’t respond, just studied you for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room without another word. 

A few minutes later, the door creaked open again, and Spencer reappeared, carrying two cups of coffee. Without a word, he set one down in front of you before taking his own seat. 

Surprised, you looked up at him, eyes wide. “Spencer, you didn’t have to—” 

“I know,” he interrupted gently, stirring a packet of sugar into his coffee. “But you always have coffee before you start working, and I didn’t see you get one today.” 

Your fingers curled around the cup, the warmth of it seeping into your skin. You glanced away, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your lips curled up into a small, bashful smile. 

Spencer noticed. And he smiled too. 

You two worked side by side, occasionally exchanging thoughts on the profile as new details emerged. Every now and then, Spencer would glance at you, watching how you furrowed your brows in concentration, the way your fingers tapped against the table when you were deep in thought. 

At one point, a police officer working the case stepped into the room. He was friendly—maybe a little too friendly. He started asking about the case, directing every question to you instead of Spencer.

At first, you simply answered out of politeness, not thinking much of it, but as the conversation continued, it became clear that his interest went beyond the case. 

Spencer noticed immediately. The officer’s body language, the way he leaned slightly toward you, the casual, almost playful tone in his voice—it was obvious.

And it was bothering him. A lot. 

He watched as you shifted slightly in your seat but too polite to ignore the man’s questions. Spencer could see it—you weren’t necessarily reciprocating, just trying not to seem rude. Still, that didn’t stop the uncomfortable twist in his stomach. 

His grip on his pen tightened. Then, without looking away from the officer, he spoke. 

“We have to keep working on this,” Spencer said, his voice even but firm. Then, after a brief pause, he added, “Alone.” 

The single word carried weight. 

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze to your files, unsure how to react. The officer hesitated for a second, as if debating whether to challenge Spencer, but ultimately nodded and excused himself from the room. 

Once the door clicked shut behind him, the room felt quieter—almost tense. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, not quite meeting Spencer’s gaze. 

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, keeping your gaze fixed on the open case file in front of you. "I didn’t mean to—" 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Spencer’s voice was soft, but there was an unmistakable certainty in it. You hesitated before glancing up at him

You shifted in your seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I just… I didn’t know how to get out of that conversation without being rude,” you admitted. 

Spencer let out a small hum, tilting his head as he considered your words. “You really don’t like making people uncomfortable, do you?” 

You exhaled a small, breathy laugh. “No, I guess not.” 

He nodded, then tapped his pen against the table. “Even when they’re clearly making you uncomfortable?” 

Your fingers tightened slightly around your pen. “I mean…” You hesitated, suddenly very aware of how intently he was watching you. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

Spencer’s lips twitched, almost like he was holding back a smirk. “Right. Not that bad.” His voice was thoughtful, but there was something teasing in it. 

You furrowed your brows. “What?” 

He shrugged, flipping a page in his file.“It’s just interesting,” he mused, his tone casual. “Watching someone else try so hard to get your attention.” 

You blinked, suddenly feeling warm. “What—” 

“Not that I can blame him,” he added smoothly, cutting you off. His eyes met yours, and this time, he didn’t look away. 

Your breath hitched, and you quickly dropped your gaze to your files, trying to will away the sudden heat in your face.

Spencer chuckled, the sound quiet but amused. “I’m just saying,” he continued, leaning slightly toward you, his voice lower now. “If he had been paying closer attention, he might’ve noticed that you weren’t interested.” 

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping your pen. “And what exactly makes you so sure of that?” 

He smiled—just enough to be infuriating. “Because,” he said simply, “you get a lot quieter when you actually are interested.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

Your lips parted slightly, ready to respond—except you had no idea what to say. Spencer, ever the profiler, seemed to pick up on that, because his smirk deepened just a little before he finally turned back to his notes, acting as if nothing had happened. 

Meanwhile, you stared at your files, pretending to read, even though the words in front of you had lost all meaning. 

Some time later , you were staring at the board, your eyes scanning the map and the scattered notes pinned to it. The geographical profile was coming together, but something felt off—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You were pretty sure you had found a pattern, a connection that might help narrow down the unsub’s next move, but the last thing you wanted was to sound like a complete idiot.

Especially not in front of Spencer.

The way you could barely string a sentence together around him was embarrassing enough, and the fact that he had already picked up on it made it even worse. 

Your fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the file in your hands, your thoughts racing. The more you stared at the board, the more convinced you became that you were onto something.

 Before you could gather the courage to speak, Spencer appeared beside you, his presence so close that you could almost feel the warmth of his arm brushing against yours.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the board. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice soft but curious. He was looking at you from the side.

You swallowed hard, your fingers instinctively reaching for the necklace around your neck, twisting the delicate chain between your fingers.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, focusing on the board instead of him. 

 Spencer didn’t move. He stayed right where he was, his eyes still on you, waiting. The silence stretched between you, and you could feel the weight of his attention pressing down on you.

Finally, he spoke again, his tone gentle but persistent. “You’re staring at the board like it’s about to reveal the secrets of the universe,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “If you’ve noticed something, I’d like to hear it.” 

 You hesitated, your fingers still fiddling with your necklace. “I just… I think there might be a pattern here,” you said slowly, gesturing toward the map. “The locations of the victims—they’re not random. They’re clustered, but not in a way that’s immediately obvious. It’s like… like the unsub is following a specific route, but he’s deviating just enough to throw us off.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and he turned his full attention to the board, his eyes narrowing as he studied the map. “Go on,” he said, his voice encouraging. 

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. “If you look here,” you said, pointing to one of the pins on the map, “the first victim was found near this intersection. The second was a few blocks away, but still within walking distance. The third was further out, but if you draw a line connecting them, it’s almost like…” You trailed off, suddenly unsure if you were making any sense. 

 “Like he’s spiraling outward,” Spencer finished for you, his voice tinged with excitement. He stepped closer to the board, his eyes darting between the pins as he followed the pattern you had described. “You’re right. It’s not random. He’s moving in a deliberate pattern, but he’s expanding his radius each time.” 

 You nodded, relief washing over you as he validated your theory. “Exactly,” you said, your voice gaining a little more confidence. “And if we can predict where he’ll go next, we might be able to catch him before he strikes again.” 

 Spencer turned to look at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s… really good,” he said, his tone genuine. “I hadn’t considered that, but it makes perfect sense.” 

 You felt a rush of warmth at his praise, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as you tried to hide it by looking down at your notes. “Thanks,” you said softly. “I just… I didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong.” 

 Spencer shook his head, his expression softening. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself like that,” he said. “You have a good eye for details. You should trust your instincts more.” 

 His words caught you off guard, and you glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment. “I’ll… try to remember that,” you said softly. 

 Spencer didn’t say anything else, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to the board, his mind already racing with the new information.

You stood there beside him, your heart still pounding in your chest, but for the first time, you felt a little less unsure of yourself.

Two days later, the case was finally wrapped up. The unsub was in custody, and the team was heading back to Quantico. The relief was palpable, but so was the exhaustion. You were walking toward the jet, your go bag slung over your shoulder, when Spencer caught up to you.  

 “Let me help you,” he said, reaching for your bag before you could protest.  

 “No, no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, instinctively pulling the bag closer to you.

But before you could say anything else, he gently took the bag from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments.  

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice soft as you glanced at him. He was walking beside you now, his pace matching yours, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he was.

Close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne—something warm and subtle, like sandalwood and books. 

Spencer just smiled, adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder as you walked. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the tarmac, and the sound of the team’s chatter filled the air as they made their way to the jet.  

 “You did good work on the case,” Spencer said after a moment, his tone casual but sincere. He glanced at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Really good, actually.” 

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, and you quickly looked down, your fingers instinctively reaching for the necklace around your neck. You twisted the delicate chain between your fingers, a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to break.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “That… means a lot.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, steady and thoughtful. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the jet now in sight.

The rest of the team was already boarding, their voices carrying across the tarmac as they chatted about the case and what awaited them back home. 

When you reached the plane, Spencer stepped aside to let you board first. You murmured another quiet “thank you” as you climbed the steps, feeling his eyes on you the entire time.

You climbed the steps onto the plane, settling into your usual seat by the window. Spencer followed, stowing the bags in the overhead compartment before sliding into the seat beside you.

The proximity made your breath catch, and you quickly busied yourself with adjusting your sweater, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. 

As the plane’s engines hummed to life, you found yourself fidgeting again, your fingers toying with the necklace around your neck. It was a nervous habit, one you couldn’t seem to shake, especially when Spencer was this close. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance at you, his gaze dropping to your hands before shifting back to your face.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if debating whether to say something. Then, without a word, he reached over, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he stilled your hand. 

“You’re going to break it if you keep doing that,” he said softly, his voice low and warm. 

You froze, your breath hitching as his touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. His hand lingered for a moment, his fingers lightly tracing the chain before he pulled away, leaving your skin tingling where he’d touched you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, your face burning as you dropped your hand into your lap. 

Spencer chuckled, the sound quiet but amused. “Don’t be,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “I just… don’t want you to ruin something that’s clearly important to you.” 

You glanced at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something in his tone—something teasing but tender—that made your stomach twist.

“It’s just a habit,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours. “But you don’t have to be nervous around me, you know.” 

Your breath caught, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the window as the plane began to taxi down the runway. “I’m not nervous,” you lied, your voice shaky. 

Spencer didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, steady and unwavering. “Okay,” he said finally, his tone light but with a hint of amusement. “If you say so.” 

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. The plane lifted into the air, and you leaned back in your seat, the hum of the engines filling the silence between you. 

After a few moments, Spencer shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the book he’d stashed in the seat pocket. You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his fingers traced the spine of the book before he opened it. 

For the rest of the flight, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sending a thrill through you.

And as you closed your eyes, the faintest of smiles on your lips, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Spencer Reid saw something in you that you hadn’t quite seen in yourself yet. 

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

-------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[caldella]

SINSMAS SPOILERS AHEAD

Fan theory time!

This part of this episode had me SCREAMING because I hope they're hinting at a headcanon/theory I've had for a long time!

The way this scene was such a DIRECT callback to S1E1 Muder Family, down to looking through a window and one of them being hesitant to go through with the job because there's a happy family?

In Murder Family it was the same situation (murdering someone responsible for a marriage falling apart), but Blitzø didn't think anything of it even though he had done the same with Stolas. Blitzø and Stolas' situationship vs. Stella could've well been a Martha and Mrs. Mayberry situation, if you remove the later knowledge he and the viewers didn't have at first. Mrs. Mayberry as a client could have very well been a Stella if we didn't know the context later in the episode said otherwise. Mrs. Mayberry was more angry that the public viewed Martha as a hero for surviving being shot than anything else.

And the entire Sinsmas mission making Blitzø hesitant, because now he's realizing that he relates to his target? Like, suddenly he's examining that his revenge murder stuff isn't always the best solution, and this might be hurting someone who has been through shit and should be happy? That he could be killing a Stolas or a Blitzø? That he could be ruining a family of kids like Loona and Via who don't deserve it?

That maybe like he's been doing with his personal life, he should be asking some more questions about the impact of the jobs he's taking on, too? Add in the way Blitzø insists constantly that he's an assassin, not a bodyguard, but he is super protective of his loved ones and has proven to be really, really good at saving people...

Incoming IMP revolution theories might mess this up, but I am going to be SO, SO HAPPY if the eventual end-of-show route for IMP is that they transfer from murder to being bodyguards for hire. Like IMP is now Imminent Murder Prevention or something. Blitz is getting over his mentality that he can only make people's lives worse, and what better symbolism for that than his entire company eventually being devoted to protecting/saving people instead of destroying them?

They still get to fight/shoot/kill if needed, but to help instead of harm. The absolute symbolism. The way that would probably be really good for Blitzø's mental health once he makes that connection because he loves helping people he likes or thinks need it. Moxxie might like it, too. Just everything about this possibility.

I would love it SO MUCH.

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver 4

masterpost

Danny was starting to suspect he had kidnapped a child. He rapped his fingers against the steering wheel nervously. Jeeze. That was bad. Was Danny the stranger danger? He hit the brakes hard and turned the wheel hard to pull off a parking trick. He didn’t intend to be the stranger danger!

‘I think that is a human child. Wow, I hate myself.’ Danny turned off the car and resisted the urge to beat himself into unconsciousness against the steering wheel. ‘But he’s been helpful. Maybe it’s fine?’

He put that anxiety away to deal with later. 

“Here we are.” Robin unbuckled gingerly, another nail in the coffin he definitely didn’t have. What kind of ghost would use a seatbelt? Danny wanted to slap himself in the face. Maybe Robin didn’t know what Danny had thought. He hadn’t called him a ghost, right? Not directly. Maybe there was a way out of this social situation that wouldn’t be really awkward.

‘He appeared out of like, nowhere,’ Danny defended himself miserably. ‘In a graveyard! He moves weird- he’s just a spooky little guy.’

It was probably the kind of mistake that anyone could make. 

Whatever. 

He let Robin take the lead, mind and stomach churning. This had been such a weird day. First off, Victor had turned out to be not Victor, and also to be a total knockout babe. Then, Jay did like, a big hero thing promising to keep Danny safe and kissed his hand and—

His face burnt at the memory. Anyway, of course he was trying to find the guy. Anyone would want to secure a date. 

‘I am starting to wonder if he’s dead, though, and I just didn’t notice. The news articles about his death and also the headstone are pretty compelling evidence. Did I fail to notice he was dead?’

In past he would have said “fat fucking chance, I am an expert.” But, uh.

‘It’s not like I’ve never been fooled before. I thought Spectra was alive at first. And...’

He cut a look at Robin. Christ, his chest was expanding. Yeah, he was breathing. Danny wound fingers through his hair and pulled. Real. Human. Child. He grimaced.

 He was going to jail for like, ever. 

“I’m a disgrace to ectology and the afterlife,” he said mournfully.

Robin cut him a surprised look, movement sharp and aptly birdlike. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Danny dismissed. “Get the door open, it’s fine.”

“Like it’s that easy,” Robin muttered, but he went back to whatever arcane stuff he was doing. Because he was not a ghost, and couldn’t just phase through. Danny stuck his hands in his pockets, resigned to seeing how this played out.

It took Robin nearly ten minutes to disarm the security system, but he opened the door to the safe house gingerly. Nothing shot them. 

“Lemme go first,” Danny said, because he sort of still hoped that Batman wouldn’t break his fingers with a novelty bat-shaped hammer for this offense. He edged past Robin and into the apartment. He flicked on a light. “Oh, there he is,” Danny said, relieved.

Robin ducked in under his shoulder shockingly fast. “Jason?” He pulled up short. 

“Yeah, he’s out of it,” Danny agreed. Jason was slouched on the sofa, hand hanging over the side. He had some kind of road rash up the side of his face, scabbing up to his left ear. He had bandages around a hand and his neck. He had stripped down to the sleeveless undershirt and sports leggings. Unf. 

“Nice,” Danny said appreciatively.

“Is he dead?” Robin asked, sotto voice. 

Danny shrugged. “Not more dead than he was before?” He hedged. 

“….Are there quantifiable variations of being dead?” Robin asked. 

Shit. Danny went stiff. “No, finish your milk,” he snapped. 

“I’m… not drinking any milk.” 

Danny frowned, thrown off his groove.

Right. This wasn’t the neighbor’s kid he occasionally babysat. That tactic wouldn’t work to shut down unwanted questions. Or would it?

“Go get some, the kitchen is over there.” 

Robin stood still and looked very offended. That was good enough. Danny pushed past him to check Jason over a little more closely. He noticed a cheap flip phone on the floor near where his hand was dangling. He picked it up to see a message on the screen that said “serry I canf come but I call latert”. It was unsent. He checked. It was almost directed to his phone: Jason had gotten the last digit wrong.

“Aww,” Danny said, charmed. “He tried.” He snapped the phone shut and made sure the guy was breathing and not bleeding through his bandages or anything. Danny checked the color of his fingernails for oxygen discoloration, his heart rate, his pallor. He finished and stood back with his hands on his hips. 

“Well?” Robin snapped. 

Danny shrugged. “His blood is inside? I’m not a doctor yet and it’s not like there’s any equipment here. His pulse is fine, color looks good…” He scratched the back of his head. “I think he’s just sleeping off a concussion.” 

“A concussion?” Robin’s voice went high. 

Jason groaned, head lolling.

“He’s up!” Danny hovered off the ground. “Hey, you undead?” He poked at Jay’s chest gently. 

Jay batted at his hand, poorly. It didn’t connect. “Mm not dead anymore,” he complained, face scrunched up. “Joker’s not dead either. Leave me to suffer.” 

“…Do you want Joker dead?” Danny asked. He cocked his head to the side. “I think we can hide that.” There was nothing saying that a prisoner transferred to the Infinite Realms had to be kept there alive. In fact, it might be more convenient for Walker if the guy fit his usual prisoners’ general description. 

“We can not hide that,” Robin interrupted. Party pooper.

He cut a sideways glance at the child. Hmm. “Isn’t it your bedtime?” Danny asked casually. They needed to ditch him to get anything done. 

“It’s time for breakfast,” Robin snarked. “Look outside.” 

“…Do I have to feed you?” Danny asked, alarmed by the expanding nature of responsibility. He didn’t wait for a response, because it was obvious. When you cart around a child, you have to feed them at mealtimes. What did Jay even have in this kitchen? Danny wasn’t a particularly accomplished cook. He crossed the apartment in a panic to peer around the fridge. 

12 eggs, still within date. Uh… there was some butter in the fridge as well, and milk with two days left. He shook the carton. Basically full. Um…. He opened cupboards in search of carbs. Nothing. 

“Freezer,” Robin suggested. 

Danny checked. “I didn’t know you could freeze bread.” He turned it over in his hands dubiously. “Okay… toast and eggs.” 

Thank god he didn’t have any classes today. He was going to crash so hard once he’d finished everything important.

Jason didn’t react to anything they had said or done. Danny stuck his head out of the kitchenette to squint at him. The guy was still immobile on the sofa.

“Maybe breakfast is what he needs,” Danny decided, dubious. But that was a real thing! People need food to recover. Calories might help him.

Robin perched on the counter and watched Danny with a weird intensity. “I’m just melting butter in a warm pan,” Danny told him. Maybe the kid didn’t know how to cook. “Wanna help? Put the bread in the toaster.” 

Robin didn’t move. “You’d better do it.” 

…weird. 

Danny took out two slices of frozen bread and stuck them in the toaster. “It’s easy, bro,” he said, nonplussed. “Insert, and pull this lever down.” He demonstrated. “Check the time— I’ve got it for two minutes, it probably won’t be enough but we can check on it.” 

He turned back to the fry pan. The butter was bubbling now. He cracked two eggs in. It sizzled pleasantly. 

The sound helped him think things through. How was he going to do this? Skulker might fight to keep his new guest. And Walker- Danny grimaced. Walker had never really forgiven him for that prison break thing. 

‘I might need to lean on someone else’s authority,’ Danny mused. ‘Walker respects other cops. So I should, like, get that police guy to come and ask for the paperwork directly.’

It felt like no time at all until he scraped an egg off onto a piece of toast and handed it to Robin. He put the other on a plate and made one more toast and egg for Jay. 

Robin followed him to the living room,  toast in hand. 

“Go on, eat up.” Danny shoved his own toast into his mouth in one ghastly crunch. His cheeks stuck out as he began chewing on it. Then he plopped down on the floor next to Jay and started prodding his face again. “Hey. Hey.” Poke. “Breakfast.” 

Jay groaned. He unsuccessfully tried several times to bat Danny’s hand away, but eventually gave up and clutched the open-faced sandwich. 

“Gucky,” Danny said, observing the very odd way Jason was gripping the egg directly. Yolk leaked out under his middle finger. But he ate it, though, so it was fine. 

He turned on Robin when he remembered he was there. “Can you get home by yourself?” He asked. 

Robin looked at him with his creepy white eyes. “…No.” His wrist was flashing red. Was that like, a bird message system? Was it some kind of alarm going off because he had gone out of the acceptable Robin roaming range? Robin was pretending not to notice it.

Danny groaned and let his head rest against Jason’s leg. “Fine,” he complained. “Uh. I’ll take you home, then go move the Joker, get paperwork from Walker, and come back to give it to- what’s up?” He looked up through his bangs. Jason had grabbed onto his hair. 

“Joker?” He peeled an eye open. “No…” 

“You heard the man,” chirped Robin. “He doesn’t want you to interfere with the course of justice.”

Jason, Danny discovered, still had the egg yolk in his hand. He discovered this because Jason flung it dead center on Robin’s face. 

“Ha,” Danny said. The child was a downer, what could he say? “I think he wants me to interfere with the course of justice,” he parroted snootily. Even though that wasn’t at all what was going on. 

“Dangerous,” Jason said. He peeled one bloodshot eye open. He looked terrible.

“You look awful,” said Danny. “Lie down- no, don’t get up, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you,” Jason grunted. He waved a hand at Robin. “And this hallucination of my childhood innocence.”

“Actually-“

“Sh.” Robin rushed to get the door open. “Support his arm, will you?” 

“You still have an egg face,” Danny told him sulkily. He picked Jason up effortlessly. He ignored the muttered:

“I can fly?” 

from his passenger. “Come in, bird, we gotta get you home before someone murders me.” Danny jangled the keys and sunk down through the floor to make a point. Robin’s shouted “hey!” was muffled through the floor. Danny snickered and settled Jason in the passenger seat.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 33 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't wait to learn if Rose is going to have a younger brother or sister. Planning for the baby means planning for the future, but Bradley can feel that you're unhappy. With help from friends, he finally figures out why.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, vomiting

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You'd been quiet for days, chalking it up to exhaustion from work, but Bradley was a little concerned. He was missing out on a lot of cooking and cleaning at home, as well as responsibilities with Rose. Most days, he was collapsing in bed right after you, body tired and brain overworked. But he was close to advancing a few of his pilots to the next stage in their careers, and he didn't want to let up just yet.

Truthfully, he was enjoying many aspects of his day-to-day at work. He loved making decisions that would benefit his group. When he had a compelling answer for his superior officers, it made him feel so good about himself. He didn't even mind putting in the extra hours. But it was clear that Indigo wanted to be his class pet, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She was weighing on his mind a lot, most likely because she was constantly invading his office hours. He wanted to tell her she didn't have to try so hard to be the best aviator in the bunch when she just simply was the best one. But that would be feeding her ego, which probably wasn't the smartest option right now.

"Are you ready?"

Bradley looked up from his desk to see you standing there, and he jumped to his feet. "Of course I'm ready," replied with a smile, pushing all of his paperwork to the side and logging out of his computer. "Been looking forward to this."

You smiled softly, hand resting on the slight swell of your belly as you shifted your weight from one booted foot to the other. "Me too," you whispered, and Bradley grabbed his keys, wallet and phone from his desk drawer. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers between yours and headed out into the sunny October afternoon.

"Time for our final guesses," you said. "Do you think it's a boy or another girl?"

Bradley looked down at your face, the perfect curve of your cheek catching the sunlight. You were beautiful. Every bit as stunning as the day he first laid eyes on you in one of the classrooms he passed on a regular basis. "Sweetheart, if there's anything good or just in this world, it better be another girl. Then I'd have three of you to look at."

"Rose looks like you, Bradley!" you insisted immediately, breaking out in the biggest smile he'd seen on your face in weeks. 

"Rose looks like you. Everyone thinks so. She's adorable." He pulled you to a stop and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And her face already has this exact curve that I'm fucking obsessed with." 

Bradley let his lips linger, loving the way your cheek warmed as you stepped all the way into his embrace. You seemed on the verge of telling him something or asking a question, your posture never quite relaxing. He'd noticed that recently. Like you couldn't let yourself completely go with him like you always did. He wanted to ask you what was going on, but he was more than willing to wait until you were ready to say something on your own.

"We'll be late if we don't get a move on," you whispered. Bradley responded by kissing along your cheek to your lips. "I'm serious, Roo," you mumbled.

"Let's go," he sighed. "Dr. Morris already thinks I'm an idiot. I better not add tardiness to her list of complaints about me."

A short drive later, and the two of you were walking into the waiting room right on time. You barely sat down before a nurse was calling you back and handing you a hospital gown.

"It's weird without Rose here," you said as you got undressed. Bradley held out the gown for you to slip into, shaking his head.

"Nah. This is just for us. She can hear all about it later after work."

He was just about to close the distance to stop you from tying the gown closed so he could get another look at you, but Dr. Morris strolled in.

"How are we all doing?" she asked, shooting Bradley a look on her way past. It wasn't like he was capable of knocking you up again, but she was looking at him like he might have.

"Fantastic," he replied at the same time you said, "Okay."

He shot you a look as you eased yourself up on the table. He wasn't sure what he could do to make you happier. A conversation was clearly necessary now, but he didn't even know how to initiate it. If finding out more about the second Nugget today wasn't enough to make you smile, he didn't know what was.

He dropped down into the chair at your side, wrapping his big hand around yours as Dr. Morris spread that warm gel across your belly and asked you an array of questions. He listened to your answers as his heart beat a little faster. He was excited about this. Soon you could talk about baby names and nursery themes. He couldn't wait to meet his second child in the spring. 

Bradley kissed your fingertips, watching intently as your doctor isolated some ultrasound images. Then she asked, "Do you want to find out the sex?"

"Fuck yes," Bradley gasped, scooting his chair a little closer. "I mean, please."

You and Dr. Morris were both wearing smirks as he squeezed your hand. He was so excited, it was hard to swallow. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl. He felt the same way last time around, too. He just wanted a healthy kid he could dote on.

"It's a girl."

He was up out of his seat, sending the thing screeching across the floor as he hooted. Okay, so maybe he did have a bit of a preference for another daughter, but he would have been happy either way.

"Another girl!" he shouted while you smiled up at him. "Just me and my three beautiful girls."

Bradley let his lips collide with yours, kissing you until he got his fill. Dr. Morris and the rest of the ultrasound and everything else could just wait a few minutes while he soaked in this pure perfection.

----------------------------

Bradley had been inundating your text thread for days with links to various nursery themes, but meanwhile you and he hadn't even decided which room would be your second daughter's.

"A second daughter," you whispered at your desk. Your parents were excited; you got to watch your mom and dad cry over FaceTime. Rose was too young to care, but one day she might have an opinion about her sister. You, on the other hand, felt like a mixed bag of emotions.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But it was too hard. Somehow letting your sadness ebb and flow was easier. Especially whenever you ventured too far away from your lab or your office. Indigo was always around. It was like she knew were to find you. And perhaps she did. Your name was in the directories around base. But it felt like she was mocking you. She obviously wanted your husband, and he was either oblivious or hiding something.

When you managed to let your intrusive thoughts win out, you checked his phone only to find pretty much nothing untoward. Other than ruining the surprise of what was probably supposed to be an anniversary gift, all you found was one unanswered message Indigo sent to him a while ago. It bordered on flirtatious, and you were a little concerned that he gave her his phone number, but there was really nothing there.

But she was in your face on base enough that you kept to your office as much as you could. Of course, today was the day you were absolutely starving, and you left your lunch at home. You could pop down to the cafeteria, grab a sandwich to appease yourself and the baby, and then bring it back up here to eat it. Should be a piece of cake.

Hot turkey sandwiches were on the menu, and you almost cried tears of joy as you had one packed up in a container with extra gravy and a side of mashed potatoes. It smelled so good, you couldn't wait to take a bite. 

When you were waiting for the elevator, you froze with your lunch in your hands. You could see Indigo and Spice heading out of the cafeteria, and there was hardly anyone in the lobby for you to try to hide behind. You felt absolutely ridiculous as you stood there eavesdropping.

"What kind of progress have you made?" Spice asked, voice carrying over the sound of conversation around you.

Indigo smiled and laughed, showing off her perfect teeth. "Well, I can't give you details here, but... it's no wonder he's willing to spend so much time with me after hours. Anyone with eyes can see his wife let herself go this time around." Your cheeks burned as she added, "He's more than happy to help me with absolutely anything I need."

You sucked in a deep breath, certain she was talking about Bradley. And you. When the elevator arrived you ducked inside, jamming your finger against the button for your floor. As the doors slid shut, Indigo's gaze connected with yours, and she stood there proudly with her friend like she'd actually managed to steal Bradley from you.

A sob escaped your lips, and you tripped along to your office door. You really did look awful. Your skin was broken out, and you were going to need to start wearing the maternity tent well before your third trimester. Your belly was already tender, and then the baby decided this was the perfect moment to kick hard enough you thought you were going to wet your khakis.

"She's right," you whispered, tossing your lunch onto your desk and running for the bathroom. One glance in the mirror as you ran for an empty stall left you sobbing in the ladies' room. You looked awful. It was no wonder Bradley was paying extra attention to her. The fear that looking at Indigo had already turned into touching her was eating away at you. When you flushed the toilet, you turned and gagged before emptying the meager contents of your stomach into the bowl.

When you finally made it back to your office, your stomach couldn't handle a single bite of food. You dumped it in the trash.

-----------------------------

Bradley was just wrapping up a meeting with Maverick when Indigo cornered him outside his office. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. She was getting to be relentless.

As she shook her head slowly, she laughed. "I already told you, Sir, I can think of countless things you could help me with."

"Well why don't you run some of them past me?"

Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. "We could do that at the Hard Deck? I could still buy you that drink?"

Bradley sighed, hands planted on his hips which somehow drew her in closer. "I can't let any of you buy me drinks. Sorry, but that's not going to happen." He nodded toward his door. "But I have about fifteen minutes if there's something I can help you with."

She nodded. "Fifteen minutes would probably be more than enough, Sir."

Indigo stepped inside his office, glancing back at him over her shoulder, but Bradley saw another familiar face turn the corner in the hallway.

"Hey, there, hot shot," said Natasha, making Bradley smile. "You have a minute?"

"Actually, no," he replied, watching as his best friend looked inside to see who was waiting for him. She made a face, gaze snapping back to his. "Can it wait until later?"

Nat pressed her lips together like she was fighting off a scowl. "I wanted to see if you were free to workout with me later," she whispered. "I could stop by after dinner, and we could do some reps in your garage?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "See you around seven?"

"Yeah." 

She took one more look at Indigo before marching back the way she came, leaving Bradley with nothing to do but take a seat behind his desk.

"Do you want me to close the door?" Indigo asked, voice laced with hope as she half stood.

"Leave it," Bradley replied, once again showing no hint of favoritism. "Now, what did you want to talk about?"

----------------------------

After dinner, you excused yourself to Rose's nursery to feed her and make a phone call to your parents. Bradley kissed you on the forehead before doubling back to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. When he let you know Nat was coming over to workout in the garage, you seemed almost relieved.

He started setting up his weights and bench press when he heard the sound of a familiar engine pull up to the house. A minute later, Nat was strolling in wearing bright pink spandex with a matching gym bag. 

"I could spot you a mile away," he told her, and she chucked her bag at his chest. They both laughed when he caught it.

"You know what I can see a mile away?" she asked.

"What?"

"The word dumbass written across your forehead."

He rolled his eyes, dropping her bag onto one of the mats. Then he froze as he heard another engine pull up to a stop at his driveway. This one made him glare at Nat.

"Why is he here?" Bradley asked, and a split second later, Jake came strolling in like he owned the place. 

Nat and Jake shared a look as Jake tossed his gym bag next to hers. "I thought I might need some backup."

Now Bradley was annoyed and also confused. "Backup? For what?"

Natasha closed the distance to him, patting Bradley on the chest with a firm hand. Her dark eyes conveyed concern as she asked, "Are you fucking stupid? Or are you doing it on purpose?"

"Huh?"

"I love you, Bradley. I really do. But I still have to follow girl code."

"Nat, I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

The clanging of Jake adding weights to the bar made Bradley want to scream as Nat shook her head in pity.

"She wants in your pants," Jake drawled.

"Who?" Bradley asked, still unsure what they were even talking about.

"Your student with the crazy blue eyes!" Nat said, smacking him hard on the chest.

"Indigo?" Bradley asked, taking a step away from her. Both Nat and Jake were nodding as Bradley's brow creased. "She's like twenty-six years old."

"So?" Nat asked, hands planted on her hips.

"So, she's not trying to get in my pants. I'm married. Everyone knows I'm married."

Bradley held up his left hand, complete with wedding band. He rarely ever took it off, especially since it got him into hot water with you when he was deployed. But as he watched the band shine under the fluorescent lights, his lips parted wordlessly, and he stood there while both Nat and Jake scrutinized him.

If Indigo had been flirting with him this whole time, he'd written her off as an overzealous young pilot trying to prove herself. Now every interaction replayed through his mind, and he rubbed his palm over his eyes as he groaned. There was no way this was happening to him. He'd been alone with her on several occasions in his office. The door always remained open, but she'd pushed for him to close it.

Bradley's cheeks burned with mortification, and he wasn't sure he could even look Nat in the face. If Indigo really was trying to get in his pants, then he was a joke. He was an absolute joke, and none of the younger pilots took him seriously in his new role. That thought made him sick, but not as sick as the idea that maybe you'd noticed something as well.

Bradley swallowed hard. "Oh, fuck." When he swallowed again, he wanted to scream.

"Okay, there's my answer," Nat whispered, wrapping her fingers gently around his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. She pressed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank god you're just stupid. It would be so much worse if you were messing around with her intentionally."

"I'm not," he barked, angry at the insinuation. "I wouldn't. I've never even touched her!"

Nat's hands were on his chest, coaxing him to calm down, but he was too worked up. "Easy, Soul Sister," she said, but he was shaking his head now.

"I'm fucking married, Nat! I made wedding vows. I have a daughter, and my wife is pregnant with another girl. What the fuck would I cheat for? What's going to be better than this?"

Bradley's chest was heaving with ragged breaths as she guided him to sit on his bench. He landed hard, jostling the weights as he looked up at two sympathetic faces.

"Nothing's gonna be better than Angel," Jake drawled. "I'm still not sure if it was dumb luck or divine intervention, but she's way out of your league, Bradshaw."

"I know," Bradley snarled. "You think I don't know that? She's fucking perfect." He tilted his head back, blinking up at the lights. "Do you think she knows Indigo was trying to flirt with me?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied, and Bradley forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Yes, asshole," Jake added. "She's not stupid like you are."

"Fuck." Bradley stood and started pacing around. He felt like his job and marriage were suddenly on the line. He didn't know what to say to you that wouldn't potentially make things worse right now. If he could think of something reasonable, he'd run across the yard and back inside the house and say it to your face.

Maybe this was part of the reason you'd been so quiet? But it didn't make sense. He never talked about Indigo outside of the context of work, because there was simply nothing else to say. But after that night at the bar, you were really fucking mad at him. He thought you were mad that he got drunk, but maybe there was more to it.

"God damn it," he groaned, realizing Nat was lifting weights while Jake spotted her. "Do you think I should talk to Mav tomorrow?"

"Yes," they both replied in unison. The fact that they agreed on something was scary enough, but that let Bradley know just how fucked he was.

But he would take care of everything. He'd talk to Mav and figure it all out. What other choice did he have? 

"I'm heading inside," he murmured. "Can the two of you turn off the lights and lock up when you're done."

Bradley didn't wait for an answer. He was already walking across the backyard, craving your reassuring touch that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. When his phone vibrated in the pocket of his shorts, he pulled it out. He was met with another text from Indigo, but this time there was a photo as well. She was on the beach at sunset, the orange and pink sky somehow making her eyes look even more startlingly blue, and she was smiling at the camera. When his eyes slid down the screen to her cleavage, he almost dropped his phone. But not before he read the text.

This beach is so beautiful. Wish you were here.

Bradley couldn't decide what to do. Turn around and go back to the garage? Go inside the house? Sit down on Rose's jungle gym and cry? Smash his phone to bits? When another text appeared, he looked at it immediately.

Oops, I sent that to the wrong person. Have a good night, Sir.

Bradley squeezed his phone in his hand until he was afraid it might break. Then he opened a different text thread and pounded out a message, hitting send immediately. 

Mav, I need to talk to you about something important first thing in the morning.

When Bradley noticed movement, he looked up at the sliding glass door. You were carrying Rose around the living room, bouncing her in your arms as you yawned. Getting the Nugget ready for bed was supposed to be his job. He loved it. The bedtime stories and the snuggles were the best part. He needed to have this.

Finally he walked inside, sliding the door closed quietly behind him, trying not to panic. Rose was nearly asleep, but you let him take her into his arms. Bradley kissed her all over her sweet face before forfeiting her to her crib, then he climbed in bed with you. When he reached for your hand, you curled up against him, and he let his hand rest along your belly.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he whispered, heart aching. "I love my three girls."

-----------------------------

Start getting your shit together, Bradley. Indigo has shown she's relentless. Also, I thought I was solid on the baby's name, but I might put it to a vote. Stay tuned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 34

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