#is this cat hopping up or down the stairs

[rowarn]

NEIGHBORLY.

simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz

tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp

cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie

; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.

"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."

8.5k words

When your fiancé surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose. 

It was all so perfect – living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldn’t have been happier. 

Then the house next door sold. 

“You really have to give them away?” Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.

You laugh over your shoulder, “It’s the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!”

“They smell good…” Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.

His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, “After I get back from delivering these I’ll make a whole batch just for you, deal?”

He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, “Let’s get it over with.”

“You’re coming?” you ask, brows raised in surprise. 

“Of course,” he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet. 

You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest. 

You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex. 

“Maybe when we get back,” you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, “You can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?”

Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch.. 

His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.

“What?” he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.

“Just…” you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, “Stay here, okay? We don’t want to scare the new neighbors.”

“You implying I’m scary, love?” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.

“I’m not implying it, Si,” you grin, “Just stay here while I deliver these.”

“You’re the boss,” he sighs. 

True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell. 

You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before there’s a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open. 

Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you – probably the one who ran into the door. 

“Oh,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, “Can-can we help ye?”

The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, “You’re from next door.”

“Huh?!” The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, “We had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!”

“Are those for us?” he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.

“Oh!” you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, “I made you some cookies. They’re just plain chocolate chip, I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours. 

“So,” mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, “My name’s Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.”

“Nice to meet you,” you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.

“Kyle,” he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”

“Hey, don’t hog those for yourself, ye pig!” Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, “These are good.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like them,” you giggle, “You can return the tupperware whenever you’re ready.”

“So,” Soap hums before you can leave, “You’re pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.”

You bashfully lower your head and laugh, “I don’t think my fiance would appreciate that very much.” You gesture over your shoulder. 

Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, “Figures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.”

You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, “I’ll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!”

You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isn’t until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut. 

Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, “They liked the cookies.”

“Bet they did,” he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself – as you promised. 

The next time you see your neighbors, it’s just Kyle. You’re outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers. 

“Hey there, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls from behind. 

You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, “Oh hello, Kyle!”

“Doin’ some dirty work, are you?” he asks, eyeing the holes you’re carefully digging.

“Just getting started on my garden,” you explain, “What about you? Going for a run?”

“That’s right,” he nods, “May be on leave but gotta keep movin’ or I go crazy.”

“Leave?” you ask, sitting up straight in interest, “You’re in the military?”

His eyes light up as he nods, “That’s right. Soap and I both.” 

“You don’t live on base?” you ask, unable to hide your interest. 

“Nah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldn’t handle it anymore,” he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, “You interested in military men, love?” he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.

You laugh softly, “You could say that,” his brows raise in interest, “My fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.”

His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, “Right, your fiance.”

“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” you offer, “Simon doesn’t really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really like–”

“That’s alright, love,” Kyle says, smiling politely, “I’ve got a run to go on, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to meet him soon enough.”

“Alright,” you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight. 

You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets without looking away. 

“Hi baby!” you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, “I ran into Kyle outside!”

“Who?” he asks, barely showing any hint of interest. 

“One of the guys from next door!” you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, “Turns out they’re both in the military!”

“Is that right?” that finally gets his attention.

You nod, turning to look at him, “I offered to introduce you but I think they’re a little scared of you after all.”

He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, “Think they wanna fuck you, lovie.”

You swallow thickly and look up at him, “Th-They’re just flirts…”

He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, “Think I don’t know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.”

“S-Si, I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, “I was outside, remember?”

He scoffs, “What kinda man do you take me for?”

You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, “You can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.”

A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.

He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second you’re out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed. 

“You like keeping me waitin’, lovie?” he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, “Leavin’ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achin’, sweetheart.”

“Si…” you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, “I-I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh?” he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, “I like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.

“So sweet for me,” he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, “You’re this wet?”

Your cheeks burn in humiliation, “Sh-Shut up, don’t be mean.”

“Mean?” he asks incredulously, “You’re callin’ me mean while I’m playin’ with this pretty cunt?”

You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you. 

Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simon’s cock twitch in interest. 

The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can wait 

“Please, Si,” you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it. 

He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up. 

“Take it off,” you whine, making him pause. 

He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes you’re giving him has him huffing and obeying. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers. 

Once he’s finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before he’s pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You can’t do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth. 

He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat. 

You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.

“Oh, that feels so good, Si,” you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.

“I know, love,” he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, “I treat this little cunt just right, don’t I?”

“Uh-huh!” you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, “No one fucks me as good as you, Si.”

He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin. 

“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,” he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you. 

His next thrust isn’t as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.

“Simon!” you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.

“Fuck, look at that,” he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess you’re covering his cock in, “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, lovie.”

“You’re gonna make me cum!” you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.

“I know I am, sweetheart,” he grunts, teeth clenched, “Always make this pretty cunt cum don’t I?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, “Cumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!”

He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm. 

When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm – his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve. 

“Shit, I love you s’much,” he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, “My pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.”

Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, “Love you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.”

He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan. 

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, “Take it all.”

“Ah…Si…” you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out. 

“You alright, lovie?” he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, “You did so well.”

You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, “Never better. You’re so handsome.”

He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up  his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.

You hum, “I have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?”

He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.

One afternoon, there’s a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer. 

On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands. 

“Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, holding the box out, “Gaz and I loved ‘em.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.

“Somethin’ smells heavenly,” he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.

“I’m just making dinner,” you explain with a little shrug.

“Guess you’re one hell of a cook too, huh?” he compliments, a charming smile on his face.

���I get by,” you laugh.

“Say,” he says suddenly, “Is that big bastard really your fiance?”

You blink in surprise at his bold question, “Y-Yes..?” your response comes out more as a question. 

“Is that a problem?” a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you. 

You jump when Simon’s firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, “Si, you should be watching the stove.”

“You go ahead and finish up, lovie,” he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door. 

“Ah,” Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, “Simon was it?”

“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” Simon warns, “I’m not above putting you in your place.”

“Y-Yes sir,” Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, “I’ll be more mindful.”

“Get the hell off my porch,” Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs. 

Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, “Everything okay, Si? You weren’t too hard on him, were you?”

Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, “Who do you think I am?”

You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, “I don’t want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.”

He sighs, taking a seat across from you, “Alright, I’ll be nice, love. I promise. I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize for bein’ rude, will that make you happy?”

“Yes,” you smile, “They’re not too bad. They’re just…rambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! They’re just flirts.”

He nods, “They’re…interesting characters.”

The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door. 

“Oh, hello neighbor,” Kyle greets nervously, “Is there something you need?”

“Your friend,” Simon grunts, “I’d like to talk to him.”

Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, “Whatever he did, don’t mind him. He’s just an idiot.”

Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, “I wanted to apologize to him.”

“Oh!” Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, “Soap, door for you!”

Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, “Hello, sir.”

“Soap, right?” Simon says, “Listen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.”

“Ah, well,” Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, “I-I deserved it, I shouldn’t have said what I said either. Your relationship isn’t any of my business.”

Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, “Pretty, huh?”

“Sir?” Soap blinks in confusion.

Simon says your name, “Pretty little thing. Can’t blame you for makin’ eyes.”

“I…” Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, “W-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.”

Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows you’re bustling about inside, “You think they’re pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.”

Soap’s throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyle’s eyes practically bug out of his head at Simon’s words.

The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence. 

When Simon’s in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back. 

“What’s so funny, Si?” you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands – the second load from yesterday that you hadn’t had the chance to do.

“Nothin’, lovie,” he grins, sharp canines on display, “Let me help you with that.”

“Did you make up with the neighbors?” you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.

“I sure did,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room. 

You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day. 

Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You don’t see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down. 

You’re relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, you’d be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.

Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man. 

Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simon’s hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing. 

“Look so pretty like this,” he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.

You smile against his lips, “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet today.”

“I know,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, “You’re pretty without even havin’ to try, lovie.”

“You’re just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,” you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek. 

“Don’t gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?” he coos, “You’ll let me right between those thighs without even havin’ to ask.”

Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because he’s right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.

“You want somethin’ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, “Even with our little audience over there?”

He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but it’s clear they’ve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance. 

“Don’t care,” you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, “Knew you were filthy, don’t mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?”

You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him. 

“Good,” he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until you’re ready. 

Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until they’re covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.

“Relax, just like that, good,” he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them. 

Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers. 

He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you. 

You reach up to grab Simon’s wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction. 

“I want you, Si,” you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.

“Is that right?” he asks, raising a brow, “Is that pretty little pussy wet?”

You nod your head, “Want your tongue, Si.”

He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now don’t even bother hiding the fact they’re watching the two of you.

“Want me to eat you out right here?” he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.

“Don’t care about them,” you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldn’t say no to. 

Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed. 

“Look at you,” he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit. 

The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He can’t resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch. 

“Thaaaaat’s it, pretty,” he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, “Let us hear you.”

Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below. 

He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before he’s wrapping his lips around it again and sucking. 

The feeling makes your back arch and you can’t help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position you’ve chosen for yourself. 

Simon’s eyes are closed and there’s a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact you’re outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fiance’s tongue feels worshiping your clit. 

“Si!” you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. It’s so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it. 

He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste – a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, “You’re gonna make me cum, Si!”

He can’t even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but it’s barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue. 

Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks. 

He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths he’s gotten since he started. 

“Good?” he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.

You nod, breathless, “Take me inside and fuck me, please Si.”

He’s on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind – and the audience still on the porch next door. 

You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom. 

“Our neighbor’s a nosy little bastard,” he coos into your ear. 

You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasn’t watching and waiting to see what would happen next. 

“He’s waitin’ so patiently,” Simon says, “It’s only polite of us to give him somethin’ to look at.”

“Glad to see you’re finally being neighborly,” you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face. 

Simon’s fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.

“Fuck,” he coos, large hands cupping them, “Can’t believe I get to marry you some day.”

“We still need to pick a date,” you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple. 

He groans against your chest, “I’d marry you right fuckin’ now if you’d let me.”

You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and you’re facing the window – and Soap, who still stands there stunned. 

Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. 

You can’t stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this – it felt so dirty and wrong but that’s exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this. 

“You wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, “Somethin’ they’ll be fistin’ their cocks to later?”

“Yes, anything, Si,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Then get on your knees,” he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, “There you go. Just where you belong.”

He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness. 

A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin. 

His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper. 

When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down. 

He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue. 

When you’ve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him. 

He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. It’s everything – it’s messy and sloppy. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, too scared he’ll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest. 

“Fuck,” he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You can’t help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fiance’s thick cock.

“That’s it, lovie,” he huffs, “Touch that pretty cunt for me.”

Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants. 

“There you go,” he grunts, teeth gritted, “Cum on those fingers for me and I’ll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?”

You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes. 

Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth. 

With a final, deep groan, Simon’s balls draw up and his brows furrow before he’s spilling right down your throat – as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer. 

When he’s finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings. 

“Fuck,” he laughs breathlessly, “That little throat is dangerous.”

You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.

You never thought about how you would feel when you’d have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadn’t actually spoken to them face to face. 

“I invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,” Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.

You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, “You what?!”

“Saw them while I was out on my mornin’ run,” he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, “Thought I’d be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we haven’t yet.”

“Simon!” you cry out indignantly, “How am I supposed to face them!?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.

“Th-They’ve watched us do all sorts of shit!” you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.

“So?” he hums, “We’re all adults. You think they can’t act normal just ‘cause they’ve seen you with a cock down your throat?”

You let out a frustrated sound, “You’re so-!”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he croons, placing his empty cup down, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldn’t resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for. 

Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.

“I think we all know what we want,” he sighs, “So why don’t we cut the shit and get on with it.”

Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead. 

One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasn’t something you wanted to do. But you never did.

Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra. 

Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath. 

Soap follows Simon’s hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore. 

“What do you think?” Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss. 

“A fuckin’ dream,” Soap whispers, sounding like he’s in a daze. 

Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you. 

After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you don’t have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it. 

Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts. 

“Prettier up close…” Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him. 

Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely. 

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties. 

“Aren’t they so lucky?” Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, “Gettin’ to see you like this when only I should get to.”

“Si…” you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties. 

“What do you say, men?” Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.

“Thank you, sir,” both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you. 

Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so you’re completely bared – the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter. 

Simon’s fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fiance’s fingers. 

“There you go, lovie,” he coos, “Show them how wet you get for me.”

He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but it’s not enough – one finger would never be enough when you’ve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder. 

You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble. 

“Si!” you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm. 

“Yeah?” he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers. 

You’re unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe. 

Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simon’s strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simon’s fingers continue to fuck you through it until you’re gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue. 

He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You don’t even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down – coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers. 

“How are you boys enjoyin’ the show?” Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence. 

You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soap’s got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.

“Fuckin’ incredible, sir,” Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist. 

Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyle’s, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze. 

You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips. 

Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until you’re suddenly cumming around his cock.

“Shit!” Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm you’ve given yourself, “Cummin’ just from gettin’ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.”

You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving – fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure – an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you. 

His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. You’re not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning. 

Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips. 

“Shit…” Soap groans through his teeth, “Wish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlin’.”

You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simon’s cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you. 

As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, “Felt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?”

“Y-You are!” you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, “J-Just wanna cum, Si!”

Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at  how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it. 

It’s even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasn’t holding you tight against his chest by your throat, you’d certainly be slumping to the floor. 

Simon’s hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds. 

“Si, Si, Si–” you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, “Please, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Course I am,” Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it. 

That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end – spilling his load inside you without a second thought. 

You’re left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.

“You,” Kyle adds, “are one hell of a neighbor.”

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[januaryembrs]

NEARLY BROUGHT ME TO MY KNEES | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [2]

Description: FIVE times Spencer thinks he might like you + the ONE time he knows.

Word length: 20k

Trigger Warnings: death, murder, Lauren arc, spencer's addiction mentioned, Diana's schizophrenia mentioned, vomit, alcohol, blood, usual criminal mind warnings. mommy AND daddy issues in the prentiss family.

previous chpt | next chpt

‘so sweet with a mean streak

nearly brought me to my knees.’

The one where he tries flirting

Emily tutted at her as the girl blindly shoved the Lucky Charms in her mouth, her tongue staining a gross blue-green colour from the additives as she read from a battered copy of Anna Karenina. Bugsy had been living with her for just two weeks now, since her impromptu fleeing from the altar, and Emily’s certainly had a good insight into the life of the twenty three year old. 

Yes, it was her birthday next week. No, she didn’t act her age anymore than she had at twenty. 

“Bug, slow down.” Emily urged, a rogue orange marshmallow dribbling down her chin as she plunged the spoon in before she’d even swallowed the last mouthful, “You get sick when you eat too fast,” 

Bugsy waved her off with the utensil, not even ripping her eyes away from the page in front of her, scooping up the marshmallow with the side of her finger and popping it into her mouth. 

Emily rolled her eyes, downing a few sips of her coffee and heading for the stairs, knowing her ride would be here any moment and she still had yet to change her shirt from the one she’d spilled toothpaste down not ten minutes earlier. 

“Niko needs breakfast when you’re done,” The older of the two shouted down to the breakfast table, a streak of tabby grey running under her feet at the sound of food. Bugsy had insisted she bring her new feline friend into Emily’s apartment, and as much as she’d hated the way she nearly tripped over the chubby bastard almost every day they’d been here, she certainly had a fondness for him. 

Bugsy hummed in acknowledgement, though she scraped the edges of her bowl clean by the time the cat in question hopped up onto the counter in search of her leftover milk. 

“This is not for you, you have too much already,” She scolded, shovelling the last few sugary pieces of cereal into her mouth right as the door knocked. 

She dogeared her page, gulping down a quick sip of Emily’s coffee, cringing when she caught it was much too strong for her liking, and heading for the door, her sister yelling to her again. 

“Bug, can you get that- wait- are you wearing pants?” 

She certainly wasn’t, having rolled straight out of bed in a pyjama shirt and underwear, and towards the promise of breakfast, nor as she swung the front door to the apartment open before Emily had a chance to rush down the stairs.

Spencer could have laughed when he saw her, all too reminiscent of the first time he’d met her. The boxers that hugged her legs beneath a large top he was entirely convinced was not hers, though her face lit up in excitement to see him. 

“Good morning!” He thrust a coffee to-go into her hand, still warm even from where it had been jostled around in his car.

“You’re my saviour,” She grinned, sipping on the sweet beverage with bright eyes, “Cute sweater vest-” 

She was quickly manhandled behind the door by two firm hands, Emily’s face enraged as she glared down at her sister where she was now out of sight from the doctor. 

“What did I tell you about wearing pants? Huh? You nearly gave Mrs Jensen a heart attack last week,” Emily hissed, as Bugsy shrugged, remembering the look of horror the old woman across the hall had given her when she’d taken the trash out in a hoodie and booty shorts.

“It’s Spencer,” She poked her head around the door, despite Emily’s shoving, like she was taming a wild animal, “You don’t mind, do you?”

He shook his head, an amused and easy smile on his face as he watched the sisters bicker, not entirely unlike the way he and Emily tended to pick at one another. 

“Not at all; I agree pants are loathable,” And he wasn’t lying. He tried to go for looser fitting trousers or sweat pants, hating the way the tight fabrics restricted his legs, rubbed his skin, making him want to itch and squirm inside his body. 

“Don’t you start,” Emily pointed at him, huffing as she stepped out of the apartment, “You know she gets all worked up and weird on sugar,” 

“Hey, I’m the last person to deny someone a coffee,” He replied, and the two turned to head back to his car, not before he threw the younger woman a look over his shoulder and a wave. 

“Go save the world, kiddos.” She waved back, sipping her coffee indeed with bare legs that would have a nun blushing, “Curfews at nine, Doctor Reid, I expect both of you home for dinner!” She nudged the door closed with her hip before Niko could run out after Emily, and Spencer chuckled to himself, shaking his head. 

“See, told you,” Emily sniggered, rolling her eyes, “Weird,” 

Though that wasn’t quite the word he’d have used. 

–

A killer, so far as they had been able to profile from the four bodies, was targeting women he picked up in night clubs in Atlanta. Most of the team, except Derek, had outgrown the clubbing scene, though Spencer didn’t quite think he’d ever been in it to start with. They all went to O’Keeffe’s usually once a month or so for a quick drink, but it was not big on his list. 

Rossi, Reid and Derek stared at the puddle of blood on the sidewalk, wincing as Emily leaned over the balcony, the five story drop making her tug her lip in between her teeth. 

This woman must have been terrified by something, someone, to see this as a better way out. 

“Maybe she fought back,” Hotch speculated behind her, drawing her attention back to the cleaning equipment scattered over the floor, entirely different to the last three crime scenes where they had been arranged neatly into a triangle, “And when Becky fought back, his routine was compromised, cause he knew the police would respond,”

“Or she could have jumped,” Emily responded gravely, shaking her head at the carpet beneath her boots, “Her nervous system is pumping adrenaline, her fight or flight response kicks in?” Both were equally plausible options, but not ones they had time to entirely pick over. 

“He’s struck two Fridays in a row, and if his routine’s been interrupted, it might compel him to strike again,” Hotch said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brow furrowed deeper than it usually was. 

“It’s Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight,” Emily replied, her eyes sad, worried. 

“Take a look at the classes the Unsub might have taken, we need to generate a suspect pool as soon as possible,” Her boss ordered, and she nodded heading for the door before she stopped, looking at him with a grimace he didn’t quite understand, “What is it?”

“Bugs-my sister used to work as a shot girl in a club.” She said after a moment of thought, “She could smell a rat from a mile away; said most girls who work in bars get this sixth sense about guys with bad intentions, so they know when to cut them off earlier than most,” 

Emily looked at him for a moment, and he seemed troubled, hesitant as she was to even tease the idea to him, before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. 

“Call her in.” He said through an outbreath, gritting his teeth the way he did when he was in between a rock and a hard place. 

Rock being another girl murdered by tonight with a huge opportunity to catch the guy in the act missed. Hard place being a twenty-three year old risking her skin for his team for a third time. He hated the paperwork she brought him, hated the look on her face the day Spencer and Derek had dragged her out of that chapel bloodied and shaken even more. 

“But she wears a vest under her clothes, and she stays with Reid and Morgan,” He reasoned, “And just purely scouting; if the Unsub strikes, she gets out there like any other civilian.”

Emily nodded, her hand routing through her pockets for her phone already, “Couldn’t agree more,” She said, hitting the call button with a sigh. She just hoped this time her baby sister wouldn’t be making any drastic calls like throwing herself in the Unsub’s way. Though, Emily knew Spencer wouldn’t let her take another hit for him ever again. Not after the way he’d seemed so distraught the moment she’d been dragged from that room, his eyes all but glistening with tears when he’d seen her on the bed, bloodied and beaten for his sake. 

No, Emily could stake her life on the fact Reid would go down swinging before that ever happened to her again. 

-

“When you think about the nature of serial crimes, it’s amazing there aren’t more predators in clubs,” Spencer said, hoping the pretty girls he’d managed to snag into conversation didn’t hear the way his voice stuttered. This was so far out of his depth, the entire club atmosphere suffocating him worse than any tight pants ever could. The music was too loud, the heavy bass making him wince, the air was too close, too warm, the bodies that kept shoving past him made him want to shower for two hours straight and then wash his hands as well. He’d turned down the drink Derek had offered him, knowing the exact amount of bacteria that swarmed the ice behind the bar, on the rims of the glasses, on the taps- 

Spencer was more than overwhelmed. And talking to beautiful women was not helping his flushed demeanour whatsoever. 

“I mean, excessive amounts of alcohol, countless opportunities for date rape drugs, not to mention suprisingly risky behaviour being pursued,” He counted off, his satchel strapped tightly to his side, “All right, so who wants a flyer?” The three women turned their nose up in awkward smiles, the tallest pushing past him with little more than an outright scoff, the other girl following her like lost dogs, “Nobody? Okay, all right,” He said, his face crestfallen at their reaction, though he wasn’t so unused to it. Girls tended to react that way when he spoke, his entire high school career had been the same. Infact, the only girl other than his co-workers who ever bothered to listen when he spoke was-

“I’ll take one,” A voice came from behind him, the same one he had incidentally been thinking of since they’d left Emily’s apartment, and he could already tell she was smiling before he whipped around to see her slinking through the crowd. 

He was ready to retort something clever, but felt his words congeal in his throat. He had thought, that day when he’d stopped the elevator and seen her in a sodden wedding dress, that he had seen her at her most beautiful. Yes, her makeup had been tracking down her face with her tears, her hair sticking to her cheeks, her expression weepy. But she had reminded him of a star, glistening with the rain, the water shimmering off the snow white fabric, it had taken his breath away then, even when she’d thrown her arms over his shoulders, as if he was the only thing that she could grab on to for safety. 

But that dress was nothing like the one she wore now. 

It was nothing extravagant, and truthfully he’d seen at least ten girls in this club alone that had gone way more lavish than she had bothered to on such short notice. But, Spencer couldn’t help but take her whole image in as she shoved her way in front of him, an easy smile on her face. 

“Beats boxers and pyjama shirts, huh?” She twirled cheekily, warming under his gaze that blinked heavily at her. The dress had been an old thing she’d bought for a frat party, when she’d felt particularly sorry for herself and was going out looking for a bonehead jock to take home. It fit her nicely, complimented the areas she wanted it to, hid the others. A good fail safe option for a last minute night out like this. Covered the kevlar vest Hotch and Emily had wrangled her into.

Not her finest moment, being jumped on by her older sister as her boss forced the bullet jacket over her head; the new girl, Jordan, staring in discomfort as she’d cursed both of them out colourfully for ruining her outfit, but the way Spencer seemed to gulp heavily made her smile wider. 

“You look…” He swallowed again, his fingers digging into the flyers in his hand. Hot. She looked hot. Hot enough that he felt his face flush with the same feeling, he hoped she couldn’t see the way he blushed beneath the club lights, “Beautiful,” He settled on, because ‘hot’ was an entirely Derek word to use. 

“So you keep telling me,” Bugsy preened under his gaze, grinning like she knew something he didn’t. Grabbing one of the flyers from his sweaty palms gently, she took a look at the general sketch, not noticing the way he had yet to tear his eyes off her, “Alright, this the guy?” 

“Yeah, we think he has a mark of some sort- like a birthmark or a scar over his left eyebrow,” He informed, corralling her towards where Morgan stood, his own eyes widening at the girl’s attire. 

They knew she was coming to help scout the scene, they didn’t realise she’d come so ready. Derek immediately felt stupid for doubting her. 

“Woah, did someone call the fire department, because you’re about to set the damn sprinklers off,” He teased, her face lighting up at the man she knew had a way of making her feel a million bucks every time he saw her. 

Emily said he had little sisters of his own, and maybe that was how he knew just what to say. He had many years of experience being the best big brother. 

“Oh, please, you guys spoil me,” She snickered, though her eyes scanned the crowd for a general scope of the club. Safe to say she did not miss the eight pm till four am shifts she used to pull, nor did she miss the drunk bodies swaying around her, the men who would get handsy, the girls who would get scrappy, “So, how’s it going?” 

“Not good, I gave the profile to one woman and she asked if I was the unsub,” Spencer sighed, running a hand through his rogue curls, the humidity of the stuffy bar making them tighten around his ears just that bit more. “How are you doing?” 

“Well, I gave out all my flyers,” Derek said smugly, though Spencer’s eyebrows raised, a smile teasing at his lips. 

“Oh yeah? How many phone numbers did you get?” Bugsy snorted at his words, looking between the men with a smirk. 

“None, I’m working the case here, kids,” Derek tutted, to which Spencer and Bugsy looked at eachother with identical doubt, flicking their gaze back to Morgan. He huffed, “Okay, four were offered, but I didn’t take any of them.” 

Spencer’s jaw dropped, face scrunching in confusion how Morgan was so charismatic with women even when he wasn’t trying. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab more flyers from the van. You,” He clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “Need to relax, man. Remind me to teach you the basics on picking up girls. And you,” Derek pointed to where Bugsy nodded patiently, “Make sure wonder boy doesn’t get eaten alive. And stay together.” 

She nodded again, watching him leave through the crowd; already a woman grabbed on his arm for his attention, where she watched him politely decline with one of those flirty smoulders he’d mastered. 

“I don’t get how he does it. I mean, I get he has the whole body of a God thing going for him,” Spencer sighed, as the two of them went back out into the crowd, scanning for a group of girls who looked particularly sober enough to listen, “But, he just has this way, you know. I’ll don’t think I’ll ever have the way,” 

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” She chastised, nudging him affectionately with her elbow, “You’re very beautiful yourself, you know? You don’t need some stupid way, you just need to be yourself,” 

She said it as if it was nothing, as if it hadn’t just hit him in the chest that she thought he was attractive, though he still remembered that first day they’d met when she assumed he was a stripper. 

His heart swelled in his chest. 

“You really think so?” He asked unsure, waiting for her to laugh in his face and tell him it had just been a tease, she was good at those. But she was never cruel. Never to him. He didn’t know why he’d expected it. 

“Absolutely! I’ve seen like three girls already giving you goo-goo eyes. Believe me, you got the looks,” She simpers, watching his eyes scan the crowd to look for the supposed culprits. 

“So, what, it’s my personality they don't like?” He asked, though he knew that was more than likely the case. He’d always been told he buzzed in people’s ears like a fly, like he was simply background noise the greater population wanted to tune out. 

He knew that would be it. It didn’t stop the small stab of hurt in his stomach however. 

“If someone doesn’t like your personality, that is a them problem, Spencer, not you,” Bugsy was quick to snap, the joking lessening in her eyes as she caught his dejected expression, “Girls like it when you talk about something you enjoy, something you know what you’re talking about. Which should be easy, since you know everything. What do you feel most comfortable talking about?” 

“Statistics,” He said with a nod, to which she looked at him fondly.

“Okay, we have statistics as a backup option. Anything else?” She looked at him, the light bouncing off her eyes in a way that had him pause to think. 

“Magic?” He offered, and she smiled even wider, if that was even possible. 

“Magic! Perfect, girls love feeling magical,” She beamed, nudging him again with her elbow, and the two of them walked over to the bar, “Show me then, Gandalf. What moves would you pull on me if I was a girl?”

He blinked at her, “Are you … not a girl?” He asked, pure bewilderment on his face as he stole a few napkins from the counter. 

She snickered, “Okay, if I wasn’t me. If you didn’t know me,” 

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be way too nervous to even talk to you. And you definitely wouldn’t want to talk to me,” He said as he fiddled with the paper between his obnoxiously long fingers, folding the sheets into miniature shapes. 

She chuckled at him, shaking her head. It had never been like this with them before. Sure, she teased him, like she always had, but he was teasing back. Complimenting her with a seriousness beyond just being nice. 

Something was different in him since the day Cyrus dragged her away. And if that hadn’t done it, then seeing her every morning for two weeks had changed the boyish anxiety that had lingered even then. 

“Stop stalling and show me these tricks of yours,” She bit playfully, though the grin she gave him was genuine as she saw something mischievous flash in his eyes. 

“Patience is virtue, patience is virtue-” He murmured, fiddling with the short, plastic straws they kept at the bar, “Now for this to work, I’m going to need a beautiful assistant. Do you think you could find one for me-” 

She smacked his arm, and he snickered. She shook her head, fighting her own laugh overcoming her. 

Maybe she was right. Talking about something he loved made him feel entirely at ease, like he controlled every angle their conversation took, and the air between them had taken this odd electric turn he wasn’t expecting like someone had pumped a thousand volts under his skin.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He replied, holding out one of the straws, about as plain and simple as it would be if it were in a drink, “But I will need some magic words,”

“Ofcourse,” She drawled, her cheeks hurting from how tight she was smiling, “What are they?”

“Magic words are, ‘I’ll be there’” He instructed, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves as he watched her frown, and he pointed the straw at her mouth like a microphone, “You got it?” 

“Yep,” She responded, even though the confusion read clear as day on her face. He tapped the straw on her nose and cleared his throat. 

“3, 2, 1,” He tapped it to her temple, then to each of her shoulders, “Go on a date with me?” 

“I’ll be there,” She responded, and in a strobe of light the single instrument became a trio of origami roses, stuffed into the straws as stems. 

Her brain caught up to her as he gently placed them in her hand, her eyes gazing at him like he had just presented her with a 24 carat diamond, though in reality it was nothing more than a silly trick with napkins and plastic. 

“Spencer,” She said earnestly, and he could have sworn her voice quivered for a split second, before she shook her head at him, punching him on the hip gently, “You are the most humble man I’ve ever met. You do that to any other girl and you’re getting laid, I’m telling you,” 

He rubbed his chin bashfully, both of them catching the way the waitress behind the bar watched him with large, blue eyes Bugsy could have bathed in. She was gorgeous, and she stared at Spencer as if she’d been the one given roses. 

Attracted. Interested. 

“Talk to her,” Bugsy whisper-yelled, nodding over to the barmaid who busied herself with another order, though they both saw the way her flicking glances to the two of them as she scooped ice, “She would have seen if a guy like that frequented somewhere like here, talk to her,”

“What- no-” He protested, but his eyes widening as Bugsy leaned over the bar to flag the woman down with that playful charisma of hers, not missing the way a few heads turned as the dress tightened around her ass as she bent forward. 

He felt his chest flash with anger, glaring at the men, hoping it was enough to ward them off. Her hand enclosed around his wrist, drawing his attention back to the bartender who watched him with a sweet face. He had to admit she was attractive. 

“This is my very best friend, Spencer,” Bugsy told the woman, who smiled at him, and the Prentiss girl lifted his hand up to wave at her like he was a ragdoll, “Spencer, wanted to show you something, didn’t you, Spence?” 

Raising her eyebrows at him, nodding to the flyers in his hand. 

“I’m gonna go dance,” She fibbed, knowing she was going to go scout out the crowd to see if any guys fit the profile, nudging him a little harder than before, “Remember what we talked about. I’ll be by the DJ,” 

Grinning encouragingly, he watched her swoop into the crowd like it was second nature, not missing the collection of guys who watched her every move; she captured the room when she moved, when she smiled, when she politely excused herself past a group of girls that tried to pull her into their circle with friendly cheers. 

He did another one of his tricks for Austin, he’d come to learn was the name of the girl behind the bar, but it hadn’t felt the same, not even when she gave him her number unprompted, even as she flirted, smiled prettily, batted those sea blue eyes at him. It wasn’t the same. 

He worried for a moment that the electricity he’d felt was reserved only for Bugsy, but he squashed it down faster than he could confront the idea. 

2. The one where he nearly dies

“I don’t know how to do this,” JJ confessed, her bluebell eyes filled with tears as she stared out of her boss’ office and into the bullpen full of officers, scientists and even the damn military tearing through pages and pages of resources for answers. 

Anthrax. A weapon of mass destruction they’d already had a small dose of, was on the move through the BAU’s own city. And they each had strict instructions to not alert their loved ones. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Henry,” She whimpered through a strong facade as she turned to Hotch, and she saw the same guilt eating him up in those dark eyes of his that rarely let anything slip. 

He had Jack. He had Haley, even with the divorce papers signed so long ago. He had people at risk too. And yet she couldn’t stop seeing her precious little boy’s face as he lay back in his pushchair and enjoyed the sights of the park, the same park that had just been targeted with an airborne disease-

“He goes for a walk almost every single day at Potomac Park,” She sniffed, the nausea chewing away at her brain as she recounted the lesions on that poor teenage girls skin, that's going to be Henry, that’s going to be Will, “What type of mother am I if I don’t atleast call and tell them to stay home?” 

“JJ, we can’t,” Hotch said, though he felt his own dam start to tear down as he tried not to think of what could possibly happen to his own sweet son. 

“I know, but-” Her throat bobbed, “It-it’s not just me- Emily’s worried about Bugsy. She told me she cuts through the park on the way to her lectures- she has one every day this week- Hotch-”

It was true. She had caught Emily in her own turmoil as the woman sped off to grab a drink seconds after chugging down the dose of Cipro they’d all been given that morning. She’d caught her filling a glass of water until the liquid started leaking down the sides and went over her shaking fingers, and even then she’d had to tug her friend out of whatever rabbit hole the words ‘Media Blackout’ had sent her down. 

“I understand you both have people you want to protect,” Hotch was the voice of reason, as he always was, and it stung her to see his face so cold since she knew he was drowning his own sorrows behind it, “But if we all called home and used this information to give us an advantage other people don’t have, is that the right thing to do?” 

She bit her lip, knowing he was right. She just prayed on everything she had Will would stay home with Henry today, Haley would have a movie night with Jack, and for whatever she had seen in Emily’s eyes earlier, a pure, unadulterated self-loathing, that Bugsy at least took the day off teaching.

JJ prayed, and prayed, and prayed. 

–

She shuffled her notes together as she marked papers at her desk. They let her take the office to herself since she’d been at the University for five months now, gave her free reign of her lectures without having a supervisor like they had the first eight weeks or so. Bugsy enjoyed, surprising as it was to her, the feeling of somewhere that wasn’t the laboratory. Emily and Spencer had forced her to apply for jobs when they caught her binge watching real housewives for the sixth time back to back, of course lacking any bottoms. 

Emily didn’t know why she thought twenty-four year old Bugsy would be any different. They had thought at least that Derek holding her hair back on the night of her birthday party as she threw up copious amounts of jello shots on the sidewalk would be an eye opening moment, but it hadn’t deterred her in the slightest. She had just chucked a handful of gum in her mouth, patted the man on the back and asked Emily to hit up the drive thru on their way home. 

It wasn’t until she got the job did she feel a little bit more responsible, like what she was doing actually affected the people around her. Teaching first year college students was so very different than she’d expected, she was the authority figure. 

She could hear her mother laughing at her now. 

She almost smudged the little smiley face she’d drawn beside one of her student’s B+ as the phone rang on her desk, because she had an office phone believe it or not, and she cleared her throat, trying to sound as grown up as possible whilst also trying not to grin how excited she was to use her new landline. 

“Miss Prentiss speaking, who’s calling?” She said, almost not recognising herself as she squeezed her gel pen in delight. She had this grown up thing down to a tea.

“Hi, Bug.” Spencer’s voice sounded out of breath, and she heard his converse slapping against a linoleum floor fast, as if he was pacing, “I got a quick hypothetical to run through with you,” 

“Y-yeah, sure- Where are you?” She asked, her brows furrowing when he gave a wheezy cough, “Spence?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you, but I’m fine- for now,” He winced as he said the last part, as if it had slipped unintentionally, as if he knew what was coming next. He could practically hear her brain ticking over, “So, when you’re in the lab-”

“What do you mean for now?” She cut him off, standing up from her desk, already collecting her pencils back into their little pink case, “Where’s Emily? Is she okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“Everyone’s fine; as I was saying, hypothetically, when you’re in the lab where would you-” He talked over her right back, his slender fingers flicking through the piles of work, hoping he stumbled on a formula, a sticky note, a damn cheat sheet, anything. 

“Don’t avoid my question, Spencer,” She snapped, and she could already feel the worry lines on her forehead. 

He sighed, hoping she couldn’t hear the way his chest rattled and he choked down a cough. It would only make her worry more. 

“I promise I will tell you what’s going on if you just answer my question,” Spencer rushed, feeling his face growing sweaty, opening the entire cabinet of drawers. “Okay?”

She nodded, biting her nail, as she sat back down. “Okay fine, shoot,”

“Where would you put your valuable items if you didn’t trust your lab partner while the two of you were working together?” He asked, wiping his brow with his sleeve as he held the phone tight to his ear with his shoulder. 

She paused for a moment, “Well it’s standard practice that all jewellery comes off before we get scrubbed, so as not to contaminate anything. I usually put my scrunchie through my rings and tied it back into my hair so they wouldn’t get stolen. I knew some guys who put their watches around their ankles. Basically anywhere we could feel it on us,” 

He cleared his throat again, and she heard him take a few steps, “How’s grading papers going? Did you get a fax machine yet?” 

He was trying to change the subject, trying to take her mind off whatever it was he was doing that required such an urgent and peculiar question. 

“It’s going good, I miss you bringing me coffee; it was like I had a maid who helped me with my crosswords,” She said, biting her bottom lip squeezing her thumb in the middle of her fist to slow the nerves. He tried to pretend he wasn’t smiling hearing that. “Now tell me what’s wrong. Did you go running without your inhaler again? I told you to leave a spare at ours so I could rescue you if you ever-” 

“Bugsy, you’re a genius!” He cried, ignoring the way it made his throat burn, “Remind me to tell you every single day how smart you are- I have to go,” 

“Spence- Spencer-” She tried to cut in, but he had already put the phone down. 

So much for not worrying her, she thought, as she got on the phone to Emily within seconds. 

-

Bugsy all but burst through the hospital doors, apologising when she nearly knocked a stack of files from a nurse's hands, wishing she had an inhaler herself after she had ran all the way from the car park, including the three flights of stairs. 

After calling in sick the rest of the day, and practically volleying her rucksack into the passenger's seat of her car, she had blindly called Emily four more times until the woman answered with a frightened lilt to her voice. 

Spencer was headed to the hospital. Spencer was headed there on full blues with lungs full of an even deadlier strain of Anthrax. Last Emily had heard he was getting worse. Bugsy put her foot down on the pedal even harder. 

She knew the speeding ticket would come any day, and didn't even want to think about the state of her parking. All she cared about the second the lady at the desk had said what room he was in was seeing he was okay, that he wasn’t growing lesions or choking on his own blood or having half of his brain boiled alive. 

Bugsy felt a small spike of panic, if it could even get worse, as she yanked the curtain back to see him asleep, a cannula tucked into his nose, a hospital gown tied over his shoulders. 

Diving for his file that was attached to the end of his bed, she looked through his information to check what meds he’d been given. He once told her he was allergic to narcotics, said he had been since birth, and while she trusted one of the team to have passed the information on, she had to see it for herself that he was stable. 

No narcotics given. Only paracetamol for his fever that was rapidly coming down. She could breathe again. 

She jumped out of her skin when the curtain rail was pulled back a second time, and Derek seemed to startle for a moment too before a tired smile met his handsome face. 

“Where have you been, Baby Prentiss?” His breath knocked out of him when she threw herself at him, a sigh of relief coming from her bitten lips. 

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” She murmured, and his chuckle echoed through his chest into her ear, “You all worried me half to death,”

“You’re looking very grown up,” He teased as he patted her on the back. And she was. She had taken to wearing maxi skirts and tights, even throwing on a cute blazer for affect, she was the teacher after all. She shoved him away with a smack to the chest. He laughed, holding up the opened pot of jell-o to her face, “Jell-o?”

She gagged, filled with memories of her birthday. 

He shook his head with a smile as she sat down in the seat next to the bed and he spooned the first mouthful of the fruity dessert into his mouth. 

“Is everyone else alright?” She asked, wringing her hands together. She fought back the urge to tuck Spencer’s curls behind his ear, knowing he was sleeping peacefully.

“Stop worrying. Team’s fine; we caught the guy and confiscated his supply. Even saved the last few survivors with you telling Reid where to look,” Morgan watched her jaw feather, and she picked under her nails. 

“I keep telling you guys, I didn’t do anything. I just… spoke to him. He’s the genius, not me,” She said solemnly, staring into her lap with a frown. 

“Not to him. Whole journey back, before the aphasia kicked in, he kept telling paramedics to tell Doctor Kimura it was you who’d figured it out.” Derek said, but it seemed to make her sulk more. 

She said nothing, pulling out her book from her bag to continue reading as she waited for him to wake up, and Derek took it as a sign she was in no mood to talk, god forbid even take a compliment, and opened the magazine he’d grabbed from the cafeteria. 

–

Half an hour and another pot of pudding for Morgan later (she gagged again at the sweet strawberry smell of it), the pair of them sat in silence, reading their own materials when a very sleepy, doe eyed man looked up and frowned.

“Are you eating Jell-O?” Spencer asked, barely noticing the girl on the other side of the bed, who shot up out of her seat as he came around. 

“Hey doc. You have a visitor,” Morgan said with a small smile, Spencer’s face falling into a frown. He looked to the other side of him, just in time to see a worn copy of Middlemarch being flung to the floor and a hand grabbing his clammy ones tightly. 

“Spencer I’m- I’m so mad at you-” She gasped, every soppy feeling of sadness she’d been stewing in leaving her body when she saw his hazel eyes fall to her, “You put the phone down on me and next thing I know you’re in the back of an ambulance nearly flatlining- I’m so-” 

She breathed when she saw his eyes soften. He didn’t think she knew it but he saw the way her eyes glistened, her voice trembled underneath her anger. He felt the way she had yet to let go of his hand, how nice and warm it felt in his palm. 

“I’m sor-” He hadn’t even finished his apology when she had latched onto him, trying not to hug him too tight but hard enough she could tell herself he was still here. He was okay. 

And he could understand. He’d felt the same when they’d found her in that church, when Cyrus had hauled her away after she’d practically offered herself up in exchange for him. He’d known she was braver than she gave herself credit for, but that had stopped his heart right there and then. He had grabbed her in a hug the first chance he’d got even then, even when he barely knew her, when she was Emily’s sister and not Bugsy. Not the woman he’d spent every morning with for weeks bringing her a coffee just the way she enjoyed it, the woman he’d sat with on Emily’s couch with her legs across his lap as they did the puzzles in the morning paper together. She tried to do them, and he would finish them when she got too annoyed by the ones she couldn’t answer. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, his arms gently hugging her back and he felt something wet on his shoulder blade before he knew what it was. He felt even worse for worrying her, squeezing her tighter than was even comfortable for him. 

“Don’t do that to me again,” She said through tears as she settled in his arms. 

He really hoped she couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded. 

3. The one at Haley’s funeral

She had no idea what to say. Emily had always been the one who knew how to talk to people. She had this horrible habit of saying the first thing that came to her head, probably because a lot of the time it was the most real, and people liked real. 

But now wasn’t the time for what was best for her. Haley Hotchner had been murdered. 

She hadn’t spoken to Hotch yet, she’d only met the man a handful of times. But he’d invited her anyway, for the team. For Emily, maybe even Spencer; Emily said he liked when she was around. She couldn’t imagine any other reason she would be there. 

Other than, ofcourse, to be Spencer’s crutch. Literally. Since his real one had broken and he was still limping around with one knee weakened by the bullet wound in it. 

She’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d called from the hospital, again, though this time he’d waited until he’d gotten the all clear to tell her so she didn’t panic quite as much as last time. She’d cursed him out for being so reckless, and requested another week's sick pay to take care of him until he was able to actually walk. It was only a one year contract with the university anyway, she didn’t care if she missed a few days to make sure he was okay. 

“You look very handsome today,” She whispered to him as she hauled him out of the car, minding that he didn't hit his head on the ceiling. He gave her a small smile and tucked her own hair behind her ear seeing it come loose from its braid when she’d leaned down to grab him. 

“Just today?” He asked, and she finally smiled back. She’d been stuck in a bubble in the car; her and Emily both had. They had the same thinking face, he’d realised. 

“Just especially today,” She answered honestly, and he worked on adjusting his black jacket so she could hold onto him comfortably. She was quieter than usual. Feeble, almost. 

“Thankyou, you do too,” He replied, his face scrunching after a moment, “Look pretty I mean,” 

He leaned on her arm, looped it around hers as he tried to be the least amount of imposing as possible. That went about as well as you’d expect for a six foot one bag of bones. 

She gave up after just a few steps, moving his arm to wrap around her shoulder as she walked with him. To anyone else they would easily pass as a couple, especially as she squeezed him tightly to her when the men laid down Hayley’s coffin, and the service began. 

“W.S Gilbert wrote ‘It’s love that makes the world go around’ and if that’s true, then the world spun a little faster with Hayley in it.” Aaron began, his voice strong as his large hands gripped the eulogy like it would give him any comfort. She smiled softly, her eyes glued to the man who stood unmoving for his son, “Haley was my best friend since we were in high school. We certainly had our struggles but if there’s one thing we agreed on unconditionally, it was our love and our commitment to our son, Jack,” 

Bugsy smiled sadly when Jack looked to the floor bashfully. Glancing between the photo on top of the coffin, a beautiful blonde woman grinning back at her with brilliantly happy eyes and a soft face, she saw where he got most of his looks from. 

“Haley’s love for Jack was joyous, and fierce. That fierceness is why she isn’t here today. A mother’s love is an unrivalled force of nature, and we can all learn much from the way Haley lived her life. Haley’s death causes each of us to stop and take stock of our lives. To measure who we are and who we’ve become.” She felt Spencer’s head knock into hers, felt the sniff run through him, and she searched her pocket for a tissue, “I don’t have all those answers for myself, but I know who Haley was. She was the woman who died protecting the child we brought into this world together; and I will make sure Jack grows up knowing who his mother was. And how she loved and protected him. And how much I loved her.” 

If Haley were here today she would tell us not to mourn her death. She would tell us-” Aaron cut himself off with a watery voice, his resolve finally melting as he realised this would be some of his final words to his wife. Bugsy felt her bottom lip quiver in remorse, “She would tell us to love our families unconditionally. And to hold them close because in the end they are all that matter.” 

Spencer felt her tug him closer as she hid the lone few tears from the rest of the mourners and wished more than ever he could press a small kiss to her brow.

–

No, Bugsy was not good with knowing what to say and when. Wasn’t good at cheering people up no matter how much Spencer told her she always made him feel better. Didn’t really know much about how to make someone understand that she cared other than showing them with her whole body. 

So by the time it was her turn to offer condolences, she didn’t bother shaking his hand. That meant nothing to her. That was a business deal, that was an agreement, a formal way to pretend you cared. But she did, she felt terrible for Hotch, wanted to fix him and his sweet son until Haley was right back there to thank her. 

She didn’t shake his hand like everyone else had. He held his hand out for one, his eyes soft and warm, like he could see she was struggling. She brushed past his hand and just pulled him in for a hug, and he wondered if she was always going to greet him that way. 

“I guessed that sorry wouldn’t make anything better so I brought you the biggest bottle of wine the store had,” She murmured into his chest, and she was gobsmacked to hear him chuckle weakly. She felt his hands pat her on the back gently, and he appreciated her candour. “I’ve got some Xanax if you’d really like a treat,” 

She was a breath of fresh air. Aaron truthfully had been sick of people saying they were so sorry for his loss, and he felt like shaking them and yelling, screaming that they hadn’t been the one to kill Haley, Foyet had. 

He pushed all of it down, focusing on the way she’d tucked herself to him like she had the day she’d become a runaway bride dripping rainwater over his bureau floor. 

“She would have really liked you,” Aaron confessed, and they finally parted, and she saw he was smiling like he meant it, not just saying it to make her feel more comfortable being here. “You would have made her laugh,”

He saw the easy expression on her face fade, and she turned to look at her heels, nodding quietly. 

“I would have been lucky to have known her,” She said, handing him the gift bag with a very heavy present inside. “I only wish someone would ever love me the way you love her,’ 

And with that she bid him a smile, and returned to her seat in between Emily and JJ, the pair of them mother henning her all day.

Aaron wished he could have said more to her after that, but before he knew it, someone else was offering him their condolences, and the sadness in her voice was forgotten.

–

The team sat around the table, nursing their beers, or in Spencer and Bugsy’s case a tea. Spencer didn’t want to affect his healing process with alcohol, not that he’d ever been big on the stuff, and Bug said she struggled driving even without the help of a beer, so they chatted between sips from two very fancy china cups. 

Emily and JJ sat to the other side of her talking about how beautiful the flower arrangements were when a small, fawn haired body came wandering over to where Will held a one year old Henry on his knee. 

“Would he like to play?” Jack asked shyly, trying to peer up onto the adults table to see if there were any other kids his age that would like to do something with him. His dad had been busy talking to all those people, and auntie Jessica had been trying to make it round to every table to thank people for being here. He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, in all honesty.

“He’s still a little too small yet honey. In a year or so, you guys can be best friends,” JJ said sweetly as he pulled his chin up to the tabletop and spied the younger woman sitting next to uncle Spencer.

He tottered over to her, where she sat unaware she had a shadow until Spencer's face softened as he looked behind her, and she swivelled around in her seat. 

“Hello,” Jack said quietly, looking up at where she seemed to buffer, feeling eight pairs of eyes on her as she interacted with the small boy.

She had never been good with children, had never been around them since she was their age, even the kids she taught now were all at least eighteen. 

The mantra to absolutely not fuck up the next few moments reverberated around her head. 

She gave him a soft smile, holding out a hand for him to shake, “Hi, Jack. I’m Emily’s sister. You can call me Bugsy,”

His tiny nose scrunched as he watched her, shaking her hand the way dad had shown him how. 

“Bugsy? That’s a weird name,” He said, and she chuckled, “Like the bunny?”

She shrugged, “I guess like the bunny, yeah,” although she had never thought of that before. 

“Would you like to play with me?” Jack asked, and she felt her chest warm unnaturally. He had such a sweet face. It was just like the woman in the picture.

Smiling at him crookedly, she rooted around her bag for the notebook and pens she kept for her to-do lists. Maybe Spencer was rubbing off on her. 

“We could do some drawing if you want?” She offered, showing him the pad with kind eyes. That seemed to satiate him as he grabbed her knee and started pulling himself up to sit in her lap, and she paused. 

Kids were so funny, she realised, she would never just start grabbing someone she just met and asking to climb on their lap. 

She got him comfortable on her knee, not noticing the flashing glances Spencer gave her between his conversation with Kevin, Garcia’s beau, as Jack started drawing a bunny with a human face, that was supposedly meant to be her. 

Spencer watched her giggle as he gave the rabbit a pretty dress, like the one she was wearing, and Spencer had to admit it was a pretty dress she’d gone for today. Had he not been so mournful earlier he thinks he would have blushed how tight she’d held him. 

She showed him how to play noughts and crosses, and she let him win most of them, laughing when he asked to tear out the page from her notebook to show his dad later. 

That is, until the man himself came over to the table of his work colleagues, only to see the group watching their youngest playing with his sweet son. 

“Bugsy,” Hotch said, and her head shot up to him, a guilty look passing over her face, worried she’d overstepped, though the fact he hadn’t said her real name said otherwise, “Can I talk to you for a moment outside, please?”

She blinked, straightening in her seat “O-ofcourse!” Shuffling Jack off her lap as fast as she could without hurting him, smoothing out her dress down as she followed him to the small balcony the funeral home had. It was a classy manor, but she guessed Hotch would have only had the best for Haley. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Jack asked to sit on my lap- and- I’m not good with kids anyway I just didn’t want to tell him no, especially not today-” He put his hand on her shoulder to shut her up, a small smile spreading on his face. It was fatherly and calming, something her own father had been much too busy to ever bother with.  

“Not at all, that’s not why I called you out here,” He reassured, squeezing her gently as he leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the midnight air, and he felt his professional mask begin to slip. “I’ve been thinking… about how much help you've been to us over the years. Reid would be dead if it wasn’t for you.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he flashed her a look that said he was serious. “Let me finish,”

She wrung her hands guiltily, “Sorry,” 

“You’re very resilient far beyond your years, you’re incredibly charismatic when you need to be, and you’re by far one of the smartest people your age,” He said, watching her face to see how she felt. He knew she didn’t take compliments well, for some other reason they could dig into any other day. But he needed to say it now, needed her to know now for what he was about to ask her. 

“Whether that is true or not, why are you telling me this?” She asked politely, without the usual bite that went with it when they tried calling her something she wasn’t. 

“I need to take some time off to spend with Jack, try and help him…” He trailed off, unsure as to what he wanted to say. “Help him understand Haley’s not coming home,”

She nodded with a glistening lash line, and grabbed onto his arm gently.

“My team looks to me to be their glue, but I know I can’t keep everyone together and look after my son. Emily said your contract at the University was ending,” He cleared his throat, looking at her again with something vulnerable in his sable black eyes, “So I was wondering if you would reconsider the FBI academy? It’s only twenty weeks, but Rossi and I can put you forward to do the written exams earlier if you’d like, and then Strauss can have you assigned a trainee position at the BAU-” 

“Anything,” She nodded, “Anything you need, I’ll do it,” and he hugged her for once. Maybe it was the way she had said it so willingly, no matter her own reservations about joining the academy, no matter her stubbornness and resistance to her sisters pestering, or even the fact they all talked weekly about how much easier their job would be if she was there. Her and Reid’s brains together were a force to be reckoned with. 

And he knew, the surprisingly kind girl that clutched at him back, would keep his team together, would be the glue to keep their heads on while he took some time to watch his son. 

“Thankyou,” He murmured into her hair, and she forced herself not to get weepy at the grief in his voice. Of all people here, she was the last person who should be allowed to cry. Least of all to him. 

He pulled away from her eventually, cursing himself for letting the front slip, but it was as if she had that effect on everyone on the team, like she had this little way of worming her way between that gap in their chests where their hearts once were before they’d seen the things they had, dealt with the people they had. 

It was for that reason Aaron knew they would be just fine. 

“You know, when I was a kid, mom got letters every day from people with their own agendas against her,” Bugsy said once they’d taken a gulp of cool night air, “They all said the same thing; that they were going to take me for ransom unless she left the country. She didn’t think much of it until a guy started following the car home from school and she decided to get me trained in self defence,” 

Hotch frowned, his chest tightening. He knew how it felt to be a parent on edge for his kid’s safety, but to hear it from the other side cut deeper. 

“Which was fine, I got a pretty mean shot if I say so myself, but eventually it progressed into hostage training, in case…” She swallowed dryly, clearing her throat and picking her nails, “I wet the bed the first time they grabbed me, the whole idea was that I wouldn’t know it was coming. They let me go pretty fast, I don’t think they’d expected the eleven year old to reach for the kitchen knife,” 

Hotch scoffed, shaking his head in horror, though he didn’t doubt her for a second. 

“I slept with it next to my bed for a year, so that next time they came for me, they would think twice and let me sleep in,” She said with a thoughtful smile.

“And did it work?” He asked, watching her run her hands along the stone wall beneath his  elbow. 

“I dunno, but the one guy left pretty quick when I almost took his eye out,” She giggled, and the sound made him laugh quietly as well, “My point is, you’ve got nothing to worry about with Jack. Kids like us, we get made tougher, resilient. And with parents like you two, I’d say he had a pretty good head start.” Bugs said, smiling to herself flicking a glance up to his face that said just how touched he was. Deciding he was likely waiting for her to turn around before he let himself cry, she took a step back, heading towards the reception. “I mean look at me, I turned out alright!” 

She barely heard his small chuckle that faded into a weep before she shut the door behind her, heading back over to the table where the team sat, Jack now with his auntie Jessica, and their eyes fell on her, waiting to hear whatever it was she had to say. 

Taking a deep breath, she gave them an awkward smile, “Guess I’m joining the academy afterall,” 

And that was all she got out before Garcia dived on her with an excited cuddle. 

4. The one with his new hair

He knew he was sweeping his fingers through his hair much more often than usual, his hazel eyes flickering to his reflection in car doors in a way that was almost obsessive. He liked what his barber had done, but that wasn’t the point. 

He was hoping she liked it. 

Bugsy had passed the academy with flying colours, not that anyone had ever doubted her, and had been part of the team for all of two weeks, though he would argue she was BAU way before that. Hotch had figured out a staggered schedule where he could take care of Jack four days a week and work the rest until Jack settled back in at school. 

It had been nearly five months since Haley had died, but it hadn’t gotten any easier for the boy. 

Spencer definitely, definitely hadn’t spent the last two weeks practically breathing down her neck whenever they went out into the field, nor had he definitely not found himself fighting off the grin that threatened his composure when he caught her scribbling notes down to herself whilst Penelope presented the cases. 

And he most definitely hadn’t gone out to get a new hair cut in the hopes she would find him more attractive. 

Definitely not.

And yet, her face was the first one he found himself looking at as he stepped into the office, watching as it trailed up from her notebook, her pink gel pen paused mid sentence as the rest of the team went silent, her face spitting into a grin the minute she saw him. 

“What, did you join a boyband?” Hotch asked in a rare moment of teasing, Derek snickering as Emily nudged his arm with her own chuckle. 

“Can I be your groupie?” Bugsy asked, which made them laugh harder, though she stared at him with a small twinkle in her eye the way she always did when he squirmed under her compliments. 

He hadn’t thought she was being mean, not even when they took a moment to settle down, not even when she smiled wryly at him, her eyes flicking up to his hair twice more before her attention was stolen back by Garcia switching the board. 

“Okay, so what are we looking at here? Late twenties, early thirties?” Emily asked after they quietened, adjusting her bangs over her brows. 

“All single, though two are in committed relationships,” Rossi added, flicking through his own pack of notes. “All living on their own,” 

“Looks like normal suburban houses. Give the Unsub privacy,” Morgan added, his face scrunched in disgust as he looked at the crime scene photos. 

“The differences are more striking than the similarities. Different hair colours, different body shapes.” Reid noted, Bugsy’s handwriting scrawling over her notebook as she tried to capture everything they were saying. 

“What do we know about his MO?” Hotch asked JJ, the blonde woman shaking her head with a grimace. 

“That’s why we were invited in, the abduction sites are pristine,” She said gravely, looking between her team as they seemed to balk at the information. 

“No DNA besides the victims, and there’s no sign of forced entry or struggle,” Bugsy noted in the pack Garcia had given her that morning, along with a little pat to the head for good luck. Before now, in those two weeks, they had only dealt with one kidnapping and one group homicide that had turned out to be one very stupid teen spiking drinks at a pool party. This case would be the worst one she’d seen yet. 

“And the victims aren’t reported until two or three days after they’re abducted,” Emily tailed off the end of her sister, her eyes serious as the team came to the same conclusion. 

He had days to spend as much time with the bodies as he wanted. 

“Two or three days? Women like this don’t just disappear without somebody noticing,” Rossi chimed in again, as JJ clicked onto the next screen handing the remote to Garcia. 

“Yes, which is why I had Garcia dig into their lives a little,” She said, taking a seat next to Hotch to let penelope lead. 

“And I took a look at their online activity, I could easily see what the Unsub was doing,” Penelope said, clicking onto a screen full of the women’s profiles. 

Bugsy couldn’t even say she was shocked. Ever since she was in highschool, friendships, or her lack thereof, had been entirely decided on who had the most likes on their status update. Apparently no one found the girl who read Russian Literature for fun cool, nor did they want anything to do with her. Emily didn’t know she’d sat in the school toilets to eat her lunch for three years straight. Turns out kids from every country were bitches. 

“Social Media profiles?” Her older sister asked, though the surprise was evident on her face atleast. 

“Yeah, facebook, twitter, you name an online life-sharing time suck, these victims were on it,” Penelope said, enlarging the screen for the team to see the specifics, “And if you look at each of their last posts, they say kind of the same thing, ‘Going out of town, Going on a business trip, Going on vacation,’ but when you look at the time and date stamps on each of these, queue the twilight zone music because they were all posted the morning after each of them went missing,”

“The unsub posted them?” Hotch concluded, his natural frown deepening. This Unsub had a way to keep all of his victims hidden for much longer than they’d anticipated. Who knows what he could be doing as they spoke. 

“You know, social networks are an easy way for an unsub to target his victims. These women were especially open, they posted everything from what they had for dinner to where they were going on dates,” Spencer said, looking at the print outs Pen had handed to them. 

“The unsub ‘Friends’ his victim, and then uses it as a cover once he takes them,” Derek said, as Bugsy’s face scrunched in disagreement. 

“What are you thinking, Kiddo?” Rossi asked from her left, as he head shot up to see the team watching her, waiting for her input. 

Surprising to everyone, she was somewhat nervous when she’d started at the BAU. The Bugsy Prentiss, the woman who had caught out parts of the Russian Mob when she was just a college student, was nervous to not mess up in front of them. 

“I understand what Derek’s saying, but nowadays you don’t actually have to be friends with someone to follow them.” She said, picking her fingertips in thought, “A lot of people have hundreds of total strangers they’ve never met on their page; some settings mean you don’t even need to be ‘friends’ in the first place to see what they're posting. The UnSub probably wouldn’t even bother implicating himself in the first place by following them, he could just access their profile and see what they're up to. I think he profiles as patient and organised, and somewhat tech savvy if he’s up to date on the way these medias work,” 

The team watched her carefully, Spencer beating down the proud smile he wanted to flash her, knowing he needed to be focused on this case, but she seemed satisfied with her answer when Penelope nodded in agreement.

“So you don’t think he’s an old guy like me, is what you’re saying?” Derek asked with aghast, knowing full well mid thirties wasn’t too old. Hadn’t stopped his pride hurting. 

She shook her head, “I just think he wouldn’t be as old as you. Mine and Reid’s age maybe. But he seems obsessive, and he also must have a job that affords him the spare time to spend the following few days with the bodies, but it means we should also assume that these women are likely already dead,”

She looked to Hotch hopefully, to see him staring at her unreadably for a moment, before he looked to Rossi with a nod. 

David slapped her on the shoulder affectionately, “You just put together your first profile, kid,” 

And before long, they were heading for the jet with her deductions in mind to hand over to the cops. 

–

“Can someone explain to me the appeal of these sites? ‘Eating sushi tonight, yum!’ ‘Boss is keeping me late at work, grr,’” Rossi stared at the status updates, perplexed, as the team snickered to themselves. 

“Now, wait a minute. How did you find my profile?” Bugsy asked jokingly, and she drew a fond smile from Aaron her way when Rossi chuckled to himself. 

He wished she would stop looking so nervous to contribute. She fit right in with the furniture. 

“Whose life is so important that we’d be interested in this kind of detail?” Rossi asked seriously, though Bugsy supposed even the coffee machine was a new useless piece of technology to the man who liked his espresso fresh. 

“That’s just it, no one is. I guess everyone just wanted to believe it to themselves that they all have an audience out there waiting to hear every update of their day. Some of them even have GPS tracking systems in place to make it even easier for people to find out exactly where you are,” Bugsy said, her eyes flicking to Spencer who watched her intently, automatically floating up to take in his new hair again. 

She couldn’t help think he had stopped looking cute, and started looking hot. He’d always been cute, god knows she’d always thought he was good looking. But now he looked… dreamy. It had made her double take the minute he’d walked through the door, hoping it wasn’t too obvious she was staring. 

“That explains how he’s finding them, but it doesn’t tell us how he’s getting into their houses,” Hotch nodded along with her, eying her carefully as she looked through her own notes she’d made once she’d brought herself round to ripping her eyes off Reid. 

“At the very least I believe he has copies of their keys,” Spencer said, his finger trailing the information in his file, “Doris Archer had a home security system installed, but the disable code was entered at 1:56am, so he knew that too. He also found a way to deal with her dog, a German Shepard she adopted from the pound last year, it went missing the night she did,” 

“Did they find the dog?” Bugsy asked, her face in a frown as Emily looked up to her.

“Why? What are you thinking?” She asked her little sister who played with the ‘TRAINEE’ lanyard around her neck. 

“If he hurt the dog, it likely meant the dog had been on alert to him as an intruder, since opportunistic violence isn’t in his profile of being collected and organised. So if he didn’t hurt the dog, and he was found alive and unharmed, it means the dog knew him,” Bugsy explained, and Derek stroked his face in thought. 

“This guy’s gotta be in and out of the house well before the night of the disappearance. He comes up with some ruse, talks his way inside, and then once he’s familiar enough with the house he knows he can come back and kidnap them without disturbing anything,” He said, the girl nodding in agreement with him.

“Think of people you let into your home you don’t consider a threat. Home repair guys, dog walkers?” Rossi offered, but JJ was quick to flick to her own pack. 

“Detective Fordham looked into that too. No one came even close to being a killer,” She shut down, not wanting to waste their time running through avenues that had already been explored. 

“Alright,” Hotch started as he glanced at his watch to see they were landing in around ten minutes, “Morgan and Prentiss, start with the last abduction site, see if anything points to his MO.” 

Bugsy raised her hand politely, as if she were still in class, and he nodded in her direction to speak, “Do you mean as in me when you say Prentiss or as in Emily when you say Prentiss?” She asked, and Emily seemed to be having the same issue as she flicked a glance between the two of them.

“I mean Emily, for you I guess I’ll have to say-” But he stopped himself with a frown. What would he say? Bugsy? No, too informal on a case. Baby Prentiss? Absolutely not. He thinks she might just hit him if he said her first name too much. “We’ll workshop it for now. Dave, you, Prentiss, Reid and JJ go back over the women’s lives. Start with asking around their friends on the sites. If this is how the Unsub is finding them, maybe they’re connected to him without even realising.” 

The team was quiet for a moment, before Spencer pointed to Bugsy with his pen, “So that time you meant Bug, right?”

Dave wished he could protest but he had also been a bit confused, as Hotch rubbed his head tenderly. 

He felt the headache coming already. 

–

“What was it about these women that made him choose them as targets?” Bugsy asked as she and Spencer sat in a small room in the Boise precinct, the three victims' profile pictures staring back at them from the board. 

It was their second day working on the case, and other than Garcia tracking a very disturbing snuff film of the last murder being streamed from the victim’s own IP address using camera’s he’d set up in the home, they had yet to have a big breakthrough. Hotch had told her to leave the room when they’d shown the footage, knowing it was one of her first weeks on the case, and despite having a strong stomach, he wanted her to ease into the role rather than drop her in the deep end head first. 

Even seasoned agents like Morgan and Rossi had both winced, JJ even gagging as they watched it happen. They usually dealt with the aftermath, not have front row seats on the act itself. 

She had been allowed in once the tape had finished, but Reid had immediately shuffled her into the small office they’d been permitted to use by the Boise police, his face a little more peaky than usual.

She wished he wouldn’t worry so much about her, wished he would hide it better when he fretted over her. She was sure he would burst a vessel if he kept flicking his head to look at her, though she just sat staring at the women as if the answer would jump out at her. 

“They’re all pretty, aren’t they?” Bugsy said, swinging her legs beneath the table, her eyes roving over the three faces, “Though unconventionally, they’re still pretty.”

They weren’t his type, Spencer thought, they looked almost nothing like her. She had removed the last of the pink hair dye she’d managed to keep on top of for a year or so before she’d started at the university. Her nose piercing had progressed to a little thin silver hoop, though her earrings had been dialled down for safety reasons in the field, and she kept her hair tied back away from her face most days. She looked older, which was a dumb thing to think, since of course she was older. But she had grown into her face, and Spencer was entirely convinced she took after her father since the only thing she shared with Emily was the same pout when she thought too hard. 

He’d watched her grow for all of three years into the twenty five year old that sat before him, and yet her face had never really changed shape. She still had those pretty eyes that seemed to glint up at him, those soft lips that pursed when she tried not to giggle at him, that perfect nose he would trace the edge of using just his gaze when she had come over to his apartment to study for the academy. She was still as beautiful as the day he’d met her, he thinks part of him had always thought of her in that way. He had just put it down to a pretty girl giving him attention. But girls gave him attention all the time, he had realised since that stakeout at the club, when he’d given her those napkin roses. He just didn’t care for them. 

He only cared about what she thought of him. 

Only cared what her face looked like-

“Wait,” He stopped his thoughts that could go on for days, weeks, about her. They already had, it was difficult to pull himself out of it sometimes. He stared at the photos of the victims, his mind revelling in her own face that he didn’t doubt had guys swooning and falling over their own feet, as he zeroed in on their eyes, cheekbones, septums, “Their faces are all an identical structure,” 

“How did you figure that out?” She asked, wide eyed and he ripped down the photos before she could catch him blushing. 

He thought he might take it to the grave what he’d been thinking about. 

–

“He’s going live,” Hotch seethed, clicking a button on the remote and the whiteboard in the centre of the room lit up with video footage, a small red dot flashing slowly in the corner telling them they were watching it being streamed. 

Bugsy stood behind Spencer, her eyes glued to the small computer at the desk that played the same screen, her heart rate spiking when she saw a small body camera pointing at a house, the UnSub cutting across a lawn in a near sprint. 

He’d lost control completely, and he had another victim set in his sights. 

“He’s not slow, deliberate. This guy’s pissed.” Rossi said, his jaw hung open in horror as the streamer headed straight for the front door. 

“All right, what do we see? Determining markers?” Hotch snapped the groups focus back from the gut wrenching panic that everyone felt, and it was like a switch flipped.

“A one story cottage,” Spencer noted, his eyes glued to the screen so tight he missed the way Bugsy’s face changed colour, and she looked like she was swaying on her feet. 

“That could be anywhere,” Detective Fordham commented back, his face grimacing. 

“Is there a number on the house?” Morgan asked, and everyone leaned in closer to the footage. 

“No, he’s already at the door,” JJ said, running a hand through her long blonde hair. 

Bugsy thought she might be sick. 

“Garcia,” 

“He’s using twice as many proxy servers,” Her shaky voice came through the speaker, furious typing in the background.

“Wait, this window in the background, is that the chat room?” Emily asked, pointing to the small screen at the bottom that flooded with comments from at least forty different users, and more began entering the stream. 

Get that bitch. 

Show her a good time. 

Teach the pigs a lesson for sticking their nose in. 

Bugsy wished she hadn’t been so fast at reading, as she felt her skin go cold at the sight of the comments. 

“People are getting off on it,” She said quietly, but no one heard her, too focused on finding out where the UnSub was. 

“Uh Huh,” Garcia confirmed, as the footage flicked to show a kitchen view, a pretty fair haired woman stood chopping peppers none the wiser to the sick people watching her life before it was about to be ended. 

“He’s in the house, guys,” Reid ran clammy hands over his trousers, his stomach churning as the video went on.

“He’s completely changed his MO,” Derek added, and the team could do nothing but watch in terror, “There’s too much light, what happened?”

“Someone asked the wrong question at the press conference,” JJ explained from beside Reid, her nails bitten to hell. 

“Oh my god, turn around. Just turn around,” Emily begged, and part of her little sister thought she might have been talking about her. 

“Maybe she can fend him off,” Derek said, though even his tone of voice wasn’t convinced. 

“New kitchen appliances, maybe we could check the work order?” Spencer was grasping at straws he knew that, but he couldn’t sit back with that big brain of his working overtime and not try to help at all.

“He’ll be gone by then,” Rossi said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Garcia, can you give me anything?” Hotch asked, and the sound of typing got even faster if that was possible.

“I’m stateside now, I’m almost to Idaho, I just need more time,” but Garcia was cut of by the man in the video lurching at the innocent woman, his hands wrapping around her neck with a venomous grip, her every moment of pain and terror captured on his body cam for his audience to see. 

His audience including the team. 

Bug felt the bile rise then, felt her eyes burn as she watched the woman’s face freeze in fear, a yelp of “No!” leaving her oesophagus, her small hands coming up to his wrists to try pry him away from her, anything to gasp for another breath of air. 

She wasn’t listening as Hotch barked orders at Garcia, her eyes were stuck on the woman that writhed in pain, pleading with the masked man to spare her. But her rebuttals got weaker, her whimpers began to grow quieter, and soon he’d tackled her to the ground in a blood curdling scream, his whole body weight crushing her throat. 

Her own hand came up to cover her mouth that dropped open in shock, her eyes burning with tears that she couldn't let fall. It was this woman who was suffering, not her. 

There was a bit more struggling from the woman, her eyes bulging from her skull, lips turning blue, until she slumped beneath his hands, and he released her. 

She took a step back, bumping into a chair she hadn’t even known was there as her eyes fixed to the screen, and Spencer’s head shot around to see her shaking on the spot, her eyes haunted. 

Emily followed suit, but Spencer was already out of his seat, rushing forward to grab her arms and lead her outside. 

“I’m gonna get her some air,” He called behind him to the team that watched her go with forlorn glances, and he hated how he felt her trembling beneath his grip, grabbing onto his jacket just as tight. 

They made it halfway down the stairs before she bolted for the bathroom, and he heard her retching as he dipped into the room after her, not caring that the sign clearly stated it was for women. 

“I’m fine, Em, just give me a minute,” She said, and he heard the sniffles between her words. 

“It’s me,” He said, finding the one stall on the end that had it’s door engaged, pulling a cup from out of the dispenser and filling it at the water fountain, “You should drink some water, the cold helps reset your body’s instinct to fight or flight,” 

“Or in my case, make a complete fool of myself and take time away from a time sensitive investigation because I’m such a wuss,” She said cynically, coughing chestily and he heard the toilet flush. 

His forehead creased as he frowned. The door unlocked and she stepped out, her eyes red and teary as she gently took the water from his hands, and he rooted around his pocket for a stick of gum to give her. She chucked it in her mouth, letting the peppermint clear the vile taste from her mouth, hoping she didn’t look too gross. 

“You shouldn’t stand so close to me, toilet bowls are like full of germs and my heads just been in there, I know it makes you feel funny to be around germs-” He pushed her hair behind her ear as if to tell her to stop thinking so loud, and she couldn’t help smile sheepishly at him. “Do you think Hotch will be mad?” 

He shook his head instantly. 

“Mad? No. Worried? Incredibly.” Spencer replied, stroking her hair a little the way his mom used to when he felt sick. 

Bugsy shook her head, sniffing to herself a little more. 

She couldn’t stop seeing that woman’s face as the life slipped from her, the hands around her neck. The yelps and pleads and begs and she fought with everything in her.

“How long was it until you started feeling like this?” She asked earnestly, running a sleeve under her nose, “You’re so brave, I always knew you were but, since I started, it’s like I realised nothing really touches any of you anymore.”

He fought the incredulous laugh, him; brave? The man scared of the dark and elevators brave? 

“We all take things home with us at the end of the day,” He said, wiping under her eyes for her with his own cardigan cuff, “If you didn’t feel anything for the victims we help, you wouldn’t be human, Bug,”

She nodded, “I know. I just don’t want to let anyone down. Not you guys and especially not the people we’re helping,” 

“It’s for that reason I know you’re going to do great,” He said, giving her one of those small Spencer smiles he reserved for when he wanted to see one of hers. 

Her forehead thumped onto his chest as he pulled her a little closer, and his cheek fell on top of her hair as he ran gentle hands over the sides of her arms, calming her until her breath started evening out. 

“You never said,” She pointed out, “How long it took for you to start getting cold feet. Bet I beat some kind of record, two weeks is absolute dog shit,” She chuckled to herself, not noticing how his face evened out in sadness. 

It was Tobias Hankel that had done it. It was getting tied up and injected that had made him feel like a failure, like he wasn’t cut out for anything let alone the force. Like his life was taking a huge spiral downwards. 

But he wouldn’t tell her that, not yet at least. 

“Come on, let’s get you back,” He brushed off, and she figured it was a sore spot for him. She cursed herself for asking in the first place. 

Nodding, she downed the rest of the water and got herself a refill, following him out of the bathroom, looking back up at him for a moment.

“I forgot to say,” Bug said, nudging against his side with her whole body, knocking into him lovingly, “Your new hair is very… dashing. I really like it.”

He swore his face went crimson in a single second.

5. The one with his migraines

“Let me pay for your fuel at least,”

“Spence, just shut up and get in the car,”

That was around about how the past eight months had gone. Every day, she would drive by his apartment, Emily in the passenger seat of her little sisters beat up Renault Zoe, affectionately named after its model, the back seat reserved for Spencer’s lanky legs and satchel bag as she drove the three of them through through roads of Virginia, to work and back again. 

Sometimes he surprised her with coffee, sometimes Emily brought them donuts.  Either way, they all enjoyed their morning routine that had stood the test of time about as much as Bugsy had as part of the BAU. 

It had gotten easier after that first case; she still had her moments, but her skin had thickened to a point she barely remembered what her life had been like before that day Hotch asked her to join the academy. 

Things were going well, she felt settled, even with the new girl Seaver replacing JJ while Jareau was away on business in the pentagon. She couldn’t say she was the girl’s best friend, but they got along. And that was good enough for her. Her team was a well oiled machine. 

That was, except for Spencer. Spencer she worried for every day. 

She hated the way he twitched in the passenger seat, now his since she’d forced Emily to get the subway to work today, bitching eachother out in the way sisters did until the older woman left in a huff but without asking questions, and she left to take Spencer to the hospital. 

The sunglasses did little to stop his eyes hurting, his brain quite literally feeling as though it was pressing against his skull. He even turned down coffee this morning, and her stomach had dropped when she realised just how serious it was. 

He didn’t even question her when she held his hand tightly in hers as she walked him into the office, knowing he would hate every second of having this MRI done. 

“Everything’s going to be absolutely fine, they’re going to find what it is and we’re going to get you fixed right up to your perky self again,” She said, as they sat together outside the doctor’s office, keeping her voice calm and quiet as not to upset his delicate head even more. 

He nodded, appreciating her gentle touches on his hand, and he jumped in his seat when the door opened, his name being called through and he wished she could come with him. 

“You got this,” Bugsy smiled at him reassuringly when he looked hesitant, and nodded again, squeezing her hand once before he let go, following the nurse into the MRI room, wondering how he got so lucky to have a best friend like her. 

–

Spencer sighed, leaning back in his seat. The flight had not helped the building pressure in his head in the slightest. He looked up to the ceiling, closing his eyes as the harsh office lights beat against his face mercilessly. 

Two bodies found sacrificed to a 'higher being', their tongues and fingers cut off, shells put over their eyes and mouths. They had seen worse, perhaps not as odd, but they had seen worse. And yet this was the case that made him feel like his brain was about to explode right out his ears.

He hadn’t felt like this since he had been on Dilaudid, since he’d be on a come down and his whole body would sweat cold, and his head would rattle with every movement. And even that almost paled in comparison to how bad his head hurt right now. 

Spencer had wondered if that was what had done this to him, if it was a long term side effect of its use. He knew it wouldn’t be, but the self punishing part of him couldn’t help but fill his head with it. 

He just wanted answers. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to crawl into bed with an ice pack over his face and never surface again until this thing had subsided. 

Spencer felt hands in his hairline, fingernails weaving and massaging until he almost moaned, the touches releasing some of the metaphorical knots like magic at their fingertips, and he knew who it was, because that was how she always made him feel. 

He opened his eyes to see her very upside down as she looked down at him, their eyes inline with one another as she continued running her fingers against his temples gently. 

“You okay, handsome?” That was somewhat new, not that he was complaining. Part of him said she just felt bad for him and his weird brain, and maybe that was how it had always been, but ever since he had started getting these migraines she was impossibly even softer with him now. Like she was his comfort blanket he cuddled to when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself, and she knew it too. They were rarely not stuck together like velcro, where he moved, she moved. Where he sat, she was pressed against him like the concept of personal space had never been such a huge deal for him. 

And when his pain struck him down into the embodiment of a wounded doe, she was right there fluffing his pillows, grabbing him aspirin, massaging his head like she could grab the bastard migraine right out of his skull and say leave my precious boy alone. 

She was too sweet on him recently, but then he never wanted it to stop. It felt like a relationship without the kissing and especially without the sex. The thought of it made him want to moan again. 

“This one’s a stubborn one,” It had lingered around for three days straight, and the Miami heat wasn’t helping as he looked up at her inverted face, and he could tell she was smiling gently at him. 

She ran her thumbs over his eyebrows, smoothing them out and he sighed in delight as he felt the muscle begin to relax beneath her touch. 

“You make things better,” He confessed, her fingers tracing down his pretty nose, and he closed his eyes as she went over the bags beneath them. “You always do,” 

He felt her kiss his forehead for good luck, and he knew she hated seeing him in so much pain. He could have whined when she pulled away, letting go of him gently as Rossi stepped into the room, hoping he hadn’t seen the affection before too much teasing could come. 

But he said nothing, even if he had seen, just raised his eyebrows and grabbed the file off the desk for his own thorough look through. 

He sure as hell missed the way she interlaced their fingers under the desk though. 

–

Spencer twisted the bracelet around his wrist as they sat together outside the doctor's office. Orula’s ide. That was what Julio had called it. Said it would protect him from the bad spirits that clouded his head. 

Spencer was a man of science, a man of logic. But even he couldn’t quite explain how Julio had managed to figure out he was having migraines despite him not letting any infliction of pain cross his face, even more confused when Julio had said his body had been a conduit for a higher spirit who wanted to help him. 

He was glad to be back in Virginia where everything made sense to him. Where she could hold onto his knee at the doctor's office to stop it from bouncing and his team couldn’t tease or ask him what was wrong or make her stop touching him so much. 

“I say we get some ice on your head and put on whichever Doctor Who episode you want, don’t even care if we’ve seen it before,” She offered, smiling over at him and hoping he couldn’t see the worry in her eyes. 

He could. He just nudged her shoulder with his forehead to say thankyou without ruining the solace the quiet brought him. 

That is until his name was called, just as it was the last time he was here, and he stood to enter the office, not letting go of her hand as this time he’d made sure she could come. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” He said as he sat on the bed, his doctor showing him the clear brain scans that hadn’t flagged a single neuron out of place. 

“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” His doctor replied, watching the way his female accomplice frowned, squeezing his hand tightly. 

“Isn't there any tests that would look for a specific prognosis we could try?” She asked, and the man shook his head. 

“Not unless we’ve ruled out every other option, and in this case I’d like to suggest that Dr. Reid’s condition might be psychosomatic in nature,” The doctor explained, wary of the way the two agents screwed their expressions up, almost identically, hearing his explanation of Spencer’s headaches. 

“Psychosomatic…” Spencer echoed softly, in near disbelief. 

That couldn’t be it. It had to be the Dilauded. Or a tumour. Or a long standing concussion. Something physical and tangible he could point out and get fixed.  

“It just means a mental or emotional cause-” The doctor explained, only to have Spencer cut him off. 

“No I know what ‘psychosomatic’ means Doctor, but it's not that,” He said, his voice tired; the idea he was making up his problem in his own head bothered him. 

“Well, I think it’s something we should consider.”

“Listen, I’m not crazy,” Spencer insisted, and he felt her tugging his hand closer to hers, her own way of comforting him when she couldn’t grab at his hair or face or jaw. 

“Dr Reid, I’m not saying-” But he was stopped by Spencer’s voice that was slowly growing more irate. 

“No, listen, I have headaches. I have increased sensitivity to light, because there’s something wrong with me physically. Not mentally. It’s not that,” He corrected the doctor, his sweet face pulled into a grumpy pout, almost offended that the professional was willing to write his pain off as a hallucinations. 

“That?” The doctor asked, a frown on his face as Spencer continued.

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalised. So I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you. It’s not that, it’s not.” Spencer said in a huff, standing from the bed and grabbing his satchel, all but pulling her from the room as she sped walked after him, her hand still tightly in his. 

She was gobsmacked. She didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, and suddenly every single instance of her whining about her mother to him entered her head and she felt a pit growing in her stomach that only had room for guilt. 

They sat in the car in silence, her hands at ten and two as she tried not to stare at him. 

She couldn’t stand the quiet in which he stewed, murmuring to himself every now and then about how that most certainly wasn’t what was causing his state to decline. 

“You never told me that before,” She said after a while, and it was quiet, whether to satiate his headache or because she didn’t know if she was allowed to say it he wasn’t sure. 

“It never came up,” He said in a way that left little question. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

They sat in the quiet some more, the only sound being the way her engine hummed beneath the bonnet, the music turned low for his pounding head, and he saw the way she chewed her lip and flicked glances at him from the driver's side.

He sighed, not wanting to snap at her the way he had the doctor, “Bug, would you please stop looking at me like that, like you pity me-”

“No, it’s not that it's…” She started carefully, her gaze flicking ot him for a moment as they stopped at a red light, “Every time I forget you’re the strongest person I know, you just seem to remind me,” 

And just like that his heart swelled all over again, and he felt like maybe his head wasn't an entire failure to him.

+1 The one with the eulogy.

This was hell on earth. 

She sat around the table at the funeral home with her mother to her left, her father and Stephanie to her right. 

She could feel the team’s eyes on her; she hadn’t spoken in days, her face shallow and off colour, sick looking. Speaking to her mother and father was difficult for her on a good day, let alone when she was all alone. 

Because that was how she looked, as if she were half a person now, her face bitter and angry as she tried to take up the least amount of space at the table as possible, her mother inspecting her finger beds as if they’d scorned her. 

“Sit up straight,” She chided, nudging her daughter's knee, but Bugsy made no move to adjust her posture. She just stared blankly at the ugly floral tablecloth, waiting for the other mourners to arrive, to give their sorrows, before they could move to the church. 

Emily was right next door. Cold. In a box. Her entire body was likely in rigour mortis now, her face was probably white as snow with the blood pooling away - pallor mortis Reid had called it - her hands were probably twisted and ugly like a raven's foot-

She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. And yet the thoughts wouldn’t stop, not even as Stephanie, step mother from heaven as she was, began to chime in to try lighten the mood. 

Her dad hadn’t said a word to her yet, just patted her on the head the way he hadn’t done since she was five. 

“It’s a lovely day for a funeral, don’t you think?” She commented, but her voice was too sweet, too soft, too normal to have the charm she’d intended. 

Stephanie wasn’t a bad person. Not evil or horrible like Bugsy had always thought a step mother would be. But she was the person her father had left little Bugsy for, and though she knew almost all of her anger had been displaced onto the poor woman when he’d told her he had a new wife, Stephanie had never exactly bothered to remedy their relationship. 

Emily and Bugsy had been someone else’s kids. Had been Richard Prentiss’ problems, not hers. And no amount of kindness she bothered to overcompensate with today would change the past twenty years her father had been too preoccupied to even call for her birthdays. 

Bugsy scoffed, ignoring the warning look from her father. He knew very well how his youngest felt about his wife. 

“Mr and Mrs Prentiss,” Hotch came over, as if sensing the girl’s annoyance at the woman’s words, and she mentally could have planted a kiss right on Aaron’s lips when he made the effort to exclude Stephanie in his condolences, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is a devastation I never would wish on anyone,” 

“Thank you for your kind words, Mr Hotchner,” The step mother piped up again, before either of them could say anything, and Bugsy shot her a look so full of hatred, Aaron thought she might have slapped her right then and there. 

Richard cleared his throat, moving to put an arm around Steph’s chair, one that she’d pulled up to the table herself. 

If there was one thing Elizabeth and Bugsy would ever agree on it was that Stephanie was intolerable. 

Her mother looked empty as she nodded at Hotch, crossing her legs properly and pursing her lip, not saying anything. She’d never seen her mother cry, and she doubted that would start today. Elizabeth was much too of a proud woman to weep in front of the masses. 

“Thanks, Hotch,” Bugsy said the first words she had in days, the only time she’d gotten out of bed was to feel Niko and Sergio or to use the bathroom. Her voice was raspy, ghost like, and it scared the crap out of him. 

He couldn’t see her getting through this alive. 

With Haley, he’d had Jack to get him through it, keep him going, if not to put on a front for his little boy that was the spitting image of his wife. But Bug had nothing left of her sister, nothing but herself and two parents that couldn’t stand to look at one another without screaming curses. 

The other’s had already given their condolences, had already bombarded her with enough letters, flowers, stuffed teddies to fill a house, and she knew she wasn’t being fair ignoring them when they were grieving too. If not just as much as she was. 

But she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t be anything except this shell of a woman once called Bugsy. Her sister gave her that name, she didn’t think she deserved it anymore. 

Spencer just wished she would cry. He had been sobbing non stop, even where his eyes were puffy and red as Garcia’s as they stood in the funeral home, the smell of incense too strong, the sounds of wails too loud. But she looked… he hated to say it, she looked dead.

“That poor little lamb,” Penelope sniffled, tears already streaking down her cheeks as Derek tucked her under his arm, pulling her close into his smart black suit, “I wished she would let us in,”

“That girl is a carbon copy of Emily, of course she’s going to take herself off to lick her wounds,” Rossi said, his own fancy blazer stuffed with tissues in case his dark eyes welled up with tears again. He’d already managed to save himself once this morning before leaving the house, but he didn’t trust himself anymore than that. 

Spencer missed her smile more than anything, though he himself was struggling to muster anything past a grimace. 

“The Spring flowers are all in bloom, isn’t that lovely?” Stephanie continued, an easy grin on her face as she looked out of the window to the graveyard, as if she was entirely unaware of the grief lingering in the room, “I think she'll like it here,”

That was it. 

That was what pushed Bugsy over the edge, even Elizabeth broke her cold facade to look at the other women in shock, her daughter’s eye twitching as her head snapped to Stephanie, a rage encompassing her entire face.

“What the fuck would you know what she liked or didn’t like, Stephanie? She barely even fucking liked you,”  Bugsy hissed, drawing the attention of a few of the mourners with her vitriol anger. 

That wiped the smile off the woman’s face harder than any slap could have. 

“You watch your mouth, young lady,” Richard snapped, his face a blazen rage as Stephanie cowered behind him. 

Bugsy scoffed, and Hotch knew by the sound of it alone, something had been lit inside her that was about to go off like a hand grenade. 

He couldn’t say he blamed her. 

“I don’t know why you even bothered showing up, Dad. You’ve not seen either one of us since Emily left college,” She spat back, her eyes wild like a cat ready to claw its way out of a fight, “Surprised you even remember my name now you have your shiny new family and your million honeymoons to keep you busy,”

Richard stood from his chair, his black three piece creasing as he pointed in her face, his hand shaking with rage, and she saw the tears well in his eyes that looked too much like her own for her comfort. 

“You are turning out to be just like your mother, pushing away anyone who ever cared about you.” He barked, not caring that a few mourners turned to look at him in shock, “Don’t come crying back to me when you end up alone, little lady,” 

And with that he took Stephanie’s hand, who was the patron saint of guilt as of now, a face like a scolded child, too naive for the grown woman she really as. At least she had finally shut up, Bugsy thought darkly as her father stormed out of the home, ignoring the way faces watched hers carefully, knowing every word he’d said had been true. 

She thinks for a minute if Emily was here she’d poke fun at the way Steph’s face had been hilarious when her smile had dropped, or that her dad still had the worst temper out of them all, Bug included. She thinks that if Emily were here, she’d tell her he’d said all that stuff out of anger, and that she won’t end up alone, and that she’d always be with her.

She thinks that if Emily were here, she wouldn’t feel the empty nothingness where shame and sadness would be after having that entire thing play out infront of so many onlookers. 

But Emily wasn’t there. And she couldn’t even say she was shocked when her mother stood from her seat besides her too. 

“Where are you going?” Bugsy snarled, the Ambassador looking somewhat concerned before the expression fell and she went back to an equally lost look of her own. 

“I refuse to be made a spectacle of today,” Elizabeth said detachedly, collecting her purse over her black midi dress, her painted nails skimming the handle gently, “I can say my own goodbyes to your sister later, when everyone has left,” 

Coward. Coward. Coward. Bugsy wanted to scream after her, wanted to tear her hair out, wanted to grab the two of them by the neck and make them feel the way her words trapped inside her and clawed at her throat, sitting inside like a moth bouncing against a window trying to escape. 

But she said nothing. Did nothing, as her mother left the home, left her sitting there alone, until the officiant came over to her not even a moment’s later and told her it was time to start the funeral. 

And then she truly felt as if she would never be whole again. 

–

Her hands shook as she got to the podium. She’d always hated public speaking, which Spencer thought was odd since she seemed to grab the attention of every room she walked into like it was second nature. She didn’t even bat an eyelid at chasing down a criminal or being shot at or evening chewing out a detective that wasn’t pulling his weight, but speaking to a handful of decorated officers that watched her with grieving eyes was too much. 

Adjusting the mic to a more appropriate height, they watched her eyes scan the room, her brows scrunched, her mouth dry. Trying to find Emily, Hotch realised with a crack in his chest. The way she always did when she was nervous. The way she did when she was looking for Emily to come save her. 

“H-hi, um,” Her voice shook, her fingers fiddling with the chord for something to do, “Mom- Ambassador Prentiss got called out on business so I guess I’ll be giving the eulogy,” 

No one spoke, not even the ones who knew it was a lie, her eyes falling to where Spencer gave her a sad smile, some sort of encouragement for her to keep going, though his eyes were red and bloodshot, and he was sure the burn in his throat was rising again. 

She hadn’t cried yet. Penelope had cried four times today alone. 

“I- um, I wasn’t really prepared for a speech, so I’m, um, I’m just going to read the letter I wrote to her if that’s okay?” Her head shot to the priest who had handed the spotlight over to her, the warm spring breeze pulling at his robes as he nodded, his hand gesturing for her to continue. 

She cleared her throat, tearing the envelope open, and the paper rattled in her fingertips with her shaking hands as she pulled out the double sided A4 that had been written on in neat blue ink. 

Unfolding it, she let her gaze rip off the crowd of people who stared at her, waiting for whatever it was she had to say, the final words her sister’s body would hear before she was put in the ground forever. The last goodbye. The only one that had ever mattered. 

“Dear Emily,” Bugsy read, her voice finding footing as she was able to look away from the hundreds of eyes that watched her tearfully. But it was the wrong move. Because the minute she’d prepared herself to say the words out loud she felt her eyes well up. 

This was it. The last chance she would ever get to tell Emily how she felt. How sorry she was. How she was so damn sorry for being such a shitty person for so many years, for never saying thank you enough, for never hugging her when she really ought to have, for never appreciating how lucky she was to have a sister like her. 

Her throat clogged, and she sucked in a deep breath, releasing a trembling sigh. Her bottom lip quivered. 

“Sorry-” She apologised to the watchers, rubbing her mouth nervously, hoping no one could see just how deeply she had broken, just how harsh the wound had gaped open, “Dear Emily,” She started again;

“Everyone thinks they know what a sister is; it's the woman you share fifty percent of your DNA with who you’re put on this earth to annoy the shit out of,” A small wet laugh reverberated around the crowd, and she flashed a small smile at her own words. “But the truth is you can actually share up to sixty-one percent of your genes with one of your siblings. Which is crazy to me, because I know no matter how hard I try, I will never be even one percent of the woman you are,” 

She swallowed heavily, and she heard Penny burst out crying again, her head buried in Morgan’s neck. 

“If I was as gracious as you, I’d probably say you’re in a better place now, and if I was as brave, we probably wouldn’t even be here, because I would have been able to save you that day instead of just watching like a fly on the wall.” The first tear fell then, her face crumpling in pain. “If I was as considerate as you, I would be able to look every one of your friends in the eyes and tell them it would all be okay in the end. And if I was even the tiniest bit as kind as you, then I would have told you all of this to your face when it actually mattered.”

She sniffed heavily, and Derek did the same, his own throat burning, picking the thread on his nice trousers as Penelope’s tears wet his shirt through. 

“Everyone thinks that true love is finding someone you want to marry and have children with, but I know now that’s not the entirety of it. Love is a person you want to spend every day making happy, and make them proud to say they love you too.” Her chin wobbled some more as she read the next few sentences with something darker than remorse in her glassy eyes, “I sometimes think, if we were given a second chance, if we could try again, I would be able to tell you that I truly love you, Emily, and that you’re the only person I ever cared about loving me too,”

Her voice cracked, and she regarded the paper with misty eyes, her cheeks soaked as she quickly wiped them with the back of her white, lace gloves. 

“I think maybe next time I wouldn’t be so spoiled and bratty, and you could have been more relaxed and maybe less like my mom at times, but I think if we could do it over, we could have done it right, the way sisters are supposed to,” She sniffed, missing the way Spencer’s face dripped with tears of his own, her words tearing him inside and out with the guilt in every line. “But I guess it’s too late for that now. I only got one chance to be your sister and I failed, no matter how many times you pulled through for me. And that’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

She braved a look at the closed casket, imagining her big sister, the only person she ever truly loved laying in there with fair, snow skin, her noir hair sitting perfectly like a princess in the fairytales she used to read to her before bed. Only this one had no happy ending. This one ended with her heart torn from her chest, bleeding for the rest of her days until her own body was buried and everyone could mourn the girl who was barely half the woman her sister was, no matter what the statistics say.

“I’m sorry, Emily” It was the first time she’d said the two words that had been playing in her head on a loop for weeks, the two words that sang to her like a mantra, every morning, noon and evening. Even in her sleep she had dreams where she could do nothing but scream into a void of darkness, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It should have been me, I’m sorry. “I hope you can forgive me,” She whimpered through a sob, ignoring the way her cheeks gushed with fat tears now, as she wept freely at the podium, her hands no longer shaking. 

“Lots of love, your shitty baby sister, Bugsy.” She finished with a small whine, her expression broken as she folded the letter back up and placed it in the envelope, the cursive lettering of her big sister’s name staring back at her. Finishing where she’d started. 

Tucking the letter underneath a tulip wreath atop the coffin, she stepped back down off the podium, ignoring the way the eyes followed her back to her seat, ignoring the way Derek rubbed her shoulder affectionately, or the way JJ handed her a packet of tissues, even though her own face was flooded, and showed no signs of stopping. She felt Spencer grab her hand in his delicately, entwining their fingers together, and squeezing lightly. 

The priest continued with a hymn, though she didn’t bother singing it. She just stared at her shoes, as if her entire soul had been sucked from her the minute she’d ended the eulogy. 

Which it had, because that had been Emily’s last goodbye. 

She didn’t speak in the car on the way back to Spencer’s, not as Hotch pulled her in for a wide hug, rare and warm, even going so far as to stroke the back of her head with more affection than they’d ever seen him give her. 

“Call me if you need anything,” He’d murmured into the side of her head as he held her close, feeling two hands hesitantly wrap around his waist, as if she wasn’t entirely switched on which, going by the vacant look on her face she wasn’t. 

Spencer made her tea the moment they got in. She didn’t ask for it, she just sat on the sofa and stared at the beat up, old TV he kept only for the occasional documentary, and for the shows she liked to watch too of course. But she hadn’t even switched it on, just stared at the inky black glass like it would jump to life itself and tell her how to feel. 

He took a seat next to her, on the other end of the couch, flicking the screen on for something to stop it from being so silent in his home; the silence meant they were alone with their thoughts, and for once he and his thoughts couldn’t stand being together. He didn’t want to interrupt her, or be the first to break the quiet. Not even when he watched her tea go cold in front of her, or as she barely acknowledged the cartoon on the TV, or when he pulled out his copy of The Brothers Karamazov that he’d been re-reading for the third time. 

“Would you like me to read to you? Would that be better?” He asked tentatively, and she didn’t even blink, as if she were some sort of zombie or corpse sitting next to him programmed for instruction on acting human. 

She said nothing, but she did move, the act of it making him jump slightly, and it was then he realised she had been perfectly still for the past half an hour, barely even showing signs of breath. A puppet with no master. 

She leaned over, her body dropping onto the sofa softly as if she was taking a nap, only for her head to rest on his thigh, and his hand flew to pull the claw clip out of her hair like he read her mind. Her knees nestled to her chest, in foetal position, her pretty black dress, the same one she’d worn for Haley’s funeral riding up past her knees. 

He gently tucked his long fingers into her roots, stroking her hair like she were a tame cat curled in his lap, clearing his voice as he continued where he’d left off, making sure he wasn’t reading too fast the way he would if it was just him. 

His head still whirled around the eulogy she’d read. How watching her crack beneath the weight of her own words had hurt him more than his own grief, had made him bury whatever it was he felt and just need to put her back together again. 

Because he didn’t need an eidetic memory to have ingrained what she’d said into his head, not even as they went to bed, and she burrowed into his side in one of his sweatshirts he usually saved for his own bad days. 

“Bug,” He braved to say, watching her eyes force themselves open from where they were on the very lip of sleeping, “You’re my very best friend, did you know that?” 

She hummed, her nose digging into his arm that he wound under her head, pulling her close enough he could feel her heartbeat against his own where she was in the crook of his neck. 

“I love you,” She said, like those three words didn’t rip the air from his lungs. 

Not even as her breathing finally evened out, and he felt himself heave a sigh of relief; the bags under her eyes had been more noticeable today than ever. Not even when he dared a kiss to her forehead as she slept, the smell of her shampoo completely taking over his pillow as he allowed his own heart to hurt for just a few moments, missing his friend dearly as he looked after the woman.

Love is a person you want to spend every day making them happy, and make them proud to say they love you too. 

He knew then.

–

TAGLIST

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions@the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33

[on-leatheredwings]

request: “how damian would handle learning reader is dating somebody?”

Yandere! Damian Wayne / GN! Reader > romantic > tw/cw: possessive thoughts, yandere-typical behaviors > word count: 741

“So, remember when I told you I thought my chem partner was kind of hot?”

You both are poring over your books on one of Wayne Manor’s many balconies. Damian, on a break, looks up from playing with Alfred the Cat with her favorite fluffy wand. He and Alfred have identical pairs of glassy green eyes, now trained on you. Damian blinks, face impassive.

“... I do–”

“I finally asked him out!” you squeal. You hop out your seat and around in a circle, not caring to feign coolness. You were excited, dammit, and Damian has seen you do much more embarrassing things.

While you celebrate, Damian simply stares. You don’t notice his breaths deepening subtly, as he tries to subdue the burning acid that starts to run through his veins. You had been interested in your chemistry partner for weeks now, and he didn’t think much of it. You’re young. You’ll have crushes. They’ll pass. He’s learned the art of patience by now. Mainly, for the sake of any who catch your eye, and for the sake of his father’s chagrin. Damian Wayne is not above slander or physical harm. 

Damian Wayne also has a timeline. He knows when he’ll start to hint at his feelings for you. He knows when he’ll make you his significant other. When he’ll bring you to meet his family, although they are already aware of your place in his life. Damian even knows when he’ll someday propose. He has, quite literally, already planned out your nuptials. Stephanie had him make a moodboard on Pinterest, for goodness sake. 

Damian’s benevolent enough to let you choose the date… as long as it’s within a year of his proposal. He’s been so benevolent, and yet here you were, squealing over a date with some frivolous boy. 

Taking Damian’s silence as him being stunned, you continue waxing at length about your date. He admires the naive abandon at which you describe the events – one of your charming qualities. However, in his mind, Damian pokes holes in every sentence.

You met the boy there? Meaning, he didn’t pick you up? Embarrassing. 

He didn’t pull out your chair for you once you both reached the table? Insulting. 

You tripped on a stair, and the boy simply helped you up? Infuriating. If it were him, Damian would’ve picked you up and carried you to your next destination. 

“You can’t be serious,” Damian snaps, sneering against his better judgment. His blood has finally boiled over – he cannot sit here listening to this drivel anymore.

At his tone, you flinch. Your babbling ceases. Hurt flashes across your face, before you smother it away.

“... What?” you say defensively. Damian straightens to his full height, dropping the feathery wand entirely. He strides over to you, looking entirely striking. Two emerald eyes stare down at you.

“You were treated like garbage the entire time, and here you can’t stop gushing about it all.”

You stare at Damian agape. “Okay, I wasn’t treated like garbage–”

“Did he even pay for the meal,” Damian asks flatly. You bristle, frowning.

“We split it–”

Damian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You fill with embarrassment, staring at your feet… Your thoughts are interrupted by two warm, calloused hands landing on your shoulders. Your head snaps up. 

“You deserve to be treated like royalty.” Damian’s eyes pore into yours intensely, as if you’re the only thing he sees. “And as your… friend, I would hope you would entertain only those who could be your equal.” 

So he says, but no one will ever have his approval. He will sway you against them no matter who they are. Because only he deserves you. Some days, he doesn’t even know if he does. Regardless, you and him are meant to be.

You are dumbfounded by the sudden gravity of the conversation.

“I– yeah,” you say, nodding shyly. Damian overtakes your field of vision at this distance… you know, you noticed how handsome he was long ago, but at this closeness, you can truly admire it. He’s quite the domineering figure, with his perfectly-cut jaw, elegant aquiline nose, and even brown skin. You cough, stepping back.

“... Yeah,” you say again. “Uh, thanks, Damian. Let’s go over these problems again, yeah?”

Damian bristles.

The look that was just on your face...

He blinks. If he was correct… Perhaps he had just accelerated his timeline. And if so, such a development would be more than welcome.

[elliespassagerprincess]

ellie period comfort fic pls? istg i hate this shit but love ur fluff fics KJAKSJHKA:cc

Comfort - (ellie williams x reader)

hi pookieeee!!! firstly thank youuuu, secondly so real. if i could get rid of it forever i would because joh the painnnnnnnn:(((( i hope you enjoy<3333

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: none

Summary: in which she helped you

authors note: its midterm break rn and im so bored, all i do is sleep, eat and write. also do yall think i should make playlist with all the songs people send me as requests???

masterlist

Ellie was worried. Really fucking worried.

The two of you were supposed to meet at this new cat café Ellie recently discovered. She remembered showing you pictures that she found on Instagram, and how excited you were.

"Ellie there's ginger cats!" You squealed when you saw the pictures. "Can i hold them?"

"The website says you can"

You let out a scream of excitement and you hopped onto her, straddling her. Her hands immediately went to your hips.

You kissed her all over her face and she fucking giggled.

"Thank you baby!"

Now here she sat all alone with ginger cat on her lap waiting for you.

She sat there for over an hour waiting but you never showed up. She's called you so many times. She's texted you so many times.

I'm here (delivered)

when are you coming? (delivered)

Where are you? (delivered)

Baby are you ok? (delivered)

You're scaring me (delivered)

It wasn't like you to not respond, especially if the two of you had a date planned.

Maybe you were mad at her? Maybe you were ignoring her? Maybe you were in danger?

Fuck, so many possibilities.

She checked your location only to see that you were at your apartment.

What?

She immediately left the café, and she hopped into her car. She was speeding down the highway, praying that she wouldn't get pulled over.

Maybe you fainted, maybe you forgot, maybe you had someone over?

She was terrified.

She pulled into the driveway of the complex and she rushed up the stairs forgetting that the elevator was there. She ran to your door and she unlocked it with the key she had, not even bothering to knock because if you were in trouble then she needed to get there urgently.

She walked into into your apartment and it looked like it always has. It was clean, everything was in its place.

What the fuck?

She slowly walked through the apartment and she checked every room but there was no one. She just has your bedroom left. She slowly opened the door and there was a huge lump on your bed. She walked to the other side of the bed to see you fast sleep covered with a million blankets.

She let out a sigh of relief and she squatted down so she could see your face more clearly.

She gently touched your cheek and your nose scrunched at the sensation.

"Baby" she muttered quietly.

You slowly opened your eyes and she gave you a small smile.

"Hi"

"Are you ok?" Ellie asked with concern "you didn't reply to my texts"

you frown and you reached out to grab your phone from behind you. You switched it on you read all the texts and you eyes widened.

"we had a date?"

"Yeah"

"I'm sorry"

Ellie shook her head "what happened?"

you look away shyly

"baby talk to me"

"my period started and i decided to take a nap"

'that explains your mood swings' Ellie thought

"oh you poor thing" she got up and she kissed your forehead "does it hurt?"

"A little" you admitted.

"Let me help you"

you nodded at her request and Ellie immediately got to work. She went into your bathroom and she filled the tub with water. She back into your room where you quietly sat and waited for her. She came in and she gently grabbed your hand

"come on baby"

You got out of the bed following her. When you got into the bathroom and you saw the water filled tub you gave her a big hug. You took off your clothes and you gave you got in with a relived sigh.

Ellie took your clothes and she out it into the washer. She immediately went into the kitchen and she looked for every sweet treat she could find because she knew how much loved eating sweet this, especially at this time.

She changed your sheets, she got you pain meds and she sat on the edge of the bed waiting for you.

You walked out all clean, and you were immediately looking for Ellie. When you walked into the room, seeing the new sheets the snacks, you were suddenly overwhelmed.

"Oh Ellie" your eyes filled with tears.

"No baby don't cry" she got up and she walked over to you and she hugged you as you silently sobbed. The two of you stood together for a while as you found comfort in her arms.

"Lets lay down" she mumbled.

"Tonight we'll do whatever you want" she said as she cuddled up behind you.

"Can we watch Disney?"

"We can baby"

"can you also get me cheese?"

"Whatever you want baby"

you gave the arm that was wrapped around you a squeeze

"i like cheese"

" i know you do"

"thank you els, i love you"

"i love you too"

<3

[blackdollette]

"heard that you like the bad girls." | spencer reid

video games. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: when the black cat meets the golden retriever.

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x spencer

word count: 1.2k

contents: opposites attract, spencer being a sweetheart, fluff, not proofread

it had to have been a cruel joke played by the universe when you and spencer were assigned to work on a job together.

your interactions with him had never gone past glancing at him as he passed by or blankly nodding at the factoids he spat at 100 words per minute. he was a self-proclaimed genius, equipped with intelligence that many could only aspire to obtain. so it didn’t make sense to you why it was always as if his IQ got slashed in half whenever he spoke to you.

spencer was a sophisticated individual, particular about everything from the way he carried himself to how each chestnut-brown strand of his hair was laid. while you were the polar opposite. you went with the wind, going wherever the night took you. your attire consisted of dark colours and you put minimal effort into making yourself look professional, though you suppressed your style just a little to help it meet the nonexistent workplace requirements. even with your lack of interactions, spencer could tell you had a bold personality. and he longs to search and explore every part of it.

the first step he took in getting to know you was offering to give you a ride to work. as usual, you were running late. he’d said that he’d be at your place by 7:30 and you watched the long arm of the clock tick to 7:29. you slipped on your dark brown sweater, letting it rest on top of your pleated black skirt. you hastily put on your dark tights, finishing off the look with your black doc martens. you looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure you didn’t look as crazy as you felt you were going.

as the clock hit 7:30 the doorbell chimed, perfectly on cue. you quickly grabbed your bag, dashing down the stairs until you reached the front door, seeing spencer through the lens of the peephole. you let out a soft breath, taking in the 6 feet of elegance that awaited you on the other side of the door. the bright morning sub made his hair appear to be made of one million pure gold threads, his eyes turning into soft pools of honey.

with a deep breath, you opened the door, greeting him with a warm smile. he met your eyes with warm eyes and the softest smile you’d ever seen. he stared at you, not saying anything for a good moment until you cleared your throat to catch his attention. he ran a hand through his hair, blinking himself out of his smitten daze.

he couldn’t get over how much he wanted to know about you. you were attractive in a frustratingly effortless way, like you just so happened to roll out of bed looking like a goddess. he had gotten lost in your gaze again, finally coming to his senses after another long minute. “g-good morning.” you laughed softly as he stammered. “morning, doc.” you teased, never having bothered using such formalities before.

he went to extend a hand toward you before thinking that he was moving too fast. “shall we? my car’s in your driveway.” you nodded, walking out the door and shutting it behind you, making sure to lock it as you and he strolled over to his car. he opened the door for you and you hopped in, slightly flattered by his chivalrous gesture. he got into the driver’s seat next to you, stealing a quick glance in your direction as you buckled up his seat belt. he’d never been able to take his eyes off of you, but the feeling got even more intense when you were this close, your scent filling his nostrils. he started up the car, pulling out of your driveway.

you yawned, rubbing your eyes as he began to drive down your street. he raised an eyebrow. “tired?” you nodded. he began to speak again, his eyes lighting up in the way that they usually did whenever he went off on irrelevant tangents. “for optimum health and function, the average adult requires around 7-9 hours of sleep to function properly during the day. but studies show that 60% of women fall short of that goal.”

you laughed a little, amazed by how quickly he could pull the facts out of his head. he pulled out of your street, driving in the opposite direction of the workplace. “how about we head down to that coffee place across from your house? i saw it when i was coming earlier.” and he absorbed knowledge like a sponge. you smiled. “yeah, that’d be great. thank you, spencer.”

you could’ve sworn you heard him squeal when you called him by his name. you pulled out your mirror, fixing up your hair as he pulled into the parking lot. “i’ll be back in a minute, okay?” he walked into the cafe before you could respond. and he hadn’t even taken your order. you were willing to bet a large sum of money that he’d draw an assumption on how you liked your coffee. you took it black, no cream and no sugar. but no guy had ever guessed that right.

you flipped through the radio channels, searching for something good to play. you assumed that you’d be waiting for him for a while. but he walked out of the shop before you could even settle on something to play. he hopped back into the car, holding two large coffees in his hand. your eyes were wide. “that was quick.” he nodded. “i ordered ahead of time. i had a feeling you wouldn’t be used to heading to work this early.”

you rolled your eyes, accepting the cup he held out to you with a smile on your face. you took a slow sip of the drink, eyes growing with surprise as you tasted the familiar, bitter mixture. he was watching you with a stupid little grin on his face. “no cream and no sugar, right?” your eyebrows inched up on your forehead. “how’d you know that?” he shrugged, putting the keys back into the ignition. “i see you everyday. it’d be a shame if i didn’t know how you took your coffee.”

you felt a sizzling sensation spreading in your cheeks. you turned away slightly, watching the atmosphere change as he drove away. the car fell silent, something you’d never expect from spencer. then he opened his mouth to speak again. “h-hey, i’ve been meaning to ask you something…” you tilted your head to the side, curious at what he had to say. he took a deep breath, trying not to sound as awkward as he knew he was. “all this work stuff is pretty hectic, like all the time. but you seem… i-i dunno. you always listen to what i have to say and never act like i bore you. s-so… i was wondering if you’d like to try out that new restaurant that opened after work…?” 

he regretted asking as soon as the word came out, but you were grinning from ear to ear as you heard him speak like a normal, nervous guy instead of the genius he was. “you asking me out on a date, spencer?” he swallowed hard, quickly looking over at you. “i guess you could put it that way…” you stayed quiet, watching as he squirmed in his seat. you found that you liked getting him all riled up. you lifted up in your seat a little and pecked him on the cheek, his face immediately flushing with crimson. “pick me up at 7:30. don’t be late.” 

you and him both laughed at the irony of that statement.

author's note: i need to rewatch criminal minds. i've completely forgotten everything about it

[superstarcherrycolagirl]

i might as well be drunk in love

“slut!” by taylor swift

benny cross x fem!reader / 1.4k words

idea: you’re drunk, and benny takes care of you after a long night out

tw: drinking, swearing, so fluffy it’s sickening

notes: this is my first big piece that I’ve wrote and omg it took FOREVER !! i haven’t been able to stop thinking about “the bikeriders” she literally consumes my every waking thought AHH !! anyway i hope you guys enjoy reading this:))

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

it’s just about 4 in the morning and you and benny just made it back home to your place. you’d been so busy this week due to picking up more shifts at the library so you would be able to pay off the rent by the end of the month, groceries, and afford to buy a little more thread to stitch up a pair of your jeans and the large tear on bennys jacket. not only was that stressful, but throughout the week you had to deal with some grouchy elderly women, preverted college boys (‘pinkos’ as zipco would call them), and multiple groups of chaotic elementary school students who were checking out their books for the semester, and only to have a slice of toast, scorching hot coffee with no milk OR sugar, and fucking prayer holding you together. so yes, this night out was a well deserved one. but who’s kidding? you needed that shit! now here you are, barely getting up the stairs to your apartment as benny holds onto you for dear life.

as you both stood outside of your apartment door, benny began digging for his copy of keys in his pocket while leaning you up against his side and adjusting his hold on your hip. he draped his jacket over you before you hopped onto his bike to head home, leaving him in his tattered sleeveless black shirt against the cold chicago air.

“sorry baby, turns out the key were in the other po-“ “y’arms are so pretty honey.. like-i like how they feel ‘round me” you cut him off with slurred words as you drunkenly gazed up at him.

“can’t believe i get to see them all t’time, for m’self, a-and nobody else gets ta have ‘em but me.. a’like when they hold me when it’s real cold..o-or hot.. or ‘round the pillows or the flowers ya get me.. or when ya’ cuddlin’ lula.. oh i hope she’s not t’cold, v’missed her so much.. she’s probably sad that her mama and daddy were gone all night-“ at this point benny could only chuckle as his girl jumped from talking about his arms to their sweet black cat lula, it made his heart swell.

once he got you into your apartment he began walking you straight towards your bed, as your giggles and drunk thoughts echoed down the hallway “no b-benny i don’t wanna t’sleep yet, i wanna watch t’bakin’ show on channel 6, they be makin some.. some of them valen..tines treats a-and i wanna try” you began to whine as benny sat you down at the edge of your bed, kneeling in front of you as he begins unbuckling the straps of your red kitten heels “yeah we can watch some baby, d’worry, jus’ wanna getcha out of these ‘nd this dress” “thought ‘ya liked me in this dress? grabbed these heels to match with em’” you said sadly, your eyes starting to droop.

benny looked up at you and could see the slight pout on your face, so he moved his left hand to caress your thigh “oh y’know i love this dress, but that tiny little nightie a’yours, that pretty pink flower in the middle that barely covers you up, takes the cake for me” he says as he moves closer to you “re-eally?” “yeah baby, she’s m’favorite” his voice gets muffled as he places some kisses on the tops of your thighs, still looking right back up at your sleepy eyes “but i love everythin’ that you wear.. especially when you wear nothing” he says with a smirk on his face, and had stopped your whining and shut you up instantly.

after getting your heels off benny helps you stand up to start taking off your clothes. the jacket was first to go, as he tossed it on top of your vanity chair. he then pushed the straps of your red gingham dress down which slowly began to fall to the floor. you were left in the dainty lingerie set you’d picked out for the night; the blush pink fabric with the lacy details matching the drunken flush on your face. benny takes his time to get a look at you, rubbing his callused hands up and down your sides. he knows that all the shifts you’ve picked up and the deadlines of payments have been making you stressed, so he just wants to take care of you tonight, although it won’t come close to repay you for all the sacrifices you make for him.

after benny unclasped your bra, he swiftly moved to your side of the bed and grabbed your linen night gown “arms up for me baby” you obliged, sleepily raising your arms above your head you momentarily close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. but you felt something else. something running along your legs. was that fuzz? you didn’t wear socks with your heels tonight and benny already tossed your dress into the laundry bin. you were stumped until you heard a rumbling sound from beneath you. purring.

“oh lula! l-look honey s’lula! she’s purring up ‘gainst me!!” you gleamed to benny, as he too was receiving affection from lula. “she’s happy that her mama and daddy are back home, right honey? home?” benny ever so slightly teased, but out of love of his girls’ adorable rambles. “yeah. home” you said with a smile. now after changing benny walks you over to your side of the bed. he sat you down facing him, but paused briefly as he realized he forgot to take some of your jewelry off.

“one second mama, forgot to get this necklace and these hoops off, i know you sleepy but i’ll be quick” he said, quickly and gently taking them off “i told ya’ i ain’t sleepy.. gotta.. we gotta still watch our show ‘member?” “y’right baby, our show” a chuckle left his mouth; of course he remembered, but he wanted you to take the credit for remembering about it as you were fighting to stay awake. “what would i do without you baby? hmm?” “d’know ben-baby, but don’t worry, y.. ya’ have me” “and you have me baby. m’sweet baby” benny’s words became muffled as he held your jaw and kissed you deeply before placing your jewlery down on the nightstand. you were finally lying down after benny got you comfortable. he then quickly stripped down to his boxers and swapped his black shirt for a white wifebeater before joining you in bed.

just by looking at you he could tell that you were barely awake, but sticking to his word, he turned the tv onto channel 6, as clips of a dessert with chocolate and some kind of fruit in it come across the screen. strawberries? or raspberries? hell, cherries? he could not tell.

as the sounds of the baking show filled the room benny shifted you closer to him, so you could rest on his chest. “did you have a good time tonight baby? i know you’ve been excited about this meeting all week” he asked you softly. you let yourself finally close your eyes, knowing that it was okay to rest now “s’so fun.. ears are ringin’ a lil.. but had so fun with t’girls, and t’club,” benny notices that your sentences are making less sense as you are just moments away from knocking out, but he was able to make out one coherent sentence of yours before that “but i had t’most fun with ya’ tonight.. ya’ lit up m’whole night honey” seconds away from slipping into your own dream land, he had to admit, you saying that so effortlessly made his breath hitch in his throat. he didn’t have a care for anything outside the club until he met you, and you have completely flipped his life upside down because of it. it gave him meaning to ride home late at night knowing he was coming back home to you. it gave him purpose to always come back to you, regardless of what’s going on through his mind. you are there for him, you are there to care for him, laugh with him, cry with him, and to just love him for the person he is. you are there for him. you are it for him “and you light up my life baby, my light”

he reaches his hand over to turn off the little lamp on his side of the bed and when he turned his head back to look at you, you were fast asleep; soft snores leaving your mouth. he could only smile, knowing that you can get the deserved rest you’ve needed “love you so much sweet girl, with my whole heart” he kisses the top of your head as lula leaps onto the bed to join her mama and daddy for cuddles.

peace and quiet at last.

[buckysgrace]

Hopscotch and the Blind Date

Closer to My Heart Single dad!Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Your blind date turns out to be someone you're very familiar with.

CW: Snarky comments, spitting, some spanking, light degradation, unprotected p n v sex

“You jump forward like this first,” Billy instructed, watching as Theo got confused once again, “And then you kick your legs out like this.” He took another step back, watching as Theo stuck his tongue out in concentration.

He took one large hop forward, landing wobbly on his one foot before he held his hands out to balance himself. He took a deep breath, little nose scrunching up before he prepared his next hop.

He collapsed once again, landing awkwardly on his bottom as a huff left his lips as his little legs lay stretched out in front of him.

“Good try,” Billy chuckled as he knelt down next to him, holding onto his sides before he lifted him onto his feet again, “You did better this time.” He told him truthfully. He was getting the hang of it, his balance just wasn’t quite there yet. 

“It’s hard,” Theo whined as he dropped his head into the crook of Billy’s neck, “Dis sucks.” He proclaimed, making him laugh as he carried him back to the starting square. He balanced him on his hip, pointing out how his feet moved as he began to jump through the squares.

Theo giggled loudly, gripping a hold of his shirt tightly as he did his best to watch how Billys feet were moving. He chuckled and gave him a little bounce at the end, figuring they could work on it more tomorrow.

“Great.” He mumbled, sighing underneath his breath as he spotted Tommy heading in his direction. He’d been ignoring his calls, hoping that he would forget about the whole thing. 

“So,” Tommy’s grin fell as he approached, “You’re wearing that?” He stopped shortly, roughly as he stared at Billy. He glanced down at himself, looking at his jeans and shirt. They were slightly worn, but it was still nice. 

“What’s wrong with this?” He asked seriously, accepting the help as Theo pushed his hair out from his shirt. Tommy scoffed as he gestured to all of him. 

“You’re all sweaty,” He stated as he shook his head, “It won’t work. Not for where you’re going.” He mumbled as he walked up the steps, pausing for a second before Billy dragged his feet as he followed him.

“And where am I going?” He asked for clarification, gripping onto Theo as they walked up the stairs to their apartment. The smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the stairway, bitter enough to make the toddler squeeze his nose shut every time they entered it.

“Somewhere nice.” Tommy added, grinning up at him with mischief as Billy unlocked the door and popped it open. He gave Theo a big bounce before he slowly lowered him to the floor, smiling at the giggles that he let out. 

“Nowhere fancy.” Billy warned as he looked back at Tommy, grumbling as he thought about what he was going to get forced into. As of today he’d never been in a tux and he certainly wasn’t starting now. 

“Not dressed like that.” Tommy scoffed as he smacked his palm against Billy’s shoulder and shoved him forward. He rolled his eyes, following him into the room as he began to tear through his closet. Theo followed behind curiously, blue eyes twinkling as he helped Tommy come to a conclusion on what he should be forced into.

“Do you have to go?” Theo pouted his lips out as he held onto Billy’s leg, sighing deeply as he rested his cheek against the slacks that they had somehow found buried underneath all of his jeans and shorts. 

“No,” He said seriously, “Do you want me to stay? I’ll stay.” He picked him up, feeling like their minds were already made as he threw his arms around his shoulders. They were staying in. This was a dumb idea anyways.

“No, no, no,” Tommy shook his head as he took Theo’s hand, “He needs to go. Do you want your dad to end up with like thirty cats?” He asked seriously, watching as Theo thought about it. 

“Yes.” He said with a nod of his head, grinning at the thought. In his defense, he really liked cats. 

“Okay,” He paused for a moment, “You’re not helping.” He sighed in exasperation, resting his hands on his hips as he turned his gaze towards Billy. 

“You heard him,” Billy shrugged his shoulders, “He doesn’t want me to go.” He said as he kissed Theo’s cheek once again. His opinion came first, before any of his friends. 

“You’re just looking for an excuse,” Tommy pointed at him roughly, “C’mon, Theo. It would make your dad happy.” He pressed his palms together, pleading softly as Theo’s expression relaxed. 

“Weally?” He asked as he looked back at Billy, his soft finger resting against his cheek. He poked him gently, eyes narrowing as he inspected him. 

“No-,” Billy began to protest, knowing that he was completely fine being single. He didn’t have time for anybody else either. HIm and Theo were fine. 

“Yes it would,” Tommy interjected, giving Billy a severe look that silenced him. He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he shook his head, “C’mon, Theo. Please?” He asked softly, pleading as Theo considered it. 

“Otay,” Theo said at last, sighing dramatically as he reached for Tommy, “Can we get a kitty?” He asked curiously a second later, giggling softly. Billy sighed as he brought his hand up to his head, glad that he’d at least be able to drink tonight. 

“Sabrina,” You huffed, reaching around blindly as she led you to the table, “I don’t think a blind date really consists of this.” Your shoes dragged against the floor, nearly taking you out before she balanced you out once again. 

“No,” She laughed from behind you, “But it’s fun on my part.” She added mischievously, making you roll your eyes as you wondered how you got here in the first place. Your first free night and you were going to be spending it with some stranger, when you would’ve certainly preferred to be on your couch in your pajamas with a bowl of noodles on your lap. 

“This is humiliating.” You whined, thinking of how badly your feet hurt from being at the mall all morning. You’d tried on so many dresses that you almost couldn’t remember what you were wearing. 

“His friends are doing the same,” She reassured you, patting your shoulder and jerking your hand back so you could grip the chair. You plopped down slowly, exhaling roughly, “And here he comes.”

“Right now?” You asked worriedly, listening as she gave a sound of confirmation, “How do I look?” You questioned her blindly, trying to search where she was standing. 

“Like a million bucks.” She reassured as she squeezed your shoulders, keeping your head tilted forward. You reached for the blindfold, only to be swatted away by her hands. 

“Fuck-,” A raspy voice cursed in front of you, making you jolt as the whole table shook, “That was the fucking table.” He cursed, leaving you alarmed as you wrinkled your nose up. Why would Sabrina think you’d want to date someone with such a potty mouth? Still, something about him felt familiar. 

“Oops,” Another guy spoke up, his voice a little higher pitched, “Uh there you go. Perfect.” You listened as the chair creaked from the rough way the guy sat down. You felt a little less tense suddenly, hoping that the two of you could laugh off your dumb friends. 

“This is fucking dumb.” The one with the raspy voice continued to state his opinion, grumbling as you suddenly grew nervous. Okay, maybe he was more upset about this than you were. 

“Your date is right here,” The other guy laughed nervously as if to remind him, “Okay, I’m just gonna-,” He trailed off, leaving you in confusion until you felt hands against your blindfold.

It fell at the same time his did, your eyes meeting the familiar blue eyes from across the table. Your jaw dropped as you took in Billy’s neat hair, his stunned expression and flushed cheeks. You turned to Sabrina, about to argue with her before she took slow steps away from you. A safe distance.

“Steve, you bastard.” He snapped his head around, anger knitted onto his features as he reached out like he was going to smack at him. The other guy, Steve, ducked before he rushed away. But he didn’t make it far. He tripped, or became too top heavy as he fell head first into a waiter’s tray full of several drinks. 

“Should we help him?” You asked in horror, bringing your hands up to your mouth as you watched the way his friend squirmed on the wet floor. He was covered from head to toe in whatever drinks he had knocked into. 

“Asshole deserved it,” Billy mumbled, “What’s a little more head trauma to him?” He questioned himself, snorting as he pinched at the bridge of his nose. 

You glanced away from his soaked friend, turning your attention back to Billy fully. As much as you were irritated, and betrayed, you couldn’t deny that he looked good. Like really good. His shirt held onto his shoulders nicely, showing off his broad edges. Majority of the buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing his warm skin and toned abs. You turned away quickly, pretending like you hadn’t been drooling over him.

“I’m kidding.” He shook his head, still irritated as he popped a menu open. He sat back in his seat lazily, stretching his legs out between yours. You shifted a bit, pressing your knees tightly together to prevent him from touching you.

“You’re staying?” You asked in disbelief, sure that he would’ve taken this opportunity to get up and walk away. To leave you to wallow in your own disappointment. It was your own fault anyways for thinking that Sabrina would actually listen to the type of guys you liked. 

“He gave me his card,” He replied with a little shrug of his shoulders, “Where’s the expensive shit?” He flipped the menu around, still clearly frustrated as he looked over everything. 

You snorted, unable to really help yourself as you brought your palm up to your hand once again. You did your best to keep from touching your face, not wanting to smear your makeup that you had worked so long on. He drifted his blue eyes up from the menu, looking at you inquisitively.

“What?” He asked as he sat the menu down on the table, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. You took a deep breath, unsure of how he didn’t think this was funny. It was an obvious set up, for a reason you didn’t understand. You were fine not dating anyone.

“It’s just no wonder that Theo gets confused about bad words.” You said calmly, blinking slowly at the way he narrowed his eyes. You had obviously struck a nerve, but it was also the truth.

“Nothing wrong with expressing himself,” He repeated as he chewed on his bottom lip, “And your humor just sucks.” He challenged you as he leaned forward, cocking an eyebrow as he waited for you to strike next.

“What do you mean?” You asked him in disbelief. You were hilarious. You had a classroom full of toddlers to prove it. They loved your jokes and remarks. 

“Kids cursing is hilarious.” He said in a matter of fact way, his lips curling into a grin as you sat back in your chair. You shook your head for a moment, trying to figure out why you two were arguing about this. 

“And the daycare doesn’t allow it,” You grinned sweetly as you pulled your menu open, “Sorry about that.” You remarked as you shook your head, unsure of why you were scanning the menu and not leaving. You should get up and leave.

“So everyone has sticks up their asses,” He nodded his head as he rubbed his chin, “Good to know that you don’t do it on purpose.” He sighed softly, briskly as he tapped his fingers against the table. His rings gleamed against the light from the restaurant as you felt a laugh burst free from your lungs. You quickly covered your mouth, ignoring his curious look as you continued to laugh.

“Sorry,” You apologized, wondering where on earth your waiter was at, “That comment about the cursing was out of line too. But you do have a potty mouth.” You said seriously a second later. He looked at you surprised, like he couldn’t believe you were apologizing. You had clearly gotten off on the wrong at some point, but you couldn’t recall where. 

“I guess you don’t always have a stick up your ass,” He mumbled as he tapped his fingers against the table, “You’re not so bad right now.” He admitted as he languidly dragged his eyes back towards you. 

“Thanks,” You rolled your eyes at his answer, figuring he’d have something snarky to repeat, “I think I’m just going to go.” You replied a moment later, feeling a little awkward to be sitting here with Billy of all people. You suddenly felt far too overdressed as an uncomfortable feeling set over you. 

“Why?” He asked dryly, almost sounding bored as he twisted his rings around his fingers. You stared for just a second too long, just to confirm that none of them were wedding rings. 

“Do I really need to explain?” You asked him as you tilted your head, furrowing your eyebrows at his need for clarification. You thought that the two of you hating each other was a good enough fact. Why would you want to have dinner with him?

“This doesn’t have to be a date,” He chuckled as he watched you, “You got something better to do?” You watched the necklace dangle over his golden skin, making your body warm as you straightened your shoulders out a little bit. You would not ogle at him. 

“No.” You admitted as you slunk back into your seat. You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out what he was playing at. The last time you’d seen him he had basically accused you of stalking him. And now it was like he was convincing you to stay. 

“Might as well stay then,” He shrugged his shoulders, “Besides, Steve is paying for whatever you want.” He grinned, waving the card in the air before he motioned the waiter over. You debated it for a short second before you relaxed. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. 

And it wasn’t. For the most part. Just a smidge awkward, too tense as you both did your best to avoid really talking to one another. Part of you wished that you were on a real date with someone that you really liked. But you couldn’t deny that Billy was nice to look at, even a little funny if you were being genuine.

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it but uh, I like your dress,” Billy spoke up, eyes twinkling from the warm lights as he slid Steve’s card back into his wallet, “You look really nice.” He told you a moment later, leaving you a little surprised. 

“I can tell,” You replied as you shook your head, “You’ve been looking at my chest all night.” You remarked playfully, speaking the truth. There had been more than one occasion that you had caught him staring. It made your skin buzz as electricity traveled through your veins and left you unnaturally warm. 

“You can have your tits out for money but I can’t compliment them?” His tone was sarcastic but brash, leaving your jaw dropping at his rude remark. His smile dropped instantly, as if he knew he struck a nerve. 

“You-,” You huffed, suddenly feeling humiliated as his words settled on top of you, “You’re unbearable.” You told him seriously, teeth gritted as you rose from your chair. Anger boiled against your bones as you marched out of the restaurant, unsure of why you had given him the benefit of the doubt in the first place.

“It was a joke,” He rounded on you quickly, legs keeping in pace easily with the way your shoes were snapping against the concrete. You held your fingers into fists, trying to control your rage, “You can’t really be that sensitive, can you?” He took a hold of your arm softly, tugging you back to face him.

“You’re an asshole,” You spit out, shoving at his shoulder as the rage boiled over and spilled out, “You dickhead. Bastard. Imbecile. Nincompoop.” You spit out all of the words that were brewing on the tip of your tongue. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” He asked, lips curling into a gentle smile, “Because I’ve heard a lot worse.” He replied with a nod of his head before his smile turned into a smirk. You inhaled deeply as your arm burned from where he had touched you. But not because of how hard he was gripping you.

“I hate you.” You snapped at him, suddenly sure that a career change would be no issue as long as you never had to see his face again. His eyes widened for just a moment before his expression turned stoic, hiding away whatever he was feeling. 

“I’m not crazy about you either.” Came his remark as he narrowed his eyes at you. You both stared at each other intensely, the air around you full of energy and tension as you stood toe to toe. You could practically feel his warmth from where he stood, could smell the mint that lingered on his tongue. 

The electricity from his palm on your skin spread across your skin, traveling through your body as your chest rose and fell heavily. His eyes were fierce as he looked over your features, mirroring what you were doing. It took you a brief second to look at the soft freckles on his golden skin, at how his lips seemed to be red and soft. Too soft.

His hand traveled up the curve of your arm as your heart hammered roughly inside of your chest, hard enough that you were sure it would leave bruises. His eyes were suddenly too intense, too real as he tilted his head towards yours.

Your thoughts disappeared at the feeling of his mouth crashing against yours. His lips glided smoothly, deeply as he moved his large palms to cup your face. You sighed against his parted lips, accepting his rough kiss as you moved your lips with as much fury.

It was messy, full of spit and teeth and tongue as you gripped his wrists tightly. You wanted to pull him closer and shove him back at the same time, unable to really decide as a fire spread through your body. You felt like you’d melt away, drip into the crevices of his fingers as he flicked his tongue against yours.

“Your place?” He whispered as he pulled away, nose brushing against yours oh so lightly as he flicked his blue eyes to meet yours. You breathed in deeply, feeling as if you were sharing the same lungs as you quickly nodded your head. You lived close.

The walk, or rather jog, to your apartment was rushed and quick. His hands were everywhere, caressing your exposed thighs and gripping at your flesh. You felt breathless, laughing with wobbly legs as you tried to blame it on the glass of red wine you’d downed. Surely that was it.

The door barely shut behind the two of you before he was on you again, lips caressing and melting against yours as you blindly led him to your room. His hands palmed at your ass, at your boobs before he moved them back up to your face. 

He gripped the back of your neck, tugging you closer as his mouth crashed roughly against yours. He kissed you deeply, stealing the air from your lungs as his hands moved to the back of your dress. He roughly tugged your zipper down, letting your dress fall at your feet as he continued to drag his lips against yours.

Your mind felt fuzzy, knees weak as his calloused palms fell to your hips. He gripped your flesh, earning a soft sigh from your mouth as he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned as he slid his tongue inside, curling and twisting it against your own. Pleasure swept through your body, your veins burning as if they’d been lit on fire.

His hand rose to your jaw, gripping you softly as he tugged you away briefly. Just a few inches. He stared at you, lust swimming in his blue eyes as he observed you. You were grateful for his touch on you suddenly, fearing that you may fall to your knees if he didn’t have a hold on you.

You felt your heart beating roughly underneath your skin, pounding against your bones as he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. You were still partially dressed, but had never felt so exposed before. Something in the way he looked at you left your skin tingling, left your mind foggy. 

You didn’t have time to react before he spit, literally spit against the side of your mouth. You flinched, feeling the saliva drip down the side of your cheek as you gasped in surprise. You knew you should feel disgusted, feel horrified. But you didn’t. 

You flicked your tongue out against your cheek, licking away his drool slowly as his eyes turned lustful at your motions. You felt your own moan pouring off of your tongue from the sinful act, the dirty action. His spit tasted like nothing but you still craved it. 

You lept first this time, pressing your lips against his mouth in a desperate manner. Lust filled your veins, spreading through every inch of your body as you moved your hands to his warm chest. You fiddled with his buttons blindly, trying to remove it as quickly as possible before you combusted.

He moved his hands down with yours, breaking his lips away from yours as he quickly tugged down his pants and underwear in a quick motion. Your eyes widened as you stared at his toned body, breathing in every inch of him before you landed upon his hard cock.

His tone was slightly lighter than the rest of his body, his tip a bright red as you admired the rest of his girth. Your throat suddenly felt dry as you reached forward, wrapping your fingers loosely around his thickness.

“Fuck,” He cursed, surpsing you as he spoke for the first time. You lifted your gaze to him, eyes feeling heavy as you tightened your fingers around his girth and began to stroke him slowly, “Jesus.” He breathed out, spurring you on as you fell to your knees.

You ignored the way your pulse was racing, focusing instead on how good he felt against your skin. You continued to pump him slowly, sticking your tongue out to flick away the precum that was leaking from his slit. 

He huffed, groaning softly underneath his breath as he stared down at you. You continued to teasingly lick across the head of his cock, too nervous to actually look him in the eye. It would feel too real if you did so. 

He was almost too thick for you, at least thicker than what you were used to. Your lips burned as you adjusted to his girth, your jaw aching as you slowly began to bob your head along the curve of his cock. You gripped a hold of his thighs, keeping yourself balanced as you did your best to keep from gagging once his tip hit the back of your throat.

You swirled your tongue along the base of his cock, tracing the vein that rested there as drool fell from the corners of your lips. His groans of pleasure traveled through your ears, leaving you restless as you felt your clit vibrating in anticipation.

“Wait,” He mumbled, drawing your eyes up towards him for the first time. His eyebrows were knitted together in awe, lips parted as he moved his hands gently towards your shoulders. He shoved you back a bit, releasing his hard cock from your mouth as you just continued to stare. He was so pretty, “Wanna feel you.” He breathed out as he held onto the back of your arms and tugged you onto your feet.

You had never felt someone so strong before, gripping you in such a way before he pushed you onto your mattress. You yelped, your air leaving your lungs once again as your bed moved underneath your weight. He smirked, all cocky and smug as he joined you on the bed.

His fingers were hot against your skin as he dipped them in between the swell of your boobs. You were sure he could feel your heart thumping roughly as he gently traced his fingers across your ribs to reach for the straps on your bra.

You sat up on your elbows, knees bent as he pressed his way in between you. His mouth lingered near yours, leaving your mind fuzzy as you listened to the very loud click of your bra coming undone. 

It fell off with ease, drifting off of your shoulders as his lips fell to your exposed collarbone. You dropped your head back to the pillow, inhaling deeply as he trailed his mouth across your skin. He kissed across your boobs, licked at your hardened nipples before he traveled further down.

His air was warm against your clothed cunt, hot as he looped his fingers through the bands of your panties. He tugged on them, tearing them in two and leaving it as he pressed his fingers against your skin before he exposed your cunt to him. You gaped, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth as he pressed his lips against your swollen clit. 

He languidly flicked his tongue across your wet folds, pushing a squeal out of your mouth as you felt a bubble of moans forming inside of your chest. Your toes curled at the sensation, shivers spreading across your skin as he rolled his tongue across your clit. 

“Billy,” His name bursted free from your lips, the pleasure spreading through your body with fierce electricity as his strong palms fell to your hips. He groaned against your slick cunt, sighing at the taste of you before he pulled his head up to look at you, “Please. I want you.” You whispered softly, almost afraid that it might get to his head. You didn’t want to stroke his ego too much. 

“Bet you do,” He grinned cockily, sealing your worried thoughts as he delivered a brief smack against your pussy. You whined at the jolting sensation, your hips pathetically grinding up against his fingers as he crawled back onto his knees, “You’re such a desperate little whore, ya know that?” He asked, making your eyes widen as he tapped his dick against your clit.

“Mhm, yeah,” You spit out in surprise of yourself, gasping as he rubbed his free hand against your lips. You tasted yourself briefly, feeling a little stunned at how filthy his mouth was, “Just for you.” You nodded your head, gasping as he gripped your thigh and spun you onto your hands and knees.

Your mattress felt odd in this position, with your ass in the air and your face pressed roughly into your pillow. He squeezed lightly at the base of your neck, earning a soft moan from you before he tickled his fingertips across the curve of your spine. You inhaled once, then twice before he smacked the side of your ass.

“Billy,” You huffed out, enjoying the stinging sensation that traveled from where his palm had landed, “I need your cock. Please.” You begged again, whining as you kicked your feet against the side of the bed. You hushed once again as he hit the other side of your ass, making you whimper.

“Such a dirty girl,” He whispered, shifting closer until your thighs were pressed together. You were unable to breathe suddenly as his fat tip pressed against your leaking hole, circling it playfully before he was sliding into you, “Pretty little whore.” He mumbled as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Your walls stretched around his thick girth, clamping down tightly around him as he slid in slowly inch by inch. You inhaled a second later, sure that you only pulled him deeper inside of you as his hands moved tightly to your hips.

“God,” You whined pathetically, mind too fuzzy with pleasure to form any real words, “Billy!” You mumbled, gaping as he bottomed out inside of you. You could feel him throbbing against your wet walls, the head of his cock pressed right against the spongy area deep inside of you. You could feel every curve and vein of him, admiring how it felt like he belonged inside of you.

He chuckled, his tone slightly broken up by his groan as he leaned down over your ass. You stuttered, drool falling from your lips at the angle he pressed his cock into as he moved your hair from your face. You blinked lazily, barely able to whimper as he licked the saliva away from the corner of your lips.

“See,” He mumbled as he dug his fingertips into your flesh, sending another jolt of pleasure down to your clit, “It’s not so hard to be nice, is it?” He asked, breath warm against your skin as you shook your head no.

“I’m nice,” You pleaded, fingers curling into fists as you slowly began to rock yourself back against him. You moaned deeply, craving the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of your walls. You’d never felt so stretched before, felt so full, “Real nice.” You nodded your head, moaning as he spit against the side of your mouth again.

You didn’t care how dirty it was, how filthy he treated you or that he called you a whore. You’d never felt such pleasure before, such a rush in your system. You truly felt full of life, your mind relaxed and heart full as he began to grind his cock in and out of your glistening hole.

Small moans and whimpers left your mouth as he dragged you back against him, your skin smacking against his at the rough way he pressed his cock inside of you. The tip of his dick hit against your bundle of nerves each time, making you whine and cry out as your pussy leaked around him.

“Fuck, fuck,” He cursed, fingers reaching around to press against your clit as he rutted inside of you, “You look so pretty around my cock.” He hummed, leaning back enough to get a good look at the way your cunt squeezed his fat girth. 

You felt numb as he continued to rock himself deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting your bundle of nerves with each intense thrust. He moved to your ass, kneading your cheeks before he spread them. 

His spit hit your rim, making you a jolt in awe as shivers raced up your spine. You cried out, your moans bouncing off of the walls as his spit trailed down to your already wet cunt. He groaned loudly, deeply as he continually hit the spot that made you see stars. 

“Feels so good,” You breathed out roughly, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he fucked the bitterness and angry feelings out of you. You couldn’t remember why you’d been upset in the first place. All you could focus on was the way your pussy burned as he slid his hard cock in and out of you, “Oh my God.” You spit out, raising a bit on your elbows to push yourself back further against him. 

He groaned, filling your ears with music as his balls smacked against your slick skin. Whines burst free from your lips to match his deep sounds, meshing with the sound of your cunt squeezing along his cock. It was too much. The pleasure crashed over you in an unbearable way, pushing you underneath the waves as your toes curled and muscles contracted.

You came with a cry, the flat part of your feet smacking against the mattress as he continued to drag you roughly against the length of his cock. Your moans came out in thick garbles, drool pouring from your lips as you forced your eyes shut.

“Jesus Christ,” He huffed, pulling you back faster against him as his movements became more desperate. You could feel him twitching inside of you, throbbing as your walls clamped down around his girth, “Fuck, fuck!” He spit out before he removed his dick entirely, leaving your walls clenching around nothing as he jerked his hand along his cock roughly.

You felt his warm spunk landing on your ass, on your spine and up near your shoulder blade as you tried to catch your breath. You whimpered at the feeling, enjoying the sound of his breathless moans as he dragged his fingers across your skin.

He turned you again, treating you as if you weighed nothing as he gave you a smug grin. Your chest was still rising and falling harshly, mind muddled as he smeared his cum against your lips. It took you a moment to realize that before you licked it away, savoring his taste on your tongue.

Your eyes felt hazy, droopy as you licked it away from your lips. You felt your heart pounding in a new way as an unknown sensation spread through your body. His forehead was near yours, nose dragging against the tip of yours as you shared the same breath. 

Well shit. 

Tags: @cassandracorvo @marshmallowgem @shes-an-odd-bird @stormy-stardust @highwaywildflower

[thelaisydazy]

small blurbish ask,,

ff!simon who has a crush on you - who helps rescue your cat from the tree outside your apartment building who insists on carrying her inside to your apartment so she “doesn’t accidentally run away” or something but it’s actually because he wants the interaction to go on forever because he enjoys being around you :,)

He's so sneaky like that I swear. He'd do anything to spend time with you

You watch as Simon climbs down the ladder, your little black kitten nestled safely in his strong arms. You hurry over as he steps off the ladder, reaching to take the tiny fuzz ball from him. Simon doesn’t let you though, holding onto the kitten. 

“Might run’way again,” Simon says. He holds your cat gently, his gloved fingers ever so carefully petting it. “I’ll carry her inside..”

“Oh, alright,” you say, a little hesitant. Simon had never been inside your apartment before. He’d walked you home from the station plenty of times, but never inside. You lead him up the stairs and into the tiny apartment. It’s modest but decorated in your favorite color with a dried bouquet of your favorite flowers hanging near the door. 

As Simon walks inside, he nudges the door closed behind him with his foot, still holding your cat. He looks around, taking in the way you’ve made this place your own. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy,” you say, feeling awkward. His brown eyes are on you again. He’s always watching you when he’s around, like there’s no one else but you.

“Is fine,” he says. He finally releases your cat, who hops down, brushing against his leg before finding her usual spot on your couch. 

“Thanks again,” you say. “Could I get you some tea?”

He perks up at the offer, and he nods a little quicker than he would have liked. You smile at him, telling him he could sit on the couch while you boil some water. 

Several minutes later, you return to your living room to find your cat curled up in Simon’s lap, purring loudly. You giggle a little at the sight, making Simon turn to look at you, freezing as he pets the cat. 

“She usually doesn’t like strangers,” you say. “She must like you.”

[herlondonboy]

5 Times You Flirted With Wednesday And 1 Time She Flirted Back

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!reader / Enid Sinclair x platonic!reader

Summary: what the title says

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, y/n being down bad, I got lazy after the second one, also I wrote it when I was half asleep, google translated Spanish (sorry if it’s wrong). lmk if there are any more !!

Word Count: 1.1k

1.

The first time you’d flirted with Wednesday Addams was completely subconsciously, honestly. You walked into your friend’s dorm and froze at the sight of Enid watching with a frown as she took the colour off the window on her side.

“Holy shit.” You mumbled, completely blown away.

Enid turned to you, but you were too enthralled by the mystery in front of you to look away. You tilted your head and admired her jawline and braids. Her fringe were scary, it was so perfect, like she just hopped off the Hairspray set. When she was done, she kicked the translucent vellum paper mindlessly onto Enid’s half. When you looked down, you saw the duct tape line and jumped over to Enid’s side.

“Oh, Dios mío. Cómo puede una persona ser tan perfecta?” You asked aloud and Wednesday turned to you as you blushed.

Her eyebrow was raised slightly as she looked on through her eyelashes. “di algo así otra vez, y perderás la lengua.” Her words were so smooth and calm, you almost forgot that she was threatening you.

You held back a smile at her glare and bounced over to Enid’s bed. The floorboards screeched in pain that went ignored by the people in the room as you sat on the brightly coloured bed. Enid rolled her eyes at the look on your face and sat next to you. She dared you to say what was on your mind.

You shook your head and she nodded, pleased. You began spending more time in Enid’s dorm and less in Yoko’s. And Wednesday was already sick of you by the second week at Nevermore, but you didn’t let that get you down.

2.

The second time you shamelessly flirted with Wednesday was during the Poe Cup. Or after, really. Wednesday had been coerced onto the team by Enid after Bianca poisoned Yoko with Garlic. Your team had won and Wednesday, you, Enid and the fourth person - one of Enid’s other friends - stood on the stairs as Headmistress Weems handed Enid the trophy. The celebration of the Black Cats beating the Sirens (really just anyone beating the sirens for the first time in years) had everyone but Bianca cheering.

Wednesday went back to her dorm and you followed her. When you got there, you leaned on the doorframe. “You should wear the suit more often, Cat-Woman.” You said as Wednesday sat down at her desk.

“Cat-Woman is chaotic good; I’m neutral evil.” Wednesday muttered mindlessly, clicking away on her typewriter.

You shrugged and made your way to her desk. You jumped onto an empty space and began swinging your legs near Wednesday as it took everything within her not to rip you apart. Limb. By. Limb.

You went to pick up a sheet of paper from the desk, but that idea was quickly shot down when Wednesday slapped your hand away. “Touch them again and you’ll lose your hands.”

“Wednesday, all this threatening is making me feel some way.” You shifted on the desk before jumping off and gaining Wednesday attention.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“My dorm… Unless you want me to stay.” You smirked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, y/n.” Wednesday said emotionlessly, as always. “Enid will want to celebrate with you, so you should probably stay, though.” She then muttered, turning away from you so that you couldn’t see her face.

You shrugged and nodded, walking over to Enid’s bed and just watching Wednesday in a comfortable silence until your friend came.

3.

The next time you were all eating lunch. Wednesday had decided to eat with you for the first time since she’d been at Nevermore. It had only taken her two and a half months. Much to both of your luck, the only free seat by the time she had gotten there was next to you and opposite Enid.

Wednesday didn’t make a sound as she sat down next to you. You opened your mouth, but Wednesday held her hand up, stopped you. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not even if it’s to say how ravishing you look in that jumper?” You asked with a small smirk.

Enid cleared her throat, making you and look away from each other and to the blonde. “What have i told you about flirting with my friends?” Enid scolded you as you dropped your head.

“You told me not to.” You mumbled. “But can you blame me? Look at her.” Wednesday whacked your hand away when you motioned to her.

“Honestly, y/n, go touch some grass.” Yoko called out from the other side of the table, rolling her eyes.

“Te sugiero que cuides tu boca.” Wednesday said.

You smirked. “Eres inexplicablemente caliente cuando estás enojado.”

“Don’t make me regret eating with you.”

4.

The fourth time was also an accident, much like the first time. You were lying on Wednesday’s bed (it was shocking that she hadn’t tried to stab you the moment you crossed over the line, I know), scrolling through your camera roll when a picture you’d taken without her knowledge.

You smiled at it. Nothing could ruin this feeling of serenity. Nothing but Wednesday lying next to you. Actually, no. She didn’t ruin it. She made it better. “You’re so pretty, Wednesday.” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them and your cheeks warmed up quickly. “I’m sorry.” You said quickly, looking away from her.

“Thank you.” Wednesday murmured, pushing her back against the bed frame. You widened your eyes. “Don’t make me take it back.”

5.

The last time you’d flirted with Wednesday was after she’d defeated Joseph Crackstone. After being all bloody and bruised, you pushed your way through the crowd to look for her. “Enid, where’s Wednesday?” You asked the blonde hurriedly, eyes darting around.

“y/n? What happened?” Enid asked, looking at you, searching for any extensive wounds.

“Most of it’s Tyler.” You whimpered, hugging yourself.

The chittering of the Outcasts suddenly died down and everyone turned to the gate where Wednesday walked out. You sighed in relief before running towards her. In that moment it was just the two of you. She winced as your body collided with hers in a hug and furrowed eyebrows before pushing you away.

“Fancy seeing you here, gorgeous, huh?” You mumbled.

The one time Wednesday flirted back, you got a mere: “You look good covered in blood.” She had joked. The look on her face was still deadpan as she once-overed your body for any lethal wounds. “Are you okay?” You nodded. Wednesday’s lips quivered as she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

You sobbed into her shoulder. The thought of nearly losing her to Tyler still fresh in your mind as your own shoulders shook. Wednesday held you tight. Seeing you wolf out to save her and almost get killed by Tyler was the last thing on her mind. Sure, she couldn’t stand physical contact, but having you in her arms was what she had longed for since she first heard the words you muttered on her second day at Nevermore.

[irkimatsu]

You know how cats will nose bump/head bump their humans sometimes? Imagine drunk!husk doing that to his crush. Maybe reader helps him to his room and tries to tuck him in bed but he drags them down with him. Nuzzling and showing affections. Maybe they wake up in his arms and he's all flustered and reader tells him what happened. He's all embarrassed but reader just tells him that they feel the same way.

I went full on cute for this one. <3 Spicy implications but nothing actually happens, Husk is just drunk off his shit. Cuddling and nuzzling and confessions ensue. SFW, GN!Reader, about 1.7k words.

---

You’ve had a fun night out with the more adventurous members of the Hotel, but Husk has gone way too far this time.

What you expect from him when drinking is contradictory. You know he has a problem. He fully admits it, and refuses to get any help, insisting that he functions better at a certain level of drunkenness than he’s capable of while sober. You do have to admit, you’re darkly impressed at how much he can drink while still standing upright.

Because of this, you fully expect him to drink too much on nights out, but you never expect to see him full-on drunk.

You were the first one to notice his head dipping as he sat at the bar, shot glass in hand.

“Hey… ‘nother one!” he slurs out at no one in particular. “C’mon… glass is empty…”

You wonder if bars in Hell have a policy to not serve visibly intoxicated patrons, and if that’s why the bartenders appear to be ignoring him.

“Husk?” you say sweetly, as if speaking to a child, as you try to remove the glass from his hand. “I think you’ve had enough…”

“I’m fine,” he slurs as he tightens his grip on the glass. “Hey. Buy me another one.”

“No,” you say simply as you try prying his fingers off the glass. “This is too much, even for you.”

“I got this, baby, don’t worry…” he says, his voice growing rapidly more incoherent. “Just want another sip…”

“We’re going back to the hotel,” you say simply.

“No we’re not,” he protests. “Heeey… anyone? ‘Nother drink…?”

You decide to try a different tactic. “I want to go back to the hotel, and I don’t want to walk there alone.”

“Ohhh… okay, I gotcha.” He hops down from the stool, and you catch him under his arms before he can fall to the floor. “I’ll walk you home, then come back. Could use some air… it’s fine…”

“Thanks for walking me,” you say, letting him believe he’s in charge even as he slumps against your side and shuffles his way out of the bar. You catch Angel’s and Cherri’s attention on your way out, and upon seeing Husk’s current condition, they have no further questions about why you two are heading out.

Husk doesn’t speak much on the walk home from the Hotel; all you get out of him are a few pained groans. At one point he starts heaving, and you desperately hope for his sake that he’s not about to vomit in the middle of the sidewalk, but you thankfully manage to arrive home without incident.

“Okay. I gotcha home. I’m going back to the bar,” he says as soon as you bring him through the door. Despite his statement, he makes no motion to actually leave.

“Could you bring me up to my room?” you ask. “Make sure I get up the stairs okay?”

“You that drunk?” he asks. “Well, if ya are, yeah, I’ll help…”

You let him continue thinking he’s helping as you slowly walk him up the stairs. His head keeps dipping, and you wonder if he’s going to black out before you make it, but he’s still somewhat conscious by the time you make it to his door.

“You got your key?” he asks, seemingly unaware of where he is.

“Yeah. Just a second…” He thankfully doesn’t notice you slip your hand into his pocket for his card key. You unlock the door and drag him inside with minimal protest.

“All right, get some sleep… I’m just… gonna…” Still standing, he slumps further against your side and lets out a snore-like sound.

“Yeah. Get some sleep.” Assuming he’s fully lost consciousness by now, you drag him over to the bed. As you try to figure out how to get him onto the mattress in a halfway-comfortable position, he bumps his head into your neck and purrs.

“You smell nice…” he says with a laugh.

“Oh! Um… thank you…?” While you’re pretty sure Husk considers you a friend, he’s never been so openly complimentary before. “Here. I think you need to lay down…”

“Lay down? In your bed?” He laughs louder. “Ohhh… that’s why you wanted me to walk you home! Didn’t know you were so naughty…”

Your face turns beet red as you consider his implications. No. Absolutely not!

…not while he’s this drunk, anyway…

You try to shake that thought from your mind as you pull the covers back for him. “Here, I’ll help you up.” It’s difficult maneuvering him into the bed when he won’t stop nuzzling your neck, but soon you have his head resting on the pillows. You’re ready to walk away and never speak of this again, but before you can stand up straight, his arms wrap around your torso and rest his paws on your shoulder.

“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Your bed’s right here…”

“I’m just- um-” you stammer. You can’t think of an excuse before he’s pulled you into his bed. You teeter precariously on the edge, only his arms preventing you from falling to the floor, as he keeps nuzzling under your chin.

“Mmm… soft…”

You could say the same thing as his fur brushes against your skin.

“Tell?”

“Thanks for letting me take you home…” he continues over the rumbling purring in his chest. “I thought you couldn’t tell…”

You cannot be thinking that about him right now.

“Tell that I like ya,” he says before lightly licking the side of your neck, the rough barbs on his tongue making your toes curl.

“But it’s so hard askin’...” He nuzzles your neck again. “Haaa… this feels damn good… I really, really like ya…”

His grip isn’t that strong. It’d be easy for you to scramble away from him, maybe slap him across the face for being too forward.

But now that you’re here, you may as well stay.

Instead of moving away from him, you try to climb over him to get to the other side of the bed. He laughs and squeezes you tight once your body is above his.

“Mmm! Ready for that already? C’mon, we just got here… at least let me kiss ya first…”

He doesn’t try anything further as you attempt to move, and his grip opens easily enough to allow you to lay down on the other side of the bed. He doesn’t protest the changed position, but he does immediately cling to you again, this time nuzzling into your chest as he continues purring.

He looks so relaxed and at peace that you can’t help yourself. You slightly scratch behind one of his ears, causing him to purr louder and press more closely against you.

“Yeah, baby, that’s the spot…”

You wrap your other arm around his torso, and he moans.

“Babe…” he exhales as moves up to your neck and nuzzles there again. “I really… really like ya…” His voice fades away as he falls unconscious, still purring and pressing into you. If he expected anything else to come of tonight, it’s not happening now.

You don’t mind sleeping here for the night.

—

You wake up to a loud, pained groan.

“My fucking head…”

You roll over to see Husk sitting up, clutching his face in both paws. “How much did I fucking drink?” he asks himself. “How did I even-” He freezes, then slowly turns his head toward you. You both stare at each other in silence, his eyes wide as saucers.

“...what the fuck happened last night,” he asked, “and how can I apologize for it?”

“You’re fine,” you assure him. “I helped you get home last night. Do you remember leaving the bar?”

He shakes his head, only to wince in pain from the gesture.

“Not surprised. You were really far gone.”

“Fuck… I don’t like blacking out around other people…” he grumbles. “Next question… why are you here?”

“I walked you home and brought you to bed, and you didn’t want me to go,” you say. “And I guess I didn’t want to go either…”

His voice is stern and panicked now. “What the hell did I do? I swear to god, if I forced anything, I’ll-”

“You didn’t force anything!” you insist. “We just cuddled.”

He sighs in relief. “If you were okay with it, I guess that’s fine…”

“And you told me you liked me.”

“...okay, would have preferred to admit that while I could remember it…”

“...and you kept nuzzling my neck.”

Husk frowns, and his brow furrows. “Nuzzling.”

“Yeah. You were really into it, too.”

“Jesus Christ.” He returns his face to his hands. “I’d rather you told me we fucked.”

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask. “It was cute.”

“Exactly. I hate being a fuckin’ animal…”

You sit up next to him and wrap your arm around him from behind. “Husk…”

“Nuzzling. Nuzzling. I finally let you know how much I like you after months, and it’s because I got drunk and nuzzled you. What the hell kind of flirting method is that?!” He’s getting increasingly worked up. “Nuzzling! Who does that?!”

“Husk!” You call for him more loudly this time, snapping him out of his rant. “Husk, it’s fine! I thought it was sweet. And if I really didn’t want to, I always could have left.”

“Some first impression as a potential partner that was. Nuzzling… if we do get together I’m gonna need to cut that shit out…”

“No you’re not!” you assure him. “I know you’re… sensitive about it… but I like you, Husk. I like all of you. Even the cat parts.”

“Trust me, if we were still on Earth I would have made a way better confession. Might have even been somewhat sober for it.”

“I like the confession you gave me just fine.” You pull his head down onto your shoulder and hug him tight. “And if we’re gonna be together… I’d like it if you embraced who you are and how you show affection. I want every side of you.”

He doesn’t respond… but you can see that he’s eyeing your neck and waving his tail. “...so, um…”

“Go ahead.”

He hesitates for a second more before nuzzling into your neck again. You laugh at the ticklish feeling as you hold him tight. “Heh… I can smell me on you,” he says. “I kinda like it…”

You stroke behind his ears as he settles into comfort against you. “Enjoy it as much as you want…”

You just know that the longer you spend here with him, the more questions Angel and Cherri are going to ask your both as soon as you finally make it to the lobby.

It’ll be worth the questioning.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: world's cutest couple | kgv

summary | in the middle of lunch with his friends, gyuvin gets a text from your best friend saying that he needs to come to the library because you’re sobbing uncontrollably and she can’t get you to stop.

genre | kim gyuvin x gn!reader, fluff, university!au, there’s like fake angst

wc | 1.1k

a/n: hehe heeee heheeheeee

ft kep1 youngeun

USUALLY, when Gyuvin ate with friends, he tended to ignore his phone until the meal was over. He felt like it was rude to ignore his friends for the sake of whatever was happening online, and whatever people had to say to him could wait.

That didn’t mean he didn’t check his notifications, though. If there was an emergency, he would miss it, and that likely wouldn’t end well.

So, when he gets a text from Youngeun, your best friend, who never texted him, he automatically assumes the worst. As far as he was aware, the two of you were supposedly sitting in the library, studying for the test you had in your general psychology class. You were supposed to be there all day, no exceptions, even when he’d begged you to come hang out with him that night.

Obviously, he was going to read it. If Youngeun was texting him, something was happening.

‘Hey man,’ the text began, ‘hope I’m not interrupting anything.’

The typing bubble popped up in the corner of Gyuvin’s screen, and he started to filter out whatever Ricky and Matthew were talking about in favor of focusing on whatever Youngeun was about to tell him. ‘Your partner is crying uncontrollably in this study room and I can’t get them to stop. Please help. 3rd floor room 316.’

Immediately assuming the worst, Gyuvin hopped up from his chair, slinging his jacket over his shoulders. Ricky and Matthew looked up at them, halting their conversation when Gyuvin went to pick up his bag.

“What’s up?” Ricky asked, tilting his head. “Everything good?”

“Something’s up with [First],” Gyuvin replied, pushing his chair in. “Gonna go see what’s up. Sorry, guys.”

“No problem, man,” Matthew replied, shaking his head. “Hope everything’s okay.”

With that, he was half-jogging out of the dining hall, cringing at the temperature change when he walked outside. There was a light breeze that accompanied the setting sun, and he wasn’t wearing enough layers to fight off the chill it brought.

As he fast-walked to the library, Gyuvin’s mind began to wander from bad to worse, wondering what in the world could’ve gotten you going. You hadn’t turned in any big essays recently, nor had you applied for an internship that you could’ve been rejected by—so, he started to fear the worst. Maybe your cat at home, who he hadn’t been able to meet yet, had died, or maybe your childhood friend was diagnosed with cancer—it had to be something not good.

Gyuvin was so stressed out that he bypassed the elevator, walking straight towards the awful stairs that would lead him to the third floor. He practically ran up them, skipping two or three stairs at a time as his heart practically pounded out of his chest. When he finally made it to the room Youngeun said you were in, he threw the door open, panting from the amount of ground he’d covered in maybe 3 minutes.

Youngeun was sitting across from you at a table, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. She looked exasperated, a vein practically popping from her forehead. You, on the other hand, were face down on the desk, obviously crying from the way you jerked every couple of seconds.

Gyuvin wasted no time in walking in, dropping his bag next to the door and rushing towards you. He knelt next to you so his head would be level with yours, resting a hand on your back as comfortingly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, to which you sat up. Your face was red and puffy and tears were bunched in your eyes, dripping down your face and onto your shirt. Before Gyvuin could do anything else, you shoved your phone into his face.

On the screen was an Instagram post, from a popular account among students at your university. They posted anonymous comments from the student body, most of which were positive, and a vast majority were quite funny. He’d followed it himself, but he wasn’t exactly checking every single post they made.

“What—what’s this?”

“Read it,” you choked out, slamming your head down on the desk again. Gyuvin grabbed the phone from your hands, scanning over the black text in front of him.

‘There’s a couple I always see around campus that are soooo cute. Like, seriously, the world’s cutest couple. They’re campus celebrities to my friends and me, and we (not creepily) take pictures every time we see them together. The next slide is our favorite picture of them.’

Curious, Gyvuin swiped, and a small gasp escaped from his lips. It was a picture of the two of you from about two months ago, during a small university festival that had become a tradition over the years. Quite frankly, it was a very beautiful picture of the two of you—and a moment he was glad to see someone captured. Ricky had picked up a water gun and began spraying both of you, to which Gyuvin had picked you up to use you as a shield. You were laughing and so was he, and all he could think about was how beautiful you looked in the picture.

Then, when you let out a dejected sob, he realized what he was here for. “You’re crying over this?” he asked. You picked yourself up from the table again, sniffling and looking at him with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen.

“They called us the cutest couple in the world, Gyuvin,” you said. The moment you got that out, you hiccuped, holding back another loud cry. “And the picture. Oh my god, the picture.”

“It’s a nice picture,” he agreed, putting his hands on your cheeks. “I’m glad you’re so moved by the truth, honey.”

Youngeun snorted, spinning her pen in her hand. “Yeah, the truth. Sure.”

Gyuvin would have to comment and ask for them to send him the picture later. For now, though, he had to stop your crying and make sure you didn’t waste a bunch of your “precious” study time crying over something that he already knew.

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

[diremoone]

Serenity | Pedro Pascal.

Warning(s): | Female Reader, Legal Age Gap (Pedro is current age; Reader is 22+)

Note(s): Also, I really love Pedro’s hair in this gif. And his sweater. We love cozy sweaters. And him in general. Sue me lmfao. Might turn this into a series (short stories) if I feel good enough. I’m a slow-ass writer that’s for sure lmao

****

After spending almost a year apart, with nothing but simple video calls and two, one week-long surprise trip to see him in Alberta six months apart, Pedro was more than happy to be done with filming and walking through the front door of his home.

“I’m home!” he calls out into the empty expanse of the home you both share.

You don’t answer, but Baxter does.

The Continental Giant rabbit happily hops to him to greet him home, standing on his hind legs to prop his front ones on Pedro’s leg. He loves the sweet animal almost as much as he loves you.

The man chuckles and sets his bag down, running his hands and fingers behind Baxter’s ears and across the soft coat of black fur. The massive rabbit closed it’s eyes, greedily taking in the pets and rubs from his owner’s boyfriend.

“Holy shit!”

Pedro’s hands stop rubbing the giant rabbit the moment he hears your voice. Baxter, being so tuned into the emotion in the sound of your voice, gets down and hops out of your path as you rush down the stairs and right into your boyfriend’s arms. Your laughter is contagious, and Pedro laughs along with you as he twirls you around in the air like a princess.

He sets you back down on your own two feet, but his arms never leave you. Instead, they wrap around your torso and waist even tighter as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Pedro’s large hand cradles the back of your head, holding you steady against him. After so long being apart, being unable to cuddle or hug you, kiss you or make love to you, he was more than ready to savor his time with you, relish in your presence and the heft of your body nestled against his own.

“I missed you,” he mumbles. Pedro presses a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” you mumble in reply.

You had missed him so much. The last year had been awful without him. You missed his warmth and cuddles. You felt… bare without him, constantly missing his touch and his warmth. After being together for as long as you have, the world felt… empty. It didn’t seem as bright without him — not as funny. Pedro’s smile always lit up the room. And while he was away, your home was dull, not as vibrant. You missed him and his jokes, his humor and his lightheartedness filling the house with jovial laughter.

“I’m never leaving home again,” he declares. You giggle as Pedro’s lips press against your cheek.

“Never?”

“Never.”

He reluctantly pulls his arms away and gives you an Eskimo kiss.

Lord, you’ve missed him so much.

“I am hungry though,” he says, hands gently grasping your biceps. “Got anything to eat?”

His stomach growled faintly, making you snort.

“What? Plane food not good enough?” you tease.

“It left much to the imagination,” he responds jokingly.

“Well, it’s not much, but there are a few bean burritos from Taco—“

“I’ll take it.”

You laugh as he barges past you and into the kitchen, Baxter eagerly hopping along, hot on his trail.

****

When midnight rolls around, he’s the one that’s awake. Even after his plane trip, he doesn’t seem to be tired. All the exhaustion and tiredness from earlier seems to have vanished.

You’re the one that’s asleep, cheek smushed against his chest. His right hand is holding your left, resting on his waist as you sleep. It was like an owner and their cat: he didn’t want to move an inch, wanting to simply watch and admire your beauty.

There wasn’t a moment Pedro didn’t miss you. Every time he’d settled into bed at night or woke up, his first thoughts were of you — of how he hated the fact you weren’t with him. Pedro missed having you next to him in bed. He missed the warmth of your arms being draped around him as you slept, tucked into his neck and snoozing away in dreamland. He missed you not-so-stealthily sneaking up on him and surprising him with back hugs.

You were such a big part of his life that he physically felt the emptiness from you not being with him.

He closed his eyes and pressed a featherlight kiss on the top of your head. He rested his cheek atop your crown, tightening his hold on you.

“…’dorable.”

Pedro snickers. “You’re awake?” He presses another kiss to your forehead.

“Gotta pee…” you mumble, digging your nose into the fabric of his sweater, not wanting to get up. “And hungry too, ‘parently.”

“Want anything specific?”

“….” You grumble. “Pizza. Totino’s.”

“The square ones on the freezer?”

“Mmhmm…”

Pedro would’ve let you lay on him longer, also not wanting to get up, but then he heard your stomach let out a loud growl. It made him snicker again. He pried you off of him gently and pulled you by your hands to your feet.

“Go to the bathroom. I’ll fix it,” he tells you.

“Fix two.” You clear your throat. “You’ll need your own.”

Sleepy as hell, you ended up being in the toilet room longer than you would’ve. By the time you came back out, the pizza was half done and Pedro had a grin on his face. He wraps his cozy-sweater arms around you and pulls you to his chest.

“Taco Bell break?”

“No…” You giggle. “Just kinda sat on the toilet until I woke up enough.”

“You do that shit way too often. What if you fall over and hit your head?”

“That’s the point. Concentration to prevent that makes me be awake.”

You stay huddled together against the island counter until the pizza finishes. The beeper makes you jump and Pedro laugh, but when he forgets the potholder and cusses, it’s your turn to laugh.

He watches as your eyes crinkle while you laugh, bending slightly to hold your stomach. Your hair falls around your cheeks, adorably accenting your face. Your laughter dies into a toothy smile, tears at the corners of your eyes. You glow. It’s not the kitchen light — the color is wrong — that shines around you. It’s something else. His eyes don’t fool him. An aura of happiness surrounds you, and Pedro swears that you’re nothing short of an angel, one that’s meant for him and him only.

He’s missed this. He’s missed you. He’s missed your laughter. He’s missed the way your eyes crinkle at the corners as you break into a fit of giggles.

“Come on, let’s eat,” you say. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“I know. It’s a hard knock life,” you reply in a faux depressed-like manner, making him break into laughter.

The Totino’s was pretty good. It left you warm and fuzzy and full, lulling you back into a sleepy state. Pedro’s cozy sweater you wore did nothing but add to the desire to fall asleep.

Wiping the excess cheese off into the trash with a paper towel, you put the two pizza plates next to the sink. You’d do the dishes tomorrow.

A soft grip on your bicep made you turn around. “Come on, mi amor,” he murmurs, sweetly kissing the side of your head. “Let’s get you to bed. You look very tired.”

You couldn’t argue and let your boyfriend wrap his arm around your shoulder to lead you to bed.

You looked tired enough that Pedro decided against asking you to brush your teeth, especially with the way your eyes kept shutting and your head bobbing back and forth.

He couldn’t help but wonder to himself what in the world had you done all day to make yourself so tired??

You’re asleep instantly at the moment your cheek rests on his chest, the room peaceful and quiet; the serenity of his home perfect after the noise he encountered on his way home.

Pedro’s arms wrap around you, and before he falls into slumber, he acknowledges that his life is pretty damn perfect.

[ddejavvu]

Helloooo omggg I love your blog sm I have a request that’s terrible so don’t feel pressured to do it lmao

I’m afraid of escalators- everytime ya girl tries to get on one since I got a foot injury I fall :(( but I was just at the airport and had to go on a bunch SO- Aaron Hotchner holding hands everytime we have to go on an escalator-

Working to hunt and apprehend the country's most dangerous criminals should mean that you're not scared of much. You can handle flying, you take the jet constantly. Being mugged is something you know you'll likely withstand, even if you're injured, because you can fight back. You have no unique fears, like birds or butterflies or cats- well, that is, excluding escalators.

They're just not your forte. Each time you ride one you fear falling, the constant, steady movement something that you need to spend far more than three seconds analyzing before hopping on. Unfortunately, as you're currently tracking down information from the third floor of a major airport, escalators are a must.

Aaron boards before you, and you thank the heavens that it means he doesn't see you linger. You set your hand on the railing, gut sinking as you feel it relentlessly move beneath your fingertips. Turning, sucking, pulling you in, pulling you down, pulling you under. You're so busy watching the belt turn that you miss the way Hotch has asked you a question, then turned to wonder after your response, and found you unmoving at the base of the escalator.

"Y/L/N," He calls, and your white-hot face snaps up to meet his gaze, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." You nod, lifting your foot to board. But it won't lower itself onto the stairs in front of you. You briefly remember that it won't move on its own, that you'll need to control it, but you can't manage that, either.

Hotch scrutinizes you with a furrowed brow. When he has the evidence he needs, in your nervous glances and stiff limbs, he quickly descends the escalator, having moved even further away from you while speaking. He jogs down the stairs, moving himself faster than it's moving him, and nudges you out of the way to disembark.

"Come on," He urges, seeking out your hand in his own, "Grab the railing."

You lower your hand onto it with a shaky breath, and he squeezes your hand in encouragement. Your grip is loose enough for it to pass beneath you, but present, and he tugs you an inch forwards towards the escalator.

"I've got you," He pledges, holding your hand steadily, so that it grounds you, "Let's go."

He steps backwards onto the escalator, pulling you with him, and all of a sudden you're on it. He gives you no time to think, just pulls your hand so that your feet move too, and then you're doing it. Your legs feel locked, tight, and in danger of toppling you right over, and you fear you may be cutting off the circulation to Hotch's hand when you squeeze it, but if you are, he says nothing. He just stands there, glancing briefly backwards to ensure that he doesn't stumble while disembarking at the top.

"Good," He murmurs, a mere five seconds from the last stair, "Now, hold my hand, there you go, and- there."

He steps off, pulls you with him, then you're done. Then it's over, and you're standing fifteen feet higher than you had been before, feeling solid, unmoving ground below your feet.

"Hotch," You try, your voice painfully weak, "Um, I- I'm not-"

"It's alright." He brings his free hand to the one of yours that he's holding, sealing your hand between both of his and squeezing it warmly, "You don't have to tell me why, and you don't need to be embarrassed. Everyone's got something."

"Alright," You nod once, thankful for the out, but still in disbelief that you'd not only ridden an escalator, but that your boss had held your hand for the trip, and told you not to be ashamed, "Uh- thank you."

"Anytime." He nods, dropping only one of his hands. Anytime becomes right now, when he glances a few feet away at the next set of escalators, and that sinking feeling sets right back into your stomach.

"You can have a minute," Hotch uses your intertwined hands to lead you to a wall that you lean up against. To draw your mind away from the daunting mechanical hum of the escalators, you study Hotch's tie instead, not brave enough yet to look at his face.

After a moment, you speak: "Hotch?"

"Hm?"

"You said everyone has something."

"I did," He nods, anticipating your next question.

"What's yours?"

He takes a sharp breath in, then admits, "Mice."

Before you can react, though you'll gawp at him later for the answer, he drags you towards the next escalator.

"Ready?" He asks, and infers a yes when really you might have said no, stepping back onto the stairs.

It's a grueling ride, one that has you rife with nerves, but when you're finally standing on the third floor, you manage, "Mice?"

"Not important," He drops your hand to take your back instead, pushing you towards the help desk with vigor you don't typically see from your usually stoic boss, "Let's focus on our work, Agent."

[strniohoeee]

Polar

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader ⚠️SMUT⚠️

Synopsis:(based off my request I got earlier) while on a weekend get away, Matt steps out to the hot tub after having some anxiety, and asks Y/N to join, but then things get heated, more than just the water💧

Warnings⚠️: This is a smutty imagine. There’s just sex that happens in a hot tub, but there’s no real kinky-ness. Minors GET OUTTA HERE

Song for the imagine: Agora Hills- Doja Cat

This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact beyond this point⚠️

Laura had gotten the triplets, Madi and myself a cabin getaway in Boston so that we could all see eachother again after not seeing Madi for 3 months. Madi had flown in from LA, so after picking her up from the airport we immediately started driving to the cabin.

Matt was driving and I was in the passenger seat just jamming out to the music

“Y/N play Agora Hills” Nick said

“Fuck yes that’s my song” I said grabbing Matt’s phone and playing Agora Hills

Nick, Madi and I were all jamming and screaming the lyrics

“LOVE WHEN YOU HIT, AND SMACK TO, BABY LET ME LICK ON YOUR TATTOOS” I screamed, Matt looked over at me with a sly smirk

“WOAH I SAW THAT” Chris said pointing his fingers at us

“He doesn’t let me lick his tattoos” I said with a sad face

“You’re such a weirdo” Matt says laughing and blushing lightly

After he said that Looking for the hoes started playing by Sexyy Red

“SHAKE THAT ASS HOEEEEEE” I started screaming and Nick got on the seat pretending to shake his ass

“AYYYYY” I said turning around and smacking his ass

“Where’s my bills” Madi said pretending to throw cash on Nick

We were crying laughing at Nick's bizarre behavior, we spent the rest of the trip laughing and singing. Chris and I occasionally fighting because he thinks he’s right about everything

Eventually we get to the cabin and hop out stretching our legs, and grabbing our bags to head into the cabin

Once we get inside we run up the stairs to check the room situation. This is where we got confused. It was two bedrooms, one with 3 beds and one with 2 beds.

“What the fuck is this set up” Madi says laughing

“Who’s the idiot that did this” Matt said laughing

“Okay so I say me, Madi and Y/N in this room, and Chris and Matt in the other room” Nick said

“Why can’t Y/N be with me?” Matt said

“Uhhhh we’d prefer yall stay away from each other because yall are so feral” Nick said in a matter of fact way

“We are not” I said

“Mmm I beg to differ” Chris said

“You know what fine whatever” Matt said heading to the other room to set up his side of the room, Chris following after him

After we all settled in we decided to make something to eat for dinner, and watch some tv. This first night we just wanted to chill as the drive was kind of long up here.

“They got a jacuzzi” Chris yells as he comes running back inside

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” Madi says jumping up from the couch

“And it’s big too” Nick says looking out the window at the Jacuzzi

They decided to go into the jacuzzi but I wasn’t really feeling it, so I stayed in the living room watching Halloween 1978. At some point I went up to the room and decided to go to sleep.

After a while I opened my eyes to my phone buzzing. I looked around the room and saw Madi and Nick knocked out snoring slightly

I grabbed my phone and looked at the notification

Matt🥹

-hey I’m in the hot tub. Feeling up for it now pretty lady?

My heart flutter at the cute nickname he gave me

-Yeah I’ll be over in a few minutes :)

I got up and used the flashlight on my phone to look in my bag for my bathing suit, and once I found it I ran to the bathroom to change quietly. It was a deep forest green one piece that was super low cut, had the back completely open, and was cheeky style. It was a new suit that I knew would drive Matt wild

I put my pajamas back in the room and tiptoed down the stairs. When I got to the sliding door I could see Matt looking at his phone while I watched him like a creep. As I opened the door I felt the very chilly fall air nip at my skin, instantly shivering.

I stepped outside and closed the screen door, and walked over to Matt

“Hey baby” I said to him as I stepped up and into the hot tub allowing the warm bubbling water to soothe my shivering

“Hi pretty lady” he said putting his phone down

“Why are you up so late” I asked him as I walked over to him to sit next to him

“I was having a bit of anxiety for some reason, and decided to come to the hot tub and calm my mind” He said as I stroked his hair while looking at him talk

“What were you thinking about” I asked

“Nothing really just overthinking and I get anxiety, but I’m good now that you’re here with me” he says leaning into kiss me

After he pulled away I looked him with a sly grin

“Oh yeah” I said in a flirty tone

“Uhhh wish those dicks didn’t separate us” he said touching my arm and leaving kisses on it

“This is exactly why they separated us, we can not be left alone for more than 5 minutes without jumping on each other” I told him laughing a little bit

“How can I control myself when you look so beautiful all the time” he said leaning on my arm

“Well we’re alone now, and it’s 2am……we could have some fun” I suggested

“When you put it like that” he said biting his lip and grabbing me to sit on his lap

“Matt in the hot tub” I said after kissing him

“And why not?” He said kissing my neck

“Uhh seems unsanitary” I told him biting my lip as he kissed down to my breasts

“Kid, you’ll be fine” he said rolling his eyes and kissing my lips one more time

I had wrapped my arms over his neck and began to make out with him, slowly grinding my hips against his bulge

“Mmm fuck” Matt said throwing his head back a little bit

I took this opportunity to start kissing down his neck, lightly sucking in the areas I knew would make him putty in my hands

We continued to make out as I was grinding down on him, and he was groping my breasts

“Come on Matt I need you now” I told him giving him one last kiss

He slightly lifted me up, so he could pull out his dick, and then he pushed my bathing suit bottom to the side. Helping me slowly sink down onto his dick

“Fuck Matt I’ve missed this” I sighed into his neck as I slowly started grinding against him. He had his hands gripping my ass helping me

“Me too baby. Finally having some alone time” he said moaning as I clenched down on him

“Baby I’m getting tired” I said as my knees were starting to burn from scratching against the seat in the hot tub

“Okay pretty girl. Let me help” he said. I got off of him, and he turned me around walking me to the front of the tub, and he had me bend forward as he slid back into me. This made me grip onto the edge of the hot tub

“Oh shit Matt, oh my god” I moaned a little loudly as he was hitting all the right spots

“Shhh baby they can’t know” he said thrusting into me, and out of breath

Matt didn’t stop his ruthless pounding and my head fell down as I felt myself getting closer to my climax.

“Matt I’m going to cum please don’t stop” I told him gripping onto the edge of the hot tub even harder

For some reason this made Matt pound into me harder, and what I hadn’t realized was that my phone and three glass cups that Chris, Nick and Madi left behind were on the opposite ledge and were getting dangerously close to the edge.

Matt thrusted into me two more times at a vigorous speed, and on the third thrust all three glass cups, and my phone went crash onto the deck

“Fuck Matt. They might’ve heard” I said as he still fucked me

“No baby they didn’t don’t worry” He said getting close to his climax

“Oh Matt right there please” I said as he was hitting my G spot in such a delicious way

“I’m gonna cum” He told me, and I nodded my head leaning my head back in ecstasy. At the same time we both moaned out each others name and came so hard panting and gasping for air

“WHAT THE FUCK” we both heard as Matt was still in me and we were riding out our highs

“OH MY GOD” I screamed locking eyes with Chris, Nick and Madi

“What the fuck” Matt said as we both lowered ourselves deeper into the water so he could pull out of me, and pick his swim trunks back up

“What the fuck? We heard this big crashing sound that woke all of us up, and we thought someone had broken in” Madi says

“But it just turns out that loud sound was you two wild fucking animals fucking like your life depended on it” Nick said

“How much did you see” I asked embarrassed

“Lets just say your O faces are now engraved in my fucking head” Chris said starting to dry heave

“Exactly what I said. We can not leave them alone as they are like feral animals” Nick said

“Shut up and go away” Matt said flipping him off

“Yall I can not believe I’m about to do the walk of shame” I said getting up and out of the pool grabbing my phone off the deck

“Y/N spill all the tea please” Madi whispers to me as I walk past her, and into the cabin

“Sorry guys I truly did not mean for yall to see or hear anything” I said

“ITS TOO LATE” Chris said pretending to weep like a child

“My eyes are burning” Nick said

And Matt just walked in behind them and smacked them both

Matt and I both went upstairs to shower and change

And by this point it was 4am, so I decided to go to bed when I got a text on my phone

Matt🥹

-come lay with me?

-baby I won’t contain myself if I do I responded back to him

-true, okay get some rest, love you

-love you too matt

With that I ended up falling asleep, peaceful and sore ;)

The End

I know this one was short, but the request wasn’t too detailed, and I feel like how kinky can you get in a hot tub IDKKK, but I hope I didn’t disappoint @ whoever requested this 😚😚 My next Matt fic is going to be sad asffffff so get ready to cry

-J💅🏽

[moonstruckme]

Hey lovely! So I heard you're looking for asks for other than poly!marauders and I love them too, but here's one for tasm!peter parker x shy!reader maybe wherein reader is always saying sorry, like it's second nature to her

like peter gives her the coat she forgotten and she says oh sorry you had to come all the way here, or she was late in one of their dates and she's like sorry I made you wait, one time she notices she was talking too much and says sorry too and peter notices how she does this for everything he does for her and he says, you know, instead of saying sorry, you can say thank you and reader is like what do you mean? and peter is like, I love doing these things for you, you don't have to say sorry, you can say like thank you for waiting for me or thank you for listening to me and he's just so sweet and yeah

love you and your writing as always!

Love you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re waiting when Peter knocks, your bouncing knee rattling your coffee table while your roommate shoots you inscrutable looks out the side of her eye. You hop up at the sound, unlatching the door. 

“Hi.” You smile at him, grabbing a coat from the hook by the door. 

“Hey,” Peter says, mirroring your expression. He looks nice, you think. Well, Peter always looks nice, but tonight he looks all shined up and special. His hair is damp, evidence of comb marks in it, and his shirt looks like he might have actually ironed. You feel sort of honored. He holds up a heap of fabric. “Been missing this?” 

It takes you a second to identify it as your coat. Your favorite coat, which you spent most of the morning looking for. “Yes!” you gasp, reaching to take it from him. “I left it at your place the other day?” He nods, and you shake your head at yourself. “Sorry I stuck you with it, I could have sworn I wore it home.” 

“It’s no problem.” Peter shrugs. “It had warmed up by the time you left, so you probably weren’t thinking about it.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You shake your head again, putting the substitute coat back on the hook and shrugging this one on. “Anyway, sorry. Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah.” He steps back to let you out, leading you over to the stairs. “You look really nice,” he says, and you don’t know how he does it, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. Yours drop to your feet. 

“Thanks.” You smile down towards the steps. “So do you.” 

You think you can feel Peter’s grin burning into the side of your head. He changes the subject for your benefit. “You live on a pretty high floor, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh, breaths growing heavier even just descending. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. You could’ve waited downstairs or something.” 

“Hey, I don’t mind.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “You can’t help if your landlord didn’t spring for an elevator. How’d you find this place?” 

You huff a laugh. “Actually, it’s kind of a weird story.” 

“Ooh, okay.” There’s teasing in Peter’s tone, the kind you’ve come to recognize as his go-to flirting technique. “Now I’ve gotta hear it.” 

“Well, I responded to a post online about this girl looking for a pet sitter…” 

At some point, you work up the courage to look at him while you talk. Peter’s a good listener, nodding at all the right intervals, laughing at the funny parts, brown eyes warm and encouraging. You keep getting distracted by him, but he’ll pull you right back into the story with questions like “So wait, why would she move somewhere her cat wasn’t allowed?” and “It got that attached to you?”. By the time frigid air hits your face, you realize you’ve been talking for eight stories and then some. 

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. “I can’t shut up, can I?” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Peter tells you, just on this side of chiding. He grabs your hand from in front of your mouth, pulling it with his into his coat pocket and starting down the sidewalk at an amble. “I like hearing you.”

It takes everything in you not to wiggle your fingers in his. You hope you’re not blushing as badly as you feel like you are. “You haven’t gotten a word in since we left my place,” you tell him apologetically.  

“Like that’s such a long time.” He looks down at you, giving your hand a friendly squeeze. “But okay, fine, let’s talk dinner. What do you feel like?”

You shrug. “I’m good with anything.” 

“Perfect,” Peter says enthusiastically, “all my favorite foods are anything!” He grins at you sideways, worse when you roll your eyes. “Now tell me what you want to eat.” 

You blow out a breath, trying not to smile. “I don’t know.” 

“Sure you do,” he says lightly. “Come on. Greek, Mexican, Italian? Just throw it out there.” 

“Fine, maybe not Italian,” you admit, preoccupied with the way his thumb is running over your knuckles inside his coat pocket. “I had that last night. Um, do you like Irani food?” 

Peter makes a quiet humming sound. “Can’t say I’ve tried it. You know anywhere nearby?” 

“Yeah, there’s a place a couple blocks this way,” you say, then backtrack. “But we should get something you already know you like. What do you want to have?” 

“I want to have Irani food.” He grins down at you. “I’m always up for something new.” 

“No, come on.” You slow your pace, forcing him to match it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pick a place only I would like. We should go somewhere else.” 

“I really do want to try it,” Peter says, tone softening slightly. “It sounds good, and I wanna learn the things you like. Come on, sweetheart, let me do this.” He gives your arm a little tug, and reluctantly, you fall into step beside him again. 

“Sorry,” you murmur. 

Peter looks at you sideways. “You apologize a lot, you know that?”

You feel a bit of heat rise to your cheeks despite the chill. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”  

“You don’t have to,” he says conversationally. “I mean, I don’t mind doing this stuff for you. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” 

“I know.” 

“Do you?” 

You don’t, really. It feels like he should mind, like he should understand how indebted all these little things make you to him. “I just…want you to know that I know you’re inconveniencing yourself for me, if that makes sense.” You cringe at your awkward wording. “Just, that I’m not taking it for granted.” 

“None of it’s a real inconvenience,” he promises you, giving your hand a little squeeze. “You could always just say thank you.” 

You look up at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?” 

Peter shrugs. “I mean, I love doing things for you,” he says. “I don’t need any thanks, but instead of apologizing for, like, me bringing you your coat, you could just say thank you.” He looks down, giving you a small smile. His brown eyes are warm and gentle. “And then I’d say you’re welcome, and you could stop worrying about it so much.” 

“Oh,” you all but whisper. 

Peter’s patient, giving you the time you need to contemplate this while you walk, but after a minute he says, “Is this the place?” 

You look up to find you’re standing under the sign of your favorite restaurant. “Yeah,” you confirm, and he releases your hand to hold the door open for you. You shoot him a tiny smile. “Thank you.” 

Peter’s grin blows yours out of the water. “You’re welcome,” he replies warmly, following you through the door. His arm wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side as he leads you to the host stand. “Attagirl.” 

[schoenpepper]

Chivalry Should Die!

Intro: Or, how to kill chivalry in five steps, featuring Idia Shroud!

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread I got lazyyyy, mentions of hentai lmao, reader is not yuu, idia highkey being a loser

A/N: This is a request from an anon. Not sure if this is actually what they wanted, but if you're reading this I hope you like it. Kinda short idk I was really busy with that Jade songfic.

Masterlist

Opening the door

As the heir of a kingdom, you've long since been trained to be respectful, etiquette and decorum seared into your flesh and carved into your bones. Perhaps with such an upbringing, Royal Sword Academy would have been for you.

But the invitation is black.

Your first day in Night Raven College is nothing too interesting. You're sorted into Ignihyde (ha!), your housewarden is a floating tablet, and some magicless folk with a rabid cat crashed orientation, starting off the year with a literal bang! You're unphased, a polite smile on your lips as you gather your things and your wits and line up to head to the dorm. You go through the mirror and up the stone stairs that led to the building in its weird mishmash of ancient architecture and blue triangles and holograms.

You, being the very kind person you are, open the door for the tablet.

It stops in mid-air.

"What...? Did you just open the door for a tablet? Lolz! Wtf you're such a weird freshie lmao. Imagine being that person, idk couldn't be me ig."

You keep on smiling.

(But the urge to punt the tablet all the way back to the hall of mirrors is strong.)

Carrying items

"Oh, let me help you, senpai."

"Huh? No, I'm okay..."

You glance at the large box, clearly heavy and stuffed to the brim by whatever was inside it and your senior slash housewarden who was doing his best to lug it up the stairs as he panted. "Are you sure? You look like you're having trouble." You watch him carry it to the second step.

"Totally fine, yep, nothing weird here, nope, nuh uh, I don't need help."

Idia avoids your eyes. The tips of his hair are turning a faint pink, and the fact that Ortho wasn't the one doing the heavy lifting was really the very first giveaway that something was wrong.

You narrow your eyes and step back.

"If you say so, Idia senpai. But why don't you just use—" he accidentally drops the box back onto the ground, watching, horrified, as its contents spilled out, "—magic to...carry it..."

"No, Y/N, don't look!"

You pick up a thick book from the pile on the ground to help him gather it all. Manga, was it? Upon accidentally reading the title, you give him the most disgusted look you could ever muster.

Idia screams until Ortho comes by to help him put his hentai manga back into the box.

Always be on time

You and Idia had agreed; 4 p.m. Not too early, not too late to work on that essay you needed to pass by tomorrow. He's a good friend and upperclassman if nothing else, so he offered to help you with the topic, which was included in his wide range of expertise. The catch is that you had to do it in his room.

You knock on the door at exactly 4.

No answer.

You take out your phone and send him a quick message. When he doesn't immediately answer, you call Ortho instead.

"Hello, Y/N!"

"Hey Ortho, do you know where Idia is? He promised to help me with an essay and he's not in his room."

"Older brother and I are in the Shaftlands!"

You smile (instead of cracking your phone into pieces). "Really? And when did you leave?"

"We left this morning because there's a comic convention that brother wanted to go to."

"I see. Thank you, Ortho."

Help getting down from a carriage

You hop down the carriage and hold out a hand to Idia. He looks at your hand weirdly, hair pink as he murmurs something you couldn't quite understand (you just know it's something annoying though). He gingerly puts his hand on yours and carefully descends from the carriage.

And by carefully, you mean, of course, that he lets go of your hand halfway and trips on the stairs before faceplanting into the dirt.

You sigh and carry him in your arms.

"Eek! Is this a limited edition SSR CG?!"

"What?"

"I mean, where are you taking me?"

You look at him dead in the eye and press on his left ankle.

"Ouch! Oh...okay..."

Paying for a date

First date! You don't know how, but you managed to convince Idia to eat out in a fancy restaurant with you (if only because you know that he will never agree to anything like this ever again). The food is nice and the ambience is tolerable even though the two of you are in a public space (you chose a private room but to Idia it's still a public space apparently). At the end of the night, the waiter puts the bill on the table and leaves.

"I'll take the—" When your hand reaches for the check, Idia grasps onto your wrist.

"No."

"No?"

He shakes his head.

"I'll pay for it because...you asked me out so...it's only fair..."

"No, it's unbecoming of a royal to not even pay for their partner's food."

He is weirdly competitive about this.

Anyway, at the end of the night, the check accidentally rips in half (the waiter wonders why) and you successfully pay for the full meal.