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#like i almost broke my only rule
magnusbae · 5 months
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Oh I finally found her 🥺💖💖💖
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geddy-leesbian · 21 days
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you guys eanna see something cool
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gaiden winterserra
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hmm i have like, 500-600 taiwan dollars leftover in a tin from the last time i visited relatives... i wonder what would happen if i just handed it to my little cousins like. "yep. here is gift. have fun."
#i heard them trying to sound out 'eidelweiss' on the piano so i've also been thinking of giving them this little music box i bought#a while back that plays eidelweiss. put it in little box with money and letter that is like. 'hello. cousin cares about you.'#'but cousin is awkward and has bad hearing and speaking skills. anyway here's some money and a music box for you.'#i checked n it's like the equivalent of almost 20 usd so like. that's an appropriate gift for nine-year-olds i think#today at work i was cutting glow sticks in half for our craft and i was not wearing any gloves so i got minor chemical burns <3#like part of the skin on my thumb n pointer finger got bleached so i went around n showed alllll the kids#like. 'hey. check out my chemical burn. this is why we wouldn't let you guys cut open the glow sticks yourselves.'#'because it will do This to you if you touch them too long. this is why we had you wash your hands when you finished.'#n some of them were like 'just wash it off' n i was like. 'it is a chemical burn. it is on my skin.'#at least i Think it was a chemical burn but i mean it was very minor (makes sense bc it's just glow sticks) so the skin's flaked off by now#similar happens when i touch my hair bleach w/o gloves so i'm Pretty Sure it was chemical burns#we had a table of kids who were speaking cn to each other so at some point i pieced together they didn't seem to pay attn. bc low en skills#anyway i broke my own rule abt no phones at work to look up 'chemical burns' in cn for them bc although they know i speak Some cn#(by giving them minor instructions for the glow stick craft) i was like. 'chemical burns... how to say....'#apparently they are mostly from taiwan which is fun i love it when i Don't receive microaggressions for writing in traditional c':#today's my only camp shift for the week tho... one of my coworkers died last week so i told my boss i could pick up his camp shifts#if no one else had but apparently i'd go over hours this week... feelsbad man. it's summer + we're always understaffed#so there's gonna be a point when the front desk worker is gonna be covering the camps for a little bit which is. i feel bad ahaha#the worm speaks
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tchaikovskym · 10 months
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WE DID NOT GET THE FUNDING PROJECT FOR MY THESIS, a sad YEEEHAAWWWWWWW
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gabseyoo · 2 months
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PROOF — SAKUSA KIYOOMI
content: msby!kiyoomi, female reader, best friend!kiyoomi, pwp, cunnilingus, fingering, kinda best friends to lovers. word count: 2,7k.
note: this was supposed to be shameless smut but ended up being kind of romantic (?) just because a kiyoomi being in love with us is my sexual fantasy. also, i'm not satisfied with the ending, but i had no other ideas. maybe when i come up with something better ill change it, who knows :p
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“Kiyoomi, do you go down on girls?”
The question took Kiyoomi off guard. You guys had spent the last twenty minutes in almost complete silence, just hanging out in his living room and completely ignoring the random movie you had chosen because you both were scrolling through your phones, which is why the last thing he expected to hear out of the blue was such a question.
He turned to look at you, who were lying across the couch with your feet resting in his lap and still staring at your phone screen. Not knowing what to say, a ‘huh’ was the only thing he could think of. 
“Just answer.” You poked his thigh with your foot. “It’s not like we’re strangers.” 
That was true. You two were good friends, practically best friends, and therefore, you both had full confidence in each other. But, you had always kept a limit when it came to talking about both his sex life and yours, to the point where that part of your respective lives was a complete mystery to each other. 
And this is a secret— but he liked it that way. Because he was more than sure that he didn’t want to know what you did with other men at all. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn with jealousy. That’s the reason he didn’t bother to tell you about his own experiences with other women either, just in case there was a small chance that you might feel the same way he did. 
“None of your business.” He answered sharply. 
You rolled your eyes before getting up from your comfortable position to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, Kiyoomi, It’s just a question.”
“A question I won’t answer.”
“Why not?” You crossed your arms, looking at him defiantly. 
Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes at your posture, why did you suddenly want to know that? Moreover, why did you insist on wanting to know? Did someone say something to you? Is there a rumor about him? Or maybe you had suddenly awakened an interest in him? He was overthinking, but still he hoped more than anything that it was the latter option rather than the others. 
“Just because.” He said, and before you could protest, he continued: “And, why are you asking anyway?” 
A smirk appeared on your face, “If you answer my question, I’ll answer yours. Deal?”
“Never mind.”
“You’ll never know why I asked, then.” You said, casually looking at your nails. “Unless we make a deal.”
He shouldn’t accept so easily, he knew, but now he was genuinely curious why you broke an unspoken rule between you two to ask him if he did orals, of all things. 
So, he agreed. “Deal.”
Your smile of victory almost made him smile too, but he did his best to remain serious. “Okay. Tell me.”
He sighed before answering honestly. “I do.”
Your eyes widened and an incredulous laugh escaped your lips before you said, “Really?” The surprise in your voice made him frown, why was that surprising? Should he be offended?
“Yeah.”
“Are you serious? You go down on girls?” You couldn't even hide the disbelief in your voice. “You?”
“I already said yes. Now, tell me. Why are you asking?”
Without further ado, you grabbed your phone that had been forgotten in your lap to unlock it, and a second later you were showing him what appeared to be your TikTok feed.
“A fan made a TikTok with the title: Ranking how good MSBY players are at giving head and you were raked as a zero just because he’d rather die than put his mouth there.”
What the fuck?!
“Let me see that.”
In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi snatched the phone from you to watch the video with his own eyes, regretting it as soon as it started thanks to the embarrassing selection of music and photos chosen from the team members. He scoffed, a random person on the internet had felt entitled to make this kind of ranking just based on appearances and assumptions. It’s not like they could have any real evidence at the end of the day. But it seems that for many people a video of this kind told the absolute truth, because it had thousands of likes and thousands of comments, and—to his misfortune—he couldn’t help but read them.
Now he wished he had never done it. 
In addition to most of the comments agreeing and mocking Kiyoomi’s ranking, saying that at least his face makes up for it and that maybe he gives head as long as he has his face mask on—that one was actually funny, but he wouldn’t say that out loud—, the other vast majority agreed that Atsumu and Bokuto were the best. 
But the question here is, did you think the same?
“You actually believe this crap?” He asked, actually sounding more hurt than he planned. 
“Kiyoomi, it’s just a TikTok. Of course, I’ll believe it.” You were obviously trying to make a joke, but still, the expression on his face showed pure disbelief. “I’m joking, jeez.”
“I know it’s a just TikTok, but I still want to know.” He sounded serious. 
You sighed and rolled your eyes, perhaps thinking he was exaggerating, maybe he was, but he wasn’t offended by the fact that someone made that video, there were probably hundreds just like it. It was the fact that you, of all people, seemed to agree with an assumption about him and his very private intimate life. 
“Kiyoomi, I just thought it was funny. That’s why I asked.”
“But you didn’t believe me when I told you I did.”
“I did believe you.” He narrowed his eyes, showing that he obviously didn’t buy your words. “I’m not lying. I believed you, but— I was just… shocked.”
“Why?”
“It’s just that…never mind.”
“Tell me.” 
You looked him in the eye for a few seconds before sighing heavily.
“You’re… a little too special when it comes to cleanness and— where you put your mouth, you know?” You weren’t even looking him in the face, obviously nervous about the direction the conversation was taking. “I’m not judging you, we should all be careful where we put it. And, I just thought that… yeah” You waved your hand as you finished, trying to play it down. 
Kiyoomi couldn’t blame you or others for thinking that, after all, that was the kind of reputation he built for himself. But, even when he didn’t care what others thought about him, he always cared what you thought; for that reason alone, he wasn’t going to let you walk away with the wrong idea about him. 
“Yes, we should. But now you know that I actually go down.” He said, and, simply because he had a good feeling, he added: “And I’m pretty good at it, I can assure you.”
You scoffed. “Are you?”
“I am.” Confidence exuded in his voice, perhaps that was exactly why the next words came out of his mouth: “You want proof?”
What happened next was a delight to his eyes. 
You got fucking nervous, of course he noticed, you were his best friend after all. You widened your eyes, opened your mouth a couple of times in an attempt to say something but nothing came out. But what was a poem for him, was to see how you moved your hips slightly, in a movement that could have gone unnoticed if he hadn't paid all his attention to you. 
You cleared your throat as you looked away from his gaze. “I have no desire to ask your previous flings how good you are down there or watch any pornographic videos of you, so no, thanks.” You folded your arms as you sat up straight, suddenly finding the movie interesting. 
The room fell into silence, accompanied by a heavy tension that you two were obviously aware of. 
This situation was actually kind of funny. Thanks to a fucking TikTok, he now had an opportunity in front of him that he had been waiting for a long time. An opportunity he was going to take. 
“I wasn’t referring to that kind of proof.”
Three minutes later, you were lying on the couch with your head resting on a pillow, your pants thrown aside on the floor and Kiyoomi between your legs, spreading kisses across your belly. 
“This is weird.” You said, maybe in an attempt to break the intimate silence that had formed where only your breaths and his kisses could be heard. 
“It is.” He agreed before lowering his lips to your inner thighs, where he surprised you with a light bite that made you gasp. “We can stop if you want.”
You were quick to reply with a no and he smirked against your skin. Of course you didn’t want to stop, neither did he. Both of you by this point were already immersed in lust, even though it had only been a few minutes of foreplay.
When he was desperately taking off your pants minutes ago, Kiyoomi debated whether to just go for it or take it slow. 
But the moment he saw the longing in your eyes, how pretty you looked underneath him, he knew he would take his time. He didn’t just want to prove something to you; he actually wanted to taste you, to make you squirm, to make you enjoy this as much as he would. 
Gently caressing your thighs with both hands, he moved down until his mouth made contact with your pelvis, where he left another trail of kisses until he reached right where your clit was. Still above the fabric of your panties, he kissed you there, which was enough to elicit a moan of frustration from you.
“Please, just do it.” 
He kissed the same spot again before smirking. “Let me just go get my facemask, can’t do this without it.” 
His sudden joke made you burst into laughter which elicited a chuckle from him. “Don’t kill the mood.” You said as you gave a small pat to his hand that squeezed your thigh. 
He smiled and brought both of his hands to the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly. “At this point that’s impossible.”
“I know.” You muttered as you lifted your hips to let him remove the garment easily. 
As quickly as the garment hit the floor, Kiyoomi’s eyes focused on the middle of your legs, you may not have noticed, but the mere sight of your pussy glistening with your arousal made him twice as hard as he already was. 
“Don’t stare.” You said, trying to close your legs as much as you could since Kiyoomi was in the way.
No, no, no. There was no way for you to hide from him now, or ever. 
“Why not? You’re so fucking hot in all places.” 
Hearing his words, in an act of fluster, you brought both of your hands to cover your face, perhaps trying to hide how his praise made you feel. “You think so?”
The question came out almost in a whisper, and in response, he took both of your hands, interlaced your fingers and placed them on the sides of your head with the purpose of looking you in the eyes. 
“There’s no day when I don’t think that you’re hot,” He confessed, his voice deep and serious with the purpose of making you understand that he was not playing games. “Now that I just told you how crazy I’m for you, open your legs and let me make you feel good.”
You nodded, and staring at him with desire in your eyes, you opened your legs wide open again until that part of your body that he wanted to devour more than anything else was once again fully at his mercy.
Kiyoomi let go your hands and he lowered his body until his stomach made contact with the soft cushion of the couch. Now in that position, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, squeezing the flesh eagerly before dipping his head into the middle of your legs. 
“God.” You sighed, jerking your hips upward in surprise. 
He played slowly with his tongue, running it up and down before concentrating on sucking your clit. 
He was hard as fuck. Maybe more than he had ever been in his life. He even felt his tip leaking and was almost certain that if he started grinding his hips against the cushion, he could come at any moment. But he would save that for later. Right now, he was getting drunk on your taste and the sound of your moans. 
And fuck… those moans were heaven itself. 
He lowered his mouth, right at your entrance, where he began to lick gathering more of your juices before he deepened his mouth against your clit, sucking harder, quickly realizing that you liked it by the movement of your hips and the loud whimper that came out of your mouth. 
Kiyoomi was getting excited, even more so when he felt your hands stroking his head before pulling his curls, holding him closer to you, as if you were afraid he would break away, taking with him the pleasure you were feeling, but Kiyoomi wasn’t willing to do that, right now what he wanted most was you coming as hard as you could in his mouth. 
Hungry to increase your pleasure, he didn’t think twice when he let go of one of your thighs to stick a finger inside you, thrusting it in and out a few times before slipping another one in and curving his fingers to reach that sensitive spot inside you. 
“There, oh god, there.”
He would give you whatever you wanted, so he focused there. Feeling lovesick at this point. Loving the way you sounded. Loving the way you pulled his hair. Loving  the way your tight pussy squeezed his fingers. 
He moved his tongue back down to your entrance at the same time he pulled his fingers out, but only to start circling them over your clit. This is where you put a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, but Kiyoomi didn’t want that, he wanted to hear you come undone for him, no matter if it woke up the neighbors. So with his free hand he took you by the wrist at the same time that he separated his mouth from your sex.
“Don’t hold back those sounds, I want to hear you scream for me. Okay?”
You nodded. Too shocked to formulate words. 
“Good girl.” He praised before placing a short kiss on your wrist, releasing it a second later to immediately return to seal his mouth with your wet pussy. 
This time he put both hands behind your knees to spread your legs wider and pushed them against your chest, giving himself more room to continue devouring you, proud that you were no longer shy to scream with pleasure when he flicked his tongue, sucked and bit your pretty pussy. 
“I’m close. Fuck! Don’t stop, please.”
Kiyoomi wouldn’t stop, he was sure of that.
It was a matter of seconds when started to came in your best friend’s mouth. 
Kiyoomi kept licking, drinking up all your release until your legs began to shake from overstimulation. 
He gave a peck to your clit before gently letting go of your legs, settling them slowly on the cushion. He caressed your thighs as he left kiss after kiss on your belly, helping you relax as you tried to control your breathing after such an intense experience. 
You were lying there staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps processing everything that just happened, but Kiyoomi wouldn’t give you time for regrets, not now, not ever. He moved on top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and looked down at you, connecting your gazes before asking with a cocky smile on his face, “And? How was it?”
You let out a chuckle and rolled your eyes playfully before answering, “I think TikTok and I owe you an apology.” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re definitely not a zero.”
“I’ll be happy with yours alone.” He said before lowering his face further until your noses brushed, “Your opinion is the only one I care about afterall.” He added before finally kissing you.
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Truly, one of the greatest love language is someone agreeing to eat something atrocious for your benefit.
My first experience with this was in college. My friend Charlie invited me to a jazz club. One would think he’d learned his lesson. I thought nothing of this and agreed to a fun night with a guy friend. We arrived and I saw nothing romantic in the outing.
The menu at the club was very traditional date food- steak, oysters, romancey food. But still, I didn’t catch on. This food didn’t sound like what I wanted. In fact, what I wanted was a hummus plate. Charlie took this turn of events with a slight wince but ordered one for us.
The hummus plate arrived. Sitting politely on the corner of the garlic bomb was a spicy pepper. Laughing, I teasingly dared Charlie to eat it. You see, this kind of rough humor was common among buddies. I thought we were in Buddy Rules. But Charlie was operating under Date Rules; eating the pepper would be a romantic test of his bravery.
He bit the pepper.
His skin was almost as pale as mine and he went bright red instantly, tears stood in his eyes as sweat broke out across his whole body in protest. He barely managed to swallow as he began coughing, his body reflexively trying to spew forth the poison in his mouth.
I was doubled over with laughter and didn’t feel bad until a few days later when Brendan informed me it had been a date. I scoffed initially and only slowly realized Charlie had been intending it as a date. I repented the pepper and promptly dated Brendan in self defense.
Charlies act of romantic heroism went unappreciated but the spirit was there.
Many years later when I’d given up on boys I was dating my beloved wife. Together we took a trip to Taiwan. One of the wonderful things about new places is the food. I still dream about the food in Taiwan. Even the humblest train station cream puff was several orders of magnitude better than any I’ve ever had in the states.
But one place we went was like. Italian food as interpreted by Taiwanese cooks. Some of the combos were as bizarre to me as many Italians probably feel American Italian food is. Specifics escape me, but it felt like I was dreaming some of the menu at the time. At the end we decided to get a chocolate fondue, because why not. We were on vacation.
The liquid chocolate was served with all the things one would normally expect, strawberries, sweets, the usual chocolate accompaniments. And then we saw the tomatoes. Tomatoes and chocolate. We all stared at the tomatoes in horrified fascination.
Now, I hate tomatoes. I can stand a tomato sauce but raw tomatoes and I have nothing to talk about. So I knew that if I tried it I’d find it as repugnant as I’ve always found tomatoes. But I was haunted by the idea that someone who actually liked tomatoes would like tomatoes in chocolate.
My beloved loves tomatoes. And chocolate. I turned the biggest puppy dog eyes on them and begged to know if the combination was actually somehow delicious. My wife insisted that it would be heinous. Still, they speared a tomato sacrifice and coated it in chocolate, for me. For me, they ate it.
It was so wretched that their face collapsed into instant regret. But they didn’t spit it out. They knew I got sick if people spit out half chewed food. So they soldiered on and swallowed the cursed chocolate fruit.
Their devotion utterly delighted me, and even years later I adore that they suffered that tomato to reassure me that indeed, it was bad.
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Aegon has been in love with reader for years but she got betrothed to Aemond. She finds Aegon drunk at her door and she takes him in. He tells her he loves her and make smut happen please
I've been on a roll with these request this week! Only three days until the start of Season 2 *screaming*
Question: Should I add Cregan Stark to my character list? If yes, please send requests for him <3
Warnings: 18+, smut, drunk!Aegon, unprotected p + v, cheating (on Aemond)
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When the news dropped, Aegon was devastated. He had always known his feelings for you ran deep, but hearing that you were to be betrothed to his own brother made him regret not asking for your hand sooner. The thought of losing you to Aemond gnawed at his heart.
In a fit of fury, Aegon stormed into Aemond's chambers, his eyes blazing with anger. ‘’You knew of my feelings for her, how can you do this to me?’’ he spat, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and desperation. 
Aemond looked up from his book, his expression calm and composed. ‘’Father wanted to unite our families. I’m only doing my duty,’’ he replied, his tone measured and devoid of emotion.
Aegon’s frustration boiled over. He slammed his fist on the table, making the goblets and plates clatter. ‘’Fuck duty!’’ he shouted. His voice broke as he continued, ‘’I just…I just want her.’’
Aemond sighed, placing his book aside. ‘’I was asked to marry her, not you. You already have the throne.’’
The throne was given to him because he was the first son. Aegon never asked for it, never cared for ruling or showed interest in politics. He would rather spend his life with you and Sunfyre than sit on the Iron Throne. 
‘’I would exchange my birthright for her in a heartbeat,’’ he confessed, his voice unwavering.  
Later at dinner, Aegon didn’t come down to eat. He couldn't beat the idea of seeing you sitting beside Aemond during a meal. So, he stayed in his chamber, drowning himself with wine. His goblet wasn’t even empty that he would fill it up again. 
He drank until the sun went down and his pitcher was almost empty, and fell asleep on his couch with his goblet in hand. It wasn’t surprising considering how much he had drunk. 
When Aegon woke a few hours later, the castle was sleeping under the cover of darkness. He stood and found himself stumbling through the corridors. His feet carried him to your door in the guest wing, having been many many times. You always took the same chamber when you visited King’s Landing. Aegon raised his fist to knock, but before he could, the door creaked open.
You expected to find a servant with your tea, but instead found your uncle Aegon. A frown of surprise and concern creased between your eyebrows. ‘’Aegon? What are you doing here?’’
He swayed slightly, leaning heavily against the doorframe with his undershirt untucked from his breeches. His eyes were red, his expression a mixture of anger and sorrow. ‘’You can’t marry him. Please, don’t marry him,’’ he mumbled, his words slurred from the wine.
You should have walked him back to his chamber or alert the Queen of her son’s state, but instead you stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. 
Aegon stumbled through the doorway, and you came to his side, helping him sit onto the bed bench. He leaned forwards as you let go of him, resting his forearms on his thighs and his spinning head in his hands. 
You watched him with a heavy heart, guilt knotting your stomach. ‘’I’m sorry for the betrothal. I wanted to tell you myself, but our parents sent the ravens before I could.’’ 
‘’Don’t marry Aemond.’’ Aegon grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him. ‘’Don’t do this to me.’’ He looked up at you, his eyes pleading. 
You stayed silent, looking down at him. There were a hundred reasons you should put a stop to this right now. Aegon was drunk. He wasn’t in his right mind. And yet, seeing him like this, vulnerability written all over him, made your heart ache for him. 
‘’You’re drunk. This wasn’t a good idea. Let’s get you back to your chamber.’’ You reached for his arm to help him up, but grabbed your wrist. ‘’Aegon…’’ you sighed.
He pulled you closer to him, but you remained standing. Aegon’s voice was barely a whisper, his words more a plea than a demand. ‘’It’s me you should marry, not my brother.’’ 
You pulled on your wrist, but his grip only tightened. ‘’Aegon, let go. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.’’ 
He shook his head, his eyes fixated on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. ‘’I know exactly what I’m saying. I…I love you. I always have. And I can’t bear the thought of you marrying him.’’ 
Your heart was racing in your chest. 
Despite the feud between your mothers, you and Aegon had always been close. He was there when you claimed your dragon, took the blame when you got caught stealing lemon cakes in the kitchen, and always invited you to dance at gatherings, even though he hated dancing. He even exchanged letters with you when you moved to Dragonstone, secretly writing back despite his terrible handwriting and his mother's interdiction. You were his favorite person, the only one he felt truly cared for him.
And now, he was sitting in your chamber, confessing his feelings to you out of pain and desperation.
You wanted to scream. 
At yourself for not recognizing his underlying feelings. At him for not saying those words sooner. At your mother and grandsire for arranging a betrothal with Aemond. He was closer to you in age, mayhaps it was the reason for their decision? And most of all, at the cruel twist of fate that had kept you blind to what was right in front of you.
You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Thoughts swirled chaotically in your mind, overwhelming you. You needed time to think, time to process everything. 
But time wasn’t in your hands, it was ticking and passing fast, so you crashed your lips on Aegon’s. He brought you down to his lap, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed across your hips and thighs and everything he could get his hands on in a desperate attempt to bring you closer. You could taste the wine on his lips, the bitter alcohol still lingering in his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair as a moan left his throat, igniting the fire between two dragons.
Impatient, Aegon pulled at the laces of your nightgown while you discarded him of his undershirt and threw it on the floor. Your nightgown found the same fate, goosebumps rising across your skin from the cool air or the room. 
His hands skimmed along your sides, coming to rest on your hips as he rocked against you, his body betraying his need. The rough fabric of his breeches brushed against your bare cunt, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 
Your lips moved from his lips to his jaw, trailing a path of kisses along his jawline and down to his neck. His breath caught in his throat as your lips and teeth found the sensitive spot between his collarbone and throat. Aegon let out a soft moan, his hands gripping your thighs tighter. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving small imprints that would surely turn into bruises come morning.
His hands continued to roam, exploring every inch of your body that he could reach. He moved his lips down to your chest, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your breasts. You arched your back in response, the feeling of his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched.
What you were doing was wrong and breaking many rules, but you couldn’t stop. It felt too good. 
Aegon pushed you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours as he found your lips again. His hands fumbled with the ties of his breeches, desperately trying to undo them while keeping the kiss going. A soft groan escaped him as he managed to push them down, freeing himself from the constricting material. 
The feeling of his bare skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine. His body was hot and demanding as he pressed himself closer to you. A gasp left your lips when you felt the head of his cock against your folds, surprised by how warm it felt. 
You gripped his shoulder as Aegon pushed himself inside, your walls closing around him in a snug grip. Aegon’s breath hitched from how tight you felt, his eyes closing briefly as he sank deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as your body adjusted to him. 
When he started to move, you felt like he was splitting you in half…but in a good way. You clawed at his back, soft little sighs spilling from your lips as Aegon thrusted into you. 
Unfortunately, the pleasure didn’t last long. You were so wet and squeezing him too good that after only a few thrusts, Aegon spilled inside you. 
In his defense, he was drunk and not entirely in control of his cock. 
The sunlight coming through the large window woke you up. You turned away from the window and buried your face into your pillow, trying to fall back asleep, but your arm came into contact with something — someone. 
You opened your eyes, the late events of the night surfacing, and saw Aegon lying beside you. He was still fast asleep, his white hair tousled and messy. His face was relaxed, a stark contrast from his drunkenness. For a moment, you just watched him. He looked so peaceful and calm when he slept.
The light streamed over his face, illuminating the sharp planes and angles of his features. You reached out, gently brushing away a strand of hair from his forehead. 
He stirred at your touch, but didn’t open his eyes. ‘’What is it, Mother?’’ 
You chuckled softly, watching as Aegon stirred in his sleep. 
He mumbled again, shifting under the covers. His eyes still closed, he reached out blindly and brushed his fingers against your waist. The contact startled him, not expecting to find another body in his bed, and he opened his eyes. 
A mixture of embarrassment and confusion flickered across his face, remembering his drunk stumble into your chamber. 
‘’I’m sorry for last night,’’ Aegon apologized, his voice strained and hoarse because of how dry his mouth felt. ‘’I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?’’ 
You decided against mentioning his short sexual performance. ‘’More than usual? No.’’ 
He laughed, then groaned as his head pounded. 
‘’Aegon?’’ you said quietly. He hummed. ‘’Why didn’t you say you have feelings for me?’’ 
‘’Because I enjoy self-sabotaging my life.’’ 
You swatted his arm. 
‘’I need to speak to my mother,’’ you declared after a moment of silence. 
The hour was early, but she should be awake. 
You climbed out of bed, your naked body exposed in the bright light of day as you moved around your chamber. There was an ache between your legs, reminiscent of Aegon’s passage inside your intimate part. 
‘’I do not wish to go through the same suffering she endured in her first marriage.’’ You grabbed a dress from the wardrobe and dressed yourself. It was more difficult without the help of a handmaid. ‘’And I know exactly how to convince her to call off the betrothal. I broke my vows to Aemond, I let you take my maidenhood. They will have no choice but to let us wed.’’
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seasons-of-death · 24 days
Text
older!rafe x ditzy!reader who works for him
warning: nsfw MDNI! this was based on this request!! i hope you like it <3
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you had driven rafe crazy ever since you started working at the country club he owned; the way you smelled of flowers and vanilla, how your little sundresses and miniskirts clung to your curves, and the smile on your face that was so bright it would put the damn sun to shame.
when he first saw you, you looked so out of balance, your tray full of mugs and plates, so filled to the brim that he was sure you would drop it any moment. and like any gentleman, he decided to help you. you'd thanked him profusely, and when he simply smirked at you, he could see the flush creeping up to your pretty cheeks.
ever since then, he was a man possessed.
but he always had a rule to never mess with someone who works for him. he knows to keep his personal life and professional life separate. but it was so hard, when he'd see you bend over, your cleavage unknowingly almost pushing out of the little top you had worn that day. usually, people had to wear a uniform, but the first day you hadn't worn it, and rafe had told your supervisor to never make you wear one. he couldn't count all the times that he had jerked off to the mental image of you lifting up one of your pretty floral dresses and letting him fuck you in the country club bathroom. he was a grown ass man, and you had him acting like a teenager.
one day, rafe called you into his office. you were confused, and a little frightened, worrying that maybe you'd done something wrong. sure, your supervisor said he didn't mind when you broke a few (15) cups the other week, but what if rafe disagreed with him? i mean, he was your boss's boss.
even though the door to his office was open, you knocked on it gently, and the man turned around to face you with a smile on his face. "come in. close the door."
suddenly, your throat felt dry as you did as the man told you to; he had a commanding presence, a person would probably have to be crazy to not do what he asked them to. "why'd you want to see me?" you asked, your voice shaky and squeaky as he took a few steps closer to you.
"i just wanted to say," rafe smiled as he stopped right in front of you, only inches between your chests, the man biting down on his lower lip in between sentences, "that you're one of the best employees we have."
huh. that was the last thing you expected.
your eyes widened, and your words basically stumbled out of your mouth, almost as clumsy as you had been on your first day. "thank... you?"
rafe chuckled, bringing one of his hands to your chin and lifting it up so you'd look him in the eye, "what, you don't believe me?" he grinned, and even though his hand dropped away from your chin, it felt like the spot he had touched was on fire.
"well, i mean... to be fair, i think i kind of suck... i mean, i broke a few dishes, and i accidentally gave the wrong order to three different people today and apparently someone's lobster was-"
your rambling was interrupted by the blonde man's laughter, causing you to look up at him with wide eyes, while he simply looked at you with affection, "you're adorable." he said, causing your cheeks to flush slightly as he pressed his hand on your cheek, clearly enjoying your little reactions. "god, i can't believe you blush from just that. it makes me all the more curious."
"curious? about what?"
"about..." one of his hands trailed up and down your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin there as shivers ran down your spine, his eyes looking down at you wolfishly as he leaned closer, his volume dropping to almost a whisper. "how pretty you'd look if you were riding me on my office chair. or the kind of noises you'd make when you come. do you whine? do you whimper? do you moan? you know, it drives me insane."
your face heated up even more, his thumb now at the edge of your lips, and you could feel your cotton panties starting to stick to your folds as you looked up at him, not realizing that the doe-eyed look on your face was causing his pants to feel tighter. the situation was just like out of the dreams you'd had of rafe, the ones you tried so hard to forget, the ones that were so inappropriate to have of your boss, or, boss's boss.
"oh, uh... thank– thank you." you say with a small smile, the man letting out a chuckle, while your cheeks were feeling like they would light on fire any moment now.
"keep up the good work, sweetheart." he said, his hands dropping away from you, taking step back. and as you walked out of his office with your heartbeat in your ears, you pinched the inside of your elbow just to make sure that hadn't been a dream.
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sweetnans · 4 months
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Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K.
Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader
Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.
summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.
a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)
Pt.2 Pt.3 ♡
m.list
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Blame it on the ovulation process. You couldn't believe that you ended up making out (drunkly) and fucking the one and only Bakugo Katsuki.
Bakugo was a total pain in the ass back in UA high school, and after the big battle, when the doctor told him to cooperate after his heart injury and surgery, he changed for better. Well... better is a word to describe it.
He had the looks, he had the attitude, and now, in College UA, he found a way to get the chicks at his feet. Who knew he would be good at flirting and getting the female attention, putting aside his obnoxious and loud behavior?
In the other part, you knew better, but damn, now you felt bad, betrayed by your own hormones, doing the walk of shame to your room.
Bakugo Katsuki was a fucking legend in college, the major fuckboy, hoping from chick to chick and jeez that broke all your standards about boys, how did you even end up in his room?
Oh, that was a good question that you could answer. Fucking cosmopolitans made by Denki and Jirou, they wrecked all your senses and because the planets were aligned you ended ip tearing up all his clothes along with him grabbing every part of your body while eating your mouth. He was a good kisser though.
You slid your keys on the lock of your room door. Jirou was there in her bed, laying with Denki who was sound asleep.
"Girl," she sat in seconds at the sight of you, patting Denki's arm to wake him up.
"Don't," you told her, completely defeated. "I just wanna cry"
You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face.
For you, giving Bakugo your body and an intimate moment wasn't something to be happy for. He wasn't in your to-do list compared to other girls that you knew were dying for a peak of him.
You believed in love, in the vulnerability that it brought alongside the happiness and the sappiness. You wanted to be loved and not be used. For you, Bakugo wasn't a trophy, he was a mistake.
"Just let it go." Jirou hugged you tightly. "Did he do something to you?"
"No, no," you cried in her shoulder, feeling her arms around your body and Denki cli ging in your back. "He was a complete gentleman,"
You hated yourself for reacting like that. The man gave you all of his stamina pounding himself into you, and he was almost romantic about it. You were a fool, not like you were catching feeling upon the act, not at all. You just didn't want to be one more of his long ass list.
You had a single rule. Don't sleep with people you don't have feelings for. You knew that for some people, it was easy not to get attached but for you, even if you didn't feel anything like sentimental after the act you ended up craving the affection and the tenderness that came up with a relationship.
You've slept with boyfriends in the past and you did good with friends with benefits because at least there was a friendship to cling on, in this case, you only knew Bakugo by name and because Denki, your bestfriend's and roommate's boyfriend hangout occasionally with his group.
"I'll avoid him," you told your friends. "And everything's going to be fine"
You dried your tears and excused yourself, gathering your belongings to go and take a shower. You could still feel his scent in your skin.
Walking to the common woman bathroom, you tried to block the memories in your mind, and it worked until you opened the door.
"Hey," the pink girl greeted while putting on make-up in front of the mirror. "Oh my god, I know you, you are the girl from the party last night, right?"
Mina Ashido, one of Bakugo closest friend.
"Yeah," you tried to smile, but you failed. God wasn't on your side today.
"Are you okay?" She asked worried.
What could have given you away? Oh, your swollen and red eyes for sure.
"Yeah, I'm just hungover." You tried to laugh her worry away, and when Jirou asked about the encounter, you told her that you wanted to believe that it worked. But you never fooled anyone.
"Me too" she said giggling.
Thank god she didn't push it.
"I'm going to shower, so see you later...?" You said, and it sounded like a plan, but you just wanted to be nice with her.
"Oh, before you go, do you have any tampons? My period just came early this month. I think it's a reaction after drinking a huge amount last night"
Hormones, you knew about that.
Shit, period? Did he wear any condoms? I mean, you had your anti-babies method and all, but what about STD?
"Hello? Calling from earth, " Mina waved his hand in front of your face and you regained consciousness.
"Shit, yeah, sorry, here." You led her your last tampon from your bag.
"Thank you so much," Mina said, grabbing all her things into her purse. "I will see you around"
That encounter only made things worse. Albeit you wanted to avoid the bastard you needed to find him to have the most embarrassing talk of all.
You knew Bakugo's sexual life like the palm of your hand. The rumors on campus spread like the Black Death in medieval Europe. You prayed that your name wouldn't appear on those rumors.
It was easy finding him among his friends, the red-headed enormous cinnamon roll, the tall one with the tape quirk, and, of course, Mina.
You approached slowly and tensed. The first one on seeing you was Mina, who was happy to see you again after you gave her your last tampon. She waved his hand in your direction, and you smiled at her, trying to dissipate your nerves.
The time has come.
"Hey, uhm, I need to talk to you." You twisted your hands nervously after patting his shoulder to gain his attention. He turned around, and when caught that it was you in front of him, he just glared at you from above, the sun at his back making you squint your eyes a little. "In private," you said to complete your previous sentence.
He wasn't even giving you the time of the day before he was almost laughing at your face.
"Sorry, princess, I don't do rebounds." he solidly huffed at you with a side smile and all.
Mina was the first one to scold him while his friends just whined at his behavior.
That damn motherfucker son of a bitch bastard.
Your face passed from being the normal shade of your foundation and skin to a different shade of red. How could he be such a cunt about it?
But you had your mouth, too.
"Oh no, don't worry, I haven't seen a dick as small as yours, and you think I want to repeat that shit show? Oh, please. I just wanted to check if you have any STD I have to be aware of"
You lied about his dick at least. The only truth was that you didn't want to repeat the act.
The boys that were hanging out with him turned around to hide the giggling mess they were, while Bakugo only grunted in response, clenching his fist beside his stiff body.
"Why? Is there a problem down there? Is it itching or falling off?" He squinted his eyes at you, trying vehemently to put you down with his words. You denied moving your head like you didn't care at all about his attitude. "I don't have any STD. You should have seen it yourself when you were sucking me off"
Well, that was something a few people around heard. Scratch the "Don't be part of the rumor" from the list.
"Yeah, I should've had, but I forgot to bring my magnifying glass with me, that's completely on me, not your fault that you weren't blessed with something as big as your fucking ego"
The hushed screams of his friends were the beat you needed to turn around and leave him hanging. He had a piercing mouth, and you were almost trembling from the exchange of words, and yet, you didn't have the answer that you expected. Was he clean or not? Bakugo was a trustworthy man? Jeez, what a fucker.
Again, for the second time of the day you made your own walk of shame to your room.
"And, what did he say?" Jirou was waiting for you while she gathered all her belongings (and Denki's) to her side of the room.
"He said he doesn't have STD but I don't know if I should trust him...the scene was pretty intense." You sat in your bed, and she looked at you incredulously.
"Intense, how?" She quirked a brow, and you just shrugged before telling her everything.
"You did what!?" Denki stomped through the door. He was obviously listening behind the door like an old woman.
You hid your face in between your hands, internally screaming exhausted because of your poor decisions. Why did you leave the party with him of all people?
"He just nipped under my skin, and I had to defend myself, that's all," you tried to excuse yourself.
"You know that encounter is going to be the gossip of the week, right?" Jirou tapped your head gaining your attention. "You can't run of it"
"Jeez, I know"
All the situation was escalating from bad to worse real quick.
"Okay, fine, let's chill for a sec," Denki interrupted. "I'll find out about Kacchan medical records and I'll let you know, don't worry about it"
That's a good friend.
"Yeah, Denki can take care of that while you..."
"While I what?" You took your face off your hands.
"You know the rumor is going to spread before monday, right? You have to talk to Aizawa before he knows all of it in the worst way"
Shit. You had completely forgotten about the man who was kind enough to take you under his wing and be your guardian.
This was about to get good.
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Let me know if you like it
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agi-ppangx · 24 days
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lucky (bang chan x gn!reader)
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fluff, husband!chan, tried to make it as domestic as possible; 0,5k words
author's note: a little fic requested by my lovely chan nonnie<3 hopefully you'll like it, please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽
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“baby, what are you doing?” chan asked as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom. water from his wet hair dripped straight onto his naked torso as he tried to dry them off with a little towel. you hummed quietly, not turning around. “i thought we were supposed to watch a movie?”
“we are, i’m almost done with the dishes,” you said with a small smile as you felt chan’s arms wrap around your body. he swayed you from side to side, placing his chin on your shoulder. 
“can’t you do that tomorrow?” he pouted.
you shook your head at his words. “the last thing i want is to wake up on a sunday morning to the sink full of dirty dishes,” you chuckled, putting the freshly washed plates on the drying rack. 
chan and you didn’t have that much time in the week to spend together, both of you were too busy with work and errands to even think about a chill evening with each other. so as the weekend rolled up you always tried to do something fun together, be it a fancy dinner or a movie date at home. it was your unspoken rule to make sure to just have fun with each other and not care about everyday worries. 
that’s why chan was so confused to see you standing right next to the sink in his shirt and doing the chores. 
“i would do it for you tomorrow, y’know?” 
“yeah?” you raised your eyebrow, not entirely believing him. he let out a small mhm, watching as you rinse the last plate from the sink. “good thing that neither of us will have to do it tomorrow. i’m done,” you announced with a small smile as you wiped your damp hands. you turned around to face chan and he immediately placed his hands on your hips, a little habit he developed throughout the years. he looked you in the eyes with a lovestruck expression, grinning widely. you tilted your head to the side, a wordless question hanging in the air between us. 
“you’re so pretty,” he said softly. you scoffed at his words, but said nothing, knowing that it was pointless to argue with him. “can i take you on a date?” he added, leaning over so that your foreheads were almost touching. 
you giggled, raising your hand and pointing to your ring finger. “sorry, i’m taken.”
“damn, your husband must be lucky to have you,” he whispered with a sly grin, slowly closing the distance between you two. 
“very,” you breathed out and connected your lips in a slow yet passionate kiss. you let chan set the pace and guide you as you wrapped your arms around his body, feeling like the whole world around you disappeared. it was only you and him in your little bubble of love and mutual adoration. 
as the time passed you finally broke the kiss, panting slightly, and smiled at your husband. “hey, you wanna order some food? i didn’t feel like cooking today.”
he laughed at that, his husky voice echoed in the dimly lit apartment and filled you with familiar warmth. “of course, baby. now c’mon, let’s watch that movie, hm?”
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goldsbitch · 3 months
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remember that
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But everyone need assurance that they are still loved sometimes. The first time Lando almost slept on a couch blurb
warning: couple fight, angst
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It was bad. This time, it was really fucking bad.
After weeks of snarky comments being swallowed in, the "it's fine" line being burned into Lando's ears almost on a daily basis and growing minutes Y/N had to wait before Lando decided to respond to her texts, shit finally hit the fan.
They hadn't seen each other for two weeks now. Inevitable fight broke out right as he crossed the threshold. Postponed dates and forgotten dinners lined up. They couldn't help themselves and put it all on the table. First it was the fact she didn't smile upon seeing him, then it was a reminder that he promised to bring something from Italy and forgot. It went on and on and on. She sat at the dinning table, while he leaned over at the kitchen counter.
"Lando, sometimes it feels like I'm in a relationship with your assistant and not you! For heaven sake, this week I had to call him, once again, when I could not reach you. Do you know how embarrassing it is?" she half-screamed into her hands.
Lando took a breath so deep an average yoga teacher would be jealous. "How am I suppose to be expected to pick up on a race day. You know that I get super busy and distracted."
"Funny how you never were when we started dating," she murmured bitterly.
He had to turn away, couldn't watch his love giving up on him just because they were not in the honeymoon stage anymore. "Yes, but now I'm winning races! Closer to my dream that I've ever been. It's different now."
"I'm glad I met you back then, because obviously you'd not date me if we met now," she couldn't stop those words that rotted in her coming out.
A beat. Maybe it was time to actually break the rule for once and go to sleep angry, because it was getting out of hand. "You know what, that's probably true and it breaks my heart that once I start doing well, you're suddenly not the supporting girlfriend anymore."
A crushing blow. "Tell me how am I suppose to support you if you don't even answer my phone! We used to talk for hours!
"Maybe understand that I can't!"
"I do! But you can't assume that I'll let you push me away completely!"
Lando thew his hands up in desperation. How could she not see it? "I'm coming here to you whenever I have a slightest chance! And I come what? You constantly dragging me through the mud."
"Oh interesting you mention that. How sad that your assistant had to remind you of my sensitive skin before you having him book me an "apology mud massage" when you cancelled on me few weeks ago," se shot, knowing it would hit the target.
"How do you even know that!" he said, unable to comprehend that he did not even control his paid assistant, not mention his own life anyway.
"Well, I talk a lot to you assistant! And he slips up!" It was a weird friendship between people who both wished they could get a little more info out of Lando.
"That's it. I can't deal with this now," he said, with the intention to sleep on the couch for the first time in their relationship. He didn't even know why he chose that action, walking towards their bedroom and dramatically bringing a pillow and a blanket over to the sofa, but if this is what couples did when the fought, there must have been a reason for it.
It absolutely infuriated her. Sparked up something she hoped she'd never feel. "Oh, sleep tight." she spitted with bitter undertone.
"I will!"
//
They walked around each other in silence, him getting ready to sleep on the couch and her cutting her skincare short this time and spending more time debating whether to close the bedroom door as they usually would or leave it open. Just in case.
He could hear her shifting back and forth. It angered him a little bit, since he was the one playing a cruel joke on his already tired muscles.
Thousand things she wanted to say and only one came to her mind in a form of an actual sentence. There goes nothing. "Do you still feel good about this?"
"What?" he whispered, not expecting her to speak to him again before the next day.
"Nevermind, forget I asked."
"About what!" He hated when she did this. If you didn't catch up at the first moment, she did not give you a second chance.
"Do you still feel good about us, being together?" She cursed herself for asking this. Dangerous questions brought up explosive answers. She wished for a reassurance and a rejection. She snuggled deeper into her blanket and turned around to face the door. As if wishing for him to stand there and coming back to her.
Lando hated her question. In fact, it made him furious again. But it was a peace offering, he had already learned that before. "Even here, lying on the bloody couch, because we're fighting...It's the place I wanna be at."
Anxiety kicked in Y/N. "What, you mean like away from me?"
He laughed lightly. She was always thinking the worst. "No, silly. The exact opposite...We could both be at thousand different places at the moment. But we're not. And for me at least, it's because like---I want to be with you. I hate that we'd drifted apart lately. I'd love to be in bed with you, laughing without a care in the world, like we usually do. But, we can't do that now. And yet, I'd rather be left on the couch if I know you're next door than all alone in my bed." His words hit like small drops of rain after a long draught.
She whispered, choosing her words carefully. "You're my twin flame. You make my soul light up in fire, make me feel like I'm the sun. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"
Lando also tuned into sweeter tone, one that was more familiar from days filled with sunshine. "What, my love?"
"That we're gonna burn out. You and me, ending up like an epic love story. The good ones work because they end in tragedy."
"You're always so poetic," he smiled, proud to think he was her love story.
"There is no other way to describe how you'd changed my life. Flipped it upside down the moment you walked into the same room."
Lando chucked. "Yeah, remember that?"
"How could I not."
"You were not having a good day."
Finally, she spoke loudly again. "So, what? Everything was going to shit and the event we were doing had to be perfect before the 'important people' arrived".
"Such an ego boost to know I was your priority before you even met me," he uttered, happy to push her buttons.
"Oh, and you were so cocky! Just laughing around, like we were some sort of comedy sketch."
"Well, I'm sorry, have you heard yourself when you're upset? The way how your voice goes up seven octaves higher?" he laughed, his breath feeling lighter now.
"Coming from you, that's rich! You were giggling in a tone so high the elderly couldn't hear you!"
"I'm so happy I managed to bag the grumpiest person in the building. And bare in mind there must have been around 500 people there."
"980 if you could in staff as well."
He let out a heavy sigh. "You with your pristine memory."
She paused before responding. "Yes. Wish I didn't have that sometimes."
"Wish I had at least a pinch of that."
Silence fell in both rooms. Heavy breath and wondering eyes. The lack of their touch suddenly being more obvious than before. Playing a contest who will reach out first.
"Lando?"
"Yes, my love?"
"Can you back here, please?" she said, somewhat nervously. Lando took a pause. There was nothing he wished for more. It hurt to fight. But he figured a relationship needed that sometimes. As the poets say, you loose a woman when you forget to cherish her. He liked to think this went both ways. And they both started slacking a bit. He could only affect his own behavior, with the hope that she'd also come to the same understanding.
"I'd like nothing more in the world, my love."
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twstowo · 4 months
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Kissing Their Foreheads [One Final Forehead Kiss]
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.
♡︎ Includes: Third Years
[First Years]☆[Second years]☆[Third Years]☆[Here]☆[Extras]
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After your long journey of kissing each of your friends, you find yourself in the same spot where you had found Ace at the beginning of the day. The spot is empty now, Ace long gone after his pitiful display. You only wanted to give him a sweet forehead kiss! Why did he even have to behave the way he did? Couldn’t he just have accepted your affection?
You sit down on the bench, the soft evening winds caressing your skin. The moment feels peaceful as you finally stand alone at the end of such a busy day.
You are aware that Ace knows about your little adventure; not long ago, you sent him a message, and no one is surprised he ghosted you! You were inches away from blocking him! No! Maybe you should tell Riddle about the rule Ace broke last week! So many good ideas, but you simply roll your eyes at his behavior. It’s almost the end of the day; you shouldn’t be getting worked up after him.
“Henchman! I have been looking for you the whole day!” You hear Grim as he jumps on the bench. You watch him as he complains about the lack of cans of tuna, and then you remember the most important thing. Something you should have thought about long before.
Grim, he hadn’t received a forehead kiss yet! How could you have been so blind?
“WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU-” As you take hold of his face, you give him a forehead kiss, a well-deserved one.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
“For how long are you going to stare at your phone?” Deuce’s voice comes from behind Ace. In fact, he had been staring at your message for the longest time ever with an annoyed expression. He knows that at this point it just looked like he had ghosted you, but he simply didn’t know what to answer. “Just tell them that you liked their forehead kiss!”
For more than Ace wants to snap at Deuce and tell him to shut up, he knows that he is right. At this point, he is the one acting like an idiot. He sighs as he slowly starts typing, but everything he writes sounds way too sappy for him. There is no way he can send any of those messages.
Ding!
He hears the message sound as an image pops up in front of him. It’s you hugging Grim and below the message reads: ‘My favorite forehead kiss!’
As slowly as possible, he closes his phone and lowers it down. “That damned cat…”
“You lost to a cat??”
“SHUT UP, DEUCE!!”
@hotaru57 @takimarasukido
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Love isn't dead
Yandere cupid x reader
Tw: yandere, minor mention of body horror, obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation
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💌you couldn't remember when he first appeared or when you could feel another presence near you. All you knew was that you had a cupid trying to set you up.
💘always nonchalant when you'd open a closet door and he'd be hiding inside. Pausing to stare before continuing to put the towels away. He swore you could see right through him and at him at the same time. But that shouldn't be possible. Because humans can't see cupids. They're not supposed to
💌but that obviously wasn't the case with you. Sweetheart quickly became more bold. Watching you quietly and forgetting his task of finding your soulmate. It got to a point where you blatantly confronted him after you finished bathing, noticing a pair of pink heart eyes staring at you from the top of the shower curtain half way
"are you going to keep staring at me like a creep or are you going to actually introduce yourself?"
"gah-!! Ah.. uh right! Ofcourse! I-im sweetheart! Pleasure to meet you!"
💘after Introducing yourself, you set some ground rules. 1. Don't watch you while you shower, use the bathroom, or sleep 2. Don't Invade your space 3. He can't stalk you while you're out and about
💌at first he followed these rules, nodding obediently and following them diligently. But then he noticed something.. when did you become so beautiful? He swore you were more beautiful than his mother.. so kind and patient, he almost didn't want to finish his job, just stay here with you forever. Offering him food, caring for him, giving him hugs and cheek kisses. He wanted more.
💘he broke your rules, but he never let you find out. He'd never want to upset you! Having gotten better in hiding, he silently watches from the shadows. taking things he's sure you won't notice. All he talks and asks about now is what you like, what you're thinking of or if you got your eye on anyone. Claiming it's because he's curious about humans
💌 growing possessive, he uses one of his hate arrows whenever a suitor tries to approach you. How dare they try and take what was his! Can't they see you're too perfect for them!? He saw everything else as inferior to you, nobody was worthy to see your smile. A god/dess among rubbish.
💘he started using his arrows to distance your loved ones, until he was all that you had left. Comforting you, holding you close, wiping away your tears. He felt a foreign burning feeling in-between his legs whenever he saw you cry. Wanting nothing more than to lick them up but he knew you would consider it weird
💌he didn't dare use a love arrow on you, he wanted to see you. The real you at all times. Ignoring the angry calls his mother and siblings would send him, urging him to finish his job and come back home. So he did something he never would have thought of doing. Something irreversible. He cut off his wings, turning him mortal
💘he smiled up at you with a lovesick grin, while you could only stare at him in horror. You had just gotten back from a miserable day at work and stumbled into the bathroom to find it bloody and covered in familiar pink feathers. Slowly walking backwards, glancing at the small bones of where his wings use to be, sticking out. Bloody and mangled.
"this is all for you.. don't you see? I'M your soulmate! We were made for eachother my darling! So let's be together forever.."
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januaryembrs · 2 months
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I MIGHT JUST BE IN LOVE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [8]
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GIF by fightingdragonswithwho
decription: the FIVE times they hide that they're dating + the ONE time they tell everyone
word count: 17.5k
warnings: blood, gore, usual cm stuff. FLUFF, OH GOD FLUFF. mention of sex (minors DNI in this one), no actual smut but very close to it (actual smut chapter of their first time to come soon), tiny sprinkle of angst because its ME.
author note: WE'RE BACK POOKIES. I'M SO SORRY MY BRAIN STOPPED FUNCTIONING.
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‘oh god I’m gonna marry him, if he keeps this shit up,
I might just be in la la la la la love’
The one with the revenge.
“This is so against company policy,” Bugsy murmured, her fingers twined in Spencer’s hair as he pressed urgent kisses to her neck. 
“Only if they have evidence,”  Spencer replied, his brows furrowed as she attached her lips to his fervently. They’d held it together until this point, kept the touches minimal, left the make outs and needy hands for home when they could be themselves without exposing their best kept secret to the rest of the team. But today was different. Virginia had reached an unnaturally hot peak, and the whole team had been forced to swap out their usual professional attire with something more casual. Spencer had forgone his sweaters, which had been a mourning in itself, and instead had been rolling his sleeves to his elbows in some attempt to cool his thick veins. 
Bugsy hadn’t needed to voice her opinion of the new look. Spencer wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t blind. He saw how she looped her fingertips between his, the second they had a minute alone, how her eyes trained on his hands when he drove them home, how she would press a quick peck to the back of his hand in between moments of silence when she had little more to do with her mouth. 
“Isn’t that funny, the evidence locker doesn’t have cameras, that’s almost-” She cut herself off with a jolted moan as he kissed over her collar bone, nipping so gently that it wouldn’t leave a mark. 
“And you guys say I talk too much,” Spencer said, a hint of teasing in his voice as she looked at him with a gaping mouth, learning very quickly that Spencer was a downright menace when they were sneaking around, the boy who never broke the rules, who ironed his socks and folded his underwear almost devilish at the idea of doing something in secret.
She pinched his bottom cheekily, and he jumped slightly, only to find her giggling to which he cut her off with an even harsher kiss. 
She was addictive, which was a strong claim to be made by a man like him. Yet he found himself thinking everything about her lips was laced with a toxin he couldn’t keep away from, like he’d had a taste of fresh air and couldn’t be without or he’d begin to turn bluer than Violet Beauregarde. He’d found the golden ticket, the key to the factory. For once in his life, Spencer Reid had come out the other side and won. 
Bugsy’s hands were yanking at his locks, their lips sliding against one another, and he pushed to the back of his head that they only had about three more minutes before it became suspicious that they were gone from their desks so long. 
And as if some being up in the heavens was sat back watching with popcorn, the door handle rattled as someone entered the room, and the two of them sprung away from one another. 
David Rossi strolled in, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand as he sat through his second batch of paperwork, looking for the file from the Milwaukee case to use as source material, His shirt had been unbuttoned, the Virginia heat stifling and he was already starting to regret picking a hot drink over the cold crap that wasn’t even real espresso that Penelope liked from Starbucks, yet he thought he might take anything that would cool him down when he strolled into the back room that was known for no open windows, and the sight of two sweating agents greeted him. 
Spencer’s hair was messed from where he must have ran his hand through it a bunch of times, trying to get it off his neck, Bugsy’s shirt was tucked where she probably attempted to cool herself off in the obnoxiously stuffy four walls as they both flicked through separate files, standing about ten feet apart from one another. 
“It’s a hot one today, kids,” He said, sliding his coffee on the table and strolling past the two of them towards the ‘M’ section. 
They stole a glance at one another, knowing smiles passing between them because it felt entirely clandestine what they were doing. 
“Don’t suppose the director would mind if we pulled funds to invest in a BAU swimming pool, would they?” She chimed in, fanning her blouse out because it really was stuffy in there, she had just assumed it was the feeling she got when she kissed Spencer. 
“We fuel the jet once a week, what’s a pool between co-workers,” He shrugged, smiling when he heard her giggle. 
Spencer pulled the folder he was actually looking for off the shelf, making his way to the exit, watching her eyes shy away from him because they both knew it was entirely obvious when they looked at one another, mainly because his cheeks heated up beyond what he could excuse as being the heat wave.
Yet he was feeling brazen, and maybe a little embarrassed at the way he’d leapt up as she’d grabbed his butt, and with a quick glance back to make sure David was nose deep in the bookshelves, he reached out and gave her ass cheek a quick pinch as he waltzed passed her, hearing her yelp and drop her folder as he did so. 
He left the evidence room with a smirk, heading back to his desk and keeping a low profile though he knew she was scrambling to collect the papers off the floor in the wake of his shameless grab. 
“You okay?” Rossi asked, his brows raised and watching the girl rearrange all the papers into a neat pile, a flustered look on her face. 
“Yeah, just thought I saw a spider,” She said, her voice breezy though her heart racing was anything but. She would have her revenge for that, she swore. 
If Spencer wanted to play that game, then it was on. 
-
Two days later, she had all but strolled into work with a shit eating grin, and he knew she was plotting something then. She had been unnaturally quiet on the car ride, had tried to keep her glances at him sparse, though he caught the little smile that tugged at her lips whenever he looked at her. 
“What?” He tried, despite the fact she shook her head in refusal, her eyes already sparked with mischief, “What? What’s that look for?”
“Nothing, just concentrate on the road, Spence,” She said, though he heard her toes tapping together with delight, and she sighed dreamily as she looked at him. Though he was under no illusion that it had come from a place of endearment, no matter how much she adored him. Because of course she loved him more than anything, he had no doubt about that, yet he also knew she loved a sweet serving of revenge just as much, and it was for that reason her smile alone worried him a little.  
“Oh, nothing, really?” He said with narrowed eyes, though he felt the infectious beam spreading on his face because he loved seeing her happy even if it undoubtedly was coming at his expense, “So I shouldn’t be expecting salt in the sugar shaker, hm? Or a water balloon under my seat?” 
“No, absolutely not,” She feigned innocence, reaching over to squeeze his hand in hers with a guiltless expression, “I am much more creative than that, Spence. I’m going big or going home, honey, you should know that by now,” 
Spencer snickered, pulling her hand up for a sweet kiss to the back of her knuckles, “I don’t know why I expected otherwise,”
The look of the cat that got the cream returned, and she merely hummed along to the radio. And oddly enough, Spencer was excited to see what she had hidden up her sleeve if it meant he could make her so childishly excited. He thought about embellishing his freight when she inevitably jumped out at him or had a can of worms pop out of his desk drawer, just to have her seem fulfilled just that bit longer. 
He didn’t care how much of an idiot it made him look, he was already a fool in love. 
Spencer trailed a few paces behind her as they stepped out onto the sixth floor, and he knew she had something truly diabolical planned because she was so brazen as to lean up and press a kiss to his mouth in the elevator, pressing her body against his and letting her velvet tongue slip into his mouth tenderly. He could have slammed a hand on the emergency stop button right then and there, could have devoured her mouth and her lips and her hot kisses some more until he stumbled out of the doors drunken and idle on her intoxicating touch. 
He made a move to caress the back of her head with one of his large hands, weave his nails through her scalp to hold her tight to him, only for her to part quickly, leaving his cheeks flushed and his lungs craving more than just oxygen. 
“For good luck,” She said with a chirp, a skip to her steps as the metal doors slid open, and she danced away from him with a grin that told him his day was about to be swiftly ruined by whatever it was she had organised. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a mildly worried tone, not letting her get away from him too easily as he paced behind her, his lean legs weighed down and skittish by the fact his cock was quickly getting hard at the spritely woman who had him trailing her like a dog begging for a bone. He tried not to think of the irony in those words, his expression conflicted between interested and hesitant, “Bugsy?”
“I thought you were supposed to be a genius. It means good luck, Spence,” She teased through a wry smile as she plonked herself at her desk chair, swivelling around to face him almost immediately, looking up at him through thick, roguish lashes, “Oh! Hotch says he wants the Oregon files done today, pretty boy,”
Because it couldn't be honey or baby or the other nice names she’d taken to calling him, but she could get away with the same name the entire team had called him for over ten years. 
Taking a final glance at her face that had chaos written all over it, Spencer held his tongue, looping the strap of his satchell over his head and gently placing it on his desk, his forest hues watching as she logged onto her computer, trying to keep her excitement subtle as she grinned into her keyboard clicks. 
Spencer Reid had learned quickly never to start something with that girl that he couldn’t finish. And yet, by a stroke of boldness and lust, he had gotten caught up in the whirlwind of their excursions. He had forgotten in between the soft touches and gentle kisses and soppy exchanges just how hellish she could be when she wanted. 
Shaking off whatever that look on her face meant, he rolled his draw out of his desk, the report he’d been half way through typing up laying where he had left it last night before Hotch had told them to wrap up for the day.
Pulling the manilla folder from his desk, he swore his heart leaped into his throat as a piece of thin, lacy fabric had appeared beneath his scribbles of handwriting, laughing at the look on his face when he spotted it sitting there in his drawer. 
He’d never seen her wear the satin, red thong before, but judging by the way his mind raced like a gelding let loose to conjure images of her in them, he didn’t seem to find it difficult imagining it. The lining was a gossamer mesh, small posies decorating the front in subtle detailing, but it was the floss-like string that trailed down the back that made him stutter, because there was no way that was covering anything important even if it tried. 
He heard a small giggle, and his head shot up to the offender, only catching the back of her head as she hid into her keyboard. He knew his cheeks were already flushing with poker hot flames, he felt them as much prickling and biting with heat, and he swore the shudder that ran down his spine was involuntary when he reached out to brush the fabric with his fingertip, testing the waters to see if there were really even there. Spencer’s jaw had slacked open uselessly, and she made it a mental note to tease him that she had finally been able to render the man who could tell her Thomas Edison’s childhood pets in alphabetical order speechless. 
“You alright, Spence?” JJ asked with concern lacing her fair brows, because her heels seemed to have made no sound as she had been walking by, unless they had and he’d been entirely wrapped up in his punishment to notice.
He slammed the drawer shut, loud enough to attract the attention of Morgan who was nose deep in his own report, and Spencer nearly cursed when his thumb got caught in between the pieces of wood, choosing to smash his lips together tightly instead and nod wordlessly.
“Something the matter, pretty boy?” Bugsy asked, feigning naivety as she swivelled around in her wheely chair, and he could do nothing but look at her with terrorred eyes, because he had hugely underestimated her with the can of worms idea. Though he couldn’t help but think that’s exactly what she’d opened in showing him that underwear. 
He wondered, in between thinking of excuses to give JJ as to why he had looked so disoriented, if she had a matching set. 
“T-tired,” He managed to bleat, his thumb throbbing where the pain had surged up his arm, and it seemed his pathetic justification half worked as JJ shot him wary eyes and a small smile, one that said she would let him off with that dumb response for now. 
Bugsy blinded him with a grin entirely cheshire, and she drew her file to her chest as she stood from her seat, following in JJ’s footsteps towards her boss’s office. 
“Oh, just so you know, I have it in black too,” She said almost too casually, sticking her head over his desk with a sly pull of her lips, as if she was doing nothing more than letting him know to expect rain in an hour or so. 
And he could do nothing but stare after her, his finger still aching from his mistake, begging himself not to take another peek at the divine material sitting just inches away from him. 
Spencer knew then, if he hadn’t figured it out already in the seven years he’d wanted her, that he was fucked.
2. The one where they almost get caught on a date.
She sipped the straw with a coy smile, the whipped cream and cherry only making the thick drink sweeter to the taste as he watched her intently. 
“Good?” He asked with a cottony mouth and her lips popped off the straw, her mouth exploding with strawberry goodness. 
“Gotta admit, it’s kind of living up to the ‘best milkshakes in town’” She replied swooping in to pop the glacé cherry between her painted lips as Spencer took a sip from his own double chocolate delight, not missing the way her eyes lit up as she crunched into the fruit. Pushing her cone shaped glass onto his side of the sticky wooden table, she gestured the straw his way, “Swaps?” 
He smiled, because he loved sharing his things with her. He might have found it annoying had it been anyone else because he had always had his things and other people’s things separate. He’d always kept his things to himself, not selfishly or maliciously, merely for the fact he liked having his own things uncontaminated. But with her it was different. Spencer would give her anything she wanted, which included a sip of milkshake here and there. His whole left leg if she asked.
Spencer’s almond curls fell over his forehead as he leaned down to sip the strawberry shake, sliding his own over to her awaiting hands, the cold glass moist with precipitate under his fingers. Yet he watched her, her lips pulling into a satisfied smile as she took a gulp, the two of them staring each other down with sickly sweet, adoring glances. 
“Good?” She repeated back to him, and he nodded, a large, broad hand reaching over the table to swipe a touch of whipped cream from her cheek, her skin soft and hot as hell under his advance. 
“Delicious,” He said, and without really thinking of the consequences, licked the cream from the tip of his thumb, his pink lips making a lewd smack as he did so. 
She watched him with hawk eyes, and he had a glowing sense of smugness as she shook her head to herself. 
“You’re not being fair,” She grumbled, huffing and slumping back in the squeaky diner seat, and his hand quickly chased hers over the table, grabbing it into a loving entwine of fingers and palms. 
“What’s not fair?” He asked, though the shit eating grin told her he knew exactly what he was doing and she nudged him with her sneaker for it. 
“You. Looking like a damn porn star drinking your milkshake.” She said, and he felt his cheeks twinge with a blush as she chuckled, squeezing their fingers together to tell him she was only joking. 
“Seems I’ve moved up in the world of explicit professions. First you called me a stripper, now I’ve been bumped up to porn star,” He teased, remembering the confusion that had written on her face the day they’d met. Spencer knew it had nothing to do with his freaky memory, he’d known she was special the second that door had opened, he knew everything Bugsy was committed to memory for the fact he couldn’t forget her even if he tried. 
She shrugged, a smirk on her lips, “What can I say, you’re a sought out man. You could charge double if you got Morgan in on it,” 
He laughed, shaking his head, “Only double?”
“Maybe throw in a Valentine’s day discount for your loving girlfriend,” She added with a million watt grin, and he rolled his eyes, hating how he could do nothing but indulge her when she was like this. 
“Ofcourse, I can't have pretty girls paying for things,” Spencer said, because he was somewhat confident now about flirting with her, knowing it would have the full desired effect and more. “Just out of interest, are we still talking about Morgan being involved?” 
“Well, I was going to give him the evening off to spend with his own girlfriend, but if you’re really so insistent-” He shot her a raised brow and she giggled, leaning forward to kiss the thumb that had been slowly stroking the back of her hand, “Always just me and you, honey,”
He smiled earnestly at that, and they exchanged a look that said those five words were much more set in stone than the teasing may suggest. Just them, always. Spencer could get used to that.
She leaned over the table for a quick peck on the lips because as much as she loved him, and god did she love him, they had quickly found they were just as embarrassed by affection in public as the other. 
“I’m going to use the bathroom before food comes,” She said, slipping out of the latex red seats, his head following her as she waltzed over to the loo, the two of them looking back at one another with small smiles like lovesick children. 
She loved the rhythm they had found, albeit the secrecy. It was nights like this, when they were able to act like a normal couple, when they were able to kiss and hold hands and flirt and look at each other with such heat it should have been public indecency, that she knew she wanted him forever. Because if this was how good it felt in private, she could only wonder how good it would be to tell people she was enamoured by one very handsome, very clever, Spencer Reid. Yet she loved having something for just them. In the lives of people who examined each other for a living, having secrets were like gold dust. Let alone a secret between profilers. That was pure jackpot material. 
He smiled into his lap, because he was truly happy for the first time in years. He had everything he’d ever wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He had the girl he’d loved for nearly seven years playing footsies with him while he eyed her lips and tried to analyse just how much she would hate being one of those couples that made out over milkshakes and burgers even if it was all he wanted to do. 
Spencer Reid had drawn the winning hand, no cheats or tricks or card counting needed. Just being him, awfully, nerdy, awkwardly him. 
He leaned in to take another sip of his milkshake, because they really were the best, only for his contented face to drop the second he saw four people walk through the door all smiles and fancy suits and heels, entirely unaware of what they were stumbling on. 
Spencer had never fumbled around his pockets for his phone faster, hitting the call button on her profile picture, which happened to be her asleep on the sofa with Sergio’s feet in her face while Niko peeked out at the camera from under the blanket, because Spencer thought it was possibly his favourite photo of their little family. She answered on the first ring, and he could just see the confusion written on her face before she even spoke. 
“Spence, I love you but I’m peeing right now, did you miss me that much-”
“Garcia and Morgan just walked in,” He whisper yelled, cupping his hand over the mic, whipping a look over his shoulder where their friends were standing at the host’s desk, waiting to be served. “They brought their partners, they’re staying in, we gotta go,”
Bugsy’s face tightened, her panties down to her ankles, Brittany Spears’ If You Seek Amy blasting in the women’s bathroom and she wondered, on bated breath, if this was exactly what her life had come to. 
“...Shit,”
“I’ll pay the tab and try to distract them now, you slip out and we’ll meet in the parking lot,” Spencer rushed, his brow sweating as he saw the waitress lead Morgan and Garcia’s new beau, Sam, over his way, no doubt towards the free booth next to them.
“Alright, I love you,” She quickly rushed, and he whispered it back, before the two of them hung up and realised just what a miracle it would be if the two of them got out of this undiscovered. 
Morgan’s dark eyes lit up in recognition as they neared their seats, just as Spencer grabbed her purse and stashed it under his shirt, dragging her milkshake over to his side of the table to make it seem like he was alone. Not the most convincing of cover ups, but it was all he had. 
“Pretty boy,” Derek called, and Spencer faked shock as best he could, though his mind was entirely consumed with whether or not Bugsy’s side of the plan was working out. 
“What are you guys doing here, I thought you were taking Savannah to that fancy place on fifth,” Spencer said, his gaze trailing behind his best friend to see Savannah and Penelope too wrapped up in chatting to catch up to the boys. Savannah turned to the woman with a polite smile, excusing herself for a moment and heading towards the bathroom. 
Shit. Spencer thought for a moment, watching the stunning vermillion dress trail off to the toilets, and Spencer was convinced then and there they were done for, Shit, shit, shit. 
Derek looked a little guilty, “You know how it is, man. We got home late from the case, missed our reservation, had to bring my lady to the next best thing. Patty’s.” Derek chuckled and Spencer smiled fleetingly, though Derek could tell it was bothered, “You here with someone-”
“Pretty boy!” Garcia cut Morgan off, bouncing over in her pretty Dorothy-red heels to where their genius was shuffling out of the booth, fidgeting with his hands nervously. “Are you here with someone, are we totally destroying your street cred?” 
“No, no. I’m here on my own, I had a hankering for milkshakes,” Spencer nodded convincingly with a taut smile as Penelope and Morgan simultaneously turned their heads to the two glasses half drunk on the table, before they looked at him with raised brows as if to wordlessly question his alibi, two milkshakes for one guy, Reid? Feeling their eyes on him, he baulked, “Like I said, hankering.”
Bugsy felt like this was some sort of Greek tragedy. 
After doing her business and washing her hands in possible record time,  Bugsy cracked open the door to the bathroom just enough to stick her head out, eyes scanning the restaurant for Penelope and Derek. She caught Penny’s Barbie blonde hair almost instantly, her sing song laugh travelling straight across the room into Bugsy’s ears and it was then she realised she was with a woman. The red dress spoke for itself, her hair was luscious and silky like she’d popped straight out a shampoo advert, her skin that of a bronze goddess, and she immediately clocked that it was Savannah, Derek’s new girlfriend, which made all the more sense when she caught their hunky co-worker talking to a very flustered Spencer. 
The girls had shamelessly stalked her instagram in Penelope’s lair at lunch just that week and sweet heavens was a catch, if not for her job as a nurse then for the toned figure Bugsy was convinced was god playing favourites. She stared at the back of the woman’s head, whatever she’d said making Penelope chuckle and turn towards her, her head pointing right towards where the women’s bathrooms were.
Bugsy slammed the door shut, quickly retreating back into the loo and yanking at her hair in a flurry of white hot panic. God, she hoped Penelope hadn’t seen her, or things were about to get ten times more difficult to explain why the two of them were out for a meal on Valentine’s Day, whilst claiming they were entirely platonic ofcourse. She wished the door had a window or she had X-ray vision or something-
A window. A window. That was it. 
Head whipping around, her eyes locked in on the two windows above each lavatory, the stall walls luckily low enough that she could see they were big enough for her to slide through if she was careful enough. 
Heading back into the cubicle she had been in, she shut the door behind her, and slammed the toilet lid down to give her a step. Her chest pounded, lips pursing when she cursed Derek and Penelope for possibly the only time in her life, because their date had been going so well. And yet here she was, cracking open a window in the diner’s toilets and she wondered for a second time if this was what her life had been reduced to. But Spencer was worth it, she told herself. She’d crawl through a million diner windows if it meant she got him all to herself. 
As if the universe was laughing at her, the second she’d swung the window open far enough for her to pull herself through, the bathroom door opened and she froze. 
Flashing a guilty look over her shoulder, her eyes widened in fear as she made direct eye contact with the woman who had entered, her lucious brown hair falling like silk over her shoulder as she stopped in her tracks, seeing the girl clear as day over the top of the stall. 
Bugsy prayed, on god’s she had never believed in she prayed that Savannah didn’t recognize her, though why would she. Unless she herself was a serial stalker. Though there seemed to be no hint of recognition in her eyes, just shock horror. 
A beat of silence passed between them. 
“Terrible date,” Bugsy said, thinking quickly on her feet and Savannah’s face melted into understanding. 
“Ah,” She nodded, “Is he a Catfish or is he a pig?” 
“Both,” Bugsy nodded with a tense smile, anything to get away from the situation where Penelope could walk in on any moment and catch her in the act. And it pained her to lie, because Spencer was the furthest thing from both of those things. 
Savannah rolled her eyes, “Sorry you have a crappy date on Valentine’s day, that sucks. Need a leg up?” 
“I’m good, thanks,” Bugsy said, standing on the cistern and yanking herself up, hoping she wasn’t flashing Derek’s girlfriend a nice shot of her ass. “You should try the calamari, it’s real good!” 
And with that she’d pulled herself through the window legs first, dropping onto the top of Patty’s garbage bins with a ‘urgh!’, hopping off the lid immediately and dodging a heinously large rat that eyed her up for desert and flicking Spencer a quick text to say she was by the car. 
Savannah chuckled with a shake of her head, heading to the toilet herself and hearing a loud bang and a curse from the other side of the wall.
Derek and Garcia watched him look down at his phone with a perturbed expression, “I really should be going anyways,” Spencer excused, his mind reeling at just how she’d managed to slip past the lot of them, though the text only read ‘Meet by car. Window.’ and he could only wonder just what the fuck she’d meant by that. 
“Are you sure we’re not interrupting, Spencer?” Garcia asked, and he only shook his head. 
“Nope, definitely not. The only date I’m late for is between me and Lord Tennyson,” He said, which was almost too on brand for him that they didn’t question it. Spencer nodded to her date and wished them all a good evening before rushing to the front desk, his card in hand as he asked quietly if they could get their burgers to go instead. 
Morgan’s eyes narrowed at his skittish behaviour, his fidgeting fingers that tugged at his shirt, the cufflinks his mom bought him for his graduation that he only wore on special occasions glittering under the swinging, overhead diner lights. 
“Is it just me or is boy wonder acting extra shifty just now?” Penelope muttered, her blonde brows furrowed behind her glasses as Morgan nodded in agreement, Savannah returning to their table with freshly washed hands, her lipstick spruced up in the bathroom mirror. 
“I was thinking the exact same thing, baby girl,” Derek smelled a rat as Reid took a brown paper bag from over the counter, flashing a swift nod back to them as he all but ran out of the restaurant, his long legs carrying him even faster than usual. 
He saw her dusting herself off by his car, and before he could even question what her message had been, she had turned her attention onto him with a spritely excitement and launched up to give him a hungry kiss to the lips. 
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea they were coming, they told me they were going uptown,” He said, his expression worried that their night had been ruined. He gripped their to go bag pathetically, and it was only then he realised she was laughing. 
“Spence it’s fine, it’s not your fault,” She reassured, pressing another delicate kiss to his face as if to ward off the negative thoughts, and he rested his free hand on her hip, trapping her between his body and the car. He pressed into her, letting himself enjoy the affection a little too much in the cover of nightfall, “We probably shouldn’t be-” He kissed her again, because he couldn’t help it, because it was like the adrenaline of almost being caught together had set his body on fire, “-doing this here though, maybe-”  Again, his hand shoving the bag of food onto the roof of his car so he had free reign to cup her face entirely, -”wait until we get home just incase they come looking for you,” 
He nodded dumbly, “Probably,” He agreed, though he watched her with those eyes that looked dark in the moonlight, pressed against her wanton hands that clawed at his chest, pulling him closer as an impossible oxymoron to her chaste words, because she didn’t want him to let go of her, not really. 
He kissed her again, hard, because his chest was still pounding from the close call and her fingers scraped his waist, the feeling jumping straight to his crotch that was already well aware of how close they had become. 
“I love you,” He said with a slight slur, idle from their affection and it was only then he opened his eyes to look at her. She looked impossibly more ravishing in the cloak of night, her eyes sparkling in the street lamps, her lips wet with his own spit, her gaze adoring and soppy and so in love, “I’m sorry if our Valentine’s day got ruined,”
“Ruined?” She said, slipping a hand into his back pocket to grab the car keys, leaning in to kiss his chin gently a couple times, “I get to spend the most romantic day of the year with my very hot boyfriend eating amazing burgers and making out on the couch until the sun comes up,” 
He smiled, cheeks warmer than the freshly cooked beef steaming through the paper bag, and he couldn’t resist shooting a hand out to stop her from rounding the car to the passenger side, grabbing her jaw in one fell swoop, lifting her head to attach their lips once more, ‘one for the road’ he would excuse when he let her go, and he felt her smile into his affection. They let go with a sweet smack, and the second they did her mouth watered for more. 
“That really is the best Valentine’s Day,” He agreed, swapping the car keys in her hands for the food and walking round to her side to open the door for her like a gentleman. 
And that was exactly how it went. Until making out turned into more, more kisses, more intimate, more parts of themselves bared to one another for the first time, and they sat in naked silence afterwards, enjoying each other's body heat until their eyes got heavy and they fell asleep. 
And Bugsy swore she would love Spencer Reid with every part of her he’d touched until the day she died. 
3. The one with the fake boyfriend.
Spencer was pouring kibble when she screamed. The bag was all but spilled over the kitchen tiles as his head shot up, his entire body diverting to the direction of her yell, and before he even had time to put the bag down, perhaps step over the two shadows that dived for the rogue biscuits tumbling to the floor, he heard her footsteps tearing from their room and into the kitchen. 
Because it was their room now. Not just his. 
She wore black pants and a tight, white shirt with her buttons only half fastened shut. His eyes shamelessly dropped straight to her chest, a black lace bra staring back at him and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the week before, wondering for a second if they had a spare half an hour before work. 
It had been eight days since they’d had sex for the first time, and the two of them were struggling all the more to keep it together. He was like a man starved of oxygen, she was a woman let out of a cage, craving one another more than they had ever thought possible. Because before he hadn’t been given that taste of sweet heaven, hadn’t known every inch of her the way he did now, and Spencer thought he might not be able to ever know anything more intoxicating than how she looked in his bed when she-
He was quick to put his hands over her cheeks as she panted, horror in her gaze as she held her phone in her hand, damn near shaken for words, “What? What is it?” 
“Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick,” She murmured, her eyes never tearing away from her phone screen, and he promptly took the device out from her grasp, his hazel hues roving over the bright light. 
His lips parted, and he felt his stomach flurry into life as he saw the raunchy photo she’d taken of her lingerie, their shared bathroom in the background and what looked to be a toothbrush in the top of the photo, clearly having been in the middle of brushing when she’d taken the photo in the mirror. 
His gaze went to the top of the screen, because he certainly hadn’t heard his phone buzz on the counter, nor would it have been such an issue if she had sent it to him, though he suspected he was the intended recipient anyway.
Spencer frowned, “Who’s MILF?”
Bugsy looked at him guiltily. “It’s JJ.” She said through a cottonmouth. 
“You know what that word means right?” He said, and she rolled her eyes because of course he was focusing on all the wrong things, though she guessed that was down to his tented trousers and the rouge that crawled up his neck into the apple of his cheeks because Spencer always found an excuse to cram silences with words.
“Yes, don’t worry, you’re the only one I want to ilf for real.” She said, a hand running through her hair in panic as she looked over his shoulder at the text conversation.
“Can’t you just delete it?” Spencer asked, his eyes scanning the photo again because it certainly would have made his morning receiving a photo like that. 
“Not on messenger, not when- oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bugsy’s voice got louder with every with every curse, and she ripped the phone from his hand when the three little dots appeared, letting her know JJ was in fact typing. Spencer was knocked from his daze staring at the photo, realising that JJ was a profiler just like any of the rest of them, and she could very easily figure out who that photo had been meant for, “She’s typing, she’s typing!”
Spencer took a deep breath for both of them, his hands resting on her upper arms in gentle motions, “Alright, let’s just calm down, she might just be a little confused, I mean you don’t usually send her photo’s like that do you?” He said soothingly, only for her to let out a small screech, and he saw ‘incoming call from MILF’ written in bright white across the top of the screen, “Okay, I’m begging you to change that name, that is so weird thinking of JJ as-”
“SPENCER,” She barked, handing him the phone, “I can’t speak right now, I don’t know what to say, I’ll screw it all up,”
His eyes widened, ushering her hand back to her ear, “I can’t answer it, then she’ll know we’re together while you look like- like that,”
“We live together, I don’t think I’ve worn pants here once in the past five years,” She whisper yelled to him, the ringing going on only longer with every dial thrumming right to her already racing heart, “Oh god, I’m gonna answer it, I’m going to- Good morning, Jennifer, how’s the oatmeal in the Jareau-LaMontagne household?”
“Please tell me that photo was meant for a guy. Or atleast Penelope,” JJ’s voice was full of surprise, and Bugsy already knew she had her fingers rubbing her eye sockets, “Are you seeing someone?”
“Uh, y-yeah?” Bugsy stammered, exchanging a wide eyed glance with Spencer, “A guy from… a bar! I’m seeing a guy from a bar,”
“Oh, Bugsy, why didn’t you say?” JJ asked with a girlish delight, and Bugsy shrugged before she remembered JJ couldn’t see that, and she had to think on her feet for a response.
“It’s just casual- it’s new and totally casual right now,” She stammered, hoping the lie was convincing enough that JJ wouldn’t poke for more answers. But it was JJ, the same JJ who loved filling Emily’s shoes as big sister when she was away, and ‘totally casual’ seemed to not make the cut for explanations. 
“Is he cute, how old is he?” JJ rebutted as she submerged Henry’s empty cereal bowl in the sink full of soapy water, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear.
The girl’s gaze trailed over Spencer’s face, where he had gone deadly silent to listen in on their conversation. He flashed her a devilish grin at JJ’s mothering tone, and she shyly looped a finger through his belt.
“The cutest,” Bugsy replied, with a small beam, and she watched Spencer’s gaze turn doting and sweet. And that time, she hadn’t been lying.
“Oh come on, I want to meet this guy,” JJ said, bringing her coffee cup up to her lips. It wasn’t even that Emily had asked her to look after Bug the first time she’d left for Paris, then again when she left for London, that made her so protective. Moreso that fact Bugsy was a little sister if she’d ever had something close to one. Being the youngest herself, she knew what it was like to live in her own sister’s shadow, a feeling that had followed her around her entire life. 
If JJ was missing Emily, she knew Bug was feeling the same tenfold.
Either way, the second they’d gotten into the office all of three days ago after the incident, JJ hadn’t stopped badgering her about her new secret fling she had.
“He’s busy, super super busy,” She brushed her off and Spencer smirked into his book, his desk chair turned away from where JJ leaned against her desk. Penelope’s heels clicked against the BAU floor as she wandered over to them, a steaming mug of tea in her own hand.
“Who’s super super busy?” She asked, cutting in half way through the conversation to hear only half of the story, and Bugsy shied away into her lap. 
“Bugsy’s secret boyfriend,” JJ raised her brows at the woman who almost dropped her mug, her jaw hitting the floor as she looked at the girl incredulously.
“Did my ears just deceive me? Have you been hiding something from me, cause you know I’ll hack into your social media before you could even say Barbie Dream House,” Penelope said with an aghast expression. 
“He’s just a guy I met at a bar, it’s not a big deal,” She brushed them off, already digging the lie deeper, and she only could hope the reward would be a bigger pay out when she thought back the night after the restaurant. 
She’d tell them anything if it meant she could spend another night like that. 
“Not a big deal?” JJ said doubtfully, flicking a look at the girl, “Come on, I want to meet the guy who’s the best sex you ever had,” 
Spencer slammed his book shut, and twirled around in his office chair with just enough time to watch her groan, and bury her face in her hands. 
“What was that?” He asked, his eyes lit up with a boyish excitement as he resisted the urge to smirk at her, because he felt the glare before he’d even seen it. 
“Nothing,” She snapped at him, eyes laced with an unspoken warning for him to watch his step because they weren’t stupid enough to ignore his sudden interest in her lovelife, “Don’t you have a report due?”
He shrugged with rosy cheeks, his expression that of barely concealed delirium as he watched her flush under the pressure of his prideful grin. 
“You know me, I’ll catch up on that later, let’s talk about this new thing you have,” He brushed off, just as Rossi paced past their mother’s meeting, heading for the roundtable room. 
“We have a case, kids. Life waits for no man, no matter how juicy his gossip,” David said profoundly as ever, and the four of them rose to follow behind him like a trail of ducklings. Penelope’s heels clicked at his side, and she cast a quick glance over her shoulder at where JJ was interrogating their youngest agent some more. 
“You want the 411?” She mumbled, and the old man sighed, watching the girl's floral hair ties bounce with her pigtails at every step. 
“Shoot. Wife number one ruined Real Housewives for me, I guess I need something good,” Rossi said with tired eyes, as Penelope scooched closer. 
“Bugsy has a new secret boyfriend,” The bubbly woman said in between a million watt grin.
He raised his eyebrows at her, flicking a quick look back at the girl who looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole when JJ pushed her for details on their first date. 
“No kidding,” He murmured, tilting his head in consideration how he hadn’t seen the signs, he knew well enough now to know the look of a honeymoon phase. He’d had about fifty of them. 
“Still awaiting details on how he looks, but I reckon a quick deep dive in her socials will get me what I want,” Penelope added as if putting together a report on an UnSub, though the tech wizz would argue mystery man was just as much a person of interest than any of the others they went after. 
He looked at her for a moment, her chirpy tone almost a dichotomy of the invasive stalking she was revving herself up for, and he nearly stopped in his tracks for a second. 
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” He said, with a serious undertone, shaking his head, “I’d hate to be the guy on the end of your wirey maze, Garcia,”
But Spencer’s smile had yet to be wiped from his face, in fact he thought he might just get JJ to say it again into a microphone because the ego boost was set to last a lifetime. 
He promised he’d make it up to her for the annoyingly arrogant attitude he was sporting, but then any man with half a brain would if he’d been told he was the best she’d ever had, let alone one with a brain that had already engraved the sound of that into his hypothalamus. 
And Spencer knew just how he was going to say sorry. 
“Wait, so does this mean that your new hypothetical boyfriend is better than Sean?” Penelope said through the screen as they lounged on the jet on the way home from the case. Hotch’s head shot up from where he was reading the newspaper, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the youngest agent before he had practically thrown himself out of his seat. 
“I’m going for coffee,” He said before anyone could interject and the sight of their boss all but running down the aisle towards the kitchenette made her throw her head in her hands once more. 
“I’m begging you, never make me talk about sex infront of Hotch ever again,” She groaned, and Rossi huffed, clamping his own book shut and shuffling past them to meet where Aaron was spending almost too much time with his head in the cupboard, “Better yet, don’t make me talk about sex with his brother infront of him again,” 
“For the record, old man number two doesn’t want to hear about who jiggles your Jimmies either,” He grumbled, and Bugsy carded her fingers through her hair, too embarrassed to look at the two men that cowered in the back of the jet. 
“Jiggles your Jimmies?” Blake repeated, her brow furrowing, “At least, I’m not that old,” 
“Stop avoiding the question, Princess,” Penelope chided, and Morgan laughed as Bugsy huffed, turning her head away as if she hadn’t heard, “Is he?” 
“That’s usually what ‘the best I’ve ever had’ means, Pen,” She snipped through blazing cheeks, and she could feel the smug-shit eating grin coming from Spencer before she’d even looked at him, “Now, could we talk about literally anything else, please?”
There was a lapse of silence where Morgan exchanged a look with JJ, and the blonde picked under her nail, trying to think of anything else to say before she cracked, because it was rare that Bugsy ever sought anyone out so fondly. 
And possibly because she knew Emily would need the complete, padded out, full update when JJ inevitably called her to rinse her with details. 
“How many kids does he want?” The words fell from JJ’s mouth, not really thinking much about the way Reid’s face was claret red. He had never liked lewd conversations. 
And he wanted to blurt out three, as many as possible, as many as she wants and then another one, but he couldn’t because that would inevitably give their secret away completely. 
“Does he have a stable job?” Blake chimed in, ever the mother considering if the mystery man would be a practical partner, “Is he gentle? Angry men make for terrible fathers,”
“Is he gentle in bed?” Penelope added, her glasses glinting in the light of her computer screen, “Does he do the thing where he-”
Bugsy growled, half way between a groan and a scream, looking between her team with wide eyes, “You’re all perverted, hedonistic, gossip girls, and I beg you leave this alone before I join Hotch and Rossi in the cupboards,” 
“Cupboards are full,” Hotch barked, almost warningly because he didn’t think he could look at her until the subject of her and Sean banging was entirely out of his head. 
And they went quiet again, seeming to take the hint that Bugsy didn’t appreciate their poking. Morgan gave her an apologetic yet amused smile as he slipped his headphones on, Blake pulled out a puzzle book, JJ retired to her side of the couch for a moment of shut eye, though her brain was filled with what she guessed Emily would say about her little sister having a real life boyfriend. 
God help the kid who tries screwing that psycho over. 
Spencer smiled dopily into his book, his hands gripping the leather bound spine tightly, and it was the first time she’d looked at him the whole plane ride. His chest puffed as he met her with a cocky smile that he barely tried to hide, and he swiftly received a kick to the shin for his rare ego. 
But he didn’t care, the sting in his leg all but none existent because she hadn’t been too cruel with her chastising, and he couldn't wait to kiss the anger out of her the second they were alone. He loved her temper, loved her fire and the warmth it gave him, and he thought then there wasn’t a single thing about her that he wished to change. Even if the scowl and pout on her face didn’t exactly suit her. 
His smile was blinding the entire way home, even when they hopped into his car, and he looked at her with ill-concealed excitement, “Better than Sean?” Spencer asked, hopefully, and she tutted, swatting his thigh. 
“Spencer,” She hissed, though his eyes didn’t leave her, waiting for a response, “Fine, yes, better than Sean. Best I’ve ever had, right?” 
Spencer all but pranced up the stairs into their apartment ready to live up to his new moniker. 
4. The one where someone finds out.
“Can I borrow your deodorant?” Bugsy asked, as she slowly slipped a piping hot cup of coffee onto Penelope’s desk, making sure not to spill so much as a drop over the edge of the cute octopus mug.
“Oh, of course!  I always have something spare for my girls.” The tech wizz was quick to fish through her bag for the aerosol, handing it to the woman as she snuck a hand under her armpit to apply. “You ever need tampons, a box of cookies, or prescription painkillers, Garci is your gal. Though preferably don’t tell Hotch about that last one,” 
Bugsy smiled, “You’re an angel,” She said, as she sprayed herself quickly, “I left my stuff in, uh, secret boyfriend’s car. If you got a spare bra lying around your bag, you’d really be a life saver,”
Penelope’s eyes turned catlike as she narrowed them at the girl, “I said I’m your gal, not Mary Poppins,” She replied, looking up at Bugsy with a smug smile as she played with the fluffy end of her pen, “So, you guys hook up in his car or something?” 
Bug pressed her lips together tightly, wondering whether she could let too much slip to the woman who was known for tracking her friends’ phones like they were damn Sim characters on the loose. And despite their relationship being so top secret, it had been five months of sneaking around. Five months of keeping her smiles and butterflies and silly little notions of just how great Spencer was entirely free from girl talk. She knew the moment they told their team, there would be questions and rumours across departments. There would be prodding and interrogating and paperwork to fill out with Hotch, and they more than likely wouldn’t be allowed to be in the field together. 
Which brought her an even more worried thought. What if she was forced to move teams? 
Spencer certainly wouldn’t be the one to move, he had practically made a home in the BAU before any of them even knew she existed. And despite the fact they felt more like a family to her than the houses in every country ever had, she would leave them if it meant Spencer could stay. 
It was different with JJ and Will. They were together, yes, had been in the field together once or twice, but it wasn’t as if they were on the same team, liable to letting their relationship muddy the waters of worklife. She wasn’t entirely sure what the rules were of relationships in the team, and she knew Hotch would become suspicious almost instantly  if she asked; knew she could only lie to him for so long about this so called secret boyfriend before he became overbearingly fatherlike and weaselled his way into her head with those stern eyes and that patient law degree. 
She nodded after considering spilling her thoughts out to Penelope, because as much as she loved Spencer and loved that he was her best friend even before he was her boyfriend, she missed girl talk. The same girl talk he had no idea how to navigate, that was a complete mystery to him with its hidden politics and rules that he was convinced were purposely made up to confuse guys so they wouldn’t be able to figure out what women were talking about. She missed having someone there to hear just how Spencer would stroke her hair before they went to sleep, when her eyes were closed and her breathing was slowly evening out and he thought she was already dozing, when she would glance at him through bleary eyes because she knew he would be watching her, his eyes wide and fat with love as he looked at her like he was a kid seeing his Christmas presents lined up neatly beneath the tree. She wanted someone else to know how he managed to make her coffee perfectly, how he would wake up five minutes before her, drag himself out of bed to brush his teeth and cook her breakfast at the weekends, how she was trying harder to stay tidy for his sake because she saw the way he cleaned her messes up for her without complaints or grumbles. Bugsy wanted someone else to know that he would kiss her like she was going to be ripped away from him at any given moment, and that she melted into a puddle at his feet when he asked to shower with her just last week and they got to spend forty minutes under the relaxing hot water, just holding each other close enough to feel every breath and smile and laugh and everything else they ended up doing when they were naked. 
She loved having him all to herself, truly. Yet there was part of her that wanted to scream to the entire office the second there was a lull in conversation that she was in love with him more truly, deeply, insatiably than she had ever imagined anyone could be. 
Penelope squealed, kicking her legs and pulling her second wheely chair out for Bugsy to sit down in, “Tell me everything, were you in the back or the front? Oh my god were you in the trunk, can you imagine that? Didn’t the seat belts get in the way? What about the handbrake? And the wheel-”
Bugsy laughed with a shake of her head, but she obliged her anyway as she threw herself into the seat, if not for a spare five minutes of relaxing before she started her paperwork. 
“Slow down! I’ll give you three questions, tops, and that’s all you’re getting out of me, Garcia,” She chuckled, cracking open her Dr Pepper can and taking a sip of the cold fizz. 
“Three?” Garcia cried incredulously, “You’re like a genie in a bottle only you withhold secrets instead of granting wishes,” 
“I can make it two if you want, smartass,” Bugsy teased, and she giggled at the way Penelope glared at her, like she was ready to lay one of her perfectly manicured nails around her throat and wrangle her for the truth in a rare bout of Penelope Garcia rage.
“Okay, umm, first question,” Penelope held a finger up, pressing her peach painted lips together because she only had three magic wishes, “What was it like, your guys first time?” 
Bugsy smiled, melting inside because speaking to Spencer about how good he was in bed seemed like a little too on the nose even for her, and she’d kept it hidden for god knows how long, “It was good, but not just good in that way. Although believe me it was good in that way too,” She said with a bashful giggle, her cheeks heating on impact and Penelope squealed, “I felt safe, and he kept telling me he loved me, and when we were done he went to the store and bought me strawberry milk because I told him it was my favourite,” 
Penelope’s eyes melted into puppy dog ones, her lips pulling to reveal her pearly white smile and she quietly ‘aww’ed at the sentiment, her brows tugging together in earnest joy as she watched Bugsy flick the metal tab of the can lid to avoid eye contact. 
“What an angel, who did you pay to find you this guy?” Penelope asked and the girl’s chuckled together. She rocked side to side on her desk chair, mid thought of her very important question, “Alright, alright, next one! Have you told Spencer yet?”
Bugsy froze, flicking a look to Penelope because surely there was no way she could have guessed from that short exchange. She knew Garcia was a hotshot behind a screen, but she would have to be given a spot as a profiler if she’d managed to figure out just from that one question who it was she was trying so desperately to keep a secret.
 “What do you mean?” She said, trying to hide the way her throat had run dry, and Penny looked at her as if she had lost a few brain cells in the midst of the honeymoon phase. 
“I mean, it sounds like you guys spend a lot of time in your room. Spence surely must have crossed paths with him by now?” Garcia clarified, and Bugsy’s brows lifted in what she hoped was well concealed panic. 
“Yes- yes,” She cleared her throat, wishing the stuttering away as she scrambled to cover her tracks, “Spencer has met him, he said he’s a great guy, real baseball whizz,” 
‘Great guy’ didn’t quite cut it, she thought with a chiding voice in her head, but she was sure Spencer would forgive her with a small bat of her lashes, a sweet kiss even. She even thought of a way that would convince him just how sorry she was for limiting him to just the word great, because he was so much more than that to her; she thought of an apology, one where he would be so smitten and drunk on kisses and other things that she could tell him he was the dumbest boy alive and he wouldn’t care. 
Because she was all his, loved him far beyond ‘great’ and the idea of that alone cut his IQ from 187 to a mere 5 on a good day. 
Penelope smirked, like she knew a sudden shortcut in her system, “Remind me to interrogate Reid later about this ‘Home Run’ you’re bringing over for bang bang,” 
Bugsy snickered, making a mental note to remind Spencer where he suddenly fell in her lie, when in truth she had been thinking about the time he’d subbed for someone on Morgan’s team. She’d been thinking about how proud he looked, how he’d smiled for days after, how Morgan and Hotch picked him up and screamed with happiness at their younger agent, but she definitely hadn’t been thinking about how his hair had looked sweaty and full of curls on his neck, hadn’t at all been thinking that his face looked that extra bit kissable when he laughed. 
If it had been Emily, she might have been screwed. She swore her sister could sniff out a lie from her like a bloodhound to a body. It was why she had always been caught sneaking out, always been caught smoking blunts behind the shed, it was why Emily knew for a blatant fact whether she was really sick when she’d claimed she was too ill to go to school. If it had been Emily, she would have been six feet under for that small white lie alone, but Garcia wasn’t Emily. And so Garcia believed her. 
“Oh, third question, you guys are being like, safe right?” Penelope said, with rare concern swirling in her dark brown eyes, and Bugsy sighed with a knowing smile, because it felt like the team did nothing but mother her nowadays, “Because as much as I would love to be an aunt all over again, I don’t think the world is ready for a baby Bugsy,”
“I know what I’m doing, Pen. My IUD doesn’t run out for another couple years, we’re totally fine,” She replied, subconsciously running a thumb over the inner part of her arm where the rod lay under her skin until she felt the odd poking of the device. Spencer had insisted he wore a condom the first few times just to be extra cautious, had begun to tell her the fact sex was only safe 99 percent of the time with an IUD alone before she had kissed him to politely and lovingly tell him to stop overthinking things. However they had run out after the sixth time, and instead of stopping to go run out and get more, he’d decided perhaps they would be safe enough, or perhaps he had stopped caring the second she took her clothes off. 
Penelope grinned, pretending to wipe her brow, “Okay, phew. If you ever need anything, I’m talking condoms, lube, maybe you guys are getting it on and you realise you’re out of batteries for your-”
“Ah,” Bugsy winced, sticking her fingers in her ears and hopping out of her seat to head for the door, the feeling that Penelope was toeing the line of boundaries the way she usually did only this time she was unknowingly talking about Spencer, “Thankyou, Garcia, however I’m going to get going, breakfast is calling, and Dr Pepper is not cutting it this morning,” She said backing away towards the door, looking at the bubbly blonde who watched her go with a cunning smile. Because Penelope always meant well, even if she trampled over boundaries sometimes, or lacked the perfect words to say, she always had the best of intentions, and for a moment the guilt tugged at Bugsy’s stomach for being so abrasive in leaving. 
“As long as you’re being safe, I am happy to know you’re getting some,” The woman brushed off, whirling around her desk to log into her software, her manicured nails clicking against her keyboard at the speed of light. 
Pausing with her hand on the door knob, she looked back at Penelope with softened eyes, a small dose of sentiment trickling into her tone, “Pen?” She said in a quiet voice and Garcia stopped, looking back to the youngest agent with wondering eyes, “Don’t ever change,”
And with that she left to grab herself a coffee, because the guilt of keeping secrets was too much for the early morning.
She saw him coming mid way through lunch, Penelope tucked behind Morgan’s desk, stirring a spoonful of peanut butter into her oatmeal pot, steam whirling from the container with a sweet scent. Morgan leaned against Bugsy’s workspace, his arms crossed over his chest as the two of them chattered, Bugsy picking at a punnet of fat, red grapes. 
Spencer came down the stairs, his eyes already trained on her the second he’d left Rossi’s office after handing some files over to the veteran agent, and he fought the small blush away from the apples of his cheeks. Because even after five months of calling her his girlfriend, just the sight of her glancing up at him with that look in her eyes had him bashful.
His hand dived into his bag before he could forget, a rare and near impossible occurrence for him only he’d found he had the tendency to get sidetracked when she was around, usually looking at her expressive face when she was talking, or getting lost in the light scent of her hair that wafted over to him, watching the way her hands fiddled with her stationary when she was thinking. Bugsy made Spencer Reid forget things, and it was for that reason he knew she wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, not that he needed reminding of it. 
“Here you go, you left your deodorant in my car,” Spencer exclaimed, producing a pink can from his satchell and handing it over to her with little thought to the chaos those ten words had created. 
Because Spencer had unknowingly just set off a time bomb, one that threatened five months worth of covert operations. Unintentionally, ofcourse, because those five months had been just as hard on him. He had just been excited to see her. 
Bugsy felt herself go a sickly colour, felt her stomach drop and the wind whoosh from her lungs at the sound of it and her head whipped to Garcia before she could think to be even the littlest bit subtle, because never had there been a clue about their little secret so blatant and open for the taking. 
And as if that hadn’t been the nail in the coffin, as if the small look of confusion that washed over Penelope’s face hadn’t given away the small feeling of puzzle pieces slotting together in that wonderfully big brain of hers, Spencer plonked a drink from the cafe down the street on her desk. 
It was a pink liquid, thin and sickly looking, with a whipping of fresh cream on top, and a glacé cherry to make it look extra delicious. 
“I got you a strawberry milk as well because I know you wanted one last night,” He said, a helpful smile on his face as he slid it over the table to her. It wasn’t the brand that she loved, or the Nesquik powder she kept stashes of in their cupboards, but he knew she would devour it nonetheless. 
And yet she didn’t look at him with that loving gaze like she usually did when he brought her presents. Didn’t throw him a ‘thankyou’ dipped in hidden affection, or a small squeeze of his hand that they usually could get away with because they’d always been affectionate. 
Instead, the second the words had left his mouth, her eyes went so wide he saw the whites of her sclera, saw her pupil shrink as her head jerked around to Penelope who sat in Morgan’s desk chair, the oatmeal in her hands shaking as she lifted her dirty spoon to point at the young woman. 
“Pen-” Bugsy started with a warning tone, the panic laced in her words that were quickly overtaken by Penelope’s voice yelling, her eyes equally as peeled back wide with horror.
“OH! OH! You- YOU- And the- and the milkshake- and you said- OH,” Penelope screeched flicking her porridge covered utensil like a teacher pointing at a naughty student, and she was quick to turn her attention to Reid, “AND YOU! YOU- OH GOD-” 
“Woah, woah, what’s with the yelling, baby girl?” Morgan asked earnestly, holding his hands up in surrender to the woman who had cut through the working silence of the office, some of the other agents lifting their heads from their work to see what the commotion was about. Even Hotch had shot a look to the BAU floor from his office, and judging by the annoyed look on his face as he stood up from his desk, they didn’t have a whole load of time to shut Penelope up before Hotch began demanding answers.
This was it, Bugsy told herself. This was the moment she’d been dreading, when they would be outed to the whole office, not even getting to decide when or what they told the team that could soften the blow of a cover story so huge. The moment when Hotch would likely get her to put in a transfer form by the end of the week with a slap on the wrist.
But she wasn’t ready to leave; Bugsy didn’t want to be anywhere that wasn’t with her team, even if there was a grey area in the rules about what she and Spencer could and couldn’t do in the field. 
And so she sprung towards Penelope, a hand grabbing the arms of the wheely chair Penelope sat on, looking the woman dead in the eye. 
“Hey, Pen, quick question about IT for you, I think we should head to your office, don’t you?” She said quickly, already rolling the woman back towards her lair with frantic eyes while Penelope hopped between five trains of thought, her oatmeal all but slipping from her hands, “Spence, get the door for me would you?”
“And Spencer- you said Spencer spoke to him- you said-” Garcia muttered on like she’d opened pandora’s box and peered inside to see the great wonders of the universe and returned a madwoman, her words only made more dramatic by the way she pointed in Spencer’s face as he passed by them, his own expression curved into worry as he’d quickly clicked what the tech whizz was babbling about, “BASEBALL, SPENCER- SHE SAID YOU LIKED BASEBALL-”
“Okay, am I missing something or was that an extra dose of weird and wonderful from Garcia this morning?” Blake said with narrowed eyes as the genius boy held the door open and Bugsy wheeled a yelling Garcia down the hallway to her office, the youngest agent with an oddly harsh tone as she shushed the woman. 
“Pen, I’ll explain-”
“But you- YOU!” 
“Shhh!” 
“Something’s ruffled her feathers, I can tell you that for free,” Morgan said, his eyes trailing Spencer as he strolled behind the bickering women, tucking his hair behind his ear worriedly, “That right there was a level nine Garcia freakout,” 
JJ’s brow creased, as Hotch headed down the stairs towards the trio, all too aware of the commotion Penelope’s yelling had caused while the rest of the office attempted to settle back into their reports. But it seemed everyone’s eyes trailed after the three agents heading towards Penelope’s office, watching the car crash of a moment through the freshly cleaned windows as Pen tried speaking, though yelling may be a better term for it, and Bugsy barked at her to calm down. 
“What’s level ten?” The blonde asked, her arms crossed over her chest, and Morgan shook his head.
“You don’t wanna know,”
“YOU TWO ARE SEXING LIKE BUNNIES AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US?” Penelope all but yelled the second Spencer shut the door behind him, and Bugsy ran a hand over her face out of embarrassment, her cheeks hot and painfully tingly. 
“Penelope, would you please keep your voice down, okay, this isn’t a big deal-” Spencer tried to interject, his palms out in a non threatening manner like level nine Garcia was an unsub they were trying to subdue. The older woman looked at him wide eyed, as if he’d just told her the sky was falling, and her mouth dropped in aghast. 
“Not a big deal- NOT A BIG DEAL? Spencer Reid, two of my best friends are screwing around in his car- your car- and you mean to tell me to calm down?” Penelope shrieked, and Spencer wondered for a moment if he was getting yelled at or she really was just that shocked, “I mean, this is groundbreaking, like more groundbreaking than the Anniston-Pitt-Joley affair, you guys are messing around right under our noses- this is like the talk of the century-” 
“W-we’re not just messing around, Garcia,” Spencer spluttered, scratching at his neck awkwardly, “I mean not that that stuff isn’t great, cause, god, of course it is,” He looked at Bugsy who smiled with an unnatural shyness, rubbing at her mouth with an anxious touch, “But it’s not just that, I really-really love her,” 
Bugsy thought she might have just melted on the spot there and then as she looked at him over her shoulder, a meek simper spreading across her face and she flicked a look back to Penelope with pleading eyes. 
“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know it's sudden,” She said quietly, and for once Penny listened, because it was like the air had shifted to accommodate the gooey feeling of love between the youngest agents, “But he’s right, it’s not just fooling around, Pen, we’re just being us. And we wanted to keep it that way a little while,”
If there was one thing about Penelope that Bugsy knew would tug on her heart strings, was that Pen, at her core, was a romantic. She gushed over the kisses in the rain, the soppy proposals, the cheesy love confessions. And judging by the way her horror seemed to have melted away, she was entirely right, because it left behind a sparkly look in her eye that flicked between the two of them, like she was a kid watching the prince get the princess for the first time all over again. 
“Wait, so you guys are like, in love love, like wedding bells and a white picket fence with kids in the yard and all that?” Bugsy grinned, feeling Spencer’s arm lay over her shoulder, pulling her close to his side, and in a rare moment of PDA, she looked up at him with the full extent of her adoring gaze. 
“I’m vetoing the white fence, but I guess so,” She said with crude humour, and he smiled down at her, raising his brows and almost instantly they’d flung back into how it was when it was just the two of them at home. 
“Vetoing the fence? How are the kids going to play in the yard, we’ll be raising a small horde of them,” He quipped back, and she laughed, burying her face in his chest as Penelope watched with fascinated interest how they fit together the same way they always had and yet now they were suddenly different. Glowing. Golden. 
“I was thinking more of a flock but okay-”
“Are you kidding me?” Pen interjected, her tone exasperated and sweet, besotted with the sight of the youngest agents poring over one another unapologetically and she felt like slapping herself silly because how had they not noticed before. “I take it back, you guys aren’t Pitt and Joley, you’re- you’re William and Kate, you’re Neeson and Richardson, you’re just,” She sighed dreamily as the two of them glanced at her with coy smiles, entirely exposed in their sickeningly loved up stupors, “Meant to be,” 
They looked at eachother, because Pen had hit the nail on the head, the fact they’d danced around one for so long that it felt like they had always been made for one another the second they’d kissed that day in her room. Bugsy couldn’t imagine a life without Spencer in it, didn’t think she started existing really until he came knocking on her door in search of a translator. Spencer never believed in god or heaven or angels, but he knew whatever it was that had sent her to him when he was ten feet below his rock bottom, was something even a man so smart as him couldn’t explain.
Bugsy grinned toothily at the tech whizz, pointing a reprimanding finger in her direction, “You can’t tell Morgan, this is top secret,” 
Penelope’s mouth dropped its smile almost instantly in moral offence, “Wait, what? But I always tell big daddy everything,” 
Spencer face scrunched in bafflement, his lips moving before he could stop them; “Big Daddy?”, whilst Bugsy brushed off the nickname almost too unsurprised at the woman’s words.
“Please, Pen, pleeeease,” She begged, her eyes round and wide with a pleading expression that made her seem ten years younger, and Penelope looked like she was ready to crack within mere seconds , “We’ll tell everyone soon, I promise, just please give us a few more weeks to figure things out,”
And Garcia showed signs of crumbling. Not that Spencer could blame her, because Bugsy could get anything she wanted from people when she really tried. He liked to think of it as her sixth sense, sometimes wondered if she had some sort of mind control over him that she hadn’t told him about because he seemed to bend and sway to her whims almost too easily, and it was almost comforting to see Garcia facing the same struggle as she huffed, turning away from the puppy eyes that stared into her soul. 
Penelope sighed, pouting a little at the fact she’d been given an explicit instruction to hide something from Morgan, the very idea of which setting her in a dampened mood. Yet she glanced back at the two agents that held onto each other like they were awaiting lottery results, their imploring eyes trained on her and patiently holding out for a response, knowing she was the only person in the whole world who had the power to put an end to their hypothetical romcom montage they’d been swept up in for months. She bet to herself for a moment that they would have some kind of cheesy seventies or eighties hit playlist running behind all of their hidden moments and secret affections, might have Cindi Lauper’s Time After Time running when they had their first kiss, She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel when they danced in the kitchen at breakfast. 
Penelope Garcia was nothing but a hopeless romantic, and it was for that reason that she rolled her eyes with a wry smile, and Bugsy’s chest deflated with relief, her expression lighting up with joy, that Spencer was quick to replicate. 
“What would you kids ever do without me?” Garcia said with a dramatic huff, and Bugsy all but threw herself at the woman, grabbing her in a tight hug, squeezing her so hard she nearly popped a pom pom out of her hair. 
“Oh, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, I swear we’ll make it up to you, anything you want,” Bugsy said, her words flooding together with excitement as she buried her face in the woman’s blonde curls, “I swear, it’ll be a few weeks tops,” 
And with just a few more minutes of Penelope squealing over the sight of them holding hands, nearly fainting from joy when Spencer tucked Bugsy’s hair behind her ear lovingly with an adoring gaze, their secret was safe again. For a matter of a few weeks, that was. 
5. The one where he gets shot.
“We’ve got the suspect headed into El Lobito’s diner,” 
“Copy that, we’re on our way,” The sheriff reported, his radio sounding out as he approached the group where they stood around their table crammed full of suspect profiles. “We got him,” He said with a trace of relief, the preacher that had been murdering the prostitutes he pimped out finally within their grasp. 
Bugsy nodded, checking that her gun was holstered and reaching for her vest when Hotch put a hand out towards her, “Prentiss, I want you here with Rossi and I coordinating response here. Blake and Reid, you go with the sheriff to meet Morgan and JJ at the diner,” 
She opened her mouth to protest, maybe to exclaim that she was one of the best shots on the team, that there was nothing more that she could do here than if she was out in the field with the others, but Hotch’s word was always final, and she knew protesting on such a time constrained operation would only end in her unit chief giving her a timeout on the naughty step. 
So, instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, silenced whatever protest she was going to give because she knew he hated hearing her whine, and within a moment everyone seemed to jump at their orders. 
She caught Spencer’s eye as he trailed behind Blake, wishing now more than ever things could be different, because a horrible feeling settled in her gut like a rotten fruit, churning her stomach with horrid thoughts that Spencer was heading straight for the line of fire and she couldn’t so much as give him a hug without it seeming odd. 
She wished more than ever she could grab him in a kiss that Hotch would pretend to not see, that he would understand because the entire team fretted over one another when the cards were dealt and the guns were loaded, wished she could tell Spencer over and over that he needed more than anything to make it back to her safely because she wouldn’t know what to do with all the love she had for him if he wasn’t there to take it. 
Except she couldn’t. Not here. Not so public. 
So instead she flashed him a nod that said a million words and more. I love you, I love you, I love you Spencer Reid. Come back to me because I love you more than life itself, Spencer Reid.
And Spencer got the message, the exchange looking like a plain tilt of the head between coworkers, as he strolled out of the precinct, checking his gun was loaded in his holster. 
His eyes read clear back to her what his reply was, though maybe it was just their spidey sense working overtime, she could have swore she read his mind in the split second that their gaze met. 
I’ll try. I’ll try with everything to come back to you. 
“Copy that, two of ours, three of theirs,” Cruz said with little to no inflection as he held out the speaker phone to the middle of the room, and Bugsy felt her breath catch in her throat as she waited for Alex to go on, “Any casualties?”
“One,” She replied, and the Prentiss woman felt her head go funny at the sound of it, “Coleman. Morgan has a superficial wound to his shoulder, little winded from getting shot in the vest but Reid is..” 
Blake trailed off, her throat choking up with emotion as she watched the boy be loaded onto the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. 
“What?” Hotch pressed, and Bugsy would have to thank him later because she could have sworn words had failed her by now. 
“Reid’s been hit in the neck,” She felt her legs go numb, the world spinning around her like someone was playing a cruel joke on her, like she was falling down, down, down into the rabbit hole, down into wonderland, where Spencer was hurt, badly, and she hadn’t been there to stop it. “It’s looking… bad,” 
Hotch flicked a glance at her where they stood in the precinct, and it was only then she realised all the air had whooshed from her lungs in what she suspected had been something between a gasp and a ‘no’, though she couldn’t say for sure because her hearing had been knocked clean from her, a high pitched whine of white noise ringing in her ears, like she’d knocked the signal from a TV, like her brain had been filled with static the second Blake’s voice floated through the phone.
“Bugsy,” It sounded underwater, and suddenly it was too difficult to swallow, until she realised the feeling was that she might just throw up, and she stepped towards the precinct door in some sort of haze, rustling around her pockets for the keys to the SUV, “Bugsy, wait!” 
There was a hand on her shoulder spinning her around as she was hit in the face with cool air, and suddenly Hotch was there, his umber eyes full of concern, Rossi not too far behind him, and it took her Unit Chief all of one swipe to snatch the keys from her. 
“I- We have to go, Hotch- we have to see him,” She babbled, and she was surprised at the fact she didn’t feel like crying. She expected to feel the burn behind her eyes, the tingling and tightness in her throat, only to come up blank. Like her body had taken a back seat, her head working on autopilot because she needed to see spencer for herself, “They need to know he can’t have any narcotics- I need to make sure it’s on his sh-sheet,” 
Her teeth were chattering. It was the middle of July, why were her teeth chattering?
“I know, I know, he’s in good hands,” Hotch said, in a way that told her he wasn’t being Hotch, that right now he was Aaron. He put a hand on her shoulder, the size of it dwarfing her and he looked at her like he was explaining to Jack why he couldn’t have chocolate before bed, “I know, we’ll go tell them right now, honey. Just let me drive the car.” 
She nodded without really hearing him, and Rossi opened the front passenger seat door for her, a grandfather’s hand on her back that helped her up into the jeep, because she seemed ready to take a tumble at any point, walking like her knee caps were made from jelly. 
“Has Blake said anything else?” She said, her voice entirely childlike, and David would bet any amount of money that it was the shock. He took a look at her, the way her fingernails were picking around each other already in a bad habit he could already guess came from Emily, and Aaron hopped into the driver’s side of the car, leaning over to grab her seatbelt for her. 
“Not yet, kiddo,” Rossi replied, his eyes soft like a teddy as she nodded dejectedly, and he closed the door on her side of the vehicle, opening the back for himself, Hotch mother henning over her. 
Aaron had expected her to worry, god knows he was well aware that Spencer and Bugsy struggled to function when they weren’t close by. He chided himself for splitting them up, yet he’d thought he was doing his best keeping his team in two equal sized groups both in the field and in the precinct. With JJ’s suspicions of a mole in the police force, Hotch and Rossi needed back up just as badly as the others. And god forbid he had selfishly tried to watch over her. Not because he didn’t think she was capable, but because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened while he’d sent her after an UnSub. 
He knew it was wrong to pick favourites, and truthfully if he had to he’d say, his whole team meant something like family to him. But Bugsy was the youngest, the baby if you would, she was mellower than she liked to pretend she was, and she’d carved a small soft spot in his side that he would struggle to get rid of. 
Only now Reid was down, and with him went Bugsy. 
Hotch started the car, quickly navigating his way to the hospital where he knew his team would more than likely already be racing towards in the same state of panic. He caught the way her knee thudded on the carpeted floor, where she tapped her ankle and it took a small glance to his right to see her chewing at her cuticles silently. 
“Bug, he’s in good hands,” He repeated, and she nodded though she didn’t seem to really be listening, “He’s going to be alright,”
Yet part of Aaron felt like he was telling himself that as much as he was telling her. Because if something happened to Reid, he didn’t think any of them would be the same again.
Blake heard her before they saw her, the way Hurricane Bugsy usually went.
“I swear to god, you had better let me through this door right now, or I will have your superior on speed dial by the end of the week-” She snapped, her panic quickly turned vitriol anger as the desk assistant who tried blocking her way into the critical unit looked at her somewhat mortified that his job was walking along a fine line. 
Hotch and Rossi had gone straight to where Morgan sat resting in a separate ward, trying to gather more information about the shooter since Morgan had seen the UnSub first hand.
Blake’s head shot up, the wetness around her lashline stinging with guilt as she watched the youngest agent tear through the waiting room as if looking out for blood. Alex was out of her seat on shaking legs, heading towards the girl who she knew would go down in a blur of swings and insults for Spencer Reid. 
“Bug, honey, hey,” Alex’s tone was motherly, as were her soft hands that she placed on the girl’s shoulders, and it didn’t become clear that the source of distress was from a place of fear instead of anger until the girl whipped around to face the voice, and Blake saw the redness rimming her eyes where she had forced the weeping away, likely putting on a brave face and high walls to stop the real emotion swirling inside her. 
Bugsy looked at the older woman, and that was all it took for her lip to quiver. It didn’t help that Alex threw her arms around her, pulling her in for a soft hug, one she had never gotten from Elizabeth Prentiss, one she had been craving her whole childhood, a mother that held her tight and told her she was going to be okay. 
“What happened?” She said, the sob crawling up her throat, bleeding into her words and muddying them with tears, and Alex had to swallow thickly to keep down the wail that pressed tight against her tongue, “What happened?” 
“He pushed me out the way,” She said with a shaky voice, and it took everything inside herself not to cry right there with her. “UnSub was aiming right for me, Spencer grabbed me and pushed me out the way. By that point it was too late, he’d already pulled the trigger, I’m so sorry honey,” 
“Don’t be s-sorry,” She hiccuped pathetically, clinging onto Blake like she was her only lifeline, perhaps the only thing keeping her standing, “I’m glad you’re okay, I was s-so worried,” 
Alex nodded, knowing she might just start crying then and there with the youngest agent if she were to open her mouth, and instead she chose to press a delicate kiss to her temple, hoping it would have to do since the infamous Emily Prentiss wasn’t there to comfort her sister. She seemed to quieten down enough in the embrace that Alex could pull away, her hands still on the girl’s shoulders. 
“I was just doing a crossword if you wanted to join me?” Alex said, which was a half truth since she had been too bothered to get past even the first three clues, and Bugsy nodded, her mind immediately spewing a million mornings of her and Spencer fighting for space at her desk to do the daily crossword. 
She couldn’t think like that, couldn’t think of him as if he was gone. Because he wasn’t, he was simply down that hallway, in the hands of surgeons who could slash his throat if they made even the smallest of nicks wrong-
“Yeah, I would like that,” Bugsy nodded with a sniffle, wiping her cheeks with her cuff, feeling pathetic and entirely regretful for bursting into the waiting room with a million emotions and no idea which one to feel first. 
She had never been good at putting a name to how she felt, only this time, if Alex were to ask her, she knew she would say she felt guilt. Guilt for not being there to help them, for hiding things from them for almost seven months now, for not telling Spencer she loved him more, not reminding him every second of every day, guilt that everyone was hurting over Spencer taking a knock and yet she was the only one who couldn’t smush it down into a box and put on a brave face. 
Because she couldn’t even if she tried. The trojans had a horse, Rocky had Creed, and she had Spencer. She was all mouth and courage and stone faced until it came to him. He was her Achilles Heel.  
She looked over Alex’s shoulder, pointing at seven across, and sighed with the horrific irony of the clue. A feeling of deep regret and remorse. 
“Contrition” She said, slumping into the chair as Alex penned the answer in with a wobbly lip. 
It was going to be a long night. 
Hotch found her by the vending machine, looking between the Dr Pepper and the Full Fat Coke like one of them would be able to tell her how to feel. She knew he was waiting for her, knew they had a job to do, but she couldn’t make herself move. She felt like the hospital linoleum had claimed her as its own, like she had melted into the squeaking surface until further notice. 
He was out of surgery by now, already in his room resting. It was just a matter of waking up really, and then they would see how bad things were, though by the sounds of it the doctors had hopes for a miraculous full recovery. 
Two centimetres to the right and it would have been an entirely different story, that’s what the surgeon had said. She was two centimetres away from losing the person she loved more than she ever knew was possible, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. 
She thought for a second then, that if Spencer proposed the second he woke up she would probably say yes. Because she’d said it herself, her life had never been her life until it had him in it. 
“Bugsy,” Hotch tried, but her head had turned down, her chin pressing into her collar and it was then her shoulders began shaking, “Bug, come on, he’s going to be okay,”
She shook her head, biting down hard on her lip to stop a whimper of raw pain coming out, “I should have been there, I could have stopped it, I could have covered him,” She mewled, feeling him wrap a hand around her shoulder, and it was only then he tugged her towards him, letting her whimper into his chest as she clung onto him. 
“I know, I know it’s hard, but he’s going to make a full recovery,” He said in that cotton soft, loving tone usually reserved for Jack when he woke up from nightmares, “None of this was your fault, sweetheart, you have to know that-”
“I can’t do this without him, Hotch,” She said, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes, and it pained him more than he’d ever admit to see her look so distraught. Memories of when Emily left flooded him and he felt all over again the painful shell she’d crawled into make an appearance, “I can’t,” 
It was a beg, a plea for mercy, a cry for help, and he could do nothing but nod, because he understood. If any of his team died, his team who he loved like a family, he thought he would crumble all the same. 
Only he knew it was different. He’d always known, deep down, why it was different for them. He saw the way Spencer had always looked at her, how damaged and tormented Bugsy’s eyes were as she looked at him now. And he knew. 
“I know, honey,” He said soothingly, stroking hands over her cheeks to dry them for her, because he couldn’t stand to see her so sodden with tears, “But you know what? You’re going to pick yourself back up until Reid gets better, because we have an UnSub to catch-”
“Hotch, I can’t,” She shook her head, but Hotch only pulled her closer, his eyes boring into hers with more affection than her father had ever shown her. “I can’t-”
“Yes, you can. You know why?” He asked, and she went quiet, shaking her head with a pitiful sniff, “Because I have never once stopped believing in you, even when you hated me, even when you had a damn building dropped on you, even when you were a reckless kid running away from your own wedding, I never stopped thinking that you were the bravest person I’ve ever known. And Spencer never stopped believing in you either,”
Her throat closed up all over again, her eyes wide and threatening to wash her skin with tears all over again as she nodded timidly. 
“Okay?” Hotch said, and she nodded again. He rooted around his blazer pocket for a handkerchief, passing it off to her before he reached for the top button of her shirt. He unbuttoned it with a gentle thumb, poofing her neckline out so she could breath a little better through her dying cries, “Why don’t we get that collar loosened a little for once, huh? Get you a soda, and then we’re going to make this son of a bitch pay for what he did to Reid,” 
Bugsy nodded again, feeling a hundred percent better the second air got onto her throat, and she saw glimpses of what he was like as a dad. Part of her wished then that things would have been different, that maybe she would have had a dad like him, one that knew how to fix things. One that knew just what to say to make her smile. 
He produced a five dollar bill, holding it up for the vending machine to eat as he turned to her, “Alright, now which one are you having?” 
Bugsy thought she might just love Aaron Hotchner ten times more than she already had. 
+1. The one where they tell everyone
She swore she had never run through hospital halls so fast. 
Blake had called her to update her about Garcia shooting the UnSub who posed as a doctor to try and administer lethal doses of medicine to Spencer, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d pulled a gun on her boyfriend and her tech whizz best friend. 
And Penelope had shot him. Killed him. All to save Spencer. 
And she supposed she needed to thank Penelope soon, that she would need to get the girl her own bunch of flowers like the ones she’d quickly excused herself to grab while Hotch and Rossi went straight up into Spencer’s hospital room, even when Aaron had tried to wait for her thinking she was having another crisis of faith, she had ushered him along and told him it was bad form to show up without a card at least. 
She burst through the doors like a bat out of hell, and the sight of Spencer in the scrubs, thick gauze wrapped around his neck made whatever resolve she’d been storing dissolve immediately. Her face crumpled in a cry, and he barely had time to carefully turn his head towards the door, before she had launched herself at him, the flowers and card she had gotten him from the hospital gift shop forgotten and tossed to the floor. 
She would apologise later, because she had ruined his presents despite the sentiment being there; for now she needed to feel him, make sure he was real and breathing and alive the way she’d told herself he wouldn’t be. 
“Bug-” His voice was raspy, no doubt having been drifting in and out of sleep for the past few hours, or even if the doctors had told him to rest his throat so as not to affect the thin, delicate stitches. But it didn’t matter much to her, she didn’t even let him finish anyway before she threw herself at him, minding his wound as she wept onto his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, “Bugsy, it’s okay, I’m okay,”
But she couldn’t even speak, couldn’t even tell him to stop trying to reassure her, stop trying to make her feel better because he was the one in pain. She felt like a coward; she hadn’t even pulled herself together enough to see him before, when he had still been sleeping. The sight of him on that bed, his eyes squeezed shut… she had turned tail and run before she even gave him a chance. Knew she wouldn’t be able to hold herself together on the case if she went into his room and pretended everything was going to be fine the way Garcia and Blake were doing. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll stop-” She hiccupped, lifting her head up to look at him through distraught, reddened eyes, and she saw his face morphing into pure sorrow, his own hazel hues wide with grief because he hated seeing her in so much pain. 
And she couldn't stop herself, her hands migrated to his cheeks, steering clear of the suture. She didn’t think of the other eyes in the room, or the fact only Penelope knew, she suspected Hotch might have caught on by now anyway, she didn’t frankly care. She wanted to feel him against her, to know he was still hers. 
Bugsy kissed him like he was about to be ripped away from her at any given moment, and had she been in any other mindset she might have cared about the fact she could taste the salt of her tears, that he froze under her brazen affection, or that she surely looked a state after what the past twenty four hours had put her through. She didn’t care when she heard a gasp, or felt stares, only that Spencer kissed her back, possibly the most tender he had ever been, his hands soft and featherlike as they traced over her waist to pull her closer. He tasted like Jell-O, and she thought it might just be her favourite flavour suddenly, because it was all him. 
She pulled away with a sniffle, looking entirely sorry for herself and like a kicked puppy, and she was quickly ripped out of her delirium that allowed her to look at him without guilt or hesitation by a loud whistle. 
“Now how long have you kids been holding that out?” Morgan jeered, and Bugsy cracked a smile, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve as she looked at her team. JJ and Penelope clung to one another with ditsy smiles, like they were watching John Cusack playing the boombox over his head at the bedroom window, Rossi stood with his arms crossed, a nostalgic smile on his face as he watched the kids he’d seen grow up finally seem like they were at home. Morgan looked ready to tease some more until Blake put a hand on his shoulder, entirely motherly and chiding, and Hotch looked at her and her alone like he was looking in a mirror.
He supposed, for once, the bau had found a happy ending. 
--
@release-your-sweets s @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal l @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3
@rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover r @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @green_vita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @splatteredpurplepaint
813 notes · View notes
sunsburns · 10 days
Text
you make me (sick)
pairing: ex!luke castellan x woc!reader
content summary: social media au where you and luke broke up but he's not over you... and you don't think you're over him either...
—or: your ex keeps posting to get your attention
author’s note: just a silly request that made me giggle so here we are. i haven't made anything for luke in a hot minute but fuck it we ball!! (if any of you guys know a social dummy like for insta pls share cause i like make this) also layout creds to @voguesriot
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♫ Von dutch by Charli xcx
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♡ liked by clarisselarue , lukecastellan , and others
yourusername i’m just living that life 🍏
view comments
silenabeauregard and looking hot asf while doing it
yourusername i try my best
clarisselarue ur actually stunning pls spare me
annabethchase you’re so pretty yea okay but what about my photos creds?
yourusername only if you, percy, and grover pay me
annabethchase for what??
yourusername uh gas. that trip to the beach wasn’t free. and those snacks didn’t pay for themselves
annabethchase fair enough 😔
percyjackson BRAT!
yourusername this better be a charli reference 💚
percyjackson sure. if it helps you sleep at night
groverunderwood looking good! water was cold tho
connerstoll why are you getting dragged by children in ur comments
yourusername i babysit percy they’re my children basically
percyjackon you USED to babysit
┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 
DIRECT MESSAGES
clarisselarue: i don’t know if you’ve noticed but uhh HE liked your post
yourusername: who?
clarisselarue: l*ke
yourusername: oh yeah i saw lol
clarisselarue: and you’re fine with it? cause i literally remember holding a bucket in front of your because you cried so hard over the breakup that you threw up
yourusername: that was months ago
yourusername: plus it was a mutual decision to break up and we decided to stay friends
clarisselarue: you know friends actually talk to each other right?
clarisselarue: like you don’t run out of the room because he walked in
clarisselarue: you also don’t avoid each other for months
clarisselarue: you also don’t act like they don't exist
clarisselarue: you also don’t hang out with his little sister and her friends
yourusername: for your information, i was friends with annie before i was friends with him
yourusername: and it’s almost like you want me to have a bigger reaction
yourusername: i’m trying to be soo nonchalant right now lol
yourusername: but whatever i don’t care
┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 
♫ ALL MINE by Brent Faiyaz
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♡ liked by connerstoll , charlesbeckenoff, and others
lukecastellan new hobby
view comments
percyjackson song choice is ruining ur aura bro
percyjackson -200 aura
lukecastellan why are you always hating bro ffs
percyjackson clearly i’m not hating enough
percyjackson ur posting like this is a tiktok thristtrap 🤢
groverunderwood not too much on him now 😭😭
chrisrodriguez you can beat me up with those gloves anytime
travisstoll AYO?? 😰
connerstoll chrisrodriguez this is crazy even for you 😭😭
chrisrodriguez i didn't realize being a good friend was crazy all of the sudden 😒
clarriselarue new hobby this and that but you still can’t beat me without a sword 🤨
lukecastellan i highly doubt that.
annabethchase i don't doubt it
lukecastellan ur supposed to be on my side??
annabethchase on what rules?
lukecastellan on the “that’t by brother and i love him” rules
annabethchase debatable
┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 
♫ Sick by Dominic Fike
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♡ liked by annabethchase , yourusername, and others
lukecastellan travel + family
view comments
chrisrodriguez love u man
lukecastellan best brother i could ask for
silenabeauregard proof of luke having a heart? what the flip?
lukecastellan i’ve always had one wdym?
percyjackson this is news to me
annabethchase 💗
connerstoll posting like ur nonchalant 😭 okay man i see you
groverunderwood also SAW him crying to “lover, you should come over” the other day… so, no. definitely not nonchalant
annabethchase why r yall airing out his business rn 😭😭
percyjackson why is my dad posted up w you?? take this down.
clarriselarue two posts in one week? this is getting suspicious
lukecastellan i’m starting to get the hang of instagram
clarriselarue yet you couldn’t tag anyone..?
percyjackson lukecastellan no she’s right you need to take this down, too much of you for one week
┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 
DIRECT MESSAGES -- the gods’ fav girls + grover ✨
yourusername: that son of a bitch.
groverunderwood: what what happened???
silenabeauregard: good morning to you too
clarisselarue: it’s like 3:30pm
silenabeauregard: oh worm?
groverunderwood: worm?
silenabeauregard: oh word***
yourusername: oh worm?
clarisselarue: LMFAO
annabethchase: what happened?
silenabeauregard: ten bucks it’s about luke’s posts
clarisselarue: i’ll bet it up to 20 if it is
yourusername: it’s not the post...
yourusername: its the song
groverunderwood: what's wrong with the song??
silenabeauregard: which post??? yall hold on it's been like 3
clarisselarue: yeah wtf is his deal? he needs to stop clogging my feed.
yourusername: the sick one. the song with the sick
annabethchase: the dominic fike one?? i thought you loved the song?
yourusername: exactly.
clarisselarue: OHHH CLOCK IT
silenabeauregard: OMG
clarisselarue: he’s soooo trying to get ur attention
groverunderwood: type shit.
silenabeauregard: like why would he post with that song
yourusername: exactly.
annabethchase: knowing it’s ur fav...
yourusername: EXACTLY
silenabeauregard: he’s literally obsessed with you
yourusername: EXACLTYY
clarisselarue: exactly
groverunderwood: are we reaching?
annabethchase: no
silenabeauregard: doubt it
clarisselarue: there’s literally no other explaination
groverunderwood: i think you guys are feeding into the delusion. what if luke is simply just… posting?
yourusername: oh i mean truee…
annabethchase: good point, grover!
clarisselarue: so... what do we think?
groverunderwood: HES TRYNA GET YOU BACK!!!
silenabeauregard: SOO TRUEEE
clarisselarue: YUPPP
annabethchase: CLOCK IT!!
yourusername: he still down bad
annabethchase: so bad
silenabeauregard: he wants ur babies
clarisselarue: for sure for sure
yourusername: i want his too tbh...
annabethchase: AGGH EW??
clarisselarue: CRAZY
groverunderwood: DAMN
silenabeauregard: PLSSSSASFJGS
┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 
lukecastellan just posted on their story!
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you replied to lukecastellan's story
DIRECT MESSAGES
yourusername: you’re a sick man
lukecastellan: i don’t understand?
yourusername: a slut, perhaps.
lukecastellan: if you think i look good just say so
yourusername: you’d like that wouldn’t you?
lukecastellan: maybe a little
yourusername: maybe a lot
lukecastellan: maybe
┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 
♫ Dark Red by Steve Lacy
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♡ liked by silenabeauregard , lukecastellan , and others
yourusername me n my bag against the world
view comments
clarisselarue hey sexy ;) i’m free tonight if you wanna hmu
chrisrodriguez it’s date night tho??? clarisselarue
clarisselarue ur just a bae on the side
yourusername chrisrodriguez you got room for one more?
chrisrodriguez i feel like i’m thrid wheeling my own relationship bro
annabethchase: ur so so pretty 😍
yourusername double it and give it back to you
percyjackon you look good and all but if you zoom in on the top left of the first photo you can see a cup on the counter and i want everyone to know that i, a CHILD, was put to LABOUR, and FORCED to get up and pour water into that cup and give it to her cause she was thirsty.
yourusername i said thank you
percyjackon not ENOUGH 💙
groverunderwood ate the plate down 🥴
connerstoll ribbons on a bag?
yourusername for the aesthetic
travisstoll i will never understand
lukecastellan bag looks familiar, where’d you get it?
yourusername got it as a birthday gift a from some guy. he’s kinda weird tho...
clarisselarue this is painful even for me
lukecastellan yourusername how was he werid?
yourusername ft me and i’ll tell you all about it
groverunderwood WOAH SMOOTH OKAY
chrisrodriguez BUDDY SHE HAS MOVES
silenabeauregard i’ve taught her so well 🥲 they grow up so fast
┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 
you just posted on your story!
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lukecastellan replied to your story
DIRECT MESSAGES
lukecastellan: and you said i was the sick one 🤔
yourusername: i don’t know what ur talking about 🤗
lukecastellan: yeah right
yourusername: ur just sooo attracted to mee ooooh 😵‍💫
lukecastellan: i am
yourusername: it makes you look soo dumb
lukecastellan: it does
yourusername: you want me soo bad
lukecastellan: i do
lukecastellan: i literally don't think we can stay just friends
lukecastellan: it was a fucked idea on my part
yourusername: oh
lukecastellan: please don’t block me
lukecastellan: i actually wanna talk about this and us
yourusername: wanna meet by the our spot?
lukecastellan: i’ll be there in five minutes
584 notes · View notes
star-girl69 · 8 months
Text
Let Me Love You Like A Woman
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.
a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey
******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT
warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.
And unknown places scare you.
There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.
You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.
You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.
It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.
She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.
“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.
You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.
Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.
That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.
She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.
As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”
Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”
You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.
“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.
“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.
Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.
“We have a mission for the two of you.”
“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”
The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.
Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.
“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.
Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.
“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”
Chiron presses his lips together.
“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.
“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”
Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.
Clarisse looks at you.
“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”
—-
“Y/N.”
You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.
You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.
Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.
But, Chiron needed to like you too.
You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.
It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.
She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.
She smiles.
“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”
“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.
If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.
And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.
Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.
“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”
Her face hardens.
“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”
You rip your hand away from her grip.
“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”
“You’re crazy!”
—-
You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.
She looks up from her book and laughs.
“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.
“Mission,” you groan.
She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”
“With Clarisse.”
She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.
As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.
She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.
“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
You put your lips right up to her ear.
“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”
“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”
“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”
“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”
“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”
She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.
She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.
The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.
You put your hand on her face.
“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”
What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?
You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.
Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.
And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.
She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.
She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.
You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.
She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.
You look into Marley’s eyes now.
“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”
Marley kisses your cheek.
“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”
“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.
Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.
You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.
—-
The bus ride is boring.
Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.
But you’re bored.
You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.
It’s only been two months.
As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.
You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.
You miss her.
“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.
“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”
Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”
“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”
“What?”
Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.
“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”
“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”
She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.
She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.
But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.
“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”
“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.
—-
You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.
Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.
You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.
“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”
You realize your head is on her shoulder.
You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.
“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.
You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.
She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.
She’s right up in your ear.
“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”
The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.
You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.
“I’d kill it.”
You both know you probably couldn’t.
She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”
Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.
She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.
She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.
“Hm, mine.”
You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.
You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?
It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.
You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”
Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.
—-
You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.
“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.
You can want her, here, where no one will know.
You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.
The station is oddly busy.
You have this horribly uneasy feeling.
You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.
She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.
You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.
But you trust yourself.
“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.
She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.
She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”
“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.
Why is she so fucking confusing?
As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?
She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.
You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.
“Clarisse.”
She seems to see it too.
“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.
She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”
When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.
You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.
Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.
The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.
You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.
It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.
That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.
The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.
Something slams against the door.
You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.
“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.
The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.
It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.
“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.
“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.
Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.
You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”
It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.
The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-
Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.
It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.
It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.
You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.
She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-
You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.
No one would know.
Her spear falls to the floor.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.
No one would know.
“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”
“No problem,” she says.
No one would know.
“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.
“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.
It’s so simple.
You both can get what you want from this trip.
“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”
“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.
You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.
You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.
You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.
No one else will ever come close.
“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”
She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.
—-
The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.
Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.
How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?
You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.
She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.
—-
The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.
You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.
When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.
“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.
You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.
“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.
—-
The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.
“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.
“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.
Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.
Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.
You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.
“On your left!”
Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.
“Asshole,” you mutter.
“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.
Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.
She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.
“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.
“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.
“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”
Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.
Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.
“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”
“Yeah, okay.”
—-
Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.
“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.
You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”
She stares at you for a moment.
“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.
Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.
Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.
“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.
It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.
“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”
She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.
“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.
“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.
She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.
“What are you thinking of getting?”
She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”
You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”
She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.
“What was that?”
She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.
You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.
Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.
“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”
You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.
You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.
“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.
“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”
“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”
“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”
The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.
“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”
“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”
You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.
You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.
“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.
—-
“Clarisse.”
She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.
“Clarisse,” you repeat.
She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.
“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”
“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”
“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.
—-
Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.
You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.
You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.
You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.
You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.
It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.
You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”
She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.
“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.
“Don’t be mean.”
You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.
“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.
You whip around and point your finger at her.
“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”
Her smile falls.
“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”
Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.
—-
When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.
You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.
“Y/N.”
You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.
“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”
You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.
Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.
“A toy?”
“What else was I supposed to think?”
She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.
“I’m sorry.”
Your breathe hitches.
“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”
She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.
“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”
It’s silent for a moment.
“I want you to let me love you.”
She lets go of your hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”
“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.
“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”
You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”
“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”
You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.
But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.
She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.
Your fingers dig into her back.
“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.
—-
“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.
Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.
You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.
Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.
It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.
You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.
Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.
You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.
He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.
“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.
Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”
Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.
Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.
Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.
“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.
—-
marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.
clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟
—-
clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO
—-
honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n
another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish
@sincerely-silk @lacytalks
—-
pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!
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