#like i need to specify this bill was already going to be too much for me to comfortably pay but it was a legit life or death thing

[inmirova]

got a bill that charged 133% of my copay for something and tried calling my insurance on their "24/7 line" only to go through like 12 menu options to an automated "you're calling outside of our business hours (won't tell you what they are though). goodbye."

[finalgilmoregirl]

a/n : feeling angsty, no gender specified, no y/n.

payday. the day mike looked forward to and also dreaded the most. payday meant he was able to take his hard earned money straight to the bank, where he would cash his check... and then watch his earnings get flushed down the toilet as he made a payment on whatever bill he was behind, which was usually a few…

you knew this dilemma. mike voiced it to you every time he came home from the bank and flopped on the couch as he tried to list off all of the other things he needed to pay for with the little money he had left. now he has been good with budgeting, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re providing for yourself and a growing young girl. you paid for groceries and abby’s clothes every now and then but mike wouldn’t let you do any more, always concerned that he looked like he was asking for handouts.

so you tried to do a nice thing. you did do a nice thing, but to mike it seemed like the complete opposite.

when he had gone to the bank that week and attempted to make a payment on his water and heating bill, the bank teller informed him that it was already paid for.

“what- are you sure?” mike was confused. he knew he was at least two months behind on paying it. he had done the math earlier that week. just as his confusion started to make him spiral he was ripped out of his thoughts by the sound of the bank teller saying your name.

“excuse me?”

“it says here that’s who paid for the bill.”

which is what brought him storming through the door of his home. he tossed his jacket off and onto the back of the couch and began angrily pacing, stewing in his upset.

you playfully chased abby out of her room as you both went to the front room to greet mike.

“hey babe”, you said out of breath, smiling as you both came to a halt. “you okay?”

“abby, could you please go to your room?” mike said calmly, but by the flair of his nostrils and the way he kept a hand on his hip you know something was very wrong.

“why?” abby asked, confused and probably sensing her brother's bad mood as well.

“just go. please.” he repeated, to which the young girl complied, swinging her arms while she walked away.

you turned to him, now concerned. “what’s wro-”

“i went to the bank today.” he interrupted your question, causing you to stand up straighter in surprise. “i tried to pay for the water and heat, but they told me you already did.”

a feeling of anxiety began to creep into your body at his aggressive tone as you looked down to avoid his angry gaze. “yeah, i did.”

“why would you do that?” mike asked, walking so he was in front of you, less than a foot apart. you felt like you were being interrogated.

“i just thought—” you started, but he interrupted you again.

“you thought what? that i couldn’t take care of it myself?”

“n-no i know—” you suddenly became bashful, a little embarrassed even as you thought back to you calling a few days earlier to make the payment.

“cause i don’t need your help. i’ve been doing this on my own for a long time and i don’t need you coming in and acting like—.”

“hey!” it was your turn to interrupt him. you weren’t going to let him take your actions and twist them into something evil. “i live here too mike. forgive me if i want to contribute.”

mike scoffed and turned away for a moment, rubbing his hand over his eyes before he continued. “you know, if i had known you would be so overbearing i would’ve never asked you to move in with me.”

you visibly flinched at that as you felt a sharp pain go through your heart. you don’t know what exactly caused the pain. the comment itself, or the way he said it so nonchalantly, like he truly meant it.

you looked away as you felt your throat constrict. you weren’t going to cry, all that could do in that moment was look like an admission of guilt. even though you know you did nothing wrong.

“well,” you sighed, swallowing the lump you had felt forming. “maybe i shouldn’t have fought so hard to end my lease early.”

you were referring to the weeks you had spent fighting with the landlord of your old apartment building. you and mike had begun the moving process anyway, excited to start the new chapter of your lives together. now here you were four months later, almost ten months into your relationship and you wished you could just walk out of the door and go back to that very apartment like you often did when you and mike would argue early on in your relationship. sure it was lonely, but you just wanted to be away from mike right now. so you did the second best thing and walked out of the living room, trying to find any other place in the house that could serve you peace.

mike felt bad about his choice of words, and about his whole reaction to the situation. it was in your nature to help people in any way you could, but mike didn’t want you to see him as a charity case.

hours passed and he stayed in the living room. laying on the couch with his eyes closed as he tried to rest. hoping sleep could help the situation somehow, clear his head at least. this proved a failure though, as through the thin walls he could hear you in the deathly quiet of the house.

every sniffle made his heart race and every deep breathe you took made him want to wrap you in his arms and whisper gentle words to you. but for the life of him, he couldn’t get himself to get up and find you. too afraid that he’d make things worse.

it wasn’t until he checked his watch and saw it was nearing nine o’ clock that he’d have to talk to you sooner or later. he knew he wasn’t strong enough to go to bed without making things right with you.

he walked to abby’s room first, where she was sat on her bed reading. she’d been in here silently for hours. thinking about how he didn’t even think to check on her after the argument made his stomach turn. she did the same thing when their parents used to fight, keeping quiet and to herself until the storm had passed.

“hey” he said from his spot at the door. “did you eat today?” abby just glanced at him and nodded.

mike went over to sit next to her. “listen” he spoke softly, “we’re okay, alright? don’t worry about whatever you heard. everything’s okay.”

abby just looked at him again and set her book down on her bedside table. she laid down and closed her eyes, signaling she was ready for bed.

after mike gave abby her goodnight kiss and stayed with her until she fell asleep, he quietly left her room, now intending to find you.

he entered your shared bedroom and found that you weren’t there, however from his bedroom window he could see the backyard light was on, giving away your presence.

as he reached the back door, he saw you sat on the steps, with nothing but a thin long sleeve covering your arms against the chilly night. you had to have been there for a while, he thought. he slowly opened the door and a cool breeze hit his face, his hoodie giving him enough warmth to avoid shivering.

his steps were basically silent as he approached you, which is where he noticed the distinct box sat next to you.

a box of cigarettes. mike knew you had smoked before you had started dating. you quit for good when you realized the relationship was getting serious, you knew it was a bad habit. you had tried to quit in the past but your worries got the best of you. but now you had the right motivation, you didn’t want to be a bad influence to abby and mike appreciated that, being supportive in your journey to quit for good. it had been almost six months since you last smoked (cigarettes at least), and now here you were.

mike cleared his throat, “i thought you threw those away.”

you didn’t look at him. you just kept staring out into the view of dewey grass and blowing trees.

after a moment you answered, “don’t worry, i didn’t smoke one.” you looked at him for a second before looking back ahead. “i was just thinking about it.”

mike didn’t know what to say, opting to just take a seat next to you. he continued to study you, taking notice of the puffy rims of your eyes and chapped lips. the cold failed to hide the evidence of your crying.

“i thought it would be a nice thing to do.” you said softly, finally continuing what you were trying to say to him earlier. “you work so hard to take care of us. and i thought it’d be a good way to show my appreciation. to show that you don’t always have to take on every burden on your own.”

mike let out a deep breath and looked up, willing back the tears he felt building up behind his eyes. he knew you meant well. he had known that since the beginning. but he was too stubborn and stupid to accept that sometimes the people that care about him will do things for his own good. he needed you to survive. and you needed him.

“i don’t even know why i said that. about you moving in.” he turned to look at you again. he said your name quietly, almost whisper like. “ever since i’ve known you there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t want to wake up and see your face. you have to know that.”

you finally turned and held his gaze, making the beat of mike’s heart quicken. “i think so. it’s hard to know for sure when you reject my help so often.”

“what do you mean?”

“i want to help your problems mike, not make them worse. that's what i'm here for. i’ve shown you i’m in this for the long run and you know that, but if I'm somehow making things more difficult for you then maybe i should-"

"no no no please. you're not, seriously." mike sounded desperate. and that's because he was. he couldn't lose you over this. "you help me in a about a million different ways every day. and you shouldn't have to use your money to do even more if you don't have to."

you shook your head, looking down again, but mike leaned in closer to keep looking into your eyes. "you shouldn't have to kill yourself trying to provide for her anymore mike. if you really want this to work- then i can't just sit by and watch you take on the pressure alone."

you looked back up and finally into his eyes. you could see the hesitation, the fear he had at the thought of letting you do this and you regretting ever trying to help him.

"please" you pleaded, reaching your hand out and grabbing his where it was placed on his knee. "please let me help you."

mike squeezed your hand back and nodded slowly. he knew you, and he knew you wouldn't regret it.

[burntb4bydoll]

BAE I NEED MORE 2023 BILL STUFF 😭😭😭 PRETTY PLEASE POOKIE 😫

YOU GOT IT BAE🤭🫡

ALSO IM SORRY IF U DONT LIKE THIS!! YOU DIDNT REALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANTED SO I JUST DID THIS IDEA IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT

@ilovebill-and-gustav

2023 Bill Kaulitz x reader whos a member of Tokio Hotel

•yall probably had a super duper sweet childhood friends to lovers type relationship

•he loved you ever since you joined the band but both of you were too young and awkward to realize 😭

•as you grew up, neither of you could hold back your feelings anymore and eventually got together. Everyone was so relieved that you guys FINALLY got together, they were so sick of your obliviousness 💀

•going on tour with him is SO GREAT

•obviously Bill is very fun and energetic, so hanging out with him is always a good time

•he makes you make tiktoks with him😭 also makes you take SO many instagram pictures for him. He also takes a ton of you but you never need to ask him to do it, he already takes them without you asking him

•and ofc you guys share hotel rooms and also share a bed on the tour bus

•everyone likes to joke about how you guys are never seen without each other and both of you always deny it. Butttt literally every time the paparazzi takes pictures of you, he is standing right there too. And you are almost always in every picture he posts

•GETS MATCHING CONCERT OUTFITS WITH YOU

•and he wears his big ass platforms so he gets you some too so that the height difference isnt too much💀

•one time you almost tripped and ate shit while on stage and he laughed for about 5 minutes straight. Like yall had to take a break so that he could get himself together 😭 you were just rolling your eyes the whole time while trying to be mad at him, but it was so funny that you couldn’t help but laugh too

•gives you a kiss between every song🤭 he just gets so excited and filled with adrenaline that he cant help but give you a couple of smooches 😇

•post concert sex is 100% a frequent thing for you two

•and the rest of the band complains the next day because they can hear you through the hotel walls, and yall go on for hours😭

•OMFG YK HOW HE POSTED ABOUT HIS VACATION AFTER THE TOUR? WELL OFC U WERE THERE TOO!!

•he loved spending that alone time with you in such a beautiful place. And he definitely whines when its time to go home because he was having so much fun with you and he didn’t want it to end

•overall yall have such a cute and healthy relationship and hes the best bf ever

[munsonhoneybaby]

my love!!! That final part 🥹 you are a STAR! so good. the way you write dialogue, your Eddie especially... he's so so so lovely to read. somehow you keep his edge but all the while he's the nicest fucking guy to ever walk the earth!!!

if one day you're feeling a blurb about them or something, I'd love to read the first meeting with Wayne - I think it could be so funny and sweet. and honestly I just need an endless stream of that version of Eddie and his sweet nothings and his fondness 🥺 obsessed with everything u do WOW

you’re so sweet !! i'm so happy you enjoyed, thank you so much for reading and sending in this ask !!

series masterlist

“Are you sure about this? I feel terrible taking up his day off with this, he should be enjoying his free time.” Frowning nervously, you picked at a string on your jeans. Though you’d been to their trailer three more times since the first, you’d yet to run into his uncle Wayne. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, but you didn’t particularly want to meet him the morning after sleeping at his home unannounced. So, after making a few passive comments to Eddie about wanting to meet him, you were pleased when Eddie told you Wayne wanted to have lunch with both of you. But now, the nerves were starting to settle in.

“He will enjoy this. He’s been dyin’ to meet you, baby, believe me. I already told you, he’s gonna love you.” Taking your hand over the console, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides, we’re just goin’ to lunch at the diner. It’s not a big deal.” Pulling into the open spot next to Wayne’s truck, he put the van in park and looked over at you. “Ready?”

You blew out a breath, “Yeah, I think so.”

As he always did, Eddie got out first and opened your door for you. When you went inside, he instantly spotted Wayne, standing from the booth to greet the two of you. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Hey, kid,” He replied, pulling him into a solid hug. With a subtle yet warm smile, Wayne said your name. You held out a hand to shake but instead were given a fatherly embrace much more careful than the one he’d given his nephew. “I’m glad I could finally meet the young lady makin’ this troublemaker so happy.”

“It’s great to meet you, too. I hope you didn’t have to cancel any big plans to make time for me today,” You jested politely.

He gave a quiet laugh in response and said, “Of course not. Sleepin’ on the couch in the living room ain’t more important than this.” The waitress came to take orders, service coming quick due to the few customers in the diner. “I hear you listen to the same kind’a music as Eddie,” Wayne chimed amiably. “You like his music, too?”

“Of course,” You smile, “I think he’s incredibly talented. I love seeing him perform.” The rockstar in question was embarrassedly hiding his flushed face in his hands.

“I’d come to his shows if I could, but I’m always at work,” Wayne expressed regretfully. “I hear him in his room all the time, but I’ve only seen ‘im on stage once or twice since that middle school talent show. I’m glad he’s got someone he cares about there to support him all the time now.”

The food came, saving Eddie from any further spotlight, and you did your best to continue making conversation between bites. “So, did Eddie get any of his music taste from you?”

“Oh, he’d never admit it, but he tolerates some old country music thanks to me. All that metal and rock stuff is good ‘n I like that he likes it, but it’s not really my speed.”

“I’ve gotta say, it’s a little hard picturing Eds listening to country music,” You chuckle.

“Just when I’m with him,” Eddie specified.

“I’m keeping him open-minded.” The waitress placed a single check on the table and Wayne was quick to open his wallet.

“No, please– let me,” You tried to stop him.

“I would never let a lady pay for a meal. This is my treat, darlin’.” It was becoming clearer and clearer how much of an influence your boyfriend’s uncle had had on his upbringing. Handing the cash and the bill to Eddie, he nodded toward the register. “Go take care’a this.” Eddie looked over at you, but you just smiled reassuringly, so he headed for the counter. Before you could start into another line of polite conversation, Wayne spoke. His voice was gruff, quiet. There was sentiment in his tone, though he tried to hide it. “I really am glad you and Eddie found each other. I’m sure you know by now that not many people in this town give ‘im a chance. I would never wanna embarrass the boy, but he hasn’t exactly introduced me to many girls in his life. I’m glad he’s found one that’s a little more like him– that understands him.”

After glancing back at Eddie, handing over the money for your meal with a kind smile, you gave Wayne a fond look. “He cares a lot about you too, you know. It means the world to him that you took over when his Dad went to jail. And I don’t know if it means anything coming from me, but I think you did an amazing job with him.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a tear well in his eye, but he looked away briefly before you could see for sure. It didn’t seem like people acknowledged his parenting effort often.“You’re a sweet young woman. You’re real good for him.”

“I appreciate that,” You responded honestly.

You both started to box up the leftover food and– just before Eddie came back to the table– Wayne added, “I’ll have to show you the few baby pictures I’ve still got around of ‘im,” making you chuckle.

Eyes narrowing slightly as he gave Wayne his change, Eddie asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” You answered playfully as you stood from the booth. His uncle did the same after leaving a generous tip for the kind pregnant woman who’d waited on you. The three of you headed for the parking lot, stopping briefly to say your goodbyes before you split up. “You’ll have to let me cook for you sometime,” You insisted. 

With another one of those barely-there smiles, Wayne clasped a hand over Eddie’s shoulder paternally. “You’ve got a good one here, boy, you’d better take good care’a her.”

Before he could respond, you assured him, “He does, Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, please, never call me that. It’s Wayne. It was nice meeting you. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Of course, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Once you were back in the van with Eddie, he put the key in the ignition before pausing and looking over at you. “So, what did you two talk about while I was gone?”

“None of your business, nosy.”

Dramatically starting the van, he backed out of the parking spot as he replied, “Y’know what? Fine. Now I’m not gonna tell you about Jeff’s date with that chick from his calc class.”

“Hey, wait, c’mon–”

<3

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[terresdebrume]

19 and 27 for the ship ask game?

<3<3

[From Ship Ask Game: The Basics if anyone wants to send me something!]

Good morning Nonners, and thanks for the ask :D You didn't specify a ship so I'm going to do this one for Webgott and Bill/Babe, because I want to and I can^^

19. Do they wear each other’s clothes/jewelry?

[Already did that one for Webgott]

Harnere (Bill/Babe)

I think about 85-90% of their wardrobe is co-owned. Their tastes are similar enough that wearing the other's clothes doesn't bother them one bit, and aside from a few articles that don't fit well on the other because of their different heights and built (dress pants and shirts, mostly, but also coats and jackets because those keep you warmer if they fit you) after a while they just stop bothering to keep track of what belongs to who: makes their life easier.

In my modern AU, I decided Babe is going to do drag eventually though, and those clothes he won't share with Bill, but that's pretty much the only ones. (The Drag idea is inspired by Arwen88/@blahblahblahclintnickiscanon's fic Heaven out of Hell in which Babe is a USO girl and which I liked so much I just want to re-use it.)

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

Webgott:

I think one of the more subtle ways in which Joe does this is to play with David's hair. He's got other ways of showing physical affection like cuddling or kisses, but at the beginning of the relationship, because he's trying to protect his heart, I imagine he would kind of keep those sex-adjacent. Not necessarily in a conscious way, mind. But the way he plays with David's hair (softly, absent-mindedly, including in moments that have zero room for sex) is maybe one of the first gestures he doesn't feel the need to disguise as something else.

For David, I read a fic where he likes to kiss all over Joe's face when he's feeling particularly in love and immediately adopted this headcanon. (I can't remember where it's from off the top of my head but dear author: thank you!). In addition, I also think he's the hand kisses type: he likes to catch Joe's hand when it's on his cheek and press a kiss on the palm, or when they're holding hands, even briefly, he'll just bring Joe's hand up and kiss the back, sneaky style

Harnere:

I think Bill is a bit of a mother hen, when it comes to Babe, and that's one of the primary way he shows his love: by fussing. Which his friends find amusing considering his general demeanor is often perceived as more of a 'tough guy' kind of person. I also think he likes having Babe sit on his lap, where it's easy to hug him and maybe kiss his neck a little bit.

Babe likes to kiss the top of Bill's head, when he's feeling playful. He also shows love through massages, which Bill knows can be uncomfortable or even painful with his hands*. Generally speaking, whenever Bill gets a little too sore from having to use his crutches or when the fantom pains come back, Babe just gets him to lie down and will massage his back/shoulders/stump until Bill feels better.

Also, and this is very important: they're one of those couples that has The Look**. Sometimes they're in the middle of something completely different, like a dinner with friends or some other occasion, and they'll look at each other with a particular expression, and they'll know because they get each other that much.

*Actual Babe had some kind of issues with them that made them painful on occasions, and while I don't reuse everything from history I tend to keep that detail in, now.

**Obviously, any couple can develop The Look with time, I just think these two get it from like, day 1.

[poupeesdecirque]

Shipping Services

Adventures.... UPS the menance.

Sigh.

So my Logan.Dolls heads were finally shipped last week after a long time and a bit running behind stuff, it’s the last Order from 2021(!) that needs to arrive.

It was shipped by UPS, I had hoped they finally improved their services but boy I was wrong.

So parcel arrived in Cologne last week, as it still was in the US the tracking already said there will be papers needed and that they will contact the sender or me. It’s sitting in Cologne since Thursday.

And nothing happens. Again. I already got war flashbacks from the 2 months they held my Dream Valley order from the UK hostage in 2021 (they almost hit in the last nail for the coffin the hobby was for me at that time) ... I decided to say “F* it, I mail you and unleash my inner Karen, I am so done with shit regarding pleasing everybody and their mother, I want my stuff and not in 2 months, I want it NOW”.

You need to provide a phone number, but their service hours are from 9 to 12, that’s my core working time and I can’t make private phone calls during that time, it’s impossible, I specifially asked them to just reply to the email and NOT call me.

As I went out with the dog before work I decided to leave a note for my parents (those who don’t know: we share a house and the same main phone number because we don’t see a sense in paying phone and internet twice) as well as a voicemail for Mom with instructions what to do if UPS calls.

In my lunchbreak I saw I got a mail reply that was super unfriendly (but well I wasn’t nice either *shrugs*) that they need the bill for the import. Bill send, tracking now says it’s in customs, hope it will move soon.

As I came home my Dad came to me that UPS indeed called. Mom told them everything. They went for their nap and then UPS called AGAIN. Asking for my email address??? Like?? WHAT? Mom went “nope look for it yourself” ... you got the freaking number from the inquiry I have send you you can look 2cm down for the mail address??

We will see how this will continue but just as little insight on stuff that is going on behind the scenes of a doll collector, there is waiting, running behind people and services and involving even more people just to recieve a darn parcel with two heads.

Usually I keep my rants to Twitter but this is part of the process of getting dolls done and there have been so many situations where I just screamed into the void and the hobby became rather unenjoyable with stuff like that piling up.

I will not even begin with things like people feeling entitled to tell me how to edit my photos and the like. I am very patient normally but there has been too much going on and I am just tired of being the one getting left behind because I wait and am patient.

[somethinghappenedsohereiam]

Here's another journal entry, I guess. I made another AU!

So, since my brother told me a little more from the Myst series, I've made a Gravity Falls AU with some inspiration from one of the characters. I present:

Gravity Falls AU That I Haven't Named Yet

Basically, my brother told me of a character named Gehn, who tries to write 'worlds into existence' using some method the D'ni people used. Gehn is trying to make a perfect world, one with no hardships or bad things, but he keeps failing. He's not actually writing worlds into existence, but he thinks he is and he has a God complex. Anyways, I heard this and immediately started thinking about Stanford Pines.

Here's the AU:

Originally it was going to be Ford finding a magic book in the woods that he eventually figured out could write things into existence. It could create things or make things happen, the only catch is he had to write it happening. He basically had to write a story, but it would come true near instantly. He would use the book to bring Bill into the world rather than finishing the portal completely, because the book could make the portal work and be stable as long as the portal was near finished. To be clear, the book doesn't make people do things. He couldn't write "fiddleford walks into the room and picks up a book." And it would happen, though if that was already a thought in fidds head he would be more influenced to do it. It creates thoughts in people heads rather than making them do it. If you know about the book and who has it, your more likely to not be affected by it. However, Ford could write "a tree in the woods snaps in half suddenly and falls." And that would happen. He wouldn't really need to specify which woods, because the setting is gravity falls and if he wanted a tree to fall somewhere else, he'd have to be more specific. It is kind of up to chance, however, which tree in the gravity falls woods falls because Ford didn't say exactly, and he doesn't need to. He pretty much becomes to author for the world, and the book understands context clues.

The AU no longer takes place pre-portal incident however, because the kids aren't there and I can't reasonably put Stanley in. And weirdmageddon would actually destroy the world this early, though this concept could lead to a villain Ford AU who loves the power the book and Bill give him. I can't put Stanley in because Ford is already so detached from him and has no reason to reach out, and with the influence of Bill probably would never see Stanley again.

The AU takes place when Ford is through the portal. Ford is in another universe, and suddenly it starts collapsing on itself. Ford makes it out of that universe, and comes across a worn book. It has a riddle on the cover giving a brief explanation of what it does, and that's it. Ford takes a bit trying to figure out what it is, but he knows that if it was the only thing that came out of the universe that just destroyed itself, he should keep it away from Bill. Ford takes an amount of time learning about the book, keeping it secret usually. He uses the book to get around the multiverse, moving easily in and out and getting pieces for the gun he's building, and just getting back home. The way the book works is the same as previously mentioned.

Ford actually gets back to his universe on his own. Stanley has been fixing the portal, as we all know, and the twins are used to Stan by now. Im thinking it's after season 1, halfway through summer. Despite the kids knowing about Bill, he's not a big part of this AU. And there's a reason for it. Ford did not use the journal for big stuff too much, until closer to when he showed back up in gravity falls by reigniting the portal because he was getting more comfortable with the power of the book. He was kind of on a power trip not long after, since he felt more comfortable using the book with his own world.

This AU I want to focus on Ford kinda losing it and becoming The villain instead of Bill. Over the course of the rest of the summer, Ford is kinda passive aggressive towards Stan since he didn't need Stan to return to his world. Ford is nice and friendly with the kids, especially dipper. He's pretty casual with everyone else. Ford uses the book to try to create a safe world. He is paranoid about Bill, and continues being paranoid with everything that comes to his mind. People or creatures from other worlds he's wronged or gotten in trouble and hes scared they'll follow him, people or creatures in his own world that can cause harm to his family. Basically, Ford making Gravity Falls a safe 'bubble' like what Bill made for Mabel, just more realistic. Because it takes place in the real world. For the most part, none of Ford's family noticed how paranoid he's gotten or what he's been doing because he kept the book secret. Once summer is ending though, Ford is more stern about no one leaving, because he won't know where they are or what's happening and can't protect them. This even goes for Stan eventually, because whether Ford wants to admit it or not, Ford does care about Stan. However, since Ford is still being ehhh not alright with Stan? Ford's not going to say entirely why he wants to keep Stan around, because care for him or not, Ford's still mad at him.

I don't have too many more ideas for this AU, but I really like the idea of Ford getting a bit drunk on power and being protective and suppressive. Idk, maybe it's a bit out of character, but it's a neat idea.

Forgot to add, Stan and the kids eventually get Ford to chill because stan isn't giving up on his brother and the kids aren't giving up on their grunkle.

Also to add, I have my own headcanon for Dipper and Mabel's home life. I decided it would be interesting if the twins parents heard so much about what happened with Stan and how Filbrick treated him and Stanford, that Mabel and Dipper's parents wanted to not make the same mistake, but kinda get close anyways. They don't want the creative child to feel unloved and unsupported, so they shower Mabel with support and attention, but that leaves dipper kind of neglected. He's not abused in the same way Filbrick probably abused Stan, but dipper is given less attention. This is what I think the argument was, because one of the parents noticed they were playing favorites without meaning to. This also gives dipper more to relate to Stan, and Mabel more to relate to Ford. It also kind of explains Dipper's being good at 'people' in a similar way to Stan, and Mabel having that sort of ego Ford has/had.

[viviskull]

WHAT NOT TO DO WHEN INTERACTING WITH MY BLOG - Customizable Edition

BASICS !

Name / Alias: Phoenix

Pronouns: They/Them/She/Her/He/Him (HOWEVER, I do prefer them/they and its easier to remember if you’re too unsure. :) ))

Blog type: single muse | Multi-muse | non selective | semi selective | selective | mutuals only | private | other (specify)

Type of muses: canon | OCs | both | other (specify)

GENERALITIES !

Triggers people MUST tag: N/A

Interest tracker / checker: I have it and it's mandatory | I have it, it's not mandatory but I'm more likely to follow bad / interact with the people who fill it | I have one and I prefer it if people fill it in | I have it but it's to people whether to fill it or not | I don't have one | other (I had one in the past but got rid of it since most people ignored it lol)

Reblog karma: I practice it | I practise it sometimes | I don't practise it | I always reblog memes from the source | indifferent | other (specify)

Rule passwords: I have one and it's mandatory | I have one and it's optional | I don't have one | I send passwords | don't sent passwords | [space for eventual additions / explanations]

3-5 ESSENTIAL RULES PEOPLE HAVE TO RESPECT (All have been sourced from my rules post):

I am NOT a RP meme achieve!  Please do not reblog RP Memes from me if you’re not intending to send one in return.  I’ve seen it done so many times on here that it just really hurts people only use me for that sort of content.  If you want to use/save it for later (like Reblogging/Liking it), go to its source, not my own reblog!  I don’t need that stuff clogging my notifications.  Consider this as a warning: I WILL softblock or hardblock you if you continue to do this repeatedly.  This rule isn’t here for show!

Keep me out of drama you and your friends might be getting yourselves into.  I’ve already had my fair share of it without my consent and I’d rather not lose another 50 years of my life getting drowned in anger.  We all got bills to pay and I don’t have the energy to deal with petty problems lol.

Just something more to know since I don’t like rushing my muses as they come like the wind: I tend to have a writing limit on making highly detailed replies and they often take nearly all day just to write a few basic paragraphs for me.  Either I can make 1 or 2 drafts just fine, but its my limit I put on myself to not burn myself too fast when I constantly reply to threads almost every day; and with breaks in between to help the writing process.  I put a ton of heart into everything I make, even if I tend to be slow for some folks. As long you don’t rush me, you’ll find yourself reading books of info when it comes to interacting with my characters :3

3-5 IMPORTANT PET PEEVES TO KEEP IN MIND

This is more of a personal preference than anything else, at least when it comes to more highly detailed replies of mind.  Unless its like a one off crack RP?  I don’t interact with people who only do one liners for more semi-serious threads.  To me anyway, when I see when a reply I put a ton of attention to detail and ton of heart into the emotions of character, it rubs me the wrong way when someone just replies super quick with a single sentence or a simple word of dialogue.  Yeah, I’m always happy whenever someone gets excited for something we’re both taking the time out of our day for to get super invested in, but a single sentence normally doesn’t give me much to work with when it feels like they’re expecting me to move the plot for them.  I’m a writer, not a DND dungeon master.

People pestering me for replies when they can’t be patient enough for me to get to their thread when they just replied to it.  I have it in my rules stating I am a slow writer and I don’t move quick for no one.  Yes, my RP partners will message me whenever they want to make a joke or plot out details, but constantly messaging someone to BUG and POKE them for a reply is a different thing entirely.  It hasn’t been a huge problem as of late since the RPC has been maturing these few years.  However, having wasted an hour of time trying to explain to someone I can’t force my muses to pump out replies like a workhorse and it only leading to frustration, this type of crap leads to me blocking folks for it; as it has in the past.

Forced shipping and people trying to act sly with dumping their fet*shes onto my muses without asking.  It’s happened to me and some of my friends before.  Normally I’m chill when it comes to folks being open about their k*nks, but girl I just met you and I’m not letting my muses becoming a mineshaft.  Thanks, but you’re getting sent into the void so fast lol.

2-5 THINGS THAT WILL LEAD TO INSTANT (SOFT)BLOCKING

People not not tagging their lemons ig??  This isn’t a hard trigger for me since I’m ace, but its more of a squint than anything.  I like my sauce like the next fella, but sometimes I just don’t want my parents to see smut the first thing on my dash when I open my phone ig lol.  Its not an INSTANT soft block, but it just depends if I need to or not.

People not following my rules ig lol.

2-5 THINGS THAT LEAD ME TO UNFOLLOW / SOFTBLOCK A MUTUAL / SOMEONE I INTERACT WITH

Going off more of comfort levels?  I just unfollow people after a bit if I feel like I might just not vibe with them after following them for a while.  Sometimes we don’t even interact like once even after we followed each other for six months.  Sometimes people don’t click and thats fine.  But if I feel like I am the only one that’s really putting the energy out to reaching out to you and you’re not even returning that mutual energy?  I’m not wasting my resources and just moving else where.

Terfs and homophobes are not welcome here for a reason.  If I find out a mutual is posting shit on dash that’s being like this even remotely towards a friend or even me?  I won’t even waste my energy on talking with them anymore and just block them. I’m nonbinary and I’m tired.  I can’t risk my safety if you feel like my existence is a waste of space lmao.

2-5 REASON YOU DON'T TO FOLLOW (BACK) SOMEONE

Their aesthetic blog is something that can be important if I want to follow you or not, but its not if it looks pretty.  If I see if someones theme is barely readable or its burning my eyes to hell and back?  I don’t bother following back and just move on.  

I don’t follow personals that follow me.  Sorry.

tagged by: Stole it tagging: PUNCHES U

[scripted-downfall]

thoughts on steve harrington ?

My thoughts on Steve are also complicated, and it's a bit of a journey; thus, this might end up being a bit long. (Actually, who am I kidding? All of my ask answers are long... but I'll try to keep it brief-ish.)

Short answer: I, personally, like him, though I can understand why people don't.

Long answer: My journey into the Stranger Things fandom has been a long and complicated one. I watched seasons 1 and 2 with my family when they first came out. Then, we lapsed and didn't watch the show again. Then, season 4 came out and @typicalopposite lured me in with an argument that essentially boiled down to "they introduced a new character named Eddie and he's just like you; watch the show! For me??? (cue digital puppy-dog eyes)", so I rewatched seasons 1 and 2, then watched seasons 3 and 4 for the first time. (It was a mistake, and vol. 2 is responsible for my emotional trauma and therapy bills.)

On the second rewatch, though, I was kinda surprised to see how much I liked Steve. I'm certainly not trying to say he didn't have problems in s1 --- he did, and there might be some qualifications for some (just saying, that photography thing was creepy, and I feel like an AITA post about that situation would come back inconclusive; neither was innocent, and both took it too far), but there are definitely some things that were uncalled for --- but my far-younger self had stored him as being far worse than he was when I rewatched. (Again: not saying he was perfect; just saying that he was far more respectful of Nancy's need to study than I remembered him being, and he had his turn away from being a jerk earlier in the show than I'd thought.)

His storyline is definitely one of evolution --- getting better than his season 1 self --- and I can certainly see why people still don't like him. My thoughts about him in s1 are a mixed-bag, but I definitely had started to like him in season 2. s3!Steve and on? Love his character so much. (The storyline with him, Dustin, Robin, and Erica? Pure cinematic gold.)

In terms of romance... that's complicated. I honestly don't want him to just get shoehorned into a romance that doesn't fit. Purveyors of my blog probably know that I do ship Steddie --- I want Eddie to come back even beyond any shipping matters, but I do think they work in a way that very few other romances that might be set up could --- and I think that, even with their limited screentime, this was set up decently well. However, if Steddie doesn't happen... a) I very much, 100% don't want to see him back with Nancy. And b) sticking him in some random romance would be a crying shame, and a reversal of the canon dialogue, since he'd been talking about how unfulfilling his random hook-ups had been previously. I've many times said that he and Robin are platonic soulmates, and they're awesome together --- I'm specifying platonic here because apparently people ship them together as a romantic couple??? They belong together, but not romantically --- and he's already got his whole found family thing going; I think this is a far better ending than either a random, undeveloped romance or a return to Stancy.

I hope that answers the ask well; I tried to make it thorough, but I might have missed something, so feel free to reach out with any questions! All the best, and thanks for the ask!

[beskar-cowboy]

are you lonesome tonight?

Summary: Deep in New Mexico on an aimless road trip, you meet retired agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels one night in a local bar. (6.9k words) read on ao3 here

Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader 

Warnings: NSFW, smut, angst, smoking, drinking, age gap (difference not specified), oral (f receiving), minimal plot for the western vibes, feelings if you squint, praise AND dirty talk cause it’s Jack Fuckin’ Daniels

Jack doesn’t usually stray away from home like this. It’s not like him to wander, to willingly get lost, in his mind, and now in the desert.

Step away from the job. Go home Whiskey, they had told him, you need to relax.

He is getting old. His back gets sore easily now, aches more often - especially after a mission.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe he does need to stop, slow down, smell the fuckin’ roses for once.

So he heads West. For whatever reason.

He doesn’t know where he’s going - he doesn’t think he ever did, certainly not after losing her… and their unborn child - but now he’s really, purposefully lost, headed towards some unknown, unseen beacon - he’s pulled towards it like a siren song.

Maybe this’ll make him relax.

***

You’re outside Amarillo, you know that for certain. But you can’t remember passing the stateline, out of Texas and into New Mexico.

You know you passed it, you must have, you must be in New Mexico by now but when you think about it really hard you think you might still be in Texas.

It’s flat out here, not a lot of mountains - everything looks the same, it makes driving tedious and tiresome. The green hue of the dashboard clock reads midnight and you think it’s time to pull over for the night.

You come up on a town, the billboard reads San Jon. Bright lights in the distance spell out ‘motel’ and fuck it, thats good enough for you.

The parking lot is lonesome. There’s a bar across the street - it’s too enticing. You think you might as well get something to drink, calm your mind before you tuck in for the night.

The lights are warm inside, dim and inviting - something you weren't expecting in a place like this but you sigh a breath of relief when you sit yourself down at the quiet bar.

Quiet music and even quieter chatter fills the room, you feel out of place but not uncomfortable. You just want one drink, maybe two, then you’ll head up to the motel and pass the fuck out before you start driving again tomorrow. Easy. Simple.

The bartender makes his way over to you, a much older man with white hair, a sweet face. His southern twang is sort of cute when he asks you what you’d like.

“Jack and coke, please.” You smile. He nods politely.

There’s only one other man sitting at the bar, at the complete opposite end of it compared to you. You make brief eye contact with him - he’s handsome, it’s awkward.

He wears an old fashion cowboy hat - tacky, you think. He’s got a dark, strong mustache, deep eyes. He’s pretty.

He smiles at you but you’ve already turned away, far too tired and too easily flustered for… that.

The bartender returns promptly with your drink and you hand him a few bills, really set on only having one drink tonight but he shakes his head.

“Already paid for, sugar.”

Fucking perfect.

You can already feel him moving towards you, already feel the way his words will grate against your ears, send your stomach churning and the superficial attraction you might have felt from one quick glance dissipating completely.

He sits down next to you and the barstool squeaks with age. You visibly cringe.

“Did I come over too fast?” Voice like honey, it’s sickeningly smooth. He’s a sweet talker type, you already know it.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your drink.

He gets comfy in his seat, watching the way your throat bobs with the cold alcohol.

Jack and coke, a funny choice, he thinks to himself. A damn funny coincidence.

“It’s hard - startin’ a pretty conversation with a pretty lady.” He says and you audibly scoff as you down your drink.

Ew, old man’s clearly out of practice.

“And I guess I’m off to a rough start, aren’t I?” He chuckles, enjoying the struggle it seems.

You scoff again, speaking quietly “I’ll say.”

Jack smiles to himself, pleased that he’s managed to entice you enough to weasel out a snarky little comment. He likes this little attitude of yours.

His sharp tongue flicks against the inside of his mouth as he shoots out a whistle. You snap your head in his direction, ready to berate him, ready to slap him in his face for whistling at you but he’s turned away towards the other side of the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention.

He’s cocky, too loud, too confident. You hate it - you can feel him overcompensating for something.

You take another swig of your drink as you glance at his side profile, fighting the urge to knock off his stupid fucking cowboy hat that hides so much of his face in a shadow thats too dark for this warm bar.

Cowboy’s got a scar running down the back of his neck, your eyes can’t help but follow it down, down, down until it’s cut off by the leather of his jacket. It’s whiter than the rest of his tanned skin, but it doesn’t look fresh. It looks more like an old wound, white and raised with time.

His head turns back, eyes catching yours and you nearly choke on your drink. Fuck are his eyes deep. He smiles like he notices the slight hitch in your throat, the way your chest heaves on an inhale while you awkwardly swallow down your drink.

“Name’s Jack.” He smiles, something tooth-rotting-ly sweet.

Jack - his butter sweet voice rings in your ears and bubbles in your tummy and leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You chase it with your drink.

You don’t offer him your name in return - he takes it in stride.

“You a long ways from home?” He presses all too casually, his own drink being placed down in front of him.

You don’t answer, you just swirl the drink around in your glass, watching the ice cubes melt with every second that passes. Jack grows awkward, he fidgets in his chair and takes another swig from his shallow glass, letting the alcohol burn on its way down.

“Come on, where ya from, darlin’?”

“Nowhere.” You grumble, nervously twisting in your own chair, letting the squeaking become louder than your own voice.

Maybe he’ll leave you alone if you keep curving him, maybe then he’ll get the message. Men aren’t always so good at that.

The old cowboy laughs with his chest, nothing too loud, just amused - it makes your cheeks hot. He reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He smiles as he opens them, placing one between his lips before looking at you inquisitively, offering you one. You look away.

He takes an exaggeratedly long drag, making a real show of it, “Nowhere,” he repeats, “how poetic of you.”

Smoke spills from between his parted lips and out his nose, it’s all too mesmerizing.

“Like you go around telling strangers where you’re from.” You scoff, keeping your voice low out of disinterest.

The sweet scent of his tobacco warms your chest and - oh fuck off, it’s just the alcohol.

“Jackson, Tennessee.” He smiles, all shiny and proud as he holds his cigarette between two calloused fingers and gripping his drink with the others, taking another swig. You do the same.

You weren’t expecting him to answer, but he could just as well be lying. Men lie, men lie, men lie, he has less to worry about than you, you have to remind yourself. Men lie all the time - it’s easy for them.

“Well, aren't you a long ways from home?” You sneer, a mean smile pulling at those goddamn lips of yours. You mirror his words from before, Jack doesn’t miss the fact that you remembered them.

“Could say the same about yourself.” He smiles, something soft and quiet.

Jack can always tell when someone’s out of place, when they’re unfamiliar with their surroundings, trying to constantly find a way to ground themselves, feel secure, safe, root themselves into something so they don’t blow away from the sheer force of the land. He got way too good at that at Statesma-

No. He’s here to forget that.

You don’t answer him, either way, your lack of an answer is answer enough for the old cowboy. You roll your eyes, taking another swig from your quickly depleting drink.

Jack seems to notice, he calls the bartender over again and you try to tell him no, but he insists that it’s on me, girl.

You sigh, too easily defeated and - embarrassingly - needing another drink. You’ll sleep better with a second, your sleep will be dreamless with a second, you tell yourself.

“Same thing, please.” You ask the bartender quietly, near bashful.

Jack smiles at you while you order, you notice it from the corner of your eye and it makes you tick, makes your leg bounce up and down with unkempt nerves and you wish you could just get up and leave but you really want that second drink now.

You definitely do not want to see how far this will go, how far he’ll push you. No, no, no it’s not that, it’s definitely not that, he’s just some small town, honky tonk, old fucking-

“I know you.” He smiles and your stomach drops, heart pounding.

“What?” You ask, too harsh, too sharp.

Sore spot there - Jack makes a mental note to stay away from whatever that is.

“I said, I know you.” He repeats against his own judgement.

You stare blankly, trying to think of where he could possibly know you from. You’d remember his face if you’d seen it before, you’d remember him.

“Yeah,” He says around a chuckle, cheeks sucking in as he inhales the smoke, shooting it back out through his nose, “I know you, you’re uh, a cowboy.”

You laugh, you laugh so hard you nearly snort out your drink through your nose. You laugh so hard even the bartender turns his head. Jack can tell it's not friendly, it's a laugh that's meant to ward off strangers, meant to belittle him, make fun.

Too bad he likes it.

He knows you mean to shoot daggers right through him and scare him away but stupid old Jack thinks he’s never heard a sound so sweet.

“A cowboy?” You repeat through a laugh, your nerves dissipating.

His way of talking makes your stomach get all fluttery, makes your face hot and your cheeks start to go numb. Or maybe it's the alcohol, probably the alcohol.

“Yup,” he nods, “A cowboy indeed. A bandit, some might say.”

You laugh again and he smiles back. He’s not entirely wrong.

You have your reasons for running into the desert. You have your own people you hide from, your own things you hunt for.

There is a reason you’re out here, all too far from home, lost in the desert, purposefully losing yourself - things you’re trying to forget.

Maybe Jack knows those things too.

His eyes are warm, soft things that stare too deeply into your own. It’s too late at night for those types of looks, he’s treading on dangerous territory and he knows it, you know it.

But the night grows darker and so do your eyes. Eventually you stop pushing him away as your drink settles in your gut - something like liquid courage burns through you and makes you feel bright and stupid and giddy despite the creeping darkness.

“A bandit.” You repeat, laughing and shaking your head.

Jack’s cigarette smoke has turned sweet, enticing and warm. Everything about him is warm, how can a stranger be so warm? You feel like you’re subconsciously leaning into him - a moth to the flame. Helpless, lost, in need of some sort of waypoint and he’s the brightest thing in the sky with those white fucking teeth of his.

So you let him talk and damn that mouth of his, you don’t think this man ever shuts up. He talks a big game, an obvious flirt - a bad one - but he tries nonetheless and it makes you nervous, like a dog before a storm.

You guess he can’t be all that bad if he’s got you so silently flustered, face hot and thighs aimlessly rubbing against the other. Something is building inside and it scares you.  

He’s handsome - that’s indisputable - you recognized it from the moment you saw him from across the bar.

Jack is good looking, way too handsome to be out here in some dingy bar, throwing corny pickup line after corny pickup line at you like he doesn’t have years of practice over you, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“What are you even doing here?” You blurt out, your lips loose and soft - you couldn’t have held in your burning question even if you tried. Jack smiles, admiring his third or fourth glass of dark liquor instead of looking at you.

Why do you look so lonely? Jack thinks.

“My job, they uh, thought it’d be good fer me to… get out of the office.” He says instead.

You hum, understanding and eyeing the way his eyes look somber even though he continuously smiles.

“Their idea of forced retirement I think.” Jack chuckles sadly.

“Retirement?” You say, astonished. How old is this guy?

Jack nods his head. “Retirement comes early in my line of work, sweet pea.”

You pause. Absorbing that information. And the nickname. You wonder what he does, or did, for a living. For some reason you’re afraid to ask.

Your belly flutters - he’s let something loose in you, something you tried to drown long ago but arises simply and stupidly at the use of a term of endearment. You’re not used to this sort of attention.

Not aware you had been staring, Jack shuffles awkwardly in his chair, becoming flustered himself.

“Now, don’t go lookin’ at me like that darlin’.”

“L-Like what?” You scoff, looking back down at your own drink, away from him.

“Like I’m some old man.”

Your heart clenches. Something else does too.

“Are you not?” You poke.

Jack chuckles. “Guess I’m damn well old enough for my back to be hurtin’ like this.” He groans, arching his back, flexing his arms to deepen the stretch.

His biceps pull the fabric of his jacket incredibly tight while the white of his t-shirt rides up over the softness of his gut.

More tanned skin - he’s not incredibly toned, you find yourself not minding that. You think you like it actually, it makes more sense on him, makes more sense that he’s secretly soft.

It’s almost… endearing. Fuck.

You look away quickly, taking another swig of the harsh liquor that hardly burns on its way down anymore.

“You book a room at the motel?” He asks, pointing behind you, in the direction of the motel across the street.

“Not yet.” You answer tentatively, shooting silent daggers through him at his promiscuous question.

It’s his way of asking, and you don’t tell him no. You both acknowledge it.

It goes quiet between the two of you for the first time tonight - other than when he first approached you.

You only notice the music playing softly in the background now - something homey and painfully southern. Jack seems to notice it too.

“Wanna dance?” He asks, smiling. You burn.

Your eyes dart from his to the cigarette pack still laying on the bar. You want one, you want to dance but… but not with him.

That’s what you tell yourself.

The longer the song plays, the more your head feels all loopy. You need a cigarette. It’s been ages since he offered you one - maybe hours - but you sort of just want to take one to get him talking again. You can’t handle this awkward silence.

You don’t want him to leave. You don’t want to bore him - you don’t know why.

So you sneak your hand towards the pack and slide one out, placing it between your lips and lighting it up yourself before giving him back his lighter. You stand from your seat and Jack watches with wide eyes, mindlessly finding the pocket on his leather jacket and dropping the lighter in it - all the while watching you walk away from him.

The smoke burns your throat, stings your eyes but you inhale deeply, welcoming the headrush.

You walk out onto the floor, it’s not a dance floor, but you don’t plan on dancing. You don’t. You don’t.  

But the song comes to you, you let the cigarette dangle between your lips and your arms go up above your head. You sway - you dance and you don’t look at Jack even though you know he’s staring, you know every lonely man in this place is.

Jack stands, slowly approaching you, tentatively, with his tail between his legs in submission, like a sorry old dog. You feel his body near yours before you see it, you think your eyes are closed, maybe it’s just really dark in here.

“Can I?” He asks, one hand skimming your hip, barely touching you. Your flesh burns under his touch - you think you need it.

You nod your head, grabbing his other hand and placing it on your hip.

Jack nearly cradles you to his chest, unafraid of wrapping his arms around you and holding you so fucking close - too close. You feel like you could suffocate.

You wedge your cigarette between two fingers before bringing your own arms around his neck, putting in just as much effort into holding him close.

And you just stay like that for however long you do - holding each other and not saying a word.

It makes sense, for whatever reason. Makes sense to have him holding you like this, his unfamiliar body feeling so fucking good and warm pressed up against yours, holding you in his strong arms, swaying you along with him.

He smells like pine, leather and something burnt, smokey - it gives you a head rush stronger than the fucking cigarette. He smells so good, feels so good - you squish yourself to him, something prickling at your eyes and fuck, aren’t you a sorry sight? Crying in the arms of a stranger.

“Don’t kiss me goodbye.” You whisper. Jack leans in closer to you, nudging his head with yours and you feel his lips ghost along the side of your face, mustache rasping against your soft skin.

“Whatd’ya mean, pretty girl?” He grits, voice gone all deep and dark and quiet. You quiver in his arms, clenching for it already.

“Tomorrow morning… don’t kiss me goodbye, okay?”

Your bodies stop moving and you let your hands fall into his. He seems to have gotten it now - as he rushes you to the door of the bar, out into the cool air of the desert night and towards the motel across the street.

It hits you like a wall, the fresh air. Enough to make the alcohol dissipate in your system and the smoke from your eyes. You drop the stub end of your cigarette onto the asphalt and kill it with the heel of your boot.

Fuck do you want him. Even out here, even with fresh air filtering out the smoky haze. You can see him more clearly now, see him for what he is; a stranger, a man you don’t know - an older man and fuck it you want him. You still want him.

“I’ve never done this before.” You blurt and he turns around, squeezing your hand tight in his, almost in a panic.

“Are you-”

“No, not like that, I mean- I just meant I’ve never slept with someone I… that I just met.” You stumble like a damn fool, trip over your words and you worry you fucked it all up.

You worry he’ll realize he’s too old for you, too tired, too fed up with this fucking life of his and leave you on the side of the highway and when the fuck did you become so hung up on this stranger. You hate it - you decide you hate him. You hate Jack.

But the old cowboy laughs. He laughs and comes up real close to you again and his face shines in the neon light of the motel sign. He’s so close but he doesn’t touch you, not quite.

“Well, that makes you the best of us.” He smiles, eyes all squinty and dark.

“Jack,” You practically purr and he melts on the spot, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

It’s the first time you’ve said his name all night. His face twitches at the way your lips and tongue curl around the four letters, the way you practically breathed it like it was the most natural thing ever. Jack watches you melt as he places his hand on your cheek, as he cups your face in his much larger hand. You go into it too instinctually.

He’s so warm and it’s so cold out here in the desert.

“Sshh, pretty girl,” he purrs back at you, cutting you off with soft mouth sounds and pulling you close. Your breath hitches in your throat as your chests bump. He leans down and nudges his strong nose against your own.

“I’m just teasin’ ya.” He smiles one final time before pressing his lips to yours.

***

Jack kisses you like it’s nothing. Like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done, like he’s done it before, countless times actually. Like he knows the way your lips would glide against his, the way his mustache would grate at your skin but it makes you that much more desperate for him.

Jack kisses you like he knows you, like he’s known you, like is the best thing and the only thing he’s good at and you moan against his mouth - you can’t help it; you’ve never been kissed like this before.

Both of your clothes are scattered throughout his room, the inside of your thighs still burn with the leftover, minute grate of his mustache but it’s somewhat soothed now - with your slick coating both of your lower halves, more spilling out of you as Jack pulls orgasm after orgasm from you with too much ease. He’s too good at this, too good at fucking you.

Like he knows you.

“Jack-” You moan, voice broken and hoarse and punched out of you by his cock in your belly.

He’s got you on your knees, face down, smushed in the pillows as he plows into you from behind, hands warm and soft and strong and bruising on your hips, pulling you into him again and again as you wail helplessly into the muffling fabric.

“Fuck thats- that’s so good.” You cry, hands fisting the sheets, desperate to anchor yourself to something.

Jack hums something content, proud. He’s been giving it to you like this for an hour now, maybe more, you don’t know anymore. Everything’s begun to blend together except the harsh, unforgiving spearing of his thick cock in your slick, velvety heat.

He had begged for it, you told him he didn’t have to, didn’t have to go down on you because guys didn’t always like that but he asked so nicely. And who were you to deny this old cowboy of a good meal anyways?

He wanted it, wanted it so bad and he watched the way you swallowed his fat fingers, the way you cried and arched into him, swivelling your hips to let him fuck you better and he licked up everything you gave him - pleading with you for another one, another orgasm.

“Perfect lil’pussy, so fucking good - such a good girl, lettin’ me have you like this,” he had praised you and you weeped as his tongue lapped through your folds, as he properly ate you, drank from you like he was fucking starving.

His twang had gotten thicker, his voice dropping multiple octaves and it did nothing but make you thirstier for him - bled you dry like the surrounding desert.

Jack pummels into you without relent, body bending over yours to fuck down into you and you sob helplessly into the pillow, fingers going pale from how desperately you try to latch onto something, anything.

You scramble underneath him but he pins you down with the sheer force of him and sweet words and you melt back into place, desperate for him to call you a good girl one more time, please Jack, I’ll be so good I-I promise, please.

***

You weren’t expecting anything - not from him, not from the situation. He could’ve just finished on your stomach, on your back, your ass, inside of you for all you care - rolled over, reached for his cigarette pack and that be it. You would have gotten up, got dressed, and gone downstairs to get your own room. That’s what you were planning on doing.

But Jack didn’t cum, maybe he wasn’t done with you quite yet.

He lit up a cigarette, took one long drag, chest expanding erratically, still trying to catch his breath, stretching scratched up ribs as he offered you a shower.

He tells you he’ll join you in a second, probably just wants to finish his cigarette but you momentarily think he’ll get up and leave you alone to find his own room. Either way, it makes no real difference to you - you head for the shower.

You keep the lights off, not wanting them to blind you, wake you up from this dream state. The moonlight comes in through the small window in the shower, you decide it’s enough for you.

You turn the water coolish, enough to calm down a bit but not too much to freeze. You step in and let it cool and soothe your sex hot skin.

You wash away the mess between your legs, most of it your own slick and maybe Jack’s saliva, buried deep inside of you still from how thoroughly he had fucked you, pushing it deeper and deeper. You whine a little at the thought.

The bathroom door creaks and Jack smiles at the sight - you, standing underneath the steady stream, having not bothered to draw the curtain - you left it open for him.

You feel different now, almost embarrassed at him observing you like this even though he had just stared into the depths of your gaping cunt for the past hour or so.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He says all suave, like how he had spoken back in that quiet bar.

“Hi.” You squeak back, feeling so unlike yourself, so not brave like you had been earlier.

You think he’s the gorgeous one. Sweat damp hair, curling around the frame of his face - flushed cheeks, tanned, marvelous skin. You can see his scars more clearly now, see how they wrap around so much of his skin, paler in comparison to his golden body.  

Early retirement, he had said. What did that mean, what did he do?

His cock hangs between his strong thighs, below his thin waist. He’s still hard. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight.

You catch his eyes, they’re dark, still hungry and starved and you back up to make room for him in the modestly sized shower. There’s enough room for two, but he still comes to be pressed right up against you.

He’s quiet - you both are as you just sort of stare at the other. You don’t know what time it is, the night outside has gone pitch black and you’ve lost any sense of time, almost forgotten what state you’re in. Was it Texas or New Mexico? Maybe you made it out to Nevada...

Jack’s fingers find your waist, just resting there, trailing tentatively - like he’s checking that this is okay, that you’re comfortable even after fucking you into the matress for the past couple of hours.

You hum, appreciative of the cool water in contrast with his large, warm, southbound hand.

His fingers glide through your glossy folds, your leftover arousal clear and distinct from the water - it’s thick, slippery, Jack can smell it seeping from you.

You arch into his touch willingly, leaning back against the cool tiles of the shower, gasping at the sting and canting your hips up into his touch, presenting yourself to him.

Jack smiles, wicked, evil. You’ve become so easy, open for him. He’s more than appreciative, less than deserving.

He doesn’t know what he did to make you bend to his will like this, he knows he’s got experience, he knows he’s got years on you but why did he deserve this, why? What did he do?

Jack doesn’t believe in karma, never has, never will. But he touches you like he’s known your body, and you both gasp and breathe into the other's mouth, sharing your oxygen amongst the cool pitter patter of the shower and you begin to fall apart on his fingers again.

He glides two fingers into your sore cunt, stuffing you full of him again and you moan something broken, sucking in his fingers greedily and Jack groans at the snug fit and Christ, how had he managed to fit his cock in there, how did you take him over and over again? Two fingers feels like too much for you yet you whine and buck into it.

Jack grinds his fingers into you, pleading with you to cum, cum fer me, just like this, sweet girl. Can you do that fer me? Can you let me feel it?

“Yeah, Jack- fuck.”

It’s so much. His fingers are thick, wide things and you can feel how he stretches you with them, scissors them to make room for his cock which bobs and twitches against your thigh. He’s so fucking hard, you’re desperate to feel him inside you again, you need it you need it you need it-  

“N-Need it, please.” You whisper, head foggy and glazed over with arousal, with want for this man.

Your nails dig into his biceps, both of them flexed hard - one hand digging around in your cunt, carving you out while the other keeps you steady, tucked under your arm and wrapped around your back, pressing you between him and the wall. You’re cornered, you’re done for.

“Jack-”

“That’s it, baby, that’s it.” He coos, voice gone soft and drippy like honey and you’re gone.

You squeeze his fingers tight, suffocate them, clenching around him like you’ve known nothing else and you cum on his fingers, soaking him and collapsing forward as you tremble in his embrace.

Jack leans back slightly, shifting his weight to accept yours. Your arms curl in between your bodies, as if shielding yourself and his go down, along your body to cage you against him, hands coming down to grope your ass.

He pulls at the soft, pliable flesh, growling in your ear as you still come down from your high. With sticky fingers, his hand comes down onto your ass, striking the flesh and feeling it jiggle back into place. You jolt into him, crying out at the harsh sting and Jack’s gone feral, needing to consume you again.

“Get back into bed.” He orders.

“Jack I’m still, I’m-” Drenched, soaking from the shower.

“I don’t care, girl,” He growls, teeth nipping at your ear lobe. “I want you wet.”

You laugh breathlessly, overwhelmed by his need for you yet needing to satisfy your own.

You lazily kiss at his neck before pulling yourself from his arms, dripping as you step out of the shower and onto the tile floor of the bathroom. You look back at him to find him watching you with careful eyes, surveying your every move. You turn back and head for the bed.

Tile turns to old carpet, you cringe as you soak it with each step. You launch yourself onto the bed, laying on your back - your cool skin pebbles in contrast to the warm desert air of the motel room.

Jack emerges from the doorway, body strong, lean but soft and pudgy - he looks like a fucking statue and you nearly lose your breath.

He stalks to the side of the bed, sitting down near your head. His broad shoulders and back are to you but he turns - hand coming to cradle your cheek as he looks at you over his shoulder. It’s far too tender of a look for what he’s about to ask of you.

“Will you let me try somethin’?”

“Yeah, Jack.” You say with such trust in your voice - a trust he doesn’t deserve.

Like you’ve known him, like you’ve been lovers.

Reaching for his worn jeans, Jack leans down and pulls a handle from the waist band, something you hadn’t noticed till now, something dark and long.

He keeps pulling - a whip, lasso, something like that.

Your body responds immediately, hips arching into nothing and goosebumps erupting across your flesh at the mere suggestion.

Jack’s no idiot - he sees the way your eyes go dark - swallowed up by the eclipse of your blown out pupils. He sees it, can fucking smell it leaking from you from where he stands.

“Yeah?” He asks again, making sure.

You nod with doe eyes.

Jack climbs back on top of the messy bed, coming near to your body and you need him, need him to use you. “Let me hear ya say it, sweet girl.”

“I want it, please.” You say too quickly and he smiles.

He yanks your arms above your head, stretching you all nice and long for him. He takes your hands in his and makes you hold onto the bar of the old bed frame - you keep them there. He rounds up the lasso in his hands and you whine, back arching into his body which looms wide and strong over yours, waiting, desperate and wanting.

Jack traces the strong rope across your body, along your stomach and you curl into it, writhing as it leaves a trail of goosebumps, raised and tender flesh in its wake.

“W-Where’d you get it?” You whisper again, asking in a voice so small and curious it makes his cock twitch. Jack smiles, pleased.

“Souvenir from work.”  

Jack suddenly whips the lasso and you gasp in shock as it burns like fire across skin - your wrists bound in place, to the bed frame with almost no effort on his part.

Jack smiles, pleased with his handiwork.

He wants to know you like he knows the back of his hand.

***

Legs bent up high, knees pressing into your breasts, you’ve been thoroughly fucked numb. But Jack is relentless.

You’re wet and sticky and tired from it all, strung out thin and exposed like a live wire, burnt raw and tender. You can take no more, you’re not sure Jack can either - but neither of you stop, neither of you want to.

He’s removed the lasso from your wrists, having been desperate to feel you cling to him, scratch him up and remind him that he’s real, that this is real.

Jack’s sweet to you near the end, when he’s cum two or three times and you six or eight - you don’t know anymore, you’ve lost track of everything.

He’s so sweet and tender and just fucking kind to you. Lips pressed tightly to your skin, mustache rasping against your skin, Jack whispers your praises like he’s scared someone will come and rip him from you, like he’ll never see you again - you try not to think about it.

Try not to think about how sentimental you’ve become over this old cowboy in mere hours. It’s embarrassing. But you find it hard to care when he’s fucked you dumb like this.

You’re too sweet to me girl, too fuckin’ sweet I can’t- I can’t-

You’re doin’ so good, so good baby I- Jesus fuck don’t squeeze me like that you’ll make me fuckin’ cum and this- this can’t be over, not yet

Jack-

Just a lil longer, just let me fuck you a lil longer, okay?

T-Too much

Ssshh, I know you can take it. Know you can take it like a big girl.

I’ll eat you out as long as you like, I’ll make it so fuckin’ good for you, just- just let me fuck you, please

He’s babbling, long past the point of coherence - Jack Daniels is lost in your glossy, sticky cunt.

The hotel room is humid, it smells like sweat and sex and cum and something far too sweet to be growing between the two of you - two strangers.

But Jack keeps going. You go with it - you follow him to the end.

You keep going until something looms over the horizon, something threatening to spill over. Like some sort of feeling, emotion, revelation about the two of you, your two old souls or maybe it was just the fucking sun painting the lonely desert in all its glory but Jack cums inside of you one final time and you both collapse onto one another.

You’re wet, sticky from sweat and slick alike. Your limbs rendered useless and numb but you can feel his weight on top of you, keeping you in check like a paperweight.

The lobby downstairs has long since closed, there’s no use in you leaving now.

So you fall asleep with Jack in your arms, cradled to your chest as he presses whispers of praises and kisses into your delicate, bruised flesh. He presses them in between your breasts so that maybe it seeps into something tender and fleshy and bloody like your heart.

***

The sun is harsh, brutal beating down on you and Jack in the middle of the bar’s parking lot. The bartender from last night is opening up for the day, he spares you two a sideways glance before disappearing behind the blackness of the door.

“Where ya headed now, girl?” Jack asks, shades covering his eyes, hat in his hands. He fiddles with it, toys with the worn and loved rim. He’s nervous.

He wanted to fuck you again when the sun rose up.

Your skin glowed, you looked so soft, so fucking pliable to his rough hands and he wanted to bite, suck, kiss, devour you. He wanted to carve himself into you and never fucking leave that bed.

But you rolled into him, a sleep heavy sigh pushed out of your nose and you pushed your face into his neck - unconsciously breathing him in. Jack felt you relax against his body, settling just that much further into sleep, trusting him to hold you through it.

He nearly choked on the thought, nearly died right there from how fucking precious you are.

Jack decided against fucking you again, no matter how soft and tender he would have made it for you no matter how bad he wanted to feel you wrapped all snug and warm around him one last time.

Jack decided to watch you sleep until you blink those big eyes open again and giggle when you find him staring.

“Morning, girl.”

You laughed, rolling onto the other side of the bed and sitting up. Jack admired the naked expanse of your back. You turned to look back at him, your profile lit up by the morning sun while Jack admired the expanse of you.

You looked like some sort of angel - naked and glowing.  

“Good morning, Jack.”

You sigh, looking off into the distance, down the infinite highway, away from him, that dark golden gaze.

“Nevada.” You exhale. That’s broad enough of an answer, right?

Jack smirks, nodding his head. “California after, I’m guessin’?”

Damn, he’s good. Or maybe you’re just obvious. Maybe you’re just exactly the type of girl he knows, the type of girl that would run away to the West, to fucking California like it meant anything, like it would reveal something to you. You know better, so does Jack.

He reaches for something in the pocket of his jeans, a folded paper from the motel room. He hands it to you, your fingers touch and it jolts you. Jack seems to feel it too.

“I’ll be seein’ ya, pretty girl.” He smiles before haphazardly tossing his old cowboy hat onto your head. You grip it tightly, not wanting it to fall.

“Hey- your hat!” You call after him but he’s already nearing the side of the highway, preparing to cross.

Jack looks back at you and smiles, shrugging. “Give it back to me in Cali.” He blows you an exaggerated kiss and your request from last night burns deep in your chest like leftover cigarette smoke - or a hangover.

Jack walks back towards the backside of the motel and you lock yourself into your car before you can watch him walk away more than you already have.

The old hat smells like him, you can still feel the residual heat from his hands on the rim and something prickles in your eyes. Damn desert dust.

You sit behind the wheel, hands carefully unfolding the scrap paper he had given you.

In beautiful cursive reads;

See you in California sweet pea,

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels

You laugh. You laugh out loud to yourself in your car, by your lonesome in the middle of a deserted parking lot in the middle of fucking New Mexico.

How had he known that you were going to California, when had he written this? You had just told him where you were going.

You laugh some more, wiping your eyes. You tuck the note into the pocket of your jeans, starting your car.

You head down the highway in silence, smiling to yourself as you head East.

taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl​

[dp-marvel94]

Nightmare or Sweet Dream

Summary: “The GIW… the GIW said primate research.” Jack says quietly, too quietly “They didn’t… didn’t specify non-human primate.” The words fall heavy, sinking into Maddie’s heart like a knife. “It’s not a chimpanzee or rhesus monkey, is it?” For Ectober Day 24

Notes: Based on this post. @magicalmonsterhero submitted a post, asking about an au where Vlad‘s (and/or Danny’s) powers were not the result of a portal accident. I wrote a ficlet about "the happy version of Danny being an intentional experiment" but decided to make it into an actual story for Ectober 24, Prompt Nightmare/Sweet Dream 

Word count: 6,230

Also on A03 and Fanfiction.net

A young couple sits at their kitchen table, talking in hushed voices while their toddler daughter plays in the living room. 

“What are we going to do?” Maddie feels like crying, clutching the foreclosure notice in her hands. 

Her husband looks over at their little girl. He swallows. “We’ll...we’ll figure something out.”

The woman has rarely seen the man this somber, the distress barely below the surface. He’s trying to stay calm for her, for their child but…. Maddie knows he doesn’t believe it. She can feel it like the tiredness she’s felt in her bones for years, since both the best and the worst day of her life. She looks at the stack of medical bills and….

The blood. The doctor and nurses shouting. They’re pushing a crying Jack out of the room. And...where’s her baby girl?

It was a nightmare and this… This is a nightmare.

“We need a miracle.” Maddie says. And she doesn’t believe in miracles. But maybe... they can get regular jobs and save up money and…

The doorbell suddenly rings. Jack blinks, turning. “Who’s that?”

Maddie stands up, opening the door. And there are three men in white suits, standing across the threshold.

The woman gapes for a long moment before collecting her wits. After a flash of a badge, she invites the agents inside.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. We have a proposition for you.” One of the agents offers. 

After briefly excusing herself to take Jazz upstairs for a nap, Maddie returns. The scientists and agents talk and… Maddie’s eyes bulge. “You’re offering… that much money?”

She hands the paper to Jack. “Holy-”

“Yes. If you’ll accept the project. As my colleague explained, the head scientist withdrew his team at the last minute. We need your expertise to salvage this research.”

Maddie raises an eyebrow. “Which is?” 

“Classified.” The agent clams up, lip pursed in a thin line.

The scientists look at each other. Jack frowns. “Classified? Agents, we can’t sign on unless we know what we’re doing.”

“World changing research is what you’ll be doing.” The man to the left, the senior agent, argues. He leans forward. “I’ll be straight with you. Years of research and millions of dollars already invested are at stake if we don’t act quickly. The previous team really did us a disservice by dropping the project like this. You will be more than well compensated for your contribution. You’ll be making giant leaps forward in understanding ghosts and in human health. But we need your answer.”

Jack and Maddie are unsure, a silent conversation passing between the two. They argue back and forth with the agents, pressing for more until…

The head agent removes his glasses. “Alright. I really should not be telling you this before you sign the NDAs but… this research… we’ve been trying to achieve the hybridization of ectoplasm with living cells in primates.”

Maddie blinks, shocked. “Ectoplasm with…”

The man nods. “Yes, the combination of living tissue and ghostly powers. A hybrid organic being that will be able to produce and regulate its own ectoplasm. We’ll be able to study ghosts and their abilities in ways we haven’t even dreamed of but…” He tapped the paper. “We need you to sign tonight.”

Jack and Maddie look at each other, another silent conversation. “Just...give us five minutes?” The man asks.

The couple debate. “We need the money.” Jack sighs, eyes wide and desperate.

“But they’re not telling us something.” Maddie frowns, pointing.”

“It’s because of the NDAs. Right?” Her husband rubs his head.  “And do you blame them? If what he said is true...this will change the world.”

For just a moment, Maddie is starry eyed. “And to be a part of that….” The doubts remain. “But…”

“We always wanted to change the world. And…” Jack glances to the door. “With the medical bills and the foreclosure...we need the money or we’ll be on the street.”

“No we-” Maddie’s heart twists as the words die on her tongue. She wants to deny it but... Jazz. They need to be practical. They need...they need this money. Something in her still says this is a bad idea. But the mother bits her lip. “For Jazz?”

“For Jazz.” Jack agrees.

The couple sign NDAs and accept the project. Late that night, the agents bring in the equipment and... 

“What is that?” Maddie points at a metal and glass chamber, the inside swirling with ectoplasm and water.

“An artificial womb.” Answers one of the agents.

Jack blinks, stunned. “An artificial womb?”

The head agent nods and Maddie frowns, asking. “And what’s it for exactly?”

“Your job…” The agents glances from the incubator. “is to take care of the specimen and ensure it survives until it’s viable outside of the artificial womb.”

“The…. specimen?” The male Fenton asks. “And… until it’s viable? How long is that?”

“How many weeks of gestation is it at now?” The other scientist asks.

The agent remains straight faced as he hands them thick folders of papers. “All the necessary information is here.” He pulls a card out of his pocket, placing it in the folder. “Contact the agency if you require anything else.”

Without answering any more questions, the agents leave. Maddie’s stomach flops, filled with dread. Something about that was-

“Will you look at that?” Jack cut off her thought.

The woman turned to see him peering into the incubator and pointing at something. Maddie leans closer, looking. “Is that...the embryo?”

“I think so.” He replies. “It’s tiny.”

The woman hums in agreement, observing. There, implanted to the back wall of the incubator, is a pea-sized mass. Maddie squints as she tries to make out details. She can barely see but it’s C shaped, with visible neural tube and little nobs that should develop into the limbs.

“I wonder what week it’s at?” Jack questions.

Maddie checks the research notes and she frowns. “Jack, a lot of this is blacked out.” There are huge blocks of text that are missing or have been crossed out. She flips a page. “Six weeks, I think.” Her husband nods. “It’s going to take a while to sort this out. There’s so much missing.”

Jack gives her an encouraging patt on the back. “We can do it. We’ve got this, Madds.”

Maddie isn’t so sure. It’s...odd, the lack of information. And why did the GIW pick them? They aren’t experts in fetal development. Then again… this seemed to be a last minute placement. And they could learn but still...

Jack and Maddie do their jobs, checking the vitals, the nutrients, the ectoplasm levels. The two scientists take a crash course in primate fetal development. They watch and the embryo grows. It really is fascinating to see up close, Maddie thinks. But still…. Weeks pass, a month. The embryo is at 10 weeks and it’s almost six times larger than when the GIW delivered it. The nobs have developed into small limbs, tiny...legs and arms. It has eyes now, though closed. There are nostrils. And growing dread pools in the scientist’s gut. In the past weeks, they’ve looked at hundreds of pictures of embryos and fetuses, both those of various primates and of humans. The notes never specify what kind of primate this is and there’s far more research into human fetal development than the other options. The fetus in the incubator looks…strangely familiar. But…the GIW did say primate research so this must be some kind of monkey, not.... That. It couldn’t be-

Maddie cuts off the thought before she can let it take hold. But still, a pebble of anxiety is rooted in her insides.

The mother goes back upstairs to feed her daughter lunch and play with her. Jazz is adorable, sitting in her high chair. She makes a mess eating her lunch and Maddie has to clean her off. After, Jazzy plays with her baby doll in the living room. She mutters babble to it and Maddie smiles. But… something in her starts to ache.

“Here comes the space ship.” Maddie coes. She’s sitting at the kitchen table, a little boy with black hair and blue eyes in the high chair beside her.

The boy opens his mouth, taking a bite. For just a moment, his face screws up with displeasure. Then he blinks. “More!” He sticks out little hands.

Maddie chuckles. “You like it, don’t you?”

The toddler waves his arms. “More!”

The mother oligies, offering another spoonful of cereal.

The little boy makes a happy squeal, joking at his tray in his excitement. The bowl spills, thick white cereal spilling on his shirt. He looks down. “Uh oh.”

Maddie wipes his shirt with a napkin. She lifts the half full bowl from the tray.

“Mommy!” The toddler let out a cry of protest.

The woman’s heart swells with love. “I’m not taking it away, Danny. I’m just going to hold it. See?” She moves the bowl up and down in the air. “Now open up.”

Danny opens his mouth and his mother feeds him another bite, just as a clock chimes behind her.

Maddie wakes up from the sweet dream with tears pooling in her eyes. She wipes them away and gets up to wake up Jazz.

Jack and Maddie go down to the lab again. More watching the specimen, more notetaking, more research. And the scientists are getting attached. They’re invested. Maddie had always had a habitat of talking aloud when working and she still does, now addressing the incubator when her husband isn’t present. Jack plays music and rambles. It’s lively and exciting, watching and learning. The subject seems to be growing properly and it appears to be accepting the ectoplasm. It glows faintly in the dark. The scans show a mass of ectoplasm, concentrated in the center of the chest. That dream… the hybridization of a living creature and ectoplasm might in fact come to fruition.

But still dread grows. The specimen is at 12 weeks, three months development and still growing. Its neck is clearly defined, small digits visible. And it’s hard to tell but…

“It’s male.” Maddie comments, after comparing the view to the naked eye with the magnified pictures they’d managed to take.

Jack looks as well, agreeing with the assessment. For some reason, the knowledge makes Maddie’s heart clinched. It’s male. A boy, part of her says.

“No you don’t, little mister.” Maddie tries to sound stern but she chuckles as she scoops up the still damp toddler trying to run past her. “We still have to put your pjs on, silly. Then a bedtime story.”

The little boy blinks. Then he asks. “Spaceship pjs?”

“Yes.” His mother nods. “Let’s put those on.”

The woman closes the door and puts the child down. She pulls his clothes out of the drawers. 

Danny holds up his hands. “By myself.” He demands.

Maddie obliges. Her son gets about halfway through before he needs help. The woman finishes adjusting the bedshirt. “There.” She picks him up. “Let’s go see Daddy and Jazzy.”

The fetus continues growing. And by the time the specimen is at 3 and half months gestation… the tiny fingers and toes, the shape of the head, that surprisingly human face…. it’s obviously-

No. It can’t be… it’s obviously a rhesus monkey or a chimpanzee. Not-Maddie pushes the thoughts away but at the same time…

Maddie is sitting on a park bench, watching two kids on the playground. Something purple and starry hovers at the edge of her version but she doesn’t worry about it.

“Danny! Wait up!” A six year old Jazz calls after her brother. She tries to pick him up to put him on the baby swing but can’t lift high enough. “Mommy!”

Maddie stands up, going to push both her kids on the swings.

Again, Maddie wakes to tears. But she pushes that pain away, faced with other things. As the weeks pass, the fetus grows, tiny hairs appearing on its head. The form is much more obvious. The dreams continue.

At the beach. There’s Danny, playing at the edge of the surf. Sometimes his hair is black and sometimes it’s white.

The dread and fear grow, with the attachment. And… Maddie and Jack do more research on fetal development. 

Maddie is walking a five year old Danny to the bus stop. She looks down and… her heart stops. Her son is gone. “Danny!” She calls.

“Mommy!”

She whips around. He’s running up to her. His eyes flash green.

Jack and Maddie compare notes, reading every textbook and article they can get their hands on. And….

Something’s floating in their backyard. White hair, black suit, shining like a star. Neon green energy wafts around the hands. The head tilts towards the starry sky.

Maddie...should be scared. She should be startled but… “Sweetie! It’s time for bed.” She calls.

The figure turns around. The neon green eyes fix on her and he’s grinning. The ghost...the boy lowers in the air, just inches above the ground. His hands glow blue for a moment and… there’s a rose, made of ice. He holds it out to her. 

“For me?” Maddie smiles.

The boy nods. The mother blinks and he has black hair and blue eyes. He stands on his tip toes to give her a kiss on the check. “Goodnight, Mom.”

Maddie gives her son a goodnight kiss in return. “Goodnight, Danny.”

Maddie wakes up, breath heaving and tears on her face again. Her heart aches, still filled with love and warmth as the face flashes in her mind again. That smiling face from all those dreams or… are they nightmares? They’re sweet, so sweet. And that boy... Maddie loves him so much. So much that it hurts to wake up. It must be a nightmare. She must be damned, cursed with visions of what can’t be. This, having another child, a son, will never happen. After almost dying giving birth to Jazz, she physically can’t get pregnant again. She can’t have a little boy of her own flesh and blood. She and Jack had wanted two kids. They’d talked about adoption but with how expensive and time consuming it is, with everything else happening in their lives, it's impossible.

Back to the lab, to the small ghost hybrid. Something is tickling in Maddie’s mind as she watches. The fetus is about the size of a pear. The small arms move, fingers brushing the face. The tiny mouth opens. The glow flickers brighter for just a second and there's a flash of neon green as the eyes blink. Maddie drops what she’s doing and practically runs up the stairs, feeling queasy with guilt.

“What is it, Madds?” Jack asks, from where he’s feeding Jazz.

The woman’s eyes land on her daughter and shame swells in her insides. “We can talk about it later.” She says, not wanting to upset the little girl.

The man doesn’t argue, even as his eyes flicker to the door of the lab. A meaningful look passes over his face and… Maddie is sure they’re thinking the same thing.

But still, she tries not to think about it, about the possibility. When Jazz is napping, she digs through the research notes. There must be something! Something to disprove this cursed thought but… nothing. Nothing! Nothing.

Maddie is shaking when she and Jack go down to the lab after putting Jazz to bed. Both scientists are silent for a long time. Both turn, studying the incubator and its occupant. Their eyes meet again and the woman suddenly feels like throwing up, sickened by the realization.

“The GIW… the GIW said primate research.” Jack says quietly, too quietly “They didn’t… didn’t specify non-human primate.” The words fall heavy, sinking into Maddie’s heart like a knife. “It’s not a chimpanzee or rhesus monkey, is it?”

Maddie covers her mouth. “It’s…it’s a human.” She can barely force out the words. “That’s a human fetus.” She leans forward, feeling nauseous. “A human-ghost hybrid. We’re...we’ve been growing a human-ghost hybrid in our lab!”

Maddie feels disgusted with herself and she can see it on Jack’s face; he feels the same.

“We should have seen this earlier.” Jack curses. “All that secrecy. The agents wouldn’t answer our questions.”

“All those gaps in the research notes. The huge wad of money they pushed on us, if we’d hurry up and make a decision.” The woman’s face is red, anger and guilt warring. “Those f-king NDAs!”

There’s anger and screaming. Disgust at themselves, at the GIW for doing this. But...

“It’s... part ghost.” Maddie paces, rationalizing. “Ghosts are monsters. They can’t...they can’t feel or rationalize. They’re...less than animals.” She argues, the words sounding false on her tongue.

“It’s part human too.” Jack argues pointedly. “And we don’t experiment on humans, Maddie!” He balls his fist. “It’s wrong. This is wrong! If it was actually an animal, then maybe but…. This is a human! You don’t experiment on human beings!”

The wind is knocked out of the woman. She agrees. She agrees completely. You don’t experiment on humans. Period. But… “It’s...not a human being.” Maddie’s voice wavers, feeling tears collecting. “It’s..it’s just a fetus.” She’s flailing, grasping for a rationale. For empty words to justify what they’d been doing. “It’s just a fetus.”

“For now.” The man points out sharply.

For now…. The tears spill. For now, it’s a fetus but… But… it will grow. And months from now, they’ll be a baby. A human, at least partly, baby and-

“We need to pull out. We can’t be a part of this.” Jack interrupts.

“They’ll just give the project to someone else.” Maddie mumbles, looking down.

“So what?! We do nothing! I can’t… I won’t keep doing this.” He’s angry, more determined than Maddie’s ever seen him.

“I know!” The other scientist blurts out, her own anger flickering. “I know that! I don’t want to be a part of this either. But we can’t…. we can’t…. just give him..” She swallows, stumbling over the slip up. “…it to some other scientists.”

Maddie can’t help remembering when she’d been four and a half months pregnant with Jazz. That’s when they’d gotten a sonogram and figured out they were having a little girl. She remembers Jazz as a newborn, all pink cheeks and grasping hands and screaming her little lungs out. And Maddie imagines a baby boy, with little tufts of black hair and blue eyes, crying on their lab tables. A little boy, poked and prodded by needles. In cages. Experimented on. A part human lab rat.

“That…that wouldn’t be a life for anyone.” Maddie chokes on the words. Her heart aches, torn between two images. A human child and the flickering, ethereal form of a ghost. “Not…not even something that’s half ghost.” 

“We could….” Jack’s voice is so quiet, so pained. “We could make sure it doesn’t…survive long enough for that.”

Maddie looks up, blinking in surprise before her mind catches up with the meaning. Then she understands and….the man’s thoughts are absolutely clear. And she hates them.

“We can stage… an accident.” The other scientist continues. “Tell the GIW the subject unfortunately didn’t survive.”

Maddie hates it. She hates it so much. “They’ll just try again.” She tries to argue.

“But not with us.” Jack’s face is hard and she knows he’s right. The GIW wouldn’t involve them again. They’d get someone else and she and Jack wouldn’t have to be a part of this. But-

“Okay. We’ll…we’ll do it.” Maddie abhors herself for saying the words.

Jack and Maddie plan in secret. They’ll cut the power to the incubator. All it will take is a few minutes and the fetus will die without oxygen being delivered to the living cells. They’ll lie, make up a story about the backup generator failing. 

But Maddie’s guilt is still overwhelming. Earlier, she’d thought that almost dying in childbirth, that almost losing the house, that dreaming of having another child when it was impossible was a nightmare. But this. This is a nightmare. She wishes the GIW had never contacted them, that she and Jack had never agreed to this project. She wishes...she wishes they were still working in ignorance. 

The room is dark. There’s a clock ticking somewhere. Something’s glowing in the corner of the cage. Maddie approaches. It’s a ghost, obviously. The figure is black and wispy, with the lower body curled into a tail.

The woman’s heart pounds in her chest. There’s…. a sound. She shivers. Someone’s crying. Another step and…

The white-haired head whips up, teary green boring into her from the face of a young teenager. 

“Please, let...let me go.” A male voice begs.

Maddie is frozen, fear, dread, and sorrow creating an ugly mix in her heart.

The ghost floats forward, gripping the bars. “Please. I didn’t… I didn’t do anything wrong. Just...just let me go.”

The scientist trembles. That face...that voice, she recognizes-

“Please.” Tears run down his face. “I just wanna go home. I wanna see my Mom and Dad. Please!”

Maddie wakes up still shaking. The guilt is eating her alive. They need… they need to put a stop to this. They will put a stop to this. Because she can’t..she can’t keep going. She can’t face the product of their science. She can’t face the possibility of subjecting a thinking and feeling being to a life of pain and experimentation. If something that’s part ghost can even live.

The woman studders. Is that even a question? And does… does it matter? If there’s even a chance that a ghostly hybrid can think and feel like a human, that they can grow and learn and love and-

The possibilities are driving her mad. But they have to do this. They have to! (But will this even do anything? The GIW will just try again. They’ll get their hybrid and she and Jack will have just stood by, knowing that they were experimenting on people. They’ll just stand by as a different fetus, a different baby, a different child is brought into the world, just to suffer).

Maddie sleeps again, this time with neither nightmares, nor sweet dreams. Instead, her heart is heavy, at war with itself. The guilt and the grief. The weight of what they’ve done and what they could do, of what is and what might be. 

Jack and Maddie send Jazz to daycare for the day and they go down to the lab. They stand in front of the incubator, going over the plan one last time. Tentatively, with shaking hands, Maddie grabs the plug to the artificial womb. With one pull, one yank, she will end this. One small motion and this will be over, before it really begins.

Almost without thinking, she turns to look one last time. The fetus is clearly visible, floating in the synthetic amniotic fluid-ectoplasm mix. Tiny legs kick. And Maddie’s mind flashes without her permission to Jazz’s sonogram pictures. Remembering the joy of feeling her little girl kick for the first time. In the incubator, just formed eyes drift open and…. they’re blue. A spark of ectoplasm flickers. And the eyes are green, an oh so familiar green and…

“I can’t… I can’t do this.” The plug drops out of Maddie’s trembling hands. “Jack. I…I can’t.”

There’s a pause. The woman can feel the man’s eyes on her. His gentle hand appears on her shoulder. “It’s alright, Mads. I’ll do it.” Jack bends, picking up the plug.

The other scientist’s eyes widen. “No! We can’t…we can’t do this!”

He looks at her, eyes sad and pitying. “We talked about this. We...we have to.”

Maddie shakes her head, tears welling. “No. We can’t...we can’t kill him.” Before she can even register, she confesses. “He can’t die. He can’t! I won’t kill him.”

“Maddie?”

She places her hand on the incubator. “I’ve been dreaming about him for weeks. He’s just a little boy. And we’re going to name him Danny. And he’ll have black hair and blue eyes but sometimes they’re green. And-”

“Madds, I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

Maddie is crying now. She doesn’t know what she’s saying either. She doesn’t understand. This is ridiculous. But- “Please. I… I can’t. I can’t lose him. I haven’t...I haven’t even held him yet.”

Jack looks gobsmacked and the woman feels that way too. Is she really saying this? And yet she is. She is and she means it. Every word and- 

She turns fully, putting both hands on the artificial womb. She looks, really looks and lets herself imagine. “I want him. I want him to be safe and healthy and happy. I want...I want him to be our little… our little boy, our baby.”

Maddie is crying and she can see it. Months from now. Holding a tiny pink, human-looking baby. His little fingers wrap around hers. She kisses his little nose and rocks him to sleep, just like she’d done with Jazz.

Jack grabs onto one of her arms and pulls her so she’ll look at him. “Maddie… what are you saying?”

She blinks back the tears, a determined look crossing her face. “I won’t kill him. And I won’t give him back to the GIW.”

His jaw drops. “We don’t have a choice here. They won’t let us keep him.”

Rage flashes in Maddie’s eyes as she grits her teeth. “I dare, I dare those f-king white suits to try and take away my baby!”

“Are you listening to yourself, woman?!” Jack puts up his hands.

The other scientist pokes him in the chest. “Are you listening to yourself?! You’re perfectly fine killing him! Or let’s just call the GIW and hand him over right now! Let’s just curse him to a life of torture and painful experiments and-”

“I’m not f-king okay with this!” Jack raises his voice. “I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to turn off that incubator. And I sure as hell don’t want to turn a baby over to the GIW so they can experiment on him! But we don’t have a choice! As soon as he can live outside that incubator, they’re going to take him away whether we like it or not. This is our only choice!” He grabs the plug again and...he’s crying too. “This is the only way. It’s...it’s this or… or a life of pain.”

The tears on her husband’s face finally snap Maddie out of her anger. She places her hands over his. “There has to be another way to stop this, a way to save him.”

“There isn’t.” His voice lowers, pained. “We can’t do anything and… they’ll never let us keep him.”

Maddie blinks, surprised. “Keep….”

Jack nods. He turns to the artificial womb, his face softening. “We’d wanted two kids. I’ve always wanted a son to take fishing. And….” He turns back to her. “Danny?”

“That's what I always call him, in my dreams. I...I don’t know how but.. It’s him. I keep dreaming about him.”

The other scientist’s brow furrows in thought. He pauses. “Black hair and blue eyes, you said? I think… I’ve dreamed about him too.”

Maddie’s mouth falls open. How? She wants to ask. But before she can, she blinks. And...they’re on the same page.

“So….” Jack turns back to the artificial womb. “We both want to keep him…” He sighs, the hopelessness audible in his voice. “What are we gonna do?”

 The woman swallows. “We won’t hand him over. We’ll...we’ll run.”

The man stiffens. “They’d find us and..we have Jazz. What kind of life would that be for them?”

“You’re right.” Maddie looks down, feeling ashamed for even thinking it. “We can’t...we can’t do that.”

Jack put his hand on his face, wiping away the tears. “How is this even happening? Oh god...I wish…I wish he was just a normal baby.” 

Maddie blinks and the world turns on its head. A sudden idea hits her. “What if….the GIW thinks he is?”

Jack’s eyes widen at the words. “What?”

“What if…they think he’s just a normal human?”

Her husband’s eyes widen even more. “Maddie….”

The woman starts pacing. “If the hybridization doesn’t work, if he’s just a normal human… we can convince them to let us keep him. This level of ecto contamination…. It’s never happened before. We can...we can use that. And…” She stops. “If they think that hybridization isn’t possible, then maybe they’ll stop. They won’t try again.” She hopes the words are true but she can’t dwell on the possibilities. Danny is who matters right now. “We can make this work. We can get them to let us keep him. It’ll… it’ll work.”

A little light enters Jack’s eyes; he seems encouraged by the words. “ But… how?” He asks tentatively.

“Here’s what we do…” Maddie starts, determined. Gradually, excitement and determination grow on Jack’s face as they discuss. They’ll make the GIW think the project failed. Through a combination of falsifying data and intentional sabotage, they’ll make sure the baby appears to be a completely normal human when he’s done.

Maddie goes to sleep that night feeling encouraged and excited. This will work. It has to work. It will.

“And what’s that constellation called?” Maddie asks, pointing at the starry sky.

“That’s Taurus, the bull. Did you know…” The woman looks down at a fourteen years old version of her son. Green stars glitter in his eyes and across his cheeks as he rambles.

The mother smiles, happy and heart full of love. There’s a clock ticking to the side and something glowing purple, curved like the horns of a ram.

“So you made your decision.” An ancient voice says, ringing like the great bells of a clocktower.

Maddie turns, startled. But she doesn’t speak.

“You still would have, without this push. But still…. This is the most favorable version of events.” The hooded figure continues.

“Why did you coerce me to help then?” Another being, stary and purple, grumbles.

The other figure doesn’t answer, still addressing Maddie. “You will not remember this when you wake up, not for many years. Until then, Madeline Fenton.”

In the morning, Maddie only remembers a dream of stargazing with her son. And it gives her the strength to enact their plan.

Jack and Maddie stage a malfunction with the ectoplasm circulation in the tube. They play at fixing it. Maddie’s body is tense with fear. What if it doesn’t work? And what if it does? What if the GIW realize what they are doing? But Jack and Maddie are determined. And they are careful, so careful. They contact the GIW and claim they are trying their best to fix the problem. But after the feed was cut off overnight, for twelve hours, the spectral energy in the fetus is already falling. It’s already dropped down to almost zero, the forming core unable to produce its own ectoplasm. At hearing this, the GIW are pissed. Jack and Maddie play at being apologetic and claim they’ll do everything they can to fix this.

The last few months pass. Danny grows, developing like normal. Jack and Maddie claim to be trying to reintroduce the ectoplasm but it won’t take. The fetus is rejecting it, each time the tiny heart threatening to stop. Hopefully the half-formed core will restart and it will be able to integrate the ectoplasm but it’s not working.

In truth, Jack and Maddie are watching and waiting with eager but nervous anticipation. There are many near catastrophes but they do in fact do everything they can to make sure Danny lives to see the outside of the incubator.

The mother put her hands on the glass. “Just a few more days, Danny. A few more days.” She hadn’t had any more dreams since the night she and Jack had made that decision but it doesn’t matter. A few more days and she’ll finally be able to hold her son.

The day arrives and the GIW agents and scientists are there when they take the boy out of the incubator. Jack washes him off, gentle but with a practiced neutral expression. Maddie has never had more struggle to act cold and professional in her whole life, as she takes a blood sample and her baby cries. 

She prepares a slide from the sample and looks at it under the microscope. “As we’ve said, there’s no signs of ectoplasm hybridization. Not even significant ecto-contamination.”

“Step aside.” The head agent demands. “I need to verify this.” He scowls and Maddie holds her breath, praying to a god she doesn’t believe in that he doesn’t find anything telling. The agent looks at the slide. He takes and prepares his own sample. He even scans Danny with his own ghost scanner. “You’re right.” He scowls. “The specimen is free of ectoplasmic contamination. Completely human.” He drops the scanner heavily. “What a waste! All that time and money!” He looks back at his fellow agents. “We need to discuss what to do with...this.” He turns up his nose at the sniffling baby.

The agents debate. “Waste of money. Take care of an infant, please.” A roll of the eyes.  “It’s illegal to experiment on a real human anyway.” “Let’s just destroy the records and get rid of the evidence.” Glances at Danny. “It doesn’t legally exist so….”

On the inside, Maddie is panicking but on the outside, she becomes the perfect image of a cold scientist. 

“Excuse me but, this is an extraordinary opportunity.” She argues. “This level of fetal ectoplasm exposure is unheard of. They need to collect data on this. This is a potential fountain of information on the effects  of long term exposure on the human body. There may never be an opportunity like this again.”

The agents look at each other. “She has a point.” One says.

The head agent rolls his eyes. “Maybe we can get something out of this, then.” The man tapped his chin. “We need scientists to carefully monitor this. We can’t just give this… subject to anyone.” He furrows his brow, turning to Jack and Maddie. “You’ve got a kid, right?”

The scientists both blink, surprised. “Well...yes.” Maddie answers.

“Congrats. You’ve got another one.” The agent says casually. “This is your problem now.” He motions to the baby. 

Jack and Maddie look at each other, still flabbergasted for a moment. And then… Maddie sees her husband’s expression shift. It’s not obvious on his face but he’s never been more relieved. 

The head agent is still talking, barely looking their way as he types on his phone. “We’ll arrange for a birth certificate to be assigned. And...a small stipend.” He looks up, giving them pointed glares. “You will say nothing and we’ll pay you to report any physical or mental deformities that develop.” He turns back to the phone. “This’ll end up being cheaper than holding that thing at the facility at least.”

The two scientists don’t argue and they don’t pretend to argue. Though Maddie’s stomach does flop. Deformities…. She hadn’t even thought about that. Jack glances at her. He takes her hand and Maddie knows it will be okay. If something happens, if Danny isn’t healthy, they’ll deal with it. And either way...he’ll still be perfect.

When the GIW finally take their equipment and leave, Jack and Maddie finally cry with relief. 

“Shh. Shh. It’s okay. Mommy’s here.” Maddie picks up Danny.

Jack stands beside her, one arm around her back. “We did it.” He says, awed. He gently reaches to touch the baby. Tiny fingers wrap around his pink. The man beams down. “Already got a strong grip, don’t you son?”

Son. The words warms Maddie’s heart, making her spirit sing. So. This is their son. Not their flesh and blood. But still their, always theirs. 

“You’re safe.” Maddie kisses the top of his head. “You’re safe, Danny.” The woman lets out a sigh of relief. They did the impossible, saving him from an agonizing fate as nothing more than an experiment, as a lab rat.  

“And we'll make sure you stay that way.” Jack vows. 

And Maddie agrees. They’ll do whatever they have to to keep it that way, to keep their boy free and safe.

“Come, Madds.” The man interrupts. “We need to introduce Jazz to her new baby brother.” Still being held by their mother, Jazz meets Danny and she instantly adores him. Maddie’s heart swells with love. 

Weeks become months become years. And Jack and Maddie both watch Danny grow into that little black haired boy that Maddie had dreamed about. And he’s surprisingly normal, completely human. His parents don’t tell him the truth, don’t even tell him he’s adopted. And they’re all so happy. Danny is happy and normal, a bright boy who loves life.

Years pass and Jack and Maddie keep working on their ghost research and raising their kids. Jazz is 16 and Danny is 14 when they successfully open their ghost portals and ghosts start invading the town. But still, Jack and Maddie are happy. They can almost forget where Danny came from.

Until when the mayor’s kidnapped, Maddie sees Phantom face to face for the first time.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

-

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

-

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

-

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

-

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

[svchengss]

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed. 

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”. 

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started. 

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers. 

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside. 

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting  about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made. 

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited. 

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out. 

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded. 

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party -  jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home. 

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically. 

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone. 

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it. 

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made. 

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted. 

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets. 

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you. 

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck. 

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence. 

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers. 

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less. 

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy. 

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home. 

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave. 

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him. 

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more. 

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days. 

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated. 

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-” 

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more? 

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands. 

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening. 

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back. 

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air. 

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure. 

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair. 

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him. 

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence. 

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride. 

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

[bucksfucks]

           amorosa // steve rogers

           chapter three: midnight

    chapter one // chapter two // chapter three

                    chapter four // chapter five

               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

                             main masterlist

summary || you wake up alone, a single note in the kitchen detailing where steve has gone. a few hours later you’re in his lavish office where he hands you a contract telling you to look over it before he takes you out to dinner. what you don’t realize is that dinner soon turns to something a little more risqué.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader

word count || 2,908 words

warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, undefined age gap, public washroom sex, unprotected sex, heavy daddy kink, mocking, degradation, name calling, orgasm denial, blowjobs, praise kink, dirty talk — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

      When you awoke the next morning you found yourself alone in your bed. The sheets were cold, though his side still smelt like Steve. You groaned as you stretched your arms above your head and your legs as far down as you could. 

     You were sore.

    Sore in the best possible way as butterflies flocked to your belly as you thought about how Steve was perfectly situated between your thighs or the way his cock filled you full. 

    You finally got the strength to get out of bed, legs slightly shaky as you grabbed your phone only to find it dead. It was plugged in and forgotten soon after as you started on a pot of coffee. 

    Your eyes caught sight of a note neatly placed on your small kitchen table, coming closer to inspect the neat writing over it. 

    Had to run to work, last night was everything and more. Give me a call when you see this. xx 

    Steve (678-136-7092)

    You smiled, as old-fashioned as a note might be, it made you feel warm inside as you impatiently waited for your phone to charge. It was only ten in the morning, you were sure he could wait just a little longer. 

    Your peace was soon disturbed by loud, incessant knocking at your front door that startled you, making you jump. You barely had time to set the piece of paper down before an envelope slipped under your door. 

    Grabbing it and quickly tearing it open you couldn't believe your eyes. 

    An eviction notice? 

    You groaned, rolling your eyes in disbelief as you shot daggers at your front door where your landlord was surely standing not even minutes ago. Still, you shook your head, tossing the notice onto your table before grabbing Steve's note and hoping your phone had enough juice to turn on. 

    Your day seemed to be turning up as it flashed on, a small victory as you quickly punched in Steve's number, turning speakerphone on as you tapped your foot waiting for him to pick up. 

    "Was startin' to think I scared you off after last night," Steve chuckled as he picked up the phone on the third ring. You playfully rolled your eyes, falling back against your bed. 

    "Scared me off? If anything you'll have trouble getting rid of me." You chid back as you heard Steve laugh followed by a click, probably an office door closing. 

    "Princess I won't be gettin' rid of you anytime soon." He said earnestly as you bit your lip trying to conceal your smile. You felt giddy, like a high schooler talking to their crush late on a Friday night. 

    "Do you think you can come down to my office this afternoon? I think we should discuss some rules." He said seriously, a twinge of professionalism coming through as your stomach flipped with nerves. 

    "Uhm yeah, sure, does one o'clock work?" You asked, sitting up to take a look at the time on the wall clock mounted right across from your bed. 

    "That's great, I'll send over a town car. See you soon, Princess." Steve said and you could hear the smirk in his voice as you stood up, feeling more confident in yourself. 

    "I'll see you later, Daddy." You nearly purred as he groaned lowly on the other end of the line, "oh I can't wait." And with that you were getting ready for your day. 

~

    Stark Towers was an impressive, daunting looking building as you stepped out of the town car Steve had sent over. The driver told you to just go to the front desk, tell them your name, and the rest would be taken care of. 

    You did just that, the petite woman behind the desk giving you a warm smile as she led you through a set of doors where you both got into a polished elevator. She hit the number 92 on the panel before you began your swift ascent. 

    The doors opened to white marble tiling, dark blue accents, and crystal clean statutes as she led you to a large set of where the name Steve Rogers, VP read in neat writing. She knocked twice before the doors were opened. 

    Steve had a hard look on his face that softened immediately as he caught sight of you. 

    "Thank you Belinda, can you prepare an all access card for her please?" He asked as she nodded her head, disappearing back into the elevator as Steve led you inside of his office. 

    He embraced you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placed a sweet kiss to your lips. 

    "I haven't stopped thinking of you," he mumbled, smiling as you played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He hummed, feeling the vibrations against your own chest as he leaned his forehead against yours. 

    "But as much as I'd love to take you right here, over my desk and in front of the windows, we have to set some rules." You couldn't help but whimper at his words, your arousal growing as he took a step away. 

    "Sit," it was a gentle command, and you did as you were told, taking a seat in one of the two plush chairs that were positioned right in front of his large oak desk. He leaned against the front of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest as he licked his bottom lip. 

    "I'm a man of business as you know, so," he grabbed something behind him, "there is a short contract." 

    You narrowed your eyes at the paper, extending your arm wordlessly as he gave it over to you. You skimmed over the first few paragraphs, noting how there were four pages total before you glanced at where he had already placed his signature. 

    "You signed already?" You asked, a little puzzled as he chuckled, "this is something I'm confident in." Steve shrugged, pushing himself off the desk and placing both of his hands on either side of your chair. 

    "Take your time, I don't need an answer right away." He says sweetly, his body towering over yours and the only thing you can think of is how much bigger he felt as he was on top of you last night. 

    You nodded your head slowly, swallowing thickly as he straightened his posture. He was so tall and broad and you had to stop thinking of him like that. At least for right now. 

    "I'll take a look at it tonight," you replied as he smiled, "good girl." 

    The praise sent another shiver down your spine as you watched him lick his bottom lip, he knew what he was doing to you, was this a test? 

    "Let's have dinner tomorrow, same time, different place? You can ask any questions you have pertaining to the contract, how's that sound?" You nodded your head again as Steve spoke. 

    "That sounds good." You told him with a smile as he extended his hand for you to take, he helped you up before his arms were around your waist again, lips against yours before his hands travelled down to your ass. 

    "Good girl, maybe this time you can skip the panties?" He purrs against your neck, his lips already nipping at your exposed collarbones as you feel him stiffen against your hip. You gasp, nodding your head, "o-okay." 

    "Okay who?" Steve eggs, "o-okay, Daddy," you whisper, biting your lip as he slowly rocks your hips against his. 

    You're just able to get your hand on the outline of his cock as his intercom buzzes, "Mr. Rogers, your one-thirty is here, should I send him in?" A woman's voice interrupts the two of you as Steve groans, rolling his eyes. 

    He hits a button on his desk harshly, "give me five minutes." 

    You reluctantly step away from him, taking in the bulge in his pants, wet lips, and slightly mused hair. 

    "I'm sorry Princess, Daddy's gotta work," he winked, readjusting himself as you gave him a small pout. He cooed at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "don't pout, if you're good maybe you'll get a surprise or two tonight." Steve promises as your eyes light up at his words.  

    "Now be a good girl, okay?" He says, giving your bum a pinch as he leads your out of his office, pressing the button on his elevator. 

    "Stop at the front desk on your way out and pick up your access key, okay? And text me when you get home, the car's out front for you." Steve says as you nod, clutching the contract tightly in your hands. 

    He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek before the elevator doors close leaving you alone to your thoughts. 

~

    You sat in your dimly illuminated kitchen, Netflix playing softly in the background as a cooling cup of tea was at your side. The contract was in front of you as you tapped your pen against it. 

    Clause 1.0: You will attend all events asked by Steve Rogers assuming he gives you enough time in advance. 

    That seemed fair, not like you were about to turn down anymore fancy dinners or a trip to the Alps. 

    Clause 2.0: In return, Steve Rogers will take care of and pay all bills. Any extra cash needed will be provided. 

    2.1: A credit card with a limit will be available at any time

    You stared at the words, it almost seemed too good to be true. You'd struggled with money nearly all your life and for Steve to just take all those troubles away? 

    Clause 3.0: This is a monogamous, exclusive relationship where no third party shall be involved unless each party involved agrees. 

    No problem there. 

    Clause 4.0: Transportation and housing will be provided through Steve Rogers. 

    As your eyes scanned through each clause you felt yourself getting antsy, wanting to see Steve again as you chewed on your lip. 

    You got to the final clause, skimming it over. 

    Clause 10.0: You are to refer to Steve Rogers as Daddy unless specified otherwise. 

    Your stomach flipped, thighs burning as you longed to feel the weight of his cock between your legs. You wanted to sign the damn thing right then and there, but you capped the pen, sliding the contract up the table before hopping into the shower. 

    Tomorrow would be interesting. 

~

    Steve had chosen an equally fancy restaurant, you expected nothing less as you walked through the glass doors, led to the table where Steve was waiting for you, phone to his ear as he caught sight of you. 

    You were wearing the only form fitting dress you owned, but it clung to you like a second skin and you could see his eyes darken as he cut whoever was on the phone by hanging up on them without a second thought. 

    "Christ, Princess," he groaned in your ear as he enveloped you, "you tryin' to give me a heart attack?" He smirked, taking your head and letting you spin around as you giggled. 

    "Only the best for you, Daddy." You purred, watching as his jaw clenched. You slid into the seat, Steve climbing in beside you in the booth before his hand was instinctively on your thigh. 

    Two menus are placed in front of you, the waiter pouring two glasses of water as you skim through the pages. 

    "I have something for you," you whisper, grabbing the folded contract out of your purse, handing it to Steve as he looks at you darkly. 

    He looks through it, noting the signature as he shoves it into his blazer pocket. 

    "It's all official now, Princess," he purrs, tilting your chin upwards with his index finger so you're looking up at him. You can feel the heat coming off of his body, the warmth of his finger under your chin causes you to shiver as his lips hover over yours, "meet me in the bathrooms in three minutes." 

    With that, Steve slipped out of the booth and gave you one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing from sight. Your heart was racing, nearly beating out of your chest as you tapped your fingers on the table before deciding fuck it and slinking away to the bathroom. 

    Steve was leaning against the wall, foot against the wall as he cocked his head to the side. 

    "There's my best girl," he said, extending his hand before pushing you both through the threshold of the toilets. 

    The door was locked seconds later, Steve whipping around to pin you against the sinks. 

    "Princess do you have any idea how hard it's been to keep my mind off of you? When I've had you writhing under me, my cock deep inside of you as I fucked you senseless?" His words were a low growl in your ear as you gasped. 

    "Daddy, fuck, I-I need you." You mewled, pouting and nearly begging him up you looked up at him through your lashes. 

    "Love hearin' you beg for my cock, Princess." He growls, hand snaking behind your neck as he kisses you roughly. It's teeth and tongue as he nips at your lower lip, tugging it before he's shoving his thick thigh between your legs. 

    You gasp at the contact, his hard flesh meeting your core as jolts of electricity run through you. You can barely keep your eyes open as his mouth is sucking right below your ear, his coarse beard tickling at your skin. 

    "Grind yourself over my thigh, Princess. Wanna watch as you ride it." He whispers darkly into your ear. You're shamelessly grinding yourself over his thigh as his hands go to palm your breasts through your dress. 

    It feels quick and dirty, but it's exactly what you need. 

    "Fuck, Daddy, want your cock." You whimper before he's stopping all movements to grab your chin and force you to look up at him. 

    "Oh is my dumb baby already so desperate for my cock, hmm? Then get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours." It's a simple command, your breath getting caught in your throat as you're pushed down onto the cool tiling of the bathroom floor. 

    You watch as he undoes his belt, bulge meeting your eyes before he's freeing his cock. 

    "Go on, Princess. Put that sweet mouth of yours to work," he purrs, running his thumb over your bottom lip as you wrap your hand around his base. 

    You pump him slowly, eyes watching him as he lets out a low groan, throwing his head back when you wrap your lips around his tip. 

    You can taste the salty pre-cum as you take him further, slowly relaxing your throat before hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head. 

    "Oh fuck—what a good little girl, look so pretty with Daddy's cock in your mouth Princess." He praises, your arousal growing as you feel your panties get wetter as you take him further. 

    Steve's gripping the edge of the counter as he lets his head fall forward. Your saliva coats his cock, your hands, and your chin as you moan around him. Steve's low grunts and groans fill the echoey bathroom before he's pulling his cock out of your mouth. 

    "Up. Now." And there's a sense of urgency in his voice that you've never heard before. 

    You do as you're told, Steve lifting you onto the counter and hiking your dress up, sneering when he finds you wearing panties. 

    "What did I tell you about panties, Princess?" It's a condescending tone as your head falls forward. He's pinching each cheek with his fingers as he makes you look up at him.

    "Good girls get rewards," he speaks, "but bad, bratty girls don't get to cum." He growls, ripping your panties off as you squeak. 

    He's plunging his cock into you seconds later, the action causing your body to jolt upwards. Steve is merciless in his thrusts as he keeps your body locked with his, your legs wrapped around his torso as he clamps his hand around your mouth to keep you quiet. 

    "My dumb little baby, couldn't even listen to simple instructions," he grunts, "God your pussy feels so good wrapped 'round me, Princess."

    You can feel the coil starting to form, the pressure building as your toes curl inside of your shoes and you want nothing more than to chant more, more, more. 

    "I know you wanna cum, baby, I can feel you squeezin' me," he whispers huskily, a dark smirk on his lips. 

    "If only you had listened to your Daddy," he almost snickers as he pulls out, fisting his cock until he's painting your thighs with his cum. It makes you shudder, watching him cum, feeling him cum, as he makes you watch. 

    He's breathing heavy, panting nearly as he drops his hand and kisses each cheek lightly before sealing his lips over yours. 

    "Let's get you all cleaned up, Sweetheart." Steve's tone has changed, now sweet and caring as he takes care of the mess he's made. You let, relishing in the gentle touches before he's helping you down from the sink and back onto your feet. 

    You pout when you meet his eyes again and he taps your nose, "don't give me that look, Princess." He warms playfully before you're making a hmph sound that makes him chuckle. 

    "How about I take you back to mine, we'll order in tonight, though what I want a taste of isn't exactly on anyone's menu."

tagging // @jennmurawski13​ | @nakedrogers​ | @vollzeitliebe​ | @kelbabyblue​ | @jevans2​ | @babyyhoneyydarling​ | @rogerslovesstark​  

any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

[literaila]

live without

spencer x reader 

request: Reader is out with the team for drinks but she’s isolated herself at the bar while the rest are at the booth. She’s drinking a lot the whole night to forget her feelings for Spencer and she gets really angry but also really sad when derek (or anyone) asks her why she’s indulging so much and causes a little bit of a scene. Basically she thinks he’s unattainable. Spencer asks her about it too and she gets defensive and is sorta rude to him to push him away but he’s all soft

warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, needles, viruses, poison.. angst? im not sure, the ending is sort of rushed

*

Unattainable. 

Nothing is unattainable. 

Not your goals, not your dreams. Not the things you want the most. 

Nothing is unattainable. 

That's how the saying goes. 

That's how it's supposed to be. 

So, when you’re sitting on opposite ends of a bar, when you’re watching the air change and the wind blow even though you aren't outside, when you’re all alone in a chair on the opposite end of the bar- you have to remember 

Nothing is attainable. 

Or at least, that's what you think after a couple of drinks. 

After meanings have changed and your smile has faded. 

It's so much easier to put on a mask before the drinks, before your brain is buzzing and your thoughts are flying so fast around the room that they're almost hard to see. So much easier to watch your friends laugh and try to join in before that extra sense of clarity has hit your skin, and you can smell the sweat. 

It's hard to remember what attainable is supposed to mean. Because you can't, you just can't reach out and grab whatever you want. Prices have to be paid and people have to be there. You can't just reach out and steal, you can't. People get in trouble for that. 

You’d been drinking at this bar for hours, you were sure of it, sure that it had been a long time since you’d walked in the door with that bright smile on your face, and those wide eyes that had slowly started to fade away after hour one. 

It was only two hours in when you’d started really drinking when the effects had really started to take their place among your being, taint your skin with something unwanted. 

It was only three hours in when you’d stopped caring. 

When you drifted away from the booth that your friends were sitting in, when you decided that smiling and laughing wasn't worth the energy and that you couldn't look as helpless as you felt anymore. 

That was at least an hour ago. You’d lost track of time becoming friends with the bartender. 

But now, you can't remember what you were supposed to be doing. Why you had come in the first place, how you had gotten there. 

Attainable. 

This wasn't. 

You knew that, because nothing was attainable. Because you needed to brush your teeth and go to sleep, because you needed more water than your body could hold to wash away this aching in your stomach, and you’d need even more to wash away the alcohol. Nothing was attainable, because you were sitting alone in a bar you’d arrived in with friends. Because you were sitting and drowning yourself in too many drinks, because you couldn't keep your eyes off of him. Because nothing was attainable. 

But that didn't mean you weren't allowed to look. 

To gaze off in a direction you’d never actually be in. To stare for longer than your eyes could take. 

You were at least allowed to do that. 

He wasn't attainable. Should have specified because you were sure that if you wanted something else, anything else, you could probably have it. 

But Spencer Reid, he wasn't just something you found at the store or something you could reach out and grab. He was so far away in a world of his own that you were sure you’d never see. 

Love, you should have specified, because he was your friend. Because he liked all your jokes and he loved to laugh with you. Because the two of you talked for hours and hours on long flights home, and you were very good at filing the awkward silences in humid cars.

Love, see that wasn't attainable. Not with Spencer. 

And the sayings were wrong, whatever they were. 

Because you’d come to this bar with him, and you were sure that wasn't the way you were going to walk out. 

Nothing is attainable. 

And your heart wasn't going to break. 

A bitter laugh was all it took to remind yourself of that. Another drink, why not. Another look over to him, where he was smiling with your friends. 

You hoped he was having a good time. And that he hadn't drunk too much. 

You hoped that Derek wasn't walking over to you like it looked like he was. You didn't want any more company than James, who said he’d supply you all night. 

You tried to take another sip of your drink, an unwanted hand stopping you before you could. 

Glaring eyes met Dereks and your temper was already starting to rise. You’d definitely had too much to drink. And you definitely weren't stopping now. 

“Slow down Y/N,” a drunken smile spoke your name, a friend of yours staring at you. You were sure he’d seem more concerned if he wasn't intoxicated. “Why aren't you sitting with us?” 

“It's very hot over there,” You said, sweetly, just to get him to leave you alone. 

It wasn't as if you didn't love Derek, and his antics, and his pretty face. But your mood wasn't good enough for talk, and manners weren't your friend right now. 

“Sorry,” he joked, waving to the bartender for another round before slipping his eyes to you again. “We miss you, you know. You should come back,” 

Come back and sit with us and pretend that your blood pressure hasn't risen to the roof and that your heart doesn't need something more to keep it beating. Come and sit with us and be happy even though that feels so unattainable. 

Goddamn, that word. 

“Actually Derek,” you said, sighing a breath of relief as you looked away. From his gaze, from his kindness which was too much to accept. “I think I’m going to go. It's very late” You placed a couple of bills on the bar, waving goodbye to James and lifting your head up to look at Derek again. 

“You’ll call a cab?” He checked, placing a hand on your shoulder as you stumbled your way off your chair. 

“Course, babe” you smiled, too big to be fake. Nodding at him, you moved away, walking just close enough to kiss his cheek. Just close enough to get him off your back, and to walk out of the bar. 

So that you could be unattainable again. 

Going outside was relief, to feel the cool air on your skin, to ease the flame that was burning up your insides. That had been burning for far too long. 

You tried to ignore the words swirling through your head, the voices that were so clear, the questions that were too much. 

Derek, asking Spencer which girls he found most attractive. Who he’d like to take home. 

You’d prefer to pretend that Spencer hadn't answered, that he hadn't drunk enough yet to answer a question like that. 

Because you didn't want to know, you didn't want to hear, you didn't want to listen to questions like that if you knew the answer wasn't going to be you. You did not, you couldn't. 

Because that ache in your soul, that ache that liked to run itself up and down your bones whenever you were with the one man that was unattainable to you. Because that feeling of despair and desperation, and hope. It was too much for any sane person. 

Too much for you. 

And you shouldn't be thinking of that right now. You should be getting your phone, calling a cab so that you could get home. 

So that you could flush your system with whatever was left in your fridge, so that you didn't throw up right then and there because of those words. 

So that you could breathe in the air again- 

“Y/N!” 

And so you didn't hear that voice behind you. 

Slightly slurred. 

And so that your body didn't stop involuntarily because you would wait for him always. Because you would stand with him forever. 

Because of course you turned around. 

“What’re you doing out here Spencer? It's cold,” You whispered as he approached you, a frown on his face while he shivered. 

“I came to check on you,” He said, standing in front of you now, his words blowing in your face and confusing you completely. 

Your brow furrowed as you looked down, rubbing your hands together. 

Derek had already checked on you. Hadn't he told everyone what you’d said? That you were going home. 

“I’m going home,” you whispered back, a cold smile on your lips as you looked back up at Spencer. That ache in your chest just too prominent for right now. His eyes just too much when it was so dark outside. 

When the moon and the stars were watching the two of you like entertainment like they couldn't look away. 

You were sure you’d had too much to drink. 

That he was unattainable. That you were just thinking too much. 

“I know,” He nodded. “Derek said, I just had to catch you before you left.” 

His voice was too sweet just to walk away, and your eyes were locked on his again. 

He was so much closer than you’d expected. 

You took a nervous step back, laughing as you looked away. As you feigned being comfortable, and warm. “Why?” you asked, words making their way out of your mouth like concrete. 

So heavy. 

Spencer took a step towards you, not noticing how uncomfortable you were so close to him, how you wanted to reach out and grab him like he was an object. He clearly didn't know anything about being so close. 

“I looked up a bunch of different ways to reach out to your friends,” he paused, looking up his cheeks suddenly flushed. “B-because I’ve noticed how different you’ve been acting recently. And I wanted to make sure that you’re okay, but I wasn't sure how without making you uncomfortable-” 

Spencer laughed slightly while you looked at him confused. Your brain was closed off, and you couldn't be this close to him without your body igniting something you couldn't define. 

Even just his voice was enough to make your body crumble, and you really shouldn't feel as vulnerable as you did, but your emotions were a steady line on a chart, going up up up. 

And Spencer was unattainable and that was killing you. 

From the inside out. Like a pathogen, like a virus taking over your cells. Love was going to kill you with its unattainable spark and taunting heart. You were going to die at the hands of someone so sweet, and so perfect. 

And you were still listening. 

“So I looked it up, but most of the answers involved bringing a gift basket or baked goods, which Garcia suggested actually when I talked to her. But- that, I um, didn't want to do that. It seemed…” he paused again, looking back at you with his perfect eyes. “Just not right,” 

His smile was making you dizzy and your close proximity was making your heartburn. He was worlds away and right there. 

Your eyes must have shown you confused because he sighed and didn't wait for an answer he was probably expecting. 

“I’m just going to ask, so are you okay Y/N? Really?” 

He was too kind to be talking to you, too sweet even when he was drunk and swaying on his feet. He was too tall to look up to and too pretty to stare. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, nonchalantly because you wanted this conversation to be over. Because he was too much, just enough to kill you in this parking lot. 

“You’re fine?” he asked, and you pretended not to hear the disbelief tinting his tone. The way he was staring at you. 

“Yup,” you popped, looking away and not saying anything else. Not uttering another word. 

“Are you sure?” he pressed, his voice soft and cautious but just enough to make the fear bubble up in your chest. 

“I’m fine Spencer, just drunk. I’m going to call a cab.” you didn't snap, but you weren't being nice, and as soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You wanted to take everything back and move away just so that you wouldn't have to feel like this anymore. 

Just so you didn't have to look at him and know that no matter how much you might want it to, your heart wouldn't break because you couldn't have him. 

There would be no physical scar left of him when he was gone. 

“Y/N, what's going on? You’re not yourself. You can talk to me you know,”

See that was the thing about Spencer, even when you wanted him to leave, even at this moment when you just needed to be left alone to be alright, he wouldn't stop pushing. He wouldn't stop because he had to make sure you weren't lying, that he wasn't going to miss something. 

He had to do this, for you. 

It was the worst good thing about him. 

“As I said, I’m drunk.” You turned away then, pulling your phone out of your pocket, and trying to click the buttons even though your hands were shaking. 

He would never ever be yours, and love was going to poison you until you couldn't breathe. 

He was unattainable. That was the saying. 

“Y/N, will you talk to me? You can tell me what's going on, I’m here to listen.” 

But he wasn't, he wasn't there, and he would never be yours. He would never love you like that, he was worlds away. 

“I know, Spencer,” you sighed, turning towards him again, his warm hand on your arm far too powerful to resist, the words bubbling in your mouth too quick to keep in. “I wish you weren't so far away.” 

It was a whisper, one so quiet he probably didn't hear. It wasn't that revealing, it wasn't too much, so you should be so worried that he would- 

“What?” he asked, concern slipping it away through his face, your eyes tearing up. You were intoxicated, you were drunk, these tears shouldn't be falling out of your eyes, and you should be at home, you should leave. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” 

It was a fake statement, selfish and cowardly to say that you weren't sure, to only reveal some of yourself. It was fake and not true because you didn't just think. You knew. 

But he didn't need to know that. He just needed to let you deal with heartbreak alone. 

He was unattainable. Too much. So far away. 

And he was asking again, trying to get you to clarify, to say it again, but you couldn't because this powerful thing, this love, you should have specified, was injecting itself into your heart again, and eventually, it would be so that you were free so that your blood would stop and you were gone, and the knowledge that you loved Spencer Reid would be stuck in your body forever. 

How daring and cruel love was to you. 

“You- what did you say?” Spencer asked, so confused for someone so smart. Smiling just as an intoxicated person should. 

“We’re drunk, you should go back inside and get someone to take you home Spence. I need-” you took a deep breath, trying to get this poison out of your mouth. “I need to go home. 

“You love me?” he asked. 

So cliche and so quiet. And too much for your heart, and your body and all of the feeling inside your chest, and you should have left hours ago before you weren't smart enough to deal with this, and you should have just smiled, and you shouldn't have told him what you were thinking. You should have shut up before you got too ahead of yourself. 

And you were so tired. 

“I do,” you said, eyes blurry, face freezing, void of emotion. 

And when Spencer kissed you, when he leaned down to place his lips on yours, when he was so close like this. 

Poison was such sweet relief. Unattainable things were just so attractive, and the way he tasted was just so intoxicating. 

It was almost sobering to feel his lips against yours. Almost a light in complete darkness to feel his hand making its way up to your neck, to feel the other cupping your frozen cheek. 

It was so sweet to place your hands on his back, and in his hair, and to envelope yourself in his warmth. To be as close as you were. 

Spencer Reid had kissed you and suddenly you couldn't think, and you didn't want to breathe, and he could poison and kill you a million times if you could just kiss him like this for just a few seconds longer. 

What was pain when you were standing in the cold with someone like him? 

With someone, you were sure you loved. 

Love love love. 

Was such a perfect poison, the sweetest pain. A marvelous heartbreak. 

And it was so good to break away and laugh with someone so unattainable. 

To kiss an unattainable person for the second time. 

*

my masterlist here.

[hualianff]

How To Piss Off Your Boss II 《I》

When HC places the dishes in front of a group of esteemed guests, foreigners and wealthy business people by appearance, he’s roped into a brief conversation in English. Not that he minds too much. HC has had many opportunities to practice different languages in the kitchens he’s worked in, mainly consisting of English, Spanish, Italian, and Japanese. Most of the phrases HC retained were curse words too. Go figure.

Once the CEO wraps up the small talk session, he spins on his heel and speeds back to the kitchen. As he power walks through the various tables, HC takes note of which guests have seemingly ordered yet still only have drinks on their tables. He’s not sure what his employees were yammering about to delay their service up to fifteen minutes, but it could certainly wait until after the dinner rush, for god’s sake.

A blur of white completely stops HC in his tracks. His neck suffers from a violent double-take when he catches sight of a familiar white turtleneck, worn by a figure with a familiar smile. HC’s mouth gapes open slightly, nearly tripping in his haste to veer off towards the two-person table secluded by the window.

XL cutely waves as he finally gets a glimpse of his husband tonight.  

“Gege!?” HC breathily asks, confused. XL sets his flute of wine down, amber eyes shining with mirth. 

“Surprise!”

HC immediately shoots a glare back to the kitchens where he sees his employees peeking through the pair of windows on the doors. His lips curl into an angry snarl, like a tiger provoked by its own streak. He makes a move to steamroll into his kitchen and rip them a new one. Except a hand grasps onto his wrist before he can make it past one table.

“San Lang, don’t mind them. It’s no big deal,” XL pleads, tugging on HC’s hand. The taller man willingly turns around, rolling his wrist so he can be the one to hold XL’s hands instead. 

“Gege, how long have you been waiting?” HC asks in a tight voice. XL frowns, not wanting to answer, but he knows HC won’t let it go.

“Just under thirty minutes.“

“Thirty minutes!?” HC exclaims. “The fact that no one told me you were here for nearly half an hour is unacceptable. Oh my god, I’m going to fire them all.“

“No, you’re not. San Lang, calm down. I didn’t tell you I was coming, so you couldn’t have known. I don’t think the server who showed me to my seat even knew who I was,” XL reasons.

He subconsciously pulls HC closer to sitting down at the table. 

“Someone should’ve told them because you’re not just any customer, gege. You’re my HUSBAND. You’re important to me, and I would like my workers to let me know if you’re here regardless if I knew beforehand. I don’t want you to have to wait that long for me to come out and join you.“

“They said you were busy! Plus, thirty minutes is hardly a long time.“ XL tries again. HC insistently shakes his head, gingerly squeezing XL’s hands. 

“Darling, your time is too precious to be wasted like that,” HC says, leaning forward to plant a kiss on XL’s forehead. XL hums as he finally pushes HC down into the chair opposite of his own. 

“Well, you’re here now, right? Why don’t we enjoy a lovely dinner together? My treat!” XL says happily.

Seconds later, two massive dishes of finely-boiled squid and glass noodles, along with spicy wonton soup are placed in front of the two men. It’s the new cook who bows while stuttering out an apology, repeating “I didn’t know- Hua Lao Ban, Xie-xiansheng- I didn’t know- please forgive me.”

XL, being the angel he is, claims there is nothing to forgive. Across from him, HC silently churns in strong disagreement. It takes three servers to make sure everything was up to standard, watching their boss’ expression carefully for any hint of dissatisfaction. They leave in a hurry, the abundance of food making XL’s face light up like a Christmas tree.

“I love you, San Lang,” XL cheers, tapping his chopsticks together excitedly.

HC’s face softens, endeared by his husband’s antics. The incident is far from being forgotten in his mind. After all, from the stories XL has told about the times he was truly struggling in life after the pitfall of his parents, HC has a very good idea of what circumstances XL has had to endure—way worse than waiting thirty minutes for his food and husband to show up. 

XL probably didn’t even expect to see HC tonight. And that is still absolutely inexcusable. XL is HC’s number one priority, even above all of his businesses.

But for now, HC supposes he can put it off to share a wonderful meal with his husband.

“I love you too, Gege,” he responds, shoulders relaxing.

However, an offending, black, leather folder captures HC’s attention. It’s tucked into a corner on XL’s side of the table, unopened. HC already knows what it is without having to look closer.

“Gege…”

“Hmm?” XL looks up with his mouth full of noodles.

“Did they charge you for the meal?” HC asks slowly, barely contained fury simmering beneath the surface. His eye pins the flutes of his favorite drink he hasn’t touched. “And the wine?”

XL chews methodically, cheeks puffing from how stuffed they are. If anyone who cared about eating etiquette were watching him, they no doubt would be utmost appalled at such a messy display. HC would curse them to hell if they dared said or did anything.

XL finally swallows, licking his lips.

“There’s nothing wrong with charging me,” XL says. HC’s nails dig into his skin as his hands clench into balled fists. “What if I just want to support my husband?”

HC inhales deeply, then exhales heavily.

“Gege does that enough by being married to me. Look, I’ll be right back-“ HC abruptly stands up. He swoops in to kiss XL on the lips, pecking three more times which makes XL giggle. HC then quickly blows cool air on the spoon XL holds mid-air with his hot soup. 

Without another word, HC storms back towards the kitchens. The other cooks actively avoid their boss, bowing profusely if they happen to cross paths with him. HC doesn’t say anything to acknowledge their remorseful actions. For the next ten minutes, he continues instructing the team as if the mishap hadn’t even happened. 

Apologizing won’t be enough, they all know this. They kept not only XL waiting for thirty minutes but also the other customers that entered after him. However, XL had been waiting for the longest as he was a walk-in customer, which made it all the more displeasing for HC to find out his husband had not received the special treatment he deserved. 

The orders have slowed down enough for HC to snap his fingers as a signal for everyone to line up. When all the cooks are appropriately assembled, HC doesn’t hesitate to hurl the folder with the check onto the main island in front of them. 

“Who was it?” HC asks icily. No one utters a sound. The CEO reaches over to yank out the white paper filled with prices. He points to it, eyeing every single one of his employees. “Tell me. Who gave this to him? Who charged him for his meal when I have specified numerous times to never–and I mean NEVER–bill him.”

It’s so quiet in the kitchen, the guests closest to the kitchen doors can probably hear HC scolding his cooks, beyond livid. HC couldn’t care less, as long as XL was outside of hearing range and slurping down his soup with a content tummy. He’ll have to make it up to XL on his own accords, first by taking his husband home to have uninterrupted one-on-one discussion.

The newer cook who HC has distinguished as Hai Ye shuffles uncomfortably, looking like a child guilty of disobeying their parents’ order. Someone has yet to speak up to confess or snitch, meaning they would rather face punishment collectively than risk one person receiving full blame. While HC is one thread away from blowing his top off, he buries the nasty curses down inside his chest. He knows what it’s like to receive unfair consequences for things he didn’t knowingly do wrong. 

Instead, HC forces his temper to cool down. 

“Seeing as these were a series of mistakes that everyone here has contributed to, I’m canceling janitorial services and assigning all of you cleaning duty,” HC declares, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what else it will take, but this must not happen again. With Xie Lian or with the backed-up orders. We are better than that, understood?”

“Yes, Hua Lao Ban,” the cooks recite resolutely. HC grunts with a tone of finality. He quickly snatches his long coat, taking out his wallet and stacking the amount of money needed to cover XL’s check. 

“Good. We can move on from that. Finish the night on a reasonable note. Additionally, can someone fetch me a to-go box and cup?” HC asks as he unbuttons his chef blouse and throws it into the hamper off to the side. HY is the closest to the to-go boxes, so he instantly abides by HC’s request. The CEO offers HY a nod of gratitude. Then, he’s out of the kitchen, long coat thrown loosely over his lanky frame. 

Between the few orders they have to complete, HY witnesses HC personally box up his and his husband’s food. XL eagerly holds HC’s hand when he’s done, pulling the taller man towards the front door to go home. Before leaving, HC gives the head chef, HX, a menacing glare as if to say, “You better have things under control.”

The CEO of Crimson Embers walks out of his restaurant with a gentle hand resting on his husband’s lower back. They disappear through the front glass doors, subtly leaning into each other’s space, content to be together after a long day apart. 

Bonus:

When the other branches hear about the incident, they hang up a framed picture of XL with HC, making sure to point to XL’s face for new employees saying, “If this man enters the restaurant, show him to his seat and then tell Hua Lao Ban immediately. Get him everything he asks for. NEVER charge him for his orders.”