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galaxyedging · 2 years

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Better part 4

Part 3 | Masterlist

Marcus Pike x f!reader

Smut 🔞 Angst. Language. Pregnancy.

"Fuck! That's it Baby. You take my cock so well. Never had anyone feel this good around me." He could feel his climax nearing with stroke of your hot velvet walls around him. Every moan sent a shiver through him. He could feel you were close, so close...

The alarm brought Marcus back to reality. Hair stuck to the layer of sweat on his forehead. He was panting like he'd been running, apt since his dreams were a manifestation of what he was running from. His erection ached against his sheets. Throwing them off he left the cool air get to his feverish skin. He lay there naked willing himself to calm down. He felt wrong touching himself to the thought of you. He was painfully hard. Thinking of baseball and a cold shower wasn't going to do the trick. Applying a generous amount of lube to his swollen length, he hissed at the first stroke of his hand. Desperately trying not to think of you he thought about the porno he watched last week. The one with the secretary in the very short skirt. It barely covered his ass and flared when she moved. Her 'boss' bent her over the desk, licked into her shiny pink cunt until she came. He spank her hard before fucking her until the desk shifted across the floor. Marcus was on the edge before his thoughts turned to you. You gasping as every smack of his hand against your plush ass. You moaning with every thrust of his cock in your too tight heat. The blood rushed to his ears as he came, his release on his stomach and your name on his tongue. After a long cold shower he left for work.

The calendar on his desk reminded him you were almost 11 weeks pregnant. Time was going so quickly. There was so much to do. He had started a college fund for the baby. Looked at moving to a more child friendly place. He had even started to learn a massage technique to help you later in the pregnancy. You were happy to have him in the delivery room so he wanted to be there for you. He thought the massaging might help. His heart swelled with pride at the sighs that left you, along with the tension, when he had demonstrated it the night before. He enjoyed having his hands on you more than he cared to admit. The last time that had gripped you that tight was after his marriage ended. You'd just been through your own, badly timed, break up. A week later you both had to attend a wedding. Neither of you bothered with a plus one. As the night drew to a close, you found yourselves on the a dock, looking out onto the water. The moon reflected in the hypnotic rhythm of it. To this day he still doesn't know who started it. Before he knew it you were underneath him. He was gripping you close, pounding into you. Letting everything he felt go. All the stress of his marriage. All the fear of losing you by asking for more between. He wanted to tell you he loved you as he lay there, panting and softening inside you.

The next morning, his courage left him. Instead of declaring his love, he awkwardly asked if everything was good between you. Apologiesed for not using protection, at the time he trusted that you had taken care of that. Offered to go get you the morning after pill if you needed it. You had smiled gently at him before telling him it was okay and going back to your room. That night haunted him for months, only letting up when you moved away for an assignment.

Marcus was so lost in his thoughts it took a moment for him to register that you were talking to the new guy. Marcus recognised the way he reacted to you. He likes her. Of course he does, who wouldn't. His heart broke a little at the weightless laugh you let out. You hadn't laughed like that with him for a while now. As you approached he buried his head in some papers.

"See you met the new guy." He gestured in Nick's direction with the paper in his hand. "Seems like a nice guy. He looked interested in you." She's not yours let her be happy.

"Yeah, he seems nice but..." But he's not me, please say it."...it's not like I can date now."

"Why not?" Because you're mine. Mine. Always.

"Well, the baby. It's a difficult situation. For me, anyone I date. Am carrying your child, you'd be okay with me dating?" No. Not at all. Never. Shit, she needs an answer.

"Well, the baby's mine. You're not."

For the rest of his life Marcus would never forgive himself for how that came out. He wanted you to be his with every fibre of his being but he knew that you weren't his. He knew he couldn't keep you.

"That's a good point." You sounded breezy, the tone stabbed at him. Thankfully, he was saved by your colleagues arriving for the meeting.

For the next couple of weeks you and Marcus found excuses not to be around each other. He wasn't stupid he knew you didn't want to be around him. The time he was alone he spent cursing himself. At this point he weren't even sure if your friendship would be the same.

By week three you settled into a new dynamic. Quick calls and texts. Small talk. Dinner maybe once a week, all veiled in polite conversation. It was hell.

All Marcus wanted was you back but he had no right to push anything. When he heard you were dating Nick, he tried to be happy for you. He noticed you seemed more relaxed around him again. That was a plus. Everything else was just messed up. How did he think he could have a baby with the woman he loved without it bleeding into your relationship? Every time he got close to you, killed him a little. He was revived by the excitement of creating a life with you. He was going to be a father. Something he had always wanted. Admittedly this wasn't the way he had pictured it but he knew you were going to be an amazing mother. You already were. He'd heard talking to your bump, singing to it. You took excellent care of the two of you. He could only imagine how good you were going to be with them when they were born. He'd picture you, rocking the swaddled bundle in your arms, singing softly. Some old country song that reminded you of your long since passed mother. The sunlight streaming into the room illuminated your face, not brightening it as much as the smile that spreads across it when you turn to see him. He takes you both is him arms as you all sway together to the old melody in the air.

When he heard the heartbeat for the first time he could hold pack his emotions. He scattered little kisses all over your belly. They way you looked at him afterwards was the most affection he had seen from you in weeks. He wanted that. He wanted you.

The only thing that kept him from losing his mind over your new relationship was that fact that Nick would be moving soon. He hoped that the prospect of a long distance relationship with a new mother would have him running for the hills. Hopefully once Nick was out of the picture you and Marcus could patch things up. You had been friends for twenty years, he didn't know how to not be your friend.

By the time your five month scan came around things with you and Marcus were very different. HR had given you a desk job so you worked together less. Calls and texts were more functional than anything else. The time you spent together was just for the baby. It was sad but it felt nessecary. He needed to give you space and adjust to his new role in your like. Nick helped with that mindset. He was there to look after you when you needed it. He kept you busy and away from Marcus. He reminded Marcus that you weren't interested in him. A reminder he needed every day. Not yours. Not yours.

"This might be a little cold." The sonographer warned before squeezing some cold gel on your stomach.

When you shivered you felt Marcus move closer to you.

"Dad, do you want to move around this side to get a better view?" She pointed a space next to you.

Marcus looked to you for approval. He wanted a closer look so badly but didn't want to overstep. Smiling at him, you nodded. Eagerly he filled the space.

The sonographer hovered the wand over your belly. "Ready to see your baby?"

The two of you nodded in unison. Together. Easy. Just like it should be. Like it used to be.

Seeing the baby on the screen, it made it all real. Tears filled his eyes. His throat was thick with emotion. That was his baby on the screen. He sobbed with joy. You pointed to your purse. He passed it to you and you passed him a tissue. He squeezed your hand in thanks.

The sonographer had been working away the entire time. Muttering and making notes, she had explained that she needed to measure the baby's growth before telling you the sex. Suddenly, she fell silent. Turning you she offered a reassuring smile. "I just need to go grab someone for a second opinion."

Before you could speak she was gone.

"Marcus?" You pulled at his arm.

"It's okay. I'll go find out what's going on." He had to be strong for you. He pushed down his panic and shifted into practical mode.

"No. Stay. Please?" You sounded so small, he wanted to protect you from the world.

"Of course." He bent over you taking you in his arms. Wrapping your arms around him you held him like he'd wanted to all these months. He felt like 'your Marcus' again. This is how things should be.

"I've missed you." You whispered.

"I've missed you too." He pressed a kiss to your head.

The doctor returned with a consultant. Apologies and swift introductions were made.

"Right." The consultant said before looking at the screen. "There might be a issue that we would need to treat your baby for. No cause for concern. If there is an issue it is very treatable. The operation can be performed in to womb..." they way she spoke you could tell she was going for informative and reassuring but it was far from it for you. Marcus could see you struggling to process it. He was too. How could something bad be happening to their baby before they were even born. How could he protect them? As the doctor spoke, he looked at the notes in her hand for anything that could help. He noticed in a box labelled 'Sex' she had circled the F. Female. A girl. He genuinely didn't care what the biological sex was. Gender wasn't set in stone but an old fashioned part of him thought about his little girl, going to Daddy and Daughter events, giving boys, or girls, the evil eye when they picked her up for a date. The doctors voice came back to him."....I know it sounds scary but that is the absolute worse case scenario and even that is manageable. What we need to do right now is confirm if there is an issue, we need the baby to move so we can get a better look. Mom, if you can walk around a little, we'll see if the little one will move so we can get a better look."

Marcus was by your side as you stood from the bed. Taking your hand he walked you out, following the signs, you made your way to the gardens.

It sky was clear and calm. The sun bright in the sky. The cool wind was a small relief. Cool, calming. He could face this. He could be strong enough for both of you. He realised you had stopped walking. He was in front of you catching your gaze in a flash.

"Sweetheart, look at me. It will be okay. The doctor told us the worse case was treatable. We don't even know if that's what this is. It's all going to be alright."

Tears streamed down your face. He wanted to fight the heavens for you. Take on whatever power in the universe that made you cry like that.

"I did this. I was selfish. I wanted a baby even though I knew risks came with age. I did this to our baby. I lost you. Pushed you away because I was hurt."

"No, darlin'. None of this is your fault. You've been a good mom even before there was an actual baby. You've made such a good home for her." He spread his hands across your bump, his forehead now resting against yours.

"Her?"

"Yeah." He chuckled a little. "I saw the doctor's notes before we left."

"I still can't believe this is happening but now I have a rough outline of our baby and a biological sex, it's making it more real. We're having a baby!" Your potential troubles seemingly forgotten for a moment you hugged Marcus peppering his cheek with kisses. One strayed over onto the corner of his lips. Pulling away you search each other's eyes. All he saw was the love he had for you looking back at him. He hoped he wasn't wrong. Slowly, he leaned in placing a chaste kiss on your lips before leaning his forehead on yours again. He stood there for a moment, you hadn't rejected him, he took the time to revel in the potential of something more. After indulging himself he took your hand to walk again.

"Let's getting walking. See if we can get her turned around."

Thankfully, the next scan an hour later revealed that the baby was fine. There was a very slight concern that you might develop a condition that may need you to take it easy later on in the pregnancy other than that, everything was perfect.

Marcus took you home that day, instantly you fell back into your old ways, spending most of your time together. The closeness between you returned. Not exactly as it was before, it had evolved. Every time you touched your hands would linger on each other. He took to kissing you goodnight with the same chaste kiss as the hospital. It was done with the purest of intentions but it made him burn.

Another couple of months passed, the condition that the doctor's were worried about reared it ugly head. They didn't confine you to your bed but you pretty much needed to be in for huge chunks on some days. You felt drained. You told Marcus it wasn't all bad. You got to catch up on shows that you had missed with being busy in work. Everyday he would make you meals snacks before he left so the most you had to do was shuffle to the kitchen and use the microwave. By now he had pretty much moved in with you. It had happened slowly, the odd night on the couch. A spare work outfit in your closet. Eventually he had just started sleeping in the nursery. For convinience you had put a small bed in there. When Marcus got home he would snuggle you in your kingsize bed. Not that the size would matter, you pressed so close into him that you didn't need much room. He'd never been this happy in his life.

One Saturday, Marcus had spent the day decorating the nursery. He came into your room eager to show you.

"Careful, careful." He guided you into the room. Large hands covered your eyes. "Et voila!" He removed his hands with a flourish.

Blinking against the light you took it in. When deciding on the decor gave you a headache, you had passed it over to Marcus. The only direction you gave him was gender neutral and in touch with nature. From the look on your face, he'd nailed it. As you looked up at the pale blue ceiling. Marcus moved to the light switch behind you.

"Go turn off the lamp." As you did so he switched on the overhead light. Stars burst onto the ceiling. Swirls of them and constellations covered it.

"Marcus! It's beautiful." Looking around you named the constellations you recognised. "I don't know that one."

"I looked it up. It would have been visible the night we met."

Instantly dread settled in his stomach, you were completely silent. When the silence got uncomfortable he made to leave. "It's late I better get home."

"You're not staying?"

"I packed up my bed."

"Sleep with me!" God, how his heart, and other parts leapt at that.

"You can share my bed." You clarified. "If you want."

"I'd like that." That all he trusted himself to say. All these lingering touches that had grown the intimacy between you, had served to fuel his desire for you. He thought about touching you when he found his hands wrapped around himself at night.

Bedtime came and you snuggled in, as you usual when he returned from work. He would tell you and the baby about his day. As usual, he pressed his lips to yours in a goodnight kiss. This time when he moved to pull away, you went with him, pressing your lips to his. Shock slowed his actions before he obliged, kissing you deeply. His lips moved to your neck, kissing down then back up to behind your ear, he knew how much you loved that spot. He wanted to make this good for you. Be worthy of you. Your good heart. Your charming company. Your chest heaved against his arm, reacting to him. Raising his hand he cupped your breast, swiping his thumb across your nipple. Moving back to capture your lips again he had to stop as you yawned uncontrollably.

"Am I boring you?" He grinned.

"Definitely the opposite. It's just late."

"Well, go to sleep then, Baby." He pulled the covers up over you. Turning off the light as he moved away to give you room to get comfortable and to hide his erection. You slept well, not noticing when he crawled out of bed. He snuck to the main bathroom. He released his tension, biting into the skin of his bicep as he muffled his moans. Quietly, he returned to the bed. He kissed you on the forehead before settling down to sleep.

In the morning, he got a call from work. He left you a note, explaining that he'd been called into the office but would be back for lunch. The meet was about a new task force the high ups wanted set up urgently. His boss had already filled him in when he arrived, he originally wanted Marcus to head it. He had politely declined. There was no way he was working extra now. He didn't even want to be there this morning. He could be at home with you, seeing where those kisses from last night might lead. Once the meeting was over he nearly fell over himself to get out of there.

"What is all this?" He smiled wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you to his side when he arrived home.

"I feel more energetic today. I wanted to do something to say thank you. For looking after me. For the beautiful nursery."

"You don't have to thank me. You're having my baby. Am the one who should be thanking you."

His arms were now around you, your hands on his chest, the bump framed by the two of you. It was the picture of domestic bliss. Until he kissed you. Things went from picturesque family to borderline pornographic real quick. Your hands were all over each other. Lips catching moans from each other's mouths. Somehow you managed to stumble to the bedroom without seriously injuring each other. He did stub his toe but he could've step on a thousand Legos and still kept it together to helping you undo his dress pants. They were quickly pulled down his legs along with his underwear. As soon as his rapidly hardening length was free, you pushed him backwards. As his legs hit the bed he fell back to sit on it. Pushing him further back you leaned over to spit on his cock so you could pump it a few times, ensuring he was fully ready for you. He remembered what you were like in bed, from his own experiences, from your own confessions and a few things your ex's had hinted at. He was turned on beyond belief.

"Fuck. That was hot." He grunt as his hips chased your hand. With some maneuvering and help you straddled him. Marcus sat up reaching for your chest. He roughly tugging down you dress to expose you to his gaze. God, you were gorgeous. His lips latched onto one of your nipples and you knees buckle. Your core pressed into his cock as you collapsed down. Fuck, you weren't wearing any panties and you were soaked. Taking him in hand you lowered yourself about half way onto his length. You were so hot, tight, wet. You felt like paradise. Shit, he was going to come. He grabbed your hand round his cock and squeezed, staving off his climax. His teeth were gritted and his eyes screwed shut. You froze above him. "Marcus?"

"Shit. Sorry. Thought about you so much. Finally being inside you, I nearly blew my load straight away." He took a few more deep breaths gripping the base of his cock. He groaned a your pussy squeezed him. "Baby! Fuck, you're clenching around me. It's not helping."

"Then don't tell me that you want me so much that you'd come just from slipping inside me."

The argument was weirdly domestic considering his cock was stretching you open.

"Shall we just call this a warm up? If you don't come before I do, I'll eat you out until you scream." He groaned again. "Now your doing it on purpose!"

"Damn right I am. No one has ever made me come like you did with your tongue." Fuck, he was already obsessed with getting another taste of you. No one tasted as good as you. No one had ever squirted for him like you had. Sinking right down on him you clenched again before lifting up and riding the head of his cock.

"Fuck. No one had made me feel like you do. Can I take over? Can I fuck this perfect pussy? Please?"

Panting above him you nodded. "Yes. I've wanted you so badly. Need you." Need you. Pushing you up, he grabbed your hips preparing to thrust up into you. He was going to ruin you. Wait, could he ruin you?

"What?" You looked at him as he thought.

"I was going to...hard. But...I can't hurt her can I? If I go too hard?"

The laughter that rocked you vibrated straight to his cock.

"Marcus!" With that you bounced on him a couple of times. That broke his resolve, he fucked up into you.

"Fuck baby. The best pussy I've ever had. Love filing it with my come." He babbled as he came down from his high.

"Come here." Moving his hands to your ass he pulled you up the bed.

"Marcus?" He kept shuffling you, it could wait. He needed to taste you.

"Marcus!" He stopped with your knees either side of his chest.

"You can't expect me to sit on your face. Am huge!"

"Not huge. Beautiful." He resumed his pulling. He could smell your arousal, his cock stirred again.

"I could suffocate you."

"I'd die happy." He quipt before flattening his tongue against your pussy. The taste that claimed his tongue, his mind, was exquisite. "Marcus am not exactly prepared for this."

"Prepared?" He muttered against you. He could barely thing straight. He just wanted to map you with his tongue.

"I'm....overgrown."

He laugh against your folds. "It don't care if I have to part it with a comb and clip it back, I am eating this pussy. I want you to come all over my face. Tell me what you need."

"Just you." Just you.

"You've got me. Always." He set to work, fucking your opening with his tongue. Groaning at the taste of his climax missed with your juices. Before dragging it back up to your clit. Swirling, licking, prodding until you came.

"Marcus. Marcus. Marcus." Your whole body seized up on top of him. He helped you up to go pee and clean up. Once you were done, he settled you into bed before climbing in to spoon you. His warm naked frame pressed into yours now clad in an oversized t shirt. Sighing happily you wriggled back against him, trying to get as close as possible.

"Stop." He nipped at your earlobe. "You're going to get me going again."

"Good."

Rolling your hips, you ground your ass against him until he was rock hard. His hand slide between your legs, teasing your enterance before barely breaching you with his cock. His thrusts were shallow and slow. There was no urgency this time. You were both content just to feel each other. Marcus's hands roamed your body as he placed kisses wherever he could reach. Eventually, he couldn't take it any more, he angled you forward to deepen his thrusts. A few well place strokes, along with thick fingers on your clit pulled a drawn out climax from you. Marcus followed soon after, gripping your throat lightly to hold your head back next to his. He grunted curses into your ear as his warm release bloomed between your legs. Once you were cleaned up, again. Marcus headed out to the kitchen to salvage dinner.

As he walked into the kitchen, he wondered why he had been such a coward. Surely risking losing you was better than never having this with you? In your line of work he could lose you anyway. This way he'd get to have all of you, know what that felt like, have the memories to hold.

Your rule of not eating in bed was well and truly out of the window by now. The two of you sat propped up against the head board, enjoying the food you made.

"This is delicious! I barely ate today so I really appreciate this." He meant every word.

"Why didn't you get to eat? What was with the emergency Sunday morning meeting?" He thought about hiding the truth but he couldn't lie to you.

"They're putting together a new task force. They wanted me to head it."

"Oh." You sounded so sad, he knew he made the right choice. He just hoped you wouldn't feel guilty.

"I said no. Obviously this isn't the right time. I'm still going to be on it but someone else will run it. We'll find out tomorrow."

Marcus headed out to the office the next morning. He'd have given anything to stay. Spend time in your arms. Between your legs. Catch up with everything you hadn't said when you weren't together. He already didn't want to go to work so the news that greeted him hit him in the face even harder. He decided to come home a little earlier than usual and grab take out on the way. He sat you at the table while he laid everything out. Everytime he passed he'd kiss your head or your cheek, touch your hand. He was always physically affectionate, now he was completely free with. He could touch you whenever he wanted. His goodbye kiss this morning had turned into several goodbye kisses and almost made him late. He wouldn't have cared if he was, he just wanted more of you.

Popping a egg role in your mouth, your cheeks bulged adorably, you asked about his day.

"Heard any more about that task force?"

"Oh yeah." He chuckled taking a sip of his wine. He wondered for a moment about telling you. Again, he couldn't lie. "Well they found someone to head it up." He cleared his throat. "Teresa."

"Teresa? Teresa Lisbon?"

"Yes. That Teresa."

"Or wait is it Teresa Jayne now?"

"Lisbon. They got divorced."

"Divorced?!"

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike smut #marcus pike angst

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?)

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think! masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #Dr Reid #Spencer reid fic #Spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fics #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds smut #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n

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aiweirdness · 3 years

Text

AI Doesn't Understand Scale

One of my favorite ways to mess around with text-generating AI is to see what it does with new games that didn't exist on the internet back when its training data was collected.

OpenAI's GPT-3 models were trained with data that cut off in late 2019 which means that they're unaware of certain major world events, as well as of the latest internet memes.

Recently someone posted this hilarious bit of startup advice that had people posting terrible advice of their own:

I guessed that even if a neural net like GPT-3 can't possibly have seen this meme before, it would still be capable of giving terrible startup advice. So, I entered the entire above sequence of brilliant entrepreneurial moves as prompt text, preceded by the word [tomatoes] in brackets to help indicate this was supposed to be a short thing about tomatoes. Then I wrote "[" and let it write a short thing about something else.

DaVinci

Unsurprisingly, the largest GPT-3 variant was the best at catching on to the format. It made the leap that you could amplify eggs in a similar way. And you end up making $1 million on each egg!

[eggs] Same as the tomatoes. Eggs sell for $1 each. He uses 39 chickens to make a dozen eggs in 9 minutes. One hen can lay 355 eggs in 355 days. That’s 11.844 muffins a day. 9:11AM go to the best grocery store in town and buy ALL THE CHICKENS. Keep your receipt. 9:19AM - you take $9.8MM and buy back all your chickens. 9:30AM bring the chickens home. 9:39AM - sell the chickens back to the store for $9.8MM Speculation in eggs prices rises dramatically. If you buy all the eggs, you can sell them back and make $1MM on each egg.

Object permanence is not a strength of DaVinci's - keeping track of the status of physical objects isn't really in its job description. Its world is text.

[wigs] You don't understand scale. Buy one $50 wig. Use it for 6 months until it breaks. Throw it away. Buy another $50 wig. Use it for another 6 months until it breaks. Throw it away. Repeat until you have 182 wigs. Sell them for $50 each.

GPT-3 DaVinci does at least realize that you should end with profitable things happening.

[hammer & nails] You don’t understand scale. Use $100 to buy a hammer. Use the hammer to build with 4 nails. Burn the nail building for warmth. Repeat indefinitely.[chocolate milk] 1 cow gives 160 glasses of chocolate milk per day. A single glass sell for 10k. Lots of profit.[fork] You don’t understand scale. Buy 3 forks. Solve any problem that takes less than 3 forks.

Ada

I also turned to the smallest GPT-3 variant, Ada. It caught onto the format only partially. It got that it was supposed to be about tomatoes. And possibly about money?

[tomatoes] Use $1 to buy 1.5MM tomatoes.[Tomatoes] Do you intend to build a city? ?" Build $500,000 lots and then sell $1,000,000 lots. You want a house outfitted with 50 toilets, 50 outdoor shower systems along with 132 rooms.[tomatoes] They are botanical machines. Of all the tomato varieties, they only grow once! Traversing is their way of existence. They do this every day. They can do "rainbow fruit trees", making "green smoke and crumble flower."

Had I not stopped the generation process, I'm not sure how long Ada would have continued this next one. When people talk about researchers shutting down their AIs because of an unwanted outcome, this is often the kind of thing they mean.

[tomatoes] You don't understand that it's basically the same thing as a bowl of cereal. Potatoes in a can. Pour the potatoes into 35 quart jugs and fill jugs to the brim. Whisk soapmaker. In little tub layers stout ash alum pot paper. Divide into four equal parts of qt and rl into segments measuring 3.2 cm by 0.8 cm. Wash wire wool in 80-95% dewashed water and rinse under tepid water. Prepare three inches of hot coals, gently heat in center of stove 4 inches deep. Roll up soap in crinkly napkins two times to fit into form according to volume-diameter. To remove bubble wrap insert aprons. Heat a small hole as necessary per each pot. Dip each slip to the brush onto each pot, then collect the whole wrap under the string from the soap's top to bottom. Crackfish, partially hulled and cut to about 3 cm across, on an upright flake computer of sufficient volume. Measure and cut parts of soap into even thickness, add by 1 cm to diameter of each bowl. Take soap left out to apartments with sheets and wrap it up in a towel. Fill Sanitary Pail with clay pot suders, layers clay that been finished of three times, each surface 3 cm thick, to the top of the pails. Split soap in half 3 cm ¼ x 0.7 cm just below bottom of tub. Fill bathtub lengthways and level with edge. Lay soap at 4 cups depth, with top down. In the dryer attach film and cling wrap, then lay sheet-hooks 1.6 cm apart on the film. Place plastic apple cores on top of film. Lay film and cardboard pails on top of each other. Cap and secure, then dry for 7-10 days.

If you don't do the entire list, are you really cut out to be an entrepreneur?

I also decided to see what the two midsized GPT-3 models did with this startup advice. Become an AI Weirdness supporter to read the results as bonus material! Or become a free subscriber to get new AI Weirdness posts in your inbox.

#neural networks #gpt-3 #startup advice #you don't understand scale #tomato #bad advice #Sanitary Pail #Heat a small hole as necessary per pot #any problem that takes less than 3 forks #dewashed water

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aesethewitch · 3 years

Text

Potion of Sick-Be-Gone: Homemade Chicken Broth

If you’ve never made your own chicken broth, I highly recommend you give it a try. It’s extremely easy, more flavorful than store-bought broth, and full of magical potential. I almost never buy broth anymore since I know that my own is always better.

I make this regularly throughout the year, but I always try to bulk up before the weather turns. The winter months often bring stuffy noses and sore throats for me, so having a hearty broth to warm up and sip on anytime is a must. Full of nutrients and hydration, there’s a reason I call this my Potion of Sick-Be-Gone.

Please note: This isn’t a cure-all, and magic should never substitute actual medicine and a doctor’s visit. This recipe is just a nutritious way to boost your self-care before, during, and after sickness. Please, please, please see a doctor if you’re sick!! I can tell you from experience that this will not cure your strep throat... but it can help soothe the soreness and give you some energy. Staying hydrated and full of nutrients can shorten illness or make you feel less like death warmed over, but not cure it.

Ingredients:

Bones of a chicken, already cooked and picked over (you can roast your own, like I did, or you can get a pre-cooked chicken from the store; both work just fine!)

2 Large Onions

2 Ribs of Celery

5 or 6 Cloves of Garlic

2 Carrots (I often leave these out because I don’t like them... but I’m including them here anyways for anyone who does like carrots)

2 to 3 Bay Leaves

10 Fresh Sage Leaves, or 2 teaspoons Dried Sage

Salt and Pepper to taste

Optional additions: Thyme or other herbs and spices

Water to cover all ingredients

Instructions:

In a large pot, place your chicken carcass at the bottom. You can break it down if you want, but I often leave it as it is. Be sure to remove any meat that you still want to eat!

Cut your onions in half and add them to the pot, including the skins. Clean and break your celery in half, then add it to the pot. Crush the garlic and toss them into the pot, skins and all. If you’re including carrots, give them a good clean and rough cut and toss them in - no need to peel.

Add your bay leaves, sage, and any other herbs and spices you like. Add your salt and pepper. I usually do about 2 tablespoons of salt and eyeball the pepper. You can always add more later.

Add enough water to cover all of your ingredients.

Bring the pot to a boil and then immediately reduce the heat to a simmer. Cover with a lid and simmer for 4 hours, stirring occasionally. At hour 2, your kitchen will be filled with the delicious aroma of broth, but don’t be tempted to take it off the heat yet! It still needs longer to absorb all the flavor it can. At hour 3, if you find that your broth is still very weak, take the lid off and simmer uncovered for the remaining time to allow some of the liquid to evaporate. Skim any white film or bubbles off the top and discard. Be sure to enjoy the aromatic steam every time you take the lid off!

You’ll know the broth is ready when it’s a beautiful amber color and when it tastes exactly the way you want it to. Once your broth has simmered long enough, strain the liquid into a heat-proof container. Let it come to room temperature before storing in your container of choice. I like to run mine through a fine-mesh strainer into mason jars so that there aren’t any little bits floating around.

Store the broth in the fridge for up to 2 weeks. You can also use an ice cube tray to freeze the broth and store it all winter long. Use it as soup, in gravies, in sauces, and more.

Optional magic you can include:

Since the purpose of the broth is to be a potion of good health, you’ll want to keep your intentions clear as you chop and add your ingredients to the pot. Humming and singing is a sign of good health in my home - someone who is sick will not want to be singing, but someone who is healthy and happy will - so I like to play or hum music that reminds me of my goals.

Garlic and onion are strong herbs for protection and health. Use them as spell components to cast out sickness and bolster the immune system of everyone who drinks from the potion.

Similarly, sage is a cleansing and protective herb. As you add your leaves of sage (or your dried sage) to the pot, focus on cleansing the body and air of contaminants.

Bay leaves are commonly used in wish magic. I add these one at a time, naming sicknesses I often suffer from in the wintertime - clogged sinuses, sore throats, headaches. You know your body better than anyone, so think about what you usually feel when you get sick. Name them, and assign a bay leaf to the repelling of that symptom or illness.

You can repurpose this potion to be used for an ailment I refer to as “soul sickness.” You might call this the effects of the evil eye - a rash of bad luck, a heavy feeling, etc. - or even a curse. This potion can be used to break a curse or lift the negative effects of a spell. In your cup or bowl, simply stir counter-clockwise and envision the healing energy swirling and activating. As you sip, you will take in that energy. Let the warmth push out the cold and damp, cleansing you from the inside out. (Remember to ward/protect yourself afterwards!)

You could also use it as a post-ritual potion to restore your energy and cleanse yourself of residual negativity. I often feel drained after an intense ritual or spell, and I like to have a hot cup of broth on hand to soothe myself and enrich my body with the cleansing, protective vibes. In my experience, I regain my energy twice as fast!

BONUS: “But Aese,” I hear you say, “I don’t eat meat! How can I make this without the chicken?” My friend, I’m glad you asked. You can easily alter this recipe to be just vegetables! Simply take out the chicken and add more veggies to your pot. I recommend adding mushrooms of your choice and more onions and garlic for extra flavor.

If you make this recipe and enjoy it, please let me know!

Stay Healthy, Everyone! 💛

#my recipes #my spells #hearth witch #kitchen witch #green witch #home witchcraft #food #healing food #food spells #witch #witchblr #witchcraft #spells #soup #broth #chicken broth #bonus: vegetarian option #aese speaks

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sidespart · 3 years

Text

The Fall of King Romulus Chapter 7

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

The grey man was dead.

The grey man looked like he had been dead for some time.

What little skin he had remaining hung loosely from the bone. The eye sockets were empty, the patches of remaining hair were stringy and dirty. The skull had caved in around the crossbow bolt, revealing an awful wriggling mass of maggots on the inside. The stench of rotting flesh, which Roman had only been able to smell up close before, now filed the room, making him gag.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately for whatever glamour had made it so hard to see the details of the grey man’s face to return. He griped Mittens’ soft fur tightly with his good hand, earning him a disgruntled meow.

“What the fuck.” A voice muttered.

Unseen by Roman, a figure emerged from the doorway. One with skin bleached white under the lamp light and eyes that seemed to glow an unnatural shade of violet. Most of him was hidden under a dark cloak, save for the fearsome looking crossbow he held at his hip.

Had there been anyone left to see, Virgil would no doubt have made an intimidating sight. At least until he reached out one foot to poke at the grey man's body and recoiled with an undignified ‘eeeeeew!’ when the flesh gave way easily under the pressure.

Virgil had served more years then he cared to remember in the Finaley’ed army. He had seen many dead bodies. That did not make it any better to hear one squelch.

“Okay.” He called, “Okay, the coast is clear and I shot a dead guy.”

Roman heard a second pair of footsteps approaching before a new voice asked: “Did you retrieve the bolt?”

“The bolt that is covered in maggots? No. No I did not.”

“That’s a waste of resources.”

“That is not my main problem with the corpse in the basement Loga- no don’t touch it!”

“This looks like several months of decay- but there’s no surrounding detritus – do you think they moved it here? For what purpose?”

“I don’t care! Maybe it’s just…some, some unlucky bath house guy that got left down here. Who knows! Just help me find the damm cat.”

“Ah yes,” Roman could hear the disdain in Logan’s voice, “The magic cat.”

On the ground, obscured from their view by the network of pipes, Roman kept his eyes firmly shut. So long as his eyes were shut, he was listening to Logan and Virgil’s bickering and was seconds away from rescue.

But what if he opened his eyes and they weren’t there?

Julius had been found of testing his curses’ limits in this area. He would order Romulus to ‘see’ imaginary monsters in the shadows and then have him describe them. Or to recount conversations that never happened. Or to forget ones that had. None of this research had ever been particularly successful - he couldn’t be ordered to alter reality, even in the privacy of his own head – but Julius had never quite given up on it.

What if he had found a way to make it work?

Roman could hear his own heartbeat, the fast paced thump melding with the rush of water in the pipes that surrounded him, making his head throb and his whole body tremble.

What if it wasn’t Virgil and Logan there at all? What if it was Niki and Marcus back again, or Lucius himself, or no one at all?

What if it wasn’t even Julius doing it, just his own pain-addled mind playing tricks on him?

Romulus bit back a whimper, squeezing his arms tight around his middle.

This was too much for Mittens, who let out a yowl of protest and wriggled out of Roman’s grip.

“Oh!” He gasped, eyes flying open “Sorry!”

Mittens ignored his apology, scampering away through the open door and disappearing into the gloom of the corridor. There was a shout, a sudden rush of footsteps and a loud clang followed by a short curse as someone tripped on one of the pipes running along the floor.

And then two men were standing over him. Twin expression of relief morphing quickly into concern.

Virgil swallowed hard, the healers eyes flicking rapidly over each visible injury before meeting Roman’s own.

“Hey there Princy.” Virgil said softly.

***

The journey back through the corridors was a lot slower than their journey in. At least Logan had managed to retrieve one of the lanterns from the maintenance room so he was no longer relying on clinging to the back of Virgil’s cape to navigate.

When they had initially followed the….cat….to the bathhouse they’d thought their luck was beginning to change. It was coronation day, all businesses were closed; it should have been an easy matter to sneak in. When Virgil had scaled the opposing buildings for some roof top reconnaissance however he had come back grim faced – the upper floors were full of soldiers.

The design on their uniform matched the symbol Lucy had drawn the night before, and that Logan had identified in the library that morning. It belonged to the house of Orenlla in Notaleveale. It was not three ‘Vs’ as Lucy had thought, but a stylised version of the three largest peaks on the Sarindu mountain range, which marked the border between Notaleveale and the middle kingdoms. The man she had seen had apparently been wearing his clasp upside down.

Despite his success, Logan had left the library disappointed. Ornella was a noble house in Notaleveale but not one significant enough to warrant a permanent residence in the middle kingdom city of Steveange. It was surely possible to find out where the contingent were staying – the townsfolk seemingly obsessed with the movement of the visiting nobility- but the librarians he spoke to all gave different suggestions, if any at all. Checking every possible address was going to take days.

As desperate as Logan had been feeling, at least he didn’t return to the meeting point with a cat.

Patton had gone to see the crone – or ‘Mama Tay’, as she apparently insisted Patton call her - who had no new information as to where Roman had gone or why he had left, but who had offered to help find him anyway.

Using her cat.

(“I don’t like it.” Virgil said.

“Thank you Virgil.” Logan said, relived to find at least one of his companions hadn’t lost their minds.

“It’s blood magic”

“It’s a CAT!”)

Apparently, when Mittens had scratched Roman at the crone’s – Mama Tay’s – house, it had collected enough blood for a simple locator spell. And Patton, bless him, had agreed to swap a bushel of fresh food from the market for an hours use of the magical bard seeking cat.

Logan had despaired.

Logan wasn’t quite ready to eat his words (dogs could be trained to track blood scents couldn’t they? Why not a cat? There was a reasonable explanation somewhere, surely) but even he had to admit, Mittens had been a lot more successful than any of them.

After Virgil had returned from the rooftop shaking his head, Mittens had meowed piteously until they followed him to a side street, where thin slits set at ground level vented hot air from the bathhouse basement. The cat had slipped in easily, and after a few minutes debate, Logan and Virgil had wiggled their way in after.

They’d used a rope to reach the ground, finding themselves at the base of a set of stairs. There was a soft glow at the top, presumably the main floor of the house, enough to illuminate Mittens’ tail as he trotted off deeper into the basement.

It was only Virgil’s night vision that prevented them from breaking their necks on the next set of stairs, but eventually they had made their way to the a well-lit and uncomfortably warm maintenance room.

And to Roman.

An injured Roman. A glassy-eyed Roman who could barely stand and started shivering as soon as they left the heat of the room.

“He’s going into shock.” Virgil muttered, fixing his cape around Roman’s shoulders. He pulled it tight, wrapping the ends securely, but making Roman whimper in pain. Not knowing what to do, Logan just held the lantern higher. It illuminated the cut on Roman’s sallow face, and the bruises that surrounded it. Bruises which continued over his shoulders and no doubt down his back. Logan had seen the stick, lying next to the corpse, it’s end strained with blood from where the skin had split.

Stupidly, he wished he’d taken the time to break it into a hundred little pieces.

When they reached the first set of stairs, they paused to let Roman catch his breath. His breathing was shallow and he slumped heavily against Logan’s side.

Logan had once watched Roman hop on one foot for almost a mile rather than swallow his pride and admit he needed help. Logan exchanged a glance with Virgil, not bothering to keep the panic from his face.

Virgil let out a long exhale an reached over to squeeze Logan’s shoulder reassuringly, shifting himself to take some of the bard’s weight.

“He’s not going to be able to climb out the way we came in.” Virgil murmured.

“Obviously.” Logan nodded.

That was okay. They had a plan B.

As if on cue, a distant roar rang out above them, followed by quite a lot of screaming.

“Issat Patton?” Roman asked, staring into the darkness with unfocused eyes.

“Mmhmm”, Virgil leaned over and pushed some of Roman’s damp hair away from his face. “He was meant to come get us if we weren’t out in twenty minutes. I think he’s early.”

“There’s at les’ a dozen of ‘em.” Roman slurred “Niki said.”

“Patton can handle it.” Virgil said firmly, though his eyes flickered to the ceiling, betraying his nervousness. “Can you walk?”

Roman nodded, though he needed both their help to actually manage it. It was painfully slow going, with Roman unsuccessfully trying to hide a wince of pain with each step.

The first flight of stairs was relatively short, but by the time they had reached the top Roman’s shaking was so bad it was making Logan’s own teeth rattle. Still, they pressed on, almost dragging the bard between them to the base of the much larger set of stairs that would take them to street level.

Here the noises from the floor above were much louder – the clash of steel on steel reverberating down the stairs.

Logan stared at the next obstacle, uncertain. There were what amounted to five flights, with a small flat platform at each turning point. There was a banister running each side of the stairs, but it was missing in several places. What was there didn’t look like it would hold much weight.

Above them, there was an enormous crash followed by a bellow of almost inhuman rage.

“Frog mode?” Roman asked drowsily.

“Frog mode.” Virgil said grimly.

The berserkers of Krutova painted their faces with the green and blue mud from the rivers and swamps that saturated their forest home. Legend said they could lie in wait for hours, hidden under the water, using hollow reeds to breath before leaping out on unsuspecting enemies with a monstrous frenzied rage, dragging their opponents to a watery grave – assuming they didn’t, quite literally, rip them apart first.

Logan had never seen Patton paint his face. And the big man did not like to talk about his time at war. But Logan had seen him fight off more than a dozen men in a bar brawl without breaking a sweat. He’d once seen him wrestle a wild boar just for fun.

Still. The men upstairs were trained guardsmen, not drunks. And they were armed. And it had only been a small boar.

Virgil was clearly having similar thoughts, his fingers twitching against his side, his eyes constantly flickering up and then back towards Logan and Roman. .

“Go.” Logan said, “We’ll follow you.”

Virgil hesitated, but Roman nodded, straightening up as much as he could “We’ll be righ’ behin’ you. Go help dad.”

Virgil dithered a moment more and then let out all his breath in a rush, reaching for the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Okay just. Go slow. We’ll come get you when the coast is clear.” he waited until they both nodded before turning and all but leaping up the stairs. Roman held his pose until he was out of sight and then collapsed once more against Logan’s side.

The scholar adjusted his grp on the lantern, and hooked his other arm over Roman’s back. With a grunt of effort, the bard managed to sling his left arm over Logan’s shoulder, leaving his uninjured hand free to grip the rickety banister. Logan squeezed, holding him tightly. Roman groaned as he pressed against the bruises and welts that coated his back but Logan held firm.

“One step at a time.” the younger man said softly. “Okay?”

Panting, Roman nodded, giving Logan a sickly lopsided grin.

The staircase spiralled five times before reaching the top floor. They made it round twice before trouble found them.

“You.” The man growled.

The man standing between them and freedom was generically handsome, with large eyes and a strong jaw. He had a passing resemblance to Roman; with the same dark reddish brown hair and tanned skin. He wore a doublet of pink and navy, with the three peaked mountains embroidered in gold thread.

“Luc’-“ Roman gasped out, “don’t-“

“Shut up!” the Marquis de Orenlla snapped. He held a wicked looking dagger in one hand, eyes ablaze. “Is there no end to your duplicity? You foul traitor, I should have you hanged!“

Also like Roman, he seemed to favour being loud over being coherent.

With a grunt, Roman removed his injured arm from Logan’s shoulder and clung to the banister.

“Go!” he shouted to Logan.

Logan spared him an exasperated glance and threw the lantern at the Marquis head.

He went down with a screech, rolling back and forth on the small platform to put the flames dancing on his embroidery. The dagger skirted away and over the edge of the platform.

“You go.” Logan snapped at Roman, pulling out his sword and stepping between the two men.

Technically it was Roman’s sword, the one he had left behind in the inn. But Logan has been taking their training sessions seriously and it felt comfortable in his hands. He pointed the blade a the Marquis throat, effectively pinning him to the ground.

“Wow!” Roman laughed and lent to the side to grin at the flabbergasted noble “I trained him.” he said smugly.

“Hurry up!” Logan hissed and to his great relief, Roman did so, inching his way behind Logan and starting up the next flight of stairs.

“Stop.” The Marquis croaked out.

Roman stopped.

Logan turned towards him, frustrated “Roman, I’ve got this – just keep-“

Later, Logan would blame the stress of the situation for just why he chose to turn away from his prisoner at that precise moment.

Before he had chance to process what was happening, he was falling. Pain rippling through his ankle from a well placed kick from the Marquis. He dropped the heavy sword almost immediately, only for it to be snatched up by the larger man.

Logan felt himself being dragged through the air, and all at once he was pinned against the Marquis chest, sword now held at his own neck.

He saw Roman start back down the stairs towards them and felt the Marquis’ hot breath against his ear as he shouted: “Stop!”

Roman stopped. One foot frozen in the air, he lost his balance almost immediately and toppled to the side, reaching out instinctively to grab the banister with his injured hand, letting out a howl of pain.

The Marquis shuffled backwards, dragging Logan with him, dangerously close to the edge of the platform.

“I’m serious, Romulus.” the Marquis growled. “Not one more step. Or your friend here is going to be even shorter.”

“I'm average height.” Logan muttered sullenly.

The Marquis snorted in his ear. “Where? In the Dwarf kingdom?”

“Lucius!” Roman whimpered, he was hunched over, cradling his bad arm to his chest. “Please – he’s just a kid!”

“I am only three years younger than you!” Logan cried indignantly.

“Oh right.” Roman muttered. “My bad.” And then Roman straightened up. He hadn’t been cradling his arm at all – he’d been working something out of his tunic.

Roman’s dagger, a dull pointless object in desperate need of replacement, came hurtling towards them.

The Marquis let out a shout and instinctively raised the sword to bat the dagger away. Logan took the opportunity to wrench out of his grip, blindly kicking out behind him as he did so.

His foot made satisfying contact with the Marquis’ knee, sending him toppling off the platform, a resounding series of crashes and shouts echoing through the chamber as he bounced down the stairs.

Logan hurried towards Roman as fast as he could, not bothering to turn around and see how far the Marquis had fallen.

“Can you move?” he asked breathlessly.

“I don’t think so.” Roman admitted from his prone position at the base of the steps. Logan bit back a wail of frustration. Roman truly looked done in, his eyes battling to stay open, and there was no way Logan was going to be able to carry him up the-

“Logan? Roman?”

Logan hadn’t been to a city temple since he left his apprenticeship. He had no particular interest in the Gods or their silly squabbles. But the sight of Patton - working his way towards them with his clothing torn and face splattered with blood that wasn’t his own – well. Logan was fairly certain he could pass for an angel.

“You’re safe now.” Logan whispered, although he had no proof of the long term truth of that statement, “go to sleep Roman.”

Roman did as he was told.

Part 8

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #cretivitwins #i wasnt planning to get another chapter up so quick but im gonna have other things to focus on this weeek and aaaaah i just wanted to write #the rescue scene #EVERYONE IN THIS UNIVERSE IS A DISASTER BUT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER A LOT SO ITS OKAY #sidespart writes #ts: fall of romulus

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bump1nthen1ght · 4 years

Text

Sick Day (Demon x Reader)

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader/ Non-Binary Demon

Genre: Urban fantasy, Domesticity, Established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of sickness (fevers, body chills, headaches), but nothing graphic

Word Count: 2008 words

Summary: Your demon partner isn’t sure how to play doctor

A/N: Based of this prompt by @monsterkinkmeme

“It’s the first time you’ve dated a demon and it’s also the first time you’ve gotten sick since you’ve been together. A fever paired with a throbbing headache has you hiding in bed for most of the day, trying to sleep whatever bug you caught, off. Your demon lover, on the other hand, is beside themselves and has turned to Google and WebMD on how best to take care of you. They now think you are dying because of your symptoms and are devising a way to save you.”

The minute I saw this prompt I was immediately awash with PINING for a large demon partner to cuddle with and I knew I had to write it.

A week after finals, 7 months into your relationship with Motholg, your immune system gives up.

You had been leaving work, thinking the heat in your cheeks and the ache in your bones was a product of a 6 hour shift, walking to Motholg’s apartment for date night. The past two week had you cooped up, anxious and studying, meaning you barely were able to make time for your partner.

You probably should have expected it, it’s happened every finals week since high school; A couple days into break you get a high fever and are stuck in your bed for a solid 48 hours. But you thought that, perhaps, this year was the exception. After nearly passing out when handing Motholg their fresh-made lasagna, you knew you weren’t so lucky.

“Darling?”

You groan from your blanket burrito, eyes and sweaty forehead barely peeking into the dim light of Motholg’s bedroom. The thought of forming a coherent thought makes your brain pound, so you don’t even try.

“I’ve made you some...uh…”

The door creaks open, Motholg automatically ducking their head so their long horns don’t hit the frame. Their red, slitted eyes narrow at something steaming in a teacup. “Yas-mine? Jasmeen? Uh-some herbal remedy I ordered from your virtual shopkeep. It was touted by several women named “Brenda” to be the best thing for human illnesses.” Motholg’s hooves tap against the floor, just below the line of “too loud” for your migraine. You give another non-committal hum as they sit down on the bed. Despite being custom-made for their 7-foot stature, the bedframe still creaks under their weight. The top of your blanket sarcophagus is pulled back, revealing your disgruntled face.

Motholg helps you prop yourself up and hands you the teacup. You take a sip, quickly realizing it’s still quite hot, but power through anyway. The scalding water melts from your mouth down to your toes, abating your shivers, if only temporarily.

As you drink, Motholg’s fingers card through your messy hair, massaging your skull before resting their palm on your cheek. Their hand covers almost the entire side of your head, spotting a glimpse of a frown between their fingers.

“You’re even hotter than before and still quite sweaty. Would you like me to take the blankets?”

You shake your head, setting down your cup of tea.

“No, it’s probably just my fever breaking. It’s actually a good sign, despite how shitty I feel.” The warmth of your cocoon is beckoning you, your exposed chest and arms already shivering. “The blankets are good for my chills, but a big glass of ice water would be nice.”

Motholg raises an eyebrow, clearly perturbed by your backwards human symptoms. But they pat your head once more before sitting up.

“Of course, dear.” Motholg leans down to kiss your forehead, but is intercepted by the palm of your hand.

“Uh-uh, I don’t need you getting sick too.” Motholg scrunches up their face, then blows a raspberry into your skin. You retaliate by pushing away their face feebly.

“As if your human illness could fell me darling.” The sigh dramatically, pushing your hand away. “Though you are very sweet to think it could.”

You stick out your tongue and shove them. Motholg relents, blowing a kiss as they back out of the bedroom.

Your brain is beginning to drift into sleep when a glass clinks on the nightstand. Not bothering to open your eyes, far too tired, you mutter a “Thank you.” Motholg whispers a “You’re welcome,” as they lay on the bed once more. Their warm fur tickles your neck as they cuddle up behind you, arm thrown around your side and nuzzling their face into your hair. A hot breath and a slight nip of their extended canines only wills you to dreamland faster.

Motholg won’t go to sleep, only needing a full 8 hours every 4 days, but are rather content to lay beside you. They lovingly stroke your arm and sidle farther down under the comforter, whispering occasional sweet nothings and rocking you into unconsciousness.

--------

The dull red of the bedside clock pries open your eyes, a stark contrast compared to the pitchblack of the bedroom. Your brain is still in a fog, but given then the 3 AM flashing nearby, you’ve been asleep for about 9 hours.

And I’m about to sleep 9 more.

Motholg had left the bed at some point, but their warmth still lingers on the blankets. You close your eyes and snuggle in.

Slam!

But then the door slams open.

On a normal night, the noise might’ve jerked you upright , but your eyes simply roll over to the doorway. Your brain already misses unconsciousness.

Motholg stands, their new smartphone in hand as they breathe heavily.

“Darling, what did you say your body temperature was?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, slowly giving up on those peaceful 9 hours.

“99.7 last time I checked.” You tap your forehead with the back of your hand. “Probably less now. The sleep has been helping a lot. Good night.”

In an instant, Motholg is over to the bed, placing their hand on your forehead. You let out a disappointed sigh and try to go back to sleep anyways. The click of their hooves on hardwood, Motholg’s jittering shakes of your shoulder, and the strong smell of iron quickly eliminates that as a possibility.

You turn towards your partner, now noticing the sheen of liquid covering their hands. Red streaks follow their fingertips on their smartphone.

“Babe, why are your hands soaked in blood?”

“Goat’s blood, technically.”

Before you can even respond to that baffling answer, Motholg grabs your shoulder. The blood sticks to the short sleeves of your pajamas.

Damn, now I’ll have to wash this tomorrow.

“Here, it says the ritual-”

“The what?”

“-needs to be completed at 3:30 AM on a new moon.” Motholg pauses, checks their phone, then continues, “Yes, a new moon.”

Motholg begins to walk away, your arm still in their grip, but your resistance stalls them.

“Okay, Motholg, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? How the hell did you get goat’s blood at this hour?”

Motholg sighs and rolls their eyes, “Unimportant-”

You give Motholg a dissatisfied look, finally making them relent in heir tirade. They turn towards you.

“I fear for your life. I’ve consulted your online physician and your symptoms fall in line with many fatal illnesses.”

Now accepting that this is officially a conversation, you throw back your blankets and sit up.

“Do you mean WebMD?”

Motholg nods furiously and shows you their phone screen, tapping the glass with a long claw.

“See here? Full body chills are associated with pneumonia, so is a high fever. There’s also the possibility something is wrong with one of your organs. Not surprising, considering how squishy they are.” Motholg flicks their screen upward, a myriad of diagrams flips across it.

“Now, I know a couple of ceremonies my father used to perform to curse others with these illnesses, so I thought if I reversed the procedure-” Motholg pauses again, flipping to a new tab on their phone, “-So, I did some googling-”

Motholg pauses when your hand rests against their cheek. Their red eyes, which glow just slightly in the dark, look to you. You brush your thumb across their face, just barely grazing against the fur which starts at the base of their neck.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern really, I do. But these websites…” you pause, slowly pushing Motholg’s phone down and out of eyesight, “They really only show worst case scenarios. Honestly, they kind of just scare you into going to a doctor in person.”

Motholg’s eyes dart between your face and their phone, now pressed face down on their bed. They give off an aura of anxiety and stress, their hands fidgety and their hooves lightly tapping against the floor. “Here,” You pull up the covers, opening up the spot next to you. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while?”

“Oh, I don’t need to rest.”

“Just because your body doesn’t require it doesn't mean it won’t feel good. C’mon.” You pat the bed. “I think it will give you some peace of mind, keeping an eye on me.”

Motholg’s eyes shifted back to their phone, their brow furrowed. You pout your lips and slide your fingers up their chest. Their fur sticks and tussles under your touch.

“Babe, I would feel better if you relax, seriously.” You reach down to the bedside drawer, pulling out your sleep mask. “You can even bring your computer and get some work done.”

Hesitantly, they nod. You sigh in relief. Their hand unconsciously twirls your hair.

“I suppose….You would know about these things.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Motholg leaves to get their things, while you slip back under the covers. Before you put your sleep mask on, you shout to them.

“Make sure to wash that blood off!” You look down at your damp sleeve. “And could you get me a wet wipe as well?”

Motholg makes an affirmative noise, and you finally lay back and close your eyes.

Their body heat lingers above your as they sweetly wipe away the blood on your arm. You mutter a thank you. The bed dips as they down next to you, mattress bending as they adjust their laptop and fluff the pillows.

“Darling?”

“Hmmm?” You murmur, face still stuffed in your pillow.

“I just wanted to apologize for waking you. I feel very foolish for acting so paranoid.”

You flip your head to their side, keeping your mask on.

“No need to apologize, I get it.”

“Thank you for your understanding, but still, I feel so silly. To think a tiny sickness would force my emotions to overcome me.”

You slowly push up your mask, eyes peeking out from under the duvet. Motholg sheepishly picks at their keyboard, avoiding your eyes,

As disgruntled as it made you at first, Motholg’s droopy gaze stirred guilt in your gut. You wonder how many scenarios had run through their head while they googled, how helpless they must’ve felt. There might be a hole paced into the floor of the living room, given how flustered they were when they barged in.

You reach out to Motholg’s wrist, brushing your thumb over the back of their palm. Their red irises look over, and you think you see the tinies remnants of tear tracks at the corner of their eyes.

“Emotions aren’t a bad thing, they’re natural.” Grabbing the top of the blanket, you roll over to Motholg’s side. Their large body dwarfs yours and when you curl up against them, the tips of your feet barely meet the top of their calves. Their black fur is soft against your face, like a mixture of a plush carpet and a goosefeather pillow.

Oh good, they used the Tea Tree soap.

“I’d probably do the same if you got sick.” You reach your hand up to their chest, cording through their thick fur. “We’re just gonna have to trust the other’s okay, huh?”

With your chin tucked into their ribs, Motholg smiles down at you. A claw runs up the back of your neck, stirring up goosebumps but relaxing your muscles.

“I believe so, darling.” Their fangs jut out from their lips as they continue to rub your neck. It’s quite goofy looking, for a demon, and gets a chuckle out of you.

You crane your neck and Motholg meets you halfway for a kiss, consequences be damned.

“Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetling.”

You fall asleep with Motholg’s fingers curled in your hair, the slight tap of their claws on the keys, a simmering contentment in your heart.

--------

A week later, when you’re back to full health, you and Motholg are making dinner when-

“Ah-choo!”

You stop stirring the pasta and furrow your brows at Motholg. They’ve stilled, mid-movement while setting out the plates. Their face burns with embarrassment.

“A silly human sickness, huh?”

#monster romance #my writing #demon x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #monster/reader #fluff #domestic #monster x reader

277 notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 4 years

Photo

Here is a list of amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of January. Between the third month of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest and all the other fics that authors posted throughout the month, it’s clear that this was a great way to start off the year of bottom Louis fics! Happy reading!

1) Leave It All Here In This Bed | Explicit | 1071 words

One of Louis’s many sleepless nights.

2) Games Are Only Fun If You Win | Explicit | 1554 words

Louis and Harry have a bet. If Louis wins that means he's off laundry duty. If he loses well.

Let's just say Harry won't be complaining.

3) If It Makes You Feel Alive | Explicit | 1691 words

Louis is horny one night on the tour bus so he and Harry fuck while trying not to get caught by the others.

4) Beg Me Silently | Explicit | 2140 words

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

5) Birthday Wishes | Explicit | 2895 words

Note: This is part 3 of this series.

The one where Harry takes Louis to dinner for his birthday, and gifts him with a vibrating butt plug he wears to the restaurant. Fluffy birthday sex follows.

6) New Year, New Beginnings | Explicit | 3577 words

Note: This is part 4 of this series.

The one where Louis and Harry unexpectedly end up at the same New Year's party. Louis makes Harry jealous, and Harry shows him just how bad of an idea that is.

7) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3557 words

Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

8) Pits Of Love | Explicit | 3934 words

Harry smells Louis' sweat for the first time after they've moved in together. His alpha goes a bit wild.

9) First Blow Hits You Cold | Explicit | 3986 words

Louis wears a shirt with a big ass H on it for his livestream, and Harry really, really likes it.

10) Close Your Eyes And Surrender To Me | Explicit | 4209 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Harry hummed and pressed his lips to Louis’ forehead. “I am very stressed, but I also know you’re stressed and tired too.” He glanced to Louis’ face seeing the confirming nod. “But, if you’re sure you’re up for it.” Harry smirked, waiting for Louis to say it was okay before he laid the boy down on the bed and hovered over him. “I really love this color on you. You look so pretty. Always do.” He spoke quietly, rubbing his hands over Louis’ soft thighs and moving them to his tummy. He then moved his hands up to Louis’ hair. It had been a while since Louis’ last haircut and it was now long enough that he could tie it up in little ponytails and even little braids. Louis currently had two hair clips in his hair. One was gold with little stars on it and the other gold with a moon. “I love your hair princess. Do you feel pretty?” He asked.

11) P Is For | Explicit | 4349 words

Note: The pairing for this fic is Louis/Pedro Pascal.

Louis and Pedro, winter in New York, a coffee machine, and bilingualism.

12) Pull Out Your Heart | Explicit | 5028 words

He wants to apologise, the five letters sit on the tip of his tongue but he does not. It means nothing to either of them.

13) Loving You's the Antidote | Explicit | 5070 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending.

14) Sweet Talk With A Hint Of Sin | Explicit | 5095 words

“What the hell are you wearing?” Harry had the nerve to ask, and Louis bristled slightly.

“Well, what the bloody fuck does it look like?” Louis snapped, breaking his seductive demeanor momentarily because he was wearing this ridiculous get-up for Harry. He had thought that this would go over well.

And now that the moment was here, it was going anything but.

Harry’s brain seemingly malfunctioned, completely unbothered by the fact that he was now standing in an actual pool of red wine, or that there might even be broken glass directly next to his feet. He was focused solely on his boy splayed out on their bed. “Are those ears?”

“Yes,” Louis mumbled, reaching up to finger the burnt orange fur of the fox ears. “And a tail,” he said, shifting to lay on his stomach so that his perky ass was on display, showing the way his lube slicked hole had been prepped and was now hugging the impressively sized plug attached to the fox tail.

15) New York's Beauty | Mature | 5274 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love.

Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.

16) I Went Astray To Make It Okay And He Made It Easy | Not Rated | 5537 words

Note: This is a sequel to #17 on this list.

Harry makes sure to put on his blue truckers hat that has 'if you ain't a fisherman, you ain't shit' printed on it to hold back his hair out of his eyes. He remembers when he came home after buying it and Louis went on for days about much he looked like such a Dad. He made sure to fuck him hard that night and show him that he's a fucking DILF not just a Dad.

17) You Make My Heart Beat Like The Rain | Explicit | 6611 words

Note: This is the prequel to #16 on this list.

"You're stunning, eh?" Harry whispers, his Canadian accent thick with lust. It usually slips out when he gets horny because he knows it turns Louis on. Harry presses his lips into the curve of his neck. His hot breath makes Louis shiver. He opens his eyes and sees Harry's bigger, tattooed arms wrapped around him, completely engulfing his smaller frame—and, fuck, maybe he is up for it.

Why does his boyfriend have to be such a fucking DILF? He blames it on a twitter thread he read a few weeks ago.

18) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Explicit | 6837 words

Harry and Louis are going through a divorce after being together for 10 years, so Louis comes over to collect his things, and, well…what’s a little goodbye sex, just one last time?

19) A Place To Call Home | Mature | 8113 words

The thing is, he’s pretty sure he’s found home in a person in his life, someone who’s been essential in everything he’s done since he was seven years old. Through every broken bone, through every breakup, through every failure; through every triumph, personal and professional, and every goal he has scored in his time in Man U, there’s been someone there for it all.

That’s his best mate. Harry. A twenty-two year old with the kindest heart known to man, a slow drawl that is entirely too endearing, with the dreams to open up his own flower shop. A quiet and earnest boy with those he doesn’t know, and open and honest and absolutely lovely with those he loves.

It all hits him, really, the night of their final game of the Premier League. Again, timing is not his forté. They’re gearing up, ready to hit the field for the second half against Liverpool that determines their ranking in the League, when his brain decides to come online (after seventeen years, apparently), and conveniently supply him with the revelation that oh yeah, you’re kind of in love with your best friend.

20) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

21) It's A Game We Play In The Sheets | Explicit | 9426 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”

His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”

22) One Track Mind | Explicit | 9911 words

“You have a lot of friends, huh?”

Harry nods again. “A few.” The muscles of his bicep flex under Louis’ touch, and the alpha looks a bit drunk from the feeling, his eyes blinking slower and lips quirking at the corners. He’s leaning in, his alpha scent surrounding Louis from all sides.

“Mm,” Louis hums, squeezing his fingers tight, just to hear the sharp way Harry inhales. Then, when Harry is least expecting it, Louis returns the earlier sentiment—leaning up on his tiptoes and pressing his weight into Harry for balance, drawing his lips up close to Harry’s ear, and whispering, “Why don’t you go tell them goodnight.”

23) See You When I Get Home | Explicit | 10308 words

"What are you thinking about?" He repeats Louis' question from earlier.

"You." Louis' reply comes out in a moan. It shocks Harry, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to do, the right thing to say. He doesn't even know how to feel, or if he even heard Louis correctly.

"Me?"

24) Floating | Explicit | 10435 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.

25) I'm At Your Mercy Now (And I'm Ready To Begin) | Teen & Up | 10552 words

Where Louis' soulmark was leaked, Harry keeps his private. They're both famous popstars. Louis is waiting for his soulmate, Harry has a feeling it's him but Louis is completely oblivious.

26) You And I 'Till The Day We Die | Explicit | 10807 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)

27) Moonlit Sky Over Gentle Waters | Explicit | 11377 words

Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone — that he isn't sure he can have.

28) Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (And Never, Never, Ever Let Go) | Explicit | 11524 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when the demon catches feelings for louis, he wants to live.

29) If You're Feeling Lonely | Explicit | 12807 words

The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down, a familiar name catching his attention.

Harry Styles.

All he needs to do is confirm whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent left such a memorable impression on his body.

30) Want You To Play With Me | Explicit | 14335 words

"I'm quite not finished with you yet." Harry whispered right on the shell of his ears and squeezed the girth of his cock, making Louis shudder a sloppy puff of air as the tickling sensation ran through his spine, Harry was intoxicating. "Let me play with you a little more, Lou. I promise I'll give you what you want. Be my good boy, hm?" He slowly annunciated every word and licked a warm line on the nape of Louis' neck — Louis curled in his arms at that. Submitting himself a little bit more.

"Always wanna be your good boy." Louis whispered back and enveloped Harry's hand in his.

31) No Good Unless It's Real | Explicit | 17021 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

32) Tennis Court | Explicit | 18285 words

Louis and Harry are co-workers and Louis is sure Harry hates him because he always refuses to help him with his heats.

33) Joker Is Wild | Explicit | 18444 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.

34) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Not Rated | 20249 words

Louis almost calls Harry daddy. Cue denial, feelings, and way too much dirty talk.

35) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Mature | 24610 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.

36) Short And Sweet | Explicit | 29658 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.

37) Under Thorn And Bramble | Explicit | 31931 words

Note: The pairing of this fic is Louis/OMC. This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.

38) Pink In The Night | Explicit | 32324 words

His finger was tapping on Louis’ chat before Harry could even think about it, eyes reading over the last text he’d sent Louis. I miss you. Do you miss me?

Harry had felt so pathetic that December night, alone in the dark room of the Japanese apartment he’d been staying at, the strong smell of alcohol clinging to his clothes.

Louis hadn’t replied, but Harry wasn’t surprised; he had texted Louis a few times before while he’d been away, but there had never been a response.

It pained him to admit that this was their new normal.

39) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

40) If The Sun Don't Shine | Explicit | 36330 words

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

41) The Pirate And The Piper | Explicit | 38396 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

42) Begged And Borrowed Time | Mature | 40198 words

Prompt 60: Time travel AU where Louis somehow gets thrown back in time and ends up in the dark ages, during the reign of the Styles family.

43) I Ain’t Gonna Fence You In | Mature | 40645 words

Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old city boy who is forced to spend his summer before his senior year at his aunts farm. There, he meets Harry, a 19 year old country boy his aunt hired to help around the farm.

Maybe the farm isn't the worst place to fall in love?

44) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 43285 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

45) No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine | Explicit | 44963 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

46) Sedative Duty | Explicit | 46588 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

47) Just Always Be Waiting for Me | Explicit | 46837words

Note: Please be sure to check tags for any trigger warnings.

Harry Styles is a librarian at a private school who is not very devoted to his job but is very devoted to Louis Tomlinson, the resident English teacher, and has been ever since they met six years ago beneath a lonely streetlight.

Louis Tomlinson is a self confessed bookworm whose passion for Peter Pan, the literary classics and Harry Styles' happiness knows no bounds. He's self sacrificing, somewhat self loathing and haunted by a trauma he can't talk about.

Mutual pining abounds in this fic where a Peter Pan quote is never just a Peter Pan quote, caretaking is a love language and a platonic nude is never actually platonic. Louis has a kiss that belongs to Harry but he also has a painful past that might end up hurting them both.

48) Since The Future | Explicit | 48947 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

"It's done."

The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.

49) Dirty Laundry Looks Good On You | Explicit | 50581 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

50) Hamartia | Explicit | 66970 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Six years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to be struggling in the same way.

All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for them both to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.

51) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this. words

52) Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | Explicit | 73825 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.

53) Rogue | Not Rated | 94992 words

Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindness one he's ever met.

54) Chandeliers And Fake Smiles | Mature | 145010 words

On the brink of winning their first Grammy; up-and-coming rock band One Direction find themselves in the midst of the biggest scandal of their career - right before tickets for their world tour go on sale. in order to save their reputation, Louis Tomlinson must find it in his heart to forgive pop singer and heartthrob Harry Styles after his first impression rubbed him entirely the wrong way. after all, they cannot sell a relationship if it looks like they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #larry

220 notes · View notes

qitwrites · 3 years

Text

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Momo is 13 when she gets her first period.

Her parents had talked to her about it of course, told her it was completely natural and normal and healthy, and to come to them when it happens.

What nobody was prepared for was the pain.

She’s in the family garden creating some Lego blocks for herself when a bout of cramps, sharp and intense, roils through her abdomen and up her left leg. It’s so sudden she can barely call for help, and by the time the guards reach her, she’s on the ground sobbing, clutching her stomach and shakily taking in gasps of air.

They tell her it’s a combination of her diet and her genes. The high-fat diet has consequences, no matter how much she uses her quirk to balance it out and her father’s side of the family has a history of debilitating period pains. It’s just really bad luck, or so they tell her.

Of course, this doesn’t deter Momo from her plans of becoming a pro-hero. It’s all she wants. So, it’s what she chases and works for and earns.

The period pains get worse.

Class 1A doesn’t notice for the longest time. Momo is good at hiding it, at hiding how often she uses the loo for the first two days, how much pain she’s biting back in class, how badly she’s performing in training. She practices her smile in the mirror, sits through hours of class and training and socializing with a smile plastered on her face, and screams into her pillow at night. She spends those nights on her bathroom floor, alternating between throwing up and enjoying the cool feeling of the tiles underneath her.

Nobody realizes until Momo doesn’t show up for class one day.

Of course, everyone is immediately concerned- Momo isn’t one to skip. She takes the best notes, has perfect attendance, submits her assignments on time, the works. First period passes like that, and Aizawa even brings it up but nobody knows where she is. She hasn’t messaged a soul or called anyone about anything.

They’re on break after second period when Todoroki finds her on the staircase landing between the first and second floor.

Momo is on the ground, laying on her side. Her hand is in her mouth, blood dripping down her skin as she clenches it tightly between her teeth. Her other hand is wrapped around her abdomen, squeezing tightly. Tears stream down her face continuously, like an endless river. She’s muffling her screams, and it’s almost like she can’t even see Todoroki, her gaze piercing straight through him.

Todoroki is immediately alarmed, getting to his knees in front of her. He looks over her and can’t see any physical injuries, any signs of trauma.

‘Yaoyorozu,’ he says urgently, ‘what’s going on?’

Momo blinks at him, some of the tears dispelling. She finally sees him, recognizes him, and gasps. She pulls her hand away and the tears spill again.

‘I can’t-‘ she starts and sucks in a sharp breath ‘-I can’t breathe. I can’t- there’s too much pain fuck.’ Todoroki raises his brows- Momo never curses. Never. Not even when she stubbed her toe against the dining table and broke it.

‘We have to get you to recovery girl,’ Todoroki says, moving to help her up.

‘Wait,’ she groans. ‘I need- dammit, Todoroki let me borrow your left hand for a moment please.’

Todoroki complies without question, and watches as she takes it and places it on her abdomen above her uniform.

‘As hot as you can go,’ she says, ‘without burning my uniform. Please.’

Todoroki has no idea what’s going on, but he does as she asks. The effect is almost immediate- her breathing evens out, her eyes focus again, her body stops jerking in pain. It’s almost like she’s been sedated.

After nearly 2 minutes of sitting in silence, she gently takes Todoroki’s hand and places it on his own knee. She sits up gingerly and wipes away her tears, smearing some of the blood on her cheeks instead. Todoroki watches her carefully, ready to step in if she asks for help.

‘What happened?’

Momo looks at him with sad eyes. ‘It’s just my period cramps Todoroki. I’m ok, I’ll be alright.’

Todoroki quirks a brow. ‘You’re not ok Yaoyorozu, even I can tell just by looking at you.’

Momo is about to voice another protest when the door to the stairwell bursts open. Bakugou and Kirishima walk through with vending machine drinks in their hands and stop when they spot the pair on the floor.

‘Yaomomo?’ Kirishima shouts, running towards them. Bakugou trails just behind, eyebrows furrowed.

Momo plasters a smile on her face, trying to hide her bloodied hand.

‘What happened?’ Kirishima yells, crouching down with a concerned look in his eyes.

‘I-‘

‘She said it’s period cramps,’ Todoroki interrupts. In all honesty, he never grew up around his mother or his sister, so he has limited knowledge of periods in general. But with that limited knowledge also came the lack of a stigma towards periods in general. He doesn’t think anything of talking about it.

Kirishima’s concerned look melts into one of sad understanding.

‘Oh man,’ he says, ‘that sucks Yaomomo. They’re that bad, huh?’

Momo keeps her smile in place. ‘Really, I’m fine, it’s nothing I cannot handle, I’m ok-‘

A hand, absurdly gentle, pulls her bloodied one away from where she’s hiding it. Momo startles when she sees Bakugou holding her hand, giving her a tight look. He drops it gently and sighs. With a grunt, Bakugou sits down next to her, back leaning into the wall. Kirishima sits cross legged in front of her while Todoroki sits on her other side.

‘My old hag,’ Bakugou grumbles, ‘has period pains. More like period torture, I guess. She threw up every month on the first day. She’d have dark circles from the lack of sleep, and she’d slap hot water bags to her stomach 24/7. She even burned the skin there a few times. Painkillers didn’t do shit, there were no surgical options, not even birth control made much of a dent. She’d just grit her teeth and bare it every month.’

Momo listens silently, her hands slowly unclenching.

‘My moms,’ Kirishima pitches in, ‘are pretty chill with it. Well, Mama’s get really bad sometimes, but mom is usually ok. I’ve seen them bring each other ice-cream or squeeze each other’s shoulders. They sync up a lot too! Mama would always tell me to be nicer to mom, and mom would always tell me to give mama a kiss. They’re both so manly when they battle their periods every month.’ He offers Momo a gentle smile.

Todoroki hums. ‘I admit, I don’t know much beyond the biological part of it. But from what I can see, Yaoyorozu, this isn’t very normal, is it? This level of pain?’

Momo sighs, brushing away the fresh tears welling up in her eyes.

‘I, between my quirk and my genes, I have received the shorter end of the stick. Of course, I have looked into treatments. There’s nothing I can fix with surgery, and painkillers are usually ineffective. I have tried birth control measures, but they interfere with my quirk.’

Momo looks up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t think we talk about this enough, about heroes that menstruate. I can’t stop being a hero on the days I have my period, but sometimes, I’m in so much pain I can’t see straight. I-‘ she sucks in a stuttering breath ‘-I don’t know what to do sometimes. I want to stand on equal footing with my peers.’

Bakugou scoffs. ‘You shitting me? You’re top of the class, your quirk can make fucking canons, you tutored our fuckwit classmates into not failing miserably, and you did it all through this shit? What part of that is not equal with your peers?’

Kirishima nods in agreement. ‘I mean, Mina has some cramps too, so I usually bring her hot water bags when she asks. I read somewhere that spinach is great for period health, so I make us both protein shakes with spinach and banana! She says it helps.’

‘The iron in spinach must be beneficial,’ Momo muses, her face breaking into the first genuine smile of the day. ‘I usually up my iron intake as well. It does help.’

‘You’re right though,’ Todoroki adds, eyebrows furrowed, ‘we don’t talk enough about heroes that menstruate. Plus, the fact that you can’t seem to find a way to manage your pain without it affecting your life is proof that they haven’t put much thought into it, isn’t it?’

Bakugou grunts in agreement. ‘My hag volunteers at women’s shelters and tries to raise funds for pain meds and hygiene supplies and shit. It’s ridiculous. All of that shit should be free. No one asks to have a period every month.’

‘We can change that though,’ Kirishima pipes in, always the voice of positivity. ‘Look at the four of us, talking about it! Yaomomo, I’m sorry.’

Momo blinks, ‘What for Kirishima?’

‘For not noticing! You must’ve been in so much pain all this time, huh? I’m sorry for not noticing and doing more.’

Momo feels something cold press against her arm. She looks down to see Bakugou pushing his unopened drink into her elbow.

‘Take it, staying hydrated helps with the cramps.’ He stands up and brushes his pants. ‘Think you can stand?’

Momo takes a sip of the drink, relishing the cold fizzy burn as it slides down her throat. She takes a deep breath and stands, stumbling a little before catching herself. Todoroki steadies her around the elbow.

‘Can we take you to recovery girl?’

Momo smiles warmly. ‘I’ve been already. We’ve been working together on some remedies. It’ll take time, but I hope we can come up with something.’ Momo hums. ‘I should put more work into this. I can’t be the only hero that faces such bad period pains.’

‘That’s so manly Yaomomo!’ Kirishima beams. ‘I’m kinda dumb so I don’t think I can help with the research but let me know if there’s anything else I can do.’

Momo giggles into the back of her hand and they start moving towards class together. As they reach the top of the stairs another bout of cramps settles into her gut, and she clenches the railing with a white knuckled grip.

The boys stand around, guarding her, supporting her, giving her small smiles and reassuring nods. Todoroki offers her his hand again, and she quickly makes a heating pad and hands it to him, so she can continue to use it during class. Bakugou urges her to drink more water, and Kirishima keeps telling her how manly she is.

When they get to class, everyone crowds around her and she laughs softly, promising to explain everything later. The rest of the day passes by with little incident, and throughout it all, Todoroki takes the heating pad from her, heats it up and hands it back, hour after hour.

They talk about it in the dorms after class, and recounting her episode opens the floodgates for all the girls.

‘I get really bad migraines,’ Uraraka sighs, rubbing at her temples as if in anticipation. ‘It makes the nausea from my quirk even more unbearable.’

Jirou nods. ‘I get you. I have leg cramps, makes it impossible to use my legs during heartbeat surround. The speakers are too painful to use, and I’m never as stable as I’d like to be.’ She gives Kirishima a pointed look. ‘I’ll join you at the gym next time, teach me some leg moves. I want to get stronger.’ Kirishima gives her a huge thumbs up and a blinding grin.

‘My back gives out sometimes,’ Mina says. ‘I have this pain that burns in my lower back on a few occasions, it’s the worst.’

‘I don’t have a lot of physical symptoms,’ Hagakure pipes in, ‘but I do have PMS and depressive episodes. I’ve been trying to figure out a good med balance to fix it.’ All the girls nod at that, squeezing her arms and shoulders in silent support.

The teachers are brought into the loop too, and Aizawa gently berates Momo for not coming to him sooner.

‘We’re here to help,’ he says, eyes the gentlest she’s ever seen. ‘Learn to rely on your teachers more, will you? Such troublemakers , the lot of you.’

Momo makes hot packs for the girls after that, and the teachers don’t blink when one of them passes it to Todoroki in the middle of class as the boy just heats it the appropriate amount before passing it back without so much as a hiccup in his work.

Bakugou sends Momo articles and tips from his mom about pain management and dealing with cramps. He says it’s because he wants her to be in top condition when he beats her for #1, otherwise it won’t, in his eloquent words, mean jack shit. Momo tries some stuff out, happily surprised when her symptoms are even the slightest bit reduced. Kirishima offers to make them all spinach shakes, and they take him up on that every so often, complimenting his limited cooking abilities.

And on the days Momo is back on the bathroom floor heaving into the toilet, Jirou holds her hair back. Mina cuddles her on the couch when her hands are clenched as she bites back tears, and Ojiro sits by her feet, a reassuring presence to depend on if she ever needs something.

They’ve still got a long way to go as a society, but it’s a start. And a damn good one at that.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha: thicker than blood #momo yaoyorozu #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #class 1a headcanons #so today in thicker than blood #lets talk periods!#there's no talk of blood or anything #it's more about period cramps #and how period pain manifests in different but very painful ways #i've thought about this a lot you know?#like the female heroes can't just take a few days off every month on their period but they'd still be in so much pain #and in my country period products are still taxed as luxury items which is a load of fucking horsecrap #i have feelings about this because my own periods are pretty shite tbh #i just wanted to write about the boys actually caring #and having an open discussion about this #and give momo some love because she's actually great???

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percabeth4life · 4 years

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Sorry to just jump in here and drop this on you, but i saw a blog once call percabeth an abusive relationship???? and i was like ?????? but none of my friends read pjo so i cant ask them for thoughts, how about you?

Oh boy anon so this is a thing.

Percabeth is abusive is a common thing those that hate percabeth or ship something else and want to validate it say, and why I have the “anti-percabeth” tag blocked.

I’ve seen people say Annabeth just giving him a dirty look was abuse, people will reach for anything done between them that isn’t perfect, usually to justify why their ship is better.

Honestly, I’m open to most ships. Percabeth is my main but if you ship things that’s totally fine, even if I don’t like it I won’t say you shouldn’t ship it. I read non-Percabeth ships, but a lot of people feel a strong need to insist a ship is abusive if they don’t like it.

It’s fine to just not like a ship.

First off lets preface all of this with a warning that I’ll be discussing abuse here so if that’s upsetting skip it.

It got long, like very long (word count is nearly 3k), so it’s all under the Read More, there’s a TLDR at the very bottom.

Now then, what is abuse?

There are two definitions that pop up with a quick google search

Use (something) to bad effect or for a bad purpose; misuse.

Treat (a person or an animal) with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly.

If you look up the legal definition (law.cornell) used to define abuse there are more options, but I’m leaving out 2, 3, and 4 cause 3 and 4 def have nothing to do with this and definition 2 is in regards to child abuse.

Abuse, generally: physically, sexually, or mentally injuring a person.

Now if we want to go deeper in lets define physical and mental abuse. I’ll be leaving out sexual as that has no bearing on this particular situation.

Physical abuse is defined by healthyplace.com as

Non-accidental use of force that results in bodily injury, pain, or impairment. This includes, but is not limited to, being slapped, burned, cut, bruised or improperly physically restrained.

Now lets expand on this.

Something that is pointed to specifically is the mentioned intent. “Non-accidental”. It must be purposeful harm.

Now, I will also point out that Physical abuse doesn’t necessarily say the intent needs to be abuse, but as my lawyer parents state it simply needs to be “intent to harm” and it gets labeled abuse. The legal definition (given above) agrees, it is simply that it needs to be purposeful harm. But then we need to define this harm, especially the bodily injury, pain, or impairment.

Bodily injury is defined by Merriam Webster as

any damage to a person's physical condition including pain or illness

Now what is damage?

loss or harm resulting from injury to person, property, or reputation

So then harm is defined as... damage, so the definition I prescribe to (and I asked my lawyer parents to confirm, unfortunately I have no link for that).

Causes pain (pain defined as suffering)

Pain is defined by Merriam Webster as

a localized or generalized unpleasant bodily sensation or complex of sensations that causes mild to severe physical discomfort and emotional distress and typically results from bodily disorder (such as injury or disease)

a basic bodily sensation that is induced by a noxious stimulus, is received by naked nerve endings, is associated with actual or potential tissue damage, is characterized by physical discomfort (such as pricking, throbbing, or aching), and typically leads to evasive action

mental or emotional distress or suffering

Finally impairment is

diminishment or loss of function or ability

(all of the above definitions except harm are pulled from Merriam Webster linked with Bodily Injury)

Okay, so now lets consider it, physical abuse needs to cause damage to someone, it must be purposeful damage though the intent to abuse does not necessarily need to be the intent. So if your actions do not intend physical harm then it is not physical abuse.

So then, do Percy and Annabeth have a physically abusive relationship?

Lets start with the classic one that everyone likes to bring up, the Judo Flip.

First off, do Judo Flips hurt? [sourcing (1) (2) (3)]

They CAN hurt if done with that intent, but if your intent is to not harm and you are trained properly, No Judo should not hurt. Anyone properly trained in Judo should know how to prevent harm. (1, 2)

On top of that, the first thing anyone learning Judo is taught is how to fall.

All judoka learn to fall safely, by rolling and breaking their fall with Ukemi. This breakfall absorbs the impact of the throw. (3)

Percy should have the basics of this down seeing how he was already in matches (mentioned in book one prior him being claimed) in his first summer at camp, after four years he’s definitely got the basics down.

Therefore, the Judo flip did not intend to cause harm, nor did it appear to. Despite that it was on stone, and Annabeth had him pinned, Percy didn’t even show discomfort. He laughed.

On top of that, when Annabeth last saw Percy he had the Curse of Achilles. As far as she was aware, he still had it. A requirement of Physical Abuse is the intent to cause harm, every factor here shows that there was no intent to cause harm.

This scene was not physical abuse, it was just bad writing.

I can think of other scenes, only a few, before they were actually in a relationship. In book three Annabeth punched Percy in the stomach when he didn’t catch her hint that he should ask her to dance

She punched me in the gut. ‘Me, Seaweed Brain.’

‘Oh. Oh, right.’ (TTC, chapter 1, page 8 of book on my copy)

There doesn’t seem to have been any harm done as he doesn’t even mention it hurting, not even a pause, just went “oh yeah her”. So it was likely a light punch, the kind friends do that don’t hurt just catch attention. Annabeth has been trained since she was 7, she should know how to throw a punch without actually causing harm.

If anyone wants to bring up other examples, feel free, I’m not combing the books right now for examples but I will reply to them (preferably in asks so this post doesn’t get super long...)

I cannot think of any examples of Percy hitting/punching Annabeth nor any other kind of physical interaction, if someone wishes to bring one of those up feel free.

Does this mean that I think they should be hitting each other despite the fact that it’s clear there is no intent to harm?

No, I don’t really think they should be hitting each other.

But! An important thing there is their own boundaries, not mine. I would not be up for being hit but I do share friendly punches with my friends, which is similar in intent. It’s simply that they’ve been trained to fight and have to a lot to survive so their boundaries for what is “harmful” are different.

But that’s a whole different issue and a different academic essay :)

I don’t believe there is any physical abuse in Percabeth.

Moving on, Emotional abuse (which Psychological and Verbal added as they all connect).

Emotional abuse is defined by helathyplace.com as

Any act including confinement, isolation, verbal assault, humiliation, intimidation, infantilization, or any other treatment which may diminish the sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth.

It also covers Psychological abuse and verbal abuse. Psychological abuse does not have a definition available on the site I’m using but it does have a description. If you’d like to read the description go (here). I will add a detail of how it works though

Psychological abuse signs and symptoms may start small at first as the abuser "tests the waters" to see what the other person will accept, but before long the psychological abuse builds into something that can be frightening and threatening.

Verbal abuse definition defined by healthyplace.com is

Any language or behavior that seeks to coerce its victim to doubt their perceptions or their abilities and subjugate themselves to the abuser.

So considering that, we note another important factor here, they also have intent involved. “Test the waters” and “seek to coerce” for Psychological and Verbal abuse.

Emotional abuse is different in that it does not specify intent, except every item mentioned is purposeful. If you’re confining someone then you’re doing that on purpose, you cannot easily accidentally do most of that. Those actions carry intent, even if the intent is not abuse.

Now then, is percabeth emotionally abusive?

Once again I’ll start with the big thing people point out, the Judo Flip.

I’ve seen it point out that it could be seen as humiliation.

Annabeth grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He slammed into the stone pavement. Romans cried out. Some surged forward, but Reyna shouted, “Hold! Stand down!”

Annabeth put her knee on Percy’s chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn’t care what the Romans thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest—a tumor of worry and bitterness that she’d been carrying around since last autumn.

“If you ever leave me again,” she said, her eyes stinging, “I swear to all the gods—”

Percy had the nerve to laugh. Suddenly the lump of heated emotions melted inside Annabeth.

“Consider me warned,” Percy said. “I missed you, too.” (MOA, chapter 2, page 19 of my copy)

If you look at the scene itself you’ll see that Annabeth is very emotional right then, she just got her boyfriend back, she’s exhausted from months of worrying, she’s emotionally very strained, and she judo flips him as all her pain just fills her.

A lot of people with anxiety or high stress or similar issues have times when the anxiety doesn’t affect them during the time they’re stressed, but right after the stressors are gone.

It’s clear that’s what happened here, all her feelings that she’d been burying to work just filled her.

And Percy smiles up at her and says he missed her.

It’s clear from her own comment that she didn’t care what the Romans thought (said right after they almost attacked her) that her thoughts were not on how this looked for Percy, but for her. She knew it looked bad for her to attack him.

She wasn’t trying to embarrass or humiliate Percy, she was trying to get all that pain and stress and anger out. I don’t like how it was done, but it did not physically harm him (nor did she expect it to) and it clearly did not humiliate him.

He smiled and said he missed her.

He understood what she was going through, and made it clear he loved her.

I still think it was bad writing, but it’s not humiliation, nor is it emotional abuse.

Another thing I’ve seen pointed out is Annabeth’s nickname for Percy.

Seaweed Brain.

I will start this with a reminder that both of their nicknames for each other were originally meant as insults.

Wise Girl was first used by Clarisse and it clearly upset Annabeth, it is used twice by Clarisse actually.

Once in TLT, when she and Percy first meet, and once in SOM when they’re attacking Charybdis.

Percy in comparison uses Wise Girl twice as well, both in TLT, once when he was mocking her at her coming along on the quest and once when they were saying goodbye. It’s also used once in HOO, in BOO.

Honestly it’s not much a nickname... only used by Percy 3 times in all the (main) books. There are like 3 other cases in all the side stories and MCGA combined.

Annabeth uses seaweed brain a total of 41 times in all the books combined, in PJO it’s used 25 times, 22 by Annabeth, and HOO it’s used outloud 9 times, all by Annabeth. On top of this, while the PJO cases were all outloud, the HOO cases were not, with 2 (making the total 11) used only in Annabeth’s thoughts.

Seaweed brain is used in TLT 6 times, 5 times by Annabeth.

The first time is when Annabeth is joining the quest, then when he says things are going fine so far when they start the quest, then when at the Ride of Love, then when Annabeth calls him her friend, then when they’re saying goodbye.

If you watch the progression of it it’s the same as with Wise Girl, though used more often. It starts as an insult, and then becomes fond and a term for her friend by the end of it.

I don’t particularly want to label every single instance, but a quick overview of all the PJO books is that it’s used by Annabeth in annoyance a total of 4 times, in fondness/exasperation/worry 18 times. Those times of annoyance were all in books 1 and 2, the time of exasperation (1 of the 18) was in book 2.

The vast majority were done out of worry, and the rest when she was being soft.

It’s not meant to diminish his intelligence, nor is intended as an insult beyond book 1 and 1 instance of book 2. It is rarely used because he’s being ignorant either. You can make an argument for the first case in book 3 being done because he wasn’t catching her hint to dance and thus was mocking his inability to catch a hint, but it was mixed with fondness from my read.

Overall the nickname is not intended as an insult anymore, it has become a friendly name for Percy that shows how fond Annabeth is of him. She does not have nicknames for anyone else.

In HOO all the cases were relatively fond, with one that she didn’t say outloud being used when she was cheering Hazel up by telling stories about Percy (ah the benefits of long time friendships, you get to tell all the good stories).

In the end I think that it’s cute that they have a nickname for each other, and though there could be more flattering ones, the intent that Percy understands from it and the intent Annabeth uses it with clearly show that it is meant in fondness and was a gradual change from a name that was meant to poke at him. It’s meaning is is fond and loving and it was only used 3 times prior with any other (negative) intent.

Also friends give each other nicknames, and commonly they are meant to be teasing.

There is one other thing I’ve seen brought up, being Annabeth thinking that she needs to keep Percy on his toes (specifically about Rachel in this case) when they’re in Tartarus.

‘Rachel?’ Percy asked. ‘You mean our Rachel? Oracle of Delphi Rachel?’

‘That’s the one.’ Annabeth suppressed a smile.

Whenever she brought up Rachel’s name, Percy got nervous. At one point, Rachel had been interested in dating Percy. That was ancient history. Rachel and Annabeth were good friends now. But Annabeth didn’t mind making Percy a little uneasy. You had to keep your boyfriend on his toes. (HOH, didn’t bother to check chapter number, page 109 of my copy)

So here we see that Annabeth is “keeping him on his toes” but in context, they’re sending a note to Rachel through the Hermes temple in Tartarus. It was not Annabeth bringing it up to mess with him, it was her smiling at the little moment where he was thrown off about Rachel.

Frankly, in general Annabeth doesn’t do anything like that. She occasionally teases Percy but he always teases back. After the Rachel stuff in book 5 things were chill with all of them. We’ve seen no evidence of Percy being uncomfortable with Rachel being brought up, nor Annabeth thinking that it should be brought up for that purpose.

If anything Annabeth has shown some serious abandonment issues in fearing that Percy would leave her over other girls (she needs some therapy after that mess of a childhood but Khiron apparenlty doesn’t think so).

I see this as a case of bad writing with nothing else supporting it, including the scene it happens in.

Even had it actually been something supported by other instances, in the context she says it in it seems more like teasing over an ex where the break was amicable and everyone is still friends, which isn’t abusive or manipulative.

It’s just that Rick is tasteless.

So is Percabeth emotionally/psychologically/verbally abusive? No.

If someone wishes to bring up other instances shoot me an ask.

So in conclusion,

I do not see how it is abusive. There are elements I do not like, and some parts that in my own relationship I wouldn’t be okay with. But in Percy and Annabeth’s relationship they have clear boundaries, they are both more than capable of stopping the other if they do something that upsets them. They have both shown fondness towards the others actions even if it is something that we don’t approve of in our relationships.

If Percy showed upset at her actions that would be different. But we literally see into his mind and he shows no upset at her words or actions. He is fond, he is understanding, and he responds to each instance of teasing with teasing of his own.

Notably I never see people saying Percy is abusive, only Annabeth.

I get a feel that people ask for flawed characters then crucify them if they’re not flawed in easily likeable ways. Annabeth is not a perfect character, I don’t like everything she does, but she is a realistic character and should not be demonized.

TDLR: Annabeth has never purposefully harmed Percy, and Percy has never purposefully harmed her. Neither have verbally/emotionally/psychological taken actions with the intent of harming the other when in their relationship or since becoming friends. There have been instances of upsetting the other but they talked and it clearly was not meant to hurt the other but because they themselves were hurting

Percabeth is not abusive

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wiyodreamz · 3 years

Text

𝑽𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 [04]

⌜Nari is a college student at Seokhye University. One day she got off on the wrong foot with Seonghwa, throws her coffee on him and curses him out. Later that day she learns about the internship she signed with Hwa Corp. That same day, she learns that the same guy she threw her coffee at, is the CEO of that company! How will things go for Nari if she has a target on her back from that encounter? ⌟ Office AU

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Contains: fluff, angst, smut, alcohol drinking, cursing, and more as the story goes on.

Tag list: @seonghwaskitten @reeateez

Warnings: another make out session, dani being sort of annoying, yunho interrupting an almost smut scene (yeah these r the warnings)

A/N: it’s been 84 fucking years. And I’m finally back writing this. Also Nari and Seonghwa are in a established relationship in this chapter :)

Things between Nari and Seonghwa have been going smoothly. They’ve been talking to each other more and a relationship has started to spark between them. Nari has managed to even get into the Top 3, since Seonghwa isn’t making it very difficult for her. They even found a new secretary for him to replace Ms.Lee. But Nari is kind of supiscious of her.

Nari was finishing making herself a cup of coffee in the break room, when someone walked in.

“Do you mind making me some tea?” She looked up and saw Seonghwa with a reusable cup.

“Yeah sure” she said as she smiled and made more hot water. “So how are you liking your new assistant?”

“She’s not as fast with her tasks as Ms.Lee, but she gets them done on time at least” he sighed as he crossed his arms.

“Maybe she has to get used to this place first. It may be different from her different job. Give her a month or two and she’ll get the hang of it” she said as she grabbed a tea bag and poured the hot water into his reusable cup. “Anyways here’s your tea.”

“Thank you” he said as he grabbed the cup from her hands, their fingers grazing a little. They stared at each other and Seonghwa started leaning in closer and closer until she felt his breath on her lips, but someone walked in before he could get a chance to kiss her.

“I didn’t expect you two to be in here” Dani said as she walked by the coffee maker to make her a cup of coffee. She then raise en eyebrow at their flushed expressions. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No! I’ll see you around Mr.Park!” Nari said as she bowed at him and left the break room while sipping her coffee.

Seonghwa then bowed towards Dani and left the break room to go back to his office to finish some paperwork.

“There’s something off about them....” Dani said quietly as she looked at the two of them.

Nari was finishing the last of her report that was due this week. She was typing away with her headphones in and someone suddenly pulled them out.

“What the...” she trailed off and turned behind her and saw Yunho.

“After you finish your report, do you want to go get lunch together?” He asked and she nodded.

“Sure, I just need to finish this last sentence and I’m free to go.”

Nari pressed the ‘submit’ button on her report and then grabbed her bag. “Let’s go. I know this really good place we can go eat at.”

The two were now seated in front of each other with a plate of pizza in front of them.

“How’d you get off of Mr.Park’s bad side?” He asked curiously as he took a bite of his pizza.

“I don’t know. I got lucky I guess” she lied as she stared down at her plate.

“I heard this weird wacky rumor is that you guys are in a relationship” he said and that made her choke on her cola, which made him scared. “Are you okay Nari-ah?”

“Uhm...yeah” she said and took a bite out of her pizza. “Where exactly did you hear that?”

“From Dani. But you really can’t believe what she says without proof, so she’s pretty much telling a tale” he answered.

Nari then sighed in relief and looked up to her friend. “If something was going on between us, I’ll tell you first then Yunho.”

Yunho smiled and continued eating his food. Nari felt bad for lying to him, but it wasn’t a good time to tell him, especially since Dani is highly suspicious of them. She then shook out the thoughts from her head and went along eating with Yunho.

It was now 4 in the afternoon and Nari came home from work. The full paid internships will be announced next week and she was nervous. Even though she was dating Seonghwa, she still wants to prove that she can work better.

Nari heard a knock at her front door and went to open it. She turned the knob and there stood Seonghwa with a bag of ingredients.

“I remembered from a few days ago you were craving stirred udon, so I came to fix it for you” he said with a smile. He was changed out of his suit and now was wearing a white buttoned shirt tucked into some black pants. “Can I come in?”

Nari cleared the way of her front door and he went into the kitchen and put the bags on the counter. Nari sat on one of her bar stools as she watched Seonghwa rummage around her kitchen for a pot to boil water in.

“You need to invest in some cookware” he said as he found a pot to boil water in.

“I would but I burn water” she joked as he chuckled lightly as he put the pot on the stove.

“Since it’ll take a while for the water to bowl, how about we do something to pass the time?” He asked as he walked over towards her and biting his lip.

He grabbed her waist and leaned in. The kiss started out slow and gentle, and then it went to heated in a second. Nari wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up on the island. His lips then went down towards her neck and leaving red marks along her neck. She whimpered as he found her sweet spot.

“Found it” he whispered as he went back to leaving marks on her. Nari’s hands traveled down towards his shirt and unbuttoned some of his buttons, as Seonghwa was in the process of trying to remove her pants.

Before he could successfully take of her pants, a knock interrupted them. They jumped at the knock and waited for the person to say something.

“Nari-ah! I have the notes you let me borrowed last week! Are you in there or are you sleep?”

It was Yunho. Nari quickly jumped off the counter and fixed her pants that Seonghwa almost took off.

“It’s Yunho! You have to hide!” She whispered as Seonghwa hurriedly buttoned back up his shirt. Nari pushed him in the closet in her living room, where she usually keeps her old coats and jackets and other things.

As she closed the door, she heard the code being entered and Yunho entering. “Were you sleep?”

Nari shook her head and then hid her neck after she saw it in the mirror in the living room. “I wasn’t sleep, I was just busy putting something in the closet.”

He put the notes down on her coffee table and walked towards her. “Why are you holding your neck? Did you strain it?”

“No. It just hurts from me overworking” she said. “You should go. We have exams and you should be studying really hard.”

“Yeah, but I’m also excited to see who gets the paid internships. I hope me and you get it” he said.

“Same” she agreed. Yunho bid a goodbye and closed the door. Nari looked out her window to make sure he was gone from view and then Seonghwa stepped out and looked over at the stove and the water was now boiling.

“Looks like it’s time for me to cook and after we finish eating, we can continue what we were doing before Yunho interrupted.”

It was now the week of the paid internships. People have been working hard over the weeks to get it, but Dani kept pushing the objective that Seonghwa and Nari are indeed dating, but people just called her crazy.

Hongjoong came by her desk and gave her a coffee. “I know about you and Seonghwa.”

Nari choked on her coffee and looked up at him with wide eyes. “H-how’d you know?”

“Did you forget we’re friends? He told me about it a few nights ago over a drink” he said. “Make sure to keep it a secret if you get the internship, the women here love to talk.”

Nari thanked him and continued to drink her coffee. Sunji and Dani came back from a meeting they were in and sat down at their desks.

“Sunji-ah, didn’t you see Seonghwa and Nari eating dinner together a few days ago?” Dani asked as she whispered towards Sunji. Sunji looked nervous as she looked over to Nari.

“Dani, I don’t know about this...” Sunji trailed off and then was cut by Dani saying something rude to her.

“Why is so crazy to find out stuff about me?” Nari asked as she bit her lip nervously.

Now it was 4 P.M. everyone huddled around Seonghwa to found out who got the paid internship. Nari held her hands nervously as he looked over the paper.

“You guys worked hard over the months, but like I said in the beginning, I’m choosing half of you. So if your name is called, you got the internship.”

“Choi San, Jeong Yunho, Kang Sunji, Moon Nari, and Lee Dowoon. Those 5 worked harder than anyone I’ve ever seen and it was only fair to choose them” he said.

Nari was happy that she was chosen. She looked over towards Dani who looked angrily.

“Yah! Mr.Park! How could you choose Nari over me? I worked harder than her in all the things. I did every task I was supposed to do!”

“If you call spreading rumors, talking bad about your other peers, plus my employees I hired. Then I guess that’s your definitions of tasks” he said as he crossed his arms. “My decisions are final.”

Nari smiled at Seonghwa and then Mr.Park and grabbed her things. When she was on the first floor of the office, she felt a shove behind her and an angry Dani.

“Did you really sleep with Mr.Park just so you could get the internship?” She asked angrily. “I never knew the Moon Nari is that kind of girl.”

“Dani just admit it. You’re just angry you couldn’t get what you want this time. And besides, you barely did any of the work, Sunji did your work” Nari said and walked out of the building.

“You’re going to regret saying that Nari.”

“You’ve done well these past months” Seonghwa said as he took a sip of his wine.

Nari had an identical glass and took a sip of hers as well. She was too distracted on what Dani said to her to even hear what Seonghwa was saying to her.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he caressed her cheek worriedly.

“Hmm. Yeah, just thinking about some things” she said.

“What were you thinking about?” He asked.

“Nothing. It’s just what Dani said to me.”

“What did she say?”

“Oh it wasn’t important. Just her talking nonsense.”

“How about I go run the two of us a nice, warm bath and fall asleep for the night. How does that sound?” He asked and she nodded.

“That sounds nice.”

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa fic #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa smut

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

Text

Kinda Wish She Were Dead

Heather Series Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Bonus! Readers Card Confession Series Playlist

Summery: During a night out on the town with the girls, Reader see’s something she wasn’t supposed to.

Words: 3.7k (my longest yet!)

Warnings: Swearing, a few sexual innuendos, Cheating, Mentions of Alcohol, and a fabulous right hook.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Carmichael, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one....turn it up! Also, the song that inspired this chapter. For the meaning of the song, not that fucking boat scene.

~~~~

It’s hot.

Like “laying naked in the middle of your apartment with the air cranked and every fan blowing on you” hot.

I’m one of the lucky ones.

My old apartment was renovated to include central air a few years before I moved in.

Still, the humidity was smothering.

So why was I putting a full face of makeup on, knowing damn well I’m gonna sweat it off before the end of the night?

Because why the hell not?

It’s the first time I’ve made plans with the girls in months, and I deserve to feel pretty, even if only for an hour or two.

My therapist tells me I’m making progress.

And it finally feels like I am.

I don’t hate the day before it even starts when I wake up.

I hardly close my curtains anymore.

I’d like to say that with her help, everything went back to normal.

I go to work and come home. I hang out with my friends, water my potted plants. Talk to Spencer like I never confessed my love for him.

But it didn’t.

I haven’t really spoken to Spencer since the day I left.

I’ve wanted to.

I’ve wanted to tell him that I’m here. I’m still here. That I’m always going to be here.

That I care about him more than probably life itself.

Ever since I came back, we’ve had to work together, and we’ve had a few small conversations, but nothing like what we used to have.

I crave those conversations.

How we would bounce back and forth from idea to idea, topic to topic without so much as breaking a sweat.

The late night conversations about the probability of aliens, and life on the opposite side of the universe.

I crave him, and the intimacy he brought.

Lately though, he’s been coming to work with a sullen look on his face.

He shows up earlier, and stays later, drowning himself in his paperwork.

When her calls interrupt a caseload, he no longer eagerly picks up to hear what she has to say.

All I want to do is walk over and ask him how he’s doing. How the married life is treating him. If there’s anything I can do to help lift his spirits.

But I can’t.

I’d be overstepping a boundary I didn’t even know I created that night out on the balcony.

Knocking on my door snaps me out of my daze, and I quickly cap my lipstick, making my way towards my front door where my night stands, waiting.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope are waiting, big smiles and laughter bubbling from their lips.

I let the smile spread across my face.

“I just need to grab my shoes and then I’ll be ready.” I usher them into my hallway, running back to my bedroom to grab the pair of heels resting by my closet.

I sit on my bed, slipping them on with ease and grabbing my bag on my way out.

They all ooh and ahh when I step into the light of my kitchen, and JJ grabs my hand, twirling me in place so they can get a better look at my outfit.

“I almost forgot you had party attire, y/n.”

“God, I wish I had an ass like that. I’m older than you. That’s not fair.” Emily says, landing a playful slap against the fabric of my skirt.

“Oh stop it, you flatter me.” Once upon a time, the attention would have made me antsy. The voice in my head would whisper that they were lying to me, that they really thought I was the ugliest thing in existence.

That was then, and this is now. Now the confidence shines off of me like a spotlight.

“You deserve to be flattered, you beautiful goddess you.” Penelope says, her hands waving in the air.

I take a look in the new mirror that hangs in my hallway, and I can’t help but agree. The tight black skirt accentuates my curves, the low cut golden crop top that sticks to me like another skin puts the girls on display, and my heels give me legs for days.

I look damn good.

“Okay okay okay, pre-game selfie!” Penelope grabs her phone and holds up in front of her while we gather around.

She snaps the picture and within a few quick taps, a buzzing emits from my bag.

I dig my phone out, seeing the picture pop up in my notifications.

JJ has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m pressed to Penelope's side. Emily stands over us, one hand on JJ’s shoulder, the other on Penelopes.

I don’t think I could fake a smile like the one on my face even if I wanted to.

I save it to my phone.

~~~

If I thought being in my house, alone, with air conditioning was bad, then I shouldn't have even bothered coming out.

The bar, albeit small, was packed.

Even if there was a breeze, or any airflow at all, the combined body heat of the crowd would have swallowed it up.

I couldn’t really bring it in me to care all that much, though.

The dim lights and heat left my skin with a sexy shine, bringing attention to all the right places.

I could feel the eyes on me.

The ones belonging to men wanting to drown their sorrows in a woman like me, one who appears vulnerable, willing to go along for the ride.

It’s been a while, since I’ve had the attention of the opposite gender, especially this very specific kind of attention.

It feels good, in a way. To be wanted so openly. But it doesn’t mean jack to me, not if it’s not the pair of eyes I’ve been desperate to catch.

I should stop thinking about him.

It’s a girls night out. I don’t have to think, or worry about anything.

Besides, he’s probably busy doing other things. Thinking about me is the last thing on his mind.

I laugh and take a sip from the Shirley temple sitting in front of me, laughing as JJ recounts a story about will and a botched attempt at breakfast in bed.

I pick a cherry up from the fizzy drink, and bite the end off, relishing in the sweet flavor. I pop the stem in my mouth, twirling it around my tongue as I listen to the conversation, pulling it between my teeth and setting it down on the table in a knot.

“Oh my god. Did you just tie a cherry stem with your tongue?” Penelope is cheesing from the other side of the table, the bright pink straw of her margarita almost to her lips.

I laugh, holding it up for them to inspect.

“You know what that means.” Emily says, taking a sip from her own drink, before continuing her thought. “You, my friend, can give great head.”

A blush covers my cheek, but I cock an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

The three women burst into high pitched laughter, and I see Pen pull out her phone. She holds it up to me.

“Do it again. The internet needs to be blessed with this knowledge.”

I chuckle again, the spirit of the night enough to get me drunk off the energy. I grab another cherry from my drink, sucking the end into my mouth before popping it off, and swallowing it.

“Alright, we have one, untied cherry stem before us.” I hold out the stem for the camera to see. “Now watch as I tie it with no hands.” I stick out my tongue, placing it in the middle before closing my mouth.

I rest my elbows on the table, working my tongue around the stem, forcing it into submission to do exactly what I want.

Within 15 seconds, I pull it through my teeth, and hold up a tied cherry stem.

“Ta-da! Magic.” I place it on the table as they clap, smiles wide and goofy from their own alcoholic concoctions.

“She’s single people. And there’s a line forming so shoot your shot.” JJ is the one to speak to the camera, and I giggle, taking another sip.

Penelope brings her phone down, and within a minute my phone buzzes again, this time with the notification of the video being posted.

There are worse things to be posted on the internet about me.

“I never knew you could do that, y/n/n.” Pen says, taking a sip from her drink.

I run a hand through my hair, shrugging. “Didn’t think I needed to put it on my resume. It’s mostly a party trick I use when I like someone. I haven’t used it in years though.”

The unspoken question lingers on the air.

“No, I never showed Spencer. But I’m sure it’d blow his mind. The way that man applies math and logic to everything he does just solidifies the fact that I know he wouldn’t be able to do it.”

It’s been a while since I’ve joked about him openly, but it wasn’t forced. It didn’t hurt.

It was just a natural statement.

“Have you guys noticed that something’s up with him? He seems distant lately.” JJ says, leaning in closer so she doesn’t have to talk over the crowd.

“Okay, so it’s not just me.” I reply, playing with the straw in my drink.

“It’s gotta be something at home. I mean, he doesn’t even remotely act the way that he did when him and Heather first got together.” Emily's eyes look me up and down, reading my body language, but I’m done hiding.

I let the building anger ripple through me.

“He seems...sad. And not like, normal Reid sad where it has to do with his mom or something, no this is like..” she stops herself from continuing the sentence.

I finish it for her. “It’s like, me, sad.”

JJ sighs. “I hate to say it, but do you think it has anything to do with Heather?”

A glass shatters across the room, and like the red sea, the crowd parts.

Everything happens in no more than a couple seconds, but it feels like a lifetime.

Through the empty space, I see two people standing at the bar. The woman has her hands wound into the man's shirt, her body turned as she laughs at someone behind her, I’m assuming the one who dropped the glass.

The man has his hands gripped on her hips, smiling into her hair, before she turns back around, connecting their lips in the most disgusting kiss I have had the displeasure of witnessing.

The rage builds swiftly in my stomach and it pulses from my soul outward. The world’s tint changes and I see red.

“Even if it doesn’t right now, it will.”

When the hell did I stand up?

They stand with me, and I’m about to argue my point when Emily speaks. “You want something to record, Garcia?” She moves by me, fixing my hair, handing me her glass which holds a swig of her drink left. “Record this.”

I take it, downing it for a little liquid luck, and start for the bar, the three of them on my heels.

I profile him as best I can in the 20 seconds it takes to get through the now reforming crowd.

There’s a gold ring on his hand. His pants and shirt are dirty, and his boots are thick. He works in something having to do with construction, which means he’s probably done around 5 every night, and I know for a fact that it is way past that.

I walk up to them, grabbing her shoulder and pulling them apart, stepping in between them, getting face to face to him.

“Before you even think about laying a hand on me, my name is SSA Y/L/N of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the F.B.I. From the look of your clothes and the ring on your finger, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that your wife is waiting for you at home.”

His hand instinctively falls to his back pocket.

“And since you just reached for what I’m assuming is your phone, she’s called you multiple times tonight. She knows. Now, fuck off and maybe you can salvage things with her, but believe me when I say this,” His breath smells sour. “You aren’t even half the man that she’s married to.”

He opens his mouth to say something, looking from me, to Heather, to the three women surrounding her, keeping her from leaving, and the camera pointed directly at his face.

He looks back down to me, and huffs, stepping back and walking in the other direction.

For a moment, I stare at where he stood.

And then a fire ignites in my stomach and it takes everything in me to not beat the girl standing behind me.

I turn, and lightning strikes behind her eyes.

“You’re not gonna tell him.”

“Like hell I’m not!” I take a step forward, and she takes one back, bumping into Emily who has her arms crossed, and her shoulders raised. “You know, I tried so hard to give you the benefit of the doubt, Heather. You made him happy and I honestly thought you loved him, but I realize now that he deserves someone so much better than you.”

“Oh what, someone like you?” She’s snide, her demeanor defensive and cocky at the same time. She thinks she’s gonna come out on top of this.

“You know what? Yes. Someone like me. Someone who wouldn’t even think about doing this to him, because the amount of pain that he is about to go through doesn’t even come close to the stupid fucking reward. Oh, so you slept with some douchebag because what? You’re not getting enough attention?” The words are cathartic, leaving my belly with the venom that has been brewing there for the past 2 and half years.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

That would have stopped me in my tracks 6 months ago. Now I don’t even flinch.

“Oh honey, it’s not a fucking secret anymore. You want to hear me say it? I love him. I am in love with Spencer fucking Reid, and the only reason that he is with you, is because I was a decent human being and could see that you made him happy, so I kept my mouth shut. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens now, because whatever it is, it has to be better than being with a lying, cheating bitch like you.”

“You think he’s gonna run to you? Is that what you’re hoping for? He’s not gonna believe you. And even if he did, I’d turn on the water works and make him believe it was just this one time.”

She doesn’t know she’s being filmed.

I turn to the bartender. “Excuse me, is she a regular here?”

The bartender smirks, wiping down the wood. “Yep. She comes in at least a couple times a week with that dude you kicked to the curb. They almost always leave together.”

Heather scoffs, crossing her arms. “Again, he’ll never believe you.”

“You sure about that hot stuff?” Penelope steps forward, shoving the camera in her face. “Smile for the camera.”

Heather's eyes go wide, before turning to me. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would do it for a fucking corn chip.”

I place my hands on my hips, getting so close to her our noses almost touch. My voice is dangerously low when I speak. “Either you tell him everything or I will. And trust me. I have my ways of finding out if you did.”

I step back, wishing the daggers in my eyes could inflict actual pain, as I turn to walk away.

I hear her shout in frustration before I feel her hands on my back, pushing me forward into the mass of people.

A couple people unaware of the confrontation help me back up with a smile, thinking I’ve just drunkenly tripped over myself.

Emily and JJ each hold one of my arms, making sure I’m stable, while Penelope keeps filming a look of shock on her face.

A wicked smile forms on my face.

I was hoping she’d do something like that.

I turn and my fist connects with her face, a nice cracking noise satisfying the lust building in my chest, as a thin coat of blood covers my knuckles.

Though, it’s not my blood.

She’s holding her nose in pain as she falls to the floor, taking down a bar stool with her, and I swear I see the bartender laugh.

I grab a napkin off the bar, wiping my knuckles before throwing it on the floor by her feet.

“C’mon girls. The night is still young.”

I see them cover their own smiles with their hands, and Penelope starts to giggle the shock away.

I know I should feel bad. It was unprofessional of me.

But she shoved me first.

It is, legally, self-defense.

Is it sick that I wish she would have punched me?

It doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t press charges. She’s smart enough to know she just dug her grave.

And now she has to lie in it.

~~~~

The atmosphere is different when I walk into the office the next morning.

It’s tense.

And one look from JJ and an inhale of air tells me why.

Spencer’s here.

I barely have time to set my bag down on my desk, before he grabs me suddenly by the arm, dragging me into a nearby conference room.

The anger is rolling off of him in waves, and I can see by the way he clenches and unclenches his fists, he is pissed.

He almost throws me into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you punched Heather in the face for no damn reason?”

Stupid, stupid girl.

Did she not think, that the way I would find out, would be from Spencer himself?

I can’t help but shake my head and laugh. “She didn’t tell you.”

“She told me that she was having a drink with a girlfriend of hers when you came up drunk, yelling at her, until you just punched her. Can you explain that to me?”

He’s finally yelling at me. After months of begging for him to yell at me, he finally is.

It doesn’t feel as good as I had hoped it would.

I don’t say anything, just pull out my phone to find the video that Garcia sent me.

“Are you serious right now, Y/N? Put your fucking phone down and explain to me why you broke my wife's nose!”

I sit in a chair, setting the phone on the table and sliding it towards him. I lean back and cross my hands over my stomach.

“Watch the video, Spencer.”

“Why? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?”

I lean forward, onto my elbow, annunciating every syllable. “Watch the damn video.”

He stands, and I watch as he fights with himself, before huffing in defeat, sitting in a chair and pulling my phone towards him.

He presses play.

I watch as his anger flows away with each passing second, despair taking its place.

This is what I wasn’t looking forward to. Seeing him see it for the first time.

Watching him break.

It wasn’t pretty.

I watch as tears form in his eyes and silently drop down his cheeks.

He clenches his jaw as he watches her shove me, and the punch that followed.

The room is dead quite when the video ends.

I’m the one who speaks first, my voice soft.

“I punched her, because she had the audacity to do this. She had the audacity to hurt you, and flaunt that fact publicly.”

I swallow, taking a breath before speaking.

“I meant everything I said in that video, Spence.”

He looks up at the nickname, his anger no longer directed at me.

“She hurt you, and I saw red. I didn’t think about what I was doing, and frankly, I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret standing up for you. I never have, and I never will.” I clasp my hands together, forcing myself to continue.

“I love you Spencer. I don’t think that’s ever going to change. I’m going to have to live with you finding other people and falling in love, and I promise you, I will support you in that. But not with her. Not after that. You deserve so much better than a girl who thinks she can get away with this just because she’s pretty and jealous.”

He taps a couple things on my phone, before turning the screen off and sliding it back over to me.

He stands.

I don’t. I continue talking as he walks over to me.

“You mean everything to me, Spence. If I know you’re happy, truly happy, then I’m satisfied. I will defend you until the end of the universe comes. You are my best friend, and I love you. And I’m sorry I was never upfront about it before, but I am now.”

I look up at him as he stands in front of me. “I’m done hiding from you.”

He’s still for a moment.

He reaches down and grabs my hands, pulling me up before he wraps his arms around my waist and buries himself into my neck.

I pause, but only for a moment, before wrapping my arms around him and holding him tight against me.

I can feel the wet spots on my neck as he cries, and his hands wind themselves into the fabric of my shirt.

When was the last time he was held like this?

I don’t count the time until he loosens his grip, stepping back from me and wiping his face.

I would hold him until the end of time if he let me.

“Thank you.” He whispers, before moving towards the door.

He opens it and walks out, and I grab my phone, running after him.

I stop in the doorway.

“Hey!��

He stops and turns, and the rest of the team is watching over their files.

My heart is pounding, and I feel out of breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” I let him remember. “But I still choose you.”

A small smile flutters across his face, before he turns and walks away.

I look down at my phone.

Spence xp

[Video]

Sent, 9:06 a.m.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds series #cm #mathew gray gubler #mgg #heather #song fic #conan gray

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