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sarahowritesostucky · 9 months ago

Text

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3720

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

4. Cake Doughnuts (shitty non-doughnuts)

This is not the way Mary expected her life to go. Divorced at 29, probably unemployed, and now declared mentally incompetent and legally attached to some stranger? Ew.

At least when the cops had dragged her into the ER, she’d been drunk still. But she’s sobered up a lot since then, and ever more so during the drive from the hospital to back to Brooklyn. It’s the most awkward car ride of her life. Steve’s the one who drives. Mary doesn’t know why that surprises her, but it does. And he’s the one who leads the way into their building and up the stairs. It’s an older building with character but no elevator, so they make the three story climb on foot. Another resounding Ew.

Mary walks silently around Bucky’s (and Steve’s—because of course he’s gay and married) apartment, feeling shy and hesitant and all the things she just really doesn’t want to be feeling right now. She stops when she gets to the second bedroom, stares at its pristinely tucked-in sheets and neutral tableau.

“You can bring over any stuff you need from your place,” Steve is saying gently from behind her, where he and Bucky are lingering in the hallway. “It’ll be your room. We won’t bother you in there.”

She whips around. “How long do I have to stay here?” Better to figure it out now. Make a plan. She glares at Bucky, since he’s the one in charge of this disaster. “I’m not staying here forever.” Steve looks even sadder at her words than Bucky does, kind of like a kicked puppy. It’s disconcerting, so Mary keeps her attention on Bucky instead, forcing herself to make eye contact. “Well?”

“Until I feel like it’s safe and healthy for you to be on your own,” he says, not a hint of sympathy in his tone. That’s disappointing, and it pisses Mary the hell off.

“Screw you,” she says, not particularly loudly, but definitely full of all the contempt she feels for this guy. “You think you can just—”

He’s got her pushed up against the wall faster than she can track with her eyes. One second she’s standing feet away from him, and the next she just … isn’t. He’s in her space and against her body, one hand at the base of her throat and a thigh pressing forward, holding her to the wall. It’s terrifying and shocking and …

“Oh I know ‘I can just’,” he says darkly.

… She’d rather eat glass than tell him what else it is. “Let go of me,” she grits out.

Disappointingly, he does. Steve is just standing there like a big idiot, blinking wide eyes at the scene. Bucky takes a full step back from her and says, “Don’t curse at me, Mary. It’s disrespectful.”

She wants to ask him exactly what he’s done to earn any respect from her. She grinds the words into her teeth instead while Bucky watches her knowingly. She hates that look almost as much as she hates the way he says her name, as if he’s known her for years rather than a millisecond.

“House rules,” he says calmly. “The practicalities of what’s going to happen. We should discuss that, don’t you think?”

Steve places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, comes up beside him and wraps an arm around his waist in a way that reminds Mary that the two are a couple. “Hey,” he says softly, speaking in Bucky’s ear. “Why don’t we let her get some rest before you go asserting your dominance, huh?” Mary wrinkles her nose at the word, and Steve regards her kindly. “You’ve gotta be tired,” he says. “You want to sleep?”

Bucky looks like he’ll protest, so Mary nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah I’m tired.”

She watches as Steve squeezes his husband’s shoulder. “Come on, Babe. Let’s leave her to get some rest. She’s been up all night.”

Suddenly, Mary realizes that she has been up all night, and it’s almost comical, how fast the exhaustion hits her. Her throat starts to ache with a yawn that she fights not to let out in front of them. “Yeah,” she says again, this time thinking less about Bucky and what he wants or doesn’t want, and more about the bed that Steve said was reserved for her. She remembers that she feels like absolute shit, and probably looks it, too. “M’gonna sleep,” she says, turning away from both of them and heading for the bed.

The door ‘snicks’ shut softly behind her, and she assumes it was Steve who closed it. The two men's muffled voices fade off down the hallway, and even though it’s probably naïve to trust them so easily, Mary believes what Steve said about them not bothering her in this room.

She collapses on the bed that is exactly as soft as it looks. The sheets are tucked with military precision and smell like no one’s ever used them before. Mary grinds her face into the cool pillows and briefly wonders if Steve and Bucky have never had any company over to use this bed, before falling into one of the deadest sleeps of her life.

She wakes up feeling much, much better. Steve and Bucky’s guest bedroom has an en-suite, so she goes in and does her best to freshen up with the toiletries she finds stocked there.

There are three Advil Liqui-gel capsules sitting on the bedside table when she comes out. Mary regards them sharply and glances back to the door, but it’s still closed, no sign of life heard from outside in the hallway. Either the pills were there earlier and she just didn’t notice them, or else Steve is a lot stealthier than he looks. Twisting her lips, she scoops the pills up and tosses them back to fend off the headache she can already feel brewing behind her temples.

A quick search of the room’s dresser drawers yields nothing, and she’s forced to face the fact that she’s going to have to do this confrontation dressed in only her huge tee shirt from the night before. No matter, she thinks, squaring her shoulders and reaching for the doorknob. She’s got a new strategy in mind.

“I’m sorry,” she says, when she ventures out to find Bucky and Steve sitting in the living room.

Steve reaches for the remote to mute the tv, and Bucky sits back with a doughnut that he’s just plucked from a box on the coffee table. He bites into it, looking only vaguely interested "Want one?"

She spares a glance at the box. "Are they yeasted?"

"What's that mean?" Steve asks.

Another glance reveals that they're not, and Mary turns her nose up at them. "It means you're eating shitty, overbaked cake, not a doughnut," she says snottily.

Steve just blinks and looks back at the box with a little frown. Bucky takes another huge bite of his doughnut and chews it, maintaining eye contact with her and speaking around his mouthful, "Weren't you sorry for something?"

Mary purses her lips and starts over with her contrition act. “Yes. Look, I know you guys are just trying to help me. And I know I probably seem like such a hot mess to you right now.”

“Cause you are,” Bucky drawls.

Mary quells the urge to go over there and slap the doughnut straight out of his hands. That won’t help her with this new strategy she’s decided on. ‘Honey versus vinegar’, and all that. “Yeah,” she says instead. “So I’ll admit, my life hasn’t been going very well lately. And I really did need some help.” She forces herself to give Bucky a friendly smile. “So I’m glad you were willing to step in and help me. Thank you.” Bucky is looking at her way, way too unimpressed, and Mary squirms in place, thinking that he should be looking happier at what she’s just said. “Well?” she says.

He chews another bite of doughnut for a solid five seconds, swallows, then says, “How much did it hurt you to spit that out?”

She scowls. “I was trying to be nice.”

“Mm hm.” He pats the couch beside himself in a clear invitation. “Come sit down. Have a doughnut.”

She’s obeying before she even thinks about it, though at least she has the sense to take a seat on Steve’s side of the L-shaped sectional, and not Bucky’s. “I’m not hungry,” she says, just as her stomach gives a small growl.

“Well clearly that’s a lie,” Steve chuckles.

Mary glances over at him, peeved, but decidedly less so than she is at Bucky. Steve just seems less … threatening, maybe. Whatever it is, Mary pushes it from her mind.

“Look, I’ll stick around for a few hours or something if you really want to make sure I’m okay,” she says, attention back on Bucky, because she can already tell that he’s the one she’s got to convince. “But then I have to get back to my apartment.” She sees Bucky’s expression shutter at this and quickly adds, “I understand that you’re responsible for me, temporarily, technically. And I appreciate what you’ve done. I don’t want to cause you guys any more trouble than I already have. I’m going to take steps to take better care of myself now. And we can … we can keep in touch if you want. Just so you don’t ... you know … worry.” By the end of her speech she’s lost confidence, as she can see from Bucky’s expression that this is not being received well.

"Is that all?" he asks, eyebrow arched.

“Bucky,” she complains, floundering. “Come on. This isn’t … I mean you can’t just, adopt me, or whatever. I’m not some stray dog. You don’t even know me!"

He nods. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t.”

For one brief, overly-optimistic moment, she thinks that she’s actually going to get out of it that easy.

“But I’ll get to know you. Because you’re not leaving here anytime soon, Honey.”

All of that optimism tanks straight into a sour pit of disappointment. Mary shoots up to standing, startling Steve a bit where he's reaching for the doughnut box. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps.

Bucky takes another smug fucking bite out of his doughnut. “What?” he asks. “‘Honey’?”

“Yes! I’m not your ‘Honey’. I’m not your anything.”

He licks the sugar off his lips and stares her down. “You like it when I call you that.”

“No, I hate it,” she sneers. “Just like I hate your smug, self-satisfied face. I hate men like you.”

Bucky relaxes further back into the sofa, gesturing at her with the last of the doughnut before he stuffs it in his mouth and eats it. “Men like me, huh?” he asks once he’s swallowed, infuriating in his nonchalance.

“Yes.”

He chuckles and starts sucking his fingers clean one by one. “And what would that be?” he drawls, letting his legs splay wide on the couch cushions, thigh muscles straining against the denim of his jeans. He sees her getting distracted and hums. “Hm? Pray tell, Little girl. Do enlighten me. What are 'men like me' like?”

For one, airless second, all Mary wants in the world is to drop to her knees right between his legs, put her face at the seam of his jeans and rub her cheek against his thigh, against his …

Her thoughts go unfocused, fuzzy at the edges, static in her brain. She licks her lips absentmindedly, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of how he’s positioned himself …

“Mary.”

The sound of her own name draws her out of it, like a slap. She meets his eyes and juts her chin out, half dizzy from the effort. “Men like you think they know everything,” she grits. “Think that they’re the end-all-be-all. Men like you don’t feel any compunction about stepping on everyone around them. Men like you think you’re so fucking smart, that you can’t even fathom the likely alternative.”

“And what would that be?”

“That you’re actually just a cocksure moron,” she hisses.

Bucky tips his head at Steve. “Stevie tells me I’m a moron every other Tuesday, don’t you Babe?”

Steve shrugs a little from where he's leaning forward, holding the lid of the doughnut box open while he tries to choose a flavor. “Well, yeah.”

Bucky smirks, so unaffected that Mary just wants to scream. “So," he says. "You ‘hate men like me’, huh?”

“Yes. I do."

“That’s why you’ve spent your whole life around them, then?”

“I …" She falters. "What?”

Bucky glances over to Steve, and the two of them have some sort of silent exchange overtop the lid of the doughnut box, wordlessly communicating in a way that evidences a years’ long relationship. When they both look back to her, it’s Steve who speaks first.

“We got to read up on you a little, while you were asleep,” he says. He nods to the laptop and packet of papers on the coffee table. “Did some research. Learned about what led up to this.”

“'This'? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been under the control of domineering men your entire life,” Bucky says, interjecting more forcefully over Steve’s gentler tone—Mary feels like she’s getting whiplash between the two of them. “First it was your father, out in Bumfuck, Nowhereville,”

“Indiana,” Steve mutters.

“Whatever,” Bucky snaps, zeroing back in on Mary with glinting eyes. “And he was ‘that sort of man’, wasn’t he?”

Mary feels a little like she’s been punched in the gut. “So what?” she says. “So you looked me up? Hospital gave you info on me and now you think you know me? You don’t know shit.”

“Your whole life, he said jump and you said how high, right?” Bucky asks, clearly not wanting or needing an answer to the question. Maybe Mary’s expression is answer enough. She’s not quite sure what she must look like right now. Horrified maybe. Or furious. “And then you latched onto the first jerk who’d give you a ride out of town.”

“Shut up.”

“Married him, too. And that worked for you alright ... Until it didn’t.”’

The backs of her eyes are starting to feel hot. “I said: shut up,” she whispers.

Bucky nods and leans forward on the couch, as if her anger and humiliation mean nothing to him. And damn him, maybe they don’t. Maybe he likes this, the sick bastard. “If he hadn’t hit you so bad, you would’ve stayed. Right? He met your needs in every other way.”

Mary shudders. “What are you talking about?”

"I'm talking about self-medicating, Honey. It's what you've been doing. Probably since you were a little girl."

She's disgusted with herself for the tears that break through, unmoored by how Bucky knows all of these things about her, and that he's able to fill in the gaps so easily. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” She swipes angrily at her eyes. “What does any of that have to do with anything? Except for that it’s none of your goddamn business?!”

Bucky softens a little. He glances at Steve, who gives him a warning look. “Sweetheart,” he says, looking back at Mary plaintively. “The drinking and the cutting, the feeling miserable and being sad all the time; that all started after your divorce, yeah?”

That … is not what Mary expected him to say. She’d been expecting more insults, more heartless jabs at her past. “I … What?”

“Answer the question,” Steve urges gently. He looks like he’s in on some secret with Bucky, something only Mary doesn’t know.

“Yeah,” she admits warily. “I mean, divorce is … well it’s divorce. It sucks. Of course I wasn’t happy about it.” She scowls and crosses her arms. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that, dysfunctional as they were, you had very specific relationships with very specific types of men, until what, like a year ago?”

“... Year and a half,” she mutters, unease creeping up her spine at where she thinks this is going.

“Right. And that’s when all your troubles started. Because let's be real: you weren't hurting yourself before then." He tilts his head, feigning curiosity. "Why do you think that is, Mary? Why weren't you falling apart before? When you had a father touching you wrong, or a husband putting holes in your drywall?"

"Stop," she breathes.

He nods sadly. "It was was after, when you didn’t have those people in your life anymore, structuring it, telling you what to do. Once you were alone, that’s when you started to fall apart.” He levels her with a pitying gaze. "Now why do you think that is?"

Oh, hell no. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mary says. She actually takes a physical step back from where she’s standing. “You think what? I was using my douche ex-husband as some sort of a … a dom? My freaking father?!”

“Mary, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” She jabs her finger at Steve, who’s spoken. If she thought she’d been angry at these two before, well now she’s just … she’s just … “You’re fucked up,” she tells them, voice full of quiet fury. “And you,” she points at Bucky. “You might be diagnosed with some freaking mental disorder or whatever, but that doesn’t give you the right to put that fucked up psychology onto everyone else!” She jabs her thumb at her own chest. “I’m normal! I’m not like you. I don't–I don’t have …”

“Mary,”

“No! I don’t. I–I didn’t …” Vaguely, she starts to recognize that her pulse is pounding in her ears, that it’s getting harder to draw breaths. “My f-fa, my, my f-father…”

Bucky stands up and comes towards her. “Mary,”

“No!” She makes to push away, to leave the room, but he closes in too fast and before she knows it, he has one hand on her throat and one at the base of her skull, gripping her hair. And it’s not mean, the way he’s holding her, but when she jerks away it tugs her hair unpleasantly and she whines and stills. “Let go,” she gasps, terrified by the way his hands make her feel.

“Steve, a little help?”

Her heart lurches as she hears Steve move, sees him getting up off the couch and coming over. “Wait,” she whispers, afraid and not understanding why. Not understanding why she’s even whispering in the first place, instead of screaming like she should be. “No, wait, wait—”

Steve is behind her, and even though he’s hardly even doing anything, just has his hands resting on her lightly, Mary still feels a tremor run through her whole body. She feels so trapped. Fixed in place and terrified, but not because she thinks they’ll hurt her.

Because suddenly she can draw a deep breath again.

And she can see the look in Bucky’s eyes, can see how he knows that. “Please,” she whispers, closing her eyes when tears well to the surface. “Please, just, I just need to …”

“You’re okay,” Bucky soothes. “You’re okay, Mary. Just breathe against my hand. Breath against me, against Steve.”

She shakes her head, even though she knows what he means. With her eyes squeezed shut like this, she can feel both him and Steve so solidly, can feel the points where their bodies connect with hers. When she inhales, she feels them there. “What the hell?” she winds up whispering, more to herself than to them.

“You were starting to have a panic attack,” Steve murmurs. He hugs her from behind, and Mary shivers but doesn’t try to shrug him off.

“I don’t have those,” she says. Even to her own ears, it sounds weak. “I don’t,” she insists.

“First time for everything,” Bucky says.

They stand there for a long minute or two. Hell, maybe it’s more. As long as Mary keeps her eyes shut, she can at least pretend that it’s only a minute. It’s only once she opens her eyes that she has to face reality. When she does, she sees that Bucky’s watching her keenly. He looks … sad.

The thought that the man with one hand fisted in her hair and another wrapped around her throat is concerned for her strikes Mary as almost comical. She doesn’t laugh, but she also doesn’t feel close to crying anymore. “I’m okay,” she rasps, swallowing thickly. “I’m okay now.” Shaky maybe, but better. She can breathe again. “Really, I–I am.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, and the motion makes her all the more aware of his hand on her throat. She has to fight back a pleasured sigh at the feeling of it, fight to keep her eyes from fluttering closed.

Bucky shifts in, sandwiching her even closer between their bodies. “So what?” he murmurs. “You want me to let go of you now?”

“Yeah,” she says, not feeling like she wants that at all. “Please.”

He hums. “You’re very good at saying ‘please’,” he observes. “And at telling me you’re not submissive.”

“M’not,” she insists, trying harder to make her voice firm, or at least more than a pathetic, breathy whimper. She looks him in the eyes again.

When had she stopped looking him in the eyes? She can’t remember. She feels like she’s watching this all happen through the lightest sort of fog, or maybe in slow motion, like a videotape playing at only 70% speed. Something like that, she thinks dazedly. She doesn’t feel like she has to worry about it, though. It's warm and heavy and nice here; like being under bathwater.

Bucky’s not looking at her in concern anymore. He looks more relaxed now, nicer, his eyes softer around the edges. And he hasn't let go of her, either.

“She down?”

That’s Steve’s voice, coming from right behind. Mary likes the way she can feel the quiet rumble of it where he’s pressed to her back.

“Mmhm. Waay down.”

“Is it normally that easy?”

Bucky chuckles, it's a nice sound that Mary likes, the richness of it making her want more, like how chocolate makes you want more.

“No, it’s not. This is deprivation, right here. Poor thing.”

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“Oh, sure. We’ll just stay like this for a minute. She needs the contact."

Something about the two of them talking about her like she’s not there is … well it multiplies the bathwater feeling. She hears Steve asking a question, and Bucky making an unhappy noise and answering,

“It should never be this easy. Right now she’d go down for anyone, for even the smallest thing.”

“And she was working in the service industry?” A huff of breath hits Mary’s ear. “Jesus.”

“... Hey,” Mary says, sure that she should protest somehow.

But Bucky’s hand tightens just the barest bit on her throat, and he shushes her sweetly, tells her she’s a “good girl,” and kisses the top of her head.

And Mary pretty much forgets what she was going to say, after that.

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card: sarah-writes-stucky / sarahyellow

Square N5: childhood trauma

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year ago

Text

All Things End

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: I mean none specifically it's just a generally minorly sad fic lol

Genre: angst & kinda fluff

Summary: Finding out your boyfriend's secret drastically changes the dynamic of your relationship; "And all things end // All that we intend is scrawled in sand // Or slips right through our hands" - Hozier

***

The first time you met Steven was coincidence, a happenstance, courtesy of one of your friends- kind of. They share an apartment building and after visiting her you ran into the anxious history buff in the elevator, or he ran into you. You were already in the elevator, your friend Macy lives on the floor above his, and when it opened for him to get on he walked in without looking up from the papers in his hand and crashed right into you because of course you didn't react quick enough when he came careening in. His papers scattered and he jumped back so far a cat would be jealous.

"Going down?" You asked him lightheartedly, holding the door open button for him.

"Oh bullocks! I- I'm so sorry, I'll take the next one."

"Nonsense, half your papers are in here. Plus it's just me in the elevator. Afraid I'll bite?"

"No!" He shook his head so frantically you'd thought it might fly off.

"Well then get in. We can ride down together and you can pick up whatever it is that had you too enraptured to look up."

"I'm sorry. Again I- I hadn't meant to-" Steven had scrambled to grab his papers as the elevator door closed.

"Hey I get it. When the reading is good it can really take you to another world. No hard feelings." You chuckled. He offered an awkward half laugh in response before silence fell over you.

"Are you new here?" He asked after a moment.

"What?"

"Are you new? In the apartment building, I mean. I don't mean to pry I've just never seen you around before is all."

"Right well that's probably because I don't live here actually, I'm just visiting a friend. She lives above you."

"Oh." He frowned and you couldn't help but tease him a bit at the way he deflated.

"Why? Were you hoping to see me more often?" You winked.

"No!" He'd almost sounded indignant when he answered and then his eyes widened as if he realized what he said only after the fact. "Not- not that I'm opposed to seeing you more often it's just that well- we just met. I have no idea who you are so I can't really say I'm hoping for anything yet. A-again it's not that I'm particularly opposed to seeing you again or anything." He was rambling. You thought it was cute.

"Shame. I'd certainly be happy to catch a glimpse of you next time I'm around." You winked at him as the elevator finally reached the lobby of the building. He'd been too stunned to respond as you got out of the lift. "See you soon 7th floor." You'd tossed over your shoulder as a goodbye and left him to his own devices.

It would be a while before you saw him again, a month or so before you happened to catch him again. This time on your way up. He's coming out of the elevator as you're waiting for it.

"Ah, you're paying attention this time!" You joke.

"Oh! It's you again." He blinks at you. The two of you swap places, him getting out of the elevator while you get in it. You press the button for your friend's floor.

"Yes. Hi, mister 7th floor. Bye, mister 7th floor." You smile as the doors close. When you reach your friend's apartment you can't help but ask her about him.

"What do you know about the other people in your building?" You ask her.

"Ask whatever question you actually want an answer to." Macy chuckles.

"There's a guy who lives on the floor below you. Curly brown hair, olive skin, brown eyes, about this tall I'm guessing but he hunches over, he's super anxious although that could just be me making him nervous." You rattle off descriptors.

"If you're talking about who I think you're talking about no it's not you, he's always that nervous, at least every time I've seen him. I call him squirrely. I dunno much about him though, not even his name actually, he's quiet and minds his business, seems nice though. He's polite at least." Macy shrugs. "Why do you ask?" Her eyes narrow with a curious smirk on her lips.

"I've run into him a couple of times. He's- curious, so I was just gathering intel."

"Gathering intel? Stay away from him y/n you'll break the poor boy." She laughs.

"I'm not gonna break him!"

"Not on purpose but he's not the type you usually go for, I don't think he can handle you."

"Well, he's been holding up as well as he needs to so far." You say.

"Don't tell me you've already taken a liking to him."

"I dunno if I'd go that far yet we've only spoken twice but he is cute." You shrug.

"I mean- try if you must babes." She muses.

And try you did. Eventually. It was slow going before you even decided to head down that road. You ran into him a few more times first with a teasing line or two each time and ultimately after a series of 'see you around 7th floor's he gave you his name and so you asked him to dinner.

Your first date had been expectedly awkward. Steven was so nervous he rambled through most of your meal which, from anyone else would seem so unattractively self-obsessed you'd have blocked them before you even left the restaurant, but from Steven, it was somehow so charming to see him so animated. Maybe because you know it's a nerves thing and not indifference to subjects other than his own interests.

Several dates later Steven, to your surprise, asks you to be his girlfriend. You're still not sure where the confidence to initiate that next step came from, you always thought you'd be the one asking him to go steady if it got that far, which it did but he made the move. It was a bit rushed and awkward in the way Steven usually is but it worked for him.

"Y/n." He'd been walking you home from a date and stopped you at your apartment building before you could go inside.

"Yes, Steven?"

"We've been seeing each other for some time now and well I've really had fun getting to know you and all so I was wondering, I thought that perhaps at this point you'd consider making it official. With me. I mean only if you'd like to it's not necessary. What we've got going on is good too. I'm okay with-"

"Steven you're rambling." You'd had to stop yourself from giggling at his frantic sentences avoiding your eyes.

"Right. I'm just trying to ask... would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"I would love to." You'd smiled at him and kissed him faster than he could process. He was easy to fall in love with. Charming even through his perpetual awkwardness, caring, funny, and one of the smartest people you know. Everything felt, right when it came to him. You didn't have to question things with him. He made things easy, so easy it was strange to even consider that things would go wrong.

When you woke up in his bed this morning and realized he wasn't beside you, it was more than a little strange. First of all, you know he doesn't work today, it was his selling point in turning your date last night into a sleepover. There's no note and the stillness of his apartment makes it obvious he's not in the bathroom or in the kitchen or anywhere. It's still early too. You turn over possibilities in your head as you shuffle to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Just as you complete those tasks and exit the bathroom having put on your moisturizer, you hear the door to the apartment unlock and swing open.

"You're back." You say.

"Yeah hey." The word sounds- wrong. As though, despite your eyes recognizing the man before you, your ears are hearing a stranger's voice.

"Steven?" You frown and he freezes immediately. It's as if he didn't even realize it was you he spoke to. There's a pause, it's only a moment or two but it feels so tense it might as well have lasted several minutes.

"Hello, love, I didn't know you'd still be here." He smiles awkwardly. Something still sounds off about his voice, the accent feels forced, and his tone is awkward in a way that even for Steven is out of place.

"You didn't know I'd still be here? That's- not exactly the greeting I expected." You scoff, crossing your arms. "Where did you go before 9 A.M. on a Saturday? And what is going on with your voice?" You ask. He's still again. It's like you can see a loading screen on his face before he speaks.

"I- uh well," his head tilts suddenly and he clears his throat. "I've been feeling a bit of an itch in my throat and wanted to slip out for some medication, perhaps surprise you by making breakfast even but it appears I didn't return quick enough. I'm sorry, and good morning by the way my darling." Steven's voice sounds better when he speaks again and he walks over to you to wrap his arms around your waist.

"You didn't mention an itch yesterday." You point out.

"I didn't want it to ruin our evening. No need to worry love it's nothing some tea can't cure." He smiles.

"Well, then I'll make you some tea."

"Nonsense, you're-"

"I'm your girlfriend of almost a year, I think there's no problem with making you tea, even if this is." You chuckle.

"Alright, if you insist. Thank you my darling." He smiles at you. Like I said, he makes things so easy. It would be strange to think something was wrong here. Right? You don't want to press the issue but there's a gnawing in the back of your mind that something is not quite right.

A girlfriend?! You've kept a girlfriend from me all this time?! How the hell did you even pull that off? The voice in Steven's head is angrily yelling at him in the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"You had a wife once upon a time Marc. I think I'm allowed to date." Steven rolls his eyes, he's whispering though- so as to not alert you of the back and forth.

The problem isn't you dating Steven, the problem is I didn't know about her! And she doesn't know about us! What exactly is your plan huh to keep her in the dark forever?!

"You're overreacting."

You have to tell her or it'll ruin whatever thing you've got going on with her.

"No!" Steven shouts on accident, and you gasp at the sound of his voice.

"Steven honey are you okay?" You call looking at the bathroom door from the kitchen.

"Fine, love! Just- uh- dropped something!" He cringes at the not even remotely convincing lie.

Trust me Steven- it's the secrets and the lies that fucked things up with the wife you so conveniently mentioned earlier

"I'm not telling her Marc, none of this is her business. It's hardly mine even. Leave her out of it." With that order, Steven stomps out of the bathroom, taking a moment to calm himself before joining you in the kitchen.

You obviously didn't know it at the time, but that morning could probably be marked as the beginning of the end. After it, you started to notice weird things about Steven's behavior. Sometimes he'd leave suddenly with some half-assed excuse or you'll catch him talking quietly to himself and you can tell he's more tired these days but you don't bring it up. As strange as it all is you want to give Steven the benefit of the doubt. He's never given you a reason not to trust him.

You: Hey Steven, I left something at your place, gonna stop by to get it later tonight.

At this point, you and Steven have keys to each other's apartments so you shoot him a text before you leave work about something you left at his that you need to pick up. You'd gone over to his yesterday after work at his behest and ended up forgetting a flash drive when you left. When you get to Steven's you knock on the door a couple of times but when he doesn't answer you let yourself in. You just need to grab your drive and you'll be out as soon as you find it anyway. The apartment is empty when you walk in and you quickly find the flash drive sitting on the floor by the couch where you'd tossed your workbag the night before upon arrival. When you bend down to reach for it though, you hear a sound from somewhere in the apartment. You startle, you know Steven's not home so you scramble for a makeshift weapon, you think someone is breaking in. You grab one of the many books Steven leaves littered around his apartment and crouch behind the couch, out of sight of the window where you heard the sound come from. The window slides open quickly and you hear the intruder scramble through it, into the apartment. You don't give yourself too much time to think about it as you hurl the book at the stranger who immediately lets out a curse when the hardcover collides with his body. You're not sure where though, you ducked back behind the couch too quickly to see it land.

"Who's there!? I'm not in the mood to kill you but I will if I have to. Just so you know." His voice rings out in the small studio. You grab another book from the coffee table as silently as you can and prepare to chuck it when he inevitably finds you behind the couch. You poke your head around the side of the furniture to try and get a look at him. He's in some sort of costume, a greyish-white full body outfit that looks like it's made of mummy wrappings, and a hooded cape. If not for the fact that he's currently breaking into your boyfriend's apartment you might think it's cool, but under the circumstances, it seems silly and wrong for the situation. Like going to a funeral in a wedding dress, or the beach in a snowsuit. So wrapped up in your internal mocking you miss the moment when he sees you until he says so.

"Shit it's you." He says and you pop up fully because that sounds like recognition though you can't see him you definitely don't recognize the voice.

"Do you know me?" You ask, book in hand still ready to throw it at him if necessary. He holds up his hands in front of him as you watch the suit dissipate before your eyes and reveal your boyfriend, but not. It's his face for sure, you'd know it anywhere, but you'd heard him talk and that was not your boyfriend's voice coming from that body. Not to mention his demeanor is different, even in his placating defensive stance you can tell the man in front of you carries himself differently.

"It's just me. Steven." He says carefully. The voice you hear is so distinctly American coming from your very British boyfriend's mouth.

"Bullshit. I don't know what you are but you are not my boyfriend. What have you done to him?" Your hold on the book in your hand tightens as you prepare yourself to chuck it at the imposter's head.

"Nothing! I swear." He says with a small shake of his head. "Dammit Steven, where are you?" He grits out so quietly you don't quite catch the words.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?! You snuck into his apartment and you sound nothing like him. I'm pretty sure this is how the bodysnatchers movie works. Except you're really shitty at pretending to be him."

"I'm not a body snatcher." He scoffs.

"Right I'll just take your word for it." You roll your eyes. There's silence for a couple of moments and then something changes in the man's face.

"Darling... put the book down we- need to talk." This time when he talks it sounds exactly like you know Steven to sound. This only further freaks you out at this point and you hurl the book at him, immediately picking up another. He dodges the book you threw, just barely "Y/n!" He takes a step towards you but you hold up a hand.

"Stay. There. I don't know what is going on but if you come any closer I will scream so loud this entire building will call the police."

"Love I would never hurt you."

"How can I possibly know that? Why did you just sound like a different person? What was that... costume? Who- what are you? Is everything you've told me a lie?!"

"No. I am Steven Grant, your boyfriend of almost a year. I work at a museum gift shop. This is my apartment. I have... something called dissociative identity disorder. It means... my mind is fractured in a way. So while I am Steven Grant your boyfriend there is another- consciousness that shares my body. His name is Marc Spector and the uh, costume is his. He does... work for an Egyptian deity when I'm not working or with you. You've met Marc before actually. Months ago when you spent the night and I told you I was sick."

"Work?" You ask.

"Some would probably label him a vigilante of sorts." Steven shrugs.

"Oh." You say.

"Oh? That's all you have to say?" He frowns.

"You've been lying to me for months Steven be glad all I have to say right now is 'oh'." You say.

"I haven't-"

"A lie by omission is still a lie. If I hadn't come here to get my flash drive you would never have told me." You mutter. "I- I need to think. I'll call you." You say turning and leaving the apartment before he can say anything else.

The dissociative identity disorder part of all this you think you're processing very well. That's something you can make sense of, something you already know of and can research. This, part time vigilante business though you- struggle to wrap your head around. Steven doesn't hear from you for a week and it's rough. Marc tries to be there for him as best he can but the anxieties of you never speaking to him again are quite unbearable. Meanwhile you go to work. Like nothing is wrong, you go in every morning and leave every evening, trying to hold onto the things that aren't affected by the information constantly swirling in your subconscious, even when you aren't actively trying to come to terms with it. Steven is entitled to his privacy. He doesn't owe you every detail of everything that goes on in his life, it's not that. You've been together a year and- it hurts to think he still doesn't trust you. That's where your head is. Why else would he keep these things secret for so long?

Before another full week passes Steven has worried himself into an absolute state. Not eating or sleeping through the night he looks even more disheveled than usual. Marc can't stand it anymore and without Steven realizing it has marched the body to your apartment. At least if Steven saw your face maybe- maybe it would ease him slightly, even if you weren't ready to speak to him. The frantic knocking at your apartment door startles you as you sit on the couch. When you glance through the spyhole and see Steven with his messed up hair and tired, sad eyes your heart aches a tiny bit. You open the door with a confused frown on your face.

"What are you doing here Steven?" The words aren't harsh, in fact, they're almost quiet.

"I know you- said you'd call but I can't. I can't keep sitting with all the ways I screwed things up, wondering if you're ever going to speak to me, contemplating just how much you hate me, and- just tell me what to do and I'll do it. How do I fix things between us? I can't stand not speaking to you, not seeing you, not knowing if we'll ever be okay again." His words are frantic and the sentences almost feel jumbled with how fast he's speaking but you hear every desperation filled word.

"I don't hate you, Steven." You say flatly.

"How do I fix this? What do I do to make you love me again?" He asks.

"Do you trust me, Steven? At all?" You ask instead of offering an answer.

"More than anyone I've ever known." He answers so immediately it's almost enough for you to believe it.

"Yet, you keep these secrets that... say otherwise."

"I have no more secrets and- it wasn't just mine. Marc- he doesn't trust easily and he doesn't know you I couldn't- I didn't want to, expose him that way no matter how much I trust you it wasn't just about me. Please, you have to know I didn't do any of this to hurt you. I love you more than anything, you are my world. I can't lose you." Steven says and the look in his eyes makes you look away from him. You can't tell him what you're thinking really, that when people say something is forever either way it ends, so instead you say what will bring him comfort.

"You haven't lost me." You tell him. You don't think he has. You don't want this to be the end. So, you pull him into your apartment and his arms wrap around you so tightly you can hardly breathe. You let him hold you like that on your couch, as if he knows you'll slip through his hands if he lets go. You stay there listening to his heart beating in his chest, feeling the comfort of his arms, the heat of his body against yours, and you let yourself sink into those feelings. Eventually, his breathing evens out and you swear he's fallen asleep and in the quiet of your apartment, you murmur your thoughts out loud. "We didn't get this right but we did our best, and we will again." You say to yourself and you know, deep in your heart even if you can't tell him tonight. You know that all things end.

And just knowing that everything will end should not change our plans, when we begin again.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marc spector angst #steven grant angst #moonknight angst

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whatologys · 11 months ago

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Hi, can you do raven asks dick and kory for advice for asking gnreader out?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: none, i think, lmk if i missed anything :p

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: rachel roth x gn!reader

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 0.4k

𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡: yes/no

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: fluff ig :)

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘: none

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: so sorry this took so long, i've been pretty busy with exams and all, but, i am finally trying to bring out some stuff, kind of likemy holiday presents to you guys, yay!

ALSO: I am going to actually make a plan for holiday fics i will be making, with a few dates, so it'll appear sometime soon, on my pinned post :D

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Rachel has been pining over you for weeks, and really really wants to ask you out, so who better to ask but dick and kory

Rachel's daily routine became a delicate dance of avoiding awkward encounters. The mere prospect of running into you in the communal kitchen or the hallway sent her heart into an erratic pitter patter. There were times when she questioned if her crush had taken residence in her subconscious, playing puppeteer with her every move.

One particularly awkward encounter unfolded during a shared elevator ride. As the doors slid closed, Rachel felt a familiar warmth creeping up her cheeks. She desperately tried to focus on the display panel, avoiding any eye contact that could expose her internal struggle. The silence between floors seemed to stretch for an eternity, each passing second amplifying the awkward tension.

"You know," she blurted out, breaking the silence, "elevators are... um, weirdly quiet, huh?" You'd replied with a small "Yeah" and walked out of the elevator, and as soon as the elevator doors closed again she groaned.

Smooth, Rachel, real smooth. She mentally facepalmed, berating herself for the cringe-worthy attempt at conversation. Fortunately, you flashed a friendly smile, alleviating the awkwardness, at least momentarily.

So, she went to the only two people who she thought actually had some valid advice, Dick and Kory. She could've gone to Jason, or Gar, but would they really have valid advice?

With a hesitant smile, she began, "Can I ask you guys something?" The words hung in the air, a mix of anticipation and vulnerability.

To her surprise, Kory's eyes sparkled with knowing amusement as she replied, "Is this about your crush on [name]?" It was as if Kory had a sixth sense for matters of the heart, a trait that simultaneously impressed and flustered Rachel.

Caught off guard, Rachel's blush deepened. Clearly, her stammering and awkward smiles hadn't gone unnoticed by the observant duo. Dick, leaning back on the couch, arched an eyebrow in a playful yet supportive manner. "Spill it, Rachel. We're all ears." Rachel took the opportunity and voiced her concerns.

Kory, always the beacon of optimism, offered a warm smile. "Rach, crushes are like constellations. They may seem distant and mysterious, but with time, you learn to navigate by the stars. Embrace the journey, and don't be afraid to enjoy the view."

Dick, ever the voice of reason, chimed in, "And remember, communication is key. If you're comfortable, talk to [name]. Be genuine, be yourself. Awkwardness can be endearing, you know."

Thus, she set off on her quest for your heart, then cringed when she called it that in her head. Rachel cleared her head, shook her body loose, and knocked on your door.

#whatology #x reader #xreader #gn!reader #titans #dctitans #rachel roth #rachel roth x reader #rachel roth x gn!reader

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bengiyo · 1 year ago

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Theory of Love Special Ep (Finale) Stray Thoughts

I am curious how I feel about this as the end of the Theory of Love run. I won't recap since we finished the show, but I went back into my own posts and I previously liked this despite having no memory of it.

Okay, as cheesy as it is, I do generally like when follow up outings acknowledge or tease their critics.

Oh that play with the names. I saw that. It's 2020 and we all verse now. (Side note. I do not remember associating this special with COVID lockdowns.)

It's kinda fun when the epilogue content happens before the actual ending. We know that they will get back together to form Hod Production and that they'll succeed.

Special Episode: Stand By Me

Oh, Third. You really had this man sleeping on the floor for multiple nights. Even as someone who wanted him to suffer, you aren't serious.

I'm not surprised Third and Khai ended up working together, and it's definitely good for Third's ego that Khai is being such a simp.

I was curious what hanging out for these guys would look like now that most of them are in committed relationships and Bone is healing from heartache.

Look at that, Khai. Growth. He was in a situation with some girls and made it clear he wasn't available. I will accept the incoming hijinks from this lipstick.

Yes, Khai, why did you lie?

I snorted at the camera guy having better communication with the director or cinematographer than Khai.

Did this girl suck on his neck? Why is he still hiding it? Just tell Third some drunk girl fell on you. Two saw it and Third trusts Two. Bone gets it.

I'm glad Third is aware that he's cute and actively maintaining it. Gun torments me regularly on IG.

I kinda like that Khai is being so ridiculous about this drunk girl situation. We know he's been at this for almost a year trying to prove his loyalty to Third.

This senior taking the graduation photo from them was one of the motorcycle guys in My Ride.

Aww, Bone. Do you think you're better off alone? Talk to me.

Any time someone points with their lips I laugh.

I love this confession in the car. Third is still testing Khai, but at least he knows Khai wasn't stepping out. I like that the resolution is one about how they're both trying to make this work despite the emotional baggage. I like the version of Khai that wants to honor Third.

These two made it four years and produced a movie together. I believe in their relationship if it's still going strong after making a highly successful film.

I am actually so into Khai doing multiple proposals to Third, elevating it each time.

Well, that was lovely.

Updated Verdict: 8.5, Recommended for Fans of Romance Cinema. I spent a lot of time over the last few days thinking about how I would recommend this series going forward. I think it is good on a lot of technical fronts, and there's a lot to like in the BTS: particularly Off using his own clothes to supplement Khai's wardrobe. Still, this show firmly sits right over the awkward line between BL and queerness that makes me uncomfortable with the genre sometimes.

Third's reticence to Khai only makes sense to me in a world where The Knowing occurs, and yet this is mostly a show in the bubble. So much of what's wrong with Third is because he's let the fantasy of romance films cloud his ability to have a mutually beneficial relationship with someone he loves. I do love when romance interrogates itself, and yet it feels like a hugely missed opportunity to discuss how queer people cannot rely on the presumptions of heteronormativity when building relationships with each other.

Moreover, I struggle with Khai's change narrative because I am not entirely certain who it's for. It reminds me of the Mulan problem, where we have a character who defies norms and expectations and it almost feels like the character exists to point to them and say, "You're not them." I have been hurt by guys like Khai, and none of them changed in a way that ever led to reconciliation for me. It's something I struggle with as I watch this, and it makes me wonder what the outcome of presenting this will be or the femmes and the gays who watch this since the Khai's of the world aren't watching.

Still, I will say that this show has incredibly fun structure if you know the major beats of the films used as the title for each episode. I think Off plays a jerk you begrudgingly want to root for really well. I think Mike actually did a really good job in this show and I apologize to Bone for being so pissy three years ago. Gun is beautiful and so easy to empathize with, but I gotta say that Third is not my favorite character of his.

I am glad @lurkingshan burned her coupons to make me revisit this show, and I've enjoyed having @waitmyturtles and @neuroticbookworm to talk about how I was feeling about things along the way. I don't think I love this show the way you three do, but it is a well-executed narrative doing some interesting things with the romance genre. My lingering hangups, and why I can't take it to a 9, have to do with the mixed bag of queerness in this. Third feels like a repressed gay, and Khai has a legit bisexual awakening, but the other cultural context being missing means it never connects for me as a queer narrative.

This is something I'm thinking about a lot as we head into Cooking Crush, because OffGun always leaves me a bit shaky on that front. On paper it's gay, but it never exactly feels gay for me.

Also tagging @twig-tea by request.

#Theory of Love #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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nerdforestgirl · 1 year ago

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Note: I didn’t do the whole Fluff Crawlspace thing this year, but today is still the 13th anniversary of the introduction of Amy Farrah Fowler. I don’t expect anyone to actually read this, but I still wanted to mark the occasion. Here’s one for old time’s sake if I still have any Shamy followers here.

Sheldon was sitting in his old apartment, playing video games with Leonard, Howard and Raj for their monthly video game night. He missed the place more now that he lived a few miles away in a house with Amy, but unlike Leonard and Penny who had a second bedroom for their son, Sheldon and Amy had to move as soon as they saw that second pink line on Amy's pregnancy test.

Still, he had this place. Where he lived for years with Leonard and then later also Penny. It didn't really feel like home anymore, but the comfort was still nice. Especially when things just seemed like they wouldn't stop changing. In the years since he won his Nobel, he and Amy had moved, had their son Leonard, and written a book together. It was a lot to happen in just four short years, but at least Sheldon still had his friends and his wife.

Speaking of his wife, Sheldon looked down at his watch. It was ticking close to nine.

“Oh, crud!” Sheldon said to no one in particular.

“Language, Sheldon,” Penny teased from the floor where she was playing with her son. They were working on a Duplo Lego taller than the boy.

“Sorry,” Sheldon said. He hated cursing in front of the kids. “Amy is going to kill me. The Last of Us starts in ten minutes, and the bus ride home will be nearly twice that long.”

“So? She doesn't like your nerd stuff,” Penny pointed out.

“She's really come around on many of my favorite shows. She insists on watching both The Last of Us and The Mandalorian every week,” Sheldon explained.

Howard, Raj, and Leonard all started laughing.

Sheldon looked around at his friends who all seemed to be laughing at him. He didn't understand what he said that was so funny. It was true that Amy had never been particularly into his interests, but she did enjoy both shows a great deal.

“You know what they say, if your girl watches The Last of Us and The Mandalorian, she's not your girl. She's Pedro Pascal's girl,” Leonard explained.

“No,” Sheldon argued, but it was true that those were the only shows that Amy enjoyed watching with him now. Plus she had recently suggested that they rewatch Game of Thrones. “No,” Sheldon said again in realization. Then he got up and ran down the stairs to catch a bus home. The elevator, broken for so long, still worked after being repaired. Sheldon just didn't have time to wait for it.

When Sheldon got home, Amy was creeping out of little Leonard's room. She must have just gotten the baby to sleep, so Sheldon pulled Amy away from the baby's door. He had spent enough sleepless nights with Leonard that even he would slap himself across his face for waking the boy.

“What's up?” Amy asked.

“Are you in love with Pedro Pascal?” Sheldon asked.

Amy let out a sigh and pitched the bridge of her nose. “Sheldon, I have never met Pedro Pascal,” she reminded him. She never knew where something like this came from with him.

“You didn't answer the question,” Sheldon said.

“No. I'm not in love with a man I've never met in my life. I'm in love with the crazy one standing in front of me now. You know, my husband and the father of my child,” Amy said.

Then it came back to Sheldon in a flash. The conception of said child. It was right after Sheldon came home from Comic-Con. When he was dressed as Din Djarin, the character played by Pedro Pascal. He came home that night, and Amy couldn't keep her hands off of Sheldon.

“The Mandalorian fathered my child!” Sheldon accused with a finger pointed at Amy.

“Sheldon, look at me. You fathered Leonard. He's your son. What has gotten into you?”

“The guys said that you only watch The Last of Us and The Mandalorian with me because you love Pedro Pascal,” Sheldon finally explained.

That was something that Amy could finally understand. And it wasn't exactly false. Amy had had a bit of a thing for Pedro Pascal since he was Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones. That didn't mean she was cheating on Sheldon. As far as her husband went, it mostly meant that she wished he'd grow a mustache. She wouldn't leave Sheldon for a movie star.

“Sheldon, he's a handsome man. So are you. Don't you ever want to watch something because someone in it is attractive?” Amy asked as she gently rubbed her husband's arm. Then she remembered who she was talking to. The only person on the planet she had ever heard him express attraction to was her. It made her feel a little dirty thinking about that because Sheldon was a lot of things, any loyal was number one.

“Can we still watch The Last of Us? I'm actually invested in the story now,” Amy said. The characters were facing a pretty big cliffhanger, and the previous week had mostly been a flashback. Amy really needed to know how it all ended.

“Yes,” Sheldon agreed. Mostly because he wanted to keep watching. Unlike Amy, he knew what would happen next because he played the game. He still wanted to watch it play out on screen.

“Good. And he's not more handsome than you,” Amy promised, but she had her fingers crossed behind her back. She didn't quite believe it. It was still what Sheldon needed to hear.

Two months later, Amy and Sheldon needed to fly to New York for a meeting about the paperback version of their book. Originally only Sheldon was going to go, but Leonard and Penny offered to watch Leonard. They insisted that Sheldon and Amy needed a couple days away with a big comfy bed, plenty of sleep, and maybe a few other things together. And what better place than where Sheldon and Amy spent their honeymoon.

“That guy looks like Pedro Pascal,” Amy muttered to Sheldon as they waited for their plane to New York. It wasn't exactly uncommon for them to see famous people in the first class lounge the publisher paid for, but Amy only thought the man bared a passing resemblance.

After their minor fight, Sheldon had mostly not brought up Pedro Pascal or her possible attraction to him after that. He just wouldn't allow them to make love after watching anything he was in. That was fine with Amy. Fungal zombies didn't exactly put her in the mood anyway.

Sheldon looked at the guy for a moment, but didn't say anything to Amy. Instead, he got up and stomped over to the guy Amy thought looked like Pedro Pascal. Amy was alarmed, so she followed him.

“You stay away from my wife,” Sheldon said in a firm voice as they got closer.

Amy realized in horror that the man she thought looked like Pedro Pascal was Pedro Pascal. She slid behind Sheldon in complete embarrassment, but she also pulled on his arm. Anything to get out of this situation.

“Excuse me?” Pedro Pascal said. He had been minding his own business up until then, and he was sure he had never seen this man before in his life.

“You stay away from my wife,” Sheldon repeated.

“Sheldon, we really don't need a headline saying Nobel Laureate fights Pedro Pascal at LAX,” Amy reminded him. Sheldon still often forgot that he was a public figure now. It didn't matter much in their normal life, but the press would eat this up. Plus, they might both have tenure now, but that didn't mean they couldn't be fired for something completely off the deep end like fighting one of the most famous men in the country at the airport.

Sheldon looked down at Amy and nodded. After a moment, he turned back to walk to where they abandoned their bags before they could be reported as such to security. She could still talk a small amount of sense into him on occasion, and Amy said a quick prayer of thanks that today was one of those times.

“I'm really sorry, Mr. Pascal. My husband and I are actually big fans. He just knows that I have a little bit of a crush on you. I don't know what got into him,” Amy lied. She knew full well that what got into Sheldon was Sheldon.

“Is that guy really a Nobel Laureate?” Pedro Pascal asked Amy.

“Yeah. We both won the Nobel Prize in physics a few years ago,” Amy said with a small smile. She thought about asking for a selfie, but she had already taken up enough of Pedro Pascal's time. She rejoined her husband, and worked to distract him until it was time to board their flight. She prayed they weren't sitting anywhere near Pedro Pascal.

A couple nights later, Amy was snuggled up to Sheldon's side watching one of those late night TV talk shows. They only watched them when little Leonard was having trouble going down to sleep because they were on late and Sheldon refused to have a TV in their bedroom. However, there was a TV here in the hotel room for Amy to flip through channels. She stopped when she saw a familiar face on the screen.

“And it turns out both he and the wife are Nobel Laureates, I swear to God,” Pedro Pascal said to the host.

“Oh no,” Amy said. Then she saw her phone light up. The name of the caller was President Seibert.

#Shamy fanfic #NFG fan fiction #fluff crawlspace

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julandran · 1 year ago

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Hi, tenor.

So, I recently binged my way through VoicePlay’s music videos on YouTube. (Hello, latest hyperfixation.) And I couldn’t help but notice that there was a period of a year or so when they were being particularly deliberate about some of their staging to ensure that their incredible tenor / short king, Eli, was boosted up to be closer to the other guys' heights. Specifically, during the era when both Earl and J.None were full-time members of the band, so everyone else was a fair bit taller than him.

(Side note: As someone of about the same height and prone to perching myself, I can totally understand if being up higher was at least partly his own preference. Shout out to my fellow kitchen counter and furniture arm sitters.)

Do I think it's necessary to hide the group's height differences? Absolutely not. And clearly neither do they, because there are plenty of videos where they don't do it. (Or just pop him on an apple box for closer-framed shots.) Which is part of why it caught my eye when it did happen. But it's interesting to look at their methods and degrees of adjusting as additional aspects of their creativity.

From a production standpoint, it makes a lot of sense to have everyone’s heads at roughly the same level in the visual frame. It can make camera and lighting setups simpler. Especially since they’re singing together, so we want to see their faces. But the deliberateness in some of the blocking is more successful than in others.

In my opinion, it seems most natural when the guys are in more varied positions that feel motivated by the set dressing. For example, in their videos for Tennessee Whiskey and Sh-Boom, they have someone standing / leaning and the rest seated on slightly staggered levels to create a line that arcs a bit, both vertically as well as away from the camera at the center. They also all have at least one foot off the floor. So Eli being on the highest seat with both feet up stands out less. It seems more like casual happenstance.

screencap from VoicePlay’s video for Tennessee Whiskey

promo image from VoicePlay’s video for Sh-Boom (Life Could Be a Dream)

Honorable mention to the Candy Girl section of their Boy Bands in 5 Minutes medley, which gives Eli a brief respite from being towered over, and gives all the guys a break from the dance choreography. It's a cluster rather than a line, but it has a similar effect as the other two examples.

screencap from VoicePlay’s video for their Boy Bands in 5 Minutes medley

It’s a bit more obvious when Eli’s the only one on a different level. I think they made it work fairly well in their video for Bridge Over Troubled Water, because he’s at the end of the row on a piano bench. So it feels like there’s a plausible meta-narrative reason for him to be there, maybe playing notes on the piano for pitch adjustments or warm-ups. But everyone else gets comfy armchairs, which feels a bit unfair.

promo image from VoicePlay’s video for Bridge Over Troubled Water

I also noticed it in their Thinkin Bout You video. Because the other four are in (different) upholstered armchairs, but Eli’s tucked between Geoff and J on a plain, armless wooden chair. To their credit, they did their best to adjust the spacing and camera angles to make it look like maybe there just wasn’t enough room in the three-walled set for a fifth wide seat. Honestly, I might have spotted this one only because I was looking for it by the time I watched that video, but now I can’t unsee it.

promo image from VoicePlay’s video for Thinkin Bout You

“Do you have a point in all of this?” I hear you asking. Well, kind of. It’s this:

Once I noticed that it was happening, every additional instance caught my eye. And then came Hide and Seek. It also has static staging, but it's much more spread out — partly to accommodate the green-screening of Lauren and Cesar, and partly in keeping with the Haunted Mansion theme. Eli is quite visibly elevated on a barrel top like the character from the theme park ride that is also in the portrait behind him.

screencap from VoicePlay’s video for Hide and Seek (Ding Dong), feat. Lauren Paley

But that brought to mind the darn bit from That 70s Show that’s now become a meme.

And now I guess you get to be reminded of it, as well. I take no pride in this. I just had to get it out of my weird brain.

My sincerest apologies to Eli for that last part if he somehow sees this. I mean no disrespect. We see you, and we definitely hear you. You’re an amazing singer and artist, somehow getting even better with each project. I hope that your recent, more comparably sized collaborators have been a nice change of pace.

#possibly overthinking things #filmmaking #VoicePlay #Eli Jacobson #Lift up your voice and sing.#(more literally than usual)#long post #queued

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halothenthehorns · 1 year ago

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Chapter 19: THE GODS VOTE HOW TO KILL US

"Very appropriate, didn't the Greeks invent democracy?" Magnus snorted.

"I hope they at least throw in some variety," Alex said. "Nobody ever talks about death by studying, death by laughter, death by meteorite hurtling down and hitting just one person."

"Now I'm over here wondering which god should I want to be least creative in the killings," Percy muttered.

"They clearly vote about as well as they react to news," Jason said, the saltiness in his voice surprising them. As fidgety as he'd been about Zeus in particular, it seemed strange he seemed so harsh on apparently fixing to get a good glimpse into them doing, well, anything of potential value.

Not that Percy considered his coming death, again, a potential value, but it was a heck of a lot more than sitting on his throne like the last time he'd been in Zeus's chamber.

Unless it wasn't Zeus at all, but that seemed like a slim chance. Clearly they were off to this acclaimed Winter Solstice Artemis was going to be so vital for.

He hoped she didn't vote to kill them after he'd just saved her life, she'd never called him a brave man then!

Flying was bad enough for a son of Poseidon, but flying straight up to Zeus's palace, with thunder and lightning swirling around it, was even worse.

"It's like playing ding-dong-ditch and being surprised when he blasts you out of the sky," Alex agreed.

"Thankfully didn't happen," Percy said, looking a little pale as he closely inspected his arms to make sure of that one.

We circled over midtown Manhattan, making one complete orbit around Mount Olympus. I'd only been there once before, traveling by elevator up to the secret six hundredth floor of the Empire State Building.

"I don't know why I thought you had to get in that way all the time," Magnus admitted. "I thought you three and those pegasi were going to squeeze into that tiny metal box and it was just going to magically expand for you."

"I imagine that guy in the lobby would throw his book at us if we tried," Percy shook his head. At least he got to skip the crappy elevator music and growing sense of inescapable dread. This did not feel any better though.

This time, if it was possible, Olympus amazed me even more.

"It had a pottery table this time?" Alex asked eagerly.

"I mean, I personally would have gone with world peace, but that sounds like a cool second," Thalia said with a twitching smile.

"Knowing Percy, it was flatscreen TVs and they installed a skate park," Will grinned.

"You say that like it wouldn't be amazing to have at camp," Percy grinned.

In the early-morning darkness, torches and fires made the mountainside palaces glow twenty different colors, from bloodred to indigo. Apparently no one ever slept on Olympus.

The twisting streets were full of demigods and nature spirits and minor godlings bustling about, riding chariots or sedan chairs carried by Cyclopes. Winter didn't seem to exist here. I caught the scent of the gardens in full bloom, jasmine and roses and even sweeter things I couldn't name. Music drifted up from many windows, the soft sounds of lyres and reed pipes.

Towering at the peak of the mountain was the greatest palace of all, the glowing white hall of the gods.

Our pegasi set us down in the outer courtyard, in front of huge silver gates. Before I could even think to knock, the gates opened by themselves.

Jokes aside, nobody looked particularly happy the home of the Gods seemed in full party mode. Zoe had just died on behalf of a war none of them even seemed concerned about.

Nico wondered if his dad had already overseen Bianca's passing through his place and moved on by that time to the same old bitter comments about how he wasn't allowed in on the cool god's stuff.

Good luck, boss, Blackjack said.

"Yeah." I didn't know why, but I had a sense of doom. I'd never seen all the gods together.

"That seems like a pretty good reason to me," Jason shivered into his chair for a moment.

"Make sure you mark that one in your diary, finally admitting I had one of those," Percy grinned. Jason rolled his eyes but then theatrically clicked an imaginary pen and scribbled something down just to keep Will laughing an extra second before he continued.

I knew any one of them could blast me to dust, and a few of them would like to.

"Does that finally sound like a good reason why you shouldn't have been making enemies with them?" Thalia asked without any hope.

"I still don't hear how it would have helped me to fake it either," Percy frowned, not entirely convinced even his dad would step in to stop it from happening. Maybe it just would have caused a few extra rainy days and a hundred years or so of annoyance at whoever did it before he was forgotten.

Hey, if ya don't come back, can I have your cabin for my stable?

"Percy, why aren't you sharing with him now?" Magnus chuckled at his very highly raised eyebrow. "I thought you'd be lonely in there without Tyson."

Percy mock considered for a moment before deciding, "he wouldn't hold up his end of the chores."

I looked at the pegasus.

Just a thought, he said. Sorry.

Blackjack and his friends flew off, leaving Thalia, Annabeth, and me alone. For a minute we stood there regarding the palace, the way we'd stood together in front of Westover Hall, what seemed like a million years ago.

Thalia made a soft hum of appreciation as she considered the things that changed and the things that would always be the same. She believed she and Percy would have always become friends, but that quest had solidified it.

If Annabeth had never gone missing though, maybe Percy wouldn't have foisted himself on this quest. Maybe a different Prophecy would have been spewed from the get go, and they never would have crossed the land without rain because Aprohite had dumped them in the middle of it.

There were to many factors, to many threads the Fates were always weaving about, but Thalia still vividly remembered standing on one side of Annabeth in that moment and feeling confident about the direction her life was going for the first time since she'd woken up.

And then, side by side, we walked into the throne room.

Twelve enormous thrones made a U around a central hearth, just like the placement of the cabins at camp. The ceiling above glittered with constellations—even the newest one, Zoe the Huntress, making her way across the heavens with her bow drawn.

All of the seats were occupied. Each god and goddess was about fifteen feet tall, and I'm telling you, if you've ever had a dozen all-powerful super-huge beings turn their eyes on you at once... Well, suddenly, facing monsters seemed like a picnic.

"Coming from a guy who's never been on a picnic, I don't know how to feel about that," Alex said without to much concern as she scratched at her nose.

Percy's mind immediately swiveled to wondering if he and Annabeth had ever been on one and he denied answering.

"Welcome, heroes," Artemis said.

"Mooo!"

"Was that supposed to be Ceres?" Jason asked. He seemed to have developed a nervous tick all his own as he winced over every other word like he still expected to be eviscerated on the spot for hearing of all this. Sacred, not meant for the ears of followers... but he was also smiling like a maniac and drinking in every word like Percy was holding him in place against his will.

"I was personally thinking of Ares, but I don't think that matches either," Percy shrugged all the same, though his mind lingered on Hera for some reason. Hadn't Annabeth once mentioned she liked cows?

That's when I noticed Bessie and Grover.

The collective smile of relief around the room gave Will an extra loud pitch to his voice as he continued. He was actually shouting reading in happiness for a second when he'd known that the whole time, it was just his particular weird joy about everybody being happy of the same thing.

Nico smiled to himself as he watched, the loudness of it right next to his ear not bothering him in the slightest. He wondered if that was an Apollo thing, or a Will thing, before the smile slipped off his face it would never be a him thing. Even if he had somehow managed to make a friend, it already seemed doomed against lasting.

A sphere of water was hovering in the center of the room, next to the hearth fire. Bessie was swimming happily around, swishing his serpent tail and poking his head out the sides and bottom of the sphere. He seemed to be enjoying the novelty of swimming in a magic bubble.

Alex chuckled with particular affection for that description and wondered if she could turn into Bessie, before the concerning reminder again flitted through she couldn't shape-shift in this place. She twitched unpleasantly and wanted to believe it was just a part of keeping the gods away. It wasn't a payoff she'd ever ask for Loki never visiting her dreams, but so long as it wasn't permanent and Oceanus wasn't trying to take away her gender fluidity, she wasn't going to freak out about it.

Grover was kneeling at Zeus's throne, as if he'd just been giving a report, but when he saw us, he cried, "You made it!"

He started to run toward me, then remembered he was turning his back on Zeus, and looked for permission.

Alex, Magnus, Percy, and Thalia all bristled at that, even if they knew they'd have done the exact same thing for fear of being blasted if they didn't. It was a principle of theirs, they didn't ask for permission to leave someone who they didn't respect.

"Go on," Zeus said. But he wasn't really paying attention to Grover. The lord of the sky was staring intently at Thalia.

Grover trotted over. None of the gods spoke. Every clop of Grover's hooves echoed on the marble floor. Bessie splashed in his bubble of water. The hearth fire crackled.

Magnus winced a little at his friend's name casually dropped in there and wondered yet again if he and Blitz were okay. He still felt like a jerk for not going back with him, and he hadn't even gotten to meet Annabeth for staying!

I looked nervously at my father, Poseidon. He was dressed similar to the last time I'd seen him: beach shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and sandals.

Will grinned in surprise and shuffled his feet around in amusement, the fwip-thwap of his shoes making an obvious noise. The next time somebody told him Demigods should wear proper foot attire at all times, Chiron!, he'd just casually mention he was inspired by Percy's dad!

He had a weathered, suntanned face with a dark beard and deep green eyes. I wasn't sure how he would feel about seeing me again, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with smile lines. He nodded as if to say It's okay.

Grover gave Annabeth and Thalia big hugs. Then he grasped my arms. "Percy, Bessie and I made it! But you have to convince them! They can't do it!"

Percy didn't even get a second to be pleased Grover was deferring to him to fix this like Thalia wasn't there, this most certainly wasn't in his skill level!

He was plenty freaked out he was being asked to convince anyone of anything! The last time he'd been there he hadn't even convinced Zeus Kronos was on the rise. He hadn't convinced Zoe not to throw him under the bus as she drove off until he saved her life! He didn't even know how he'd convinced Mr. D not to throw him off a roof?!

Annabeth would be able to do it, he realized with a soothing sense of warmth passing through him.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Heroes," Artemis called.

The goddess slid down from her throne and turned to human size, a young auburn haired girl, perfectly at ease in the midst of the giant Olympians. She walked toward us, her silver robes shimmering. There was no emotion in her face. She seemed to walk in a column of moonlight.

There had been no hint of the tears on her face for her lost lieutenant. All traces of her recent imprisonment might as well have been a figment of their imagination, as cold and impartial as the Goddess Percy had first met.

She didn't have to shrink down to their level to talk to them though. She hadn't needed to leave her throne to address them, and Percy found himself smiling at her the same way he had his dad even if he didn't appreciate the business like manner of it.

"The Council has been informed of your deeds," Artemis told us. "They know that Mount Othrys is rising in the West. They know of Atlas's attempt for freedom, and the gathering armies of Kronos. We have voted to act."

"Finally," Percy said none-to-bitterly. A sentiment shared by everyone else even as they winced and expected Percy to start melting before their eyes for his impertinent side against every immortal at once.

There was some mumbling and shuffling among the gods, as if they weren't all happy with this plan, but nobody protested.

"I would have sacrificed so many lion coats to have been there to see that," Percy said with a vindictive smile. He wanted to know which gods had eaten crow for not believing him in the first place, to watch Artemis tell them where they could shove it if anyone like Zeus himself had still tried to deny it.

"At my Lord Zeus's command," Artemis said, "my brother Apollo and I shall hunt the most powerful monsters, seeking to strike them down before they can join the Titans' cause. Lady Athena shall personally check on the other Titans to make sure they do not escape their various prisons. Lord Poseidon has been given permission to unleash his full fury on the cruise ship Princess Andromeda and send it to the bottom of the sea.

There was still a current of unease drifting about the room at all of these declarations that should have had them celebrating. Annabeth's gruesome confidence Luke was still alive nagged in the back of Jason's mind. The full might of the Gods should have been the most powerful thing, but somehow it didn't feel very impressive coming from these gods.

He tried to shake off such thoughts, but there was something about getting an even stranger taste of California that left him more frazzled than ever having these guys constantly described like somebody was trying to build an essential puzzle from the inside out.

And as for you, my heroes..."

She turned to face the other immortals. "These half-bloods have done Olympus a great service. Would any here deny that?"

She looked around at the assembled gods, meeting their faces individually. Zeus in his dark pin-striped suit, his black beard neatly trimmed, and his eyes sparking with energy. Next to him sat a beautiful woman with silver hair braided over one shoulder and a dress that shimmered colors like peacock feathers. The Lady Hera.

Jason looked very much like someone had taken his face off and put it on backwards. From the very beginning and now more defined than ever, there had been something so, off about these gods. He sympathized with Magnus a lot in this moment, he wanted to rant and scream at the world none of this made sense, even if none of it truly came as a shock to him.

On Zeus's right, my father Poseidon. Next to him, a huge lump of a man with a leg in a steel brace, a misshapen head, and a wild brown beard, fire flickering through his whiskers. The Lord of the Forges, Hephaestus.

Hermes winked at me. He was wearing a business suit today, checking messages on his caduceus mobile phone. Apollo leaned back in his golden throne with his shades on. He had iPod headphones on, so I wasn't sure he was even listening, but he gave me a thumbs-up.

Dionysus looked bored, twirling a grape vine between his fingers. And Ares, well, he sat on his chrome-and-leather throne, glowering at me while he sharpened a knife.

On the ladies' side of the throne room, a dark-haired goddess in green robes sat next to Hera on a throne woven of apple-tree branches. Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest. Next to her sat a beautiful gray-eyed woman in an elegant white dress. She could only be Annabeth's mother, Athena. Then there was Aphrodite, who smiled at me knowingly and made me blush in spite of myself.

All the Olympians in one place. So much power in this room it was a miracle the whole palace didn't blow apart.

Magnus still felt a weird disconnect at moments like this. To know he was, however distantly, related to these primordial beings through his cousin. To wonder vaguely who his own dad was. How none of this should be possible, because if it was the world was an even more screwed up place than he'd originally, bitterly thought it was for his mom being dead. For the countless things he saw every day that literal gods just, didn't seem to care enough to fix.

Percy met his eyes, and a flash of understanding passed between them. The anger and bitterness would linger, but the only 'solution' in sight felt like Luke's way. Magnus made the sign for hope his elf best friend had taught him. He didn't even know what he was hoping for exactly.

"I gotta say"—Apollo broke the silence—"these kids did okay." He cleared his throat and began to recite: "Heroes win laurels—"

"Um, yes, first class," Hermes interrupted, like he was anxious to avoid Apollo's poetry.

"I find myself not hating him for putting you on that Ship of Doom anymore," Alex expressed as if this would be a great letdown on Percy's part.

"I wasn't, really holding a grudge," Percy brushed at his hair in relief it had been any God to have derailed Apollo from that. He would have even said a silent thank you to Ares!

"All in favor of not disintegrating them?"

A few tentative hands went up—Demeter, Aphrodite.

"Disintegration? Really? That's the big vote?" Alex still looked deeply disappointed on their lack of creativity.

"He said not disintegrating them," Thalia cheerfully reminded, "so they're not even doing to good a job on kill votes anyways."

"One of these days I'm going to find a normal person who doesn't think these blasted chapter titles should be discussed every other paragraph," Percy huffed.

"Good luck with that," Will scoffed.

"Wait just a minute," Ares growled. He pointed at Thalia and me. "These two are dangerous. It'd be much safer, while we've got them here—"

Percy was already reaching for his pen, his mouth opening in dire protest that would surely get him disintegrated on the spot, vote or no vote. It was his curse that had sealed Zoe's fate! If Ares wanted another go, Percy was all to happy to give it to him with a live audience!

"Ares," Poseidon interrupted, "they are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits."

"Nor my daughter," Zeus grumbled. "She has done well."

Thalia still felt a proud smile creep across her face and the smallest hint of a blush. This was one of the two times she'd ever met her father. Far be it from him condemning her to Ares or Athena's warning, he had praised her!

It still didn't entirely erase the unease she felt, now stronger than ever as she kept a constant glance on Jason lest he vanish again.

Zeus could just as easily have thrown that bolt on that mountainside and still done an about-face to praise her for not destroying the Gods. She feared what he'd let happen to his own son...but Jason wasn't Zeus's son.

She sighed and traced the links around her bracelet, cross-examining and probing everything she'd thought she'd ever known. How was replenishing Percy's past only dragging her own into question?

Thalia blushed. She studied the floor. I knew how she felt. I'd hardly ever talked to my father, much less gotten a compliment.

Percy gave her a rousing clap on the shoulder though and grinned broadly around the room so that everyone could bask in his good mood for just a minute, and she smiled willingly along. Whatever answers she found, it could only help.

She snorted and shook her head as she looked wistfully beyond Percy to where Annabeth should be. Those two were a bad influence on her punk-rock motif.

The goddess Athena cleared her throat and sat forward. "I am proud of my daughter as well. But there is a security risk here with the other two."

"Ouch!" Magnus yelped. "No help from where I thought you'd get." Annabeth had warned all the way back then though Athena and Poseidon didn't get along, her initial dislike of Percy. Guess they were about to get that in vivid display.

"Mother!" Annabeth said. "How can you—"

Athena cut her off with a calm but firm look. "It is unfortunate that my father, Zeus, and my uncle, Poseidon,

Percy still made a puckering face everybody kept reminding of how they were all related though. He'd be much happier forgetting titles like that.

chose to break their oath not to have more children. Only Hades kept his word, a fact that I find ironic.

Percy winced so hard bubbles made a little exclamation mark of pain over his head and then shot straight into the ceiling, raining more dust and only one chunk of marble down that landed in the middle. Percy kept his eyes solely focused on that, terrified if he even flicked his eyes to the kid that could summon ghosts he'd lose it all over again!

Nico had winced exactly the same, but he went too still, frozen in place like he still expected someone to lunge at his throat.

Thalia laughed and said, "thanks Percy, I'll need that later when I want to break your face instead."

Will made a soft, humming noise in the back of his throat Nico found soothing, it chased the chill away and finally clicked somewhere in the back of his mind how Will kept doing that without healing him.

"Athena is seriously pushing everybody's buttons today," Jason murmured for himself, flipping his coin through his fingers in thought.

Athena, Greek goddess of Wisdom, didn't know. It was possible none of the gods even knew of who Nico and Bianca were.

It was a question that had been on his mind back during the first book, if Zeus had known of Percy's lineage before Poseidon had claimed him, and it seemed not. Half-bloods could apparently go throughout life without even an infallible God really guessing...but the idea left a bad taste in his mouth. Unlike the many feelings and vague notions he had about a handful of names and the state of California, this feeling left him sour and more confused than ever. He still didn't feel like he was getting anywhere close to figuring out what he was like before he lost his memories, and it was really starting to trouble him if he'd even be recognizable to a person he might have left behind when he finally figured out how to get back if he couldn't get a single solid scrap about himself down pat.

He felt defensive of Thalia. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover in particular all weirded him out if he thought about them to long. He loved to ask questions. These gods gave him a splitting headache.

That was it. The four defining things he could share with...he gave a dissatisfied sigh and shook out his head, concentrating on the book for now. It was pointless to keep pestering what he couldn't get an answer to for now.

He felt Thalia's troubled eyes on him though and spared her a brief smile and tried to relax back into his seat. The position felt unnatural, like his spine didn't know how to slouch, but she gave him a returning smile for the effort.

As we know from the Great Prophecy, children of the three elder gods... such as Thalia and Percy... are dangerous. As thickheaded as he is, Ares has a point."

"It scares me a little to hear them agreeing actually," Will shivered. Annabeth and Clarisse were lethal enough on the rare game they decided to team up and get along, their parents would be a frightening thing.

Jason had his face so scrunched up he looked like he was trying to swallow his tongue. Everything about this place always felt like a mirror. So similar, so fundamentally different...

"Right!" Ares said. "Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin'—"

He started to get up, but a grape vine grew around his waist like a seat belt and pulled him back down.

"Never would have pictured Mr. D for that whole safety first thing, but it feels right," Magnus snorted.

"Now if only he would strap in all the gods until they get the wine out of their ears and really listen," Alex nodded along.

"Oh, please, Ares," Dionysus sighed. "Save the fighting for later."

Ares cursed and ripped away the vine. "You're one to talk, you old drunk. You seriously want to protect these brats?"

That was an awkward question that hung around every day at camp. Will fiddled with the page for a moment debating if he wanted to read the answer before he reminded himself it wasn't nice to Percy to skip regardless of his feelings.

Dionysus gazed down at us wearily. "I have no love for them. Athena, do you truly think it safest to destroy them?"

Percy and Thalia exchanged amused looks at that answer, however. Dionysius was an enigma wrapped in a bottle of vintage. For a god who had no love for them, he sure showed it in funny ways by distracting Ares and saving their life.

"I do not pass judgment," Athena said. "I only point out the risk. What we do, the Council must decide."

"I will not have them punished," Artemis said. "I will have them rewarded. If we destroy heroes who do us a great favor, then we are no better than the Titans. If this is Olympian justice, I will have none of it."

"Seriously, favorite goddess though," Alex said, but she seemed kind of annoyed about it still. The bar really wasn't that high in comparison of the others. Like she could trip over it.

"Calm down, sis," Apollo said. "Jeez, you need to lighten up."

"I feel like Apollo always says that before he throws a beam of sunlight at you," Jason said uneasily.

"And you're lucky if he remembers whether your mortal or not when he does," Thalia agreed in exasperation.

"Don't call me sis! I will reward them."

"None of us are arguing the point," Percy promised, but he still had a fidgety unease about him. The fact that she kept having to insist this made him worried what else had been debated before they showed up.

"Well," Zeus grumbled. "Perhaps. But the monster at least must be destroyed. We have agreement on that?"

A lot of nodding heads.

It took me a second to realize what they were saying. Then my heart turned to lead.

"Bessie? You want to destroy Bessie?"

"What did you think was going to happen when you sent the monster that could destroy them into their lair?" Jason tried really hard not to sound condescending.

"That they'd see the cute baby-cow serpent and give him some hay!" Percy yelped. "Maybe a good speech about staying away from the Minotaur until this war is over!" Percy still felt plenty condescended as he mind blanked on anything else he could have done. The local aquarium would probably be a little confused if he dropped off Bessie in a basket.

Jason kept the thought to himself Percy was being rather naïve.

"Mooooooo!" Bessie protested.

My father frowned. "You have named the Ophiotaurus Bessie?"

"The highlight of my day," Alex still promised.

"Your dad's probably just jealous he didn't get to name him, I bet they're buddies and he builds Bessie an awesome barn," Will chuckled.

"Dad," I said, "he's just a sea creature. A really nice sea creature. You can't destroy him."

Poseidon shifted uncomfortably. "Percy, the monster's power is considerable. If the Titans were to steal it, or—"

"You can't," I insisted. I looked at Zeus. I probably should have been afraid of him, but I stared him right in the eye.

Nico's dreams had indulged many a fantasy his waking mind would never allow. A shiver passed through him as he heard the whispers of one of his most recent ones in that. Percy and him uniting with Hades to overthrow this guy once and for all. Percy cutting off Zeus's head as lightning crackled around with no effect and smiling only for him. Creating actual balance for all...

"Controlling the prophecies never works. Isn't that true? Besides, Bess—the Ophiotaurus is innocent. Killing something like that is wrong. It's just as wrong as... as Kronos eating his children, just because of something they might do. It's wrong!"

"Chiron owes you an A+ just for the execution of that," Jason grinned.

"Only took me twelve years to get that on one test," Percy smiled.

Zeus seemed to consider this. His eyes drifted to his daughter Thalia. "And what of the risk? Kronos knows full well, if one of you were to sacrifice the beast's entrails, you would have the power to destroy us. Do you think we can let that possibility remain? You, my daughter, will turn sixteen on the morrow, just as the prophecy says."

"Thank you for the exposition dump nobody needed," Thalia said with an uneasy scowl. He'd just complimented her for not taking that opportunity!

"You have to trust them," Annabeth spoke up. "Sir, you have to trust them."

Zeus scowled. "Trust a hero?"

The fact that this seemed like such a foreign idea to him grated on all of them badly. Were they nothing more than pawns and errand runners? This guy was supposed to be better than Kronos, right?

"Does he not trust his own daughter, the greatest hero in that room?" Percy demanded of the salt around them, fire in his eyes.

Thalia just shook her head in amusement and waved Will on, touched but also pleased he'd held that in back in the throne room. She was worried this room was giving him too loose a tongue, and by the time they got back he'd have some massive brawl with the first god he laid eyes on.

"Annabeth is right," Artemis said. "Which is why I must first make a reward. My faithful companion, Zoe Nightshade, has passed into the stars. I must have a new lieutenant. And I intend to choose one. But first, Father Zeus, I must speak to you privately."

"Did she need his permission before asking you officially?" Jason asked.

"It's polite, and we don't want to offend Zeus if we're sane," she said with a pointed look at Percy who had a shoe propped up on his knee and was fidgeting with his shoelaces in mild boredom.

Zeus beckoned Artemis forward. He leaned down and listened as she spoke in his ear.

A feeling of panic seized me. "Annabeth," I said under my breath. "Don't."

Percy's jaw was locked tight enough to crack whale bones as he kept twisting the aglet on his shoe as tight as it would go and then slowly letting it unwind in his hand, repeating the motion over and over and concentrating on just that. Gods he did not want her to go, but apparently, in her mind he was no better than Luke and he'd never given her a reason to stay...

She frowned at me. "What?"

"Honestly Percy, haven't you learned by now telling someone not to do something just makes them want to more," Thalia agreed in an obnoxiously cheerful tone to Percy's ears. Percy had somehow managed to tangle his laces together into a knot.

Nico bit his lip hard to stop himself laughing she was almost mocking the poor guy, because she knew how it worked out. He danced with the idea for just a split second if he'd ever have had a shot if Annabeth did join and leave Percy broken hearted, but then he remembered he was still down at Camp waiting like a dumbass, probably playing in the mud like a toddler for everyone to come back and tell him the coolest story ever. He didn't know how it would have gone worse than that day, but this turn of events couldn't have made any of it better.

"Look, I need to tell you something," I continued. The words came stumbling out of me. "I couldn't stand it if... I don't want you to—"

Every sappy love song his mother had ever sang to herself, every poem he'd heard snippets of in his life, every flash of seeing her from that first day to this moment raced through his mind in a dizzying, sickening swirl. He wondered if this is how getting punched by Cupid felt.

He loved her. That's what it all boiled down to. He didn't know how or when exactly it had happened, but she was about to run off and never come back again and this time he couldn't save her.

"Percy?" she said. "You look like you're going to be sick."

And that's how I felt. I wanted to say more, but my tongue betrayed me. It wouldn't move because of the fear in my stomach. And then Artemis turned.

"I shall have a new lieutenant," she announced. "If she will accept it."

"No," I murmured.

"Thalia," Artemis said. "Daughter of Zeus. Will you join the Hunt?"

Thalia mock wiped a tear away as Percy jumped so bad he fell out of his seat. "Did you just forget I existed for a few moments there kelp head?"

Percy looked up at her sheepishly. Obviously, he hadn't, he'd just been convinced Annabeth had gone with her. Annabeth was the obvious first choice to him to any question. He still wasn't convinced that hadn't happened and swallowed his stomach full of nerves he was about to blurt all of that out to her any second and she'd laugh in his face.

Stunned silence filled the room. I stared at Thalia, unable to believe what I was hearing.

Annabeth smiled. She squeezed Thalia's hand and let it go, as if she'd been expecting this all along.

"We'd talked about it, before," Thalia admitted to them. "I asked her if the Hunt had ever bothered her in recent times and she admitted Zoe had been around, given her the pamphlet and the spiel just before school started. I wasn't happy and wanted to summon that pretentious princess and tell her where she could shove that pamphlet," the amount of affection she managed to say for Zoe couldn't be denied as she smiled, "but instead, Annabeth and I, talked." She finished with an exhausted sigh. Her little sister had been so terrified of losing her to the Prophecy she'd kept that flier in hopes Thalia would just consider it, and it had been in the back of her mind this whole quest. Losing Luke like that had just solidified everything for her in this moment Annabeth had been right about her all along and what she really needed, as usual.

"I will," Thalia said firmly.

Zeus rose, his eyes full of concern. "My daughter, consider well—"

"Father," she said. "I will not turn sixteen tomorrow. I will never turn sixteen. I won't let this prophecy be mine. I stand with my sister Artemis. Kronos will never tempt me again."

She knelt before the goddess and began the words I remembered from Bianca's oath, what seemed like so long ago.

Nico sniffed quietly beside Will and tried to tell himself one more time it was over. Bianca's life had come full circle and he had to stop dwelling on her doing the very same. Percy wasn't holding a grudge for Thalia abandoning him to the Prophecy.

"I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men..."

Afterward, Thalia did something that surprised me almost as much as the pledge. She came over to me, smiled, and in front of the whole assembly, she gave me a big hug.

I blushed.

When she pulled away and gripped my shoulders, I said, "Um... aren't you supposed to not do that anymore? Hug boys, I mean?"

"I'm honoring a friend," she corrected. "I must join the Hunt, Percy. I haven't known peace since... since Half-Blood Hill. I finally feel like I have a home. But you're a hero. You will be the one of the prophecy."

"A few more hours," Percy still griped, just a bit. "Couldn't you have waited just a few more hours to go through with this? Maybe this was the decision that saved Olympus." He looked more resigned and exasperated than truly frustrated with her though.

Thalia gave him a sad, weak smile. Percy had just said it himself, trying to control the prophecy into the outcome she wanted would never have worked. There had been no world of endless sleep on the top of Mount Tam, but really, maybe that line could have applied to Zoe falling to an endless sleep at the feet of her father holding the world. Maybe if she'd hesitated a moment longer Luke would have made the same choice.

She just offered her hand to help Percy back into his seat and shrugged without answering. It was what it was, and they were here for Percy to remember that, not jump down every rabbit hole of what could have been.

"Great," I muttered.

"I'm proud to be your friend."

She hugged Annabeth, who was trying hard not to cry. Then she even hugged Grover, who looked ready to pass out,

"A small reminder dreams come true," Alex raised an unimpressed brow but snorted in delight all the same that had probably been his reward.

like somebody had just given him an all-you-can-eat enchilada coupon.

Then Thalia went to stand by Artemis's side.

Where she never thought she'd want to leave. Thalia still gave a forlorn sigh and shivered in her camo. Artemis would understand her desire to track down which god had done this to her brother, she was sure of it.

"Now for the Ophiotaurus," Artemis said.

"This boy is still dangerous," Dionysus warned. "The beast is a temptation to great power. Even if we spare the boy—"

"No." I looked around at all the gods. "Please. Keep the Ophiotaurus safe.

"Not, no, no if's or ands about killing me after I saved your thrones, again! It's, no, don't hurt the baby cow serpent," Magnus repeated just in case they'd missed that.

"Are you that used to hearing everything twice? You weren't even signing when you said that," Percy rolled his eyes, clearly still not getting why the guy seemed astonished over that.

My dad can hide him under the sea somewhere, or keep him in an aquarium here in Olympus. But you have to protect him."

"And why should we trust you?" rumbled Hephaestus.

"Because he's asking you to protect him rather than using him to kill you all," Magnus said in a supremely, 'duh,' kind of voice.

"Because he named him Bessie!" Alex concluded as if this were the be all of points to make.

"Remind me to bring you two to the next meeting," Percy chuckled.

"I'm only fourteen," I said. "If this prophecy is about me, that's two more years."

Jason, Alex, and Magnus all studied Nico curiously for a few moments. The answer had always felt obvious it would be Percy, and yet Thalia and Nico had been thrown into the mix back to back.

Now with Thalia at forever fifteen, it did make Percy the oldest by default again...but Nico's age wasn't particularly obvious to them. He looked small and skinny, especially always so tucked tight down in his seat most of the time.

Did being pulled out of time, already making him pass his sixteenth birthday long ago leave him disqualified? There still seemed plenty of mystery left what the heck happened up there, or if it had even come to fruition yet.

"Two years for Kronos to deceive you," Athena said. "Much can change in two years, my young hero."

Percy's mind twinged painfully, scattered memories and feelings he yet had even the vaguest impression about. Rachel lingered oddly in his mind as he again looked to where she'd been sitting. He rubbed his temple and already knew Athena was annoyingly right about that.

"Mother!" Annabeth said, exasperated.

"It is only the truth, child. It is bad strategy to keep the animal alive. Or the boy."

"Wouldn't the best strategy be to have a counter in play," Magnus looked vaguely annoyed, and Percy didn't even have to pretend to not know why this time. "He's yet failed a quest, and they can't just keep pretending this prophecy won't happen forever. Wouldn't the strategic thing be to have a demigod on their side as badass as the one who's threatening Olympus?" Did they still not even consider Luke a real risk just because he wasn't a kid of three in particular?

Jason looked queasy. Arguing with a god, arguing with Minerva- Athena, ugh. He'd rather go back to laughing about Percy's hilariously inept ability to confess his undying love to Annabeth.

My father stood. "I will not have a sea creature destroyed, if I can help it. And I can help it."

He held out his hand, and a trident appeared in it: a twenty foot long bronze shaft with three spear tips that shimmered with blue, watery light. "I will vouch for the boy and the safety of the Ophiotaurus."

"Ooh, now we mean business," Alex said with a wild grin.

"Please don't encourage them," Thalia groaned.

"You won't take it under the sea!" Zeus stood suddenly. "I won't have that kind of bargaining chip in your possession."

"Brother, please," Poseidon sighed.

Zeus's lightning bolt appeared in his hand, a shaft of electricity that filled the whole room with the smell of ozone.

"No, no, now business will get done," Magnus chuckled, and Thalia sighed in defeat they were all doomed if Percy did try to smuggle them in.

"Fine," Poseidon said. "I will build an aquarium for the creature here. Hephaestus can help me. The creature will be safe. We shall protect it with all our powers.

"So now if Bessie gets hurt, the gods can all accuse each other and start another war, this doesn't sound like a better idea," Jason shook his head uneasily.

"I'll take the compromise of Bessie not being dead," Percy said with relief.

The boy will not betray us. I vouch for this on my honor."

A breath wooshed out of Percy like his dad had given him a bear hug. This was beyond just a compliment. This felt like something more. Trust.

Zeus thought about this. "All in favor?"

To my surprise, a lot of hands went up. Dionysus abstained. So did Ares and Athena. But everybody else...

"We have a majority," Zeus decreed. "And so, since we will not be destroying these heroes... I imagine we should honor them. Let the triumph celebration begin!"

"Just like that hu?" Alex did not look impressed. Probably because nobody was maimed.

"I'll take the win," Percy promised.

"The only person who got a reward was Thalia though," Will frowned on Percy and Annabeth's behalf. "And Grover, if you count him getting a hug from a Huntress finally, but Thalia gave him that." It really was no wonder Percy so often looked troubled at just the thought of his dad. No matter what he did, he couldn't even get offered a cool new skateboard or something?

"Trust me Will, I am plenty happy with how the day turned out," Percy insisted. Annabeth was okay! They both needed a serious nap, but after surviving, it was all the reward he would have wanted from this anyways.

There are parties, and then there are huge, major, blowout parties. And then there are Olympian parties. If you ever get a choice, go for the Olympian.

"Are you saying the college frat parties with cheap beer don't compare?" Nico snorted. At least there if you accidentally stepped on somebody's toga you didn't risk being blasted to ash.

"I wouldn't know, I've never been to one," Percy chuckled, snapping his fingers to a tune only in his head and looking longingly towards the other rooms again for the fridge and a bed with good arch support. What he really wanted now was this book to be over before anything else bad happened...then he realized who had said that to him and did a double take at Nico and swallowed awkwardly.

He was up on Olympus milling through the crowd to find Annabeth while Nico was back at Camp still waiting. A ghostly wail still made goose bumps across the back of his neck when he looked to long at him and wondered how the hell he'd ever explained all this to the kid back then.

He was at least smiling lightly right now, whispering quietly to Will for just a moment what other cliches that were worth finding and avoiding at parties, so Percy managed to push it away for a little while longer and pretend everything turned out fine.

The Nine Muses cranked up the tunes, and I realized the music was whatever you wanted it to be: the gods could listen to classical and the younger demigods heard hip-hop or whatever, and it was all the same sound track. No arguments. No fights to change the radio station. Just requests to crank it up.

"Please tell me your dad can install that at camp," Percy asked of Will. For some reason he had a Jessie McCartney song in his head.

"He does owe us a good spoil," Will agreed distractedly, he still hadn't even gotten Nico to admit if he'd ever even been to a party.

Dionysus went around growing refreshment stands out of the ground, and a beautiful woman walked with him arm in arm—his wife, Ariadne. Dionysus looked happy for the first time.

"It's a good thing nobody tried to drag that council meeting out longer, he might have voted on that death by homework after all," Thalia chuckled. He'd still managed to look as miserable and bored in the throne room as ever. What he'd really wanted was this time right here, as much of it as he could get before his banishment resumed.

Nectar and ambrosia overflowed from golden fountains, and platters of mortal snack food crowded the banquet tables. Golden goblets filled with whatever drink you wanted.

Grover trotted around with a full plate of tin cans and enchiladas, and his goblet was full of double-espresso latte, which he kept muttering over like an incantation: "Pan! Pan!"

"Good of him to keep his dreams alive," Jason said wearily.

"So long as he doesn't summon any more pigs," Percy agreed.

"I wonder what kind of creamer he thinks will help most with that," Alex chuckled.

Gods kept coming over to congratulate me. Thankfully, they had reduced themselves to human size, so they didn't accidentally trample partygoers under their feet. Hermes started chatting with me, and he was so cheerful I hated to tell him what had happened to his least favorite son, Luke, but before I could even get up the courage, Hermes got a call on his caduceus and walked away.

Percy was getting really good at pretending to himself that conversation was never going to happen either as he gave an uneasy smile and was glad that among the winces, nobody else wanted to linger on that either.

Apollo told me I could drive his sun chariot any time, and if I ever wanted archery lessons—

"Thanks," I told him. "But seriously, I'm no good at archery."

"Ah, nonsense," he said. "Target practice from the chariot as we fly over the U.S.? Best fun there is!"

A burning flare of jealousy lit Will at hearing that and Percy's nervous laugh as he looked wild-eyed at him to keep going. His dad had never offered him that, he hadn't offered it to any of his kids in years.

I made some excuses and wove through the crowds that were dancing in the palace courtyards. I was looking for Annabeth. Last I saw her, she'd been dancing with some minor godling.

Magnus yelped in fear, "gods tell me it wasn't Hercules!"

"No," Percy said forcefully at once, then added a great sigh of relief, he obviously would have dulled him to the death on the spot. That might have made Zeus mad, again, and he wanted that dance with Annabeth first. "I'm not sure who, couldn't guess from the dress, but I think she had something to do with fire? Annabeth seemed to know her," Percy said from the brief glimpse he'd seen.

Thalia smiled, and rolled her eyes at the idiot. It had been Hestia, how had he never stopped to see her at the Camp's hearth?

Then a man's voice behind me said, "You won't let me down, I hope."

I turned and found Poseidon smiling at me.

"Dad... hi."

"Hello, Percy. You've done well."

His praise made me uneasy. I mean, it felt good, but I knew just how much he'd put himself on the line, vouching for me. It would've been a lot easier to let the others disintegrate me.

"I won't let you down," I promised.

He nodded. I had trouble reading gods' emotions, but I wondered if he had some doubts.

Percy was still shuffling around, though now there was no beat in his head to go along. It felt stilted, he'd swear an organ was playing some haunted house music. Maybe with a hint of a light at the end of the tunnel though? Hopefully it wasn't a train.

"Your friend Luke—"

"He's not my friend," I blurted out. Then I realized it was probably rude to interrupt. "Sorry."

"Your former friend Luke," Poseidon corrected.

"You really did luck out with the best dad," Thalia told him with an uneasy sigh. Her dad hadn't sought out her at this party in their honor. He sure wouldn't have corrected himself, let alone not turned her into a flamingo if she interrupted in the first place.

"Seems like it," Percy agreed as he looked around fondly at the ocean floor.

"He once promised things like that. He was Hermes's pride and joy.

Jason shifted around uncomfortably as he wondered what had changed about all that. Had Hermes ever said anything like that to him? Had it been because he failed one quest and Hermes had moved on to another of his many kids? He stared down at the tattoo on his arm and wondered if his parent even knew he was missing, let alone cared.

Just bear that in mind, Percy. Even the bravest can fall."

"Luke fell pretty hard," I agreed. "He's dead."

"Percy, for the literal win," Magnus gave him an only half-sarcastic thumbs up while Percy mustered some kind of smile back. He'd said that explicitly so his dad would agree with him, maybe help Annabeth find some closure rather than her strange denial.

Poseidon shook his head. "No, Percy. He is not."

Percy seethed for several loud moments in his head about this. Looks like everybody got a reward tonight, whether they'd deserved it or not! He forced himself to keep paying attention though and didn't even consider taking back that thanks for his dad. Maybe Poseidon could finally answer why Luke seemed so unbeatable, practically an immortal himself!

I stared at him. "What?"

"I believe Annabeth told you this.

Was nothing sacred? There was an unhappy moment where they all exchanged uneasy looks for the God of the Ocean just, casually knowing that. Unless Blackjack had tattled on Percy, there seemed no good reason why he did.

Luke still lives. I have seen it. His boat sails from San Francisco with the remains of Kronos even now. He will retreat and regroup before assaulting you again.

"I do love his use of the word assaulting," Percy sighed, giving an imaginary thanks to his dad again for correctly pinning that word to his entire life.

I will do my best to destroy his boat with storms, but he is making alliances with my enemies, the older spirits of the ocean. They will fight to protect him."

"How can he be alive?" I said. "That fall should've killed him!"

Poseidon looked troubled. "I don't know, Percy, but beware of him. He is more dangerous than ever. And the golden coffin is still with him, still growing in strength."

"What about Atlas?" I said. "What's to prevent him from escaping again? Couldn't he just force some giant or something to take the sky for him?"

My father snorted in derision. "If it were so easy, he would have escaped long ago. No, my son. The curse of the sky can only be forced upon a Titan, one of the children of Gaia and Ouranous. Anyone else must choose to take the burden of their own free will. Only a hero, someone with strength, a true heart, and great courage, would do such a thing. No one in Kronos's army would dare try to bear that weight, even upon pain of death."

"Luke did it," I said. "He let Atlas go. Then he tricked Annabeth into saving him and used her to convince Artemis to take the sky."

"Yes," Poseidon said. "Luke is... an interesting case."

I think he wanted to say more, but just then, Bessie started mooing from across the courtyard. Some demigods were playing with his water sphere, joyously pushing it back and forth over the top of the crowd.

"The only way I can imagine a beach ball not being a fun and good distraction," Alex sighed.

"I'm just grateful for Poseidon's priorities," Will admitted, he'd want to go rescue the baby cow-serpent too.

Jason looked like he was slowly being crushed to death by the sky next at these inept versions of deities. Bessie had been in their care for mere hours and was already being mishandled like a toy!

"I'd better take care of that," Poseidon grumbled. "We can't have the Ophiotaurus tossed around like a beach ball. Be good, my son. We may not speak again for some time."

"Because once a year if you're lucky was already a luxury," Magnus muttered.

And just like that he was gone.

I was about to keep searching the crowd when another voice spoke. "Your father takes a great risk, you know."

I found myself face-to-face with a gray-eyed woman who looked so much like Annabeth I almost called her that.

"Athena." I tried not to sound resentful, after the way she'd written me off in the council, but I guess I didn't hide it very well.

She smiled dryly. "Do not judge me too harshly, half-blood. Wise counsel is not always popular, but I spoke the truth. You are dangerous."

Percy didn't look very pleased with that assessment and fidgeted on the spot as he imagined his dad now telling Annabeth she should chill out more and maybe drink a pina colada.

"You never take risks?"

She nodded. "I concede the point.

He looked just a bit proud of himself though he'd gotten the Goddess of wisdom to say that. Thalia sighed but let him have that win while he could.

You may perhaps be useful. And yet... your fatal flaw may destroy us as well as yourself."

Percy was aghast as he looked wildly around at Will now for him to scream 'gotcha!' He didn't even know what his fatal flaw was!

My heart crept into my throat. A year ago, Annabeth and I had had a talk about fatal flaws. Every hero had one. Hers, she said, was pride. She believed she could do anything... like holding up the world, for instance. Or saving Luke. But I didn't really know what mine was.

Athena looked almost sorry for me. "Kronos knows your flaw, even if you do not. He knows how to study his enemies. Think, Percy. How has he manipulated you? First, your mother was taken from you. Then your best friend, Grover. Now my daughter, Annabeth."

"Err," Magnus looked very concerned at that summary. "All of those were outside of Kronos's influence though...right?!" He remembered Hearth's guess about Luke somehow setting up Grover's initial escape from Polyphemus and felt miserable his friend wasn't around to be right, but that only made this feel all the more dangerous. If the Titan had really somehow set up, even in the smallest way possible, to influence Hades's taking Sally in that moment and Thorn dipping out with Annabeth meant they had vastly been underestimating just how much control the Crooked One had over every part of these stories.

Nobody answered him, not even Alex as she twisted her fingers into her hair and pulled uneasily, knowing all to well what kind of manipulation was being implied there.

She paused, disapproving. "In each case, your loved ones have been used to lure you into Kronos's traps.

"And the traps have failed every time," Jason reminded as he shifted around uneasily in his seat. That headache was back full force trying to imagine a conversation with Athena. Unlike with Ares, there wasn't a hint of confusion on his part how different she felt to her core, in every word she spoke.

Your fatal flaw is personal loyalty, Percy. You do not know when it is time to cut your losses. To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world. In a hero of the prophecy, that is very, very dangerous."

Will looked appalled those words had crossed his tongue, and he didn't need Percy shouting the book's next line to think it himself. The fine, slippery line of the butterfly effect of who was saved causing other events had nothing on the powers blessed by Apollo. The very defining trait of being a Hero was to stop and help without knowing the outcome. Sometimes that meant a god in disguise would give you immortality, and sometimes it meant you just assisted your worst enemy down the line.

I balled my fists. "That's not a flaw. Just because I want to help my friends—"

"The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation," she said. "Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom... that is very hard indeed."

I wanted to argue, but I found I couldn't. Athena was pretty darn smart.

Alex was more than happy to though. "She helped you rescue Annabeth though. If she's so sure trying your hardest to rescue those you care about has no greater purpose, why show up at all?"

"Because she would have cut her losses if it hadn't worked I guess," Magnus said hoarsely, his hands shaking in disgust. These gods really got worse and worse the more he heard of them, he couldn't imagine a parent trying to paint this in a bad light. He wondered how Athena felt about Annabeth's 'fatal flaw.' Was she proud wisdom's daughter needed to occasionally be reminded she couldn't do everything better than everyone around her?

They were so, alien. He was still dumbfounded over Zeus being surprised that he should trust a hero. These gods were so disconnected from the world, how on earth did they function within it?

"I hope the Council's decisions prove wise," Athena said. "But I will be watching, Percy Jackson. I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter. I do not think it wise for either of you. And should you begin to waver in your loyalties..."

She fixed me with her cold gray stare, and I realized what a terrible enemy Athena would make, ten times worse than Ares or Dionysus or maybe even my father. Athena would never give up. She would never do something rash or stupid just because she hated you, and if she made a plan to destroy you, it would not fail.

Percy's heart froze in his chest. The thrill of fear that lanced through him made any time before seem like a mild, silly fright.

Yet when he tentatively glanced over at Magnus, just daring himself to get it out of the way now so the color didn't shock him back to this feeling again later, he still saw the familiar grey color and smiled. Annabeth's cousin looked miffed at the threat and was signing something he couldn't hope to guess while Alex watched in avid detail and slowly mimicked him.

Annabeth was going to be so annoyed at him for being left out of every conversation that had gone on here, she loved to be involved and would have been happily leading each side's comment no matter how goofy to its best end. He couldn't wait to see her eyes spark on him again as she called him a seaweed brain for smiling like an idiot as Will uneasily cleared his throat and moved on.

"Percy!" Annabeth said, running through the crowd. She stopped short when she saw who I was talking to. "Oh... Mom."

"I will leave you," Athena said. "For now."

She turned and strode through the crowds, which parted before her as if she were carrying Aegis.

"I'd flee at the sight of any Olympian at this point, no magic shield required," Magnus promised.

"And that's how you know it's been a good party," Will snickered.

"Oh, fine, I'll attend one if you promise me at least one blood-curdling scream," Nico finally relented with the silent addendum he wasn't the reason for that happening.

Will gave him a wink, a cheeky little one that Nico had no idea what to make of.

"Was she giving you a hard time?" Annabeth asked.

"I don't know how to answer that," Jason said as he rubbed at his forehead with so much vigor he seemed to be trying to slowly peel off the flesh.

"I do," Percy said confidently even as he rubbed his chest to make sure his heart really was still beating.

"No," I said. "It's... fine."

"The only answer I would expect from you Percy," Thalia sighed. He'd be bleeding to death someday and promise he was fine while they dumped a bucket of water on him.

She studied me with concern. She touched the new streak of gray in my hair that matched hers exactly—our painful souvenir from holding Atlas's burden.

His hand moved, to creep up and brush at it now. He'd always felt tied to her, assuming it was from their very first quest. He'd never wanted their shared suffering to highlight it.

There was a lot I'd wanted to say to Annabeth, but Athena had taken the confidence out of me. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

Percy was still rubbing his stomach and well remembered the sentiment. Maybe he should carry a glass of water around with him for an extra shot of courage next time? He was now half convinced Annabeth had laughed herself stupid when she'd kissed him.

I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter.

"So," Annabeth said. "What did you want to tell me earlier?"

"Please don't join the Hunters of Artemis because I'll somehow never be able to get through a quest without you," Alex chuckled.

"I missed you and dreamed about you so much I made a girl who loathes men befriend me," Magnus snorted.

"I love you," Jason said much more plainly with an exasperated look at the pair of them.

"Yeah, none of that, no," Percy was blushing a full neon red and stuttering even over that. He didn't think he'd be able to articulate her name if he even tried, and yet he didn't deny a word of any of that.

The music was playing. People were dancing in the streets. I said, "I, uh, was thinking we got interrupted at Westover Hall. And... I think I owe you a dance."

She smiled slowly. "All right, Seaweed Brain."

So I took her hand, and I don't know what everybody else heard, but to me it sounded like a slow dance: a little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too.

"Awww!" Will cooed so much Percy felt the need to check if he was stuck like that. "I knew I should have bid on you two getting together by the end of that summer! I would have won so many years off chores!"

"There was a bet?" Percy demanded.

Will whistled innocently like he hadn't heard that as he got up to hand the book to Jason while Percy tracked him the whole time like a predator. When Will sat back down and still hadn't answered Percy sighed and let it go, still brushing at his hair and replaying that song over and over in his head until the lyrics got stuck for the rest of this. It helped to memorize the warmth of her body against him he'd been so missing the entire time here.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #nico di angelo #will solace #Alex Fierro #Magnus Chase #hoo #reading the books #fanfiction #HDYSG

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slutforsilverfoxes · 2 years ago

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Bête Noire (Part I)

Loosely based on s1ep16 of NCIS

Humming your latest favorite country song, you stepped out of the elevator into the bullpen of NCIS, cardboard carrier full of the team’s regular coffee orders in hand. Jethro could deal with your eclectic taste in music, sometimes even enjoy it, but he drew the line at that “pop-country bs that couldn’t decide what style it wanted to be,” so you snuck your moments of country bliss in during your solo car rides to and from work. Although, you put up with having a massive boat skeleton in your basement, so the least he could do was let you pick the music when you rode shotgun in his car. Plus you put up with his driving, if you could even call it that.

You made a mental note to bring up these very valid points tonight at dinner.

“Gather round, kiddos, got a little midday pick-me-up,” you announced in a sing-song voice, ready to distribute the various beverage orders that were unique to their respective drinkers. Despite your being younger than both of the members of your husband’s team, they had taken to jokingly calling you “mom” (or “mamas” in Tony’s case when he was feeling particularly cheeky) since your husband was their “work-dad.” Jethro secretly loved the familial bond you had all formed although he would never admit it out loud. Too soft for his former Marine tough guy persona, of course.

“Hazelnut with cream and sugar for my coffee twin,” you smiled at Tony, kissing his cheek as you handed over his drink. This team consumed so much caffeine, you were pretty sure they had coffee running through their veins at this point. Reflecting on your own addiction, you realized this was a classic case of pot calling the kettle.

“Thank youuu,” Tony drew out the last syllable, grinning at you as he lovingly squished your cheeks together and you smacked at his hand.

“Stupid,” you grumbled despite the smile on your face. “Where’s Gibbs?”

“Meeting with the director,” Kate rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee and humming with appreciation. “Perfect as always, Y/N, thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do for our local heroes,” you teased with a mock salute. Truly though, you were always amazed with the caliber of their work and the way they put themselves in danger to save others.

You moved to your husband’s desk, placing his black coffee by his keyboard before hunting through the top drawer for a post-it note. Flicking one square off the top of the pad, you simply drew a cheesy heart on the paper that you hoped would turn Gibbs’ grumpy visage following an admin meeting into one of his beautiful smiles.

You signed it as you always did (“Love, Dub”) much to Kate and Tony’s chagrin as they had yet to crack the case of your nickname. Your nickname for your husband, Fox, was much more obvious given his silver locks and breathtaking good looks. Ducky, being one of Gibbs’ closest friends, was the only member of NCIS who knew that your pet name was short for “w” which in itself was short for “wifey”. When your relationship had become more serious, Gibbs had warned you of his previous track record with marriage, swearing that he would stick with you for life but never get down on one knee again. Taking his decision as final, you jokingly referred to yourself as his “wifey,” resigned to the fact that you’d never claim the title of wife.

You smiled down at the silver band on your ring finger at the memory.

Abby came rushing downstairs with a huge box, jostling you out of your reverie. “Y/N,” she breathed out, nearly in a panic. “Thank god you’re here. I need your help.”

You placed your hand reassuredly on her arm, giving it a squeeze as you glanced down at your watch. “I still have 20 minutes of my break, Abs, how can I help?”

“Ducky needs this evidence downstairs in autopsy,” she whispered, her pretty dark eyes widening dramatically. You and Abby had grown incredibly close throughout the course of yours and Jethro’s relationship, and she had revealed her fear of autopsy to you one night over a bottle or two of wine.

“I’ve got it, sweetie,” you smiled confidently, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you!” she squealed at your back as you made your way to the elevator, using your elbow to bump the “down” button. You figured 20 minutes would be more than enough time to drop this evidence off, come back upstairs to greet your husband, and drive back to work.

You tapped your thumbs absentmindedly against the lid of the box as the elevator descended. Curious, but knowing the strict rules surrounding chain of custody, you tried to discern what exactly the evidence was by looking through the clear lid. Some clothes, a watch, books, nasal spray. Your legs wobbled slightly with the stopping of the elevator, and you readjusted the box in your arms before stepping out into the hallway.

The dimly lit hallway with an ominous red light.

The hairs on your neck stood on end as your brain suddenly processed that in all your years of hearing about cases and experiencing life in this building, Ducky had never asked for evidence because he had no use for it. The only evidence Dr. Mallard needed was the body on his table.

Trying to calm your breathing, you began taking quiet steps backward, keeping one eye on the autopsy door as you once again bumped your elbow into the elevator button, desperately clicking “up” this time. “Cmon, you son of a bitch,” you whispered frantically, eyes flicking back and forth between the ME’s door and the descending numbers above the elevator.

The bell dinged to announce the arrival of the elevator, followed seconds later by a searing pain radiating up your bicep and into your shoulder. You looked down to see crimson red blooming along the length of your left arm before your rational thought caught up to the fact that you’d just been shot.

“Leaving so soon, darling?” A shiver worked its way up your spine, and you turned slowly to meet the eyes of your assailant. “Come on in,” he inclined his weapon toward the ME suite. “Dr. Mallard and I were just having a nice chat.”

Part II

#jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #ncis #jethro gibbs x y/n #jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

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Baby Steps (A Good Man)

A/N: Hello my sunshines! I’m back with another little installment of the AGM ‘verse with our favorite Javi and Dulzura! I love them so much and I’m glad y’all do too! I hope you guys enjoy! As always, comments and feedback are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! Xx

*can be read as a standalone or part of the ‘verse as a whole*

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: language, pregnant!reader

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Mrs. Peña?” the sound of your name still surprised you, despite the fact that the students had been calling you for several months now. A grin worked its way onto your face as you looked at the young boy who was watching you with wide, eager eyes. Putting your pen down, you motioned for him to continue, “will you come outside and play with us?”

“You want me to hang out with you guys?” you almost laughed at the idea that any kid deemed you worthy of spending time with them, “I thought teachers were lame, Mikey?”

“Some of them, but not all of them! You’re pretty cool,” he smiled and displayed his toothy grin. How were you supposed to say no to him? You nodded and stood up, taking the hand he was holding out to you, “besides we’re playing kickball and we need one more person!!”

“I should have known you were just using me for my exceptional skills,” you pretended to be hurt as he pulled out of the building and into the playground, where the sun was shining brightly.

Normally, you’d have turned him down, opting to get some work done during the lunch period, but decided you might as well indulge him and yourself. You really enjoyed the kids you had this year, and it was a gorgeous early spring day.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Turns out, kickball with a bunch of seven and eight year olds was not as simple as it seemed. They seemed to come up with all sorts of nonsense rules, and on top of it all, they happened to be extremely competitive. And yet...you were thoroughly enjoying yourself - and glad you had opted to wear jeans today instead of a skirt or dress. Javi had been particularly fond of the tight, high-waisted jeans that hugged you in all the right places, getting very handsy before you both had to leave for work. Typical Javier; not that you minded of course.

“Come on, give us a good one, Mrs. P!” Mikey yelled at the top of his small lungs as you proceeded to kick the ball that was rolled at you. You offered up a firm kick, but not one you would have used if you’d been playing with only adults. Taking unfair advantage was something you definitely didn’t want to do.

As soon as your foot made contact with the red rubber ball, you watched it whistle through the air before running to the first base. But...it was over before it started as you ran and then immediately proceeded to trip over your slightly untied shoelaces. You made contact with the hard earth before you knew and rolled your ankle in the process.

You landed with a mixture of an annoyed sigh and a loud oof as you chided yourself. You should have made sure they were properly tied before doing anything. The kids clambered around you, faces anxious as they tried to make sure you were okay. Physically you were sure you’d be just fine, but mentally your pride was wounded. Oh, to make a fool of yourself in front of a bunch of children.

“I’m alright,” you promised as you slowly rose to your feet; an instant tinge of pain shot through your ankle and leg as you almost lost your balance again. Maybe you were hurt… “it’s alright - you guys go back to playing and I’m going to go back to the classroom and sit for a moment. I might have twisted my ankle.”

They nodded, but gave you wary looks as you hobbled back inside the building. You should have remained the umpire and refused to play; you were obviously not coordinated enough for any of this. Slumping back in your chair, you rolled up your pant leg and hissed at the sight of the already swollen ankle. Shit.

“You’d better get that checked out,” Anna, one of the teachers from across the hall looked at you with a pained expression, “looks painful.”

“Nothing some rest and elevation won’t fix,” you insisted as you slumped against the back of the chair, “I’m too old for this! When did I become an adult?"

“Hey, at least they think you’re cool,” she huffed playfully, “they never ask me to play! But seriously, that looks pretty bad. And it happened at work, you know how they get about stuff like that.”

“Fineeee,” you groaned, “I’ll go to the school nurse.”

“I would recommend an actual urgent care or ER visit,” she raised an eyebrow, “besides, you know how Javi gets - he'll flay us all if he thought we weren’t looking out for you.”

“He’s...something else.”

“He’s amazing,” she reminded as you nodded in agreement. For how much of a worrywart he could be, you knew it was all out of love, “now go and get it checked out. I’ll handle getting the sub in and telling everyone. You have enough to worry about. Can you make it okay, or will you need a ride? Should I call Javi?”

“I can drive myself,” you promised, thankful it happened to your left foot and not the right, “I’m not going to bother my darling, overprotective husband just yet. Not until I can confirm that nothing is actually wrong. I don’t want him to stress over nothing, and I’m sure by the time he gets home tonight he’ll just be laughing at me and my clumsiness!”

“Alright,” Anna grabbed your purse and handed it to you, as you managed to slink out of the chair, “go get checked out and feel better. If you need anything at all, just call me.”

“Thanks for all of your help,” you hobbled towards the door, trying to keep as much weight off of your foot as possible, as Anna grimaced at you, “I swear it’s not that bad - worse than it looks.”

“Sure, sure,” she disagreed politely, “now quit stalling and go get help!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The white walls and bright lights of the exam room were enough to rattle your nerves, even if just ever so lightly. You sat on the examination bed and tried to keep yourself calm as you waited for the nurse to come back and begin examining you. Nothing but the distant sounds of people outside and the tick-tock of the aging clock met your ears. You almost wish you’d called Javier just to have some company. Shit.

“Mrs. Peña?” a kind looking woman, maybe around Javier’s age poked her head in as you nodded, “sorry for the wait, we’re pretty busy right now. You’re here for a rolled ankle?”

“Yeah,” you answered as you relaxed at her comforting presence as she came in and sat on her rolling stool, eyes immediately dropping your swollen and irritated ankle, “I was playing with my kids outside - kickball - and then tripped over my own damn feet and ta da!”

“Were you at home when this happened? Playing with your kids?”

“Oh no, I’m a teacher,” you quickly explained, a warm flush rising up your cheeks at the thought of children, “it was on their lunch break at school. I-I don’t have any children of my own.”

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to offer up a clarifying statement.

“I see,” she made a few notes before turning back to you, “it looks pretty bad, to be quite frank. I’m going to assume it wasn’t a break, a sprain rather, from how you’re managing, but we’ll need to do some x-rays to confirm. We’ll do your blood work as well just to make sure everything is in order. Before we do x-rays or anything - are you pregnant?”

“No,” you admitted, looking at your feet as you tried not to sigh. It had been on your mind recently, and you weren’t sure quite what to make of your own feelings on the matter. While you hadn't been actively trying, you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever happen.

“Any chance you could be?”

“Umm,” you twiddled your thumbs as you shrugged your shoulders, “I-I suppose. I’m not on birth control and my husband and I don’t use protection...we’ve been trying but not trying if that makes sense? But my cycle’s been regular so I highly doubt it.”

“Okay,” the scratching of her pen on paper was almost maddening as she was making notes and you just sat there. You could curse yourself for babbling on to her, but you couldn’t really help it. Besides, it’d be better for them to know all the details if they were going to x-ray and poke and prod you, “very good. Let me just go get everything and we’ll get started and a better look at everything. We’ll have you set and on your way in no time.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Here you go,” you scratched Stevie’s ears as you offered him a treat, a scrap of carrot from the vegetables you were chopping up for dinner, “what do you think, buddy? Should we tell him tonight?”

“Should we tell who and what tonight?” Javi’s voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your knife. You hadn’t even heard him come in, ever the sneaky DEA agent as he walked into the kitchen. A smile was on his face as he came over to you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “hi baby.”

“J-Javi,” you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, despite his surprise arrival, “you’re home!”

“Oh very observant of you, Dulzura,” he teased as he pulled back and started to undo his tie. It was only then that he noticed you weren’t wearing what you had earlier in the day; you were in one of his sweaters and a pair of joggers and… “what the hell happened to your ankle?!”

There it was - Javier switching into overdrive. You put everything down on the counter and turned to him, putting on your most innocent and sheepish expression. His large, warm hands found your face as he looked you over to make sure you were okay.

“It’s nothing, Javi,” you promised him, “I swear it. It’s just a bad sprain, but I went and had it looked at and they wrapped it and gave me pain killers. It’s umm...a stupid little story actually…”

“What happened?” he bent down and reached out to tentatively and delicately cheek the binding to make sure the nurse had properly tended to your sprain. He made a small sound of disgruntled satisfaction before standing up and waiting for a proper explanation, “why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, Javier,” you promised as he crossed his arms over his broad but acquiesced with a nod, “you’re so busy, and honestly, it wasn’t a big deal at all. Besides, Anna was ready to call you immediately, but I told her not to worry. All that happened was that I was outside with the kids and we were playing kickball and I tried over my laces, fell, and twisted my ankle. It hurts, but no fracture or anything.”

Javier’s lips twitched as he tried not to laugh, his shoulders shaking with effort as he just studied you, “are you....are you serious, Dulzura?”

“Don’t laugh at me!” you pouted as he started laughing at your dismal nod when you confirmed that that was what actually happened, “they thought I was cool and how was I supposed to say no to them!? I’m the cool teacher to them!”

“And look what that got you,” he snickered as you sighed heavily, “I’m sorry - I’m sorry. As long as you’re okay, that’s what matters. Whatever you need, just tell me the word and I’ll make sure you have it. I’ll take good care of you, Dulzura.”

“I know you will...you always do,” your heart raced as you tried to decide whether or not to tell him the rest of your revelations. But then he looked at you with those eyes, those soft brown, gentle eyes, and your heart melted. He gently pulled you into his arms as he kissed you again, chasing after your soft, sweet lips with his own, seemingly never able to get enough of you, “Javier, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you felt him smile against your lips, “what’s brought on your sudden declaration of love, mi alma?”

“I...I’m pregnant,” you blurted it out without even really thinking about it. Javier pulled back as a surprised expression crossed his features. He looked at you, seemingly in a state of shock, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, “Javi?”

“You’re pregnant?” he repeated as you nodded. It took about a moment for everything to finally come full circle as he finally realized what you had said. Immediately, an overwhelming wave of emotion came over you as you felt the back of your eyes start to sting with tears. He grabbed your face and slowly crashed his lips back onto yours and kissed deeply and slowly, “holy shit.”

“I know,” you beamed at him, “they asked before they did x-rays and blood work and then well...they discovered I was pregnant. I had no clue and then they told me and yeah - holy shit."

“That’s amazing,” he said softly, “pregnant....”

“I know,” you breathed him in and ran a hand through his dark curls, “I’m not far along, only like six weeks, so it’s still very early, but yes. We’re finally having a baby, Javier!

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around and held you in a tight embrace, “I love you so much.”

“You deserve this - everything. You are such a good man, Javier, and I am so honored to call you my husband, and the father of my child,” he almost melted under your praise as you traced along his features before resting your hand on his cheek, “I love you, Javi. I am so excited for this.”

“Me too,” he agreed, “this is everything - you are everything.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

3 months pregnant

“Dulzura?” Javier yawned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up and found you in the kitchen, peering into the fridge. You were in the mood for...something. You just weren’t sure what that something was. Everything sounded good but nothing seemed to satiate that craving you had deep within, “what are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, hoping you hadn’t woken him up by accident, “and I got hungry. I’m sorry if I woke you, my love. Go back to bed, Javier.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted as he shuffled into the kitchen and slowly pried you away from the fridge, “sit down, and let me make you something to eat. What sounds good?”

“Javier,” you did as he asked, padding over to the other side of the counter and taking a seat at the bar. You rested your head on your hands as he stifled a yawn, "honey, go back to bed. You're exhausted and you've got back to back classes tomorrow."

"They start in the late morning," he insisted, with a sleepy nod as you just laughed at him. He was such a stubborn man sometimes it drove you crazy - but you knew it came from a place of love and concern, "don't sleep well without you anyways. 's better when you're there."

"Oh, my sweet husband," he reached into the fridge and pulled out some cheese, butter, and your favorite pickled jalapeños. You watched in curiosity as he went to the bread box and grabbed the fresh loaf of bread you'd purchased earlier at the store, "grilled cheese?"

"Grilled cheese with jalapeños," he corrected, a lazy smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. You made a small sound of musing as you realized it didn't sound too bad at all, "and tomato soup, naturally. How does that sound?"

"Sounds delicious," you grinned eagerly as you leaned in to watch him work. You made a small sound of surprise as your stomach rumbled loudly. Apparently you were hungrier than you had thought, "apparently, my stomach and I agree. I think its your daughter that agrees."

At the mention of your baby, Javier paused and smiled, his eyes flitting to your barely visible bump. Some days he still couldn't believe that you were having a baby. You were his wife. What a wild world it was indeed; years ago he'd never dreamed he would have all of this. The Javier that once existed and refused to believe that there was any light in the world could never have pictured any of this.

But here you were. Continually proving him wrong. And he loved it all.

"Wait - how do you know we're having a girl?" he asked, suddenly wide awake as he raised an eyebrow at you, "I thought we still need to wait another month or so."

"We do," you grinned at him, "but I just know. I'm sure of it!"

"Well, you do have a fifty-fifty chance of being right…"

"I have a hundred percent chance of being right," you insisted as you reached over the counter and grabbed the jar of pickled jalapeños and fished a few out, and popped them into your mouth, "don't argue with your pregnant wife, Javier Peña. You of all people should know not to cross someone so dangerous."

He snorted with laughter, suddenly feeling much more awake as he sliced up cheese and turned on the stove, "and if we end up having a son?"

"Then we keep having more until we have a daughter and I am proven right," you plastered on a sweet smile, knowing it would wind him up. You'd never really discussed how many children you wanted or planned on having. It was just a sort of...whatever happens happens type thing. But, if you were being honest, you'd probably have given Javier as many children as he wanted. Your husband fell silent as he watched you for a moment before taking the jar away from, "nothing to add? Silence isn't like you, my love."

"We can have as many as you'd like," he promised, "you're the one doing all the hard work. If you're done after one, then it's fine for me. You already amaze me every day."

"Don't make me cry, Javier," your whole body soaked in the warmth and love from his simple words, "its getting really easy at this point, and you're taking advantage!"

"Sorry," he shot you a wink before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "back to business."

"Hmm," you mused quietly, "I thought kissing me was business."

"I thought you were hungry?"

"Fine," you playfully huffed as he carried on cooking, "Javi?"

"Dulzura?"

"I love you," you beamed at him, the little smile that worked its way onto his face take your breath away - as it always had.

"I love you."

»»————-　♡　————-««

6 months pregnant

A huff escaped your lips as you tried to reach for the socks and underwear that had fallen out of the laundry basket. It was no easy feat when you couldn’t see your own feet anymore. But you were determined to get everything up and off the floor as you walked back towards your bedroom to put away the clean clothes. And you weren’t about to give up and ask for help - not yet anyway.

Instead, you opted to awkwardly lower yourself to the floor in order to blindly grab for the discarded items. But it was no use...this was almost harder.

“You alright, Dulzura?” Javier came in and found you struggling, cleaning his dirty hands off on a rag. He’d been working outside, getting the garden spruced up as the summer slowly came to an end, “can’t reach?”

“I can,” you stuck your tongue out at him as he huffed with laughter, but motioned for you to go on. Wanting to prove that you were right, and weren’t completely helpless after all. It hadn’t been easy having to give up a lot of the things you used to be able to do with ease as you progressed in your pregnancy. The fact that none of your pants would fit over your belly anymore had been a point of horror for you - it meant you were truly and actually pregnant, you were actually having a baby. You’d always known, but that had been what made it all extremely real. Every day you got closer and closer to your due date, it all became a little more real. Exciting - but terrifying.

Not being able to see your feet had been another blow. You could hardly get proper shoes on anymore, opting for easy slide ons, which were great for the warmth of summer and didn’t matter since you were on summer break along with your kids. It was almost as though Javier could sense your frustration, and he’d often silently help you with getting your shoes on in the morning. He never said a word, knowing he didn’t have to. He always told you he loved you in so many ways, often without saying it.

You tried to again, dangling your hand along on the floor as you tried again. After watching you struggle for a moment, Javier came over and grabbed everything in one foul swoop before taking your hand in his and helping you upright.

“Hey,” you pouted at him as he put the items back into your basket, “I almost had it!”

“I know,” he kissed the tip of your nose, “but I wanted to help. Why can I not help my gorgeous wife?”

“Your very pregnant and easily frustrated wife?” you teased as you started to walk towards the bedroom. He followed after you, swatting at your bum as you squealed in delight, “Javier!”

“Come on, mi alma,” he grinned, “let me help put everything away.”

“If I let you help, you’re just going to take me to bed and then I’ll have to wash the sheets again!”

“I’ve never heard a single complaint from you before,” as you set the basket on the dresser, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before settling a hand on your belly and gently rubbing it a few times. He pressed a few kisses to the side of your neck as you tilted your head to give him easier access, “there we go, Dulzura. Just like you like it.”

“You’re the worst,” you teased as you turned your head to kiss him, “you’re lucky I love you. And I’m seemingly always in the mood right now - they really weren’t kidding about pregnancy making you more horny. Although, I’ve never heard a single complaint from you before.”

“And you never will,” he promised, his low in your ear as you tried not to completely let your mind wander too far away, “do you have any plans for this afternoon, Dulzura?”

“N-no,” you managed to choke out as one of his hands skimmed along the waistband of your leggings. You knew exactly where this was going, and you were loath to stop him, especially as he slowly kept kissing you.

“Good,” he rasped, “because I have plans for you. Been thinking about you all day, especially in these tight leggings. You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you honey?”

“Uh huh,” you agreed as his warm hand slipped inside and a shiver ran up your spine, “Javier. Please.”

“Don’t worry, mi alma,” he captured your gasp in a sweet kiss, “I’ll take good care of you.”

The laundry could definitely wait.

»»————-　♡　————-««

9 months pregnant

It was an early, chilling morning as you sipped on some tea as you sat out in the garden. It was probably too cold to be sitting outside, but you were handled up in blankets and didn't care.

Christmas was a few weeks away and you enjoyed peeking into the neighbor's yards to see what they all had going on for decorations.

"Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" Javier poked his head out from the sliding screen door, his brow furrowed in concentration, "its freezing! And I have breakfast!"

"I've got blankets and a baby keeping me warm," you reminded him, pointing at your large belly. You were due in a couple of weeks; how time had flown. He jokingly frowned at you, sticking out his tongue. Playfully rolling your eyes, you clambered to your feet and waddled over to him, "fine, hold on you big baby. This is because I want breakfast."

Javier was on his winter break from teaching and you were on maternity leave now and you definitely didn't mind having him around all the time. If you could have always had it this way, you definitely wouldn't have minded.

"I'm just looking out for you," he insisted with a pout as you pressed a kiss to his lips, "I talked to Papà. He's really excited to come in a few weeks - more like excited to meet his grandbaby."

"I'm not complaining at all," you insisted, knowing there would be many sleepless nights and chaotic days ahead of you, "we'll need all the help we can get. Hell, maybe we can convince Steve and Connie to come and visit too…"

"I'm sure we'll have all the help in the world between our families and friends, Dulzura," he promised as he took your hand and pulled you into the warm kitchen, putting a plate of breakfast for you on the counter, "I'm sure we'll get sick of having so many people around."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," you took a bite and smiled as Stevie laid by your feet. The whole house was warm and cozy, perfectly decorated for Christmas, with a huge tree and already lots of presents. Javier had really outdone himself this year, seemingly more in the Christmas spirit than you. Honestly, you were feeling a little bit out of it - being so pregnant would do that to you.

You watched your husband for a few moments, admiring his profile and lazy smile. Gods, you were still so in love with him. He felt you watching him closely, and turned to you, cooking a dark brow, "what's on your mind, mi alma?"

"Nothing much," you shrugged lightly, feeling a flush of warmth was over you at him catching you, "just thinking about how I love you, and how I'm glad you're here with me, that you knocked me up, and yeah. Are you…are you nervous Javi?"

"About the baby?"

"No, about the Astros' odds next season," you snorted as he groaned at your joke, "of course the baby. I'm just...so nervous. Like I feel ready to meet her, but I'm so scared that I'll fuck it up somehow."

"You still think its a girl?"

"Positive," you grinned at him - you'd decided not to find out the sex ahead of time, leaving it a surprise for both of you. You were still convinced it was a girl, Javier was undecided, "we'll find out soon enough!"

"Either way," he brought his plate and sat down next to you, "everything will be alright. You're going to be an amazing mother, Dulzura. You are everything."

"I love you, Javier," you beamed as he gently put a hand on your belly, "I know it'll be alright, but holy shit - I'm so nervous. Its getting so real lately. We're going to be parents."

"Parents," he repeated, "fuck."

"Who would have thought-" you were quickly cut off when you felt the baby flutter round. A small sound of surprise left your lips as you grabbed Javier's hand and placed it on your belly, "she's telling you not to curse."

He was silent for a moment as a smile spread on his features; despite having felt this many times by now, it still continued to surprise him. He couldn't even imagine how it felt for you, "this is...everything."

"I realized I didn't know what to get you for Christmas so I got you a baby instead," you don't know why it came to mind, but as soon as the words left your lips you brought into a fit of laughter - Javier joined in, a brilliant sound that you adored above all.

"Best Christmas present ever," he whispered before leaning in and giving you a gentle kiss - sweet from the syrup and pancakes he had just eaten, "I mean it. I love you both more than you will ever know."

"We love you too," you grinned as he stroked your belly, "I'm glad your class was the only one available and I took it. I'm glad you were a grumpy professor that let me into his office - I was able to work my magic and look where that got us."

He threw his back with laughter, his dark curls shining brilliantly in the light as his eyes crinkled in the corners. You'd never been more glad for subjecting yourself to his class.

"Me too," he whispered as he put a hand on your cheek, "you always were a stubborn thing."

"Some things never change," you stuck your tongue out at him, "I trust your daughter will be the same!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were humming to yourself as you shuffled around the kitchen and tried to put together a mid afternoon snack when you felt an odd sensation in your lower belly. It caused you to drop the knife on the counter as you held onto the marble and gritted your teeth. Stevie was at your feet in an instant, looking at you with concern.

"Its okay, buddy," you reassured him as the pain passed. Surely it couldn't have been anything too bad...probably just an end of pregnancy pain. Sighing at your nonsense worry, you reached for the knife again but before you reached it, the pain was back, "never mind, shit shit shit."

Trying to keep yourself calm, you leaned against the counter and tried to even your breathing. Contractions. Of course. You were due in a week and you still hadn't been expecting it.

"Javier?" he was down the hall in the second bedroom that had been converted into the nursery, putting away the final touches of clothing. Before he could respond, you felt an odd sensation followed by liquid running down your legs, "Javier!"

"What's wrong, Dulzura?" he rushed down the hall and back into the kitchen, worry etched onto his features as you stood there in shock and clutched at your belly, "honey-"

"My water broke," you said meekly as you pointed to your wet pants, "and I've had a few contractions - I think the baby's coming."

"Okay," he immediately kicked into gear as he remained cool and calm, despite wanting to panic and worry along with you, "its okay. I'm going to get the hospital bag, we'll get you in the car, Stevie to the neighbor, and then we'll go and have a baby."

"You make it seem so simple," you huffed lightly as you tried to channel his inner calm demeanor, "we'll be okay, right? I-I'm scared…"

"I know, honey," he promised as he kissed the side of your head, "you've done so amazing already, it will all be okay. I'm right here, okay? I'm just going to grab your bag and the dog and we'll go. Ten minutes and we'll be on the way."

"Okay," you agreed as he practically ran down the hall to get your packed bag, "we're going to have a baby, Javi."

"Indeed we are," he agreed with a small smile as he reached for his wallet and keys and stuff for the neighbor to watch Stevie for a few days, "we're having our baby."

Holy shit.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You’re doing amazing, sweetheart,” Javier praised you as you squeezed his hand after another push. You groaned and gritted your teeth as you glared at him; this was absolute hell, “the baby’s almost there.”

“Shut up, Javier,” you hissed as you got ready for another push, “I am never letting you touch me again! You did this to me.”

“Hey - it was a team effort,” he reminded you in a vain attempt at a joke. Your death glare and the squeezing of his hand said it all, “sorry, Dulzura. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said as you took a deep breath, “but right now, I’m blaming this on you.”

“Fair enough,” he said as you pushed again. He was sure his hand was going to break.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn’t much longer before you were laying back and holding the smallest bundle you could ever imagine in your arms. You were somewhere between crying tears of joy and exhaustion, as you stared at your newborn daughter in awe. Javier was sitting next to you, looking down at her, his own eyes glossy as he gently touched her cheek. She had the darkest eyes and a shock of dark hair, already taking after her father. She had come into the world squealing and crying but had fallen asleep almost as soon as Javier held her.

“I told you we were having a girl,” you teased him softly, “I was right. Look at her, Javier. That’s our daughter. We made her.”

“You did all the hard work, mi alma,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “she’s beautiful.”

“Lucia Luna Peña,” you grinned at your husband, “it’s perfect. I love you both more than you could ever know. Javier...you really are everything to me - the best friend, best husband, and now the best father. She’s going to love the hell out of you, just like I do.”

He remained silent for a moment as he looked at the sleeping baby before looking back at you. His whole world was in his arms, and the thought of that alone was enough to overwhelm him with emotion. He’d never thought he wanted this - a “boring” job, a home, a wife, and a baby.

But here he was. And he had never felt happier, never felt more full of love and life. This was everything.

“I love you so much, Dulzura - you and Lucia,” he promised as he rested his head on top of yours, “you have given me everything, more than you know. Te quiero con todo.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x fem!reader #javier pena x you #a good man #agm universe #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years ago

Text

How The Team Figure Out You’re Together

These are the first criminal minds drabbles i’ve ever written so please go easy on me! So these are ‘how the team figures out you’re together’ for: Hotch, Spencer, Morgan, and Emily.

Summary: With a team of profilers around, it’s only a matter of time until at least one of them figures out you’re together. This is how you give yourselves away.

Warnings: Some short and non-specific references to drugs and case-violence. Gender neutral reader in all cases except Emily’s (happy to adapt this if wanted!)

A/N: this is a new blog and i’m accepting requests so please feel free to fire any headcanon/drabble/fic requests my way :)

Hotch

With your jobs being what they are, there’s a need for a very clear boundary between professional and personal. So, at work he’s Hotch, Hotchner, sir. At home, he’s Aaron, babe, sir. It took some getting used to at first, there were some slips of the tongue at home when you’d shout “Hotch, dinner’s ready!” But, for the most part, you’d gotten pretty good at slipping into it with relative ease. To you, it’s kind of like they’re different people anyway. Stern leader Hotchner who barks commands is an entirely different person to deal with than Aaron who asked to borrow your pink fluffy socks while you watched a romcom last night (he said he had forgotten to do laundry, but you had your reservations about whether that was true, not that you blamed him).

It’s a Wednesday morning and you’re all sat on the jet, having been called out to a pretty gnarly case in Idaho.

Hotch is making himself a coffee when the plane jerks and you all go flying and he trips sideways and

You’re shouting “Aaron!” in a concerned tone before it even registers that it’s left your mouth

And Morgan’s looking at you with that shit-eating smirk on his face, quirking his eyebrow as if to say ‘Aaron? Did you just say Aaron?’

Hotch is more flustered than anything, he’d thankfully already set down the pot and the coffee he was holding wasn’t too hot so he’s just wiping himself off with napkins and trying to ignore the fact that Emily’s staring at him and his cheeks are a little more flushed than he’d like them to be

You try to play it off with a much more casual “Are you okay?”

He looks at you and nods, comes to sit back next to you but sits a little straighter in his seat and makes an exaggerated effort to talk to Dave

You and Aaron laugh about it when you get back to the hotel room together that night. He puts on an imitation of your voice and mimics the way you’d shouted his name, shaking his head, “You know if you’re going to react like that when I’m a cup of coffee that could be a problem in our line of work.”

You roll your eyes, “Well you’ve got a bullet proof vest for unsubs, I’m sure we can find something to protect your hands from the very real threat that is boiling water.”

He laughs, jostling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head, “So dutifully concerned. You got the worried spouse act nailed.”

“And on a plane full of profilers.”

“They won’t say anything.”

“No, luckily for you they respect you too much to mention it to you.”

They do mention it to him though. You manage to get past maybe another two weeks before you all go out for drinks together. Apparently, they had their suspicions, but your accidental ‘Aaron’ was all the confirmation they needed.

They’re all incredibly happy for you though. Which is nice, even if part of the reason they’re so happy is because it means they have something to tease you about.

Spencer

You and Spencer have been close ever since you joined, what with you both being the babies of the team. It bonded you together, that and the fact you got on really well.

He always comes to either you or J.J with problems, and lately he’s been leaning on you a lot more.

But nobody really thinks all that much of it, J.J’s just had Henry and Spencer probably doesn’t want to worry about bothering her with his problems. That’s what everyone chalks it down to.

Until you’re on a case that involves drugs. Spencer’s a little on edge throughout the case and you stay with him throughout. You bring him coffees and ask him questions to help keep him distracted, stay late with him so you can focus on narrowing down the letters that have been sent in by the unsub. You don’t know all that much about handwriting analysis but you play it off as just providing a second set of eyes. Spencer really appreciates that.

Like he really appreciates that. That you easily play off your concern for him as just you helping with the case. It’s said with such ease and so convincingly that he almost believes it and that takes the pressure off, makes him feel less like a burden.

He manages to keep himself together while you work the case. You keep a watchful eye on him, not suffocating him or hovering, just making sure he knows you’re close by.

And everybody thinks you’re just being a supportive friend, because J.J is there to lend a hand too.

It’s not until the end of the case, when the unsub has been caught, interviewed, everything is wrapped up, that he lets himself fall apart a little.

You’re headed back to the hotel room you and Emily have been sharing, when you come back to find Spencer stood outside of it.

He opens his mouth to speak but the words don’t come out.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking a step to close the gap between you, “Can I?”

He nods.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him just the right amount of tight. And he practically falls into your arms, clasping your body to his. His eyes squeeze shut and this look of contentment. The tension in his body releases for the first time in days. You have one hand resting on his back, holding close to you. The other is smoothing down the errant curls of his hair.

“I’m so proud of you Spence,” you murmur, “I’m so proud of you.”

Emily gets off the elevator and, yeah maybe it’s not such an unusual sight to see you embracing. Unusual for Spencer but after a difficult case like that it’s more than understandable.

No,it’s when he opens his eyes slightly that it clicks for her.

The safety he feels, the warmth, the trust, everything that’s conveyed in his eyes. It’s a look of a man who knows he’s home.

Morgan

You’re pretty sure that everybody on the team at least knows that Morgan has a crush on you.

He’s never really been very subtle about it in all honesty, he’s been incredibly protective of you since you joined, has gone out of his way to make you feel included and make you laugh and just take care of you however he could.

Somehow you were the only person who hadn’t realised how he felt about you.

And when that changed, after a particularly tough case when you leaned into him and he looked at you and you got a little too close and he kissed you and…

Well, after that, you did kind of see what he meant by “Not being sure how much more obvious he could be about it”

It’s after your fourth sleepover together that he says it, “Wanna ride into work together?”

“And people will think we’re coming in together becaaaause?”

Baby, everybody knows I’m crazy about you.”

“Yeah they know you’re crazy about me, I think I’ve done a little bit better a job keeping myself together.

He rolls his eyes, he knows you’re right and it equal parts irritates and impresses him that you’re the youngest of them all, have the least experience, and somehow have managed to act like nothing has even changed between you the past few weeks.

Even though it has, by a lot.

“Come on, please?”

You have to give in to him then because he looks at you so softly and with so much love. And you do want to put him out of his misery of having everybody at work thinking he’s pining for someone who doesn’t have any idea about it.

It’s just fun seeing how frustrated he gets at how well you’ve kept it together.

Luckily it’s just a day of being stuck at the office with paperwork, you only got back from a case two days ago and the serial killers of America seem to be allowing you one kindness.

Morgan has his arm around you from the moment you hop out of the car.

“I thought you wanted to tell the team?”

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head, “I want to tell everybody.”

But he’s happy, he’s smiling. So you let him steer you inside, with his arm around you. He greets absolutely everybody you pass whose name he knows, and one guy whose name you don’t know but he claims ‘either works in homicide or sex crimes and definitely spends way too long staring at your ass whenever he drops by.’

Emily, Rossi, and Spencer are all sat at their desks when you come in.

“Good morning,” He greets loudly, making sure to get their attention.

“Morgan!” You chastise him.

Emily grins when she looks up and spots you, “Well look who finally made his move.”

“Two weeks ago actually,” he corrects, “I just wasn’t allowed to show it off before now.”

“Even better, Hotch owes me 20 bucks.”

Emily

Neither you nor Emily are out at work. And that’s fine. Really, you like it better that the rest of the team doesn’t know this aspect of your business. If anything, it makes it easier. You two can head home from a night at the bar together, or share a hotel room, or grab breakfast together in the mornings without raising any suspicion at all. Heteronormativity has very few perks, but you’re willing to admit that’s one of them.

It’s a Saturday, J.J and Garcia are off out for drinks. They tried to convince you to go to girls night but this was a Saturday night off. You had your own girls night planned.

You told them you were busy with an old friend, and Emily said she had a date (technically hers wasn’t a lie).

Dinner and wine quickly evolved into kissing on the couch though.

“You’re so pretty,” she mumbles against your lips.

“You’re prettier,” you correct her.

Your hands tangle themselves in her hair, she shifts so that she’s basically sat on your lap. The kisses are more urgent now, deeper, passionate. Her hand is on the small of your back, pulling you closer to her.

And then you hear it.

“Emily we know you’re home! The lights are on! Come and drink with us!” Comes the shout of Penelope, from the front door.

“Yeah Emily, we have tequila!” J.J slurs in support.

Naturally, being semi-tipsy adult women, you decide the best plan is for you to hide. So you creep up the stairs, deciding the spare bedroom is the safest, hiding behind the door.

Emily answers, meaning to get rid of them but before she can even react, Garcia is on her. Arms flung around her while she wails drunkenly about how happy she is that Emily’s back from her date.

“Wait! Where is he! You have sex hair!” Garcia, annoyingly observant even when hammered, notes.

Emily’s so busy being smothered in Garcia’s hugs that she doesn’t even notice J.J making her way up the stairs.

And that’s how you come face to face with her.

“_____!” she exclaims, “Wait, why are you here? This isn’t the bathroom. Garcia, ____’s here!”

And there’s no real way to explain your way out of that one. Not between Emily’s tousled hair and the fact you are hidden away upstairs. You fabricate some excuse about coming over after Emily’s date and how you’d been planning to call them to ask them to join. They’re just drunk enough, and polite enough, that they don’t press it. You know they know.

Neither of you are really too bothered that they know. Half the reason you hadn’t bothered telling them was dealing with a whole sideshow about it.

And if thinking you really don’t want them knowing stops that from happening? Well, you can both live with that.

#spencer reid fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfic #reid x reader #hotch x reader #derek morgan fanfic #morgan x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotch x reader #derek morgan x reader #hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #imagine spencer reid #imagine aaron hotchner #imagine derek morgan #emily prentiss x reader #prentiss x reader #imagine emily prentiss

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erin-bo-berin · 5 years ago

Text

Enemies Closer

MASTERLIST

Happy smutty Spencer Saturday! This fic has been hidden in the depths of my brain for way too long. I knew I wanted to do an enemies to lover fic for a while but didn’t have much more for it until recently. The title comes from the famous saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.

I want to say a big thank you to all of my followers who sent in quips, jabs and bantery remarks. I tried to use them all because they were all so wonderful. Thank you to @dreatine @andiebeaword @sammy-jo1977 @redbullchick and the numerous anons who contributed. Also a big thank you to @multifandommandy for coming up with the idea of the reader interviewing the little girl, it really helped move the story along and add to it. I appreciate all your ideas and help 💕

Okay, enjoy the 10k words of sassy, smutty Spencer Reid. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 10,088

Spencer was walking back to his desk when he heard JJ’s voice.

“Really? When?”

There was a pause on her end of the phone conversation. She looked up and saw Spencer, immediately waving him over.

Spencer’s interest was piqued. He wondered what was going on, especially since there was a huge grin on her face. He approached her desk just as JJ spoke again.

“That sounds great, mom. I can’t wait.”

Spencer smiled. JJ and her mom were extremely close and he always looked forward to her visits—she made the best triple chocolate chip cookies he’d ever tasted. He opened his mouth to tell her to say hi from him, when she practically read his mind.

“By the way Spencer says hi.”

JJ shot him a wink, grinning at the fact that she knew him well enough to know exactly what he was about to say. He chuckled to himself. They definitely were close enough to know what one another was thinking.

“Sounds good. See you then. Bye.”

JJ hung up her phone, turning in her chair to face him fully.

“Is your mom coming to visit?”

“She is,” JJ smiled, “And she’s bringing your favorite triple chocolate chip cookies.”

“Bless that woman,” he chuckled.

“There’s also something else,” JJ trailed off nervously, a flicker of worry in her blue eyes.

“What?”

“Y/N’s visiting too...and she’s kinda stuck with me, or well us for the next week. So if we get a case, she’s coming with us.”

Spencer groaned loudly.

“Why?”

“Mom has a business seminar in downtown D.C. and you know Will took the boys to Disney World this week. I’m not going to make her sit at home alone for a week.”

“Why? It would be for the greater good of humanity. I’ll even be willing to chip in for a hotel room for her,” Spencer said, hoping JJ would actually take him up on the offer, “Particularly one across the country.”

“Spencer,” JJ eyed him warily, “Emily already said it was okay. She knows to stay out of the way while we work.”

“Yet she’s always in my way.”

“Spence, she’s not that bad. Why do you hate her so much?” she asked.

“Last time she visited she “accidentally” spilled an entire pot of coffee on my favorite work shirt!” Spencer protested.

“Just like you “accidentally” locked her in an interrogation room?” JJ raised a brow.

Yeah, that hadn’t been his finest moment. But she had driven him crazy that day.

“She wandered in there on her own. I was just helping the situation along,” he shrugged innocently.

“You’re lucky she didn’t burn the building down,” JJ mumbled.

“Yeah, well, she pushed me to my limit that day. Sorry.”

“What is it with you two? You fight worse than her and I ever did.”

“She’s annoying, rude and drives me crazy. I honestly can’t believe she’s your sister, let alone related to you. JJ, you know I love you, but I just can’t stand her. We’re just two completely different people that probably will never get along.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in defeat, “At least try to be on your best behavior?”

“No promises,” he grumbled.

“Hey, look at it this way. At least you get cookies,” she stood, patting his arm before walking away.

He was positive even cookies wouldn’t make up for this.

•

“Y/N while you’re here, can you please try to be nice to your sister’s coworkers?”

You suppressed a groan.

You were currently in the elevator with your mother at the FBI in Quantico, riding up the numerous floors to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, where your sister JJ worked. In your arms were a stack of containers, filled with sweets your mom had made for the team.

There were her famous triple chocolate chip cookies made with milk, dark and white chocolate chips, some apple cobbler, cupcakes and even a strawberry pie. JJ’s team were suckers for Sandy Jareau’s delicacies.

“Mom, I love the team. They’re like extended family, you know that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Your mom gave you a look that you swore only mothers could perfect. It was partly calling out your bullshit and part disciplinary all at the same time. It was amazing, really, 29 years old and you were still getting the “you better not act out” look from her. What were you, eight?

“I mean that lovely Dr. Reid. You’re always so mean to him.”

“He starts it.”

Okay, maybe you were eight.

“Y/N.”

The warning tone in her voice was all you needed to keep your mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is I don’t want another call from JJ saying you’ve gotten locked in an interrogation room and almost got arrested for assaulting a FBI agent.”

“Okay that was one time!” you said, exasperated, “Granted, it wasn’t my finest hour. But still. It’s not like I’m that bad all the time.”

“Really?” your mom looked at you, all knowingly, “What about that one time at JJ’s housewarming party?”

“I swear I didn’t glue his shoes to the floor!”

In your defense, that had been Derek Morgan, back when he was still working in the FBI, prior to his resignation. Of course though, no one believed that he had done it, apparently including your mother.

“Whether you did it or not, that’s not the point. You would’ve done it given the opportunity.”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Just don’t stress JJ out any more than she is. She said when the two of you are fighting it’s like trying to corral two feisty chihuahuas.”

You sighed, defeated.

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior mom.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you’d arrived at your designated floor and the metal doors slid open to reveal your sister and of course, Spencer.

Spencer Reid, the biggest nemesis of your entire life.

He was absolutely infuriating.

Tall, imposing, three PhDs, IQ of 187, Doctor Spencer Reid. That’s right, he wasn’t just Agent Reid, he was Dr. Reid. It was eye roll inducing.

He was a know-it-all, quite literally. If anyone said something even the slightest bit wrong, he didn’t hesitate to correct them. A person could breathe wrong and he’d probably correct that.

He constantly spewed facts. That was annoying enough in itself. You had no idea how JJ put up with it. But then again she was best friends with the guy. That blew your mind enough in itself.

If he wasn’t so annoying, he might actually be attractive. With a stature of over six feet, he was lean but without being a beanpole. His light brown curls always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and/or never taken a brush to his hair. His eyes were definitely interesting though. You could never tell if they were brown, green or maybe even hazel.

Not that you’d been paying that close of attention. Nor did you care.

He had significantly more facial hair than the last time you’d seen him. Not a bad look for him, you had to give him that.

JJ once told you that a college class he’d taught for two weeks was filled with nothing but young girls auditing his course. She said it had confused Spencer. It confused you too cause you didn’t see how he was that attractive. He was kinda cute, if you liked the whole snobby, genius who doesn’t brush his hair, smartass type.

Oddly enough, you’d known him for half your life, yet couldn’t recall how or when you started hating him. It just seems like it had been that way all along, when in fact, it hadn’t.

“Mom! Y/N!” JJ exclaimed, grinning wide.

You felt a burst of happiness in your chest. You’d missed your sister. Despite the 11 year age difference, you guys were close growing up.

You were still a baby when your older sister Rosalyn had committed suicide, so you didn’t remember much about her, sadly. It was really hard on JJ as she was the one to find her. But as she’d told you much later, you’d helped her grieve. Reliving memories and keeping Rosalyn’s memory alive in sharing stories with you helped her heal after such a traumatic situation. It was often that you’d wished you’d had the chance to know your oldest sister, but with her death came an impenetrable close bond between you and JJ.

JJ immediately wrapped her arms around your mother, hugging her tight. You gave a nod of your head, your arms too full to be able to hug her at the moment.

“I’ll just go put these in the briefing room,” you said.

You turned, aiming to head through the glass doors of the BAU’s entrance, but instead ran right into Spencer.

“Here, I got it,” he took several of the boxes out of your arms so you could see properly again, “If only to save you from injuring anyone else.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you muttered sarcastically.

“Watch where you’re going next time.”

“You watch where you’re going. Besides, I didn’t need your help,” you retorted.

“Obviously, you did,” Spencer mumbled, following you through the doors.

You hadn’t even made it all the way through the entrance when you heard your mom and JJ sigh in unison. You heard JJ’s words loud and clear, as well.

“They’re already bickering less than five minutes in. Must be a new record.”

It kinda was. Usually, the two of you managed to avoid each other until the inevitable crossing of paths occurred. Today, though, you both had started in, right off the bat.

You placed the numerous arrays of desserts on the round table, knowing by tomorrow they’d pretty much all be gone.

“You’re welcome for the help,” Spencer snarked, setting down the few containers he’d carried.

You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t ask for it. So there’s no reason to thank you.”

“It’s the polite thing to do. Oh, wait. I forgot you don’t know how to be polite. My bad.”

You glared at him, the hatred stirring in your gut.

“I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure to see you again, Y/N, but it hasn’t,” Spencer said.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go greet your mother who actually deserves and appreciates my kindness.”

“Kindness, my ass,” you muttered as he walked away.

He turned, almost to the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you smiled in a fake, sweet matter.

He scoffed, turning and walking away.

Only when his back was turned did your fake demeanor drop and you stuck your tongue out at him.

This man would be the death of you yet.

•

“Penelope just got us a case. Luckily, it’s right here in our backyard so you can just sit in while we work. But please try to control your mouth.”

“JJ, I’m almost 30 years old,” you replied.

“Yes, but you still have a sharp tongue.”

“I promise not to make a scene, cause any trouble or be in the way. I know you have to work Jayj.”

After a round of greetings and hugs from the team and promises to stay longer when she returned from her business seminar, your mom had dashed off, leaving you at the BAU.

You looked up to see Emily Prentiss, JJ’s friend and boss motioning for her to join them in the briefing room.

“The team has to be debriefed about this case. Are you going to be okay here?”

You spun back and forth in her desk chair, motioning to the book you’d brought to read.

“I’ll be fine. Go work,” you shooed her.

JJ bounded off and up the stairs to the meeting and you picked up your book, ready to be entranced by the wonderful fantasy world of your book, far away from your reality.

“Why do people read that garbage? It does nothing but fills a person’s head with nonsense. It’s stupid and a waste of time. Although, now that I think of it, that’s probably a perfect fit for you.”

You peered up over the edge of your book.

You’d just gotten to a good part in your book. Your heroine was just getting ready to destroy the enemy and his lair, saving her love interest from the clutches of evil. It was a shame you couldn’t throw Spencer in the cage that your heroine was saving her lover from. Now that would make the book perfect.

“I’m reading. If you don’t mind.”

“Well it offends me. At least read something good. War and Peace is a good recommendation. Good story. I read it at breakfast last weekend,” Spencer said.

You turned up your nose. Leave it to Spencer to brag about his ability to read 20,000 words a minute and offer atrocious book recommendations in the same sentence. That in itself was offensive enough to you.

“This is why you don’t get dates, isn’t it?” you snipped.

He ignored the quip.

“I’m supposed to ask you for help with the case.”

Now this was interesting. You raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“You do realize the entire world doesn’t revolve around you, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “There’s kids that are going missing.”

That sobered you quickly. You dropped any anger you had at him, for the moment, realizing how serious the matter was.

“How? What’s happening?”

“Four kids have gone missing. We can’t figure out how or why. They haven’t shown up yet, so we’re hopeful that they’re still alive,” Spencer said, lips narrowed into a thin line.

“What do you need my help for then?”

“Because to understand what happened to them, we need to profile these kids.”

•

“Okay so we know from his parents, six year old Erik Yates was incredibly shy,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard where the pictures of the four missing children were hung.

“He wouldn’t have talked to his own school teacher, let alone a stranger,” David Rossi said.

“But his best friend, Carlos Hoffman also went missing with him. They were having a sleepover, so he’d been at Erik’s house,” Emily added.

“And Carlos was the more outgoing of the two, wasn’t he?” you asked.

“Yup,” Tara said, flipping through her notes, “According to the parents, wherever Carlos went Erik was always close behind. So if they encountered a stranger, if Carlos was willing to go, Erik would likely follow.”

“I don’t know about that,” you piped in, “I’ve seen friendships like that in my class. Even if the kid is quiet, if they know something is wrong, they either say something to their friend or they just don’t do it period. I find it hard to believe that Erik would go along with someone he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Says the one that’s not a profiler,” Spencer mumbled from where he was standing, examining the evidence board.

JJ shot him a look, before returning to the conversation. You pretended not to hear that one and for once, bit your tongue. You wouldn’t accomplish anything by arguing with Spencer at the moment.

“So let’s go back to the top,” Matt said, “Mrs. Yates went to the door and there was someone there either selling something or had an excuse made up for the unsub to guilt trip money out of her. She leaves to get her purse. The kids are in the living room playing. Then suddenly, by the time she gets back, all three are gone.”

“That’s how her story goes,” Luke said, looking through interview notes.

“What about the other children?” you asked, “How were they taken?”

“One was kidnapped at the park, the other at the grocery store,” Spencer answered.

“What if it’s someone familiar with their routines?” you asked.

You weren’t anywhere close to being a profiler, but you knew enough from JJ to sort of get by in this conversation.

“A lot of my kids and their families have strict routines. Usually because it benefits the child and/or they have other children that they keep on a schedule too. Wouldn’t that mean that it’s someone that they know?”

“It could,” Emily said, “But unfortunately that doesn’t narrow down much because the unsub could also just be stalking these families before the kidnapping. The unsub could potentially be a complete stranger to them.”

“Have you asked the parents of the children if they could think of anyone who could do this? Is there anyone that might overlap with these families?” you inquired.

JJ had opened her mouth to answer you, but of course, Spencer had to add his two cents.

“Are you an idiot? Of course, we did,” Spencer snapped, “That’s always the first thing we do.”

You bristled. Even when working together, he couldn’t be civil. He had the nerve to try and insult you and make you feel stupid, even though all you were trying to do was help.

“I’m not an idiot, Spencer,” you grit out.

“Oh really? You sure do act like one sometimes,” he retorted, writing something on the board.

Your defenses snapped back into place and you were ready to shoot back a remark when JJ interrupted you.

“Hey, hey, you guys. Quit it before I have to send you both into separate corners for timeout. We’re all on the same team here, trying to accomplish the same thing. Let’s just focus.”

“Matt, Dave, JJ, I want you to go and reinterview the parents. Y/N has a point. We need to make absolutely sure there’s no one in these families lives that connect with one another,” Emily ordered.

“Luke, Tara; both of you go to the schools. See if there’s been any strangers lurking around. We can’t rule out a sexual predator just yet, but it would help vastly if we could.”

“Penelope, you and I are going to work on a deep dive of these families.”

Garcia’s face scrunched at Emily’s order; she hated diving into people’s personal lives, but unfortunately it sometimes came with the job.

“We’re going to make sure that these parents aren’t holding back any secrets that could possibly help us.”

Emily turned towards you and Spencer next.

“Spence, I want you to start on a geo profile, see if we can figure out the vicinity of the unsub’s hunting grounds. Maybe we might even be able to find where he’s holding them.”

“On it.”

Spencer was already grabbing a map, spreading it across the round table.

“Y/N, I want you to help him.”

Spencer’s head snapped up.

“Hell no. Emily please-”

She held up her hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. That’s an order. If you disobey, I will put you behind a desk for a month.”

He relented, but you could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Not like you were pleased at all by it either.

“Try not to burn the room down while you’re working,” she instructed, walking out to meet Garcia in her lair.

Once she left, Spencer spun towards you.

“Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not to bother me while I work. You stay out of my way. I don’t need your help, nor do I want it. I can do my work just fine without you. I’ve been doing it for 15 years,” he snapped.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. Even I can tell when your IQ gets slashed to 60.”

“That’s the best you got, Y/N? I didn’t realize they let bimbos into the FBI. Oh wait...that’s right. I’m the one that’s the actual agent here. What is it you do again?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. You know that, you dumbass or else I wouldn’t be here helping you.”

“Oh, guess there’s no sleeping to the top in that field. Although, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Your fists clenched. Spencer made you mad like no other could. Not even JJ could ever make you this mad.

“Just sit down and shut up while the adults work, okay?” he sneered at you.

“I’m not a child!”

You crossed your arms defensively. You weren’t about to let him get in all the insults. Ignoring him never worked, he was too obnoxious. So you just played it like he did, by slinging insults like dodgeballs at him.

“Well if you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child!” he threw back.

His eyes were blazing, his cheeks gone pink from his anger.

“Funny because you act more immature than my kindergartners.”

“WILL YOU TWO CAN IT AND GET TO WORK?!”

You both jumped at the sound of Garcia yelling from the bullpen. She made the motion that she’d be keeping her eyes on you two. You threw one more scowl Spencer’s way before flopping down on the sofa on the other side of the room.

This week was going to last an eternity.

•

Two days passed with no luck on finding an unsub, but they’d managed to put a profile together based on what little they did know.

The entire team was worried and on edge. Of course, that made the situation between you and Spencer even more volatile.

“Are you sure you’re an actual qualified agent? All you do is stand in front of a room full of police or your team and say smart things and gesture with your hands,” you mimicked Spencer, doing exactly what he was just doing earlier while they gave the profile.

“I do not look like that! You look like a baby dinosaur who doesn’t know how to walk,” he jeered.

“Yes, you do. All I’m saying is these civil service exams must be really easy to pass nowadays, huh?” you smirked.

“You know I’d ask if you could really be any more infuriating, but I’m afraid you’d take that as a challenge,” Spencer huffed, “Besides I’m supposed to be “nice” to you, since you’ve been so helpful.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you grinned mischievously, “I’ve been what?”

“I’m just quoting what Emily said. In my opinion you’ve been more like a pain in my ass,” he mumbled, looking through one of the case files.

“Oh sure because without me, would you’ve figured out that the unsub is a woman?”

“Probably. Don’t pat yourself on the back, sweetheart. You’re no match for us real profilers, Y/N.”

“I may not be, but you’ve met your match with me, pretty boy,” the nickname falling from your lips with deep sarcasm, “You can’t help but fight with me. For some reason I get under your skin and frankly, I enjoy it. It’s nice to know you can actually squirm, Spencer Reid.”

His lips pursed and he was about to speak when the phone rang. He answered it, putting it on speaker. Garcia’s excited voice came through it.

“Reid, gather the team. You won’t believe what I’ve found.”

•

“So it turns out, one of our families did have a secret. Although, it was something we weren’t even looking for,” Penelope said.

“What’s that Garcia?” Tara asked.

“The family of the first missing child: Daisy Rowe, had a nanny once. Her name is Kali Dye.”

Garcia hit the remote button to pull up the woman’s picture on the big screen at the front of the room.

“What does she have to do with our case?” Luke asked.

She stared at him, exasperated.

“If I could finish what I was saying, you’d know,” Penelope griped.

“Okay, okay,” Luke chuckled, “Carry on.”

You lived for Luke and Penelope’s playful banter. It was like the complete opposite of you and Spencer. They liked each other at the end of the day—not to mention everyone knew deep down they were definitely attracted to one another. Their banter was flirty. Yours and Spencer’s was anything but.

“As I was saying,” Penelope continued, “Kali was the nanny to the Rowe family back in 2016 when Daisy was only two years old. There was an incident where apparently she turned her back on little Daisy playing in the backyard. Daisy got too near the pool and almost drowned. She was in the hospital for a few days afterwards. The parents were obviously furious. I’m guessing Mrs. Rowe told all her friends about it because according to my research, Kali’s nannying career was basically ruined.”

“So you think this is an act of revenge? Did she nanny for any of the other kids she kidnapped?” Emily asked.

“No, that’s where it gets weird. She seems to have no connection to these other children,” Garcia said.

“Well we know who our unsub most likely is,” JJ said, “But how are we going to find out where she and the kids are?”

“I checked for that. There’s no significant places that she would take them, her old family house isn’t even in the state and besides it’s been sold years ago,” Penelope answered.

Emily’s phone rang as the team continued to throw around ideas of where to find Kali.

“Prentiss.”

You watched Emily’s face quickly change expressions, from neutral to shock, to worry, back to businesslike.

“Okay, bring her to Quantico. We’ll need to interview her.”

Emily hung up, turning to the team.

“The second child kidnapped, Eden Jenson just showed up at a police station in D.C. She managed to get away and ran for help. We need to interview her, but she hasn’t spoken yet. The chief of the police station is having one of his detectives drive here so we can interview her,” Emily filled the rest of the team in.

“I’ll talk to her. I’m pretty good at getting kids to talk,” Spencer said.

“Actually, I think we should let Y/N do it,” JJ said, looking at Emily.

“What?! She has no experience interviewing a witness, much less a victim!” Spencer exclaimed.

“I worked in art therapy when I was getting my degree as a teacher. I still use some in my class, plus I’m a teacher,” you said defiantly, “I know how to talk to kids.”

“I agree with JJ,” Emily said, “But Spencer, sit in with her just in case you need to intervene.”

You were sure he was going to do plenty of that.

•

An hour later, you and Spencer were sitting in front of a little, terrified Eden. Her—what you assumed were once neat—blonde pigtails were in all types of disarray. Pieces stood up everywhere while other strands came loose, hanging around her face. She was clutching her bunny stuffie, which you figured had been with her when she was kidnapped.

She had refused to talk to anyone, shrinking away frightfully at any imposing adults. You had to restrain yourself from literally pushing Spencer out the door when she shrunk even more into herself when she saw Spencer’s tall frame.

She’d been previously asked if she was hungry or thirsty in which she barely nodded. Now, she sat a bit less rigidly as she ate her Goldfish crackers and sipped on her juice box.

“Eden, my name is Y/N and this is my…friend, Spencer.”

You had to admit, you had a rough time getting that one out.

“We just want to talk to you, okay?” you said.

The little girl just stared back at you, wide eyed.

“Do you like to color?” you asked.

Still no response.

You pulled out some paper and a pack of crayons from a bin next to the desk. You pushed them across towards her.

“Could you draw something for us?”

It took a moment of Eden staring at the items before she opened the box and picked up a crayon.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions while you color?”

You didn’t expect an answer, so you weren’t surprised when none came.

“Are you six years old? Six is a fun age. Are you in kindergarten or first grade?”

Eden looked up at you, from underneath her lashes, just briefly, before returning to drawing.

“I’m a kindergarten teacher myself. I’m used to seeing kids your age all the time. It’s spring break though and I miss my kids terribly. Do you miss going to school?”

Spencer shifted in his seat. You knew time was a delicate thing right now, but you were trying to get her to trust you.

“Eden?”

She looked up again. If she was surprised to hear Spencer speak for the first time, she didn’t show it.

“Could you describe the place you were at?”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she dropped her crayon, hugging tightly to her bunny.

You glared at Spencer.

“Just keep drawing, Eden. Okay? We’ll be right back,” you said, standing up, your hand a death grip on his arm.

Once the two of you had stepped out of the room and the door was closed behind you, you whirled on him.

“How can you be so stupid? I thought you were supposed to be a genius!”

“Y/N, you know we’re running on limited time to find those kids. We don’t know if Kali will hurt them or not!”

“I realize that. I’m trying to make her comfortable enough to talk about it.”

“Avoiding it doesn’t seem to be helping either,” he grimaced, hands on his hips.

“You saw what happened when you brought it up! She was terrified!”

“When dealing with a traumatized child you should tell them information about the situation they were in. It’s best they learn it from a trusted adult. Besides, it’s most likely they want to talk about it, but just don’t know how to bring it up.”

“And how would you know all of this, doctor?”

“Because contrary to your beliefs about me, I actually know how to do my job and how to do it well. I’ve dealt with things like this many times before. 60% of adults report being traumatized in childhood. 26% of children in the United States alone will witness or experience a traumatic event before the age of four.”

You blinked, unable to process so much information at once.

“Are you even human?”

“Are you?” Spencer shot back, eyes narrowed.

“You know, with all things considered, I’d thought you’d gotten the idea that I really hate you.” you sneered.

“Really? And here I thought that was your version of flirting,” he retaliated, sarcastically.

“Moron,” you muttered under your breath.

“Now, if you’re through calling me names, I’ve got work to do,” he said, reaching behind you for the doorknob.

“Wait,” you grabbed his arm, “Just let me try again first? Please? If I get stuck or need you, I’ll let you know.”

It was some of the most civil words you’d said to him in a long time. But you didn’t want to give up on this little girl. You wanted to help her and prove to Spencer and yourself if you were being honest, that you could do it.

He must’ve noticed your serious tone and pleading eyes because he relented. He nodded and you turned to go back in.

Eden was waiting for you when you returned, back to clutching her bunny.

“Don’t you want to finish your picture?” you asked, sitting down in front of her.

She pushed it across to you.

“Oh are you done?”

She nodded.

You picked up the picture, noticing four stick figures. Two seemed to be girls, two seemed to be boys. They looked like they could represent all four missing kids.

“Are these you and your friends?” you asked gently.

She didn’t say anything for a beat, then came a soft, timid voice.

“They aren’t my friends...at least not until a few days ago.”

“My friends here, they found out that you didn’t know these other three children. Is that right?”

Eden nodded again.

“Do you know the woman who took you?”

“No,” she said, equally as quiet as before.

“You’re doing a great job, Eden,” you smiled at her, hoping to encourage her, “Just a few more questions, okay?”

Another nod.

“Can you describe where you were?”

“I...I don’t know,” her voice trembled, as if she were going to cry.

You heard the door open up behind you and you turned to see Spencer. He gave you a terse shake of his head, as if telling you now was not the time to snap at him.

“Eden?” Spencer came around to her side and crouched by her, “You remember me, right? I’m Spencer.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I want to try to help you help Miss Y/N here. To tell her what the place looked like that you were at.”

“But I don’t remember,” Eden said, frowning.

“I think you do. You know how when you’re afraid, you hide?” Spencer asked gently.

Eden nodded her answer.

“Well, that’s kinda what your brain is doing. It’s scared, so you think you can’t remember. What I want to do is have you to close your eyes and think back to before you were taken.”

“No, I’m scared,” Eden whimpered, hugging the stuffie.

“It’ll be okay. I’m right here,” he offered her his hand, which she took reluctantly, “I’ll be right here the entire time. If things get too scary, just squeeze my hand and we can stop. Alright?”

“Alright.”

She closed her eyes, listening to Spencer’s voice.

You were amazed at how soft and gentle he was with her. It was like seeing all of his razor sharp edges he displayed around you, smoothed out. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever heard him like this.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice,” Spencer whispered, “You were playing at the park. What were you doing?”

“Playing on the swing with my bunny,” she said.

“Okay, that’s good Eden, you’re doing wonderful. What do you hear?”

“Lots of kids playing. They’re very loud.”

“What happens next?”

“There’s a lady behind me. She asks if I would like to play in the sandbox with her. I told her yes but I didn’t want to get bunny dirty.”

Eden is trembling now and you eye Spencer warily. He holds his free hand up and you don’t say anything, just yet.

“Very good Eden. Did you go play in the sandbox?”

“No. She took my hand and led me away from the swings. I asked her where she’s going because the sandbox was the other way.”

“Do you want to stop, Eden?” Spencer asked.

“N-No. I a big girl like mommy always says.”

“Okay. What happened then, sweetheart?”

“She grabbed me and put her hand over my mouth. I tried screaming for my mommy, but I couldn’t. She took me to a car.”

“Can you remember what the car looked like?”

“Um, blue. It was blue. It had a lot of doors. It was long too.”

Spencer looked like he realized what she was describing.

“Did the middle door slide open and closed?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

“It was big inside with lots of seats. That’s all I saw before she covered my eyes.”

It sounded like an SUV or family van.

“When you were in the car, did you ride for a really long time? Or a short time?”

“A short time.”

You jotted the note down.

“One last question honey. Do you remember anything about the room you were in? What did it look like?”

“Like...like my bedroom. Only much dirtier. And old looking. There’s...there’s flowers on the wall. There’s a lot of toys, but I don’t want to play. I want to go home. Me and my friends are so scared. She’s coming back, she's coming back!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m right here.”

Eden’s eyes snapped open and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly as she trembled.

She didn’t let go of him until her parents arrived.

•

After kicking the information over to Garcia and her being the goddess she is at finding even the most hidden information, she found the house.

The team had found her car, registered to Kali, but with a false last name. From there, Garcia looked for any run down buildings or homes for rent within 10 to 15 minutes of that park. The team agreed that Kali wouldn’t have bought a house for the simple reason of too much work. She didn’t seem to be that dedicated to a well thought out plan. That was when Garcia discovered an old house rented under the name of Kali Rowe, the same last name of the family she had been a nanny for.

You stayed behind while the team went out to rescue the children and hopefully bring Kali Dye into custody.

They did.

All four kids were now safely reunited with their parents and Kali had been arrested and hopefully was going to get the help she needed.

Since you hadn’t been there, JJ had filled you in afterwards when everybody had gotten back. You were sitting next to one another in the briefing room, talking, while everything settled down.

Kali Dye had been so distraught over the loss and destruction of her nannying career. Apparently at one point, she had been a wonderful nanny. What had happened with Daisy, truly was an accident. Whether she had had a mental breakdown or suffered from an unknown or untreated mental illness beforehand, they didn’t know. But she soon became desperate to prove she was a good nanny.

She kidnapped Daisy first, to prove her point. Then three other children that she’d followed, learning their schedules.

She had taken good care of them, at least in her mind. In reality, she hadn’t hurt them or touched them one bit. She fed them, gave them all attention and all the toys they wanted, to play with.

It was a sad situation, really. But you were glad that the families had a happy ending and their children were back safely in their homes tonight.

“You did good little sis,” JJ smiled, “Keep it up and you may just have to think about switching careers.”

“No thanks,” you chuckled, “I’m happy teaching kids, not seeing them in life threatening situations. I don’t have the heart for that.”

“Spence said you did really well getting Eden to open up,” she said.

“I’m surprised he actually knows how to compliment a person, let alone me,” you scoffed.

“Y/N. Come on. What’s your deal with him? This has been going on for years now.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t stand him.”

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” JJ said, “He’s a good guy. Besides, you used to have a crush on him when you were younger.”

“Ew, did I?”

You wrinkled your nose, trying to remember. JJ had joined the BAU when you were only 14. A lot had happened in high school, let alone the 15 years since she’d first joined. You didn’t visit her very often because of school and all of your other extracurricular activities, so you hadn’t met the team until about a year after she started.

“You don’t mean the summer after my freshman year, do you?” you asked, “Cause back then he was a cute little dweeb and it lasted like two seconds anyway. I had a case of raging hormones to the point I had a crush on just about anything male with two legs.”

You rolled your eyes, disgusted at the fact she’d even think that you’d have a crush on Spencer. Although deep down, deep, deep, deep down, a little part of you knew that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Why do you hate him though? He’s my best friend. I love him and I want you two to get along.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, I know you love him. Remember, you told me that you told him that you’ve always loved him? That he was your first love?”

You bit your lip, trying hard to keep the jealous edge out of your tone. This is what you’d tried hard to avoid all these years. You hated that you felt like this but you’d been covering up your true feelings for him and the situation, with anger all these years. If you kept yourself at a distance, you were less likely to get hurt.

How wrong you were.

“Is that what this is about? Because I told Spence I loved him?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Y/N.”

She gave you the same look that your mother had given you in the elevator just days before.

“Jeez, you’ve got mom’s “look” down pat,” you mumbled.

“Please tell me the truth. Is my confession why you hate him?”

Her eyes pleaded with you and you couldn’t help but cave. She was your sister and your best friend and you knew she cared.

“No. I don’t know, maybe partially. But I disliked him way before that anyway. He’s just a know-it-all smartass, that annoys the shit out of me and is just like every other guy to fall head over heels in love with Jennifer Jareau.”

You grimaced, “For a guy that has an IQ of 187, he sure doesn’t know how to be different from other guys.”

“Okay hold up,” JJ held up her hands, “First of all, he is not head over heels in love with me.”

“JJ, please. You’re not an idiot.”

“I’m serious. He may have been once, but he’s not anymore. We’re best friends and that’s it. Besides, we worked out that mess over a year ago. He’s even dated since then.”

“The kid actually dates? I’m shocked,” you said, putting a hand on your chest in mock surprise.

JJ ignored your antics, continuing on.

“Second. He’s actually a really great guy, Y/N. He’s a real sweetheart, really. It’s just a side of him that you don’t see.”

“Yeah like the dark side of the moon,” you muttered.

“Just give him a chance and try to be nice? You know what mom always said. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Besides, if you want to go for him, that’s fine.”

You laughed outright at that. As if that would happen.

“On that note, I think I’m gonna head back to your place,” you said standing.

“I have to stay a little later to finish up some work. Can you get home okay on your own?”

You assured her you could and you grabbed your purse.

“Y/N?” she called, as you were about to the glass doors.

“Yeah?”

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

•

If you thought you were gonna get a reprieve after that uncomfortable conversation, you were sorely mistaken.

The moment you stepped out of the BAU, you saw Spencer standing, waiting for the elevator, his hands clutching the strap of his tan satchel as he waited.

“Ah, there she is. The woman who saved the day,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Fuck off Reid. I’m not in the mood.”

“You know, I’m actually shocked that you’re good at something besides bitching.”

You ignored him, your teeth clenching.

“I’m surprised you held your tongue as long as you did earlier. Bet that’s a record for you.”

The elevator doors opened and you got on without a word, Spencer following you.

“What? No comebacks? Amazing. Has Spencer Reid actually won for once?”

You whirled on him, dropping your purse to the elevator floor in the process.

“No because you’re full of shit. You’re the most annoying, stubborn ass, infuriating, egocentric, smart aleck in a fancy suit I’ve ever met!”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth hardened. He pulled his satchel over his head, dropping it too, to the floor. He pushed the emergency button of the elevator with such anger, it was amazing that he didn’t break it. The elevator suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you screeched.

Your body was thrumming with anger. You could and likely would pummel him at any second.

“You’re not leaving this elevator until you tell me what the fuck your problem is,” Spencer glared.

“My problem?” you huffed.

“Yes because I have to deal with you jumping down my throat every single time I see you. You’re the most stuck up, spoiled, self centered, bitchy little brat I’ve had to deal with!”

“Ha! You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“You know what I think your problem is?” he challenged.

“Go ahead, try me. I’d love to hear.”

“I think, you don’t know how to deal with how you’re really feeling. So you hide it under anger. You lash out every time your feelings threaten to surface. It’s become a defense mechanism. It’s all you know. You fight with me because it’s the only way to protect yourself; you throw words as your daggers. Simply because you can’t get me out of your mind. I push you to limits you don’t want to think about. You may swear and declare that you hate me but in reality, you’d be thrilled if I took you right up against this elevator wall.”

His voice grew deeper with every word that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you profiling me? Cause that’s one hell of a reach.”

“Is it though? You wanna know how I figure that? You told me the other day that I met my match. That I can’t help but fight with you because you get under my skin. Well you were right. I do enjoy it and I think you do too. Because it turns you on. It does the same thing to me. You get under my skin yet at the same time all I can think about is how I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“You think I’m gonna fall for that shit from just another guy who’s crazy about JJ?” you sneered.

For the first time, he actually looked just the tiniest bit surprised.

“You think I have feelings for JJ? If I had feelings for her, do you honestly think I’d spend all my time and attention on you?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“JJ isn’t the one that occupies my brain, no matter what I try to do, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

His face was mere inches away from yours now. Close enough to see an array of scattered freckles on his face. A few under one eye, a tiny one on the side of his nose, one on his forehead.

His stubble had gotten heavier in the last few days, becoming more scruff than stubble. His lips were naturally plump, an asset that would be the envy of any woman. They were also a natural shade of dark pink, maybe even leaning towards red.

Anger heated his eyes. Or was it desire? You wondered if you looked the same way. Right now, they looked more green in the brighter light in the elevator, but you could still see rings of brown around the edges of his eyes. They were also filled with mischief as if he were up for a challenge.

“You really think you’re going to distract me by putting your tongue in my mouth and getting my panties wet?” you hissed.

“Is that what you want?”

A smirk formed on his lips. He was definitely challenging you.

Your legs were trembling now. Although if you were to admit it, you weren’t entirely sure if it was from anger or arousal.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to say anything, almost afraid what would come out of your mouth. He had you cornered up against the wall now.

“Maybe I should just find out for myself,” he said, propping his hands on either side of the wall by your head, “Make you moan in my mouth while I finger you.”

The anger that was coursing your veins earlier had definitely now turned into desire. Your stomach churned with it. You could feel his body mere inches from yours and the heat from it was making your entire body temperature feel that much higher.

“It’s not like I haven’t imagined making you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, his tongue moving out over his lips in a quick swipe.

Your breathing had become shallow and you were throbbing with need. Before you could think of what you were doing, you were already unbuttoning your jeans.

“For once in your life I wish you’d shut up and just do it,” you grunted.

He grabbed your face roughly with both hands, his lips colliding with yours. They were hot and rough against yours, this kiss so hungry and animalistic that it was unreal.

His body was pressed against yours as he pressed you against the cool, metal wall. You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh and you unwittingly moaned into his mouth. You had a difficult time wrapping your head around the fact that you’d gotten him so hard.

Then again, you were having a hard time wrapping your mind around anything that didn’t involve him.

His tongue moved with yours, ironically increasing your desire, making you wetter. Just like you’d voiced earlier. Damn, the guy sure knew what he was doing.

He pulled your jeans roughly down your legs until they were enough out of the way that he was satisfied. His lips attacked your jaw, then neck, being anything but gentle, but it was working you up more than anything.

Your hands gripped his arms, your teeth bearing down into your bottom lip, resisting the urge to give in to what he wanted: hearing you moan.

He pulled away from you making you suddenly desperate for his lips on your skin again. He pried your hands away from him and held them against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

His suit pants were a lot thinner than your jeans, so you could feel his erection pressing into you, dangerously close to your throbbing core where all of a sudden, you wanted him the most.

Spencer’s fingers ghosted over the fabric of your underwear, causing you to inhale sharply. It felt good and you wanted more.

You reached for his hand, trying to push it against your core, but he pulled it away, shaking his head.

“No. This is all you’re getting until you admit it.”

His finger trailed up the center of your panties, having just enough pressure to slightly feel his touch. You groaned at his teasing. If your past years of banter had been foreplay then you were more than ready for him to have you.

“Admit what?”

“That you want this,” Spencer stated simply.

His fingertip swirled lightly over the fabric, just above your clit. Light enough that you didn’t get any real friction from the touch and you bucked your hips, desperate to feel it.

“I think it’s fucking obvious,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

His smirk was wolfish. You knew he wasn’t going to give in unless you did what he said.

“I want this,” you groaned.

“What’s that?” he tipped his head to the side, “Can’t hear you.”

“I want this,” you said, a notch louder, gripping his wrist.

“This?”

His fingers dipped into your underwear and his thumb pressed hard against your clit.

“Ah, fuck yes,” you moaned.

He grinned, his finger dipping into your wet warmth.

“Seems like my tongue in your mouth did indeed make you wet,” he chuckled lowly, pulling your underwear off with his other hand.

His fingers teased you as you writhed and moaned, clawing at the elevator wall behind you. He had this amazing way of rubbing his knuckles against your walls as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Holy shit, fuck Spencer,” you whined.

You were so turned on, you hardly had any recognition of what was tumbling out of your mouth. It sure seemed to please Spencer, though.

He kept you on your toes though, slowing his fingers just when you thought you were reaching the brink of your orgasm, twisting them so gradually, it was almost painfully pleasant. You swore your eyes almost rolled back in your head when his fingers curled inward in his direction, catching that sweet spot at just the right angle.

He was kissing you as you moaned appreciatively in his mouth. His hands were quite literally magical.

His fingers finally sped up, his thumb focusing all its attention on your clit. You could feel your release quickly approaching and you were ready to succumb to it. You wanted Spencer Reid to make you cum so hard you’d be begging for more.

He did just that.

Your high hit you as you released on his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut, your head banging against the wall. You actually think you stopped breathing for a short second before air rushed back into your lungs and you released a long moan.

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you groaned, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

He’d given you one hell of an orgasm and here you were, ready to beg for more. Especially if they came while he was buried to the hilt inside you.

“That was hot as hell,” he muttered, kissing you again, “It’s sexy seeing you spend all your energy on an orgasm instead of yelling at me. It’s healthier for your body, too.”

He smirked, his teeth pulling on your lower lip gently before pulling away. His hands were working with yours to push his pants down and his boxers too.

“Are you willing to admit you want me to fuck you against this wall now?” he growled.

“Yes, yes. Fuck yes, please.”

Man, if he wanted you to be his bitch ages ago, he probably should’ve just fucked you. One orgasm at his hands and you had turned into a writhing, begging and moaning heap.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could make you feel so good with his hands, that it would most likely be ten times as amazing with his dick.

He lifted you up, holding you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretching in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time and you couldn’t hold it back; a long, low moan of gratification left your lips.You hated to admit it, but he felt fucking fantastic inside of you.

By his own confirming groan, you could tell he felt the same way as you. At the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wonder why this hadn’t happened years ago.

His hips rocked against yours, slowly at first as his mouth found yours. He was as ravenous for you as you were for him.

Your fingers dug into his back as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was quite literally fucking you into this metal wall and you were loving every second of it.

Your emitted moans were coming every few seconds with every slap of your skin against his. His own grunts and groans came from deep in his throat, making you even hotter.

“S-Spencer,” you stuttered, pulling his face back to yours.

You have him a brief kiss before smirking up at him.

“I’m the spoiled little brat that’s got you moaning like a little bitch,” you panted.

Your words made him groan as he gripped your sides. He must have excellent control because he managed to get a hold of himself, slowing his hips to where he was tantalizingly pulling out of you and pushing back in.

“Still hate me, Y/N?”

“Right now, yes,” you groaned, trying to pull him deeper within you, wanting the previous speed and depth back.

“Now?”

“Ye- ahhh,” a breathy moan came from you as he resumed his harsher and faster thrusts.

“I don’t hate you,” you groaned, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Maybe voiced thoughts during sex were the truth because you actually didn’t hate him. Especially right now.

“Fuck, Y/N, yes baby,” he groaned.

He was close to his peak, you could tell. His fingers were on your clit, circling furiously. He was going to make sure you got your orgasm, before he got his. Who knew he was actually so decent?

Your whimpers, moans and groans were rising in pitch. You halfway hoped no one could hear, but at the same time didn’t care. Let the whole building hear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Spencer, I’m coming, I’m-”

With that, the coil of pleasure that had been building up snapped like a broken rubber band, shooting through your entire body.

You may have screeched too, you’re not entirely sure. You were completely lost to the bliss of your orgasm and even more so when he came apart not long after you. If you had thought he was attractive before, he was a hundred times more sexy when he was orgasming above you, all caused by you.

Your movements slowed, your chests both heaving. He held onto you carefully, as if he was afraid to set you down just yet. Probably a good idea considering you felt like you’d lost all function in your legs.

You laughed incredulously, unable to believe what had just happened. That had simultaneously been the craziest yet hottest thing you’d ever done.

Spencer’s smirk was replaced with a more shy, happy smile. It was a better look than the scowl he’d worn for you for so long.

It was like the moment that first orgasm hit you, all the anger, all the hatred, all the negative feelings you’d felt towards him drained from your body. You didn’t have the willpower or the desire to hate him anymore. Not that you ever really had.

“I meant what I said,” you said quietly.

“What’s that? You said a lot of things,” he chuckled.

“That I don’t hate you.”

He took a few moments in silence, parting from you and gently setting your feet on the floor again. He took his time getting decent again, as well. You worried at your bottom lip as you did the same, nervous that you’d said the wrong thing.

“So I was right? About the defensive mechanism and everything?”

“Yeah,” you nodded somberly, “I horribly misjudged you; thinking you were stuck up, full of yourself, better than anyone else, the kind of guy that was like all the others and in love with my sister.”

“If anything, I would think what just happened would prove more than anything that my sights are set on you.”

He had a point.

“Why did you hate me though?”

“I was thrown off by your reaction to me. I thought you were a self entitled, spoiled brat and that you thought you were better than me. Seems like we both vastly misjudged one another.”

“It’s kinda a good thing though,” you said.

Spencer looked at you, baffled.

“It is?”

“Well yeah, cause if none of that happened then that wouldn’t have happened either,” you gestured to the place where moments before the two of you had been a tangle of limbs.

“Good point,” he chuckled.

“Uh, Spencer?”

“Hmm?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“You might want to get the elevator moving again.”

“Oh! Right.”

He laughed, hitting the emergency button to restart the elevator.

“I apologize for giving you so much grief though. I’d do anything to make it up to you,” you said.

“How about letting me take you out then? You’re still here for a few more days, aren’t you?” he asked.

You smiled.

“I think I can make all the time in my schedule for you, Spencer.”

His answering smile was enough to make you smile in return.

Oddly enough, the elevator had gone down and back up without stopping, returning to the floor the BAU was on.

“That’s weird,” Spencer mumbled.

The doors parted to JJ waiting to get on.

“Hey, what are you guys still doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”

Huh, so it’d been an hour.

She got on the elevator, standing between the two of you.

“Elevator issues,” Spencer answered, before you could think of what to say.

“So you’ve been stuck in the elevator together this entire time?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” you answered.

“I guess it’s a miracle you two didn’t tear each other apart then,” she muttered, hitting the button for the ground floor.

Yeah, there might’ve been some tearing involved.

Behind her back, you and Spencer shared a secret smile.

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bellesque · 4 years ago

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can I request a Loki/reader fan fic where Loki and the reader are dating but their sex has been pretty vanilla because he is worried about hurting or scaring her with his darker dominant side and his strength but one day he discovers she is actually into that and he indulges her wishes please? happy birthday and thank you for this!

Kneel (Loki x Reader)

Read on my AO3.

Summary:

Loki’s a little banged up from battle, you’ve got some very specific (read: dirty) thoughts, and you find that’s all it takes for the God of Mischief to indulge in a few of your fantasies.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings/Tags: Smut (duh), Rough Sex, Wall Sex, Cum Play, Overstimulation, Blow Jobs, Slight Dom/sub Dynamics

A/N: My birthday was on the 12th okay YES I KNOW THIS IS SO LATE but I hope you guys enjoy the first of the three fic requests! Loki kind of just took it his own direction, I’m not sure what happened—anyway, if you guys want a part two to this just let me know hihi okay enjoy!

Tag List: @shiningloki @imnotrevealingmyname @wolfsmom1 @hanyasnape @lukeyirwy @toozmanykids (Tag List is currently open! If you’d like to be a part of it, let me know!)

YOU SHOULDN’T BE lying on your cozy spring mattress, with Loki’s arm sprawled across your waist, entirely comfortable, sated from sex, and yet somehow wide awake.

You should be asleep. As knocked out, if not more, as Loki is right now. His breath comes in even pants behind you, a telling sign of the quality of his current rest. While you’re relaxed and your mind is absolutely prepared for bed, you can’t seem to fall into a state of drowsiness.

There are a few late night musings that currently keep you from it. Mostly about, well, sex.

Not that you’re complaining. Loki’s fantastic in bed. He’s gentle, he’s passionate, he’s nurturing and careful… maybe to a fault.

Again. Not that you’re complaining.

It’s just when you date someone like Loki, a literal god, you expect a little more… spice. A little less nice.

But why the restraint? It baffles you. You can tell he’s holding himself back. When you think Loki’s about to slam into you, bruise your hips with the harsh grip of his fingers, he rocks into you with long, slow strokes, kissing your neck and murmuring how amazing you are.

Again. You’re not complaining.

But you wouldn’t be opposed to a little more… bite. As much as you love his romantic lovemaking, you essentially, well—you want to get fucked.

And you’ve tried to make it happen. On multiple occasions. You wrestled him onto his back once, topping him right in the middle of sex. You were expecting him to put you back in your place, even at least instruct you from his position underneath you, but Loki only let you ride him, unbothered in the least.

Okay, maybe you weren’t clear. Maybe he just thought you wanted to try a new position. Fair, fine—it was only the first attempt, you told yourself.

The second time around, you thought you were a bit clearer with your intentions. You got on all fours, wiggling your ass at him as you arched your back and whispered in a sultry tone, “Come get it, mischief.”

Except he rubbed a palm over your ass once and flipped you right over.

It’s not that you’re undesirable. You know Loki loves you with his whole heart. Your gut tells you that there’s more to the rejection to your advancements than he lets on.

Do you come on too strong?

No, you’re sure you don’t. You got the tiniest taste of the forbidden fruit once and just from that, you just know the desire is somewhere inside him, buried deep.

Oh, that moment. That singular, unrestrained moment gives you shudders until now.

You clenched around his cock particularly hard, and Loki rutted into you with a sharp snap of his hips, burying himself deeper, his teeth biting at your earlobe.

You let out a surprised gasp of pleasure… and that was it.

So what do you have to do to get that moment again, repeated into hours and hours of mindblowing, rough sex?

(As it turns out, nothing.)

You drape Loki’s arm over your shoulders, doing your best not to buckle under the weight of him. He’s so fucking heavy, and he knows that—instead of putting his weight onto you, he pulls you closer towards him like some kind of reverse crutch. You huff in frustration. “Lean on me.”

“Which would leave us one too many injured. No, thank you.”

You pull on his singed sleeve. “Lean.”

“Can you handle it?” Loki manages to sound amused despite the current grimace on his face.

A flare of annoyance rises in you together with a fleeting thrill. “I-I can handle it,” you say, neck heating up at the double meaning.

He probably doesn’t think much of it. But you—it’s been eating at your subconscious for a consistent few nights now. Especially when you’ve watched him train every day, those lean muscles rippling and covered in a light sheen of sweat, in preparation for today’s battle.

One which you know he lost.

You and Loki are quiet when you enter the Tower in the dead of night. The weight of defeat hangs heavy in the air, and Loki’s stiff and distracted when you enter the elevator and punch in the button to your designated floor. Carefully you maneuver around him, making sure not to brush against any of his bruises and scrapes, and tilt his chin so you can see him in the elevator light.

Loki gazes at you affectionately, some of his previous frustrations now disappearing from the creases in his face. “You’re awfully concerned, little one. Have you forgotten Asgardians heal faster than mortals?”

“Just let me look at you.”

“You’ve looked at me before.”

“I don’t need your smartass mouth right now.” You brush your thumb against the corner of his mouth, noticing a cut running along his top lip. You soften. “What happened?”

Loki exhales, his expression hardening when he turns away. Your hand falls from his face and the elevator dings. Wordlessly you support him as you walk to your room, keeping in step with him and making sure his limp isn’t too bad.

But hell. He’s heavy.

Once you make it inside, you don’t press further—instead you clean his wounds, help him bathe, and make sure he eats and drinks despite his insistent “I’m fine.” You wear him down. It’s part of your charm. It’s what you do best.

Loki holds you after that. Says nothing about the battle of today’s mission, or his scars; he tucks your head under his chin and rubs your back while you listen to the steady beat of his heart until it lulls you into sleep.

“Do you want to see?”

The deep rumble of Loki’s voice makes you stir. You open your eyes, groggy, and peer up at him. From the looks of it, he’s been awake for a while, staring contemplatively at the ceiling.

“What?” you say, a beat late. You admire his face, no matter how stoic he seems right now.

He looks at you. His face has mostly healed, the cut on his lip now a light scar. “What happened.”

You perk up immediately. “Only if you want to. I mean, you can trust me.”

Loki nods, bringing your foreheads together. Instantly you’re a spectator in the middle of battle. The stench of blood and sweat are pungent in the air, the clatter and clang of weapons mixed with battle cries roaring in your ears. There, a few feet away from you, is Loki.

Pride and attraction weave together and swell inside you as you watch Loki in his element. Graceful. Cunning. Strong. Powerful. You’ve seen him fight, but… but not like this.

His opponent moves to punch him—but Loki catches his fist easily. He anticipates it. Doesn’t even flinch. His heels don’t dig into the dirt like his opponent’s do. The scepter in his other hand pulses blue and he kicks it off the ground, using the momentum to swing it into the man’s face.

“Yield,” he growls, shoving the scepter’s blade against the man’s crumpled form.

Ah, fuck—the way you mishear it and think he says kneel doesn’t exactly help your tendency to gravitate towards dirty thoughts. Your pussy clenches as an image of Loki snarling that single word to you flashes in your mind. You see yourself submitting pretty easily, sinking down onto your knees, eyes trained on his Loki’s pleasured face, and—

The room comes back into focus as you’re whipped back to reality. Loki’s staring at you with wide, curious eyes. Near disbelief, pulled with slight awe.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

His beautiful green eyes darken, a smirk stretching across his lips. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and your heart slams against your ribcage as Loki slowly rolls on top of you, pinning you beneath him.

“I saw… while our minds were connected…” He laughs in a short, breathy kind of way, head falling on your shoulder and nipping at your collarbone. A sharp spike of arousal courses within you. “Oh, sweet, is that what you want? For me to ask you to…” He brings his mouth against your ear, dropping his voice to a seductive purr. “Kneel?”

A shudder slides down your spine.

“Or perhaps”—he trails the tip of his tongue around the helix of your ear—“a command.” Loki bites down on your earlobe, quick and sharp and hard, and heat pools like molten lava in your center. “Kneel.”

Your head is spinning. How is it that you’re so turned on already?

Loki shoves a hand between your legs and you whimper. His fingers hook at your damp underwear, pulling it to the side and trailing a finger along your seam.

“Look at how excited you are,” he breathes. “Already so wet, my love?”

You release a shaky exhale. “Loki…”

He pushes himself off you, but not before he whispers, “Turn around and take your clothes off,” in a rough voice.

Your throat feels like it’s dry and watering at the same time, anticipation rushing into you like a waterfall. You flip over, kneeling on the bed—you hope to be kneeling in front of him soon—and shuck off your pajamas.

Once you’re naked, you’re about to ask Loki what to do next—but without warning, he pushes you down, and you fall forward with a faint squeak as he straddles you from behind. You feel his strong, bare chest heaving against your back, his hard length throbbing between your butt cheeks.

Oh, he’s heavy—in more sinful ways than one.

“You’re going to kneel for me later, little one,” he says, his breath warm against your nape. He positions your arms overhead, your fingertips grazing the headboard. He runs his palms along the outside of your body, until his hands close around your hips.

And then he yanks your bodies up, your hips rolling backwards into the air while your torso remains flattened on the mattress. Loki pushes a knee between your legs and nudges them apart, and you suck in a breath you didn’t know was knocked out of you. He rubs his large palms against the side of your ass cheek.

“Will you follow when I instruct you, pet?” He slaps your ass, hard, the meat of it jiggling even after his palm connects to you.

You bite down on your lip. “Yes.”

“Good.” He smacks your ass again, that same intensity as earlier, and you whimper from the pleasurable sting.

“Do you like that, pet?” He rubs circles over your ass.

“Yes—”

He deals another blow, and you arch your back further. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, Loki, yes!”

A satisfied growl emerges from the back of his throat, and hooking his forearm over your torso he brings your back against him. His hand finds its way onto your breast, which he kneads and squeezes, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

He bites down on your neck when your head falls back against him, sucking on your sensitive spot and drawing moan after moan from you. Your body is extremely warm now, the need to be stuffed with his cock growing, but at the same time, you want to savor this moment. You don’t know how long Loki’s going to play this game with you.

He releases the skin of your neck with a quiet pop. “Get on the floor, sweet,” he rasps, “kneel for me.”

With your thighs trembling, you crawl to the floor, obediently awaiting him with your chest heaving. Loki slides off the bed, standing in front of you, his cock at your eye level. He’s so hard, veins traversing over his thick shaft that throbs ever so slightly.

You want it in your mouth.

Loki rakes his fingers through your hair and guides your head onto his cock. Your lips slide over him slowly, taking in his length until the head hits the back of your throat.

You hollow your lips and suck once, and Loki hisses.

His grip on your hair tightens considerably, trying to get you to swallow him deeper, and you do until you gag a little. Loki stiffens, and you place your hands on his hips and brush his sides slowly, trying to convey that you’re okay.

And then he’s actively guiding you by the hair, cock sinking into your mouth in a steady tempo while he alternates between stroking your hair and neck.

“That’s it. Good girl. Deeper, love,” he husks, hips moving gently in time with you. He looks down at you with desire written all over his face. “Suck my cock. You’re doing so well. Faster. Ah—your mouth is exquisite, pet, come now… milk my cock, make me cum…”

You hum against him, your tongue fluttering against his frenulum, and Loki curses, hips moving faster while you bob on his length. Your tongue swirls around the head when you pull back and you suction your lips at the base of his cock, and soon Loki’s holding your head in place, your jaw going slack as he jerks into your wanting mouth.

You can tell he’s close, and your wetness intensifies when you visualize his cum sliding down your throat.

But then… then he’s pulling out of your mouth and pushing your head back when he pulses with the telltale sign of release. Instead of cumming in your mouth, his seed shoots out in thick ropes over your chin and chest as he groans out his orgasm.

You scramble forward after admiring the spurt of his cum from so close, and you wrap your lips around his cock before he can finish cumming, sucking on him with newfound vigor. He groans again, fisting your hair even tighter, keeping you in place while you flutter your tongue against the ridges of his cock head. You swallow his load, and some if it dribbles down your chin and onto your breasts.

You know he’s watching you, and in the spirit of being bold while you have this chance, you do something bold. You look up at him through lidded eyes, and using your fingers to scoop up some of the cum on your chest, you bring it to your face. You pop off him and slide your cum-covered fingersinto your mouth sensually. You suck and lick your digits, keeping innocent eye contact, and watch his eyes darken.

“You’re a cum thirsty little slut, aren’t you?” he growls, collecting his cum on his fingers and shoving them into your mouth. “Suck. That’s it, like it’s my cock.”

Your pussy is aching for attention now, your body taut with arousal, and you suck on his fingers like your life depends on it. “You taste so good, Loki,” you whisper. “I just want to be filled by your cock. Your cum. Loki, please, give it to me…”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and hoists you up by the nape of your neck like it’s easy. Oh fuck, his intensity and his strength are dizzying. He throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and he smacks your ass.

From this position, you have a clear view of his glutes. And his muscled back. You reach down and just give a tiny squeeze—

He slaps your ass again as he walks you two to the side of the room. “You think you can speak out of turn, little one? Touch my body without my express permission?” He sets you down on your feet with surprising, firm gentleness, and pins you against the wall by the window. “You’re lucky I want to be inside your pussy right now,” he mutters before sealing his lips over yours in a blistering kiss, tongues battling as his hands grope and squeeze at every part of your body. After he sucks on your tongue and leaves you panting and lightheaded, he distances from you to spin you around so your front is to the wall.

He bites down on your shoulder as his cock slips into you and you cry out in pleasure.

“Hands up,” he orders, and you brace your arms against the wall as he pounds into you from behind with unrelenting speed.

You moan, fingers clawing at the wall, trying to find something to ground yourself to. “Loki, your cock, it’s perfect—fuck, Loki, cum inside me, once, twice, fill my fucking cunt—”

He pushes your feet farther apart and lifts you up slightly, the angle causing stars to explode behind your eyes. “Fuck!”

His own hand comes up to brace against the wall beside yours, and he drives deeper into you still. Somehow. “You want my cum, pet? You want to be filled so much that my cum drips out of this delicious cunt for hours?”

Your pussy clenches around him as your orgasm begins to build with a ferocious intensity. Your closed eyes snap open when there’s a noticeable cracking sound by your head.

Cracks spider out on the wall from where his fist is. And that… that single revelation, evidence of his strength, is enough to topple you over and into orgasm.

“Touch yourself,” Loki grunts suddenly, his hands clasping around your wrist and shoving it between your legs.

“I—” you gasp, a shudder wracking your body as your orgasm pulses, “I’m still—”

“Do it.”

You swallow, shaking fingers finding your clit and you rub yourself in rapid circles; Loki hasn’t slowed his pace one bit, and from the overstimulation it doesn’t take long until you’re cumming again.

“That’s it,” Loki coaxes, your toes rising off the floor with every strong, unyielding thrust, “cum all over my cock. Good girl.”

With his cock still inside you, he brings you towards the bed, feet off the floor. He maneuvers you so you twist on his cock and your chests are pressed together. Your back meets the soft mattress and you look up at Loki hovering above you. One of Loki’s hands is braced on the headboard; the other circles your clit lazily. Your mouth stays parted as you stare up at him with glassy, sex-sated eyes.

“Loki…” you say, weak. You feel like jelly, but you aren’t exactly ready to give up the euphoric state of bliss you’re in. “You… you can go even harder—if, if you want to.”

His movements slow to a stop and his eyes fill with quiet adoration. “Are you sure that’s what you want, sweet? I never want to hurt you, or scare you, with my strength.” He manages a small though equally sexy smirk. “And I am a very strong Asgardian as it is.”

You clench, bringing Loki deeper inside you, and he groans. “As hard as you want,” you affirm.

Loki’s eyes widen imperceptibly and his pupils dilate in the same millisecond. And then he’s kissing you fiercely, shoving your knees up over his shoulders and he bottoms out, both of you moaning at the sensation.

“I love you,” he whispers, and you almost can’t hear it. His hips are then slamming into you at breakneck speed. He pins your arms above your head, sucking another bruise into your neck at the same time. The sounds of your sex obscenely fill the room, your already swollen, overstimulated clit stimulated even further with every stroke, and soon you’re screaming hoarsely that you’re about to cum.

Your third—fourth, fifth?—orgasm unravels when you start gyrating as he thrusts into you, your body convulsing with the pleasure that shoots through you. Loki cums seconds later with a shout, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulses inside you. He murmurs dirty nothings against your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses in between.

He pulls out of you, nuzzling your neck, and his hand travels down towards your spent cunt. He spreads your juices across your swollen lips. “How are you, dove?”

“Never been better,” you slur, letting out a relaxed sigh. It’s true. It’s like a nagging itch has finally been scratched.

“Are you sure about that?”

Your eyebrows pull together. “What do you mean?”

Loki grins, dark mischief and desire clouding his eyes. “Quite bold of you, pet, to assume we’re finished.”

He flips you onto your stomach again, his cock hardening behind you as he pulls your arms toward the headboard. There’s a click and the gleam of a metal chain shines in the morning sun.

Loki presses a kiss to your neck, nibbling at the spot behind your ear and whispers something that makes your skin tingle with fresh arousal.

“I’m far from finished with you, pet. Now. On your knees.”

#am i physically incapable of writing requests shorter than 3k #probably #fic request #reader request #loki smut #loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fandom #loki imagine #smut #by belle

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yikestripes · 4 years ago

Text

Across the Bar

a/n: this is lowkey ass but here’s another request filled !!! if i don’t fill your request i am so sorry my inbox is VERY full and some of them get lost in the sauce!!

word count: 2k

warnings: hints at smut but none actually, fluff as always

“Are you sure we can’t cancel?” Spencer whined, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. You had gone to the break room for a last minute pick-me-up before heading out to the bar with the team, not knowing that Spencer had followed you. It had been a long day with the completion of a case early in the afternoon, and the jet ride was only an hour and a half back to Quantico. You knew Spencer wasn’t fond of the bar scene on a good day, let alone after a long winded case.

“Spence, it’s okay, you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to.” You said leaning into him as you made your coffee. Spencer frowned and shook his head.

“No, I’ll go.” You handed Spencer the extra coffee you had made for him and he gulped it down gratefully, pausing to rub his eyes. You grinned and placed a kiss on his cheek before returning to your desk to grab a pair of new clothes. You went to the bathroom to change, and found Emily and JJ already in there, getting ready.

“Hey there!” Emily said, applying a fresh coat of lipstick.

“Did you convince Spence to join us?” JJ asked.

“Somehow yes. It took a lot of coaxing and a few promises of different things for when we get home tonight.” You giggled. Emily’s jaw dropped and JJ raised her eyebrows, sharing a look with Emily.

“Ooooh, dirty things?”

“I don’t kiss and tell!” You replied, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Emily and JJ shared your laughter and you went into the stall to get changed. You emerged in a red, off the shoulder top and a pair of red black skinny jeans with some calf-high heeled boots. You looked in the mirror and grinned at yourself. You looked like a badass. JJ and Emily had already finished and returned to the bullpen by the time you got changed, with Morgan and Spencer. Morgan whistled as you approached and Spencer stopped mid-conversation with JJ to drop his jaw. You knew that red was Spencer’s favorite color, so wearing it in this capacity was a huge thing for him. You grinned as he approached, resting his hands on your waist.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, my love.” He said quietly, placing a quick peck on your lips. Morgan whistled again, and you gave him the finger. He held his hands up in surrender and walked towards the doors, the rest of your team and you following him into the elevator, where Spencer grabbed your hand. Generally Spencer wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, however, he knew that it was your “love language” of sorts, so he would often compromise with small but sweet gestures; such as allowing his hands to rest on your hips or waist, holding your hand, or the occasional peck on the cheek or lips. It was small enough that Spencer was still comfortable, but it made you ridiculously happy.

You split up among yourselves in the parking lot, meeting up at the bar. Hotch promised Emily that he would take his own car there, to which Emily made a face. He gave a look with her that conveyed he had to do something he didn’t want to, such as having a conversation with the witch herself, Erin Strauss. Prentiss broke into a sympathetic smile as she climbed into the car and rocketed out of the parking lot. You plugged your phone into Spencer’s aux to try and get him a bit more perked up, so you put on one of your playlists that he hated the least; and actually had come to enjoy. He hummed along quietly, absentmindedly stroking his thumb across the top of your hand. You stared out the window and just appreciated the quiet time you got with your love. You arrived shortly later, and the drinking had commenced as soon as you and Spence walked in. Garcia shoved a Bay Breeze into your hand and forced you to chug it for being late.

You complied, shotgunned the drink, and slammed it back down on the bar with a cheer. Garcia seemed satisfied and you felt a hand on the small of your back; it was Spencer. He had a weird look on his face, following his gaze you quickly realized why- some guy at the bar was staring at your ass. His look quickly changed to a scowl as he pulled you in and placed a passionate kiss on your lips, to show the entire place you were entirely his. He pulled away and you quickly pecked his lips and smiled.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you too.” Spence grinned and took a sip of his beer, grimacing at the taste. It was one of the alcoholic drinks he despised the least, but that was not to say that he was particularly fond of it. He couldn’t understand how Morgan was such a fan of the drink, but learned quickly not to ask questions. To each his own.

Spencer lost track of you rather quickly as you were a little ways away, at the other end of the bar, doing shots. Suddenly Spencer felt a presence behind him, and looked back to see Morgan.

“What’s up, Boy Wonder? You look a little lost.” Spencer frowned and shrugged.

“I just don’t like the party bar sort of scene, but I wanted to make (Y/N) happy.” Morgan chuckled and took a sip of his beer.

“Pretty boy, you are both very very sweet, and frankly quite whipped.” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his friend, who was being beckoned by Garcia. Spencer followed behind and when you saw him, you lit up.

“Hey you,” You said, reaching out your hand. Spencer took it gratefully, and pulled you into a hug. You melted into him.

“You guys wanna grab a seat at the bar, get some apps and a few more drinks?” Morgan offered, taking Garica’s hand. You all agreed and Prentiss walked away to call Hotch, to see if he was on his way and if he wanted anything for when he got there.

Your time at the bar was relatively short lived before moving to a table to accommodate the group better. Morgan sat back with his arm slung around Garcia’s shoulders, who was getting closer to tipsy with every sip of her margarita. You were talking about first kisses, to which you felt Spencer tense up slightly beside you, like he so often did during these sorts of conversations.

“I mean, I kissed my childhood best friend on the playground, but I doubt that really counts.” You paused.

“Not really. It counts for something, but it’s not your real like, first kiss. Spill it, girl.” Morgan said, smirking.

“Alright, alright. I was a sophomore in high school; my best friend had this family friend who had a son a year younger than us, who went to high school with us. He was really sweet, but also very VERY quiet. We were sort of friends, in a sense. Like, we knew each other and would text back and forth sometimes, mostly about a bio class we had together, but regardless. I really liked him and he never expressed any real interest in me, other than just like smiling at me and getting close to me, which didn’t mean much. Anyway, my best friend and I went to a New Year’s Eve party at his house and we were mostly hanging out in the basement or floating around with the various kids we went to high school with, just hanging out and other teenager stuff. Lo and behold, it’s the countdown to midnight and he appeared at my side. It became midnight and he grabbed my hand so I would look at him, he took my head in his hands and just kissed me.” You smiled at the memory of the sweet boy who only lasted in your life for about a month.

Derek laughed, Garcia and Prentiss awed, and Spencer didn’t really express anything. He just took a quiet sip of his beer.

“Alright, I said. It’s your turn, Prentiss!” Her eyes widened as she shook her head.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” She smirked, echoing your words from earlier today. You rolled your eyes as Hotch approached the table.

“Saved by the bell.” You muttered as Emily stood, giving Hotch a quick peck on the lips. He smiled and sat beside her.

“Another round?” You offered, standing up with your now empty glass. You crossed the room and took a seat at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you. You saw someone sit beside you out of your peripheral and realized it was Garcia, who was grinning wickedly.

“Hi, Sweets.” She said, sounding entirely too innocent. You narrowed your eyes.

“What did you do?” You asked.

“Nothing!”

“Pen.”

“I didn’t do anything. I have an idea,” She smirked.

“Oh God, what?”

“I saw this hilarious thing on Twitter last night where you text your significant other something SUUUPER nasty when you’re in a public setting together to see how they react.” You considered it for a minute, when the bartender approached. You listed off the group’s order and he disappeared.

“You’ve caught my attention, Pen. Have you tried it with Derek?” She raised her eyebrow.

“Have I tried it. Please, honey. I’ve done it 4 times tonight alone, have you noticed him even FLINCH?” You glanced back at Morgan, who was clapping Hotch on the back. Your eyes wandered to Spencer, who was finally smiling, and looked like he was actually having a good time. Perfect opportunity.

“You’re on, Garcia. $20 says Spencer blushes, shifts in his seat, and looks down at the table.”

“Alright, I say he smirks, rests his head on his hand, and gives you that look he does right before you leave the BAU.” A flush filled your face as you realized that your allegedly “discreet” look was apparently not so discreet.

The bartender returned with the drinks seconds later, and you only had about a minute to come up with something GOOD. With the help of Garcia, you got to work crafting the dirtiest text you could think of that would earn you the response you were looking for from your boyfriend.

Spencer felt his phone vibrating in his pocket which immediately alarmed him, considering the few people that would actually text him were all sitting with him. Besides you, who had gone to the bar, but you wouldn’t have just disappeared and only sent a text. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read the text he received from you, immediately reacting the way you thought he would.

He quickly locked his phone and put it face down on the table, running a hand through his hair in discomfort. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, among other places, as he began shifting in his seat to try and discreetly make himself a bit more comfortable. He stared at the table, hard, as if he was going to burn a hole through it with his eyes. Meanwhile, you were collecting $20 from Garcia across the room, in tears from laughing so hard. With Penelope’s help you escorted the drinks back to the table, earning a few cheers from your friends. You sat beside Spencer and placed a casual hand on his thigh, making him squirm even more.

“Why did you do that?!” He whispered in your ear.

You simply smirked in response and took a sip of your drink.

“Let’s just say i’m now $20 richer.” Spencer narrowed his eyes at you before looking around the table, his eyes landing very quickly on Garcia. She was being uncharacteristically quiet and still leaning on Derek, but avoiding eye contact with Spencer. He scowled and she ignored it, trying to suppress her laughter.

You placed a chaste kiss on Spencer’s cheek and he shifted again, but grabbed your hand anyway. For what it was worth, Spencer was definitely very good at putting up with your mischievous ways.

You unlocked your phone to send someone a text, when you saw your own to Spencer. You grinned in spite of yourself.

I can’t think about anything besides you throwing me on the bar and ravaging me in every way you please. You know, kinda like last night…. I’ve never heard you say my name so loud.

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