#oh brian please keep smiling

[thefairyfellermasterstroke]

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Like no one is watching

summary: a little stream rekindles feelings that had been lurking somewhere in between the lines. Or have they?

a/n *hits chest* guilty, guilty, guilty... yet I had to write this because I was about to go insane. Don't come for my head. Had never written for this man before. Enjoy. 🤍🫧

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It was supposed to be a chill night. Nothing big. Nothing special. All Vince wanted was to hang out with a couple of his old friends and mess around for a bit on stream. He needed to get his mind off the last couple of games that weren't his best. And it was just that—a good evening filled with goofy jokes—until Brian went quiet for a minute before saying, "Uuu, Y/N is coming over," and Vince's body nearly had an out-of-body experience. One that makes you fella as if, suddenly, you are standing a foot away from your body, and it almost feels like tunnel vision, but then it all snaps back into place. Yet Vince pulled the most neutral facial expression he could master before saying, "The one from the game?" making Brian simply hum in confirmation as he typed out a message to you.

The thing was, that it was stupid to even pretend that Vince didn't know you. Or that he only had seen you in one of his games as Brian's plus one. Well, besides being one of the NHL investor's daughter—a tag you shook off with a frown every time. You had made quite a name for yourself on your own. You had graduated from medical school with honors. And had opened a boutique in downtown Chicago... Not that Vince was keeping tabs or anything.

The truth was that he had never paid much attention to you at sports events or gatherings. Not that you were there often. But something about you standing there in the stands during his last game had messed with Vince's brain chemistry, and Vince just hadn't been the same ever since. He had, of course, asked Brian about your friendship and felt even more whiplashed when his friend casually shrugged while saying that you two had known each other for years. A friend of a friend. And since the energy was comparable, you had stayed in touch.

"Vince, keep the chat entertained while I let her in," Brian got up quickly, but not before stopping to address chat too, "Guys, your favorite person is here." Vince was once again left wondering how many times you two streamed together. And kicking himself for never really finding the time to watch his friends' lives. Laughter echoed from the hallway, and Vince had to mentally tell himself not to look back so he wouldn't come off too desperate. Paying extra attention to the sea of messages about how everyone was so excited to see you.

"Make some noise, make some noise," Brian shouted as he sprinted back, clapping his hands. He pulled the mic to his lips, "The one and only, Y/n Y/L/N." Your laughter filled the room, quickly followed by the clicking of your heels. "You are insane," you muttered, stepping through the door. A slight surprise washed over your face when your eyes fell on Vince, sitting in one of the chairs, but it was quickly masked by a warm smile. "Oh, hey, Vince," you muttered before leaning forward slightly to wave at the camera.

"Hey guys, long time no see. Please tell me that you've been making fun of Brian for me", you smirked, sticking your tongue out at him. "Changed my mind; I don't want you here," he huffed, playfully pulling at your hand. Vince blinked a couple of times. Finally realized that he had been staring at you the whole time, but then who could blame him? You had caught his eye back then with a messy bun, baggy jeans, and his team's jersey on. Now, with a black dress, heels, and full of glam. Lord was on his side, and he was sure glad that he had been sitting.

"Do I know Vince?" you read, your eyes darting to the awfully quiet hockey player to your right. "Yeah, we met. Was at his game, actually", you nodded slowly. "I should know all the rules by now, but..." Pulling a face, you shook your head. You avoided the games like a plague. Daddy's girl in the stadium. Those words alone made you want to run. You would rather fall face-first into dog shit. "We'll get you to more games, and you'll get it in no time," Vince's voice made your head snap back to him. The fucker dared to smirk too. Oh, but you knew his type. Heard all about it, and two could play this game. "Is that an offer?", you asked innocently. Vince only shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, "A fact." Your eyes stayed glued to each other. You hated how you could never get a read on him. How could a guy look both like the biggest mistake and like a gift from the Lord himself?

"They want to see your fit, Y/n," Brian's voice made you blink. Turning your attention back to the camera, you muttered, "Oh, wait," you backed up slightly. Trying to fit at least most of your body in a frame. "Do a twirl," Brian clapped his hands like a kid, making you shake your head. "Of fuck you, that's stupid," you muttered. "No cap, do a twirl," he motioned with his finger for you to do as he said. You rolled your eyes, but then you did feel cute today, so a little hype has never hurt anybody. "It's nothing," you said as you twirled a couple of times, "a black dress and these awful heels." You lifted one of your feet slightly, showing the sparkly, black heel.

"My turn!" Brian shouted, stepping up front as he went on a rant about what he was wearing. You stepped aside with a giggle. He was way too excited to do this, so alcohol had to be involved in this steam in some way. "Sponsorship event?", Vince said under his breath, clearly only trying to catch your attention. "You know it...", breathing out, you let out a sigh. People might call you ungrateful for this, but you hated attending anything that involved your father and his money. You were like a shiny toy for him. "Do you hate them?", he asked, catching a slight frown on your face. "Tell me about it," you said, laughing under your breath. "I ain't a fan as well," he added with a nod. "Oh, I know", you muttered, stepping aside from his chair.

"I will go for now; I need to get out of these before I start bleeding all over the floor," you chuckled, pointing to your feet once you found a minute of silence. You didn't want to just get up and walk out, so one way or another, you would have to find a little excuse to slip away. "Just get them off here," Brian muttered, not seeming to care as he scrolled through his playlist, looking for a new song to sing along to. "And flash the chat while doing so?", you rolled your eyes, "You wish for free content like that." You were about to wave your last goodbye when Vince cut in, "I'll get them." For a split second, you had hoped that you had misunderstood his intentions. So you just shook your head with a polite, "It's okay," but Vince scooted his chair closer. "No, no, I got it," he muttered, bending over.

A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hands on your skin. "No, Vince," you muttered. But he just continued pulling at the strap; his warm fingers touching your cold ankle, sending shivers down your whole body. He fidgeted with it for a moment, but with an awkward angle, it sure wasn't an easy task. You were hoping that he was just going to give up, but his palm grasped your leg just slightly above your knee as he nudged it to a more comfortable angle for him. You nearly let out a shriek, but it turned into you biting your lip. Your hands pressed against his shoulder as you steadied yourself.

But God the feeling of relief once he finally pulled the scrappy shoes off. Near heavenly. Making your head fall back as you hummed in delight, "Remind me to boycott high heels from today," you muttered. Not to mention that you didn't miss the way Vince's hands lingered on your skin before he pulled back away from you. His gaze moves upwards to catch your eyes. And the urge to just take his face between your fingers and... Pull yourself together, Yn. You turned away quickly. Hoping to hide the slight blush on your cheeks. "It was nice seeing you guys", you waved your hand to the camera before quickly picking up your heels and padding out of the room.

Vince's heart was beating so hard against his chest. He was toying with a dangerous line. Girls like you were off-limits for a reason. The rules were pretty clear, too. It was bad enough that this was on the internet. One stupid move and his head would be drilled raw with people screaming at him. Nor did it help that your daddy dearest had spent some pretty coin on his team this year. Yet Vince was itching to get up and follow you. Little could be done with the cameras on, but outside this room, where no one could see you...

"Do you want another drink?" Vince said, causing Brian to shake his can, which, to Vince's luck, was indeed empty. "I'll get..." Brian had started, but Vince was already up and out of his chair. "I've got you, man," he said, tapping his friend's shoulder. He only had one shot at this. You can only get lucky so many times. But he didn't even need to go looking for you because the moment Vince rounded the corner to the kitchen, you were there. Leaning against the counter with your hands crossed over your chest.

"You're following me or something?", you muttered, tilting your head to the side. Vince tossed the empty cans out. "Or something," he muttered back. "Now you think you're funny?", you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing back from the corner to step closer to him. "What do you want, Dunn?", you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. A smirk tugged on his lips. That devilish one. One that turned him from an angel to a man of sins in seconds. "Back to the last name once again; you know I like it." His words were breathy and low as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing you to pull back.

"You look really good," Vince muttered, letting his eye fall down your body. Following your curves before your laughter filled the empty place. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, frowning slightly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "You came here to tell me that I looked good?". This guy was something different. Yet your fingers reached up to his jaw, brushing over his jawbone. "You're adorable," you muttered. This time it was Vince who was pulling away, "I'm not adorable."

You bit your lip, trying to keep a serious face. Of course, he would get offended by a comment like that. "Yeah, I forgot that you're an angry puppy, my bad," you said with a firm nod of your head. Vince let out a huff, licking his lips as he stepped forward once more, towering over you. "Careful," he breathed out, leaning closer to your face. "Or what?", you urged him, not willing to back down. Your own hands moved to rest against his chest as you stepped on your toes. His warmth seeped into your palms. Vince's arms were pressed on either side of you. Caging you within his arms, "Or you might see a very different side of me." Your smirk matched his now as you bit your lip, tilting your head to the side. "Like..." you pushed on, wanting to see just how far he would let himself go.

"Not afraid that daddy will get mad?" The warm feeling in your stomach turned to ice. The smile faded from your lips as you reared back. "Oh, fuck you," you hissed, pulling at his arm to get away from him. You should have known better. "Y/n," Vince tried to grasp your arm, but you yanked it away quickly, "Forget it, Dunn." With a quick look around the kitchen, you grabbed your stuff and headed straight to the door, cursing yourself for willingly choosing to come here in the first place.

[achenetype]

Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday. 

You think you’re going to die. 

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

[ihrtsevyn]

Can you please write something about Johnnie getting jealous🫶🏼

— JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY . . . 𖤐 | j.g x reader

moved to: @kiemiu

synopsis small scenario + headcanons of johnnie being jealous !

warnings slightly aggressive behavior?, cursing, lowercase intended, no specific race/gender/age specified. use of gender neutral terms. reader is intoxicated in the scenario. talks of insecurity.

wc 1.3k

masterlist | main page <3

. . .

SCENARIO:

johnnie would like to think that he isn't a jealous person, but undeniably he is. there's not a worse feeling than seeing the person you love fawn over another.

the feeling that grows in his stomach is unsettling, it makes him want to throw up. do you always scrunch your nose up when you laugh? is this guys jokes really that funny? the way you throw your head back and let out a loud cackle makes it seem so, but johnnie fully believes you're putting on a show. johnnie's funny too. you would know if you weren't so busy cuddled up under...brian? brad? whatever his name is, it doesn't matter. that should be him.

jake had been talking johnnie's ear off for the past 15 minutes about a small brawl that happened between two girls, or was it two guys? johnnie couldn't remember, his eyes had been laser focused on you the entire evening, his ears only picking up bits and pieces of jake's story. the sight hurt him, truthfully. it really shouldn't have because you two weren't dating but he did believe there was something going on between you two. an unspoken mutual attraction.

"dude, you haven't blinked once in the past twenty minutes i've been talking to you." jake worriedly mentioned with raised eyebrows.

jake's small comment easily caught johnnie off-guard. he rubbed his eyes with his free hand before rapidly blinking. his taller friend was joking but it was comical to see the emo get red in the face from embarrassment.

"just go talk to them." jake muttered, following his friends gaze. "they're busy, can't you tell?" johnnie mumbled bitterly before finally tearing his eyes away from your form for the first time that night.

he looked down at the solo cup that he maintained a loose grip on, woefully swirling the alcohol in choppy motions. he couldn't even remember what he was drinking at that point. ever since he laid eyes on that familiar face it's all he's been thinking about. you. you. you.

as well as the fact that all of your attention was on some other guy when it should be him.

jake scoffed before taking a quick sip of his drink, head shaking in disappointment. "just go talk to her, i can't stand to see you looking like a kicked puppy all night."

he tapped johnnie's shoulder a few times before escaping off into another conversation.

johnnie's gaze followed jake's form until he was fully out of sight, turning his full attention back to you. what he didn't expect was for your eyes to already be settled on him, making him freeze in the spot.

you offered him a kind smile before waving him over. he hesitated in his steps before taking quick strides over to you. what happened to that guy you were talking to?

"hey." he quietly muttered with a tight lipped smile. "hey, are you enjoying the party?" you asked. from that sentence alone, johnnie quickly came to the conclusion that you were fucked up. your smile was wide and blissful, eyes glossy and spaced out, not to mention the drunken drawl in your voice.

"sure, are..are you okay?" johnnie asked, a worried tilt in his voice. you nodded your head with closed eyes. the way your head lolled to the side and the cheshire grin on your face made johnnie think that you weren't fully aware of how drunk you had gotten.

"have you met my new friend brandon? he just went to go make us some more drinks. but he's so funny, i swear you'll love him." your pronunciation of words was all over the place and you could barely keep your eyes from closing.

oh, right. brandon was his name. johnnie rolled his eyes at the simple mention of the man before sighing and taking the seat next to you. even with your dazed state you could see the clear annoyance on his face. "i think it's time we get you home, hm?" johnnie muttered, eyes softening at your doe eyed stare.

"you don't like him, do you?" you asked quietly, completely ignoring johnnie's last statement. his eyebrows furrowed at your comment, slightly caught off guard by your question. "what? what do you mean? who don't i like?"

"brandon. you've been staring knives at us the whole time we've been talking."

shit. you saw him? "i-i dont even know the guy enough to hate him." johnnie nervously croaked out, his smile fell weak as he avoided your gaze.

"if i didn't know any better id say...you're jealous." you muttered, a sly smile growing on your lips. "what? no! come on, let's get you home, you're talking nonsense."

"don't you wanna wait for brandon?" you asked looking up at him as he grabbed your arm, pulling you up. "no." he immediately answered with slightly widened eyes.

you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your mouth as you leaned into him for support. "you're definitely jealous." you quietly stated another muted laugh following after.

. . .

HEADCANONS:

he gets quieter. johnnie himself isn't the loudest most out-spoken person but when shuffles to the side and stops inserting himself in certain conversations, you'll know something's wrong.

becomes passive aggressive. he doesn't really mean to, it just comes naturally. the person that you seem to take a liking to makes a joke at someones expense and johnnie will find a way to turn it back on them. adding in snippy comments whenever they talk open their mouth and scoffing in disbelief when you laugh at one of their corny jokes.

tries to act unbothered. he'll force a smile and shrug his shoulders if someone asks him if he's okay. his responses are curt and have a monotonous tone, his voice straining sometimes as he forces out an "i'm good." he thinks he looks cool and unbothered when in his jealous state but instead he looks spaced out and miserable. it's very noticeable how frigid his posture becomes, his jaw clenching in annoyance as he stares daggers at whoever is taking up too much of your time.

overthinks. johnnie has been hurt before and he doesn't want it to happen again. his mind starts to go to a dark place and insecurities start to rise to the surface. he hates feeling this way so once he realizes these harmful thoughts are starting to come back he won't hesitate to voice his thoughts to you. you mean a lot to him and he'd hate for your relationship to go off of the rails because of a lack of trust or because of an insecurity that's been uprooted.

will isolate himself. if he's feeling jealous to the point of anger then he'll outwardly avoid you until he cools down. he goes to the quietest place available and is just alone with his thoughts, which isn't the best idea when he's starting to lose confidence in the role of being your boyfriend.

seeks comfort. in all honesty johnnie doesn't get jealous that easily, it's a rare thing. but when it does happen it's kind of hard to pull him out of that self-deprecating headspace. he won't outright ask for your comfort but as you build your relationship and notice his habits, it's easy to realize when he's in need of some reassurance.

he'll become a fidgety and nervous mess. his thoughts becoming more clouded and loud as time went on. half of his thoughts are telling him to grow a pair and the other half are worriedly expressing their concerns about the state of your relationship. he really just needs to hear you say that he's all you want/need.

once he gets that reassurance that he's the love of your life accompanied with an unwavering confidence from you, he starts to feel all better. even a bit cocky when he hears how you fawn over him. his once congested thoughts become clear of any and all doubt and he's suddenly smiling from ear to ear. he realizes how stupid it was to feel any type of jealousy when it's clear that the love you share for each other is equal.

. . .

thank you sm for the request! i really enjoy writing for johnnie lol. hope you guys like it <3 :)

requests are still open if you guys have any ideas :)

[justagalwhowrites]

Stitches: Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

Joel comes into the clinic after getting hurt on the job. A non-canon one shot set in the Lavender universe.

^Gif not representative of reader's appearance, just here for the vibes.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author to be paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender, QZ era

Warnings: Brief description of injury. Angst. Smut (P in V sex). No use of Y/N, Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4k

A/N: Sooooo this one got a little away from me (shocking, I know.) I can't promise all of this collection will be this long but apparently I really missed Joel and Doc. Written for @suzmagine after she requested QZ era Joel and Doc with angst and smut :)

For You Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sunday, September 20, 2015 

“I’ve got one more for you,” Marta hovered outside the patient room, a file folder in her hands. 

You groaned. 

“Another one?” You asked. “Shouldn’t we be done for the day by now? Shouldn’t we have been done for the day an hour ago?” 

“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” she replied. “I’m the one who’s been pulling double duty all day because Andrew’s out…” 

“And I’m the one who’s had twice the patient load because the entire QZ has the flu,” you sighed before you pinched the bridge of your nose. This wasn’t helping either of you. “Alright, just… Please tell me this is the last one.” 

“Last one,” she said. “Doors are locked.” 

“Speakeasy after this?” You asked, opening the folder. 

“I would but Brian and I are going to a friend’s place tonight,” she smiled, almost sheepishly. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” you sighed. “I just need to get a life….” You glanced down at the intake notes. Just stitches and antibiotics, on order from FEDRA. “This looks basic, why don’t you head on out. I can finish up here.” 

“Really?” She asked. You just nodded and she squealed a little. “Thank you so much!” 

You tried to not be jealous of the fact that she had a life to go home to. In all reality, you shouldn’t be upset about staying late at work. It’s not like you had anything else going on. Once Tommy left the QZ and Andrew and Jess started spending more time just the two of them while she was down for the count because of her pregnancy, you pretty much spent your time not at work at home, doing a lot of nothing. 

“I need a hobby,” you muttered to yourself before making your way down to the exam room where your last patient was waiting for you. 

You knocked once on the door and gave the patient a moment to answer before you opened it, reviewing the intake notes as you did.  

“Hi there,” you said, looking up from the file. “I’m….” 

Your voice trailed off. Joel was sitting there, perched on the end of the exam table, his eyes ranging over you. 

“Don’t think you need to introduce yourself, Kid,” he said, giving you a wry half smile. 

You looked back at the file. In the name field was just J.M. - FEDRA. You frowned and looked back at him. 

“FEDRA sent you in?” You set the file down on the counter before going to wash your hands. “Why, did you pick a fight with a guard?” 

“No,” he quirked his jaw. “Just some equipment on sewer duty.” 

“Lucky you,” you said, pulling your chair up beside the table. You sat down, closer to him than you’d been since you’d been almost blown up before Tommy left the QZ. “Well, I’m sure you’d rather see anybody else but I’m afraid there’s something going around and I’m the only doctor who’s here right now. Since you’re here on FEDRA orders, I can’t really let you leave and come back another time…” 

“S’fine,” he cut you off. “It’s not… I don’t mind. That it’s you, I mean.” 

“Oh,” you said, a little taken aback. You tried to hide it as you pulled on your gloves. “Well that’s… good. Why don’t take off your shirt, looks like the injury is on your stomach?” 

“Yeah,” he said, unbuttoning his top. “They put a bandage on me there but said I’d need stitches and shit to keep it from gettin’ infected.” 

“Yeah, I feel like dying from an infection that doesn’t turn people into monsters in this day and age is a bit of a raw deal.” 

Joel snorted and shrugged out of the shirt. You saw a bandage, stained with blood, near his belly button. You winced a little, even though you’d seen so much of Joel’s blood at this point you thought you should be used to it. But it never got any easier, knowing he was putting himself at risk, knowing he was in pain. 

Blood was a good distraction, though, when you thought about it. Joel without his shirt had always been a weak spot for you. Blood was one way to keep you from focusing on things you shouldn’t. Like the fact that his chest was broad and firm and you knew just what it would be to rest your head against him there and listen to the steady thrum of his heart as you fell asleep. 

“I’m going to remove the bandage, OK?” You said, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. He just gave you a single nod and you pulled down the bundle of gauze and tape to expose a jagged cut that dipped into the muscle of his abdomen. You hissed a little in sympathetic pain. “What’d you do, Joel?” 

“Had to jump to dodge an out of control truck,” he said. “Ended up landin’ on something sharp. Hurt like a bitch but… had worse.” 

“Had worse is a damn low bar for you,” you said, gingerly examining the wound. “Good news is, this is even cleaner than I expected. Actually, you’re cleaner than I expected, you don’t smell like you were on sewer duty.” 

“Yeah, well, figured patchin’ me up wouldn’t do much if I was covered in shit,” he said, voice beaten down by the misery that was QZ life. It was a tone you knew well. “Showered before I came.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“I’ll numb you up and get this all closed,” you said, sitting back from him. “Go ahead and lie back for me while I get set up.” 

You gathered what you needed and came back to find Joel flat on the table, his hands folded over the base of his chest. The cracked face of the watch glinted in the florescent light and you tried not to think about how his arms looked bare. You hadn’t seen his arms bare in so long. 

You cleared your throat and pulled the chair back up alongside him and changed gloves. 

“Small poke,” you said as you injected the local anesthetic. He grunted but stayed still. You gave it a few minutes to kick in before you gently prodded the wound. “Feel that?” 

“No,” he said. 

You nodded and set to work, flushing out the wound and aligning his damaged skin to stitch it closed. 

“So,” you said after the silence was heavy in the room. “How’ve you been since Tommy left?” 

His body tensed a little. 

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Just a bit quiet around the apartment.” 

You nodded slowly, focusing on your stitching. 

“I hope you’re not just sitting in there all alone,” you said, half teasing half serious. “Even you need social contact now and then.” 

“M’fine.” 

There was something in his tone that made you feel like he was not, in fact, fine. As much as you tried to forget, you carried so much of the intimacies of Joel Miller within you. How he looked when his face was relaxed in sleep, how he felt when he held you like you were the only thing he had left in the world, how he sounded when he was in pain. He sounded that way now. 

“Are you?” You asked, lifting your eyes from his stomach to look up his body to his face. His head was raised just enough to look back at you. 

“Not your damn business what I am or what I’m not,” he snapped, lowering his head back to the exam table. “Leave it.”

“I’m just…” you paused as you finished the last stitch. “I worry about you sometimes is all. I know you don’t have a lot of people, Joel, and…” 

“I’m not your fuckin’ problem,” he bit out, sitting up so fast that you shocked back from him. “I don’t need you pokin’ around my life and fuckin’ it up anymore than you already have so just leave it, alright!” 

“Alright,” you said quietly, tears pinching at the back of your throat. 

“You done sewin’ me shut?” He snapped. You nodded, still trying to resist the urge to cry. “Good.” 

He snatched his shirt up and stalked out of the room, not even stopping to put it on. 

You took a deep, shaky breath, staring at the place where Joel had just been. You tried not to think about how, for just a few minutes, there had been a quiet intimacy there like there had been with him before. How he felt comfortable and safe beside you, where you could run your fingers over his skin and see where his hair was starting to gray. 

You gave yourself a few minutes to calm down before you started cleaning up, trying to focus on getting home so you could curl up in a ball in your bed where you were warm and safe, even if you were alone. You were starting to clear the tray of tools when you realized the syringe of penicillin was still there, shiny and full. 

You’d never given him the antibiotics. 

“Shit,” you muttered, voice wet. 

You set it aside and finished cleaning up before grabbing a bottle of pain killers and an oral course of antibiotics and setting out to Joel’s place. 

He answered quickly, all but ripping the door open and looking surprised to find you there when he did. 

“What do you want,” he snapped. 

“You still need antibiotics,” you said quietly, fighting to not flinch back from him. You held up the small bag with the syringe, bandages and pills inside. “You left before I could give them to you.” 

He quirked his jaw but stepped aside, opening the door wide enough for you to come in. You set the bag down on the table and started taking off your coat. 

“Didn’t say you could fuckin’ stay,” Joel said, voice still sharp. 

“I figured you’d want me having full range of motion with my arms when I’m sticking you with a needle,” you said harshly before closing your eyes for a moment, forcing yourself to calm down. “I need to get at the wound again so… shirt off.” 

He ground his teeth but obeyed, pulling the shirt off. You sat down at the table and got the syringe ready and he stood beside you there and you had the strangest urge to kiss his stomach. You pressed your lips together instead. 

“If you didn’t run off this would probably hurt less,” you said. “But the anesthetic might be wearing off already so… small pinch.” 

You pressed the syringe into his skin and pushed down on the plunger. He flinched once and that was it. 

“Just going to bandage you up,” you said, not waiting for a response. 

“Why’d you come here,” Joel asked as you taped the bandage over his damaged skin. You looked up at him, frowning. His eyes were on yours, deep and warm and chocolate brown. 

“You needed…” 

“Don’t give me that,” he cut you off. “You could have fuckin’ left it, told you enough times that I don’t want shit to do with you now so why are you really here? Not like FEDRA was gonna come and check and make sure I was on their ordered drugs so what is it?” 

“Do you really think I’d just let something happen to you?” You asked quietly. “You might not care if I live or die anymore but I care about you. I’m always going to care about you.” 

You didn’t wait for.a response. You looked back to his stomach and finished taping the bandage in place before taking the pills out and setting them on table before getting up and pulling your jacket back on.

“Instructions are on the bottles,” you said. “Take all the antibiotics, every last one, I don’t care if you’re feeling well and your cut is magically healed, still take them. Change out the bandages every 24 hours for the first few days, come by the clinic if there’s a lot of blood or discomfort. Pain medication as needed. I’m sure you’ll just sell whatever’s left…” 

You grabbed the now empty bag off the table and turned to go to the door but Joel’s hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back around. You frowned, looking at where he was touching you before looking back to him. 

“Joel…” 

“You really think I don’t care about you?” He asked, voice heated. “You really think I don’t give a shit? Hm?” 

You shrank back from him as much as you could while he held you in place, his grip on you tight. 

“Joel…” you said again but he cut you off. 

“You think I don’t care if you live or die?” It took you a moment to realize that he didn’t sound angry. He sounded… hurt? Offended? Both? “Jesus…” 

“You’re hurting me, Joel.” 

He scowled but dropped your wrist. 

“After everything I’ve done,” he snapped. “After everything we’ve been through, you think I don’t fuckin’ care?” 

“Why would I think you care?” You tried to sound mad but you just sounded hurt, your voice quivering. “All you’ve done for years now is tell me how I hurt you, how you wish you’d never met me, how you don’t want to see me again! Even when you’ve done something that you say is for me or because of me you act like your obligated to me in some way but you’re not and I wish you’d just leave me alone! I can’t keep doing this with you, I’m so tired of being your burden, Joel!” 

You tried to turn to go but his hands were on you again but on your shoulders this time, his fingers digging into your flesh there. His eyes searched yours for half a moment before he pulled you sharply to him, his hands flying from your shoulders to your face to tilt your head to just the right angle, gripping you tight and desperate, before his lips crashed into your own. 

It took you a second to fully understand what was happening but your body responded before your mind. It might have been years since you last kissed Joel but your lips knew his. They conformed to his like the familiar ground they were, giving to the hot press of him as he licked into your mouth. 

You moaned and wrapped your arms around his waist, forgetting, for a moment, that he was injured. He hissed in pain and you tried to pull back but his grip on you grew tighter, fingertips pressing into your skull. Your body curved against his and you were suddenly acutely aware that he was shirtless, that you could feel his skin on yours if you could just take your own shirt off, too. 

His hold on you eventually loosened and he pulled back from you, the brown of his iris almost entirely swallowed by his pupil now as he panted for breath. His thumbs traced the arch of your cheekbones. 

“I care,” he said, voice hungry and low. “I care more about you than about any other person left on this godforsaken planet…” 

“Joel…” you were breathless, heat and tension pooling at your core. 

“And I’m tired of tryin’ to stay away from you.” 

He pulled you back against him, gently that time. His lips were soft on yours, his tongue tracing the seam of you until you opened for him. You could properly taste him now, the mint of his toothpaste and the bitter tang of liquor and the familiar flavor of his skin. You drank it up, needing it like water. His hands left your face, sliding down your body to your waist. He pulled at your shirt, separating from you just enough to pull it up and over your head, taking a moment to look down at your body, an expression of almost reverence on his face as he panted for breath. 

Joel tugged you toward him again, his mouth quickly finding yours, as he unhooked your bra. He slid that off your body, too, and cradled you to him. 

You moaned into his mouth, you couldn’t help it, as your arms went around his neck. His skin was everywhere, so soft and so warm and just like you remembered. He felt so good against you, like home, and the ache of missing him flared to life inside your chest, sharp and cruel. 

Part of you knew you should put a stop to this now, before it went any further. He was only going to push you away again, just like he had after Boston. It was only going to hollow you out and leave you feeling more desperately alone than ever. 

But you couldn’t resist him. You’d missed him too much over the years, he was too much a part of you to ever dream of pushing him away. You needed this. You needed him. 

You let him guide you toward the couch, his fingers prying at the button of your jeans before pushing those and your underwear down your body, too. You stepped out of them and your shoes together before Joel gently lowered you, completely bared to him, to the rough, aging fabric of the couch. You watched as he stood over you, your eyes wide, as he opened his own pants, freeing his cock and swiping his thumb over his leaking tip before stroking himself in long, slow strokes. 

“Tell me you want this,” his voice trembled. “We can stop right now…” 

“I need you,” you cut him off with a needy whisper. “Please.” 

He didn’t need any more prompting. He shoved his pants and underwear down before he nudged your legs apart and settled between them. He gripped the root of his thick, heavy cock and trailed his tip over your leaking slit, moaning as he did. 

“Missed this wet little pussy,” he notched his head at your entrance before thrusting halfway inside you with a short, sharp stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, your back arching and fingers scrambling at the tattered upholstery. “Fuck, still so fuckin’ tight. Gotta be fuckin’ dripping for me or I’d never get inside you…” 

He pulled back just a little, his thumb finding your clit and pressing into you there, working you in a slow circle. He thrust back into you, a little further this time. 

“You get this soft and hot and wet for anyone else?” He asked, a possessive edge to his voice as his eyes ranged over your naked body. “Or you save that just for me?” 

“Just for you,” you didn’t care that you sounded desperate and pathetic. You just needed him inside of you, filling you totally. “It’s all for you, I’ve always been all for you.” 

“You all mine, Baby?” He asked, pulling back and thrusting deeper. “This little pussy all mine?” 

“Yes,” you rocked your hips up against him but he pressed down on you, holding you in place and making you whimper. “Fuck, please…” 

“How about the rest of you?” He asked, his hand leaving your clit as he lowered himself onto you. His skin was on yours, the plush swell of his stomach against you, his chest tight to your own. His hand came up to brush your hair back and cradle the crown of your head, his thumb tracing over you there. His eyes searched yours and, for the first time in years, you saw the Joel you’d fallen in love with so long ago. The quiet strength of him, the gentle care, the fierce love, the raw and aching whole of him there with nothing holding him back. “Want all of you, want that so much more than your perfect fuckin’ pussy…” 

“Joel…” 

“Say you’re mine,” he thrust deeper and you keened at the feel of him inside you, so close to having all of him within you where you’d known he belonged from the first time you’d taken him into yourself. “Tell me I’m not gonna lose you.” 

“You’re not going to lose me,” you breathed. “I promise, you can’t lose me.” 

He pulled back a little and you whimpered at the loss. 

“Say you’ll let me protect you,” he thrust in, almost to the root this time, and held himself there. Your channel tightened around him. 

“Joel,” you were having a hard time remembering how to say anything but his name, that single word the most vital one you’d ever known. “Please…” 

“Tell me,” he ground himself against you, his skin on your clit, his cock pressing into your most sensitive places. “Let me take care of you, protect you. Say it.” 

“You can protect me,” your hands found their way to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin there. “You can take care of me, I promise…” 

“Let me love you,” he pulled back again but it was his words and not how he was moving inside you that made you gasp. “Say it. Tell me I can love you, that it’s safe to love you.” 

You reached up and gently traced his hairline before threading your fingers through his curls, your eyes on his. 

“I haven’t been the one stopping you from loving me,” you whispered. 

“I never stopped,” he rocked himself part way into you again before pulling back. “Always loved you, always. But I need it to be safe, I can’t love you without it destroyin’ me if it’s not. Please, baby. Tell me. Tell me I can love you.” 

“You can love me, Joel,” you said softly. “It’s safe. I’m safe.” 

He kissed you, his mouth claiming yours and he pressed all the way inside you then, making your back arch and legs go tight around his hips. You moaned against his lips as he held himself deep within you for a moment before pulling back again. 

It might have been years but your body knew Joel’s. You knew just how to take him and he knew just how to make you come, his hips grinding down into you when he was fully seated inside of your tight channel, making his cock tease your most tender places while his hips worked your clit. He fucked you deep and hard and greedy, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he wanted to lay claim to all of you. 

The tight band of pleasure inside of you wound tighter and tighter until it snapped when he was pressed deep, your walls fluttering over him. He moaned against your lips and fucked you through it, never slowing, never letting up, making it so your orgasm never really subsided. It just rolled into building the next one until he pulled his desperate and needy mouth from yours. 

“Not gonna last, Baby,” he ground himself deeper, as if to make his point. “Where -” 

“Inside me,” you panted. “I need to feel you, please don’t leave, please, inside me, please…” 

He kissed you again, fucking you a little harder and faster, driving the band of pleasure tighter and higher until you felt him press deep and pulse inside you, triggering your next orgasm. 

You came with him, your pussy rippling over him as he throbbed, emptying himself into you. 

His body went slack for a moment before he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes returning to their normal color. They looked over your face for a moment before locking onto your own and you had a moment of fear that the walls would go up again. That the cold, disconnected Joel who had taken over since he’d come to the QZ would be back. But his eyes stayed soft and open and warm, his large palm still cradling the top of your head. 

“Tell me you meant all that,” you whispered even though you were afraid of what the answer was. 

“Oh, Baby.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead before trailing his nose over your own. “I meant every word. I promise.” 

You smiled, looking into Joel’s eyes and realizing that, even though you were still stuck inside the QZ, you were right where you belonged. 

[endataraxia]

sage forest mental institution.

chapter 2: live, and upon the rest rains death. word count: 2.3k also on AO3. here is the link.

Toby is barely even a man, having just left boyhood, with a kill count too large for even his master to keep track of.

In his hands, only just having shed his childhood’s fat, yet callused and worn from wielding weapons, he holds a syringe. Over his head looms his master, grumbling, pleased. He’s reached the point of obeying without question. The point of needing only a glance at his master and being able to discern his intentions. The point of retrieving the tranquilizer syringe, fingers brushing the pallid palm of his master’s hand, free hand simultaneously reaching for the button to call you. 

His dead expression lightens into one of an innocent boy’s, pulling his childhood exterior back up over his head. He doesn’t remember, not one bit, of who or what he was, and yet the muscles in his face pull his features back into place, back into the mold of his childhood body. 

His master vanishes as you enter the room, bright and sunny and full of the outside world’s essence. 

Calculated, the voice of a little boy leaves his lips. Words calculated, pauses, syllables, intonation, everything is calculated. His master desires, and so his master will have. 

The boy, the man, plunges the syringe in without a second thought, through the window between your hairs and your uniform, and pushes, liquid entering your bloodstream–oh, he can almost feel it flow through it himself.

And as he stands over your seemingly lifeless body, he almost desires you for himself. To grab you and run, away from his stupid colleagues, far beyond his master’s gaze, in the shadows. To have you for himself. 

You are beautiful.

“No, Toby, stupid Toby,” he scolds, hitting his own head with his fists, more of an echo of the past he can’t remember, the pain he can’t feel. But even he knows now is not the time to dilly-dally. 

He exhales forcefully. Rips the bandage off his cheek, restriction now gone. Unhinges his jaw, feels the skin and flesh tearing apart ever so slightly. Realizes how restricted the bandage does cause him to feel, and how he is now free.  

Air escapes from the thin gap between his lips, rhythmically. He chuckles, then laughs, for the first time in ages. He reaches down, still smiling, and slings your body over his shoulder. Nods once at the camera in the top corner of his room, and it blinks once in response. The door clicks unlocked, and he pushes it open to greet the new day of bloodshed.

“Took you long enough,” scoffs Tim, who takes note of the clear absence of a bandage on Toby’s cheek. “What, couldn’t just rip off the band-aid?”

“I don’t feel pain,” Toby mumbles. 

“Enough time wasted,” comes Brian’s voice from behind his frowny-faced mask. “Let’s go.” Tim snorts and places his own mask upon his face, the fit snug.

An elf bearing shocking resemblance to Link from The Legend of Zelda pops out from the camera in the hallway, dumping Toby’s things onto the ground. “Go time, go time,” snickers the elf. “Special delivery for one Tobias Rogers.”

Toby growls lowly at the mention of his full name and swipes at the elf, but the latter is quick enough to disappear back into the camera. Begrudgingly, he transfers your body to Brian’s shoulder, and speedily changes into his gear.

Mouthguard on, goggles on, hatchets in hand.

Brian returns your body to him, and strangely he feels relieved. “Go time. Master needs some extra food this time, so…”

Slaughter, massacre, and blood everywhere. 

Souls rise from the corpses,  into the monster’s gaping maw.

--

“Wakey wakey, sunshine!” Chirps a cheerful voice.

You wonder who said that. Did you fall asleep at work? 

No.

Thud. You remember now.

Your head hurts. “Ow,” you mutter as you crack your eyes open for the buzzing fluorescent lights to penetrate your retinas.

Except they don’t. The room is dim. Curtains. A dark ceiling, and a simple door to your southeast. 

And orange goggles, familiar brown eyes peeking through. And on the figure’s mouth…is that their teeth peeking through from the side of their cheek?

You scream and jerk upwards into a sitting position, immediately noting the softness of the surface you’re on and the restriction of your legs’ movements by a blanket. A bed? Why are you in an unknown room in a bed? 

“Woah, hey, hey, calm down, we’re not here to hurt you!” The same voice yelps, hands out in front of them, a poor attempt to calm you down. Toby. The same voice that asked you stupid questions and made stupid requests.

“Toby!” You exclaim. Then the gravity of the situation hits you. “What on God’s green earth–did you fucking kidnap me, Toby?”

Toby “erms” and “uh”s.

“Answer me, Toby,” your voice trembles, somewhere in between a seething rage and a beg for answers.

“I’ll, um. Uh! Haha.” He scratches his head. “I’ll let Brian answer!”

Brian is in on it too. How fucking wonderful. Absolutely marvelous, in fact. 

“BRIAN!” Hollers Toby, which startles you. No response from the former. 

Then, footsteps. Heavy. Up something creaky, perhaps stairs.

Now clothed in a bright yellow hoodie, Brian peeks in through the gap in the door. His eyes flit to Toby, then to you. “You’re awake.”

“Fucking astute, Brian,” you spit. “Why, I should sock you all in the face right about now.” Your wrists register the clear absence of ropes, or some form of binding. “But seeing as I’m not restrained right now, I’ll give you five seconds to explain what the FUCK went on in your heads. Now.”

Toby flails around, perhaps in a panic to answer within a literal five-second timespan. Brian holds a hand up to him, then opens the door. “Please, feel free.”

Your heart falls off the Grand Canyon into your stomach. “What.”

He opens the door, wider than before, with an ear-piercing creak. “Feel free, Y/N. I believe this will give you some clarity.”

This has absolutely got to be a joke, but you bolt anyways. The sheer strength in your legs startle you as they propel you off the bed, past Toby and Brian, down the stairs, down the hall, and you don’t know where you’re going. By some miracle, you make it to the front door without any sense of the house’s layout—where did they get the money for actual real estate property?--and heave it open, revealing…

Nothing. A grand sum of nothing but tall, skinny trees and grass. A forest.

I can’t afford to lose any more time. Maybe these lunatics will change their mind.

So you run, and you run and you run, lungs screaming for air, your muscles screeching for oxygen, burning from lactic acid. Past the trees, all a blur, past whatever the fuck is in this damned forest. 

You have to get back to civilization.

You almost sob in relief as you approach a large cabin after god-knows-how-long of running, so you get up on the porch and bang on the door. “Help!” You cry. “Help! I need help, please, help me!”

The door opens with a scarily familiar creak. Tim. 

“Tim?” Your eyebrows raise on their own. “Tim, what are you–”

You don’t finish your question. Toby’s head peeks over the man’s shoulder.

Fuck, I definitely ran in a circle.

You barely have any strength, but you do an exact 180-degree turn and sprint. 

And you see the same cabin. The same wood, the same shitty architecture of the building, but the back of it. 

What the fuck.

A 90-degree turn it is.

Barely a minute passes until you run onto the same porch again. 

Your lungs heave. Your legs are on fire. And so are your eyes, and your cheeks warm with a familiar salty liquid. Collapsing onto the dusty wooden flooring, you let yourself break down. What’s happening? Why is this happening?

Through the cloudiness of your tears, you make out a pair of black shoes. Leather, and polished to a shine. 

You lunge backwards as best as your burning legs will propel you in a kneeling position, and your head snaps up to meet their face.

They have no face. HE has no face. 

White, ghastly skin, with indents and bumps for facial features. As you open your mouth to scream, though your vocal cords may not allow you to, hands grab ahold of your skull. You don’t recognize the scream you hear, but your throat hurts, and you conclude that it must be your own. 

But oh, the emotions you’re feeling. Is this love? Care, compassion. For whom?

For my servants. The words, weighed by gravitas, force their way into your head. 

Servants?

Treat them.

Abhorrence. An abhorrence so powerful you feel your hand fly to your mouth, and warm liquids flowing through the gaps in your fingers, down the gap between your palm and your chin. Are you throwing up? But oh, why did you ever try to run away? Why would you ever leave your patients? 

Work is stressful. The pay is shit. The world is insufferable, the doctors at work even more so. How the world had hurt you. How deep the scars it left are. Your parents, they were good for nothing. Your memories fly through your head, comically akin to a video tape. Nothing you see is good. All of it, horrific. 

The buzzing in your head that you never notice finally lifts. And you hear a foreign sobbing, coming right out of your vomit-stained mouth. 

The last thing you remember through your blurry vision is clinging onto a man’s neck, one who smells suspiciously like Tim, a flash of yellow, and the chattering of someone else’s voice, choppy words that you barely-register.

--

The same figure appears in your fevered dreams. You squirm and you writhe, cold sweat dripping down your temples and cheeks, but you’re unsure if that’s within the dream or with your real body. But the lines between waking and sleeping blur, and you wonder if this is the sleep paralysis that some patients mention, and for a brief moment you irrationally wonder if you’re becoming criminally insane too. 

Static numbs and blurs your thoughts, engulfing them with foreign obsessions and compulsions. They’re unclear at first, but your brain seems to still be somewhat functioning as it deciphers the strange intrusive thoughts for you.  

They are ill. They are in need of treatment. Only you can provide that.

“I don’t want to.”

Your throat burns, and you spring up, darting to something, anything, and hurl. When you come to, you’re stooped over the porcelain of a toilet bowl. 

Something looms behind you.

--

Since then, every time you have tried to rebel against these strange compulsions that came to you every five minutes, you’ve either thrown up, passed out, or found yourself before the toilet bowl, dry heaving. 

You’ve taken the last remaining room in the shithole of a house. “It’s never been there before,” Toby had pointed out. Strange. Then he added, “You can have it.” As you peeked into the room, you found that it bore a horrifying resemblance of your old, childhood room.

And now, you stare down the horrifying face of a pale, nearly white-skinned man with long hair dark as ebony, unnerving, unblinking eyes, and a smile carved into his face. 

He stares you down, too. Raises a hand, and, as if prevented from hitting you by some invisible force, recoils, and crumples to the ground.

That same compulsion takes over your skull. Without thinking, the words fall from your mouth. “Hey, are you okay?” Your hand appears before you, outstretched to the man.

He swats it away forcefully, jet black irises glaring back at you. You stare into the abyss, and it stares back at you. You’re nearly lost in there, till he gets up shakily and mutters a weak “Fuck off,” then trudges away.

He’s a weird guy, but something tells you that you’ll see more of him later on.

Just as he disappears from your sight, your stomach rumbles at an embarrassing volume. Shit. Have you even eaten in the past 24 hours, not including the time you spent passed out?

Wandering around an unfamiliar house isn’t one of your usual pastimes, but when necessary, apparently it is. You scour the rooms for something remotely akin to a pantry, until you come across a kitchen with a refrigerator. Oh, how many things it must hold, the treasure chest of solutions to your problems.

You open its door, and– nothing. Nothing in the cooling section. 

Sighing, you close the door and open the freezer section, and you’re met with a ton of red meat. Beef, perhaps? Just as you lean in to take a closer look, the door slams close.

You whip around, and your eyes are met with black.

No, not black, exactly, but black cotton in the shape of a hoodie. A very, very large hoodie. Your eyes trail upwards, and the cavity they meet reminds you of the eyes of the strange, pale man from before. Except this time, they leak a strange dark liquid over a dark gray surface. Skin. The monster’s (?) features are inhuman, with sharp shark-like teeth bared at you, darker gray lips drawn back to reveal a snarl. 

“You shouldn’t be snooping around in there,” rumbles a deep voice, deeper than that of the strange faceless man’s. The figure towers over you, eyes or lack thereof staring into your soul. You wonder what kind of expression you might be making right about now, but it seems that it’s exactly what causes the figure to draw back. 

“Sorry,” it mutters. “Just don’t do it again.”

In a daze, you walk away to the sound of human organs being devoured– that’s what you realize they are, in hindsight, in the fog of your dissociation.

He’s probably not human. They’re all murderers. HE is not human, and you’re in danger.

[mrsstarkey1]

mastermind - drew starkey

SUMMARY: requested by @willowpains - could I request a drew blurb with cast mate reader based on the Taylor song mastermind?

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNINGS: none

“Alright, I’m here,” you spoke into your phone quietly, shifting through the crowd of guests to get to the restroom.

“You’re sure he’ll be there?” Madeline asked you, no doubt biting her nails in anticipation to see how your plan played out.

“Absolutely,” you said with a small smirk. You let the bathroom door close before bending down to check for any other people in the restroom. You let yourself breathe when you found no occupants of the stalls.

“Where are you right now?” Madeline asked.

“In the bathroom,” you said, walking over to the mirror, giving yourself an in-depth look. You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the countertop by the sink.

“You can’t hide in the bathroom the whole time,” Madeline said.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m just making sure I look good. I can’t run into him as soon as he gets here anyways. Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” you reminded her with a small proud smile.

Madeline chuckled, “you’re right, sorry, I always forget that you’re practically a criminal mastermind. I mean seriously, how do you come up with this stuff?”

The bathroom door swung open, two ladies walking in. You gave them a friendly smile, and picked up your phone, “gotta go Mads, I’ll keep you updated.”

You adjusted the fabric of your dress one last time, mentally thanking yourself for picking the red one. Once satisfied with your appearance, you slipped your phone into your purse, and exited the bathroom.

Your eyes scanned the large room, almost immediately finding who you were looking for. Drew was dressed in a dark blue suit, that you were almost positive he’d taken from Rafe’s wardrobe. His skin was tan, much like yours, as you were just filming in the scorching sun not three days ago. You kept your eyes on him as he spoke to the guy next to him, moving cautiously closer to him while he was distracted.

You placed yourself between two people at the bar, about 4 people away from where Drew was standing.

“Vodka lemonade please,” you asked the bartender with a smile.

As soon as Drew looked to his right, he undoubtedly would see you as you innocently sipped your drink. All you had to do was wait, and make meaningless small talk with the stranger beside you.

No more than five minutes later, you felt a hand on the fabric covered part of your shoulder. “y/n?” you heard a familiar voice behind you. Your lips twitched into a smirk, and strategically changed into a shocked smile when you turned to face him. “What are you doing here?” Drew asked you, eyes trailing down your body unwillingly. He’d never seen you in a dress, so he couldn’t help himself. Exactly as you intended.

“Oh I know Melonie and she invited me last minute,” you waved off. You didn’t know Melonie. “What about you?”

“My buddy Brian invited me and I didn’t really have much else to do,” he said with a shrug. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he added with a wide smile, one that you hadn’t seen when he was speaking to his buddy Brian.

You smiled back at him, “I know, such a small world. We haven’t really seen each other much outside of set, have we?” you said as if it was the first time you’d had the thought.

Drew thought for a moment, “no we really haven’t.” A small smile played at his lips when he thought over his next words. “Seems like the universe has given us a chance to change that, eh?”

Your face flushed red and you let yourself smile, “I guess it has.”

You spoke at the bar for the better half of the night, only reminded that there were other people around you when the man playing the music had announced the last slow dance.

Your eyes met Drew’s as the music began to play, a question twinkling in Drew’s eyes. He took a couple steps toward the open area where couples had made their way to. You glanced down at his hand that was held out to you, waiting to be accepted, “shall we?”

You placed your hand in his, and God, if only you could put the feeling you got into words. If the red tint on Drew’s face and the smile on his lips was any indication, he felt it too.

You let Drew guide you to the dance floor, giddy smiles on both of your faces. Drew’s hands rested on your hips, and you placed yours around his neck comfortably. “You look gorgeous, y/n,” Drew spoke softly, eyes fixed on yours, “I should have said that earlier,” he added.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Drew,” you returned the compliment, an ear-to-ear smile on your face.

You leaned in to rest the side of your head on his shoulder, swaying to the song you’d requested at the beginning of the night.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“You’re positive you want to meet my parents?” you asked Drew, giving him one final chance to opt out.

Drew gave you a look from the driver's seat, “well we’ve already driven 3 hours, so it might be a little late to change my mind,” he said with a grin, keeping his eyes on you for a moment. “Of course I want to meet them,” he added more seriously. “We’ve been dating for 6 months, it’s time I met the people who raised my favorite person in the world," he said sweetly, reaching over and placing his hand on your thigh comfortingly.

You let yourself relax, feeling slightly less nervous now. It was still terrifying though, Drew meeting your parents. They could be... difficult at times.

You made it to your hotel a little less than an hour before you had to be at dinner. You freshened up in the bathroom while Drew sat on the bed watching the TV.

“Almost ready, baby? We should get going,” Drew called out, standing up to get his shoes on.

You came out of the bathroom with a sigh, “I guess.”

Drew moved to you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you in for a hug. “It’s going to be fine y/n. They’re gonna love me. I mean, what’s not to love about me?” he said into your hair.

You chuckled, shaking your head into his shoulder. “Nothing, you’re perfect. My parents are just protective, you know?”

Drew ran his hand up and down your back soothingly, “I get it. But I’ll work my charm on them and it’ll all work out,” he said confidently.

You chose to believe him, and you mustered up the courage to leave the hotel room, hand in hand with Drew.

You made it to the restaurant a couple minutes before the designated time, but you could already see your parents sitting at a table. “Oh God, they’re here,” you muttered into Drew’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath.

Drew’s arm tightened around your waist, “It’s gonna be fine, alright?” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head.

You made your way over to the table, hand tightly wrapped around Drew’s. Your moms face lit up when she saw you, and she stood up to greet you immediately. You hesitatingly dropped Drew’s hand, letting your mom pull you in for a short hug, then your dad. You watched as your parents shifted over to Drew, silently praying that they behaved themselves.

“You must be Drew,” you father said, holding out his hand for a firm handshake.

Drew nodded his head curtly, a smile plastered on his face, “Mr. y/l/n,” he turned to your mom, “Mrs. y/l/n, it’s lovely to finally meet you both.”

You watched your parents exchange a look, and then smiles appear on both of their faces. Your mom pulled Drew in for a hug, and your mouth nearly dropped to the floor.

You composed yourself when Drew and your parents sat down at the table with you. “I’m so glad you two could finally come to see us,” your mom said, reaching across the table to grab your hand.

You were shocked, to say the least to witness this behavior from your parents. They were being genuinely nice. Maybe it was because it had been so long since you’d seen them?

You came out of your trance and smiled sweetly at your mom, “sorry it took so long.”

You all ordered your food, and fell into a comfortable conversation.

“So you guys had worked together for a while before you started dating, what changed?” your mom asked the two of you.

Your lips twitched into a smile as you remembered the night that changed your friendship with Drew into something much more.

You let Drew tell your parents the story while you reminisced about your greatest achievement; your most elaborate master plan.

"...it really was fate that y/n was there that night," Drew finished the story with a twinkle in his eyes.

Your mom grinned, looking between the two of you, “what a lovely story,” she said truthfully. “You’re sure it was fate? She’s always been a tricky one, that y/n,” she added, and you gave her a warning look. “Always gets what she wants,” she said with a small smirk, taking a bite of her steak.

Drew chuckled, locking eyes with you and raising his eyebrows.

“Come on Mom, don’t make me seem crazy,” you joked with a dismissive wave of your hand, “speaking of crazy, how’s aunt Jen?”

The rest of the dinner went much better than you could have ever expected. By the time your father had paid the bill, you felt like Drew and your parents got along even better than you got along with him. You'd take that over them not getting along any day.

You hugged your mom and dad goodbye, "it was great to see you guys."

"You too, sweetie," your mom said with a smile, turning to Drew. "It was great getting to know you, Drew. I sure am glad that fate brought you and my daughter together," she said, looking back at you and offering a not-so-sly wink.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Drew asked you, once you’d made it to your hotel for the night.

You shook your head admittedly, taking your earrings out and placing them on the dresser, “they were like completely different people, Drew, I swear. They are never that welcoming to my boyfriends.”

Drew laid down on the bed with a sigh, a proud smile on his lips, “I’m not just any boyfriend, y/n.” He held out his arms for you to join him on the bed. You complied, rolling over his body onto the space beside him, lying halfway on his body.

You wrapped your arm around his middle, resting your head on his chest. You lied there for awhile, becoming nearly relaxed enough to fall asleep as Drew rubbed your back.

“Hey Drew,” you said, unable to stop yourself.

“Hm?”

“Remember my mom said at dinner, about the night we became more than friends?” you asked him, tilting your head up slightly to look at him.

“Mhm, I remember. Why do you ask?” he asked you.

“She was right,” you said softly, meeting his eyes, hesitantly awaiting a reaction.

Drew’s expression changed into a wide smirk, eyes twinkling with a familiar look of admiration, “I know,” he whispered.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “what?” you breathed out, eyes scanning his face to see if he was telling the truth.

“I knew the whole time, baby,” he said, a satisfied smile plastered on his face, pulling you back down to lay on his chest. “It’s why I love you, my little mastermind,” he whispered into your hair.

taglist: @rafes-bae @willowpains

REQUESTS OPEN

check out my obx masterlist || taylor song fics masterlist

if u follow me & reblog my posts i’ll do the same for u !!

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

angsty hcs?

I hope that breaking up headcannons are angsty enough! The ask wasn’t super specific and I had a hard time coming up with stuff so this’ll have to do.

CREEPS BREAKING UP HEADCANNONS

JEFF THE KILLER

He looked at you like you were absolutely stupid when you said those words

“I want to break up.”

You want to what?

No.

He laughs in your face.

No. Absolutely not.

He’s not letting you go now that you’re his! Now that he’s gotten what he wanted.

Jeff would lock you away. Telling you to think about your decision more thoroughly, just so you can make a good final choice. Making sure to emphasize the word final.

Regardless of what you chose, you’d still be staying with him. He wouldn’t change how he acted at all either. You’re his whether you liked it or not.

EYELESS JACK

He just stood there silently

Huh? He thought things were going well between you two…

He gave you anything you could possibly want, why would you want to leave him?

It hurt his feelings to know you didn’t want him after all he’s done for you

He protected you against all the creeps and their… Creepy… Advances.

If he figured out it was because you liked someone else, he’d bring you their heart on a platter. If you wanted it so bad, there it is.

TIM/MASKY:

Another to laugh.

He thought you were joking!

“Tim I’m serious… I don’t want this anymore…”

Only when you said that did his smile drop.

You can’t leave him like everyone else did…

He wouldn’t be able to see straight. He’d fall into an episode, dragging you up to his room and locking you there. He needs you. You’re the last person left.

BRIAN/HOODIE:

Another creep who stands in silence. You feel his eyes burn holes into you.

He’ll give you a kiss on the forehead, lifting his mask up only half way to do so before opening the front door for you

You’re surprised he let you go so easily after all the work he put into keeping you here

You hesitantly walk out the door, sprinting when you get outside

He lets you go, only for a little while. He’ll let you get just to the edge of the forest before he drags you right back.

It’s downright terrifying how quickly and quietly he can get to you. You’d never get away. You only got that far because he let you.

“TICCI” TOBY:

He’d either break down and cry or lose his goddamn mind

If it’s the first option then he’s 100% on his knees, grabbing desperately to your pants and begging you to stay.

“Please! P-Please… I need you Y/N! I c-can’t live without you!”

If it’s the second option… Uh oh…

He’s chasing you around the house, hatchet in hand, screaming about how you could even think about leaving him.

“You’ll never leave me!! N-never! You’re mine Y/N!! MINE!”

[neysaadept]

Prometheus Chapter 13

Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader

Chapter 13 - Chasing After You

Tags: Swearing, canon typical violence, panic attack, drinking, mentions of grooming, drugs, arson, juvenile detention, breast mutilation, incest, and underage prostitution. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 7.5k

AO3

… Desperate for changing Starving for truth I'm closer to where I started I'm chasing after you

Hanging by a Moment - Lifehouse

You haven’t changed out of your sleep clothes or done your morning routine as you sit on the edge of the bed next to the open black duffel bag on Saturday morning. There is a navy-blue sweatshirt sleeve hanging off the side with drumsticks peeking out. Everything else was safely nestled inside except for the phone in your hand that you were staring at as if willing the device to magically alert you to a response about your text message.

Alpha sent 0534: I think I’m fucked.

You couldn’t talk to anyone at the BAU about your hot and cold relationship with Emily because it would get back to her for sure. The team sucks at keeping personal secrets that don’t affect national security or involving a case. Rebecca wasn’t an option either. She may have been your partner in crime with the fake dating prank, but she’s with Tara and that goes back to the first group of individuals you’re trying to keep this from. Brian was out. No way were you going to drop this bombshell after decades of being a lone wolf of you willingly flirting with the section chief and it being clear that awkward night was affecting your working relationship. He already has his suspicions on your drunken behavior because you are the master of not letting your guard down. And you did.

“Come on,” you urge down at your phone and look at the time shift to 0559.

You’re about to give up when the chime went off that you received a message. Eagerly, you open the message and smile.

Charlie sent 0559: And what did we do this time? 😊

Alpha sent 0603: You promise to not tease me?

Charlie sent 0604: I can make no promises, love.

Alpha sent 0604: 😡

Alpha sent 0605: PLEASE

Charlie sent 0605: Wow. This IS serious. What is going on?

Charlie sent 0605: And if it is something with the mission Brian got your back.

Alpha sent 0606: Not about current assignment.

Charlie sent 0607: 😮

Charlie sent 0607: OK that is a first.

Charlie sent 0607: What is wrong? How can I help?

You pause typing there because now comes the hard part – admitting you are capable of having amorous feelings towards another woman. You press your lips tightly together and fumble with the keypad, typing and deleting your message several times. Then you hang your head when you finally send it with a fiercely beating heart full of fright.

Alpha sent 0612: I really like someone. A lot.

The phone immediately rings and you laugh because it was expected. You answer it while scooting back against the headboard with your legs stretched outwards. You had been hunched over for so long your muscles were screaming in stiffness which makes you grunt against the receiver.

“Woman you tell me everything right now because I am not believing you!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, overwhelmed at admitting this. “Comes as a big fucking surprise to me, too.” You narrow your eyes. “Do you know what I’m doing now?”

“Clearly not the woman that stole your heart.”

You blush hotly and cover your face. “Dude, just … just stop.”

She cackles over the phone. “I have to tease my baby sister that she has a crush.”

“Oh my god, I am not twelve. Stop talking like I’m a child.” But that made you glower into your lap, bringing your mind back to the argument with Prentiss.

“Ouch. That hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s not you. It’s the whole fucking situation.”

“Okay. So, fill me in. And no, Brian hasn’t told me or Echo anything about what you’ve been up to.”

You fill her in on everything regarding Rebecca Wilson’s big favor, working with the BAU as a consultant, the stipend, and all about Section Chief Emily Prentiss. The first rocky week of your partnership, drinks at Buddy’s, making amends with a desk, Diet Coke, and working assignments together. Then you go into explicit details of Emily coming to your unit and collecting you for a girl’s night, the drunken ride home, and the inexplicable attraction that kept you standing there helpless before forcing yourself to move towards your building. And, of course, yesterday’s fight.

“Wow,” she says in amazement, but joy is heard there, too. “I never thought I’d live to see this day.”

“You’re not kidding.” You sigh into the receiver. “It’s so easy. Working with Emily. Being around Emily. It was nice, too. Finding that with someone outside of the fucking CIA and our little group,” you confess soberly. “Then it all got ruined because I’m a dumbass.”

“You’re not a dumbass for having feelings.”

“Yes, I am. I’m not supposed to have them because I’m incapable of having them. And now they’ve fucked up my friendship with her because now I have them. Which only furthers proves I’m a fucking idiot.” You slam your fist against the bedspread and growl in frustration at yourself. “She completely hates me now.”

“You’re only human. And honestly? This just shows how far you’ve come. And no, I sincerely doubt she hates you. You said the fight didn’t escalate like before, right?”

You bounce your head against the headboard lightly in rhythm to think and then stop when you speak up again. “No. It was … rather tame considering.”

“Right. So obviously she isn’t that upset.”

“Then I made her uncomfortable.”

“You made the Emily Prentiss uncomfortable? Girl, get over yourself.” She laughs and you can’t help joining in.

“Okay, point. But she’s obviously affected by what I said without directly coming out and saying it.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And, what?” you ask, puzzled.

“Fucking go talk to her.”

You freeze, feeling all the blood drain from your face and speak with a shaky face. “Uh, yeah. No. Can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“Because I’m always gonna be two triggers away from becoming a sociopath and she doesn’t need someone like me in her life!” you yell, white knuckling the phone.

“Oh, sweetie. We’re all wired this way. I bet Prentiss is, too. Some just got it worse than others, like you, but even we deserve happiness. You’re long overdue for some.”

She waits for you to get ahold of your ragged breathing that she hears pounding against the other end. You put the phone down and collect yourself, running a hand through your hair and realize that your once comfortable position sitting against the headboard had become you hugging knees to your chest. You roll your head back and forth and begin the familiar pattern of breathing and holding your breaths in fours. With each successful round of grounding, your limbs loosen and fall to the bed. Your neck cracks and stretches the tension away until finally, tight shoulders drop.

You’re back and you bring the phone to your ear knowing Charlie is waiting for you.

“Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now let’s start over and talk about why you deserve this chance and then you can see how you feel about it and make a decision.”

“Damn it,” mutters Rebecca looking at her phone. She’s cozied up against Tara’s side on the couch at her girlfriend’s home.

They wanted to have a quiet night in, but the two of them thought it would a good idea to invite you over to join them. Also, Rebecca hadn’t had a chance to see you since the dinner awhile back and she was missing you. They were waiting for your response but had started on the wine without you.

Tara looked up to respond with a questioning gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“She said no,” Rebecca responded frumpily and tossed her phone down by the furthest cushion. “I really thought she’d come.”

“I’m not,” Tara states emphatically without thinking before taking a sip from the wine glass. They had chosen a cabernet sauvignon to have while watching the movie Till, and the bottle was ready for refills on the coffee table.

Rebecca’s head snaps at Tara with much curiosity. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Tara stopped in mid-sip realizing she was in trouble. “Uh …”

“Don’t uuuuuh me.” She pries the drink from Tara’s hand and sets in on the table. “What’s going on with her that I don’t know because last time I remember, I was her friend first. Which means, I’m on a need to know basis on what you clowns at the BAU have done to her.”

“Hey! What makes you think it’s us?” Tara declared with a tinge of hurt.

“Who else could it be?” she retorts with confidence and goes into lawyer mode. “The only variable that’s changed with her since I’ve known her is working as an FBI consultant with the BAU. And I know your track record with drama. So, please tell the jury who else has upset Agent Whitlock. And remember,” she pauses to bop Tara’s nose with a fingertip, “you’re under oath.”

Tara playfully tries to bite Rebecca’s finger as she pulls away which makes them smile adoringly towards one another. It makes Tara sigh with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not technically the BAU.”

Rebecca raises an unamused brow, but Tara holds up a hand to halt the retort. “I’m serious.” She rocks her head back and forth on how to phrase this. “It’s really just the … section chief of the BAU.”

That makes her brows furrow in defensiveness. “What the hell did Prentiss do?”

Tara leans with a huff. “It’s a long story.”

She takes the remote and pauses the movie. “Girl, I’ve got all night for you to convince me not to tear Prentiss a new asshole. You better get talking.”

User45125 sent 0924: Before we get to that, need assurances. 

FlamePit23 sent 0945: Like what?

User45125 sent 0955: Need a favor done. And if done right, we can go ahead with your present.

FlamePit23 sent 0956: What kind of favor?

User45125 sent 0956: Not here. Want to talk. You game?

FlamePit23 sent 0957: I am.

User45125 sent 0959: Let me take care of some things on my end and I’ll let you know.

FlamePit23 sent 1000: Try not to have too much fun without me.

User45125 sent 1001: Wouldn’t think of it.

FlamePit23: sent 1002: Good. Talk soon.

This conversation happened during the day at the BAU where Prentiss and Garcia could watch the exchange in real time. Soon as you got the first text, you fired off one to Prentiss and Garcia to meet you in Penelope’s lair.

“Good work, my beloved cutie. You’ve gotten one step closer at snagging Spiderboy,” exclaims Penelope giving you a bright smile.

“Thanks.” You nod appreciatively. “Need to be careful though. He sniffs even an ounce of deceit; this plan is fucked.”

“Agreed.” Prentiss remains passive, focusing on the screen. You two haven’t shared a single word that wasn’t work related which was fine by you. “Let’s go over your cover.”

Penelope cracks her knuckles and brings up the digital creation for you. “Meet Nikole Wade – forty-three-year-old woman who barely graduated High School with a 2.0 GPA at Graves County in Mayfield, KY. She has a lovely rap sheet of violence and arson that has landed her in juvie several times because of her abusive father, Liam Wade. Thankfully he tragically died by slamming into a tree because he had a heart attack while driving his truck. Backstory, he was addicted to alcohol and cocaine. Mama Katie Wade in her infinite wisdom, thought she could groom her daughter for prostitution to pay the numerous bills. That’s when Nikole’s penchant for fire starting came to fruition and burned down the house, along with her mother. It was ruled an accident because mommy dearest had too much to drink and kept the stove on. Nikole ends up working a lot of retail jobs and is currently a cashier at the Food City grocery store in Gatlinburg, TN.”

“This fits with the whole nurturing angle that FlamePit23 has on her profile,” you continue. “And with a history like this, it explains her antisocial tendencies and denying friendships. We theorize by previous posts that the user came to this forum to gain new insights into what other arsonists are doing to keep their habits going without getting caught. Then ends up disgusted with how many wannabees there are playing pretend.”

“And this corroborates Green’s explanation of how Sicarius weeded through the users for those individuals that were legit. FlamePit being one of them,” Prentiss surmises.

“Exactly.” Penelope brings up a picture of you digitally altered to look like a teen during the juvie years of your story. “Isn’t she cute!”

Your head drops as you sigh. “You won’t let that go.”

“I will not. Not unless you show me an actual picture of teenage you to dispute your cuteness.”

“You know I can’t do that,” you plead while turning your head to look at her.

“Therefore, you are cute!” Penelope grins with a scrunched nose.

“Both of you focus,” Prentiss snaps, which got both of yours attention. And here you thought she would remain neutral but here comes bitch mode. “What have you done to make Sicarius believe this?”

Penelope’s wide eyes return to normal after being scolded. “Ah, well, the usual. High school records, a sealed juvenile record, uh … different places she’s worked, social security cards, birth certificates. A few police reports and articles about the crash and fire. If he somehow goes deeper than that, we’ll … we’re screwed.”

“But really, a person like Nikole Wade isn’t gonna have a lot to find since she’s kept to herself since becoming of age. I’ve already studied unsolved arsons in the Kentucky and Tennessee area that I can use for a resume in case he questions me,” you add. “Honestly, this is as good as it’s gonna get, Prentiss. Not unless you want me to do an entire photoshoot for new material.”

She heard the roughness in your tone in response to her impatience. She really couldn’t blame you and rises from her seat. “Alright. Let me know when he schedules the call. Until then, I’ll be in my office.”

“Oh, okay, Emily …” Penelope starts talking but Prentiss already was on the move and didn’t make eye contact with either of you. The door closes and she ends up waving to the door. “Bye!”

You roll your eyes at Prentiss’ childish behavior. “Anyway, I should probably get back to my desk since we’re good here.”

Penelope wants to say something so bad, but she can’t. She just can’t! No matter how much she wants to interfere and smack yours and Emily’s heads together to get a clue. Her, Tara and JJ all promised to not tell you anything.

So instead, she nods with agreement. “Yep! Those nasty reports can’t write themselves.”

Two days and there was no further contact from Sicarius, thus the BAU was business as usual writing up reports, analyzing data, and piecing together information to connect the victims in the shipping container to the missing persons. Tara has provided closure to three families. Penelope has made your cover identity as airtight as she possible can with the cyber crime division and what made Prentiss exceptionally happy? That Bailey had nothing to say about any of their work because the expenses were paid for and Director Korogoth’s glowing report of the BAU’s work in Idaho with your expertise made the AG extremely happy. She saw the benefit of Rebecca’s involvement of you, which also made Director Madison happy. The BAU was coming out ahead all thanks to collaborative efforts of you and the BAU.

What personally sucked was the lack of resolution between the two of you. She hadn’t even devised a solution to the problem she, once again, created so the only option was to avoid anything social with you. Admittedly her anxiety over the situation spilled over to impatience with snappish responses to any frivolity in the unit. At least she was consistently bitchy instead of her previous singular agenda against you. What weighed on her mind were things growing more awkward as she dragged out clearing the air with you.

“Hey, Em? Got a sec?”

She looks up from the opened file from New Mexico to address JJ. “Yeah. Come on in.”

JJ closes the door which puts Emily on alert. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, that depends.” JJ takes a seat across from Emily with purpose.

Emily speaks cautiously. “Oh what …”

“On why you haven’t talked with Whitlock yet,” she accuses.

She closed the file forcefully and was defiant. “JJ, I’m in no mood for this right now.”

JJ’s brows raise in disagreement. “Ah, well. Guess what? We’re talking because your mood sucks around here and it’s getting really old, really quick.”

“Are you seriously reprimanding me?” Emily challenged.

“Ah, yeah. Clearly, I am.” She frowns. “You need to talk to someone about it. Why not me?”

Emily starts to respond but doesn’t know how to start, leaving her mouth hanging open. JJ is patient since she sees that she is trying.

“You were right, JJ,” she admits with a long face. “I fucked up.”

“How did you fuck up?” she probed gently.

“Nina … is her mandated psychiatrist.”

Blue eyes look hard at Emily to interpret why this news unsettled her. All of them had mandated therapy sessions at several points in their careers, and now she knew who Nina was. Which wasn’t a woman in competition with her for your affections. “Okay. How is this bad?”

Emily licks her upper teeth as if there was a bad taste in her mouth before holding JJ’s gaze. “Because … I didn’t do as you suggested. And because of that we had another disagreement here in my office. Oh, stop that!” Emily scolds JJ dubious look. “It wasn’t like before. Tempers weren’t so heightened. But …”

JJ leaned in closer waiting for a continuation that never comes. She speaks up, coaxing her friend to keep going. “But what, Emily?”

With a sigh, Emily shrinks back into her chair to avoid eye contact. “Because I didn’t ask her who Nina was like you suggested. Instead, I learned it because she took a call from Nina.”

JJ winces. “Ouch.”

She points emphatically to her. “Exactly.”

“Well, it’s still salvageable,” JJ suggests furrowing her brows with concentration.

“I’ve messed up twice, JJ.” She holds up two fingers for emphasis. “Twice. I’m not willing to gamble the third times the charm.”

“Okay, if you want to be technical, you’ve already messed up three times if you could the first week you worked together with her,” offers JJ with a glint in her eyes. “So, fourth time’s the charm?”

Emily response was crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay, yeah. Not funny,” JJ agreed, but she wasn’t going to give up on Emily. “You’re gonna have to work together for awhile still. You might as well be honest and apologize to smooth things over.”

“She’s too smart to take just the apology, JJ. She’ll want a reason.”

JJ shrugs. “So, tell her the reason.”

“Tell her she hit on me in Russian?” she scoffs at that. “Like she’ll believe me. She obviously doesn’t remember what happened. And after my behavior, you really think she’ll take my word? Or hell, really anything I have to say?” She looks guilty at JJ. “I really laid into her about the last case. About her call in the field.”

JJ knows how ugly that can get and is sympathetic for you. “Remember what I said when we were discussing this before?”

“That I basically suck at relationships.”

“True, but you needing more information is what I was going for,” she reminds Emily. “I think that if you don’t resolve what is, and isn’t, going on with you and Whitlock, this is just gonna keep escalating further until you have a real blow up. Professionally, that won’t be good and could get someone seriously hurt … or killed.”

She nodded thoughtfully at that, knowing JJ was right. “And what about personally?”

“Oh, that’s simple.”

Emily looked at JJ who was sitting eagerly at the edge of the chair. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. I want you to be happy and I really think that if you clear up this misunderstanding, you’ll get that chance.”

The case officially came that evening once logistics were ironed out. Penelope sent out the ‘Avengers Assemble’ text to the team on Prentiss’ behalf and that night you took the jet to Albuquerque, NM. A series of disappearances occurred at different campsites where the victim’s cars were left at NomadLand and Enchanted Trails RV park. Word is the victims stopped there for directions and never made it back to their vehicles. Both families called in a missing person report. Two weeks later, a couple of dirt bike riders found the bodies of the missing women off an OHV* trail by Goose Lake. It was roughly a four-hour drive from Albuquerque. The bodies of the women were found naked with signs of sexual abuse and breast mutilation.

You, Rossi and Prentiss were working with Albuquerque detectives on the geographical profile and pouring over cases that may have been missed similar to the current one. Lewis was interviewing family and witnesses while Alvez and JJ were investigating the dump site and talking to the rider that found the bodies.

By the weekend you had the profile of a twenty to thirty-year-old male who not only wants power over his victims by assaulting them, but also expressing deeply rooted anger by disfiguring the victim’s breasts. It more than likely stems from psychology trauma inflicted upon his mother or another female authoritative figure. As the victims were both similar in appearance and age, they suspect a Hispanic unsub.

That brings you to Gabriel Arellano, a thirty-three year old out of Farmington, NM, a city three hours northwest of Santa Fe. He and his three brothers were raised by their single mother, Elisa Arellano. Several calls to CYFD* were made on the children’s behalf, due to Elisa’s drug and alcohol habits and eventually the children were taken away from her and they were put into the foster care system. Once Gabriel finished High School, he made it his mission to raise his siblings, but no one was aware of the sexual abuse his mother unleashed upon him when she was high and intoxicated.

That inner rage was tempered to protect his brothers, making sure that Elisa only abused him. By researching similar kidnappings, the BAU were able to determine that Gabriel’s killings started once his youngest brother, Ricardo, moved out of their shared apartment. Once alone, Gabriel no longer was focused with family obligations and was triggered by seeing a woman that resembled his mother at a construction job per Garcia’s digging. That disappearance happened six years ago. Paula Sanchez’s body was found outside of the Navajo Nation reservation, strangled, raped, and had bite marks on her breasts, focusing on the nipples. He has slowly escalated since.

State PD had issued an APB* on Arellano’s silver 2002 Dodge Charger as he was lying low since the news broke of his involvement. Law enforcement was confident he was still in state but had collaborated with surrounding states to monitor highways for people matching his description and vehicle.

After a lead on Arellano’s whereabouts turned up cold by a Circle K in Hatch, NM, you were driving back to the hotel in Albuquerque. The ride was under three hours and since it wasn’t hot this time of year, you had the window down enjoying the fresh air with classic rock playing. Prentiss was in the passenger seat checking her phone and Rossi was well aware of the tension between the two of you. Tension that had been building over the last week. Emily’s cold behavior had resurfaced after drinks last Friday night and was avoiding you at work as much as possible. Prior to that, the two of you had an easy working relationship and conversation. You sometimes took lunch together in Emily’s office. That came to a sudden halt on Monday.

He glances between the two of you and smiles. “Pretty chilly up front.”

You have your Ray-Ban’s on, so he didn’t notice you looking up at the rearview mirror. He has this knowing smirk on his face and your stomach sinks. You pray he says nothing. Emily doesn’t even acknowledge him.

“Alright. How about this.” He folds his hands atop his jacket. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you two?”

Prentiss keeps scrolling on her phone but not she’s on edge. Or at least was doing a good job pretending. You shrug. “I’d say I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about but clearly that won’t work.”

Rossi half smirks with a chuckle. “The trials and tribulations of working with profilers.”

Prentiss half snorts as you bit your lower lip in thought. You did not want to have this conversation right now with Rossi present. Or really, at all. You’re still mad at Emily.

He starts tapping his thumbs together thoughtfully as neither you or Prentiss comment further. “Come on, ladies. Something’s clearing bothering the two of you.” He pauses patiently. “What happened?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with Papa Rossi,” you dismiss with a half-smile that Prentiss catches.

“Oh, god. That was fucking terrible, Whitlock,” Emily noted with a huff.

Rossi was happy you two were talking but he didn’t understand what happened. “What was terrible?”

“Dave, seriously? You don’t hear it?” Emily says partially annoyed, but you note a hint of amusement.

He’s baffled. “Hear what?”

“Papa Rossi.” You say again and he looks blankly at you still not understanding the joke. “It’s like … paparazzi ya big fancy famous writer man.”

“Ooooh!” His head rocks back as he laughs just as a silver Dodge Camaro passes your SUV on the other side of the two-way highway.

You looked at Prentiss who was looking at you. Dave was laughing cluelessly. There was only one way to find out if this was your guy and that was to go after the driver. You share a nod with Prentiss and suddenly turn the SUV around for U-turn. This wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and purposefully go off roading for a second to even out the car so you don’t tip over. You thank fed tires for being strong enough to not get stuck in the sand.

“Whoa!” Dave exclaims while grabbing onto the headrest of the passenger seat and the door handle. “What the hell Whitlock?!”

“Camaro that matches the description of our unsub just drove past us,” informs Emily as you start back on the main road to catch up.

“On it,” says Rossi, making a call to the New Mexico State Police.

You work the controls under the automatic gear shift to put in a call to Penelope. The car was synched up to your phone by Bluetooth that was secured on a handsfree mount on the dashboard next to the dash camera.

Her face appears on screen. “Hello my lovelies. What’s up?”

Prentiss speaks up first. “Access the dash cam. We need to ID the car in front of us. Might be our unsub.” And as she finishes saying that the Camaro starts burning rubber and speeds off. “Which has now elevated to probably our unsub,” Prentiss updates.

“Doubt they’re running from a ticket,” Rossi says while announcing different markers on the side of the road so state troopers could intercept.

You hit the accelerator and chase after them. “I need real time reports of traffic. We haven’t seen much but in case this gets messy, I don’t want any civilian injuries.”

“Done and done! Oh yeah … uh, that’s our guy. Plate matches.”

Rossi takes over relaying that information. “We have confirmation that we’re in pursuit of the suspect’s vehicle. New Mexico Plate Tango Charlie One Eight Nine Nine.”

“Wait. You’re driving crazy with Dave in there?”

“Well, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask while Penelope brings real time traffic for you as requested on your display.

“Dave you be careful!”

“I’m the one driving, Pen. Shouldn’t you be telling me to be careful?”

“She’s saying I’m old and don’t have a heart attack,” he says for clarification.

“Don’t worry, Queen Penelope,” you say quickly as you close the distance going ninety and climbing. “I’ve got this.”

“Uh, Queen Penelope?”

You hear the guilt in her voice and call her out on it. “Yeah. Why’s that weird? You are the Black Queen.”

“Right! I’m the Black Queen, hence why you’re addressing me as my sovereign title.” And not because of the chat title she gave herself in the secret chat group she made to discuss two of her favorite people she was staring at during a high speed chase.

“Why you acting weird?” you ask, watching the display and the road ahead of you. There are miles of desert in this area and rest stops. So far, the lack of traffic is on your side.

“Why are you?” Penelope says defensively without meaning to.

“Yeah … no. We’re revisiting this later but right now I need to focus.” You cross the solid yellow line into the opposite lane.

“What are you doing?” Prentiss wonders cautiously.

“Gonna say hi.”

Even Rossi was dumbfounded by this. “Say … hi?”

“Yep.” You speed up and follow alongside the Camaro and see Gabriel is white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Well, that’s definitely our guy.” Prentiss confirms and Rossi relays that information to dispatch as well. What she wasn’t expecting is you waving at the suspect. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I told you; I wanted to say hi.” You see Gabriel meet your gaze and watch his brows raise above the sunglasses in what had to be shock. You then grab Prentiss’ lanyard and hold it up. “Tell him to pull over.”

“I just … I don’t even know what to think about you right now.” Prentiss is exasperated and snatches her ID back as Rossi busts out laughing. “Dave! This is not funny.”

“Actually, it’s quite hilarious and technically by the book.” Dave starts explaining to dispatch what was so funny and then frowns noticing movement in the car. “Oh, looks like he’s reaching for something.”

“Probably a gun,” sighs Prentiss. “It’s always a gun. They can never go quietly.”

“Yep, there it is,” you announce, seeing the flash of metal in the desert sun. “Just needed confirmation.” Then you hit the brakes to confuse Arellano and end up behind the vehicle once more.

Dave was hanging on to dear life and almost dropped his phone. “Warn me next time!”

“OH MY GOD YOU ALMOST KILLED DAVE!” Penelope shrieks over the connection.

“I’m not killing anyone! God. You all need to trust me that I know what I’m doing. And thanks for asking if me and Emily are okay, too,” you bark and straighten out the car.

You both zoom past a small gas station leaving a trail of dust behind and as far as you could tell, the road was continued to be clear, and police were still enroute. You had no visuals either way and it was time to change that. “Pen, we’re still alone out here, right?”

“Ah, yes. No civies and police are about ten minutes away from catching up.”

You surmise that if this goes the way it will, either troopers will open fire on the vehicle and end up killing Arellano, set up tire spikes and have you back off but that would alert him that something was up. You’re aggressively tailing him. There’s also the chance they’ll try and barricade him, and he’ll just slam through it and possibly kill someone.

You keep your eyes up ahead and see Arellano poking his head out to open fire several rounds. You swerve out of the way, rocking everyone inside as tires hit desert sand before pulling the car back onto the pavement. At least he only had a handgun he was currently using, though there may be other weapons in the car, but you make your decision.

“You trust me?” you ask, turning to Prentiss.

Without hesitation, she nods firmly. “I do.”

“Shoot the back right tire after I get him to open fire again. With him distracted, I’m hoping he spins …”

“… off the road. The sand should slow him. Car like that’s not made for driving on sand for too long.”

“And then we surround the car to arrest him while he’s in shock,” finishes Dave.

You hit the accelerator and come up to his right, off roading until you catch up to him as Emily rolls down her window. Emily had her gun hidden from view, but the safety was off and ready to go once you gave her the opening.

You nod your head up and salute Arellano with a cocky grin, which pisses him off after he realizes you were right there again. He quickly points the gun at you. You hit the brake while easing off the accelerator, so all Arellano shot was the passenger window, shattering glass pieces everywhere where you now weren’t. You veer back onto the road, the car’s suspension taking the brunt of force for changing terrain so quickly. You saw how frantic Arellano was trying to control the steering wheel and with you keeping him off guard, it left him open for Prentiss who was already leaning out the window and lining up a shot.

She fires one round into the back right tire as planned and immediately you slow down to bring the car around to the left to avoid impact. The tire blows out with a bang and since Arellano was pulling the steering wheel down to the right, the car spins out in a three-sixty once and diverges off the road. In a panic, Arellano hits the accelerator, kicking up sand and with the loss of traction, ends up spinning his good back wheel deeper into soft sand. He was stuck.

Before he could make a decision on what to do next, you already pulled up alongside his car and put it in park to allow Rossi and Prentiss out. They quickly take sides, pointing their guns at him from both front windows.

Rossi was on the passenger side and saw that in the chaos, Arellano lost his gun. The 9mm was laying on the floor mat of the passenger side.

Rossi tsks as he tries to go for it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Arellano slowly raises his hands, glaring at Rossi with crooked sunglasses. Prentiss keeps the gun training on him while opening the driver’s side. “And you are under arrest Mr. Arellano. Let me list off all the reasons why …”

You were leaning against the SUV with arms crossed watching the state troopers take custody of Arellano from Rossi. It just made sense to wait and hand him off to local authorities, and it was one less thing the BAU had to do. The rest of the team would meet you in the police station in Albuquerque and start the paperwork to tie the case up with a bow for the district attorney.

You became distracted by the sound of the tow truck the troopers called in to take the Camaro. The driver was just finishing attaching the tow hook under the front bumper when you felt another presence join you against the car. You know it was Prentiss, but you honestly had nothing to say to her. Nope. Not even if she still trusted you in the field. Not that it almost made the fight you had in her office sting less.

Emily has her hands tucked into her front pants pockets and watches the car being pulled up the ramp with you. “Your driving was incredible,” she states delicately, testing the waters.

“Thanks.” You then add as an afterthought. “Nice shot.”

“Thanks.”

Silence ensues as you both watch the driver secure the Camaro. You really just want her to go and end this awkwardness, but Prentiss’ stubborn ass is still there.

You hear Emily shift beside you and then a thud. You finally dare to look at her and see her gazing up towards the sky. Silver grey hair was tousled against her shoulders and the car since there was no time for her to put it in a ponytail. Everything happened so fast as the three of you were not prepared for an actionable situation. She looks even more beautiful.

You resist the urge to restart the conversation despite wanting to know what’s on her mind, so you look across the scene and see Rossi looking back at the two of you. He smirks and just walks away and thus, takes away your way out.

Ugh.

“I need to apologize again,” admits Prentiss with a soft voice that takes you by surprise.

You tilt your head slightly while raising your brow. “Won’t hear me arguing.”

She nods. “I deserve that.” You watch her swallow; your eyes dragging along her neck and enjoy the view far too much for your liking before Emily moves her head to catch your gaze. “I am sorry. For the misunderstanding in my office.”

Your eyes squint and give no indication to her if you accept. You need more information. “But why was there one? I mean, I get being miffed that I did my own thing …”

“Miffed?” she questions while cutting you off.

“Put out. Angry. Asserting dominance by being a bitch.” You shrug nonchalantly but Emily heard the underlying hurt in your voice. “Miffed’s being nice, chief.”

“Oh … don’t do that,” Emily says with disappointment.

“Do what?” You know what you did.

“Be all formal like that.”

“Well, I thought we were past all that, but you pulled rank on me.” You didn’t hide the hurt in your voice as you challenged her. “That was Section Chief Prentiss getting pissy with me, so I figured I need to address you that way from now on.”

“But that’s not what I want,” she reveals quickly and that made you pause once your eyes meet brown ones. In that moment, all the sounds became muffled as time slowed. You could feel your heart begin to race under Emily’s intense gaze that were holding all the answers to why your friendship went to shit. You have your suspicions, but it was important to hear it from Prentiss.

“So,” you ask bluntly. “What the fuck do you want? Cuz I’m tried of this bullshit, chief.”

She winces and you hate that as much as you like doing that to her. You want to be vindictive like she was being to you, but in the next breath, you really hate how upset you were making her.

You watch her lips push and pull ever so slightly in thought but somehow, she has the strength not to look away. When her facial features smooth out, you know she comes to a decision and wait for it while holding your breath.

She fists her pants pockets and speaks your name with care. “I want you.”

The air rushes out of your mouth as your chest tightens. You end up playing dumb because you don’t know how to react to this and look away cowardly. “I … what?” Then your defense mechanism kicks in. “Kinda have an audience here, Prentiss.”

She smiles, glad to hear your joke and most importantly you are calling her by her last name again. “Well, I was thinking of a few dates first but hey, we can always give them a show,” she says as her gaze looks out to everyone clearing the scene. She saw Rossi finishing up with a deputy.

“That is the socially acceptable thing to do first,” you agree, then look at her. “But why are you telling me this now? Seems an odd time to do so.”

“That it is.” Her lips press thinly before responding. “I was gonna ask you out last Saturday.”

That made you jerk back and tilt your head in thought. “The day after Fireside?”

“Yes,” she confirms.

“Okay.” You sound as confused as you looked. “Why didn’t you?”

“Well, I was about to when I overheard your speaking with Brian.”

“Brian?” You’re baffled. “What does my conversation with Brian have to -. Oh …” It finally clicks as you remember your conversation about your ‘date’ with Nina. “Prentiss,” you say teasingly and smirk as she blushes. “All this nonsense was cuz you’re jealous?”

“I am not not saying that,” she sneers, but takes a deep breath before nodding. “But … maybe.”

You’re touched and feel yourself beaming. “Thank you for telling me.”

She looks at you pointedly and sees a resolution reflecting in your eyes. Emily frowns. “But?”

“But this isn’t a good idea. Even with me hitting on you in Russian,” you admit sheepishly.

“So, you do remember!” She grins. “Ass.”

You bow your head at that remark to concede the truth of it.

“And just for the record, I’ve been informed that since Brian is your direct supervisor, you wouldn’t be dating your boss,” she answers, anticipating your next response.

Shit.

Do you keep pressing that you work together and it’s a bad idea despite there being no official reason not to have a romantic relationship with one another. Or do you tell her the truth.

You look down at the sand. “I suck at relationships.” You give her a partial truth.

“That’s alright because you’re in luck.” She says your name and you look up to see her smile knowingly. “I suck at them, too. Like, really suck at them. As JJ will confirm, I’m the master of self-sabotage.”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “That’s a helluva thing to admit to someone you’re asking out.”

“Yes, it is.” Emily kicks at the sand nervously since you still haven’t given her an answer either way.

“You know I don’t date. Like, ever.” You admit and hear Emily’s boots shifting quickly in the sand.

“I, uh, didn’t realize that. But you know I appreciate you telling me this up front instead of stringing me along. Or being utterly rude like I was to you.” Emily was starting to spiral and needed to get away from you to recuperate from this raw emotional state. Damn her for assuming you would just magically forgive her and say yes.

“Hey, Emily?” you start but she was still going.

“No, it’s alright. Thank you for this.”  Her smile was all for show, but her eyes were dull and defeated. “We should get Rossi and head back to meet the rest of the te-.”

“Emily, stop!” You say firmly and that halts her from walking away any further. She hesitantly looks at you despite her body thrumming with anxiousness. She was ready to bolt by words or movement. You take a cautious step forward and decide to go all in like Charlie hoped you would. “I mean, I’ve never dated anyone before. Ever.”

Emily quirks a brow as if she didn’t hear that right. “Like … ever?”

“Never, ever.” You kick the sand now and chuckle nervously. “No one came along that mattered.”

Emily’s lips slowly curl into a hopeful smile. “Really? Not even in high school or …?”

You confirm all of that with a nod, which was far more confident than your voice that cracks. “Yep.” With Emily looking so adorable with that admission you look away. “Fuck, Prentiss. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asks taking a step back closer to you with a shit eating, confident grin.

“Fuck it, like that!” you accuse, gesturing at her, with a nervous laugh. Damn her gorgeous smile that just lights up when so thrilled. For once, Emily looks like the weight of the entire world didn’t rest on her shoulders. How could that be because of you?

“So?” she lowers her voice on purpose and stops in front of you, relaxed and back in control of this conversation. You were close enough that if she wanted to, she could reach out and touch you, but she wouldn’t. Not with too many eyes in the vicinity. “Does this mean you’ll allow me the pleasure of taking you out sometime?”

You lick your lips and nervously scratch at the back of your neck, which makes Emily’s eyes light up happily with the effect she was having on you. “Ah fuck it.” You twist your lips, sucking on the lower one as you find the courage to look directly into those gorgeous brown eyes that were distracted by your lips. “Yeah. I’d love to.”

I'm living for the only thing I know I'm running and not quite sure where to go And I don't know what I'm diving into Just hanging by a moment here with you

Hanging by a Moment cont. - Lifehouse

*Off-Highway Vehicle

*Children, Youth & Families Department

*All-Points Bulletin

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list:

@unkonw00 @ara-a-bird @rayisaknight @sevyscoven @maybe-a-humanbean @unoreverselu @fluffypalmtree @willow-nox @simplylove-c @piiinco @daffodil-heart

[hyukasmiles]

soft dom!soobin overstimming sub!reader with a vibe while whispering praises into her ear ahhh

��Soobin—

Description: Listen! Soobin calls his partner bunny as an inside joke you cannot change my mind. Also‼️ i’ve gotten a lot of asks in all at once (tysm my loves) and i’m tryna write them all so please give me a little grace 🫶

Fem Reader

Warnings: NSFW// overstim// use of a sex toy// pet names (bunny, sweet thing, pretty)// NOT PROOF READ

—

“You’re doing so good, bunny.” Soobin laughs, pressing the rose shaped vibrator into your clit. “Why ‘ya crying?”

“It’s…” You draw out the s as your sentence falls off. Your body doesn’t know what to do and your brain is no help as your hips jump away from the vibration at the same time you try to push closer to Soobin.

You try to squeeze your thighs together, desperate for something you hope it will solve but Soobin doesn’t let you, pinning one of your legs down with his knee. “It’s what sweet thing?” He laughs, slowly moving the device in little circles.

Soobin starts talking again but you can’t hear him over the ringing starting in your ears as he pushes you farther and farther. Your eyes roll back, your legs shake, your thoughts slip out of your brian, everything is just too much. “… so stupid.” He coos, kissing you on the corner of your mouth. “Bet you’re feeling so good, huh, bunny? You’re gonna cum right?” You try to grab at him but he jerks away from your hands each time, laughing a little as he does so. You smile when you do catch him by the collar of his shirt dragging him down to be level with you. You whine and roll your hips into the device, wanting him as close as possible.

“You’re ok, pretty.” Soobin smooshes it even more into your clit, the vibrations marking your whole body shake as you finally cum against him. He leaves it on as you ride out your orgasm and then past it, looking at you with one eyebrow raised.

You try to whine out for him to stop but you’re cut off by yourself crying out for him to keep going. “Soo…” You can hear the fabric of Soobin’s shirt stretching as you pull him towards you. He’s far too close to making you cum again far too quickly, your legs fighting against his knees as you try to close your legs again. “Oh-!”

Soobin smiles as you cum again, taking away the vibrator and laughing as you sigh in relief. “Tired?” He presses kisses against your neck, cradling you in your arms. And when you nod he smiles again, seemingly done for the night.

You’re finally calming down when Soobin sits back up, grinning and pushing your unpinned knee into the mattress before turning the vibrator back on.

——

Inbox always open ❤️

[nana-71926]

Author's Notes: Aaand here's the next chapter. Brian is a riddle that Roger is determined to get to the bottom of. Enjoy! XD

Excerpt:

May 1865

“It’s getting late,” Roger said, slowly rising from his seat, “and I am keeping you from your rest. I hope you have been sleeping well lately, my friend?”

He was pleased to see color flood Brian’s wan cheeks. “Very well, thank you,” Brian replied, reluctantly leading the way through the narrow passageway to the door. “I’ve been having good dreams lately.”

Roger smiled as Brian looked away, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “That is good. You ought to rest as much as you can to get your strength back.”

Brian’s answering smile gave way to a look of consternation as he opened the front door. “Oh,” he said at the thick, swirling fog. “Oh, no.”

“No matter,” said Roger bracingly. “It’s just a slight mist which will lift in no time. I can find my way home.”

“It’s as thick as pea soup,” Brian protested, dismayed. “You can’t go out there. There might be wolves, or…or something worse.”

Roger would have laughed at the thought of something worse than he, lurking in the dark.

“Stay,” pressed Brian, the urgency of the situation lending him some eloquence. “Stay the night. Here. With me.”

“Are you sure?” Roger queried, brow furrowed. “I do not want to be a bother—”

“You are no bother,” said Brian quickly, growing bolder under Roger’s gaze. “Stay with me.”

Roger gave him his small, sharp smile and said graciously, “Alright. If you insist.”

Buy the Muse some ko-fi to show her some love (and to make her write faster!) ^_~

[dreamingkatie]

Shrove Tuesday

Brian tosses his bag on the floor and lies back on the bed. Our flight into New Orleans was an easy, quick one, and the rental car process was blissfully smooth, as was check-in. It’s not hot yet, but the air is heavy and the pollen leaves a sickly yellow dust on the surface of the pool, the chairs, the pavement. 

“I’m gonna take a little rest while you put away clothes,” he says. He closes his eyes. 

“Brian?” 

“Hm?”

“You said that you’d let me come today,” I whisper.

“Baby, I’m exhausted,” he sighs. “Can you please get us unpacked?”

I nod and unzip his bag. I hang his clothes and hang my dresses and hear his breathing deepen. I take out the fash wash and the razor, moving in and out of the bathroom quietly. When I’m finished I sit on the balcony, look out on the courtyard, and read the McCarthy novel I’ve read three times before. Laughter and shouting drifts over and up from the Garden District. I squeeze my legs together. 

“Kate,” he says. 

I stick my head back into the suite. I smile. Brian unbuckles his belt and motions me in. I smile, searching his face. My hands are sweaty. I shut the door with a click, feeling strangely, unaccountably shy. I climb onto the tall bed and stretch out against him. 

He pushes my head down.

“But –”

“Kate, c’mon,” he says, his fingers sliding into my hair. 

“It’s Fat Tuesday. Brian, you said…”

“Please stop talking,” he says. His voice has an edge and I stop talking. I pull his cock out from his pants. I try to look up but he tightens his fist against my scalp. 

“Go on, sweetheart,” he says. “Good. Just a little deeper – good. Stay right there and let me talk to you.”

“Uuugh.”

“I know. Are you paying attention, Kate? I was thinking on the plane, and then I was thinking again while I was lying here and, honey – here, take a breath – I can’t let you come.”

I sob. His cock throbs in my throat.

“It’s so hard, isn’t it? But I feel like God is calling me, calling us, to start Lent right now. What does that mean, Kate?”

He pulls me off him. I swallow.

“Sacrifice,” I sputter.

“Yes,” he says, pushing back into my mouth. “And denial. Little faster now, Kate. Self examination. What else, baby?”

“Mmm.”

“Repentance, right?” He groans. “Discipline. You know what sex is for. You know how we have to do this.”

I feel like I’m drowning.

“So we’ll stay the course, ok? You aren’t supposed to come, and it’s just selfish. Selfish for you and it’s irresponsible of me. Oh – Kate, I’m going to come soon.”

Brian loosens his grip and I carefully wipe my mouth and move away from him. I lie on my back and close my eyes and he pulls up my dress and pushes my panties to the side. He is careful, pushing his cock in slowly, making certain not to touch me, holding my legs wide. I could be so close, so close in just a minute…. But he knows that, too, and he’s quicker and smarter and he knows better anyway. When he comes and I feel him soften and go slack against me I want to cry. I want to grind against him. 

His breath is hot against my neck and his weight is crushing. “I know how hard it is.”

“You don’t,” I whisper.

He sighs and pulls up his pants. He pulls out his belt. 

“No, I guess I don’t. Turn over, Kate, feet on the floor. No, keep your panties down. I think this is going to be an especially hard lesson.”

The blows begin, the shadows grow long, the revelers get louder and I lie still and let him remind me.

[denaliwrites]

Regale You With A Gourd-geous Tale

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Alec partake in the annual Broadchurch Pumpkin Carving Contest, but things go rather sideways.

Soundtrack: Pumpkin Cowboy by Brian David Gilbert

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Alec is not a basic white girl.

You had thought that convincing the Broadchurch DI to enter the annual Pumpkin Carving Contest would be fun, help him integrate into the community better, and meet people in a context that did not involve crime.

You had been wrong.

Sure, the actual contest had gone swimmingly up to a point. You didn't win, but it was fun. Until it wasn't.

First, one of the local pub owners had gotten too drunk and caused a scene. Then, one of the village kids had gone missing (he was found an hour later eating a candy apple as if nothing had happened). Then, someone had injured themselves with the carving tools (how? you were unsure).

Overall, it was just hard to really focus on the activity at hand.

Also, your pumpkins sucked.

You blamed the multiple distractions.

You did get a consolation prize of a free drink ticket, which you used for a pint of Guinness, so at least there was that.

"I'm sorry," Alec said as you walked home. "I know you really wanted me to be normal today."

You sighed. "It's not your fault." He had his arm around your shoulder, making it easy to lightly bump against him as you walked. "I know it's hard for you to shut work off... especially when it just keeps coming at you like that."

"It really did," he groused, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "Just one thing after another, all day."

The two of you walked in silence for a stretch after that, until Alec brought you to a halt outside a coffee shop. "Would you like something?" he asked, tossing his head towards the cafe. "Something to make up for today."

"You don't have to do that," you said, smiling. "But, sure. Large pumpkin spice latte, please."

"Y'ken," he said as he parted from you, "I've never had a pumpkin spice latte."

He did not give you the opportunity to respond. He was gone in an instant, stepping inside to order your drinks. You waited outside for him to come back, your stunned expression never leaving you.

He eventually returned, handing you your drink. It took him a minute to notice your shocked look.

"What is it?" he asked, and you could tell he was totally oblivious.

"You've never had a pumpkin spice latte?" you finally asked.

"... No," he answered unsurely, blinking. "Should I've?"

"Well... I mean... probably? Maybe? It's just that, like, everyone's had at least one by now."

"Except me."

"See, that's where you're wrong, because I have a pumpkin spice latte right here, and you're going to try it." You plucked his coffee out of his hand, replacing it with your latte.

He stared dumbfounded at it for a moment.

"You're supposed to drink it," you said in amusement, watching him. "It won't bite, Alec."

Hesitantly, he took a sip. The expression he made afterward was not entirely pleased, but it wasn't completely disgusted. In terms of Alec's reactions, that wasn't a terrible sign.

He handed the latte back to you and took his own coffee back in one swift move, then took a palette-cleansing sip of his drink. "I never want to taste that again," he said, motioning to your latte.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad!"

"Is this because we lost the pumpkin carving contest? Are you punishing me?" he asked jokingly, turning to look at you. "I did say I was sorry."

"It's not that!" you whined, shoving at his shoulder playfully. You were met with a chuckle. "Do you really not like it?"

"It's... fine," he answered honestly. "I'm not gonna go orderin' it but it's not the worst thing I've ever had, either."

Well, for Alec, that was a win.

"I'll get you," you said jovially with a smirk. "One of these days, you'll like pumpkin spice."

What he couldn't bear to tell you, was that he'd hated it. Could not stand the taste of it. And the idea of having to ever have that terrible flavor anywhere near his mouth ever again terrified him.

But, the idea of "converting" him made you happy, so he played along, hoping for his own sake that he did end up liking the stuff through sheer force of will.

And, he still felt bad about the pumpkin carving contest. While you were still asleep in the early hours of the morning, he snuck out of bed and ran to the shops, picking up two pumpkins and a carving kit for the two of you to enjoy alone at home.

When you woke up and saw his gift, not only were you pleased as punch, but you insisted on carving them right away.

The previous day had had some bad spots, but that day was perfect.

[lemondoddle]

get you a man who will be your (emotional) support bra- spiritual successor to this post!

[I.D. four images of a pencil comic featuring jay and tim from marble hornets. the comic starts with jay hunched over and angrily editing while tim lays on the bed in the background staring at him. he asks "you doin' okay?" an agitated jay replies "is there even a point to that question anymore?" tim makes a very unamused face and responds "ok you're pissy, got it. but this is different than usual, what gives?" jay curls his arms in on himself and looks to the side saying "nothing it- it's stupid." tim, now sitting up, prods "jay..." jay covers his face with his hands and exclaims "UGH well thanks to you i haven't been binding and i can feel my chest too much and its'-UGH!" tim begins to get off the bed with a concerned look. he approaches jay and rests a hand on his shoulder with a solemn look, saying "I- that sucks, man." jay is still looking away, one hand to his face. he then glances to tim asking "yeah, don't suppose you know anything that might help?" tim makes a blank face as he has a sudden recollection and then answers "i.. might have an idea.." while blushing and looking to the side. jay turns to him and asks "oh yeah?" tim brings a hand up to rub the back of his neck and nervously answers "yeah just- don't freak out?" he then looks to the side and says "turn back around" through this jay looks at tim confusedly but complies. tim pulls up a chair behind jay, who's still hunched on a stool. tim positions himself behind jay and begins to reach around as jay lets out a quiet "uh..." tim then wraps his arms around jay, right under his chest. jay sits up with a shocked expression and thinks a very large "UH." while jay keeps a shocked and heavily blushing expression, tim rests his chin on jay's shoulder, looking down with a slightly embarrassed expression and saying "uh-yeah. i found this helped me a lot before my surgery. i can stop though." jay looks to the side with a wobbly smile and replies "no it-its fine. it's a good distraction. but uh, since you're here, mind helping me crack these codes?" they stay like that and idly chat for a panel when it comes back to tim looking over jay's shoulder and saying "... i'm sorry you were feeling shitty but i'm glad you're taking better care of yourself." this flips to jay's side where he smiles and says "... me too. thanks for looking out for me." they continue on, a panel zooming out to view them from a window, part of a hooded figure on the side leaning on the wall and seemingly humming pleasantly. back to tim who says "hmm, could be-" when a sleepy jay lolls his head into frame. tim turns to look at him and with a sweet smile says "let's call it quits for now, huh?" jay tiredly responds "mn, ok." end I.D.]

+ a bonus of when tim would deal with it:

[I.D. a simple two panel comic with panel one showing brian sitting on a couch eating popcorn as tim stands behind the couch sadly leaning his head on brian and groaning "briannn.." brian asks "need a lift?" tim answers "few minutes please" and brian responds "on it boss". the second panel shows tim having joined brian on the couch, brian wrapping his arms under tim's chest. tim now holds the popcorn bowl and chews while holding up a piece for brian. end I.D.]

[fandomgirlz01]

By Your Side

(CSI: NY) Reed Garrett X Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: No  

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Fic (Potential Future Series)

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,204

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}. 

Post Date & Time: May 20th 2024 at 11:14 PM

Summary: When Reed accidentally gets involved in something his friend died for the reader (his girlfriend) comes home to a very scary situation. Later they each help each other through forms of grief. 

Authors Note: There will be a lot of time skips and it mostly follows Reed’s story line in the show with just a few minor (very minor) changes to it. This will be part of a future Reed series, for now though please just enjoy this part as a little sneak peek to the future series.

Reed’s Pov:

“Did you talk to Mac like you wanted to, babe?” Y/n, my girlfriend, asks as I talk with her on the phone while walking up to our campus dorm room building. 

“Yeah, I did. Told him everything I knew,” I answer her and she sighs, making me imagine her frowning. 

“Reed, baby. Are you sure you should be getting involved with this?” she queries in worry as I open the door to the building. 

“I’ll be fine, babe. It’s for Brian. You know he’d do the same for us,” I beg her to understand and she sighs. 

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” she tells me in a sad tone and I stop walking up the stairs for a moment. 

“Babe. Mac won’t let me get hurt. I’ll be okay,” I calmly inform her in hopes of calming her anxiety. 

“How’d you even get into the lab, isn’t it hard to get into?” she asks and I smirk as I start walking up the flight of stairs again. 

“I told them I was family and they let me in,” I inform her and she giggles. 

“And they let you in?” she parrots in disbelief and I smile even more as I let out a chuckle. 

“That they did,” I reply to her in a smug tone and she laughs as I imagine her shaking her head in disbelief. 

“That’s crazy. It’s the top forensics building in New York and they just let you in if you say you’re family? Shouldn’t their security be a little better than that?” she asks in an amused tone that makes me chuckle and shake my head. 

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” I ask and we both laugh. 

“Now I’m second guessing my future line of work…” she jokes and I shake my head. 

“Awe, don’t do that, sweetheart. It’s all you’ve wanted growing up. I’m sure not much actually happens where they need hard core security there anyway,” I comfort to the best of my ability and she laughs. 

“Oh. Okay… I guess I won’t drop out of class,” she jokes and I chuckle, shaking my head at our playfulness. 

“Anyways… When will you be home?” I ask her and she hums. 

“I’ll be home in about a half hour, tops, honey. I promise,” she swears to me and I smile, shaking my head as I continue my walk up the stairs to our dorm room. 

“It’s okay, babe. I know work is demanding sometimes. We’ve talked about this. All I care about is that you come home safe,” I inform her and she giggles, making me smile.

“Ok. Well, I’ll see you in half an hour babe. I love you,” she tells me and my grin grows as I unlock the front door. 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” I respond and before I know it, she’s hanging up. 

I chuckle, shaking my head as I pocket my phone and finish unlocking the door before going into our room. I walk in and pull my bag over my head as I close the door, but I’m immediately in defense mode as the room feels off. I look over at my computer and find a sticky note stuck to it. 

At first I’m relieved, thinking y/n had just left me a cute note like she always does, but when I get closer it’s clear my laptop screen has been broken and as I read the note my stomach drops: keep your story quiet. 

I walk up a little closer as fear now courses through me and next thing I know, I feel a presence behind me. I quickly turn to look at what it is, but as soon as I do I’m punched, making me fall back to the floor. The person keeps kicking and punching me, but I can’t make out who it is because they wear a solid white mask. 

I try my hardest to fight back, but after a few hits to the head everything becomes blurry so I try to curl into myself and hide away. The person keeps kicking and I keep trying to move away, but to no avail. Soon before I know it, the person stops and I look up at them as black spots slowly fill my vision. The last thing I see is the person leaving the dorm room before finally my eyes close. 

Reader’s Pov: 

I smile as I walk up to our dorm room building, glad that my manager let me go home earlier than I was supposed to. I tiredly but happily drag myself up the stairs to surprise my boyfriend. Once I get closer, my smile falls as I see the door is cracked open. I immediately start to worry, seeing as Reed never leaves it open and I carefully push it the rest of the way open. 

“Reed,” I gasp out when I see him crumpled up on the floor.  

“Reed. Baby?” I call him again as I drop my bag aside before getting down onto my knees next to him. 

I shake him and he doesn’t respond so I turn him over. I gasp as I see his face clearly beaten and bruised up. Immediately I stand back up and at first I feel a little dizzy, but I push it off to walk over to the desk. Quickly I search for the card I know Reed has. It takes a few minutes, but I find it and hold it up. I quickly dial the number and it rings for a few minutes. 

“Hello? How can I help you?” A voice asks through the phone and I pause. 

“Hello?” The voice asks again and I blink. 

“H-h-hi, is this Mac Taylor?” I stutter out into the phone and he pauses for a moment. 

“Yes. This is he. May I ask who you are?” he asks and I look over at Reed. 

“I’m Reed’s girlfriend. He, uhh… said this morning that if anything happened to call you,” I quickly explain in a panicked tone. 

“Is Reed okay? Are you?” he asks me and I pause as I look down at Reed, now getting choked up. 

“I’m okay. I came home to our door open and him on the floor,” I explain as I hold my tears back so he can understand me. 

“Okay, listen to me. I’ll be there as quickly as I can and I’ll bring some others with me. Is he unconscious?” he asks me and I hold back another sob. 

“He is. I tried calling out to him and even shaking him, yet no response,” I inform him as I bite my lip, staring down at Reed with tears constantly welling up in my eyes. 

“Ok. Just stay with him. Me and a couple officers will be there in a few minutes, okay?” he calmly tells me and I continue to stare at Reed, not responding. 

“Can you do that?” Mac asks me again and I quickly straighten my back. 

“Y…yeah. Please get here quickly,” I reply as I now get onto the floor next to Reed. 

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he quickly promises before we both hang up. 

I sit against the side of our bed and lightly pick Reed’s head up to lay it in my lap. I hug his head close before leaving a light kiss on his forehead as I finally let the tears fall. 

“Reed. Come on, baby,” I gently coo to him in hopes he’ll start to stir awake. 

“Come on Reed. Please open your eyes for me,” I gently plead with him as I rub his hair back from his forehead. 

I sit with him for a few more minutes before suddenly he lets out a low groan. I perk up and gently shush him as I continue to rub his hair back. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. You’re okay,” I coo softly to him as he slowly comes to. 

It takes him a bit, but finally he fully comes to and when his eyes are fully open, he starts to squirm in my arms. He freaks out for a minute, but calms when I hold his head so he can see it’s only me. 

“Shh. It’s only me, babe. You’re okay… you’re safe. I’m right here,” I calmly murmur to him as I rock us back and forth lightly. 

“No. You can’t be here. Th- they might come back…” he fights me again and I shake my head. 

“No one is coming back, Reed. You're okay and I’m okay. Mac’s on his way,” I inform him as I continue to play with his hair and he immediately calms again. 

“I’m sorry you came home to me like this, babe,” he groans out and I shake my head. 

“It’s okay, honey. I’m with you through anything, you know that,” I promise him and he smiles sadly up at me. 

“Reed,” a voice calls out, making me look up to see a man standing at our door. 

“Hi, Mac,” Reed replies with a sheepish smile. 

“He’s in here, guys,” Mac calls down the hall before walking into the room. 

“Hi. I’m Mac,” introduces himself to me and I smile lightly at him. 

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Reed,” I explain and Mac smiles. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, although I wish it was over lunch or breakfast instead of this,” Mac comments and Reed laughs lightly. 

“Yeah, that’s my fault,” Reed comments with a sheepish smile that also seems to be full of pain. 

“Do you wanna get up?” I ask Reed and he gives me a light nod. 

“Ok. Come on,” I nod back before standing by myself and getting ready to help him up. 

I help him until he stands with Mac helping from Reed’s other side. Once he’s standing, he staggers ever so slightly and I hold onto him tighter before he moves to sit on the bed. One of the paramedics that came with Mac walks over. Once Reed sits, the dizzy feeling starts to creep up again and now I stagger a bit. 

“Whoa. Babe, sit,” Reed tells me as he holds onto my hand. 

“Hold that thought,” I reply before rushing to the bathroom on the other side of our room. 

“Babe?” Reed questions as he gets up and rushes in after me. 

I drop down onto my knees in front of the toilet and my stomach releases the dinner I had before work. Reed quickly rushes to hold my hair back and rubs my back soothingly. It takes a few minutes, but soon I finish and sit back against Reed. 

“Babe. Are you doing okay?” he asks me with a furrowed brow. 

“I’m fine, honey. I think I’m just in shock mode. You know me. Let’s go back out,” I tell him as I wipe at my lips before standing and cupping some water into my mouth. 

“Are you sure?” he asks me and I nod. 

“Let’s go,” I reply before pulling him back out to the bed. 

“Babe. Sit,” Reed commands as he pulls me down next to him. 

“Okay. Let’s take a look at the injuries,” the paramedic comments as he pulls out a few things from his bag. 

The paramedic quickly looks him over, checking his eyes and has him follow the light. Then he checks Reed’s ribs for any that may be broken. Soon the paramedic packs his stuff back up and stands. 

“Okay, son. I think you are okay. Nothing major, just a few bruises, a concussion, and a few broken ribs. All should heal within the next month,” the paramedic informs Reed who nods and sniffles. 

“Make sure to put something cold on that forehead bruise and maybe that eye,” the paramedic finishes off before nodding to Mac. 

“Wait…” Reed calls out before the paramedic can leave. 

“Yes?” The paramedic questions as he turns back to Reed. 

“Can you please look over my girlfriend? She’s been having throw up episodes and dizzy spells,” Reed explains and I quickly try to hide the widening of my eyes by looking towards the fridge. 

“Reed, baby. I’m okay. I told you it’s just the shock, it’ll wear off. Really, I’m fine,” I tell him before turning around with a soda. 

“Are you sure, ma’am? I don’t mind giving you a look,” the paramedic butts in and I fight the huff I want to let out. 

“Oh. Thank you, sir, but really, I’m fine,” I deflect and the paramedic seems to get the clue. 

“Ok. Have a good rest of your night then,” the paramedic bids his goodbye, leaving before Reed can say anything. 

“Here, babe, put this on your face,” I tell Reed as I hand him a can and he gives me a look of disbelief. 

“What?” I ask when he doesn’t take the can. 

“You should have gotten checked out,” he tells me and I sigh, shaking my head. 

“Reed. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m okay. A little shaken from finding you unconscious on the floor? Hell yeah. Other than that, I’m fine. I have a doctor's appointment set up tomorrow, remember?” I tell him and he sighs, shaking his head. 

“I just want you to be okay,” he whispers out and I smile softly as I sit down next to him. 

“And I am. So let’s get you in the same boat, okay?” I ask him as I reach forward and squeeze his hand. 

“Okay…” he agrees softly before pulling me into his side. 

“Here, baby. Put this on your face,” I almost command as I put the soda into his other hand and he chuckles. 

“Okay. Okay,” he agrees as he wraps his fingers around it and pulls the can up to his face. 

“Are you two sure you're alright?” Mac asks and we both look up at him. 

“Yeah. I think we are,” Reed tells him before putting the soda back on his face. 

“Reed. I want you and this beautiful girl of yours to stay at your parents’ house tonight,” Mac tells him, pointing at him. 

“Yeah. I’m keeping y/n safe,” Reed comments as he takes the can from his face and stands. 

“This is my first Geraldo, you know. Beat up for a story. Making my girlfriend have a freak out when she just wanted to come home and sleep,” he explains as he looks at himself in the mirror next to our bed. He rubs at his face before I stand just a bit to smack his hand away from his face. 

“What’s this about?” Mac asks him as he leans over the desk and uses tweezers to take the note off the broken screen. 

“I have no idea. You know, I’m not even writing on the Kings and shadows. My piece is about students paying other students to take their exams for them,” Reed explains as he sits back down next to me and I cuddle into his side when he puts his arm around me. 

“Brian Miller know this?” Mac asks as he closes up the yellow envelope he holds. 

“I told him as soon as he told me what he was writing about,” Reed replies with a head nod and Mac pauses as he looks at our floor. 

He soon moves and bends down to it. He uses the tweezers to pick up what looks like a crumb of some kind and lifts it up to his face. 

“Let me see the bottom of both your shoes,” Mac tells us and Reed nods. 

“Yeah… ow,” Reed winces as he lifts his leg and I rub his chest lightly before lifting my own. 

“See, Brian and I, we were pretty competitive,” Reed explains and I scoff. 

“Pretty, baby you were more than competitive, admit it. You know I’m right,” I jump in and Reed looks at me before laughing. 

“I mean, she’s got a point… anyway, like I told him I wouldn’t mention him in my piece if he quit,” Reed goes on with his explanation again, wincing as he switches legs for Mac to look at. 

“But he said he’d already agreed to take two more exams. Then he was out,” Reed ends his explanation as now both his feet are down again. 

Mac looks over my first foot real quick, then I switch to the other and he looks at that one too before letting me put them back down. 

“Eddie Williams and Thomas Brighton were Brian’s last two clients,” Mac starts and Reed puts his head down, letting out a low ‘Yeah,’ as he does. 

“But only one of them had reason to want both stories killed,” Mac ominously comments as he stands up and puts the envelope in his pocket. 

After Mac and the rest of the CSIs left our apartment, we quickly packed our bags before heading to Reed’s parents’ house. Now we lay on his childhood bed together and Reed rubs my back lightly. 

“I’m thinking of going to Brian’s funeral…” he comments out loud and I move my head so I can look at him, letting my chin rest on his chest. 

“If you want to go, baby, we’ll go. When is it?” I inform him and he smiles softly at me. 

“How did I get so lucky?” he asks me as he rubs my arm ever so lightly and I smile. 

“I think I’m the lucky one,” I inform him and he smiles again, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“How about we’re both lucky?” he asks in a cheeky tone and I grin, giggling. 

“Agreed. Now, when’s Brian’s funeral?” I ask him and he pauses. 

“Tomorrow afternoon…” he admits, almost like it’s a bad thing. 

“Why do you say that like it’s bad, babe?” I ask him and he shrugs. 

“I mean… you have your appointment tomorrow, right?” he asks me and I perk up, sitting up fast. 

“Babe? What’s wrong?” he asks me with confusion and worry written all over his face. 

“I have something for you. I was going to give it to you tonight, but then everything happened,” I quickly explain as I dig around in my bag for the small gift I have for him and his face relaxes. 

“Babe, you didn’t have to,” he denies, shaking his head as I finally pull the small gift bag out of my bag. 

“Oh, but I did. Open it. I think you’ll be plenty surprised. I know I was,” I tell him as I sit on the bed with my legs curled up behind me and bite my lip. 

He starts to open it and soon before I know it, he’s pulling the little onesie out. He pauses to read it before looking up at me. I smile a shy, worried smile as he looks at me in awe. 

“Babe, is this real?” he asks and I giggle, nodding as tears well up in my eyes. 

“I had the same reaction. I know we said we’d wait till after marriage, but I know you’re the only one for me and I’ve known that since 4th Grade,” I ramble as I play with a loose string on his blanket. 

“Babe-” he starts, but I quickly cut him off. 

“That’s what the appointment tomorrow is for. First scan…” I trail off before I let out a gasp as he uses his finger to guide my face up to look at him. 

“Honey, I’m not mad. I’m elated, like you said I’ve seen us together since forever,” he tells me softly as he rubs my cheek ever so slightly and the tears start to fall. 

“I love you Reed, so, so much,” I inform him softly as his eyes fill with tears too and he wipes at one that falls down my cheek. 

“I love you too, so, so much pretty girl, always,” he replies, rubbing my cheek and I grin. 

He sets the onsie and its bag aside before turning back to me. He pulls me back into the hug and kisses my forehead before slowly laying both of us back down onto the bed. He lightly rubs my arm that lays across his stomach along with my lower back. We lay there for a few minutes, both grinning ear to ear as he now rubs light circles on my stomach, making me laugh every few minutes when it tickles a little. Soon he leaves another kiss on my forehead as he moves back to just rubbing my arm. 

“I was also thinking of asking Mac where mom was buried,” he mumbles out, breaking the serene silence as I draw shapes against his covered stomach. 

“If you want to, honey. I think it’d be nice to know,” I agree with him and he sighs. 

“It’s just… I wanted you to meet her just as bad as I did myself. It might… be the only way for me to introduce you and myself to her,” he explains and I shake my head. 

“Reed, baby. That’s very sweet, but you don’t have to explain to me. I get it, I know you,” I softly tell him as I lay my chin on his chest to look at him again. 

“And I’d love to meet her, although I’m very sure she’s looking down on you and watching over you,” I tell him softly as I reach up and caress his face. 

He leans into it before kissing my palm and a tear falls from his eye. I quickly catch it and wipe it away. He shakes his head and I smile softly at him. 

“What?” I ask him as he just stares at me like I hung the stars just for him. 

“I think she sent me you, knowing I’d need you. So she sent your stubborn little self my way…” he tells me softly and I huff. 

“I wasn’t that stubborn…” I fight back with a roll of my eyes. 

“Oh yes, you were. Still are. I remember your little first grade self marching up next to me and little Hero Mckinley telling him he should laugh at someone who clearly needs help and pushing him,” he jokes with a smirk and I roll my eyes. 

“Well he was making fun of you! I wasn’t just going to stand by and let my best friend get made fun of. Plus, he’s the one that egged me on,” I grunt as I cross my arms and Reed chuckles. 

“And who the hell names their kid Hero then teaches him to be an absolute asshat? Like that’s just stupid. Heroes are supposed to be the one saving the day, not the villain. I mean it’s literally in the name,” I complain and Reed laughs, making me slap his shoulder. 

“I mean, I can’t say I don’t agree with you, baby. He was the absolute worst,” he adds with a dramatic eye roll before shaking his head and I sigh. 

“Really, he didn’t wanna be pushed, he shouldn't have been bullying you and other kids, let alone tell me to fight someone my own size,” I add on and Reed laughs again. 

“Really, he shouldn’t have. You’ve always been good at taking down people half your size…” he agrees though his laughter and I shake my head. 

“Damn right you are, baby. He should have known not to mess with you,” I tell him and he grins as his laugh dies off. 

“See I told you, she must have sent you my way. Must have known that little me would be a sissy pants,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and I sigh. 

“Reed, you weren’t a sissy pants. You were an only child and you were seven years old,” I deadpan and he chuckles. 

“So were you!” he fights back and I shake my head. 

“Yeah… but I had two brothers… who still like to kick my butt when they see me. I literally had to learn to fight back,” I humorlessly tell him with a raised eyebrow and he pauses. 

“Yeah, I guess that changes things a bit…” he comments and he chuckles when I smack him again. 

“Ya think?!” I playfully ask him as if he’s stupid only making him laugh again.

“I really do think mom sent me you though,” he seriously informs me when he’s done laughing. 

“Well, maybe she knew we were made for each other, then. I know myself that we are,” I tell him and he smiles. 

“I love you, you know that?” he asks me and I smile softly. 

“Yes, I know that, and I also happen to know that I love you just as much,” I reply to him and he smiles before stretching his neck just a little bit to kiss my nose. 

I giggle and scrunch up my nose, but kiss him back when he kisses my lips next. He then lays back and I cuddle in a little closer. 

“Sleep honey, sleep, we’ve had a very long day,” he informs me and I nod sleepily against his chest. 

“Very, very long indeed. You sleep too, Reed,” I tell him in the most stern tone I can manage though my sleepiness and he chuckles. 

“I promise, baby. I will,” he replies and it makes me grin before my eyes slowly close as sleep soon takes over. 

I hold onto Reed’s arm as we walk out of the church behind the family and the pallbearers. He stops at the top of the stairs and puts his hands in his pockets as he lightly kicks the ground with the tip of his shoe. I squeeze his arm and he takes his opposite hand out of his pocket. He grabs my arm lightly and squeezes it back as I lean against him. I nuzzle into his side and turns to me, giving my forehead a kiss before leaning his cheek against of my head as I close my eyes. 

I open my eyes again and see he’s tearing up again as he watches them put the coffin in the hearse. I rub his arms for a few minutes before he gives a small nod of his head. 

“Mac’s over there,” he comments and I look up at where he nodded. 

“You wanna go talk to him?” I ask and he nods solemnly. 

Reed takes his hand out of his pocket and reaches down to mine, gripping it softly as we walk down the steps. 

“Hey, Mac,” Reed greets his somewhat surrogate dad as we come to a stop. 

Mac spares a look over at the casket as the pallbearers push it the rest of the way into the hearse. Reed chokes up again as he too watches and I start to choke up as well. I rub my cheek lightly against his shoulder while holding his hand a little closer for comfort. He pulls his hand away from mine so he can put his arm around my shoulder. I nuzzle into his neck as I try to hide my face and he squeezes my shoulder. 

“I wanted you kids to know that we’re going to make an arrest,” Mac informs us and Reed lets out a long sigh. 

“Good. I’m glad,” Reed comments, squeezing my side lightly as he lets more tears flow. 

“Maybe I should have just turned Brian in for cheating, you know?” Reed adds on as he starts to cry even more and I squeeze his side with the arm I have wrapped around his stomach. 

“He would have been kicked out of the university, but he never would have been in that hedge maze,” Reed finishes his thought with even more tears running down his face and I kiss his cheek lightly. 

“You’re taking a lot of responsibility, Reed,” Mac comments and Reed shakes his head. 

“It’s ‘cause I feel bad… I feel I shoulda stopped him. I feel like I shoulda done something, but…” Reed trails off as he looks down for a moment and I hug him a little tighter. 

“I’m gonna miss him,” Reed comments and I finally let out a broken sob. 

“Goodness, Reed. I’m gonna miss him too,” I add and Reed hugs me closer as I cry into his shoulder. 

“I know, babe. I’m so sorry,” Reed tells me as he rubs my lower back and I shake my head. 

“Don’t you dare say that. It’s not you who should be sorry. It’s whoever killed Brian who needs to be sorry,” I sternly tell him, hoping it’ll change the way he’s thinking. 

“I’d listen to your girlfriend. She speaks the truth,” Mac tells Reed and he lazily points at me. 

“She always does… look, we gotta go,” Reed tells him. “We’re gonna head over to the cemetery before y/n’s doctor's appointment,” Reed informs him and he nods solemnly. 

“Reed, if there’s anything I can do for you two…” Mac sympathetically promises us, Reed looks at me for a moment and I nod at him. He looks down for a second, thinking it over before looking up. 

“I’d like to know where my mom’s buried,” Reed finally asks and Mac looks away, sighing for a moment. 

“She wasn’t…” Mac somberly states and Reed sighs before turning to me to lean his forehead against me. 

“Her body was never found. No trace at all…” Mac explains in a tone of melancholy before pausing. 

“But they’re…” he tries to continue, but stops to sigh. “We’re still looking,” he finishes, looking away as his own grief hits him. 

Reed sighs before letting go of me and taking a few steps forward. He reaches out and pulls Mac into a hug. It takes Mac a second before he hugs back and squeezes him a bit with both hands. Reed sniffles as he and Mac hold each other in the hug for a few minutes before hesitantly parting. Reed steps back and puts his arm back around my waist, pulling me into his side. 

“Thanks for everything,” Reed gives Mac his appreciation and Mac nods. 

“Ok. Then we gotta get going. Ready, babe?” Reed comments as he turns to me and I raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh! Can we, ahh, do lunch or breakfast tomorrow?” Reed asks and Mac smiles softly. 

“Yeah. Of course. Just text me the time and place,” Mac agrees with a smile and Reed nods happily. 

“Ok then, we’ll see you tomorrow, Mac,” Reed promises with a smile and Mac nods. 

“See you tomorrow, kids,” Mac replies and Reed gives him one last nod before starting to walk away. 

After leaving Mac we quickly head to the subway and get on. We ride it all the way to the street my doctor’s office is on before getting off. 

“Are you excited, babe?” I ask Reed, who squeezes my hand. 

“Of course I am. What kind of question is that?” he jokingly asks and I playfully roll my eyes. 

“Oh of course, I’m so sorry,” I reply with a grin as he opens the door and holds it open for me. 

“Let’s go see our baby,” he tells me with his own grin as I walk through the door. 

The end…

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[sofskywalkerr]

The Dead Skies

street racer hayden x reader

Chapter Two

Brian eventually figures out the location of the party, so you drive here. The volume is at its loudest, and of course you’re not following the rules; you’re going really fast, as usually. Hopefully without cops this time.

“Show me your skills,” A.J. says.

You think about it for a while. You’re hesitant, but like, what’s some fun, right?

“Oh, really? You want to see my skills? You better buckle up then.”

“Hell yeah,” you hear Brian say from the backseat.

You turn your car in a direction to one road where aren't as many cars and you go really fast as if you were in a race. While you drive, you realize you kind of miss it—this whole racing thing—but you quickly shake the thoughts off. You forget about your race. Your accident. You just feel the moment where you forget about everything around you.

You look in the rear-view mirror, seeing A.J. and Brian in the backseat. Your stare stays on A.J. for a while, as if to see if he’s impressed with your driving skills. When did become so competitive?

Then you decide to drift. Just for the fun of it. You look in the rear-view mirror again, now with a satisfied smirk on your face as you see A.J nod in approval.

“10 minutes tops, and we should be there, but I can make it 5.” You say this as you now keep your eyes on the road.

“Make it 5.” Brian says this as he puts his hand around the passenger seat so he can be closer and watch the drive.

“Say less.” You go full speed. It’s a quiet night; the only noise is coming from your car, which is playing your playlist at full volume. The roads aren’t full either, and your windows are down since it’s hot outside. You can feel the wind on your face.

“Right here.” Brian points out a building, which you drift right into to park. Easy.

You all get out of the car and close the door.

“Is this where the party’s at?” A.J asks.

“That’s what Tej said.”

"There is only one way to find out.”

You open the door to the building, and the music and the sounds of people speaking immediately fill your ears. Must be soundproof, you think to yourself.

“Are we going in, or what?” You tease as you walk in first, with A.J. and Brian right behind you.

You recognize some faces at the party, and as Tej notices you walk in, of course the first thing he announces is that the winner of tonight’s race is here. Annoying. You roll your eyes as you watch A.J. being dragged away to get drinks and onto the dance floor by some chicks. You stay by Brian’s side, who’s waiting for his girlfriend.

You always third-wheel, but you don’t mind that much. You’re happy that Brian is happy, and you get along with his girlfriend.

When you see him stand up, you know Cata has arrived.

“Hi.” You say with a smile as you greet her with a hug.

“You look so pretty," she says as she looks you up and down.

“Shush.” You roll your eyes as you chuckle and nod to Brian, who is already dragging Cata with him onto the dance floor by her waist.

You grab a drink and literally sit in a quiet corner.

Everyone is either drinking, dancing, or making out around you. Left out. You wish you could join. You don’t since want to embarrass yourself.

That’s until Tej announces from behind the DJ booth.

"Ladies, anyone want to dance with the winner?”

He can choose from whoever he pleases; it’s not like no one wants to dance with him, you think to yourself.

You see Brian waving to you across the room, but that could’ve been meant for someone else, so you yell, “Me?"

Tej looks at you from behind the booth and announces.

"Well, A.J., this lovely lady right here wants to dance with you.”

What the fuck? You didn't—oh, wait.

"No, I don’t! I was yelling to Bri-“

You feel someone’s hand on your bare waist. Oh only who could that be? You turn around, and you see a half-drunk A.J. behind you. At least he’s being respectful.

“I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Too late for that, ma’am.”

Ma’am what? Did he just say—he was right, it’s too late, you’re already in the crowd on the dance floor.

How great you had a drink or else you’d be having an anxiety attack right there right now.

“No need to be nervous i just want to get to know my brother’s best friend, okay?”

Is he a mind reader?

“I’m not nervous.” but you still can’t look him in the eyes.

“That’s what i like to hear.” he lets go of your waist, so you can dance freely. But he isn’t going anywhere.

“Loosen up, no one’s watching.” You meet his eyes and something gives you more confidence. Or maybe that’s just because Gasolina is playing.

You loose it. You go down. Your hips move the way you didn’t even know they could. You grind agai- you what? You start to become more aware of your moves, but as you look around and see how other girls dance, it’s nothing weird or unusual.

“You seemed to be out of it for a sec.” A.J says with his usual smirk and teasing tone, as he draws you in closer by your waist. Wow, he’s still not touching you inappropriately, which you kinda expected after your dance.

He made you more comfortable now, you let your hands go around his neck.

“Like this?” you say as you meet his eyes. Why does your best friend’s brother has to have the prettiest shade of blue as his eye colour?

“Just like that. You can still move your hips into the rhythm, you know. I’m not gonna call you a hoe just because of the way you dance. I know you too little for me to judge you so early.” he says with a smile.

“Jeez okay.” You say as you chuckle.

Song changes. You stop because you lost the rhythm. Both of you look to the d.j booth where Tej is looking at you two, he smiles to himself. Then picks up his mic again.

“Everyone get your ass to the dance floor or im leaving.”

You roll your eyes again. You should really stop doing that. You hear the beat drop. Sexy Bitch. Of course.

A.J leads you to get a drink with him. You should be responsible one, you’re the one who’s supposed to drive everyone home. But somehow you can’t just refuse him.

You feel yourself getting drunk. Maybe even more than A.J himself. Where even is Brian? Oh he’s too busy spending ‘quality time’ with his girlfriend.

You lost track of time, but you know you’re with A.J dancing. No idea how can you dance without falling.

A.J notices this, he chuckles and holds you closer as he nuzzles into your neck.

“Wanna go outside?”

Fresh air. He’s good. He can actually read you.

“Absolutely.”

You let him take your hand. Why in the world are you letting him to take your hand? He leads you outside, right to your car.

He places his hands on your hips to lift you up, so you can sit comfortably on the hood of your car.

“I think this is the first time you touched me anywhere but my waist.”

“You notice the way i touch you?”

“Well yeah.”

A.J looks up at you. His usual smirk. Again. And if he thinks it’s gonna charm you he’s wrong. Maybe.

He pulls out a cigarette pack out of his pocket, a lighter from his other. He puts the cigarette into his mouth, hands the lighter to you.

“Mind helping me out?”

You nod and light his cigarette. No man has a right to look this good when smoking.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You ask out of curiosity. It’s your first proper talk anyway.

“I’m here for the summer, going back to school after.”

“Oh. Like the whole summer?”

“Yeah? Do you mind?” he asks sarcastically.

“No sorry i think the alcohol’s getting to me.” you look down at your feet. “You know you were great today.” you quickly add; “I mean the race-”

“I don’t wanna hear it, i was told that too many times today, it’s annoying honestly. And don’t act like what you did on your way here wasn’t a competition with me, i’m not dumb, you know.”

“I know.” Wow, you’re that obvious. Wanting to impress him with your racing skills.

“You’re good tho, can’t lie about that.”

“Thanks, i have raced ever since the- you know.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, we’re here to have fun, alright?”

You nod. Look up. Down again.

“Wanna go for a drive?” A.J says as he sits on the car beside you. “Honestly you look like you need to get out of here or else you’ll explode or something.”

A drive?

“I can’t drive, i’ve had too many drinks-“

“Who said something about you driving m’lady?”

He needs to be stopped with those names.

You smile a bit, and you throw your car keys to him, which he catches and smiles back.

You get comfortable in the passenger seat. Refreshing to not be the responsible one. He starts the car. Your phone connects again. All the stars start to play.

You’re exhausted. From what even? The party? And you’re in a car with a person you barely know. Perfect.

He seems like a good person, honestly. If he’s like Brian, you like him.

You feel his hand on your thigh, you want to punch him and scream to immediately put it away but he’s not being inappropriate with you. You exhale.

“Where to go princess?”

Princess. He should keep his mouth shut.

“You know the roads. Just somewhere. Anywhere.”

A.J nods, starts the engine and drives onto the road. His hand stays on your thigh as if it’s the most natural thing.

“So y/n, one fun fact about you.”

Hell no, he’s going at you with fun facts. But you’re too drunk not to answer.

“I know how to drive a car ever since i was like 7. Your turn O’Conner. Fun fact about you.”

“I was told i’m a real good kisser.”

“Kisser? You wanna impress me with you kissing skills? What are you? 10 years old?”

“Can you just shut up.” He leans over to you and kisses you. But not like a peck. Like full on make out sesh. I mean what to expect from a racer boy.

Is it the alcohol? You don’t know. But you hate the fact that you actually enjoyed it.