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drenix004 · 1 year

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Blue | Dee [02]

❝𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 ⁝ He never thought he would like the color blue so much, nor that it was enigmatic, like the girl who wore it in her hair, to the point of having his attention. He was an enigma calling him to solve it, and he never left anything unsolved.❞

warnings: mention of alcohol, drugs, death, obsession, sex among others, if you do not feel like it!

rating: 18+

pairings: Dee x female Oc

¡English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes, don’t hesitate to correct me.!

-I have the slightest hope that your tiny brain has learned everything. -Lena looked at her indignantly.

They were both standing in front of the school, attracting the attention of some who had arrived early, one for her gothic-vintage attire and the other for wearing clothes that didn't fit the place or the moment.

-I'll surprise you what I can do when there's weed involved," she crossed her arms, her chest heaving.

-I told you to come more demurely," she sighed as she received more attention, especially from the hormonal teenagers who wouldn't take their eyes off the older girl. All she wanted was to go unnoticed, was that too much to ask?

-It's the best I could find in my closet.

The younger girl touched the bridge of her nose, gathering all the patience she had. And come on, this morning she had woken up in a bad mood and to top it off she hadn't eaten a bite. Who wouldn't be mad at her for not eating?

Bringing a low-cut mini-dress and heels is not the most appropriate attire for a school, you idiot.

-What a sourpuss you are, you're going to die alone," she ignored what he said, the younger girl stuck out her middle finger. Let's go, the faster we get in, the faster we can get out and I'll go smoke my joints.

Lena went ahead, being followed by the younger one, who had some distance. A grimace appeared from time to time whenever the older one smiled and winked flirtatiously at the teenagers who were watching her.

The whispers were not long in coming, and soon word began to spread that a sexy woman in somewhat revealing clothing-a bit of an exaggeration, but it was the hormonal ones who exaggerated things-was walking the halls.

-How awful, how could anyone come in those clothes, she looks like a tramp," whispered one fifty-something lady to another, oh yes, there were also certain horny teachers, they were the ones who exaggerated things the most.

Lena heard such a whisper so she stopped walking and turned to the two women, a strange smile appeared on her face as she approached.

-Careful with what you're going to say," warned the blue-haired woman, she didn't want any mistakes, more than the ones she already had so far.

-I only intend to speak civilly-she passed by her side, standing in front of the two teachers-Good day ladies, unfortunately your vain attempt at whispering reached my ears and I only have two things to say. First, if your time is past, that's not my problem," the women opened their mouths indignantly, "and second, whether or not I'm a tramp is none of your business, you envious bitches.

Lena went back on her way with a smile on her face, the blue-haired woman followed her again in silence, a silence that lasted for a few minutes until they finally reached the secretary, who told them that they would be with the rector in a few minutes.

-I come back and repeat: I hope you've learned everything-Lena rolled her eyes, fed up with the subject.

-You worry too much," she grabbed the younger girl's nose, who slapped her away, "a good sex would take away your stress.

-Tsk, don't touch me," she snorted. Lena giggled as she managed to irritate the blue-haired girl, took out the file she kept between her breasts and began to shape her nails. It was better to concentrate on that than to engage in further conversation with the contrary for the simple fact that it made her a nuisance to have to listen to her comments full of irony, sarcasm and above all cruelty.

He was a little devil, a little blue devil.

-You can go on now, it's that door," announced the gray-haired man, who had served them before, pointing to the second door to the left of where they were. They both thanked, getting up from where they had been waiting, when the youngest was about to knock on the door, Lena had gone ahead opening the door, entering while earning a bad look.

Good morning…-the rector, who should not be more than forty-eight years old, stared at them when he took his eyes off the computer- Ladies-cleared his throat-I am Gregori Volkov.

For the youngest did not go unnoticed the look the man gave to Lena, she narrowed her eyes looking at the slightly nervous behavior of the man, besides the rare tension that was placed.

Between them something was going on and for some reason she didn't like it, she felt that trouble was coming, trouble that would most likely give her migraines.

And she hated migraines, she hated them with all her being.

-I'm already regretting this," she muttered under her breath. Lena had pulled her out with the excuse that she had to talk adult things with Gregori.

Something was definitely going on between those two and that could mean trouble.

She sat in the chairs outside as she watched the others walk by, each time they looked at her she gave her a death glare back causing them to quickly move away.

She was in no mood to socialize.

She stared somewhere on the floor deep in her thoughts of how to survive the prison called high school.

What if she studied virtually? She wouldn't have to socialize or make excuses for missing or arriving with injuries to classes. That sounded like a great idea, a wonderful idea.

But… She had made a promise, and she kept them, well, tried to keep them in most cases.

Why commit to something you know you're not going to keep? Then they would look bad and ironically promise not to fail again when they clearly did.

Was it some kind of psychological masochism? Feeling bad about not following through, but still doing it. It seemed like an irresistible plan calling you to continue that endless cycle of promise-deception.

Or was she being extreme? Maybe she was, but she was sure the painful emotions she felt when they did the same to her were real, very real to the point of leaving her with a crisis. heck, that's where her distaste for promises came from.

Ah, the human and his double standard behavior with its selfish touch, maybe everyone deep down was a psychopath, that would explain why the world is the way it is.

It was an easy choice for something so complicated.

-So if you came! -she snapped out of her thoughts when she recognized that voice. -I left my house earlier to see if I could find you! Even my parents and brother were surprised-ah, it was the red-headed blabbermouth from the other day, what had he said his name was?

The redhead sat next to her, prattling on about how her routine had been that morning-difficult, to be sure, to get there earlier.

She wasn't paying attention to what he was saying, she was more focused on remembering his name. Her eyebrows were furrowed because she couldn't remember his name? She had a good memory and the word metal echoed in her head. She remembered that his name started with h.

His mind soon clicked, there was a genre of Metal that started with h, and it was heavy.

-Heavy-the name coming from his lips stopped whatever the redhead was saying.

You remembered! -she smiled to such an extent that her cheeks hurt- Dee was teasing that you wouldn't remember my name- well, it wasn't too far from the truth.

-Yes.

-You don't have anyone to show you around, do you? -Heavy answered for her, "I can help you, I wouldn't mind skipping physics class, that old lady hates me.

He chattered again without letting her talk, so she resigned herself, listening to the incoherent things he said, he was someone weird, but it was also nice to listen to him from time to time, especially for those crazy stories they said.

"Promise me you'll try to have a normal life" the memory of that conversation came to his mind.

He looked at Heavy again, maybe it's not all that bad, just maybe.

"I promise."

The door next to him finally opened, Lena stepped out smiling before approaching.

-Oh, so you've already made a friend. -he touched her head to tease her- I thought with that sour old face you won't even get the time of day.

She slapped his hand to stop him from touching her.

-Anyway, it's all settled now. We'll talk at home -she emphasized the last word- have fun in this jail. She winked at the red-haired man, who looked at her strangely, before returning to where they had entered.

-What a strange woman? -The redhead broke the silence, "Is she your mother?

-No.

She answered firmly, life had spared her from being the daughter of that crazy woman, although her mother was not exactly the best figure.

-Here again, boy? -The Rector came out of the office seconds later. -What did you do this time?

What did you do this time? -protested the freckled one, "I haven't done anything? Not yet.

The man sighed before looking at the blue-haired girl.

-Take her to room 3-c for her chemistry class. - He pointed at Heavy-and I don't want to hear about you skipping physics class again.

He walked back into the office.

-Damn it! -he grumbled before looking at her-at least you're in Dee's classroom. Come on, it's not too far.

Heavy grabbed her wrist and pulled her along with him, explaining to her where certain classrooms, the bathrooms, the courtyard and the cafeteria were. She didn't complain, just let him guide her.

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¡if you have questions about this story or anything else don't hesitate to ask! i like to answer your questions!

#dee #glam #heavy #victoria #romance #metal family x reader #metalfamily #deexoc #dee x reader #rock #heavy metal #metal

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its-an-obsession · 2 years

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Labyrinth

Stranger Things Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Summary: Being Billy Hargrove's ex-girlfriend wasn't something you'd like to be known for. Thankfully, after finally recovering from the relationship with Billy, you and Jonathan Byers found one another, and he's a constant reminder that he is the opposite of your ex.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/F/E/M: Your Favorite Eighties Movie

Charlie -> Your Sister

Warnings:

Slight language

Toxic relationship (doesn't go into detail)

Jonathan Byers x-readers

(Third Person View)

Y/N and her grandmother sat on the couch, watching her little sister for the evening. Her parents were gone for the weekend to attend some high school reunion. Billy and Y/N were to go to the movies later after Billy had a shift at the mechanic shop. Y/N's grandmother would stay for the rest of the night while Y/N goes out with her boyfriend.

A honk sounded from the end of the driveway. Y/N stood up from the couch to grab her purse beside the couch. "Have fun, love. We'll be here," her grandmother said. Y/N smiled and hugged her before kissing the top of Charlie's head. Y/N quickly left and headed to Billy's Camero.

She knew he'd get impatient if she was even one minute past their pick-up time. Billy didn't even meet her at the front, nor did he open the passenger door for her. "What movie are we seeing?" she asked, setting the pocketbook on her lap. He shrugged and pulled out of the neighborhood. Y/N held onto the armrest as he sped down the street.

Billy wasn't one to obey the speed limit. He often blamed it on the different limits in California. Y/N sighed, looking out at the sun. "What was that sigh for?" he asked. "Nothing. Just tired," she answered. He whipped down another street after surprisingly waiting at the light.

He never seemed to care about Y/N's feelings. She sometimes wondered why she was even dating him. Though, you can't blame her. At the beginning of their relationship, he appeared harmless. He presented himself as most guys she's dated before. He even had that smile that charmed every mom that came across him.

A fifty-five speed-limit sign caught Y/N's eye. She looked at the dashboard. The speedometer said he was going seventy miles. A few minutes passed, and he pulled into the parking lot of the theatre. "Oh, Tommy and Daniel are going to join us," Billy grabbed his wallet from the console.

He stepped out of the car, preventing her from answering. "Wait, What?" she said. He rolled his eyes and fixed the collar of his jacket. Tommy and Daniel got out of their car. Both of them were laughing to themselves.

It only hurts this much right now That was what I was thinking the whole time Breathe in, breathe through Breathe deep, breathe out

Y/N's so-called boyfriend walked over to his two friends. One of which used to be Steve's friend, up until Steve broke it off with Tommy and Carol. "Look at this pretty little thing," Daniel smirked. Billy put an arm around Y/N's shoulders, pulling her roughly against his chest. She faked a smile.

The four of them walked into the theatre and chose Fright Night. Billy's girlfriend wanted to watch Y/F/E/M, but neither of the boys wanted to. Billy sat between Tommy and Daniel while Y/N sat on the end. She glanced to her right to see Billy pull a blunt from his pocket.

Since the teens were sitting at the very top, Billy thought he could do anything. Tommy reached over and handed Daniel the lighter before giving it to Billy. Y/N rolled her eyes with crossed her arms. She looked at both exits to see if anyone would be coming through.

"You want one?" Daniel gestured the blunt towards Y/N. He held the lighter in the other hand. She shook her head and looked at the movie screen. "Bitch doesn't smoke. I keep telling her it won't fucking hurt her," Billy scoffed. She watched him as he ignored Tommy and Daniel's loud laughs. Y/N looked around the crowd to see if she could find someone she knew.

She hoped her best friend, Jonathan Byers, was in the audience with his brother Will. They would frequently see horror movies together. The trailers appeared before the movie actually began. Y/N hugged her arms, snacking on her favorite candy. She desperately tried to ignore the strong smells coming from the three boys.

I'll be getting over you my whole life You know how scared I am of elevators Never trust it if it rises fast It can't last

Y/N leaned forward to see what Billy was doing. Of course, his attention was on the blunt and the screen. Y/N glanced down at her watch, seeing that it was 5:30.

If she could sneak out, she'd be able to call one of her friends to swing by. The credits began playing, an eerie and unsettling melody in the background. Tommy snickered at something Daniel or Billy muttered. Y/N slipped her arms through the sleeves of her soft cardigan. She grabbed her purse and set the strap around her shoulder.

The boys were facing the opposite direction of her. She crouched and walked down the steps. Thankfully, the darkness of the theatre covered her figure. She sighed in relief when she exited. Y/N looked behind her every once in an awhile before spotting a phone booth.

She dropped some coins into the slot and dialed the Byers' number. Y/N leaned against the side. Her fingers fiddled with the long cord, her eyes focusing on the theatre door she came through. "Hello?" Jonathan greeted.

"Johnny, it's Y/N/N," she said. She heard him tell his mom that it was me calling. Y/N could already picture that cheery smile on her best friend's face she loved. They've known one another since they were in fifth grade. "What's up? Everything okay?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she replied, "Could you come to Hawkins Theatre and pick me up? I'm not feeling well and just want to come home."

Jonathan said of course and hung up the phone. She escaped through the theatre's entrance. It didn't take long until Jonathan appeared. He parked the car beside Y/N with a smile on his face. She noticed Will sitting in the back. He wore his favorite blue and red shirt.

His older brother glanced at him and then up at Y/N. He raised his brows and smiled. "Hey," he greeted (GIF Above), "Sorry. Will wanted to see you." Y/N waved to Will and sat in the front seat. When she stepped in, here came Billy and his uninvited buddies trailing behind.

Y/N shrunk in the seat with a hand covering her face. Jonathan glimpsed at the rearview mirror to see Billy heading over. Jonathan tore out of the spot and headed straight to Y/N's neighborhood. Y/N couldn't help but smile at Jonathan's constant reassurance that everything would be okay.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love Oh no, I'm falling in love again Oh, I'm falling in love I thought the plane was going down How'd you turn it right around

During the entire ride to the Y/L/N household, Jonathan told Y/N that he wouldn't let Billy bother her. He knew the two of them had been in a rough spot lately. Will would chime in occasionally with a witty joke or a cute story about DND. Afterwards, the two hung out in her room while Will and Charlie played some card games.

______

(Y/N's Point of View, a few months later)

My back rested against the thick tree with my legs bent. After school, I decided to relax outside and catch up on some reading. My grandmother challenged me to try and finish six books by the end of the year. Jonathan had joined in as well, claiming that he could beat me. I was on my fifth book, and he was on his fourth.

So, it's pretty clear who's going to win. The wind brushed against me, causing goosebumps to rise. Charlie laughed as her Barbie 'flew' through the air. She ran around the yard singing to herself or speaking to her dolls like they were real. It's been a few months since the breakup with Billy.

After I left him at the theatre, it was difficult to even get a word in when we spoke the next day. Jonathan insisted on being there when I broke up with Billy, but not in the same room. He actually hid in my room while Billy and I spoke outside. My reading was interrupted by a car pulling up to my house.

It only feels this raw right now Lost in the labyrinth of my mind Break up, break free, break through, break down

I pulled my attention away from the book. Jonathan parked his car in the driveway. He had on his favorite green polo and tan khakis. "Hey," he greeted, plopping down beside me. "What're you reading?" Jonathan shrugged off his jean jacket. He folded it beside him and leaned against the tree with me. I kept a finger on the page, showing him the cover.

"Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt," I replied, "Nancy recommended it."

He nodded and took the book from me. Jonathan flipped it to the back to read the summary. "She's always got good recommendations," he said. I nodded in agreement and looked out at my sister. Charlie had made herself comfortable on the tree swing. She pushed her legs back and forth.

I had to tell her to not jump off a few times. Just a few months ago, she broke her arm from jumping too far. Even though she vowed to not do it again, we knew she would eventually. Charlie was eight, after all, and eight-year-olds don't typically listen. I set the book beside me when Jonathan handed it back. He set an arm around me. I smiled and rested my head against his shoulder.

You would break your back to make me break a smile You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back Just like that

I noticed Charlie lean back on the tire swing. "Ah, don't!" my voice was loud as I pointed a finger at her. She smirked mischievously and stared at me as she launched herself off the swing.

Her knees met the ground before jumping up. Her hands sat on her waist, her green eyes staring back at Jonathan and me. "Oh, you little...." I cut myself off when I jumped up from the ground. Charlie screamed and began running around as I chased her.

"Don't let the monster get you, Charlie!" Jonathan hollered, cupping his mouth. I turned to him with narrowed eyes. He grabbed his jacket and hid underneath it. Charlie looked up at me, her blonde hair slightly covering her eyes. I knelt before her and pushed the strands away from her pale face.

I tilted my head towards Jonathan. The corners of her mouth lifted when she caught on. "I think Johnny wants to play Duck, Duck, Goose," I said quietly. Charlie gasped and ran over to him. "Goose!" she screamed and whacked his head. "Ow-What!" Jonathan replied.

Charlie was a blur as she ran around the tree. You could practically hear her giggles from down the street. The two of them began chasing one another around the yard.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love Oh no, I'm falling in love again Oh, I'm falling in love I thought the plane was going down How'd you turn it right around

A smile crept onto my face while I watched Jonathan play with my sister. Other than Steve, Jonathan had a way with kids. It made sense why our parents would pair Jonathan and me when someone needed to supervise their kids. Charlie squealed when he picked her up.

She was covered in grass. Her blue overalls were stained with mud and whatever she had for a snack. I noticed a few sticks and leaves stuck in her hair. Jonathan set her back to Earth and took the sticks out of her tangled locks. "Mom's gonna hate brushing her hair later," I commented, walking over to the two of them.

Charlie wrapped her arms around my waist, rubbing her head against my stomach. Jonathan looked at me with a wide smile on his face. "What?" I asked. My sister rested her chin on my stomach, gazing up at me. "Nothing. You just look really cute," he replied.

I felt my cheeks turn to a light shade of pink. Charlie shifted her eye line to me, then Jonathan. "Grody," she muttered. She took her arms off me and stepped over to the Barbies that were left on the porch stairs.

My mom walked out of the front door, wearing a pink and white apron. "Jonathan, care to stay for dinner? We're making your favorite," she winked. He opened his mouth to say something, but Charlie interrupted and claimed he'd love to. My mom ignored my sister's response to see what his response was.

"Yes. I would love to stay for dinner," he spoke for himself.

Charlie cheered. She waved her doll around, falling back. I could hear my mom curse when Charlie's hair collided with the grass. "Charlotte, why don't we get you cleaned up for dinner?" she called, using my sister's full name. My curly-haired sister sat up straight and shook her head in disagreement.

As on cue, my grandmother barged through the front door and grabbed Charlie by the arm. She shook her head as Charlie tried to get me and Jonathan to save her. "I'll call you two when dinner is ready," mom said, "Y/N, your dad should be here soon." I nodded and sat down against the tree.

The two of us grew quiet. We listened to the birds sing and the crickets chirping. The sun was just beginning to set. I could feel the Summer wind coming in for the night. Jonathan draped his jacket over me once he saw me tense up at the gust. "I think Charlie has a crush on you," I mentioned.

He laughed and shook his head. I turned to him with a grin on my face. "She does not," he denied. "Oh, she totally does," I argued playfully. Jonathan shoved my arm before covering his head so I couldn't hit back. Our laughing died down, which left the two of us just staring at one another.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love Oh no, I'm falling in love again Oh, I'm falling in love I thought the plane was going down How'd you turn it right around

My mind immediately went to how my life was complete hell before Jonathan and I had gotten closer. It was weird. It was almost like one bad thing made us come together. Of course, the monsters from hell intervened at some point, but that's besides the point.

This whole thing reminded me of how scared I was of falling in love again. But I also knew that the person I loved was different from the first. I knew that Jonathan was the complete opposite of Billy. He reminded me of that every day. Jonathan would go out of his way to get me things he'd thought I'd like.

I mean, the other day he bought me my favorite candy and tickets to one of my favorite movies at a local drive-in. "I think I'm falling in love with you," I said. Jonathan smiled. His hand sat on the side of my face. He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead before lightly kissing me on the lips.

"I'm falling in love with you, too," he said.

Taglist: @b-ritney @ramaalkayyali @midnightstar-90

#netflix stranger things #stranger things #stranger things season one #stranger things season two #stranger things three #stranger things four #jonathan byers #jonathan byers imagines #jonathan byers x-reader #jonathan byers fluff #Charlie Heaton #Charlie Heaton x-reader #Charlies Heaton imagines #Spotify

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alyosiuscreightonward · 2 years

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Dear Diary. It’s been a few days now since I last spoke. Had to spend time with the family and do that whole St Patty’s Day thing. Yeah, I had some Guinness. So rich. So good, but I didn’t finish it. I felt my addiction issues were knocking on my door and so I just stopped and left the remainder on the table.

Lots of talking about life and all the advice that was given by them did me no good because they weren’t actually going to step up. Yeah, I’d like to move but who’s going to make that happen…? Y’all chipping in…? You know what else? A good therapist can cost how much for a fifty minute session? Yeah.

I did have a moment or two but I just started to breathe and it took a lot to calm down and center myself. Sigh. I spoke to a good friend and she said, “Better living through pharmacology.” True. When she said that, I remember that Nembutal and Carbatrol and a few others…🫣…that was the kind of pharmacology I liked. Quaaludes… The good old daze. Yeppers.

Meanwhile I knew that the universe was talking to me. I absolutely knew that something was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I was talking to another friend and on February 16th, she said that hospice care was being set up for another old friend who we used to run the streets with and that’s all I’m saying about that. Anyway, during this time, I did it again, I reached out to my friends and got little or nothing back from them. Damn it. “What got me all riled up?!” I thought, Jesus H Fucking Christ!!! You said that at any time I needed you, you’d be there and you weren’t. Just stop. Don’t.

I’m not that stupid. Life gets in the way. Look Motherfucker, I’ve been (warning you since…) actually waiting for you since…and I know that you’ve got shit going on and I just stay over here. I just started my meds and I have to go with the flow and see exactly how they are working out. I am quite well aware of how much we love each other and how hard we work on being friends and that’s really hard work. The cliché is right there, it’s either “…I sold my soul to the company store…” or “…that’s the sound of the men working on the…” and I also know quite well that “…we’ve been close but people grow and they sometimes grow apart…” and also we do reconnect and it’s a beautiful thing that we need to cherish. I have a great meme that talks about how checking in on someone is a glorious moment. I say hold it tight and enjoy the moment. Have it so close that you can close your eyes and replay that exact scene over in your mind for years to come.

The message I received was that on Thursday, March 16th was the funeral and it was really very messy. Oh, honey child. I do declare. Hot shitty boo boo mess. Let’s start with Exxon Valdez and now East Palestine. Yeah pretty much. When I heard that I knew all about “…how many good friends I’ve already lost, how many dark roads I’ve been down and how that can make a person blind…” I personally don’t want to be that person. I know that I’m needy and I want to say, PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!! Listen to me you Swinging Richard, anger and resentment will suck you dry. A soul crusher.

Also I know very well that I can be like a vacuum and I can literally suck the joy out of you. Also I can be a great friend who can help by distracting you from things for just a second and you like it. I do make every attempt to be a good friend. Call me day or night and if I’m there, I’ll get in my car and do my best to come to your emotional rescue. However I will always reach out to you first and ask you if you��re available to talk and allow me to vent and not cry about, in retrospect, absolutely nothing. I rarely just call you out of the blue.

Though when I heard about the funeral, the first thing that came to mind was that I’ve made plans to get together with some friends from high school. It took some planning to make it happen but it’s on. I also know that I can and I will continue to teach you how to be vicious, caustic and acidic. You think that your pussy has teeth? Bitch please. After I’m done, you’re already chewing on your ankle in the bear trap trying to get away from me. My tongue is so sharp it can and will clip the hedges. No need for a weed whacker, just let me at it. Well within that grey area, I can easily love you like nobody else. If for one second you think your family or friends are going to love you like I love you, then you’re sadly mistaken. Trust. I’m like that Trollope, Goldilocks, I can give some, I can give you the best of my heart or I can give you a tear in the time continuum where you never existed.

Then again you may not ever know how much I beat myself up for being a douche canoe. I have destroyed a few people and their lives. One guy was supposed to love me but he was a whore and he fucked and got sucked by men and women. If it had an orifice, he’d probably put in there. I promptly went on a rampage and the guilt I felt afterwards, I ended up on a 72 hour watch in a hospital. Then there was another guy who I had loved but I knew he was not for me and I thought we had that understanding. I had helped him out by telling 5-0 that I felt that there assistance would not be prudent at that moment because he could be charged with something like solicitation and I was not going to allow that to happen. Anyway, we spent some time together and I told him that I loved him and he apparently took it the wrong way. I turned on him. Absolutely no remorse. Again, the guilt I felt. I went down and almost died. I sincerely tortured myself. Sigh. In the past few years, I learned he was alive and doing well. The mutual friend said that he had no use for me and could not care any less than he already did not care if I was dead or alive. Plus I’ve fucked up shit and then it hit me: NEXT??!! NEXT??!!

Now that the tables are empty as are the chairs, we must take a moment and be there. Fuck me. Empty chairs. Empty tables. Don’t. Just learn the difference between friends for the road and friends for the heart. Dude. At the same time, you should also consider that there are so many people who fall into the category of being a friend for a reason, a season or a lifetime and I then think about the first woman who I loved. I still love her but I learned a very hard lesson and I’m better for it. I randomly text my first boyfriend because I can. We’re good now.

I really don’t care about your excuses. If you’re going to be a good friend then do it.

#dear diary #i wrote this for me #lgbtq #bipolar depression #inside my mind #my words #my writing #no your not the only one #pity party #ramblings #reality stranger than fiction #self love #vomiting #wnq writers #writers on tumblr #journal #self help #self loathing

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 9

Summary: It’s a year since you moved to Boulder and joined the law firm, and the girls take you out to celebrate.

Warnings: Language, Smut (NSFW, 18+).

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N; Make the most of the fluff...as next chapter, shit is going DOWN.

W/C: 5.3k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 8.2

It was your first year anniversary with the firm and as in tradition, Eva and Amber wanted to take you out to celebrate. If truth be told, you seriously couldn’t be bothered. It was a wet, rainy Friday evening at the end of April and you would have been quite happy at home on the couch with a bottle of wine and Andy.

Things between you and Andy had progressed since Christmas, despite your fears that your incident with the Thrombey-Drysdales had pushed him away or would have ended the two of you. If anything, it appeared to have pushed you closer. Close enough, as it happens, for you to suggest he move in with you when the lease on his apartment was due for renewal at the end of March. A proposal, after some thought and a very honest conversation between the two of you, that he’d been happy to accept. "I'll only be gone an hour, tops," you explained as you slipped into your jacket. You glanced out the living room window, your Uber pulling up.

“Angel, I don’t care how long you’re gone, but I really wish you’d let me drop you off.” Andy watched you as you moved around the room, grabbing your purse and phone. "Tell you what, you can be my ride home," you kissed him softly and chuckled as he pouted. “BB, you just got in and the Sox game is on." “I could have recorded it,” Andy shrugged. “But okay, I accept your terms. Call me when you want me to come pick you up.” "Deal," you kissed him again.

“Do me a favour though,” Andy looked at you, a smirk flickering on his lips, “enjoy yourself. And don’t come back after an hour, that’s just fahkin’ pointless.” You rolled your eyes, "we'll see."

He grinned, “plus the game won’t have finished in an hour, you’ll fuck up my viewing.”

“You're ridiculous," you giggled, opening the door, Andy right behind you. "See you soon, Counselor." “Yeah,” Andy replied, his eyes flicking to the tv, “stay safe, love you.”

"Love you."

It wasn’t a long ride into town, and you walked into the bar to find Amber and Eva already waiting for you. "Ladies!" You greeted with a smile. “Just in time!” Amber smirked, “I ordered you a beer too.” She gestured to the glass which sat in front of the spare seat at the table. It looked inviting, despite the weather. Alright, you sighed to yourself, why not. "Cheers!"

The three of you made conversation for a while, chatting about anything and you were surprised to find that by the time you actually caught sight of your watch, you were already fifty minutes and two beers into your specified hour.

You bit your lip and reached for your phone, tapping a quick message to Andy, asking him if it was okay if you stayed for longer before you stopped.

You didn’t need to ask permission. You licked your lips, quickly reworded your message to state you’d be longer than originally thought, before you tossed your phone down on the table and glanced up to see Eva and Amber watching you.

You rolled your eyes, “what?”

“Nothing.” Amber laughed, “so, has Andy unpacked all his shit yet or are we gonna be listening to you bitch and moan about tripping over boxes for all of next week, too?”

You laughed, "we're finishing up this weekend. He's storing most in the basement, so he says."

“Good,” Eva snorted, “all we’ve heard since he moved in last week is you complaining about his mess being everywhere.”

"So, is he like a leave the seat up and toothpaste in the sink type or what?" Amber added.

"He's oddly OCD and a mess," you smirked. "He's got his junk piles."

“Let me guess!” Eva laughed, “organised junk, and he can locate anything he wants in said piles at any given time.” "One hundred percent accurate," you drank the last of your now third beer. "It's only been a week, we'll adjust." “You guys have lived with people before anyway,” Amber shrugged, “not like you don’t know how it works.” You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, "yeah, I guess. It's just.... different, you know? Learning a new person, I suppose." You flagged the server down for another, now fourth, round. “You guys been together a while now.” Eva shrugged, “like what, seven months?” You hummed in reply, "yep. But, he was one of the first people I met here other than you two." “Exactly, it’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

“I’m not,” you laughed, “you guys are more interested in it than I am. Just like when you spotted he had taken his wedding ring off!”

"Uh, yeah, that was a huge fucking deal," Amber's voice grew a little louder than expected.

“Not to us,” you shrugged, “it felt right for him and that’s that. Anyway, why are we discussing this? It happened months ago!”

Eva smirked. "You're so in deep," she joked. "No? What gave it away?" You playfully bantered back. "Uh, the fact that you glow," Amber smirked, titling her glass toward you. You scoffed, "I do not. That's the alcohol. I don't glow." "Girl, have you ever stepped outside of it and looked at how that man looks at you? Jesus, I'm beyond jealous. Mike does not look at me like that," Amber laughed. You felt your cheeks heat a little, as you couldn’t truthfully deny that. You often caught Andy looking at you with a soft expression on his face that made you feel like the most precious thing in the world. At that point your phone buzzed and you picked it up, glad of the distraction. It was the man himself. You played at the smirk over your lips, trying to hide it.

“Awwww is that him?” Amber teased, “you’ve gone all doe eyed. He sending you messages about all the dirty and highly delightful things he’s gonna do to you later?”

"If by dirty you mean laundry, then yeah,” you sat back as the waitstaff placed a fresh round down. Both Amber and Eva laughed.

“Less than a week in and the passion is already starting to wane…” Eva sighed dramatically, “next you’ll be picking out swatches to redecorate and-“

“Look, can we please talk about something else other than my relationship," you cut her off with a chuckle." Anything else...."

Eva jokingly whined, "but why? We live vicariously through you AND Andy!"

“Then you both need to get a hobby.” "That would be boring," Eva winked. Lacking hobbies aside, the night kept on and soon you were drunk. Not just drunk, but about six beers in drunk and barely able to text Andy to come get you.

Instead of messaging you back, he called.

“Hiiiiii!” You greeted him

His timbre chuckle made you warm. "Angel..."

“I’m drunk and I need to come home.” "I'll be there in ten minutes," Andy told you. "Don't wander, honey." “How do you know where I am?”

“Because you text me about half hour ago.” Andy laughed, “unless you’ve moved?”

“Noooppe.” Faintly in the background you heard a blip or a beep, you weren't sure, but it might have been Andy's car unlocking. "See you soon," he chuckled. "Okay, byyyyeeeee," and you cut your call. "Did a ride? Need a ride?" You corrected, looking at the girls. Eva snorted, “yeah I do but not the type you’re referring to.” "Fuck off," you slurred a bit. Your feet were a little unstable under you. Then you gasped, “shit,” you somehow managed to operate your phone to call Andy. “Angel, everything okay?” “Yeah, you need to come in my car, Amber and Eva…” “Already on it.” He replied, “it’s raining hard so I figured they might need a ride.” “God you’re so… nice.” You sighed. "And really handsome. And tall, and big...like huge" Andy let out a sigh followed by a laugh, “you’re trashed.” "And you're hot." “Well you’re not so bad yourself, honey. Now, just stay where you are and I’ll be with you all soon.” You sighed, "Okay." “Hey,” Andy spoke, “I love you.” "I love you too," you smiled into your phone. “Yeah, we love you Andy…” Eva moved and spoke into the hand set, making smooching noises. "Oh my god, stop it!" You laughed. Andy chuckled as he cut the call, swinging a right as he turned into the main road which would lead him through to town. It had been quite a while since he’d done the whole dutiful, chauffeur routine. He drove through the downpour, taking a little longer than his promised ten minutes but making it nonetheless. He found you and the girls waiting at your table still, the bar slowing down around you. He watched as your face split into a lopsided grin as he approached. His hand dropped to the back of your chair and he leaned down to give you a quick kiss.

"Hi," he smiled back. He looked between you and your partners in crime, "ready?" “Sure you don’t mind?” Amber hiccuped, “coz we can totally get a cab.” "Absolutely not, I don't mind," Andy held up a hand, "I don't trust those guys in weather like this." “God he’s like a real life knight in shining armour isn’t he?” Eva snorted, “or in this case a wool coat.” “I like that coat.” You smirked. "A lot." “Alright, ladies.” Andy shook his head, “come on.” Andy followed you all out the door and towards the spot he found close to the doors of the bar. He was thankful for your remote start, so with just a push of a button, he had the car running, warm and wipers on. He opened the door for all three, making sure they were in and buckled. It was such a dad move but he wasn't taking chances. Luckily, by now, he'd gotten to commit both Amber and Eva's addresses to memory and found his way across town and back, first stopping at Amber's; Mike her husband chuckling loudly as he helped her in and waved off Andy. Next was Eva’s, her partner Steve was away on business so Andy saw her through the door before making his way back to the car. "Well, home we go," you grinned as Andy buckled up.

“Yeah.” Andy smiled as he reversed out of Eva’s driveway. “You had a good time?”

"Great time! Thank you again for letting me go out." The way you answered him kept him puzzled and his brows frowned just a little, unnoticeable in the dark.

"Angel, stahp will you. I wanted you to have fun. I've been a pain in the ass this week with all my shit all over."

“No but like thank you. Thank you for letting me have friends so I can hang out with them and stuff.” Andy’s hands gripped the wheel a little tighter as he realised now what you were getting at. And it all came down, once again, to how your prick of an ex-husband had controlled and hurt you. He glanced at you and took your hand, kissing the back of it. His bristly beard soft against your skin. "Anytime, honey. But you don’t need my permission to do any of that. You’re your own person, you can do as you please.” "I like that." “You like what?” Andy asked as he swung back out onto the main road. "Doing what I want. It's like.... Fun." Andy tried not to think on what you said too much, it made his blood boil. When all was said and done, you’d been with Ransom for less than a year. And he had ruined you. It killed Andy when he thought about it. "You know what else is fun...." you carried on. Andy couldn't help but chuckle a little at you, "what, honey?"

"You. You're fun."

"You're gonna have a lot of fun when those drinks wear off." "Oh yeah?" Andy glanced at you again, your grin evident in the light from the console. “Yeah, you’re gonna be so hungover.” "Oh, nooooo. I thought you meant like you know.... Fun, fun like we did the other night fun.” A drunkenly, flirty giggle escaped your throat as Andy squeezed your hand.

“As great as that fun was the other night, you’re gonna be in no for state for anything like that. Water and bed when we get home.”

You groaned, "yes, sir." Eva didn't live far from your condo and as the rain began to dump harder, Andy pulled right into your half of the garage. He came around and helped you with a gentle hand out of the car. You made your way inside, Andy watching as you slumped on a stool at the breakfast bar, a grin on your face. “Hungry?” He asked, his hand cupping your face.

"Mmmhmmm," you slowly blinked, turning into his palm.

“Help me out here, Angel.” Andy chuckled. “Want me to make you something or do you wanna go to bed?” He glanced at the clock, it was approaching half eleven. "Grilled cheese?" "Oh yes!" Andy nodded, filling a glass with water before he placed it in front of you and set about making you both a grilled cheese. He set the hot sandwich in front of you and watched you take a big bite, moaning loudly as you chewed.

"I don't get it, it's a freaking cheese sandwich and yet you make it the best. How?! How is that possible?!"

“Many years of living off thirty bucks a week at college.” He smiled back. "It's my favorite thing you make for me," you admitted. "Have I ever told you that?"

“Several times.” Andy smiled, taking a bite of his, “which kinda makes me wonder why I have ever bothered with those nice steak or pasta dishes.”

"Oh I like fancy too, but" you somewhat stumbled on your words, "I'm simple. I like it when you cook. Your ass looks great!" At that Andy blinked before he let out a loud laugh, he loved this side to you. So damned playful, even if you were drunk. “My ass looks great? What has that got to do with anything?”

“When you cook and you reach for things and you move around… always with the wiggle.�� You sighed. “I like your ass.”

"Oh Jesus," he tossed his paper napkin on his plate with a laugh. His hand cupped your face again. He watched as your eyes slowly blinked.

"Andy...."

"Hmmmm" "I'm sleepy." “Okay, let’s get you to bed then. Come on.” "Okay," you said softly.

He stood by as you scooted from the stool, wobbly heading for the stairs, his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you. Once he’d managed to get you to the bedroom, he left you to it in the bathroom as you needed to pee. He heard the toilet flush, then the sound of you brushing your teeth, then…

“Angel?” “I’m just taking my make up off.” Came the reply and Andy nodded to himself, happy you were okay. He pulled back the covers as he waited on you to come out. He stripped down and slipped into sleep pants and a tee, just pulling the material over his head when the bathroom door opened. He chuckled as you'd stripped of your clothes, your bra and underwear the only thing covering you. "Angel?" "I was hot." As he watched you reached round to undo your bra, tossing it to the floor somewhere and Andy couldn’t help it as his eyes raked up and down your body, meeting yours which flashed darkly, beneath the alcohol cloud. And then you yawned.

Andy moved over, pulling one of his tees out of his drawers and walked over to where you were.

“Arms up, baby.” He smirked smugly as you held your arms up, looking as if you were waiting to be picked up, and he slipped the soft cotton over your body.

“Speaking of baby,” you spoke, as your head emerged through the neck hole, “Amber and Eva kept saying we would make a pretty one.” "Did they?"

“Yup.” You sighed as his hands gently gripped your waist, yours sliding up his neck. “Can you imagine? Little beautiful bearded babies.” "I don't think it works that way, Angel." “They’d be real cute.” "Yeah yeah they would." Andy swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to keep his face straight. It wasn’t like he had never expected this sort of conversation to crop up but certainly not now.

But you were drunk. So… “Andy I’m sorry…” you whispered, clearly having spotted the expression on his face and he cursed himself a little. "Hey," he spoke softly. "It's okay. Don't apologize"

"I... I should go to sleep," you locked your lips. “Yeah,” he nodded, “let’s get you settled and then I’ll go make sure everything is locked up.” You crawled into bed and hugged your pillow close, your cheek resting on the top half. "Night, handsome." His hand gently pressed between your shoulder blades as he leaned down to kiss your head, “night Angel.” Andy dimmed the lights and headed down, cleaning up the grilled cheese mess and locking up the doors, engaging the alarm. When he stepped back into your room, he noted the way you were already breathing evenly, your mouth tipped open in a light snore. Inhaling deeply, he stepped into the bathroom to ready for bed.

After sorting himself out, he closed the bathroom door and slipped in between the sheets, his hand gently brushing your hair back from off your face, where it had fallen as you’d slipped into your slumber. "Goodnight, beautiful," he whispered. ***** When you woke, you weren't sure the time, all you knew was that your head was pounding and you hated light. With a moan, you turned your head and looked for Andy. He wasn't in bed, not unusual, for he was an early riser like your usual self but you could tell he'd recently showered as his strong, woodsy smell permeated the air around you.

And a shower sounded like a damned fine idea. Begrudgingly, you slowly sat up, a groan and wave of dizziness washed over you. You glanced at your nightstand, the time now clearly mid-morning, and beside your clock, a glass of water and two aspirin sat. Tossing back the pills and swallowing the entire glass of water down, you stretched and stood. With your head pounding, you padded into the bathroom. Your mind flashed back to the night before, in particular Andy’s exceptional grilled cheese… but other than that, most of it was a blur. "Fuck," you sighed. It'd been quite sometime since you'd drank that much.

Twenty minutes later, feeling markedly better but still like downright shit, you dressed in your lounge shorts and a tank top before heading down the stairs. Andy was sat on the sofa, dressed in a pair of navy lounge shorts and a grey tee. He was reading through something on his IPad, no doubt the morning news although his brow was furrowed. When you walked over to him, his eyes shot up and he smiled. “Morning. How you feeling?”

“Like shit.” You groaned, flopping onto the sofa besides him. He hastily moved the IPad away and you frowned. “What is it?” “Just the Financial Times…”

“So why are you looking so shady?” “I’m not looking shady…” “Andy, I’m too hungover to argue.” You groaned. “Show me.” With a sigh he handed the IPad over and your own eyes widened as you read the headline. Top East Coast Real Estate Mogul Goes Bust

The article was accompanied by a picture of Linda Drysdale and you raised your brows.

"Can't say I have sympathies to give." You handed back the tablet and led back in the soft cushions. “No, me either. Full disclosure, there was some stuff in there about Ransom and you as well but…” Andy sighed, “nothing much, just a mention of the court battle over his assets.” That didn't make your stomach feel any better. "Great..." you rolled your eyes. "The dead never die." “Isn’t that a Game Of Thrones quote?” Andy turned to you and you snorted. “Almost, that’s what is 'dead may never die' … same thing.” You leaned over to give him a soft kiss. “Anyway, enough about them. I’m sorry if I was a pain in the ass last night.” "Hardly," he leaned in for another.

"From what I can remember, I was, so, sorry," you sighed. "And thank you for the tender care, you're a big softie you know that?" Andy smiled, “well, I gotta take care of my best girl haven’t I?” "I suppose," your cheeks warmed. Then you cringed, "Did I say anything stupid?" Andy wrinkled his nose, “not specifically. You told me you liked my ass. And that I had a nice ass…” he hesitated for a moment, “and apparently we would make beautiful bearded babies!” At that your breath stopped, your heart ceased and your eyes deadpanned on his. Then with a groan, you buried your face in your palms, your realization coming. "I'm so sorry." You mumbled into your hands. "I'm never drinking again." “Angel, don’t worry about it.” Andy shrugged as you flopped backwards with a groan, your back collapsing against the sofa, feet flat on the cushion, legs bent. “I’ve done and said some real dumbass shit when drunk.”

At that he tapped your knees and you extended your legs so your bare feet were in his lap. His right hand curled over your shin, thumb gently tracing shapes on your soft skin. “Now, are you hungry? Want some coffee?"

“Hmmm, you know, I can’t decide if I’m thirsty, hungry or horny. Or maybe all three.” You flung an arm over your eyes and sighed.

A lowly chuckle came from his end of the couch, "well... I can help with all three."

You eyes peeked out, "pray do tell" “Well, there’s plenty to drink, plenty of food… and I got plenty of ways to help you with the other issue.”

You raised a brow, your arm now above your head, "I might need a demonstration. You know to help make up my mind." “Yeah? Well whaddya want first?”

You pondered, "Hmmmm, I'm feeling a bit parched." Andy laughed, "You want orange juice or apple or water… cool aid? "Water, please."

He tapped your shin and you lifted your legs. In moments he left you and returned with a glass of water. You hummed happily as you sipped. His eyes were heavily on yours.

"What?"

Andy smirked. "Nothing," he laughed, "you’re just absolutely ridiculous at times and I love you for it." A cheesy grin showed your teeth and you set the glass on the coffee table, "Now, what were these other ways to deal with my third dilemma?" "Oh we’re skipping straight to the third?" He squeezed your calf.

You flexed your feet, "Yes, food can wait." Andy arched a brow and you looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing I was just gonna make a very immature joke about having something I can give you to eat but I’m not gonna because that would be extremely childish.”

"And you're not a child, far from it, right?" You sniggered.

"I’m forty one, and a respectable Defence attorney. Absolutely far from it." He now cheesily grinned, knowing full well he was fully of it himself. You scoffed, "Whatever you say, Counselor."

Andy shifted, your feet falling to the cushions as he crawled over you, keeping his weight on his arms. “I’m not the one led here like a whiny brat, crying about being hungover, now, am I?”

"Doesn't make me a child," you scrunched up your nose.

“I never said it did.” "I seem to need some lovin', cure this sick feeling I have.” You quipped.

Andy chuckled and leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. “Can’t have you love sick as well as hungover now can we?”

"No," you whispered and shook your head, "it wouldn't be fair." You smirked against his lips. “I’m all about fairness, honey.” He muttered, kissing you again. He balanced his weight over you now on one arm as a hand slid up your tank, his fingers grazing your bare skin at your side. Your own arms slid up round his neck, fingers grazing his hair line at the nape.

Andy gave a little grunt as his thumb graced the underside of your right boob, the realization you hadn't a bra on. His kiss crossed your cheek and over your jaw, along the bone up to your ear where you squeaked as his lips touched that spot that made you quiver, his nose nuzzling it too.

As his tongue laved at the column of your neck, his knee slotted between your legs. Pulling back just enough to grip the hem of your tank, Andy expertly pulled the item over your head, laying you bare from the waist up beneath him. Wanting to feel him against you, you tangled your fingers in his shirt, tugging it up slightly. Taking the hint, Andy reached up and fisted his hand in the material just behind the collar, yanking it off and tossing it to the floor somewhere.

As he caged you back in, his medallion ran along the valley of your breasts, the metal warm against your skin. Your hands slid over his broad back, feeling his muscles flex and twitch as he leaned down, his lips back on yours as he kissed you, this time deeply, his tongue softly gliding over your bottom lip. You dropped your jaw, your lips opening to allow him access. His tongue rolled over yours, his hand not weight bearing cupping your breast, his thumb rolling over your hardened nipple. You arched into his touch, shoulders pushing into the soft cushion of the couch, a soft moan of pleasure rolling from your throat. He chuckled against your kiss, capturing your moan as if he were stealing your breath. "Tell me," he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.

“Want you…” you rasped as you caught his lips again, “please, baby.” A smirk softly splayed a over his pouty lips, his free hand coming away from your breast and sliding under you, between your back and the cushion, pushing you up against his chest as he sat back on his ass. His hands remained on your hips, thumbs digging into your soft flesh as your own cupped his face, your nails dragging through the soft whiskers on his face. "Fahk," he ground. His hands swiftly gliding along your back, bracing you against him as he leaned into your breasts, his beard and tongue a deep juxtaposition against your fleshy mounds. You ground your hips into Andy as he tasted your skin, nipping at your nipples, pulling them a little between his teeth.

“God,” you stuttered, your head rolling back as the sharp tingling of pleasure began to fire all through your body. Your nails raked down Andy's back as he kept at you, and you rolled your hips in wider, deeper rolls, the pressure of his clothed, hard cock against your clit delightful. From bracing your back, his arms now moved back to your hips as he controlled your rolls, a grunt of pleasure coming from him as he slipped his large hands beneath the waist band of your sleep shorts, your ass filling his palms. He gave a squeeze and you moaned. “You gonna make yourself cum like that, baby?” Andy’s voice was a sultry, deep timbre as his lips brushed against the swell of your breast, tracing a path up your neck, teeth softly grazing your heated skin.

"Yeah," you whined, "oh fuck." You kept at it, Andy still palming and squeezing your ass as you rolled your hips more. You could feel the outline to the head of his cock, that little edge nipping at your clit. "Right there, Angel, you like that?” He wondered. Your response was a squeak of a moan as you felt the heat in your belly beginning to bubble down into your groin.

Andy flexed his hips upwards, strong hands pulling you down further into his lap, all the time rocking you against him, the friction driving you crazy. “Andy, I…” “Let go, Angel…” his lips brushed your collar bone as you shuddered on his lap, your legs almost cramping as your muscles seized up in pleasure.

You came, with a gasp, eyes widening as Andy pulled back to look at you, his beautiful blue orbs shining with lust and love as he watched your face. Your head tipped back, your lips opened as you let go like he said, a cry of pleasure coming out of you. You shuddered in his lap, one hand of his coming away from your ass and flipping that waist band to his own lounge shorts, his hard cock freed at last. He was leaking and so hard. He held his cock steady as his other hand reached under you, sliding your shorts and panties aside. His tip poked at your entrance and with a smooth movement, he pushed into you, gently pulling you down onto him, groaning as he felt the gentle flutters of your ebbing orgasm.

He nipped at that space between your neck and your shoulder, before taking his hands to cup your cheeks. "Jesus, Angel." “I told you, I was hor-oh, holy shit…” you broke off with a groan as he tilted his hips up wards, your hands resting on his shoulders. His lips caught yours in a sloppy, filthy kiss as his hips continued to push up and pull back, in slow, long rolls as opposed to thrusts.

"Don't stop." You pleaded. It felt way too damn good. The combination of how swollen he was against your walls at this angle had you feeling each ridge and vein.

“Honey, I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to,” his words were punctuated by his ragged breathing, his lips skating across your jaw, his beard tickling your skin.

You could feel that tell tale throb he was close against your walls. You were pulsing against him right back, a delightful back and forth conversation between your core and his cock happening deep inside you. Your bodies were hot, sticky and small beads of sweat were visible at his hairline. You were quickly working up a heat hotter than the Colorado summer. Your hands moved to cup his jaw, bringing his lips back to yours as the pads of your fingers planted once more in the whiskers of his beard and you felt him tremble against you.

You could tell he was fighting it, desperate to get you there before him, and his hand moved down between you, fingers brushing your clit. You came again, with a soft cry of his name. Your walls clamped down around him as the familiar humming filled your ears, your body pulsing with pleasure. And as your body trembled in his lap again, your hands grated through that beard until you were chest to chest, your lips at his ear, "cum." Andy was two shallow ruts behind you. His plump lips parted, a whispered breathy moan of your name rolled from his mouth as his head pressed to yours, hands holding you close

As the two of you breathed in one another's exchange of air, your foreheads touching, you whispered his name.

Still blown eyes looked at yours from under long lashes. "Hmm."

"I want pancakes."

A breathy chuckle shook his chest as one hand remained pressed into your back, the other went to cup your face, his lips pecked yours, "Pancakes it is.”

**** Chapter 10

#consciousness of guilt #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #reader insert #defending jacob #chris evans #chris evans characters

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poguestvff · 3 years

Text

Used To The Cold — S. Cameron

In which Sarah Cameron comes to a realization after her girlfriend moves across the country.

taglist | main masterlist | 2.0k words

warning(s): none, fluff, i heart sarah <33

Have you ever lost something that held either so many memories or brought a sort of happiness that just warmed you immediately even at the sight of it? Most people have something like that. Such as for children when it comes to losing stuffed animals or action figures that were a source of comfort, they missed it like hell. Said children grow up and look for a new source of comfort. Some teenagers found it in weed and alchohol, others in sports. For Sarah Cameron, she grew out of the beautiful pink blanket her father had gotten her as a toddler. As she grew into a teenager, she found a new solace.

Her girlfriend.

Sarah made it very apparent to show her love to her girlfriend who, at one point, was just her best friend who she could hardly even bare to be away from. Sarah had known she'd loved Y/n before they even got together by the way Sarah had never felt claustrophobic in the friendship that she held with the other girl. She said the three words within the first six months of being with her, words she had never spoken to another being other than her family. It was a word she, personally, took seriously. For her to say it to Y/n showed the amount of trust she held within her. Trust to not feel so closed off with Y/n.

At the beginning of the relationship, Sarah was glad that not much had changed between the two of them. That Y/n let her have her space whenever she needed it without the dependent need to be together all day though it quickly became backwards. Sarah grew even more clingy to Y/n, hardly able to deal without her hands being stuck to her girlfriend like glue. Whenever they went out to lunch, Sarah played a one sided game of footsies that only brought a smile upon Y/n’s features, one of Sarah’s favorite traits about her. Sarah loved the idea of always having a person to call her own, Y/n seeming to be the one person who could bring out her newfound touchiness. Though, sometimes she pondered on whether Y/n herself was even handling it or if she just ‘put up’ with it. If she did have an indifference towards Sarah’s actions, she surely never showed her disinterest in it.

Though the last time Sarah had held on to her girlfriend felt soul crushing and gut wrenching. As the two of them stood on the creaky, wooden dock just before the ferry, Sarah felt drained. Between the amount of crying she’d done in just the past few days had been enough to make her want to sleep forever and the comfort of her girlfriends arms around her hadn’t helped that feeling. Tears held a steady stream down both of their faces though Sarah was the one who was unable to contain her sobs. People passed around them, solemn looks given to the two of them as they listened in on the sniffles and soft wails.

Y/n didn’t need to be a genius to understand that this was twice as hard for Sarah as it would be for her. Y/n was leaving, miles away that Sarah couldn’t even pin on when the next time she’d being able to hold on to her would be. All she knew was that this embrace that Y/n held on her would be the last one for months and there wasn’t a thing that would be able to make up for it between now and then.

It evoked an indescribable sort of fear within Sarah but she knew it was immutable. If Sarah could, she'd even drop her whole life within Outer Banks to follow her girlfriend across the world. There wasn't much Sarah wouldn't do and there wasn't much Y/n wouldn't do for Sarah either, including the moving date having already been pushed back a month because of Y/n's several arguments with her parents.

"I don't want you to go." sarah whispered as y/n kissed her neck. She could hear the blonde's pained and wavering voice, how affected she already was even as Y/n hadn't even stood on the boat yet.

"I know, lover." the y/h/c girl spoke in a low tone, only sarah able to hear her words of affirmation. Y/n was first to pull back, placing her hands on Sarah's cheeks. The sight of Sarah with puffy eyes and a quivering lip made y/n's heart throb and a guilty feeling blanket over her like a raising tide. "i'll visit. Every chance I get, you know I will."

"It won't be the same." she lamented. Y/n placed her lips against Sarah’s, delicately as if the blonde were made of porcelain. When Y/n's parents had called for her and Ward and Rose had called Sarah away from the dock, Sarah only seemed to want to cling further, fingers pressing further into the thin jacket Y/n worse, but their time had finally run out. Even after weeks of pretending that they had all the time in the world, like nothing could pull the two of them apart, it had happened.

The first few weeks, the whole Cameron house had known Sarah spent most of her nights crying herself to sleep and the entire Y/l/n house knew Y/n was not going to be speaking to them for a little while due to their newest decision. Both groups of parents hadn't known that pulling the duo away from one another would become such a quagmire for each of them.

When Y/n did finally decide to talk to her parents, it was usually to say she was leaving to explore the area in which she refused to get to know the first few days. With a driver license, it gave her just a bit of freedom from her parents who's impromptu decisions had still caused for a tearing in their familial relationship.

Y/n sat in her parked car, a hot beverage in hand to adjust to the cold in which she'd just stood in for five minutes. All of it for a drink that wasn't even that good in her opinion but she dealt with it. With the hand not holding the steaming drink, she opened her phone, smiling immediately at the photo of her and sarah as her background. She unlocked it, scrolling around to find Sarah's contact and setting her phone up against the dashboard. While it began to ring, Y/n situated herself to begin to drive. "Hi, Y/n/n!" Sarah shouted excitedly the second she'd answered.

At her tone of voice did Y/n laugh. The enthusiasm was no surprise but it was funny to Y/n every time. "Hi, baby." She replied, fhe smile remaining on her face as she looked towards the screen. Sarah sat at her desk, her hands under her jaw though a pencil between her fingers. She had focused all of her attention from the papers in front of her to the driver on the other end of the phone. "What are you doing?"

The sound of whizzing paper had made Y/n glance to the phone seeing a math sheet now replacing Sarah's face before she placed it back down, a frown appearing on her features. "Math."

"Didn't you just start like two days ago?" Y/n asked, taking a sip from her drink.

"Yes and this teacher is an absolute bitch. You're just lucky you don't start for another week. You would hate Mr. Henley."

Y/n let out an awfully dramatic gasp. "Um, hello, Mr. Henley was literally my home room teacher last year, I'll have you know. Show some respect." She said, almost missing Sarah's chagrined look as she smiled.

"You're supposed to be on my side here."

"Sorry, i don't believe in biases, Sar." She joked for sarah to let out a small snicker.

"So tell me, how's minnesota?" Sarah asked, trying to spark up a conversation even if the distance was the same thing she wanted to keep her mind off of.

"Oh, it's so great. So many hot people." she remarked.

"You're not funny, no one has ever found you funny." Sarah replied though unable to hold in her laugh along with her girlfriend. "I'm serious. we haven't talked much about it and i don't want to like... avoid your new life now."

Y/n sighed, looking towards the phone to see Sarah looking back down at her work in front of her. "Fine. Well, it doesn't particularly suck. The no surfing part definitely does, though, but what can you do. And the coffee here... no, its just so bad, babe. granted, i only had one, and it's in my cup holder right now but it's gross."

"My coffee making is better, right?" Sarah asked as Y/n gave a hefty nod.

"So much better, even if it is the only thing you're good at making." Y/n laughed and Sarah attempted to refuse a smile, her cheeks quivering from trying to keep it down. "But the weather dropped today, randomly. It was seventy yesterday, fifty today but i think i'm getting used to the cold."

Sarah lifted her head back to the phone, watching Y/n focus on driving, her eyes diverting on places away from the screen. Sarah but at her inner cheek, drumming her fingers against the white wood that rested under her forearms. "Used to it?" Sarah asked. She knew Y/n's move was permanent at least until she was eighteen but something about those words made it seem more realistic. She was getting used to a place that wasn't home.

Y/n hummed. "Yeah, i'm probably being dramatic. I saw a guy walking around in a tank top and shorts while i'm wearing double pair of socks right now." she grinned at her own comment though picking up on Sarah's sudden discomfort when she replied with a small 'wow'. "Lover?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Y/n asked, the car slowing to a stop at a red light.

Sarah quickly shook her head. "No, it's nothing. Just... the work. Keep your eye on the road."

"Sarah." The blond recognized the tone of voice quickly.

"Just... I just fully realized how permanent this is. I won't see you until, what? December? That's a long time, Y/n! And, i get it, it's your home now and i can't do anything about it but—"

Y/n was quick to cut her off. "I never said this is home. Sure I live here but it's just a couple walls and a roof. It's not home, Sarah." Y/n began. "Home is you. And trust me, i've been missing home the second i got on that ferry."

Despite them having to look at one another through a glass screen the feeling—the connection between the two of them was still felt. Sarah could feel the normal warm feeling she would've gotten whenever Y/n would simply hold her hand or brush her hair over her ear. she held that much of an effect on Sarah in person and somehow even thousands of miles away.

Sarah hadn't even realized she had been staring for a total of twenty seconds until a singular tear fell down her blushing cheeks. she quickly sniffled, recomposing herself as she wiped it away. "Are you seriously making me cry right now?" She muttered with the way the atmosphere had become though relishing in the way Y/n laughed in response.

"Yes, thank you for ignoring everything i just said, lover." Y/n put the car back in drive as the light went green. Due to the steets being relatively empty in her new small town, she took the time to look back over at the phone to Sarah. "I love you."

Sarah's smile widened in thag very moment, pursing her lips before pushing them out. "I love you more."

"And don't worry. I won't get to used to it. I'll be back home, to you, before you even know it." Y/n took a small glance to the phone, enjoying Sarah's gaze that showed even with the distance put between the two of them, they'd be fine.

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank #sarah cameron fluff #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron #obx imagine #john b routledge #pope heyward

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Making Memories: Ch. 6

Day 6: Home/Purrs

AO3

Marinette stares at the homework on her desk, not even attempting to read the words on the page. Her dad had called her out of school every day for the last week, giving an excuse that she had a fever or something like that. She wasn’t sure on the specifics. She’d get the details when she was finally able to go back. Unfortunately, she still had several broken ribs that weren’t quite ready for her to go trekking across a school for eight hours a day. Well, that, and the bruises on her face were still way too prominent to cover with makeup. A knock on her door brings her out of her thoughts that had started to darken yet again.

“Come in.” She sighs, tapping her pencil against the desk anxiously. She glances up and furrows her eyebrows, smiling at Harley despite the confusion. “Harley?”

“Hey there, kiddo. I came to see if you wanted to get out of here for an hour or two. Eat some junk food at my apartment?” She suggests. Marinette frowns as she scans the woman’s face, realizing the real reason she was there.

“You’re gonna make me talk to you, aren’t you?” She asks. She didn’t need to talk to anyone. The most she’d talked was to Jason right after she woke up and he almost ran off to kill someone. And that would just lead to a big fight between her dad and Jason and she didn’t want to be the cause of that. Not now. Not ever. So she wasn’t going to talk to anyone about it, she didn’t need to. She was fine. Perfectly fine. There was nothing wrong. Harley raises an eyebrow.

“I was gonna offer to listen if you wanted to talk, but I really did want ya to come over and eat some junk food. Selina says you’ve barely left your room this week, kiddo. Figured a place that wasn’t full of people might be a nice escape.” Harley says with a shrug. A little voice in her head says that Harley doesn’t actually care, because she’s nothing. It sounds like the Joker, because of course it does.

“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of homework.” Marinette frowns, glancing back at the paper. The font was awful, and it made it fifty times harder to read. But she’d rather sit here and struggle through that than talk to Harley about the Joker.

“Then bring it with. I could help you. Even I can tell that font must actual torture on you. Who the hell chooses something with that many loops for a school assignment?” Harley teases, glaring at the offending paper. Marinette’s lips twitch up into a small smile.

“Okay. But only if we don’t talk about any hard topics.” She says. Harley grins.

“Sure thing, kiddo. Math isn’t really my strong suit anyway.” She says with her wide grin. It takes a second, and then Marinette snorts before full blown laughter is falling out for the first time in a week. The laughter starts to die down, but instead of disappearing completely, it turns to sobs.

“Oh sugar, that’s not- can I hug you?” Harley asks softly. Marinette nods, unable to speak as she sobs, mentally yelling at herself the whole time. This was okay? This was fine? This was why her family kept giving her those pitied looks. This was why she’d had to stay home for the past week instead of going to school or out in public or anything. Marinette sits stiffly in Harley’s hug for a beat before she wraps her arms around the woman in return. Her ribs scream in protest at the sudden movement, but she can’t bring herself to care. It takes a couple minutes for the sobs to dissipate, and then she’s leaning away from Harley and wiping at her eyes furiously.

“I’m sorry.” Marinette mutters, not trusting her voice to be any louder. Harley tuts.

“Don’t apologize for crying, ever. It’s a completely normal human response.” She says with a worried frown. “Kid, have you talked to anyone about what happened?” Marinette stiffens.

“I talked to Jay a little bit.” She says. Harley nods.

“Okay. And how much of that did you censor so he wouldn’t go put a bullet in the son of a bitch’s head?” She asks. Marinette winces. “That’s what I thought. Listen pumpkin, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. But I want you to know that while my license may have been revoked, I still take patient confidentiality very seriously.” Marinette frowns.

“You want me to use you?” She asks. Harley huffs.

“It’s not using me, kid. It’s the fact that if you wanna talk to me as your therapist vs your cool Aunt Harley, I won’t tell anyone else any of what you say. Unless I think you might be a danger to yourself or others, the laughing fucker not included in the others category.” Harley says matter-of-factly.

“I’ve never been to therapy.” Marinette admits, standing and moving over to sit on the couch, tugging her knees up to her chest. Harley waits a moment before moving over and sitting on the other end of the couch, criss-cross applesauce.

“Is it something you’re really, totally against? Cause we don’t have to do this.” Harley says.

“No, and I wanna stop breaking down all the time. I just-” Marinette pauses, huffing. “It’s so damn hard to find a therapist when you know you can’t tell them everything.”

“Cause of the whole hero thing?” Harley prompts. Marinette nods.

“Yeah. Kinda hard to get rid of stress at therapy and talk about what’s bothering you when it’s a big secret.” She adds.

“I bet. Doesn’t the League have a therapist or something? I feel like they should have one of those.” Harley asks. Marinette scrunches her eyebrows, trying to think.

“Maybe?” She finally says, sighing. “I don’t know though. I don’t really have much contact with the League. I’ve been to the Watchtower once, but for the most part I don’t associate with that side of things. Dad thinks keeping the Miraculous away from them is the best bet.”

“And what do you think?” Harley prompts. Marinette frowns.

“I think he doesn’t want to have another teen vigilante to take care of. So if he can keep me away from the other heroes, it gives him more chances to keep me out of the whole hero loop thing.” She says bitterly. Marinette stares at her knees, suddenly stuck on that idea. “Does he not think that I can handle it?”

“What do you mean?”

“All of my siblings are vigilantes. But with me...he’s sent the others on League missions before. They’ve all been part of the Teen Titans at some point or another. And I know that I’m not a Robin, but does he not care about me? Do I-” She stops, her voice breaking. “Does he not care about me as much as the others?”

“What makes you say that?” Harley asks, Marinette glances at her and can tell by the way her jaw is clenched, it’s hard for her to not be hugging her right now.

“It’s nothing.” Marinette says, starting to shut down. This was stupid, of course he cared about her, the Joker was wrong-

“It’s not nothing. Not if you’re thinking it, and feeling like it’s true.” Harley corrects. Marinette huffs.

“I know he was wrong though.” She says. Harley quirks an eyebrow. “Crap, I mean-”

“You don’t have to talk about it, Marinette. But you also don’t have to lie.” Harley says. Marinette lets her shoulders slump.

“It was just one of the things the Joker said.” Marinette says, keeping her voice as soft as possible, almost as if she spoke too loud she’d be back there. As it was, the memory of him snarling it at her was starting to become too much.

“That your dad doesn’t care?” Harley asks. Marinette shrugs.

“Batman, actually. And that he would never actually care about me because I’m not a Robin.” She mutters. Letting out a shaky breath, she forces a smile on her face. “But it’s okay, cause he was wrong.”

“Sweetie, pushing away your negative feelings, not letting yourself feel them, isn’t healthy. You don’t have to do that anymore.” Harley reminds her gently. “Outside of being a therapist, do you wanna hear Aunt Harley’s opinion?”

“Please.” Marinette says, looking back up at Harley’s face.

“I think your dad sucks sometimes, when it comes to emotions. He doesn’t always say what he means, and his actions aren’t always the smartest. He does things before completely thinking them through, but it’s almost always because he cares. Sometimes, he cares too much and would rather put himself in a bad situation or one where people are mad at him, instead of letting someone else feel hurt or actually get physically hurt. Your little brother is Robin, sweetheart. You don’t have to be one. The need for a Robin is why each of your brothers became Robin. Not because Bruce wanted them to be. I actually think he would rather none of you be vigilantes of any sort. And the Titans were so that they could get used to working with partners that weren’t your dad. You’re already used to that. You saved a whole damn city by yourself. The Joker doesn’t know what he’s talking about, sugar. Never has, and never will. Your dad cares about you. You matter Marinette.” Harley says firmly. Marinette opens her mouth, then shuts it just as quickly as she lets the words sink in.

“Can I have a hug?” She asks. Harley nods, pulling her to her gently and rubbing her back.

“I’ve got you, kiddo.” Harley says softly. Marinette sighs into the hug, relieved that she doesn’t feel like crying right now, but also exhausted.

“Do you think you could still help me with my homework?” Marinette asks after a few moments. She sits back and frowns. “I know I should talk more, but-”

“But nothing. If you’re done, you’re done. No questions asked. Now what class is that homework for?” Harley asks, picking up the piece of paper before frowning at it. “Shakespeare?” She asks. Marinette nods.

“Yeah, I was doing a lot better in class where I could actually hear it read. I’ve looked for audio versions of it, but there’s not a No Fear Shakespeare version yet.” Marinette says. Harley purses her lips before her eyes light up, a huge grin spreading across her face.

“I’ve got an idea.” She says. Marinette frowns, but follows her as she grabs the book from Marinette’s desk and runs out the door, yelling for Jason and Dick. Marinette laughs when she realizes what Harley’s doing. Time to watch her brothers perform Julius Caesar.

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82-deactivated2021110 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial @unoriginalmess @maribat-platonic-november

#maribat #maribat fanfiction #maribat fic #MariBat PlatNov #MariBat Platonic November #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad au #maribat bio dad bruce wayne #maribat harley quinn #maribat jason todd #maribat dick grayson #maribat damian wayne #maribat tim drake #platonic dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic timari #platonic daminette

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artsyhobi · 3 years

Text

Cursed

Divine Gods!BTS x reader

series masterlist

Chapter one, Calico Cat.

characters: mortal!fem!reader, god of the moon!park jimin, god of the sun!jung hoseok, god of death and darkness!min yoongi, god of the four elements!kim namjoon, god of time!kim seokjin, god of nature and life!jeon jungkook, god of mischief!kim taehyung.

a/n: hello ! i hope you enjoy this first chapter, i actually took inspo from Goblin (which is a kdrama i absolutely loved ;;) and i'm sorry in advance for my poor writing, but english is not my first language ...

trigger warning: mentions of blood, violence and death, curse words.

tag-list: @greezenini, @fangirl125reader, @motherofbludgers

Min Yoongi sat on the throne, his legs elegantly crossed as he rested his forearms on the armrest. He slightly raised his left arm so that the tip of his index finger could lightly brush against his lower lip, his eyebrows mildly furrowed in a focused expression.

The black-haired man continued playing with his lip, then reached for something in the pocket of his silk pants and held the object in the palm of his hand: it was a vintage pocket watch entirely made out of gold, with a ruby located right at its center. The hands of the watch moved mechanically, producing a “tic” sound that resonated in his mind like an irritating echo.

Yoongi hated time. What was ironic, though, is that he had too much of it: he had an Eternity.

Yoongi glared at the antique object once more. A satisfied smirk appeared on the corner of his lips, depicting anything but an innocent smile. He stood up, adjusting his coat and grabbing his black bowler hat in a swift movement before taking some steps forward: as he walked, the dark throne room surrounding him became gradually more distant and, in a matter of seconds, the man was walking in the busy and snowy streets of Seoul. The snow crunched under the soles of his shoes, the snowflakes that landed on his coat immediately melted, and as he passed by, nobody seemed to notice his presence.

The street was crowded with people rushing to purchase the last Christmas presents, couples holding hands, and kids eating strawberry cotton candy. Disgusting, thought Yoongi as he curled his nose.

“One minute and thirty-three seconds.” He murmured to himself, turning into a deserted alley after checking the correct street name on a brick wall nearby. As he walked, the bright white snow became dirtier until there were just a few clusters of it on the side of the path. It started snowing heavier.

“Fifty-eight seconds.”

“I told you there were consequences!” A hoarse male voice shouted in the distance. Yoongi stopped hands into the pockets of his coat. “You’re a worthless bitch!”

There was a loud bang, followed by two others, and a feeble female voice asking for help. No one could hear her, and even if her cries reached someone’s ears, no one would help her since - according to Min Yoongi - humans were nothing but greedy mortal souls that enjoyed the sufferings of others. They were too occupied with spending their money on materialistic goods and developing toxic, violent, and possessive relationships. They were human beings but had no humanity left in their hearts.

He approached the poor woman laying on the ground, her hand resting on her stomach: blood was gushing out of her bullet wounds, dripping down in a pool of crimson absorbed by the snow. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered the same words over and over again, “Help me”.

He crouched down beside her and tilted his head, observing her like a detective inspected a victim. He knew that her time was up and that she was destined to die there, alone, desperately waiting for someone to find her.

“S-Sir…” She mumbled, some blood running down from the corner of her mouth. “P-please help me…” Her hand desperately clutched the hem of his coat, smearing it with her blood.

Yoongi sharply exhaled and rolled his eyes, turning his head to the side.

“Fancy seeing you follow me everywhere I go, Jungkook.” He stated, reluctantly standing up to face a man leaning against the brick wall, his arms crossed.

“Did you miss me?” Jungkook grinned.

He seemed almost like an angel since the clothes he wore were entirely white. His blond hair brushed against his shoulders, and a pair of long crystal earrings hung from his ears, sparkling as soon as they moved. Yoongi, on the contrary, was his polar opposite: his short wavy locks were as black as pitch, and although his eyes were a dull brown, they almost felt like looking into two holes, black as a night without stars.

“Seokjin sent me here to stop you from reaping her soul,” he affirmed, playing with the many rings he wore on his fingers, “It’s not her time yet.”

Yoongi scoffed, slightly amused at his statement. “Don’t you see the three holes on her stomach… Or do you need a magnifying glass? I am the one who decides if she dies today, not that Doctor Strange wannabe.” He took some steps toward him until his face was a few inches away from his, “I don’t take orders from a teenager.”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, the slight grin disappeared. “These are not my orders but his, and you know you must obey him.” He lightly shoved Yoongi’s shoulder without interrupting eye contact with him, trying to remain calm. He kneeled beside the woman and caressed her hair, a sad smile depicted on his pink lips, while Yoongi stared angrily at the two.

“Don’t even think about it, Jungkook, her soul is already mine.” He said through gritted teeth.

“It is, you’re right.” The blond whispered and delicately put his hand on the woman’s chest. “But not now, Yoongi, you will have to wait.”

“Wait!?” Yoongi exclaimed in disbelief, and then frantically ran a hand through his black locks, “This has to be a joke, is Taehyung with you?”

“He is not,” He responded as a gleam of light formed under the palm of his hand, turning brighter by the second, “I haven’t seen him in ages.” This time his tone was lower, and his expression had darkened. Yoongi nodded, having no interest in knowing what had happened between the two friends.

“I suppose you won’t tell me why Seokjin wants to spare her life.”

“He just told me to stop you, nothing more.”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “Lies,” he snarled, “you are his little obedient puppy, Jungkook, we all know it.”

Jungkook inhaled the sharp, cold air and smiled as the woman opened her dark eyes. “I’m not here to fight, Yoongi, so you can insult me how much you want.” The blond took the now conscious woman into his arms and glared directly at his former friend. “But nothing will change the fact that you’re on your own now.”

Yoongi turned around, ready to argue back, but there was no trace of Jungkook.

The black-haired man remained still as he watched the empty spot, sighing, a strange feeling at the pit of his stomach.

20 years later

“Chung-Ae, we’ve already talked about this!” You groaned in annoyance, sinking your face into your Pikachu plushie. “I’m happy here!”

Chung-Ae sat on the counter, her arms supporting her as she gave you a stern look. You peeked, escaping the protection of your plushie, noticing that she wore purple lenses - although her stare was as scary as it had always been -.

“You’re a twenty-two-year-old living in an old house, with your three cats, and working in a cat-café.” She emphasized the “and” as if working in such a wonderful place was something to be ashamed of.

“That’s the best life!” You exclaimed as you sat comfortably on your sofa. “I mean, why would I need to move to Seul with a bunch of horny people when I could just spend the rest of my life in peace?”

Chung-Ae sighed loudly.

“They’re not just a bunch of horny people. They are my friends.”

You parted your lips to respond, wanting to remind her about the last party you both had attended, but she cut you off.

“Y/N, you live alone in such an abandoned area, it’s dangerous; it even takes you more than an hour to reach the café.” She slid down from the counter and sat next to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, I know that you’re attached to this place, but it doesn’t work for you anymore.”

She was right, you loved that place. Your grandparent’s house was located in the countryside, in a small rural village that was scarcely populated. The few young people remaining had started moving to bigger cities such as Seul or Busan, but not you. You adored waking up to the sound of birds chirping in the morning and the gurgling of the river. You got used to being alone, and you didn’t mind it. You couldn’t understand why Chung-Ae tried to force you to move with her, but she was rather determined, and you knew she was going to insist.

“Chung-Ae,” you reached for her hand and squeezed it delicately, a small smile forming on your lips. “You know I can’t leave, I promised my mother I would take care of this house.”

“You have to stop living in the past, Y/N.” She firmly stated. “This house is falling apart, and so is your life. Moving to Seul with me is your best option.”

Her eyes stared into yours for a few seconds, and you felt unreasonably guilty. You knew how much she cared about you, and you were constantly giving her “no” as answers. She retracted her hand, reaching for her purse right beside her, before standing up. “You still have time to think about it. You know that, right?” Her hand was on the doorknob.

Your mind wanted to decline her offer, but your heart told you otherwise, so you just nodded.

“Take care, Y/N.” And with that, she closed the door behind her, leaving you alone once again.

You finally took a deep breath running your palms down your face in an exasperated manner. Chung-Ae was your childhood friend, and she had always been by your side. You had met her in elementary school: she was popular amongst your class since her father was a renowned lawyer who worked for big celebrities, but you - on the other hand - weren’t as popular. You weren’t a social butterfly and preferred spending your time playing with the stray cats in your neighborhood.

You stood up and walked toward the kitchen, deciding to make yourself a homemade chicken noodle soup. You put the ingredients on the counter and started to chop the carrots into strings. As you were about to grab something, you heard a strange noise coming from outside: you reminisced Chung-Ae’s words and felt a shiver run through your spine, but you shook your head, mentally reassuring yourself that it must have been a wild animal.

You grabbed the celery from the fridge, deciding that you would drink some strawberry milk while waiting for the soup to cook. However, when you closed it, you were taken aback by a calico cat sitting on the floor, right in front of you. Your eyes were wide open in surprise since your three cats were all black, and you crouched down. “Hello, little one,” you gently smiled as you observed the little creature staring at you with a pair of light blue eyes, “I wonder how you got in…”

You inspected the room looking for any open windows but soon discovered you had closed everything. When you turned your gaze back to the cat, it was gone. Puzzled, you stood back up, massaging your temples. Am I hallucinating? You asked yourself before resuming your dish.

After literally devouring your delicious meal and doing the dishes, you headed to your room, where you found the windows wide open. You didn’t remember leaving them like that, but you also didn’t mind the fresh breeze coming from outside. It was a quiet night of July, and the moon was shining vividly in the sky, its brightness being the only source of light in the room. As you approached your bed, you couldn’t help but notice the shape of a cat on the window ledge, but when you came near, it had mysteriously vanished.

"Okay, Y/N, you're probably tired." You told yourself while sitting on the bed. As you laid down, feeling the freshness of your newly washed sheets, you heard another sound and then a chorus of meows coming from the living room. You sighed, reluctantly standing up, wearing a hoodie before walking down the stairs.

"What is it, guys, did you hurt yourselves?" You asked as your three black cats, Luna, Mars, and Pluto, continued meowing toward the front door. You groaned, "Alright, I will check."

You weren't ready for what you were about to see: you expected nothing but pitch darkness or that calico cat that was apparently haunting you now. But as you opened the wooden door, you froze on the spot at the sight of a man leaning his arm on the doorframe.

Because of the darkness, you could only see his silver hair reflecting the moonlight and a pair of light blue eyes staring at you in curiosity.

"Hello, little one."

#bts ot7 x reader #bts series #kim taehyung x reader #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts fanfic #park jimin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader

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laketaj24 · 3 years

Text

Single in Staten Island: Tattoos & Kisses

Author’s Note: This is a three-part series I am going to do on Pete!! I am going to use the prompts I got in the second part! I talked with a friend about him—he does truly deserve a good girl or someone who won’t fuck him over. Taglist is here! Reqs are open, but I’m slow, no lie.

Warnings: None, just language.- Smut in the following parts.

Pairings:Pete Davidson x Reader

Masterlist

“What’s your order?” The chipper attitude they were supposed to have had left the day you turned in your two-week notice. This coffee shop had been the bain of your assistance. Fuck this place. Fuck these people and fuck their fancy, overdone ass orders. You leaned on the counter, giving the man in front of you a stern look.

He looked around. Clearly, you didn’t have an attitude with him. He’d just walked in the fucking place. “Uhm—,” his eyes found the menu, but there was an aloofness in him that triggered you.

“You’ve been in line ten minutes, and you don’t know what you want?”

“Yep.” He nodded and shot a smile. “Ten whole minutes. Still a fuck up.” His finger tapped on the counter, and he looked up at the menu. Nothing here looked worth seven dollars, especially not a coffee. “What’s good here?”

“Look, I don’t know. ”You sighed. “I’m about to go lunch, and you’re the last order.” You flourished the lack of customers behind him.

“You from around here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Your attitude is pretty fucked up; I figured you lived up the block.” He took a pregnant pause and chuckled. “An Everything Bagel, jalapeño cream cheese, and a grande black coffee.”

“What’s the name?”

“Pete.”

“Spell that.”

“You can’t spell Pete?”

“You from around here?” You quipped.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I figured your name is probably spelled all fucked up and shit.”

He laughed, which was not what you expected; you just knew this was the gasoline added to a shitty fire. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Kinda weird.” He shrugged. “You wanna go somewhere better than this on your lunch break?”

“Unless you have a gram and a beer, no.”

“I have a gram and some black coffee if the barista doesnt quit before she puts my order in.”

You snickered. “That’ll do. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but fucking Staten Island.”

The ferry. It hadn’t been in the plans, but you were happy you said yes to the lean stranger. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette in one hand a flask in the other. It wasn’t precisely beer, but you had no complaints. “You want a sip?”

“Sure,” You took the flask without hesitation and chugged down three gulps before passing it back to him. It was gin, dry grade A gin. “That’s the kind of shit you bring on a ferry?”

“I thought I grabbed my tequila, but I must’ve drunk it all.”

“Drunk at 2pm on a Tuesday?”

“I’m not drunk; I’m enjoying a drink. Judge much?”

You shrugged and turned, resting your back on the railing beside him, feeling the cool breeze run through your hair. “So why did you invite me out here?’

“You looked like you needed saving, and I’ve been there. Shitty job with shitty people.” He flicked his cigarette ashes into the water below him. “Plus, you cussed me out on the job, which means your kinda badass.”

“I like to think I am.” You admit and nod your head. “You ever get tired of doing the same old shit?”

“yep, that’s why I get tatted.”

Then you noticed the tattoos spackled across his body in random places, and they were once more in a random fashion. Yet, you liked them; they matched him, odd and somehow insanely attractive. “Pete, I want a tattoo. Take me to your guy.”

“What do you mean to take me to my guy? Does it look like I have a guy?” Pete laughs. “I’m like a god damn coloring book; let’s find the first shop and just do it. I pick yours… you pick mine. Stranger tats.”

“Why not?”

“Your boyfriend won’t appear and try to beat my ass?”

“Unless you’re imaginary, too, I think you’re good.”

‘Fucking Brickhouse like you, single in Staten Island?”

“Single in Staten island is not a rarity.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. It’s the only way to be.” He said with a bit of sarcasm.

The conversation was random the entire ferry trip; you made wisecracks and rebutted, flirting with you but keeping his distance. “Tell me three weird facts about yourself.” You twiddled with your fingers and looked up to meet his brown eyes. “I’m sure you have more than three, but spare me the rest.”

“I like to be alone.” Pete looked back. “But I love a good party, but when I go, I hang out alone and watch people. People are interesting as fuck.”

“I find them to be boring.”

“That’s because you’re not looking for the right things.” He pointed to the woman about fifty feet away from the two of you. The older lady sat tired, sunglasses covered her face while the gray hair blew wild in the wind. “See Gladys there; she’s about to go home to a man she’s been with for thirty-five years. The best dick she ever had.”

Your face radiated with heat as you suppressed a chuckle. “Has to be to stay with it thirty-five years.”

“You haven’t had someone dick you down that makes you want to stay thirty-five years?”

“Not even make me want to stay a week,” You answered.

“That’s fucked up.” Pete smiled.

“That’s life, Pete. Unfortunately, people don’t always get good dick like Gladys.”

“Yeah, lucky bitch.” His phone rang, and he shifted, digging in his light denim jeans to retrieve his iPhone and answer the call. “It’s Pete.”

You turned, giving him some privacy and taking it all in. You didn’t plan to return to work, fuck that place and everything it entailed. You started a new job in three days; you’d take these three days to not give a fuck. That feeling started today; it started with your new friend Pete and this tattoo. The call ended after a few minutes; he didn’t talk about much, just a conversation with a friend and plans he had for a party later tonight.

“The shop is about five blocks from where we get off. Have you decided what I’m getting?”

“I want to see the designs first; I want it to be memorable.”

“Make it your number.”

“Is that your coded way in asking for it?”

“Not coded, I swear.” Pete leaned closer to you. “I kinda think if we are gonna get stranger tattoos, we should have each other’s number.’

“We won’t be strangers then.”

“Call them something else then.”

“I’ll let you know if you can have this number later… I haven't got an invite to this party yet.”

“You're totally invited.” Pete tossed his hands up. “Give me three digits.”

“847.” You snickered.

“Good, I guess I can work for the next seven.”

The shop was grimy, with dark walls and low lights. The smell of weed and liquor hit your nose, and you felt at home for some reason. Your legs ached; the walking didn’t bother you usually but pairing it with walking didn’t do much good for you. You sat in the chair across from Pete. “Don’t make this a dumb tattoo.”

“You’re talking to the king of dumb shit.” He pointed to the small elephant; it wasn’t dumb, though. It had a feminine line design, and it was petite, adorable even. “I’m sparing you today. You’re getting this,” He smiled. “An elephant, not dumbo but a distant hot cousin.”

“I like it.”

“Good.” His smile was sincere. “I hoped you would. When is she up?” He asked the artist.

“I can get her now.” He answered as he started to sketch the elephant onto the transfer paper. “Hop up, sweet cheeks, and it’ll be about ten minutes.”

Pete extended his hand like a gentleman and led you to the red leather chair. ‘Ever had one before?”

“I have three.” You admitted.

“I see none.” He looked you over quizzically. “Not a one.”

“They are hidden….” You answered, choosing not to tell him they were down your chest and down your thigh.

“Secret tattoos. I like it. I can dig it.”

“Sure. Where is this party tonight?” You asked.

“Back in Staten Island.”

‘Can I trust you, Pete?”

“I hope so; I feel trustworthy?”

“You answered that like you didn't know the answer.” You shifted in the seat and pulled your shirt over your head. You revealed the tattoo of the moon phases going down your chest. “Just because you can't see something does not mean it isn’t there.”

“They're fucking awesome, like the person they are on.”

“You only think I’m awesome because you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.”

It was not like you to kiss a stranger because instead, you wanted to admit it or not, Pete was a stranger to you; you didn’t care. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, and he responded immediately, kissing you back eagerly. His lips were soft, full, and applying just the perfect amount of pressure to yours.

“You two want to fuck or get this tattoo.”

You exhaled, pulling away from him. “Can we do both?”

To be Continued.

@honestsycrets @pyschiccreationtaco @opalsandlacemain @battbeans @placeoffreedom @daddyavesxx @niamandthings @honeyel @locht3ssmonster @itslovengie

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson x you #pete davidson x black!reader #laketa j writes

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wtfevenismypage · 4 years

Text

Pro Fighter

request: Hi, i have a request. Spencer x reader or bau team x reader where she gets kidnapped but no one knows that she was trained in the red room. The unsub live streams it to the bau team and *cue the black widow interrogation scene from avengers (2012)* and they are just whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck lmao. The ending is up to you, sorry if the request is a bit messy.

Warnings: Fighting, Cursing, Shook team

A/N:Guys I’m so bad at writing fight scenes it isn’t even funny, i’m better at making peoples hearts ache from fluff or angst! But I tried my best! This definitely isn’t my best work btw

Shit.

You woke up with a booming headache and a sharp pain in your ankle.

Looking around, the light is dim. A single hung light-bulb on the wooden panels of the ceiling. The smell is horrible, but you know what it is once you look around. Dead cows dangling from the ceiling. Rotting.

A camera is placed in front of you. The unsub is either streaming to the dark web, or to your team. Probably your team to drag them into his trap.

“Well well well, look at you! Finally awake huh sweet girl?”

A low, raspy voice spits out, walking out of the shadows and standing right behind the camera.

Tall, big gut, greasy black hair, and a rotten toothed smile.

“Good evening Mr. Meyer.”

He smiles, showing off his moldy yellow teeth.

“The rest of your friends are watching by the way. So unless you want a world of pain I advise not dropping any hints. In fact, don’t speak at all.”

You repress the urge to smirk, and you look directly in the camera, before feeling a wet trickle down your forehead.

Blood.

“Damn. I’m off my game today. I blame you Morgan. You kept yapping and yapping last night and I never got any sleep.”

The man seemed to not like you talking to them. He frowns, stomping forward and grabbing you by the hair. He yanks your face up and you can only hope that Garcia isn’t looking.

“Don’t talk to them sweet girl. I want your attention.”

He let’s go, crouching in front of you. His breath stenches of rotten fruit and eggs.

“Now then, since you are going to die tonight, figure I might as well have fun and tell you a story beforehand.”

You almost sigh, knowing that the team is scrambling to find you, but you have to get information. Of course you weren’t worried. You were raised in the red room for your entire childhood. Fighting on a sprained ankle and a concussion would probably hurt, but it would be alright. You would survive.

As long as you don’t get too terribly hurt.

“Once upon a time. There was a little boy.”

He stands, raising a hand and smacking you across the face. It stings, leaving a searing red feeling on your cheek, nearing your eye.

“This little boy had a father who had a lot of anger. His father brought women home every night, killing them slowly, like I’m doing to you.”

Another slap.

“But what father didn’t know, is that his precious son watched from afar, admiring the work he did. I am taking my father’s place in this world. His legacy will continue with me!”

He delivers a harsh punch to your stomach, making you groan and curl over, shutting your eyes tightly.

Alright time to end this guy.

“His legacy huh? You wanna make him proud? You won’t get the chance.”

You lean back in your chair as he leans in, smashing your head against his and knocking him back, standing up in the chair and spinning to hit him with the chair, breaking it in the process.

He stumbles on the ground for a moment before getting up, running straight at you. You hop up, landing on his shoulders and bashing at his head with his elbows as he tries desperately to beat your lower back and thighs.

“You fucking bitch!”

You continue to bash his head in with your elbows until he stumbles to the ground, passing out on top of you.

“Hey guys, you find out where I am yet? Because I have no fucking clue.”

You turn to the camera, wiping at the blood staining your dress shirt.

Meanwhile, the team was still trying to process what happened.

“Did anyone else see that? She just took down a 379 pound man who’s twice her size by herself. Did we- did we teach her that?”

“No we did not. Let’s hope she tells us what that place is or we’ll never get to question that.”

“Alrighty what do we have here? It looks like a butcher place? Or whatever you call them. Ummmm, There’s a whole lot of dead cow. He couldn’t have taken me far. The clock on the camera says it’s only been twenty minutes. I’m sure you guys have questions but I am getting tired of the scent of rotten meat, please hurry.”

“Garcia, Find her.”

“Already there, got two Butchery’s Within a fifty mile radius, go get my girl please.”

They split up into two teams, Rossi, Morgan, and Spencer on one team, while Hotch and Prentiss were on the other.

You busied yourself on the floor, tying the man up with the rope that was previously tied around your limbs.

Your entire body ached with the feeling of his fists beating you up before you had woken up.

“Ugh... My head is killing me...”

Your brain was throbbing from under your skull, the pain worst at the sight of your bloody gash. It was overwhelming. You could feel the way your mind so desperately wanted to shut itself down, but you couldn’t let it until they got you safe and sound.

There was a loud rapping on the large door from outside, an aggressively familiar voice following it.

“FBI agents put your hands up! We’re coming in!”

“It’s me Morgan, unsub is unconscious and alive.”

The door opens, Revealing three of your favorite agents. A smile on your face as their guns return to the holsters. Morgan rushes up to you, holding your head and checking to see how bad the injury is.

“Well my pro fighter, you have a whole lot of explaining to do when we get to Quantico.”

You shrug, wrapping an arm around his and Reid’s shoulders for support to walk.

“Yeah well, I might pass out so it can wait.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan

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pagesoflauren · 4 years

Text

Money’s Worth - You’re Mine

soft husband!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: Starting 2021 answering the question I got asked the most in 2020: “How will the reader react to learning that Ransom hooked up with someone when she was away for Christmas?”

A/N: When y’all filled out this poll, there was a 100% yes answer for a spinoff for The Highest Bidder. Well, here it is: Money’s Worth. In which Ransom is getting $50,000+ worth of experiences with his wife and child(ren). If you have more ideas, don’t be shy, drop ‘em in my ask box! I’ll update this series from time to time.

If you were tagged in Highest Bidder, I automatically tagged you in this. If you’d like to be removed, let me know! My feelings won’t be hurt, I promise ❤️

Also, I’m sorry if your name is Amanda 🥴

Warnings: smut, swearing, jealousy, angst, daddy!kink

The Highest Bidder Masterlist

Money’s Worth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Darling, can you go over to the next aisle and get a couple boxes of pasta?”

Ransom nods, even though you’re too engrossed in looking at the differences between chickpea-based and gluten-based pasta.

His son is awake, wide eyes looking around at brightly colored food packages and fluorescent lights with a pacifier in his mouth. From what Ransom recalls of tales from when he was a baby, Harlan Jr. is more like you. Quietly observing, not kicking up too much of a fuss.

Pinching the baby’s nose gently and coaxing a small giggle out of him, Ransom ventures over to the next aisle to find the pasta you like.

A sharp gasp and an obnoxious “oh my God,” draws his attention. When he looks up and finds the source of the voice, his stomach gurgles with dread and annoyance.

“All the times I’ve been here, I’ve never seen you,” she says. “What are you up to? Disappointing more girls in bed?”

Ransom weighs his options in his head. He could dig low, reminding her of all the times she was actually begging for him, or he could take the high ground, grab the pasta, and ignore her.

He does the latter, though makes the mistake of using his left hand to do so.

“Is that a wedding band?” she scoffs.

“Yeah, it is--”

“Oh, Ransom, don’t get that one, we want the bigger noodles.”

Shutting his eyes, Ransom shouts all the swear words he can think of in his mind. This is such bad timing!

“No fucking way,” Rebecca--or is it Veronica?--scoffs.

“Hi,” Ransom sees you give a sickeningly sweet smile and he wants to disappear into the shelves. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall ever meeting you.”

“I’m Amanda.”

Wow. Completely different name than the ones his mind was supplying.

“Your husband and I know each other pretty well.”

He can see the gears turning in your head, analyzing the situation.

“Quite frankly, I’m not surprised about the little one. I’m sure he did the same thing to you as he did to me, just finished and decided he was done without fully getting the job done!”

You’re visibly taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, we just hooked up casually like, two years ago? I can’t really remember, it was during Christmas though. Hadn’t heard from him in a while and he mentioned being lonely and I figured ‘Why not?’”

“Two years ago?” you echo, looking at her, then at Ransom.

“It was casual, I left right after,” he points out,

“Oh, were you two together then? I’m so sorry--”

“You know what, Veronica, just get your stupid pasta or rice or whatever the fuck you’re here for and leave me and my wife in peace! Don’t you have better shit to do?!”

“It’s Amanda.”

“I don’t care.”

Rolling her eyes, she leaves, turning on her heel and exiting the aisle.

Ransom turns back to you and doesn’t like the thoughtful look on your face. You don’t look at him or Harlan, just at the contents in your cart.

“Hey, don’t let whatever she said get to you. You know I love you,” he reaches for you, fingertip just grazing your cheek and you cringe away from him.

“Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s go.”

You’ve snapped at him before to remind him to stop completely at intersections or double check the temperature of Harlan’s bottle. You’ve never snapped at him that way, in irritation as if you can’t stand him.

He recoils, drawing his touch away from you. “Well, just...let me get the right one.”

“Ransom,” you deadpan, “I wanna go home. Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s. go.”

He does as you say, carefully placing the boxes atop the other items.

You don’t speak to him as you check out and sit in the backseat with Harlan to make sure he’s okay as he drives the three of you home. His little eyelids drop closed, completely calm despite the palpable tension between the two of you.

Once at home, Ransom takes care of the groceries while you bring Harlan upstairs to his crib so he can continue to sleep. Just as you get him settled, you hear your husband pipe up.

“So, can we talk about what happened at the grocery store?”

You sigh, straightening up. You cross your arms as you turn to face him. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“When you were on winter break a few months after you had just moved in.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, a whirlpool of emotions spinning around in your chest.

You’re angry and hurt, but you don’t know why. The two of you were just starting your sugar arrangement and it wasn’t anything deeper than that. There weren’t any feelings on your end until the following spring.

“It wasn’t anything, it was just some hook up. She was just being a bitch because I left--”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” you interrupt him.

You had long reconciled Ransom’s past and never held it against him. But you just cannot pin the exact reason why this revelation bothers you.

“Look, I’m still figuring out things going on in my head. And I don’t really...I don’t really want to see you right now.”

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” he argues, “We weren’t anything. We only became a thing in July.”

“Really?” you wonder. You weren’t going to bring this up, but it feels fair in order to get him to understand your perspective. “I had a crush on someone from my cohort.” You watch his expression shift from annoyed to surprised. “I kissed him once. In November, after I moved in with you. But it didn’t work out because I was living with you, so we decided to not do anything about it.”

You can see the visible tinge of red on his neck. “Are you saying that just to get at me?”

“It’s the truth,” you say. “Does it bother you?”

You can see him setting his jaw as he takes in the information.

“But we weren’t anything, right?” you remind him of the words he spoke just minutes before.

Ransom doesn’t say anything. He turns away and walks down the hall. You hear him going down the stairs and then the door to his office slams.

You check on Harlan, he’s still sound asleep. Slightly relieved, you move into your bedroom and sit on the mattress.

Ransom lets out a long-winded groan when he deletes the sentence he’s been working on for the fifty-second time in twenty minutes.

He feels odd knowing you liked someone when you were living with him, just as the seeds of his feelings were being planted. He’s taken pride in the fact that he was the only one to have you, but turns out your heart was a better prize and that wasn’t his completely.

He doesn’t doubt you love him and he’s certain he never has to worry about sharing you ever again, but it still bothers him.

He scrubs his hands over his face and rubs the back of his neck.

He remembers fights between his parents never being resolved, which resulted in their marriage slowly disintegrating into a financial arrangement than a romantic relationship.

He knows you late at night when you’re both hungry; knows you pregnant and crying over hermit crabs while watching nature documentaries; knows you between his arms and keeping him warm, making him feel safe and loved when he felt he didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t want this to turn into anything close to the example of marriage he saw growing up.

Shutting his laptop, he gets up and marches to the door. When he yanks it open, you’re standing there.

“What are you doing?”

You look caught, as if you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. “I...I wanted to talk. Unless you don’t want to.”

You begin to leave and he grabs your arm. “No, let’s talk.”

Stepping into the room feels reminiscent of walking into his office at the publishing house for the first time. You’re not comfortable entering this territory.

Hugging your arms around your middle, making yourself look as small as you feel, you decide to just be forward. Your words come out sheepishly, “I just...I didn’t like knowing the moment I was gone, you went out and replaced me. Even if we didn’t have an exclusive label. And, I just thought, like, I realize it doesn’t matter because we’re married. And like you said, I know you love me. But, I don’t know. Just didn’t sit right with me.”

Ransom sighs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t replacing you or anything like that. I...I saw a change in myself from just having you with me for a few months. But I thought you’d leave as soon as you got the opportunity,” he uses a large sweeping gesture as if he’s picturing you leaving all over again. “And I’d…” he hesitates, hand up by his head before his arm goes slack, “be back to my shitty normal self.”

It’s different now with the explanation, and you wish you had been in the mindset to listen to him earlier instead of hurt him.

“And I get it. Knowing you had a crush on some guy doesn’t sit right with me either. I just,” he looks up and distantly, “I wonder what he had. What made you like him but then you were fine with nothing happening and then you started liking me?”

“Neither of us were ready for a relationship at the time. We had just started and our first semester was crazy.” You take your turn to explain. “And feelings just come and go sometimes. I saw him again in February and it just...wasn’t there.”

He takes in your strikingly simpler explanation, understanding your reference to fleeting feelings that are gone almost as quickly as they appear.

“I’m sorry, Ransom. I shouldn’t have said anything about that. It was so stupid and it really didn’t mean anything--”

“Neither did Amanda.”

“I…” you trail off, not knowing what to say.

“I wasn’t being very understanding earlier when you first said it bothered you. You were just trying to get me to know your side of things.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” you counter. “I really am so sorry.”

Ransom smiles and laughs to himself. He still doesn’t know how to accept an apology. He sighs, reaching for you. “How long do you think junior will be asleep?”

“Could be an hour, maybe two,” you answer as he draws you closer with a hand around your waist.

“Think that’s plenty of time for us to make it up to each other.”

“Technically I need to make it up to you,” you correct him as you take his hand. “And I know how I want to.”

You lead him back around his desk, ushering him to sit in his chair. It’s large with dark blue velvet, providing enough room for you too and straddle his lap.

You dive for his mouth, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

His left hand comes to cradle your jaw, keeping your lips locked onto his, while his right hand drifts down your back to cup your bottom.

You grind your core against his, smiling when you feel his hips jut up to yours. Tilting your head you give a tentative lick into his mouth. He opens up, bringing his tongue in to play with yours.

It reminds you of how it was when it started; being shy and letting him take the lead. You haven’t fallen into this cloudy headspace in a long time, but it feels so good that when you pull back and gasp the word “daddy,” it feels so natural.

Ransom, on the other hand, is taken aback. He’s gotten used to you calling him “darling” or other terms of endearment. Hearing you call him that awakens something that had long gone into hibernation; and he wasn’t sure if it would ever see the light of day again.

But like you, he slips into the space, creating a firm grip on your ass as a smirk appears on his face.

“Wanna call me ‘daddy,’ baby? Hm?” he taunts. Your eyes are wide and doey, feigning innocence when he knows you’re far from it now. “Well, guess we can do that. We’ll make up for that night I wasted on someone else.”

He watches your brows furrow and eyes squint in anger. Your hands slide into his hair, fingers tightening in the tresses. It creates a pull on his scalp, something he enjoys. “You’re mine, daddy,” you whisper just before your lips are on his again, kissing him harder than before, certain to bruise.

You pull away and lean down to nip at his neck, hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You pop the button and undo the zipper unceremoniously.

You remove yourself from his lap only to kneel between his legs on the carpet, pulling his jeans down to his knees. His boxers are quick to follow, revealing his hardening member. You grasp it, giving it a few squeezes and tugs the way you know he likes, watching his head loll back against the back of his chair.

“This is mine, too,” you say.

“Yeah?” he pants, looking down at you. A hand grazes through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. “My cock only belongs to you?”

You nod, working him with more determination.

“Then take it, baby.”

You practically lunge for it, leaning forward to take him into your mouth, lips spreading to accommodate his girth.

You’re satisfied with the sound Ransom makes, something between pained and blissful. He eggs you on, gathering your hair into a ponytail secured with his hand as he guides you to take more and withdraw in rhythm.

You want him to finish in your mouth, but he pulls you off him and makes to lift you back onto his lap. You stand, already shimmying out of your bottoms.

Straddling him again, you focus your attention down to poise yourself just above the head of him.

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and makes you look at him before crashing his lips on yours once more.

“Take what’s yours, baby. It’ll always be yours,” he whispers.

You sink down, crying out at the feeling of him within you. The doctor had just given you the green light to resume sex as normal after Harlan’s birth weeks ago, but you haven’t been able to find a lot of time to tangle with each other without your baby or Ransom’s book needing attention.

Ransom appears to have an equally hazy feeling, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. You straighten up slightly until just the tip of him is in and lower yourself again.

It’s so much for the both of you that his hands come to your waist and he guides your pace. “Slow,” he instructs you.

You obey, finding a steady pattern as you build a climax for the both of you. Coaxing your hips the slightest bit forward, Ransom sinks all the way to reach that spot within you that makes you see stars.

“Like that, baby?” he taunts you again, moving your hips up and down his length. “Tell daddy.”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Just like that, daddy.”

He works you until you’re nearing your end, tightening and pulsing around him to bring on his orgasm as well. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he taps below your eyes, a silent request for you to look at him.

Your eyes meet his and he verbalizes exactly what he’s thinking. “I’m yours,” he pants, “I’m yours, my baby, my sunshine.” You fall forward and kiss him, letting him swallow your moans and whines. “Come for me, let me show you.”

Your body weakens in his grasp, leaning onto him for support. Your movements falter and he makes up for them, jutting his hips up until he’s finishing within you.

You gasp at the warmth that blooms in your stomach, feeling like gravity is failing but it’s okay; Ransom’s holding onto you, keeping you grounded.

He holds you tightly as you breathe heavily, trying to recover your strength. You sigh and your arms wrap around his shoulders. You hear him chuckle and lean back.

“We should’ve thought this through better,” he smiles, “We gotta get upstairs and clean up.”

You moan your disappointment. “M’tired. Can’t we just stay here a bit?”

Moving your hair out of your face, he kisses your exposed forehead. “Okay, sunshine,” he agrees. “Just a few minutes.”

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity @stargazingfangirl18 @lovemarvelousfics @rainbowkisses31 @richonne4life @damnndeanndamnn @meetmeatyourworst @tinyplanet-explorer @vivien-1211 @unknownmystery22 @nerdygirl8203 @xoxabs88xox @mariaenchanted @gotnofucks @denisemarieangelina @myoxisbroken @kelbabyblue @pspice639 @maynay43

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit @astheworlddturns @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme @tvckerlance @thiskindahotkindamusic

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

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#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale smut #Money's Worth #The Highest Bidder #ficsofpagesoflauren

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elldell1204 · 4 years

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Hair Me Out - Spencer Reid x Reader

Y/N wears her hair in many different styles, and her boyfriend, Spencer, seems to appreciate each one in different ways.

A/N: So, I just wanted to add, I try to make my ‘reader’ as ambiguous as possible, that way you can identify with them more. However, I struggled with this one, as I am a white female with straight hair and not much knowledge of (though deep appreciation and love for) natural or curly hair, seeing as I have little to no experience. Therefore, I have tried making this as inclusive as possible but I’m sorry if at any point seems too specific and you can’t put yourself into the story. Feel free to call me out on anything you aren’t comfortable with!

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, swearing, normal Criminal minds stuff (let me know if I missed anything)

wc - 3,217

Dutch Braids -

You and Spencer had just gotten off from work about an hour ago after a gruelling day with an equally stressful case. Which is why as soon as you were both showered, dressed in the comfiest clothes you could find and waiting for the takeout to arrive, you were both sprawled out on the couch in front of a movie, having no energy left to talk, let alone move when there was a knock at the door. Seeing as you were the one with less of the other person’s body parts draped across you, you got up and answered while Spencer didn’t move an inch. You couldn’t blame him; the poor boy was exhausted.

Around twenty minutes later, you’d both eaten, leaving your plates on the coffee table in front of you with the mental promise to wash them later, and were back to snuggling into each other, getting as close as you possibly could to soothe each other after the day you had. Your head was tucked neatly into Spencer’s chest, your knees drawn up to near your chin in the foetal position, making yourself as small as possible. Spencer was the opposite; spread like a starfish with his arm around your back and his head rested against the back of the couch.

If someone were to ask you what the movie was about, you wouldn’t have a clue where to start. Truth is, you felt like you were stuck in-between both the lands of sleep and consciousness, due to wanting to spend some time with your boyfriend (despite him being your work partner for the best part of sixteen hours) but also wanting to sleep for three days. In attempt to make yourself just a little bit more awake, you started trying to focus on different things around you. First it was the quote on the front of the main character’s t-shirt, then it was the Metro you could faintly hear as the last train of the night rattled by, then it was Spencer’s finger tracing up and down one of your braids that you’d done quickly after your shower.

“Spence?” You murmured the first words spoken in practically an hour.

“Hmm?” He hummed in response, his half-lidded eyes shifting to your face that you had lifted to face him.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” His voice was merely a whisper, and if you weren’t listening for it, the only way you’d know he was speaking was from the vibration of his chest.

You gestured to your hair with your finger, and only when he realised did he stop what he was doing and chuckle lightly and dreamily.

“Oh, sorry, I’m not sure, it just feels soft, I guess. I’ll stop.”

“No, no, it’s okay, you can keep going.” You smiled at him, mustering up the energy to lean up and press a sweet kiss to his lips before retracting back to your previous position.

Ponytail -

To say you were having a bad day was an understatement. You usually like to try and stay as positive as you could be when chasing a serial, paedophilic murderer, but there’s only so many deep breaths and coffee breaks you can take before you really start to get pissed off. Not only had you been stuck in hot and sticky Texas for near a week, but you had also been put into single rooms at the hotel you were staying at. Now, not to sound ungrateful (because you very much are of the fact that you at least have a roof over your head), but only having one single bed to a room means that you can’t snuggle with Spencer after a long day, and these were proving to be very long days.

And to add to the problem, Hotch was constantly on edge since the start of the case, with the victims looking a hell of a lot like Jack, and when you were the closest person to him on that first day when his tensions finally boiled over, you had been the one in the firing line of his rage. Which you can take. You knew he didn’t mean it, and if he had to take his frustrations out on someone for a few days so he could do his job with a clearer head, you were happy to be the target.

But now after a particularly rough six days, your patience was wearing thin, and everyone on the team could see it, which is why they offered you and Spencer any jobs they were assigned that would get them out of the stifling police precinct. And you knew they had good intentions, but even that was starting to annoy you.

So now you were sat at the table in the conference room, a pen between your teeth as your eyes frantically search over the evidence you have piled in front of you, desperate for the answers to this case to fly off the page and hit you smack dab in the forehead so you could just go home and have a fight with a pillow or something, anything to destress.

You heard the footsteps coming from the doorway, but you refused to turn around. If it was Hotch, you swear to god you might actually lose your job with what you were thinking of doing if he was short with you one more time. If it was Morgan ready to hand you a first-class ticket to visit the slightly wrinkly and very smelly coroner again, you might actually flip the table.

“Hey, Y/N.” Spencer greeted you warmly, sitting on the table to your right as your eyes slowly lifted to meet his. No, not Spencer. Hold it together, Y/N, hold in your rage, he’s done nothing wrong. “Oh, I haven’t seen you with your hair tied back in a while. I like it.”

Such a sweet statement, and yet it broke you. You could see in his face the moment your eyes lit aflame with anger, and you couldn’t miss the harsh swallow he took to brace himself for your fury.

“Well, Dr Reid, let me teach you a lesson, shall I? 3 reasons. One, it is way more practical for kicking someone’s ass, and right now, I would love nothing more than catching the sleazy son-of-a-bitch who is deriving pleasure from this,” You gesture violently to the crime scene photos splayed out in front of you before continuing to spit your venom. “And beating the living shit out of him until he’s crying out for his mommy. Two, do you know how many officers have tried to flirt up a storm with me in the past week? Way too many to count on one fucking hand! One even went so far as to try stroking my hair like a goddamn cat, and so to avoid that situation, I have put it in a ponytail, because if anything of that nature happens again, I won’t hesitate to break someone’s arm. And three, I usually have it down because most men think you’re dumber when you play with your hair, or I can play seductive to get what I want without a warrant fifty percent of the time. But seeing as we have absolutely nobody on the suspect list right now, and the sheer fury I possess at this moment, I don’t foresee the possibility of me needing to be either of those things, do you?”

Your lungs were heaving once you were done, and poor Spencer looked like you just told him you were a Russian spy sent to kill him. Your eyes were locked onto each other’s, and when you came back to reality from your rant, you recognised the softness and love in his that you were grateful for every day. Granted, they were a little masked by fear right now, but you’d admired him often enough to be able to spot even the faintest hint of your favourite emotions.

You let out a deep sigh, signalling you were back to your normal self as much as you could be right then, before dropping your head into your hands to rub your eyes with the heel of your palms.

It was then you felt the unmistakeable warmth of Spencer’s hand rubbing soothing patterns on your back as you gathered yourself together, bringing tears to your eyes as you opened them once more to face him.

“Oh, Spencer,” You whispered, grabbing his hands tightly with yours, lifting them to your lips and pressing sweet kisses to his knuckles. “I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

“It’s okay, my love.”

“No, it’s really not. I never should have raised my voice at you, especially when it’s not your fault at all that I’m frustrated.”

“Y/N, I understand.” He smiled at you, a small and sympathetic one, but it calmed you nonetheless as he stood, pulling you up from the chair to wrap his arms tightly around you. You gripped onto him like he might run away if you didn’t, breathing in the warm scent that is so unmistakeably Spencer. Your vision was now cloudy with the tears that so desperately wanted to spill, but you were adamant you wouldn’t give the local cops the satisfaction of seeing you with wet cheeks. Luckily, Spencer knows you better than anyone.

“There’s a park a few minutes’ walk from here with a small duck pond. Would you like some fresh air?”

You nodded frantically against his neck as you finally let go, allowing him to lead you out of the precinct, hand in hand, his thumb running softly over yours as you walked.

“I don’t deserve you.” You mumbled, leaning in closer to him as you carried on down the path.

“Nonsense,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “We deserve each other. Just remind me not to get on your bad side; I like having both of my arms functional.”

Bed Head -

A blaring alarm at 6am has to be up there with one of the most annoying things on the planet, and I work with Derek Morgan. You let out a groan, your arm floundering around to find the source of the wretched noise. Groaning in defeat of not being able to do it with your eyes closed, you cracked one open, locating your phone, and finding sweet relief in the snooze button. A very overexaggerated yawn left your lips as you attempted to stretch your arms over your head in an effort to wake up, only to find one immobilised in the grasp of your boyfriend.

You took advantage the rare opportunity of waking up before Mr Alarm Clock himself (also known as Dr Spencer Reid) by allowing yourself a few minutes to admire his form in the golden sliver of sunlight escaping the outside world through the gap in the curtains. It was only when your alarm went off again after the five-minute snooze timer did you try to wake him up.

“Spence, baby, time to wake up.” You whisper, attempting to gently coax him from his slumber. When that didn’t work, you laced your fingers through his mousy-brown curls, scratching lightly at his scalp, just how he likes. Only then did you receive a response in the form of a muffled groan into his pillow.

“C’mon, my love. We need to get ready for work.” You spoke softly, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead.

You chuckled lightly, wrapping your arms around his torso as your legs entwined. “Okay, my sleepy darling. But only five.”

“Mmm, five more minutes.” He mumbled, nestling his face into your hair as he pulls you closer than you thought possible.

Safe to say you took breakfast to go, just so you could bask in each other’s embraced for a little longer than five minutes.

Post-Sex Hair -

You climbed from his lap gently, unsure if your legs could hold yourself up as you panted heavily. Practically throwing yourself down beside Spencer on the bed, he took the opportunity to grab your hand, lacing your fingers with his as you laid your head on his chest. You were both still a little dreamlike in your post-orgasmic haze, and when Spencer began to press kiss after kiss into your hair, you didn’t hesitate to enjoy them.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered into your hair, punctuating his statement with a final kiss for good measure.

You looked up from your position, shifting slightly so you were face to face, and scrunched up your nose. “Really? Even with sweaty sex hair?”

He chuckled, and you followed with a giggle of your own as he leant over to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. “Especially with sweaty sex hair.” He whispered with a joking edge to his voice, his lips brushing with yours.

“Well, I’m pretty sure the team wouldn’t love my sweaty sex hair, so I better hop in the shower.” You smiled, kissing him quickly once more before climbing out of the bed and walking towards the bathroom, a sway to your hips.

As you reached the door, you turned to shoot a smirk over your shoulder at the blissed-out boy behind you. “Oh, are you not joining me?”

You swear you’d never seen the boy move as fast as when he clambered from the bed and chased you into the bathroom.

Straightened -

There was something about going undercover that equally excited you and creeped you out. Especially tonight, when you were having to go under in a club to catch a guy who was killing adulterous wives. You were the closest person in the team to his type, so it was a no-brainer to choose you, really. Didn’t mean you were happy with it, and it seemed that Spencer wasn’t either, if his clenched jaw was anything to go by.

Well, you were going to do it no matter what, so why not get yourself dressed up and try to bring some joy back to a less than ideal situation? That is why you were stood in the locker room of a precinct on the west coast in a red crushed velvet minidress with black heels, a fake wedding ring and straightened hair, and you couldn’t lie, you were totally feeling yourself.

“Woah, Y/N, you look…amazing.” You heard Spencer say as he entered the room.

You turned your head and smiled at him, feeling a little flustered as his eyes trailed over your form. You attempted to push your dress further down your thighs as he walked to you, his hands encircling your waist from behind and his head perched on your shoulder.

“It’s not too much is it?” You mumbled, looking down at yourself to do a final once over.

You felt his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to look him in the eyes through the mirror, ones filled with love and a hint of desire that set your skin aflame. He brushed your hair aside from your neck to trail kisses down the side of your throat, eliciting a breathy sigh from your lips.

“No, Y/N, you look badass.”

You giggled at the word that seemed so foreign coming from Spencer, but that was soon muffled when he spun you around by his hands on your hips and his lips hungrily met yours. Your lips moved against each other’s, his tongue coming to swipe at your bottom lip in a request for entrance. You granted it, and soon you felt your back collide with the cool metal of the lockers. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt as you explored his mouth with your tongue, relishing in the taste of him. You laced a hand up into his hair as you felt a hand that he had at your waist moving to your ass, gripping it roughly, causing you to moan into his mouth.

“Reid? Y/L/N? You two lovebirds ready?” You heard Morgan mock from the doorway and you both immediately jumped apart like some sort of invisible wall had shot up between you.

Looking around to see that Morgan wasn’t in your eyeline, given that the lockers luckily blocked you two from his view. But not from earshot, seeing as you could quite clearly hear his hearty chuckles as his footsteps got quieter and quieter.

You looked up at Spencer, his hair dishevelled and his tie askew, a look of both embarrassment and amusement at being caught making out like two horny teenagers adorned his face. A grin broke out on your lips, which he mirrored, and soon you were both laughing hysterically as you sorted yourselves out in the tiny little mirror on the wall, attempting to make it look like you weren’t a few seconds away from tearing each other’s clothes off, before re-joining the team in the conference room.

Messy Bun -

Ugh, cold and flu season. You swear you never make it through it unscathed. And it seems as if your battle was commencing today. You woke up feeling dreadful; runny nose, scratchy throat, constant sneezing, and red-rimmed eyes. Attractive.

There was no question in having to call in sick, so after throwing your hair up in the messiest of messy buns and locating the snuggest blanket, you dialled the number. You could practically hear the wince from Hotch when you started having a sneezing fit down the phone. Now you weren’t sure if you could look the man in the eye when you went back.

Once that torture was over and done with, you were feeling sorry for yourself and decided on a warm cup of tea and a dose of shitty daytime television. You were halfway through some over-enthusiastic talk show when you heard a knock at your door. Refusing to leave the blanket behind that you’d burrito’d yourself in, you shuffled over to the door.

You didn’t expect a very sympathetic looking Spencer on the other side of the door, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a welcomed sight.

“Hey.” You croaked out.

“Hi. How are you feeling?” You gave him a look that said it all, and he chuckled lightly. He lifted the bag he had in his hand. “I brought the best cure I could think of; chicken noodle soup.”

“I don’t want to get you sick, Spencer.” You whined, wanting nothing more than to curl up into his side but holding onto your selfless and rational thoughts by a mere thread.

You smiled at that, stepping aside to let him in. He passed you and went and got comfortable on your couch, grabbing a fork on the way. When you met him in the living room, he was ready and waiting for you with his arms open for you to snuggle into.

“Don’t worry about me. Now come on, your soup is getting cold.” He smiled, making grabby hands at you.

You made your way over, sinking into his embrace as he passed you the container and your fork. After a few mouthfuls and several minutes of listening to his steady breaths and thumps of his heart, you were feeling much better.

“Thank you.” You mumbled once you were finished and had placed your empty container on the coffee table in front of you, nuzzling further into Spencer’s chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Didn’t have to tell you twice.

#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #Matthew Gray Gubler #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #mgg #mgg fluff

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romioneficfest · 3 years

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Defender

Title: Defender Prompt/Day: Hogwarts (Day 13) Tumblr name: Rating: PG-13 Brief summary: During rounds, Hermione sees something that gives hope. Any possible triggering/warning tags: Curse words

Hermione's pace slowed, boredom and loneliness taking hold as she patrolled the castle. All too often she'd felt the pull of self-pity, though she detested moping and feeling sorry for herself.

She could trace the feeling back to that evening months before, when Ron and Lavender became a couple—and she lost her best friend. Ron had tried to make up with her, his efforts intensifying as of late, but she couldn't do it.

She couldn't be happy for him, as horrible as that was.

Not when he'd crushed her heart, and certainly not after she'd made a fool of herself with her petty attempts at revenge; the cattiness, name calling, and efforts to make him jealous. She felt sick that she'd stooped as low as taking Cormac to that party. Where her feelings for Ron were concerned, she seemed to lose all semblance of logic.

She sighed, half-heartedly checking a few classrooms for wayward students or snogging couples, her mind slipping to memories of better days.

One of the best things that had come from being a Prefect was that she got to spend so much time with Ron. They'd really gotten to know one another during their nightly walks around the castle, often sharing things they didn't tell anyone else… Funny stories from their youth, their concerns and fears, and even on the rare occasion, their hopes and dreams.

Since their falling out however, they had been avoiding each other like the plague, even on patrols. She hated it, and it was severely affecting her enjoyment of having such a key responsibility at Hogwarts.

A noise at the end of the hall startled her, and she briskly strode to the source. It sounds like muffled voices, and she immediately suspected who it might be.

Hermione heard the voices again, her ire rising. She'd reprimanded the two Seventh Year Gryffindors more than twenty minutes ago during her rounds, but she would have to do so again. She was about to turn the corner when she heard a third voice, this one achingly familiar. She immediately stopped and hid, flattening herself against the wall before peeking out from her spot.

"What are you doing out at this time? It's past curfew," Ron asked as he walked up to the two other boys. Though he towered over them, she could see his reluctance at confronting students older than him, perhaps because they were also known to be close friends with McLaggen. However, as a Prefect, it was his duty.

The two boys, Branson and Smith, gave each other a quick look before replying. "We were just going back to the tower, I swear," Smith began, before nudging his mate. "This one has a bird in Ravenclaw and was saying good night. It's always the smart ones, eh?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the idiotic boys and their ridiculous excuses. She wanted to scream at Ron to do something and not let them off.

Ron eyed them suspiciously, before addressing Smith. "If he was saying good night to his girlfriend, what were you doing then?"

"Oh, I'm keen on her friend. Was trying to get a good night snog of my own. Valentine's Day is coming up after all." He gave Ron a friendly punch on the arm, a transparent attempt to buddy up with him and avoid trouble. "Know what I mean, Weasley?"

Ron frowned, but didn't reply.

"Besides," Branson pleaded. "Granger just caught us out and took away points—for the third bloody time this week."

Ron eyed them with reluctance. "Well, if Hermione already took away points, I'll let you off with a warning. Just hurry back to the Common Room and I won't do anything else."

Hermione wanted to stomp her feet and give them all a piece of her mind. Those scheming boys, and Ron for believing their lies.

"Thanks, mate."

"Yeah, thanks." Smith piped up, a smile on his face. "Granger's been on the warpath for months. You know, ever since you started up with Lavender Brown, she's been a real bitch."

Hermione stifled a sudden sob. She'd been called horrible things before, and while that caused her pain, the thought of Ron agreeing with them hurt her heart tremendously. She placed her trust in him that he was better than that, and her fears were quickly disproven.

"OY!" Ron's face was murderous, his ears flushing red as he brought his wand up threateningly, pointing it at them. "Don't you ever talk about her like that again! Hermione is the best person I know. She's smarter than you two tossers combined, brave, beautiful, and an amazing friend. Fifty points from Gryffindor."

They had cowered back at Ron's sudden fury, unable to even defend themselves or complain about the harsh penalty. They too had misjudged Ron's feelings about her and were now paying the price.

"Get back to the Common Room before I report you to McGonagall," Ron ordered through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing. "And watch your mouth, Smith. "

They turned around, grumbling to themselves as they quickly retreated down the corridor.

She could see Ron trembling from the confrontation as he slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath after the rush of adrenaline. He let out a groan and banged the back of his head repeatedly against the stone as he looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah, always the smart ones."

He laughed mirthlessly, continuing to talk to himself. "Stuck with the girl you don't want and hated by the girl you... How did I fuck this up so badly?"

She pushed down another sob, this one out of happiness. She would've hugged him if they hadn't been on the outs, knowing that he did feel something for her. He had called her beautiful and she'd never heard him speak about her with such passion. Even though there was no reason for him to, he still defended her. He didn't know she was listening to the exchange. How could he?

It meant that he still cared about her, that things between them weren't completely unsalvageable.

She almost squeaked as he pushed himself off the wall and walked past her hiding spot. He was so close, she could hear him mumbling something about 'barmy girls', his head hanging down and his shoulders slumped. Had he just glanced up, he would've seen her.

He was missing her as much as she missed him, that much was clear. She could feel an inkling of hope—a feeling she had been suppressing for a good portion of the year—bubbling up and lifting her spirits. After everything that happened, Ron was still her staunchest defender.

If their friendship could be saved, perhaps there was a chance for them yet.

#hpfic #romione ficfest 2021 #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #Rated T #Ace Safe #cw:#cw: language #Queue up for the Dragon

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jflemings · 4 years

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you don’t need to prove yourself to me | spencer reid

summary: the BAU gets called into a local homicide case where all the victims have been women. You end up questioning the unsub and he hits a bit too close to home.

warnings: murder, aggressive tones & language, mentions of violence against women, substance abuse & domestic violence is mentioned, normal cm type stuff ends in fluff tho!

note from the author: This fic might get pretty heavy for some people reading, nothing too major. substance abuse is mentioned as is minor domestic violence but does not go into detail it is just for the sake of the plot. do not read if you feel like you are not comfortable with these topics!

word count: 5k - I am so sorry but this fic wouldn't make sense to make into two parts whoops

“The unsub in question is presumably a white male in his mid to late fifties with some sort of prior anger issues. He may seem relatively approachable at first, often may be charming to people he first meets but has an underlying sense of self rightousness and hatred towards women.” Hotch says before looking at you to continue.

Your attention shifts from your superior to the crowd of police officers in front of you “Chances are he’s a family man, a local. someone who knows his way around the area and can hide in plain sight. Depreciating jokes about women and possibly even a spouse could be in his humor, most likely he holds old sexist values. Grew up in an abusive household or with no mother which is where his lack of respect for women stems from.” you conclude your statement with a scan around the room, getting a feel for the reactions in the crowd before JJ starts to pull you away to a back office where the team has been set up temporarily this morning.

The door closes with a soft click as JJ leans up against it, her hand still on the handle. The sound of shifting papers fills the suddenly very obvious quiet room while you stand at the desk organising the case file and any evidence left on the desk, your long time friend stares at you and you can feel her eyes burning into the left side of your face before breaking her silence.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” the calm tone floats through the room as you stop shuffling papers and look up to the photos of the women on the evidence board before making eye contact with your most respected colleague

“I grew up with these women. One of them was my tutor in math when I was a sophomore, JJ!. To you guys these women are strangers but to me they’re friendly faces whom I’ve been with since I was a toddler and it frustrates me so much to not know if I’m waiting around for a dead body of an old classmate” A breath releases itself from your lungs and a weight has started to lift off of your shoulders and be replaced with a steady hand.

“This sick son of a bitch isn’t going to be doing this for much longer. We’re gonna catch him, y/n and I promise you can be the one to put his head on a stick” Her reassuring gaze and firm but kind smile is enough to put you at ease before Reid comes busting through the door.

His eyes are locked on you

“There’s been an attack” is all he can get out before your blood runs cold and you’re out of the station making a beeline for Hotch in the parking lot.

His back is turned to you but it doesn’t take a genius to know that right now he’s determined to find the unseen before it’s too late.

“Hotch! what’s going on!?” His name desperatly leaves your mouth before you, JJ and Spencer are stood in front of him

“a young woman was attacked two blocks away from her home, she fought back and is okay but may need to be taken to hosptial. She specifically asked for you”

You can feel the colour rapidly drain from your face, your great rate sky rocketing “Where was she attacked?”

“Corner of Anderson and Meyers street”

The street is lined with patrol cars and officers when you pull up with spencer, your hands on the wheel are shaking and white and you can’t control the over whelming feeling in the core of your stomach.

Your blank stare and lack of response doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend of a year. He reaches over to put the car in park and then gently takes your hands off the steering wheel and placing them in his own .

“Y/N look at me. She’s okay. She’s alive and she wants to speak with you. She fought and he couldn’t grab her.” Spencer’s slow tone is attention grabbing enough for your eyes to pry themselves away from the scene in front of you.

His eyes soften when he sees the tears brimming in your own and feels the ever so slight shake coming from your palms. Spencer had seen you cry before, yes, but not like this; the BAU had taken plenty of cases like this one but it was obvious to him now that you had taken this far more personal than he had initially though. His left hand removed itself from yours and brushed some fly away hairs behind your ear before gently resting it on the side of your face.

“if you want, we can sit here for a minute I’ll call Hotch now and tell him to take the lead and we’ll sit and yo-” He begins to ramble and you move his hand from your face so you can ahem his full attention.

“Spence, it’s okay. You and I can go over and speak with the victim; I’m going to be fine” you spoke softly with a smile on your face de before the both of you unbuckled yourselves and headed towards the ambulance parked in front of the corner.

The young woman is sitting in he back of the ambulance whilst holding an ice pack to the right side of her arm. Emily stands in front of her trying to get any information she can when you approach so you can take over.

“Thanks, Em. Reid and I can take over” you say before she puts a hand on or arm and walks away so your undivided attention is now on the woman in the back of the ambulance.

“Hello my name is Dr Reid and this is my partner Agent L/N, you- uh insisted you speak with us” Spencer introduces whilst flicking his gaze from you to the victim.

It’s like a tidal wave of realisation comes over you once you finally get a good look at the person in front of you “Oh my god- are you okay?” both hands grip the woman’s shoulders is utter disbelief and a look of concern is now occupying your features. “Ellie, what did he try to do to you?” the question comes out rushed while your eyes scan her body.

“Y/N! oh my god you’ll never believe it! I was just doing my normal track and when I got to this corner he tried to grab me. He held a knife to my stomach and threatened to stabbed me if I screamed but I couldn't take any chances so I hit him in his ribs and then heeled his toes as hard as I could but he still managed to get me on my arm and hip” She said exhausted, like she had just re lived it right in front of you. Stress crossed her features and her hand gripped her forehead.

You turn to your dumbfounded boyfriend standing beside you and you remembered that he had yet to properly meet your high school best friend.

“Ellie this is Spencer” you gestured to him and Ellie looked like she had finally found a thought that was floating in her brain “My boyfriend spencer” you clarified.

Instinctively, she stuck her hand out for him to shake “Oh of course! You’re the cute doctor” she smiled graciously when he did take her hand while Spence side eyed you.

“Sorry we aren’t meeting under better circumstances” He gave her a tight lipped smile before taking out his notebook “We were just wondering if we could ask a few questions? We’re not too sure we can wait ‘till after you’ve been checked out of hospital” spencer said.

You agreed with him “Did you happen to get a look at his face? or possibly any identifying characteristics” you quizzed while she racked her brain for some answers.

She sighed before answering “His hair was clean cut, like he had just gotten it done and his eyes were kind of deep set- like he hadn’t had a good nights sleep in at least a couple of months” she hesitated before looking at Reid “He wasn’t as tall as Spencer but he still had a bit of height on him, I think came up just past his shoulder” She stopped again and mindlessly scanned the crowd of uniformed officers before she set her sights back onto you. “The shirt Y/N! underneath his hoodie he wore a grey collard shirt that looked exactly like the police uniform”

Spencer’s head whipped around to the crowd of officers, either trying to find your superior or trying to find the suspected unsub. You wracked your brain, thoughts flying in and out of your head a million miles a minute. Nerves once again invaded your stomach and you started to rock from foot to foot trying to come up with someone- anyone- who possibly fit this profile and then it happened.

A light bulb moment. A realisation. A solution to all your problems went off in your brain.

You grabbed the thing closest to you which was coincidentally spencer’s right forearm “Tell Hotch we need everyone back at the station as well as photos taken of all uniform officers from the past fifteen years, I need to get onto Garcia asap I think I know who our unsub is” Your tone was firm and merely unfamiliar to Spencer, you had never spoken to him like that before so he knew you meant business.

You had taken your phone out of your back pocket and turned in the direction of the car, starting to rush away from the ambulance before spencer caught up with you and caught your arm in his hand

“Where are you going?” Once said out loud he knew it was a stupid question and judging by the flat look on your face you did too. he let out a defeated sigh “No, I know exactly where you’re going but I mean what are you doing going back without the team?”

His eyes scanned your face and he dropped his head so the two of you were on the same level “If the unsub is a uniformed officer I’m not letting you go back to the station without the team. We don’t know if he’s out here with us right now or back a the station waiting” His tone was hushed and firm like he wanted to make sure neither of you could be heard but also to ensure you knew that he meant what he was saying.

“Spen-”

“No Y/N” He now stood at his full stature which you were now coming to realise could be quite intimidating “Do not argue with me about this. This guy, animal, absolute son of a bitch targets women, seemingly people he knows. You’re a local and started out as a uniformed officer in this precinct so if you genuinely think that there is even a slither of a chance that I’m going to let you walk back into that station you are very much mistaken” He was confident as assertive when he spoke to you and when he finished his chest started to rise and fall with frustrated breaths.

He had never spoken to you like that or told you what you could and couldn’t do, especially when it came to a case. Spencer adored you- practically worshiped the very ground you walked on- because he had the up most faith in you and respect for you. He was very confident in the fact that you could take care of yourself with or without a gun strapped to your belt.

You visibly deflated and let out a deep sigh neither of you were aware you were holding in. Spencer once again got down to your eye level

“Okay Spence, okay” you reassured him.

You caught sight of Morgan over Spencer’s shoulder and called to him

“Get the team back to the precinct and Garcia on the phone Derek!” your voice caught the attention of Gideon and JJ who was giving you a nod when you turn back to spencer and motion to get in the car.

While stopped at traffic lights Spencer dialled Garcia’s number and put it on speaker phone

“You have reached the resident genius what can I do for you my sweet?” Penelope’s voice sang through the phone and spencer made a face at the use of ‘resident genius’

“Pen I need you to pull up the most recent photos taken of the uniformed officers at this precinct and look for a white man, mid to late fifties with a clean cut haircut, deep set eyes and he’ll have scars that look like fingernail scratches at the base of his neck” you could feel spencer’s curious mind get the better of him when you included that last detail but you were determined not tot make your eyes off the road.

“Bingo baby! Nick Kane, fifty five years old standing at five foot nine with, exactly like you said, three long fingernail-like scars at the base of his neck” she stated a-matter-a-factly

A knowing smile came over your features “pull up anything you can find on him, a record, any house calls or complaints, anything that was maybe payed off or covered up”

“you seem to know a lot about this guy, L/N” Penelope quizzed

Reid could see the hesitation in your eyes as your grip tightened on the wheel

“Don’t question it” you said through gritted teeth

“Oh no I uh- I wasn’t”

Your eyes slightly widened “No pen, not you”

Garcia seemed to understand “I’ll have that faxed over for you my love”

A small smile found it’s way upon your lips “thank you P”

Spencer hung up the phone and looked out his window not noticing the glances you threw his way.

By the time you and Spence pulled up to the station you were in full on work mode. You were practically burning holes into the ground with your feet when you marched up to Morgan and Emily with your boyfriend hot on your heels.

“I need the both of you to get information on Nick Kane’s whereabouts on this afternoon’s patrol. Ask any officers or detectives if they saw him leave the station at what time and if they didn’t ask them when the last time they saw him was” The words tumbled out of your mouth and all your two friends could do was nod

Emily smiled proudly at you “all over it, Hotch is in there now but I’m not too sure he’s very successful” she nodded her head to the back where the interrogation rooms were. Derek nodded in agreement

“Garcia also said that the files you asked her to fax over are ready” Morgan read the text off his phone which earned a grateful smile from you before walking off to grab the papers with all three of your co workers following you with their eyes.

Derek turned back around to face spencer who had worry written all over his face “Alright man, what’s going on? we got the bad guy, no one was majorly hurt today which means you can rest easy tonight”

Spencer came back down to earth at the sound of his long-time friend’s voice. He sighed in defeat “We might have the bad guy, nothing is concrete right now even if he fits the profile, the victim was incredibly lucky that he only got her arm and hip and I can’t rest easy tonight because I know that Y/N is hiding something” Spencer’s hands flailed as he rambled, completely missing the look Emily gave him.

“Hiding something? Spence what are you talking about? If she was hiding something she’d be hiding it from us, not you. I genuinely don’t think theres anything in the world that you don’t know about her” Emily said trying to calm him even a little bit

“I thought you two agreed not to profile each other anyway? wasn’t that, like one of the first things you agreed on even when you were friends” Morgan raised an eyebrow

“This isn’t me being an FBI agent and profiling her, it’s me being her boyfriend and worrying about her. She’s taken his case to heart more than I thought she would. It hits too close to home for her” Spencer concluded while he scuffed his feet at the old carpet floor “And I know that there were women killed that she knew personally but her demeanor changed once she figured out who our potential unsub was and I can’t figure out why...” Spencer begins to trail off when his eyes follow Hotch leaving the interrogation room.

Emily and Morgan follow his eye line and begin to follow after him.

The first thing the doctor notices is that Hotch is more rigid than normal. His brow is furrowed low and his posture is stiff against the table he’s leaning on with his mouth set in a concrete frown and before he can register what just happened in the interrogation room three of his agents are standing in front of them asking for their co worker. A deep and tired sigh can be heard before the trio of agents is rushing toward the room where he just was, JJ and Gideon already watching the scene unfold from behind the two way glass.

A box with the last name Kane scribbled onto the front is slated down on the desk followed by a very angry agent.

The skin around her cuticles is bleeding from being picked at all day but her face is stern and cold so if she truly was as anxious as she had been through the day you would never know.

The dirty cop is relaxed when Y/N sits down in front of him, he’s leant back in the chair with his hands placed on his thighs casually almost as if he’s with a friend or at home and unknowingly to agent L/N her colleagues are less relaxed from behind the glass.

Morgan is first to point out the obvious.

“He doesn't seem nervous or even on edge about being questioned; shows he’s been in that same position before” he states, not taking his eye off the room

Gideon hesitates before he speaks “That’s because he has been: a few years ago he was brought in for substance possession after a bag was found during a warrant in his home”

Derek’s face contorts “why did they have a warrant?”

Agent Gideon doesn’t look at Morgan when he replies “illegal firearm possession as well as concerns of domestic violence both charges were dropped”

Your eyes briefly look up from the manila folder in your hands containing details of each of the murders in you hand to the man sitting in front of you. A picture of a middle aged woman is put directly in front of the officer “I don’t have to ask you if you know who this is because we know you were with her the night before she died” you state

Nick kisses his teeth “yes, I was with her the night before but I was also with her husband”

“her husband who has a solid alibi unlike you” another photo comes out from the folder “she went missing at five am and was found around seven thirty am in a bush, her husband had left for work at four thirty and clocked in five thirty”

Two more sets of photos are spread in front of the offender and he was only yet to shift in his seat. You kept eyeing the other folders in the box, the older ones but you were waiting for an opportunity one where he would just slip up and you’d have him.

Spencer’s nails may have well been chewed to the bed from pure anxiety of seeing you sit in that room. You’d obviously done interrogations like this before but a feeling that spencer couldn’t shake was sitting at the bottom of your stomach.

With Hotch now back in the room everyone was even more on edge.

“He hasn’t said anything useful while she’s been in there?” the monotone voice broke through the silence of the onlooking room.

“Not yet but the more photos she pulls out the more on edge he gets. Not noticeably to anyone but a profiler of course but he seemingly gets a little bit more uneasy every time a new victim is pulled out of the folder” JJ informs. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Reid chewing on his nails while not taking his eyes off of his girlfriend she slaps his hand away and passes a small smile to let him know that you knew what she was doing.

“Reid what’s the matter with you? She can take care of herself” Gideon calmly asks. The debate going on in the youngest team members head is a hard one because on one hand he doesn’t want to sound like a paranoid boyfriend but on the other he needs some reassurance and maybe his superiors can give that to him.

“Y/N has been on edge since we took this case on and I know it’s because she grew up here and there were people she grew up with murdered but since she got the idea into her head that this was our guy I just feel like she’s hiding something” the ramble stops and eyes fall on Reid but his only concern is what Jason Gideon thinks

Jason purses his lips “I know she’s hiding something but thought nothing of it because I was under the assumption that you knew what it was” for the first time since entering the room Spencer and Jason make eye contact.

“Your boss asked me about the scars on my neck”

Reid’s concentration is lost and once again all eyes are back on you

“Did he now?” Your shock is masked by the cold set frown that you’ve had on your face since the minute you stepped into the station.

Kane leans forward over the desk, his hands coming together infant of him “yes he did, was very curious to hear about how I got them which made me think: if Aaron Hotchner isn’t aware of how I got them then certainly your little boyfriend isn’t either” the smirk is set on his face

Reid’s ears perk up

“I was under the impression that you had to have a clean record to go into the FBI work that you do”

you lean forward in the slightest “My record is squeaky clean. Yours on the other hand, isn’t”

Eyebrows raise in surprise.

You pull another folder from the box but this time it’s dated back to seven years ago when domestic violence complaints first started getting called in. First piece of paper is pulled out and you continue to read.

“Complaints of screaming, excessive cussing from two of your neighbours, January 16th 2004, yet again complaints of screaming, cussing and loud bangs July 25th 2004, sudden screaming and what sounded like a heavy piece of furniture falling March 16th 2005, same thing November 21st and 25th, Glass shattering, shouting police are called but nothing gets further done August 2006″ you pause from your reading and look him dead in the eyes.

Left hand rubs forehead

Another folder.

“April 2007 a warrant was issued for your home for suspected possession of substances, charges dropped. Any further domestic violence complaints or charges were dropped after May that same year until September 2009 when your wife was sent to hospital with critical injuries; the matter was under further investigation until early January of 2010 when you wrote a cheque for $14,000 to get those charges dropped and cleared”

Hand rubs scars, obviously a nervous habit picked up after the incident

The man shifts in his seat again “Don’t think I’ve forgotten because I haven’t” the sentence grinds it’s way through his teeth

You merely relax your posture and speak calmly “Not my record, not my problem” a small smirk sits comfortably on your face. “We know what you did to these women, Nick. This case has your name written all over it.”

From the opposite side of the glass spencer wracks his brain to put all the pieces together “not my record, not my problem” he mumbles to no one in particular. The genius looks back on old conversations only to realise one topic that had never really come up in conversation between the two of you.

“The mother” he says out loud. Confused faces cast their attention to the doctor.

Spencer hesitates “When she talks about the record, she’s talking about her mother”

Emily raises an eyebrow “How’d you figure that?”

Gideon intercepts before his agent can even get a word in “You ever seen a man make scratches like that?”

“Know what I did? My family fell apart, I have no one” His hands slam on the table sitting between the both of you “I bet you don’t even know what you’re talking ab-”

This time it’s your turn to slam the desk

“I know damn well about the four counts of aggravated assault against an officer, the drug possession, the attempted fraud! I know every last fucking bit of it! I know you try to pull my brother in here to charge him with whatever you can! the number of vandalism charges and assault charges don’t even scratch the surface!” anger surges through you and suddenly Spencer has it all figured out.

“So what makes you so clean huh? Why does assault cover your immediate families records but not your own huh?!” He spits at you

You’ve had enough

Quick to stand, the chair you were sitting on suddenly slides back behind you, hands are planted firmly on the top of the table and now you’re standing right over him

JJ jumps back in fright straight into Derek who takes no time to grab her and steady her. Emily and Gideon are speechless, not once has anyone seen you react to something like that. Hotch places a firm hand on Spender’s shoulder which ultimately goes unnoticed. He gets it now.

Colour drains from his face

“I’m better at controlling my temper but I’ll still hit you twice as hard” the words flow out of your mouth so calmly anyone standing outside the door might think you were talking to a frightened child.

Eyes search for any sign of remorse and find none

Garcia calls Derek’s phone to let him and the team know that while Ellie had escaped, Nick got sloppy and left something behind.

Gideon’s voice filters through your earpiece “DNA was found on Ellie”

You can’t help but smile

“Your DNA has just been found on your most recent victim Nick, you’ve got nothing left”

Got him.

The box of files is in your hands when you walk out of the interrogation room and practically body slam your boyfriend. Kind eyes look down at you pleadingly “Got given the all clear to go home, do you want to have a chat?” the sentence is just above a whisper but the genuine worried expression etched upon his face is all you need to know.

Spencer starts the engine before driving out of the carpark and onto the road. Thick silence sits in the air and all of a sudden the car feels to small even though you are the only two in it. Mindlessly picking at your fingernails means you didn’t notice Spencer pulling into the McDonalds drive through to order two hot fudge sundaes with extra topping - your tradition after a particularly difficult case. He wordlessly hands you the tray while he picks the furtherest car park in the parking lot and stops the car. You hand him his ice cream and noticing his chewed nails you grab his hand.

“Spence”

“Watching you in there today was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do but knowing that you felt like you couldn’t come to me based off of the fact that you thought I-I would be upset or angry or not understanding was something that I don’t know how to deal with” He grabs the ice cream tray off of your lap and places them in the cup holder before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning his full attention to you.

“Y/N you mean the world to me, truly you do, I can’t think of anyone else in this world I would want to spend the rest of my life with so I’m telling you now that I love you unconditionally and I want you to know that even if that didn't happen today and you didn't feel like you would be able to tell me about your family I would happily wait for as long as you needed me to until you felt like you were ready for that and I’m sorry that he felt the need to say it in front of myself and our team.

His hands are cold against your flushed face and you flutter your eyes closed momentarily before looking hime in the eye.

“I didn't want this to affect my work life or the opinions of our team or your opinion of me I was- well I- I hid it because I want to prove to people that I can come from a household like that and still be a good person. a good agent” your confession made his eyes glass over and his smile soften.

“You have proved yourself time and time again to not only me but to the team. You handled it so well today even after what he chose to say to you. Y/N I am so unbelievably proud of you and the person you are, nothing is going to change that” His thumb stroked your cheek before he giggled to himself

“Plus telling him that you could hit him twice as hard was pretty hot I’m not gonna- hey! no! I’m being serious”

The sound of your laughs filled the car and the once heavy feeling was now light and airy when he brought your lips to his.

“Spence, these ice creams are gonna melt and I want to eat them”

#long reads #spencer x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #doctor reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #pegswrites

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