#that he was two-spirit and i was talking to my mom about it and said that he shouldn’t have called himself that bc he&: white and she BLEW
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
idiopathicsmile · 1 year ago
Text
you know what really grinds my gears?
okay, bear with me: so as you may know, harry houdini and arthur conan doyle were friends, at least for a while.
by the early 1920s, both arthur conan doyle and acd's wife jean, aka lady doyle, believed whole-heartedly in spiritualism, talking to ghosts and all of that. (sidenote: this was of course right on the heels of a devastating world war and a devastating pandemic, both of which had created a huge population of grieving people, so spiritualism was having a moment.)
lady doyle sincerely thought she had the ability to go into a trance state and pass along messages in writing from the dead. she offered to do this for houdini. houdini agreed.
lady doyle attempted to channel houdini's late mother. she basically drew a cross at the top of the paper and filled it with generic platitudes addressed to "harry." houdini's mom was jewish and didn't talk like that, so houdini knew the jig was up, even if lady doyle didn't. but not wanting to make the situation awkward, he kind of went along with it to their faces.
then acd decided to publish a glowing account of the seance, and since both he and houdini were super famous, it got a lot of attention, and letters started pouring in for houdini, asking if this was true. ultimately, houdini couldn't lie about it. so he essentially said, like, "yeah, i think lady doyle THINKS she can talk to ghosts but she absolutely can't." and it ruined his friendship with acd forever.
and then of course a lot of the people running seances weren't even well-intentioned like lady doyle, they were just simple charlatans taking advantage of traumatized people mourning loved ones. in houdini's youth, he and his wife had traveled the carnival circuit where he did an act pretending to commune with spirits, so he knew all the tricks of the trade AND he had lingering guilt over having done this, AND he was infuriated by this increasingly popular wave of con artists so he decided to assemble a team of anti-grifting grifters and together they went on the road exposing whichever spiritualists were preying on the locals.
houdini's best agent was a young woman named rose mackenberg, who donned disguises to visit the fraud de jour and then importantly sussed out what non-supernatural thing was actually happening, and then houdini would demonstrate the techniques onstage to packed audiences.
(if you want to know more, check out episode 175, "ghost racket crusade" of the podcast Criminal or read Tony Wolf's book The Real-Life Ghostbusting Adventures of Rose Mackenberg.)
but yeah, what really gets my goat is that all this happened and as far as i know, we still don't have like four seasons of a Leverage-style historical procedural about rose mackenberg and the rest of the crew having adventures in the 1920s as they unmask craven hucksters all over the united states. (what we do have, apparently, is one season of a show called "houdini and doyle" which is about the oddball friendship of two contrasting men solving sometimes-actually-supernatural mysteries, and whose premise does i think at the very least a real disservice to houdini's whole quest and also totally erases rose, who is arguably the most interesting part of this story to me.)
i am just steamed about this. steamed.
11K notes · View notes
Text
DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.
~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~
The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base. John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?
Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously. Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast. Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really? Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price. Phantom: Deal.
What is the price? John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.
The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood. Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy. Danny: You and I have a contract~ Red Hood: All right, all right. Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.
Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience. Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts? Batman: He…what?!
~~~~~~~
Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous! Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~
Dick: NoOOoo
~~~~~~
Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John. Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that. Jason: What? Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he.. Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.
Danny: Sorry :(
Jason: No. Say it again.
~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~ Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent. Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool. Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and.. Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you? Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.
So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.
He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice. Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies? Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes? Jason: Nay Danny: But why? You want something else? Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange. Danny: I can bring sweets if you want. Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.
~~~~
Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself. Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions. Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.
Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum. Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want? Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday. Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services. Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.
~~~~~~
Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk. Danny: All right? Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?! Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now. Jason. Still Todd. And what about that? Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you. Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract. me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend. Danny: And I am!
~~~~~~
Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night? Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir. Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea. Danny:...Jason? Jason: N-no. Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?! Jason: Cosplay. Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye. Jason: fu%&c$#u
7K notes · View notes
evanpetersmybf · 10 months ago
Text
Be mine?
Tate Langdon x female!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.
Genre: Smut.
Word count: 3,172
Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.
A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ
Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.
He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.
He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.
Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.
“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.
He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.
“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”
“Huh, excuse me?”
“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.
You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.
“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”
“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”
“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”
He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.
“Have you listened to Nirvana?”
“Just like… Two songs?”
“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”
“Guilty.”
Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?
After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.
For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.
“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.
Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.
After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.
In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.
“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.
“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.
He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.
“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.
“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”
“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”
‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.
He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.
Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.
That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.
He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.
“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”
Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.
“I’m sorry, what did you?—”
“Did you like the song?”
“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”
You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”
He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.
The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.
With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.
He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.
Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.
Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.
The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.
He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.
Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.
That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.
One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.
“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.
“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,
You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”
Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.
He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.
“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.
“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”
“No.”
“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.
Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.
His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.
His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.
“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.
“Hahah, you funny.”
He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.
“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”
“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.
“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”
This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.
Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.
After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.
His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.
The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.
He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.
“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.
Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”
“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.
Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.
“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.
This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.
Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.
He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.
“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.
His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.
Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”
“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.
Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.
She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.
“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”
He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.
You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.
Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.
He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.
“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.
He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.
The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.
His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.
Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.
He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.
“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.
“Tate, I feel like I’m—”
“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”
You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.
All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.
“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”
You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”
Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”
You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.
“Y/N…?”
“Mh, what is it, Tate?”
“I love you… Please be mine?”
2K notes · View notes
blackbyakko · 3 months ago
Text
In Defense of Vanessa
All of the peeps hating on Vanessa and Wade ‘a relationship in Deadpool 3 need to expand their imaginations a bit lol.
Do you think Vanessa, the woman who fought so so hard to keep Wades spirits up when he got his cancer diagnosis, whose after fucking DYING in the second film told him that he had to continue on living and supported him to live a good life despite her not being in it, and upon seeing Wade after he ghosted her and then showed back up looking SOOOOO fugly (he’s adorably fugly) and her first reaction was to look lovingly into this man’s eyes and say “That is a face that I’d be happy to sit on”, would just simply LEAVE him? Just like that???
Y’all, I think we saw a different film lol.
Almost everyone in Wade’s life, has either belittled him, or have actively shown their distaste for him known at some point (Peter, Yukio, and Dopender my beloveds, we’re not talking about you). Vanessa from the get-go, matched Wade’s freak. When we saw Wade’s flashback of their break up, Vanessa never said that she wanted to break up with him. We heard HIM Say that if she wanted to leave him to get it over with already. One of Wades biggest character flaws throughout the film has been that he pushes people away through humor and through insults because he is terrified of being vulnerable with them. Vanessa is the only person throughout the films that, even when he’s hurt, he lets himself be vulnerable around her, even post break up. Vanessa didn’t want to leave him, she wanted him to be a better version of himself, because he was wallowing, and not allowing himself to look beyond his insecurities.
Sometimes, doing things for ourselves, for the sake of bettering ourselves is not enough motivation. Wade was not willing to pick himself up and try to live up to his potential until Vanessa encouraged him to. I don’t think she cared if he ever became an avenger or not, but what she cared about was that he had all this potential and no direction and she could see how it was eating him up inside. Why is everyone else in Wade’s life around allowed to rude to him and tell him straight up he’s being a fuckhead, but Vanessa telling him he needs to pick himself up when he takes a knee or asking him to let her walk with him, and when he refuses to do so, wnd gives him some distance when HE PUSHED HER AWAY, makes her the bad guy. You could tell it hurt her when he asked if she was seeing anyone. And that handhold? She absolutely took him back lol. And that’s good! Deadpool is not someone who would sacrifice a loved one to save the world, he would sacrifice the world to save a loved one. And Vanessa is the same, being ride or die from the beginning, and I will not hear her name besmirched.
Also are you really going to tell me that she saw fucking WOLVERINE and didn’t turn to her man and say, “We’re tag teaming him right?” Or that she saw a free child in X23 and didn’t turn to Wade and say “We wanted a kid, so we’re adopting her right?”
Use your imagination people lol. Vanessa would be the first person to drag Wolverine and X23 into their family. She gets a hot new husband and a kid, Wolverine gets a hot new wife and a husband, and X23 gets a new mom and two dads. Everyone wins!
684 notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 4 months ago
Text
YOU CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [9]
Tumblr media
description: the TWO big steps you take together.
word count: 13.5k
trigger warnings: entire mr scratch episode including drugging and suic!de, gore, violence, blood, mention of Diana's schizophrenia, mention of hotch's upbringing
author's note: lets do this again UGH. also set throughout season 10 so even though it seems like a jump its been a whole year bcus I can't write about every day my babies spend together.
previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter
Tumblr media
‘Cause you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home, you can see it with the lights out,
You’re in love. True love,’
The one where you meet his mom. [you have the parenthood talk]
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her thumbnail instinctively picking at the side of her forefinger as her eyes trailed over the dress in the mirror. 
It was a little too chesty, were the sleeves too short? Would his mom not like that it was backless? Backless meant suggestive to some people. Would she hate her piercings? She could take out a couple of her earrings just for one day, cover the hole where her nose ring slipped in with foundation easily. 
Smile, she needed to remember to smile, not that god awful resting bitch face that Elizabeth used to say looked like she’d sucked a lemon between her cheeks. Smile. No, not like that, that looks fake and awkward. 
Was her make up too much? She would hate for Spencer’s mom to think she looked like a hooker. A cheap one at that. 
She felt his hands on her shoulders before the throes of her vicious mind could nab her once more, and her eyes trailed behind her in the reflective, if not slightly fingerprinted, mirror. 
“You’re thinking loud,” Spencer said as if it was a fact, though that tended to be the way with him, since he knew damn near everything there was to know. Especially about her. “Why are you so worried, it’s my mom. Besides, what’s not to like about you?” 
She huffed, shaking her head even though she really tried her best to give him a smile, instead turning to look down at her hands with wincing, cynical twinge of her lips. 
“Maybe my tattoos or my make up or my slutty dress or my piercings that make me look like I just raided Penelope’s collection of ‘goth chic jewellery’, her words not mine,” She said pessimistically. She didn’t want to dampen the mood, honestly she was looking forward to the woman who graced the world with Spencer Reid (she wondered if a handshake or a hug would be appropriate, she would ask Spence in the car she decided,) “People don’t tend to see me the way you do, honey, I can be blunt and rude and snappy and cold. And it’s your mom, she’s like the most important person in the world to you.”
“She’s joint first, actually” Spencer corrected, trying to lift her spirits even a little. He knew none of the things she was saying were necessarily true. He suspected that voice that had overcome her was not her own at all, more likely her own mother nagging into to her for years to sit up straighter, smile more, make an effort to network and socialise, or any other piece of shit observation about how she acted for Elizabeth to badger her about. 
But then she smiled at him, her eyebrows drawn together a little like she guessed he was lying or perhaps sugarcoating things. 
“You’re allowed to have her first, you know,” Bugsy reassured him, her eyes melty and soft as she looked at him and he nodded, wrapping his arms around her stomach, almost like he was trying to suck the negativity out of her whole body through diffusion of their skin alone. “She’s your mom,” 
“I know,” Spencer said simply, their eyes never breaking the gaze at one another, and Bugsy felt herself warm inside when she saw just how besotted his forest hues were, “Please stop worrying, she’s going to love you,”
“You can’t know that for sure,” She pushed back, because when had she ever allowed herself to enjoy a good thing when she had it. She knew she was being somewhat of a Negative Nancy, and she didn’t mean to be, truly. But Diana Reid was possibly the most significant person in Spencer’s life, despite what he said. And Bugsy was… Bugsy. All teeth and chaos and bite and vicious tongue when she didn’t mean to be. 
If Diana didn’t like her, she wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to look at Spencer again without blurting out the million ways she’d try to make it up to him.
“Oh, I do know for sure actually,” He said, spinning her around so he could see her first hand, not in a reflection or a mirror image, and she smiled despite herself, pressing into his lean body and taking a big whiff of his freshly washed clothes. It was the same detergent she used, the same one he’d always used, and yet it was so Spencer it made her skin crawl with what she thought felt like warm goosebumps.
“Oh yeah?” He nodded proudly, and she progressed to a grin, her chin leaning against his chest as she spoke, and he stroked her neatly braided hair away from her face to see her better, like he’d won the second he saw her smile properly, “How do you figure that one out, wonder boy?”
“I’ve mentioned you in almost every single letter I’ve written to her for three whole years. When she saw the photo of you I sent her, she asked if I’d cut you out of a vogue magazine,” Spencer said and she burst out laughing. He couldn’t say he blamed his mom, the photo he’d sent had been one of Bugsy’s best, but then he’d be willing to argue all of them were just as newsworthy as the last. And nothing compared to the real thing. “You make me happy, happier than I ever thought I was allowed to be. Believe me, I know she’ll love you, because I love you,” 
Bugsy smushed her face into his sweater to hide her modesty, and she pressed a small, barely there kiss to where her lips met even if he wouldn’t feel it. 
“Does my hair look okay?” She checked again, her voice muffled by his thick knitted clothes, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, stroking a gentle hand down her spine. 
“You look beautiful,” He said softly, pulling her away from his body and holding onto her right hand, “Give me a spin,”
He lifted her hand above her head, despite the fact she seemed reluctant and embarrassed, “Spence,”
“We’re not leaving until you give me a spin,” He teased, and his smile was infectious as she twirled around beneath his grasp, the long, floral, sundress fanning out around her knees, “And back again!”
“Spencer-” She said with a chuckle, but he seemed to ignore her, or judging by his smile that spread across his whole face he didn’t care.
“Sorry, it’s just the rules,” He said, though she was almost certain there wasn’t ever such a thing as a rulebook on how to make your girlfriend less of a whiny bitch.
He spun her back around, and by the time she whirled around to face him a second him, his arm dropped down to secure around her waist, yanking her towards him to press a scorching hot kiss to her lips. 
She kissed him back, her tongue trailing against his lip and Spencer’s obscenely large hand released her waist, trailing up her sides to cup her cheeks. Spencer kissed her like she was sucking air right out his lungs, like he was receiving life saving medicine, like he was being graced by an angel, a non-believer, a man of science reaching out to the white gates of heaven as if they were about to disappear under his touch. 
They parted with a small smack that reverberated in the bathroom, and Bugsy looked at him as if he’d infected her with a drug, because truthfully that was how his touch, his kiss, made her feel. 
They settled in his car, a few soft and loving affections later, because she really did look beautiful and he could apologise for smudging her lipstick another time, and Spencer it was the first time in a long time that Spencer felt like his future was laid out in front of him. 
She fretted some more in the lobby, the woman behind the desk at the sanitarium lighting up at the sight of Spencer walking towards her with a smile. 
“Dr. Reid,” She enthused, noting the woman next to him that squoze a book to her chest tightly like she wasn't sure what her fingers might do if they were let loose, “She’s been so excited to see you, her doctors said she’s responding well to the new medication,” 
“I heard, I’m glad to hear she’s feeling calmer,” He said, his eyes trailing past the brunette who tapped away at her keyboard idly, “Where is she?”
“She’s just in the sunroom. She’s been learning how to crochet, just like you said,” The receptionist smiled kindly at Bugsy, who looked all but terrified, though she hid it well through tight lips. 
Spencer nodded, reaching up to put a hand between Bugsy’s shoulder’s to lead her through the lounge area where a few other residents watched a black and white movie. 
“Are you sure my make up looks okay, my mascara hasn’t ran has it?” She whispered, because a few other people, some even her age, were sitting in comfy armchairs flicking through books. 
Spencer smiled at her, because she was so cute when she was nervous, usually it was the other way around, “You look lovely, you always look lovely,”
“I believe that’s what’s called voter bias, Dr Reid,” She said, because jokes and wit always seemed to release the pressure on her head when she was stressed. 
He chuckled, opening the door to a large room filled on all sides with windows, and the cosy heat hit her in the face, “Not if what I’ve said is a verifiable fact.” 
“Who’s your secondary source, Dr?” She said, because they seemed to fall into a nerdy sort of teasing when they were like this. Facts and figures were predictable, getting your boyfriend’s mother to like you based entirely on your personality was not. 
“My mom,” Spencer said, and her head whipped to his, ready to protest when he led her to the corner of the sunroom, where a woman sat with her ocean blue eyes screwed up in concentration where two blush pink hooks were crossing and bobbing between a cream thread of yarn, “Mom,”
Her eyes flew up from where she sat, immersed in the delicate movements. Spencer had said a few weeks ago her hands were becoming stiff on her new tablets, that the side effects were making her circulation poor and so Bugsy had been out to help him pick up a crochet kit from Walmart the very same day.
“Mom, this is Bugsy,” He said, and it was his turn to be almost shy as he gestured to the young woman. “The girl I was telling you about,”
Diana stopped for a moment, as if assessing the new face, the way her hair fell around her ears, and Bugsy clutched the hardback tighter to her chest, thinking that maybe she should have gone for something a little fancier than the small piece of twin that wrapped around the present. First time meeting his mom and this was the best you could do, really Bugsy? Where’s the flowers or even another ball of yarn to keep her occupied? 
Bugsy swore her breath caught, her brows furrowing together worriedly as she went to hold a shaky hand out to Diana, but then second guessed herself when she wondered if the loathing of spreading germs was shared between Spencer and his mom. She’d forgotten to check when they were in the car- stupid- stupid girl.
“H-hello, Mrs Reid,” She said quietly, shakily, holding out the book to the woman. Diana Reid looked good for her age, considering Spencer had told her on numerous occasions that she struggled to pretty herself up the way she used to before her Schizophrenia had spiralled. But her hair was a warm blonde with only small traces of grey in it, short around her neck likely for practicality, and despite the fact her face seemed somewhat grumpy, though Bugsy would describe her as lost more than anything, she lit up like a damn firework on the fourth of July the second she saw her son. 
“Spencer!” She exclaimed, holding a hand out for her son to take, which he did so without hesitation. Bugsy thought she might be going in for a hug, maybe that she’d missed the hint that Bugsy was trying to greet her, which the young girl didn’t mind one bit. She was well aware she was stepping on their time together, “Help me out of this chair, I left my glasses in my room, I want to see her,” 
Bugsy felt heat rush to her cheeks as Diana all but threw her crochet set to the little table beside what seemed to be a lukewarm mug of coffee, and Spencer helped her out of the recliner, Bugsy holding out another hand in case she needed it. She was tall once she stood to full height, taller than Bugsy would have thought she would be, and hands were on her shoulders the second Diana had released her son. 
“Oh, look at you!” Diana exclaimed, and Bugsy tried not to falter with embarrassment under her words. But his mother’s hands were soft, if not rough on the tips where she had spent her life flicking through pages on pages of literature, “I’ve always told Spence he was a looker but, my god, you’re a catch even for him,” 
“Mom,” He said indignantly, but Bugsy chuckled through flaming cheeks. Diana waved him off in favour of smiling at the girl, and the second she met eyes with the woman who had raised Spencer Reid she saw where he got his good heart from. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Reid,” She stumbled over her words, trying for a second time to give her the book, and Diana looked almost aghast that she had brought her a present, “Spencer said you’d finished all your books they let you keep here so I bought you one of my favourites-”
“How could I resist The Great Gatsby,” Diana said, running a polished thumb over the gold printed writing, a small smile playing at her lips, “I’ve been meaning to brush up on Fitzgerald,”
Spencer smiled at his mother, who seemed more full of life than she had in weeks, before she waved her hand in front of the two of them, and Bugsy wondered if she had done something wrong. 
“And none of this Mrs Reid crap. You're not the IRS, Diana is just fine, honey,” She said, and Bugsy grinned, nodding in agreement with the older woman. “Mom is even better if you’re feeling brave,” 
“O-okay, absolutely,” She said, smiling even wider when Spencer seemed almost aghast his mother was being so brazen. Though he needn’t be so prudent, Bugsy was certain she loved her already. 
“And how is my big strong FBI agent?” Diana turned to her son finally and he shook his head, his eyes full of boyish affection for the women. 
“There’s dozens of words I think would perfectly describe me yet ‘big and strong’ fall nowhere in that category, mom,” He said, smiling widely at his mother who rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder. She seemed more like herself than she had in years, her eyes were clearer, her nerves weren’t shot like usual. She seemed like the mother from his best memories. 
“Alright, how does ‘contumelious’ work out for you?” She cracked back, and he laughed, shaking his head and he caught the pure warm grin radiating from Bugsy’s direction at the two of them. 
And Bugsy saw in the kind, devoted eyes that hid behind Diana’s fluffy white, blonde hair where Spencer got his gentle soul; as if no amount of medication or illness would ever make his mother let up on the tenderness she held for him. She felt it in the air alone, the way they fell into sync only blood could ever achieve, and for a flash of a thought, Bugsy wondered if Spencer would be so doting on their children. 
And for the first time all day she didn’t need to second guess herself. She already knew the answer. 
“And this was Spencer in the mathletes,” Bugsy’s hand flew to her mouth to suppress the ‘aww’ threatening to tumble from her lips, because she knew from the way his cheeks had turned a bright rouge that he was embarrassed and she hated to make him feel like she was finding humour in his shame. 
It was easy to see which one was him from the offset. Three college boys who had probably spent the best part of their first years begging sorority girls to fuck them and eating funny brownies stood at the back, atleast in their late teens judging by their late-adolescene acne and braces. Yet there, standing in front of them dressed in a tweed sweater vest and pressed brown trousers as if he was a small grandpa, was a scrawny pole of a boy, peeking out from behind a sweeping fringe in need of a trim and a pair of  bubble-like glasses. 
He was smiling wide, holding some sort of trophy in between his slender, little fingers, and Bugsy could bet her entire savings that he had answered almost all of his team’s questions. 
“Spence,” She murmured, taking the photo gently between her fingertips where she sat in between her partner and his mother at the foot of Diana’s bed, “You were so cute,” 
“You can just say dorky,” He corrected, fighting the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands, because he could feel the way they gave away his self-consciousness. 
But she shook her head, leaning into him with adoring eyes as she stared at the photo, “No, I mean cute. Look at your little hair, you were so tiny- aw!” 
He laughed awkwardly, not missing the way she put a hand on his leg in reassurance, and Diana handed her another photo of a toddler with thick dark hair, those hazel eyes she loved, huge and round on the baby's smiling face. Bugsy melted when she saw the milk teeth gleaming in the midst of his laugh, yet she burst into sheepish giggles when she realised baby Spencer had no clothes on. 
Spencer’s eyes widened when he saw the thing dangling between his legs as the picture captured him crawling towards where Diana had the camera. “Mom!” 
Diana rolled her eyes, producing another one of Spencer watering the flowers with the garden hose, barely one year old in a bucket hat and, yet again, nothing else. “Oh, Spencer, don’t give me that, look how cute those little butt cheeks were,” 
Bugsy slapped a hand over her mouth, her brows pulling together at the endearingly innocent photos, and she met Spencer’s gaze again, the urge to squish his cheeks in between her fingers suddenly itching her hands. Though, judging by the embarrassment in his expression, he wouldn’t like it very much even if she did mean the best of intentions.  
“You were so adorable,” She confessed, looking back down at the two tiny, round butt cheeks that made something well in her chest because it was Spencer, so small and vulnerable and helpless. She turned to Diana, her eyes wide with love, “How did you not want just millions of them?” 
The woman laughed, leaning against Bugsy and palming off another photo, this time of Spencer in swimming trunks at the beach, likely around two or three, a line of white sun cream running down his nose and cheeks as he looked to be grumbling about the sand on his legs. 
“Because I knew none of them could ever be as special as my Spencer, and then that just wouldn’t be fair on them.” She said simply, and Bugsy smiled at the woman, truly smiled, because despite everything her illness set against her, she loved her son more than anything in the world. “You don’t win the lottery and then pawn in your rings for a couple bucks, now do you?” 
Bugsy chuckled, shaking her head. Elizabeth had never been so doting on her. She knew she shouldn’t think about her, shouldn’t compare the two of them because they weren’t similar even in the slightest. Diana was a single mother of a deadbeat husband who left, she battled a disease day in-day out that threatened to eat away at her brain, her memories of her son who thought the world of her, and she was still a better mother than hers had ever been. 
Part of her felt that bitter sting that never really left her since she was thirteen, since she saw the maid at breakfast time more often than she ever saw her mother, the kid that got picked up and dropped off in another country like she was furniture, a barbie doll for her mother to primp and clean and boast about her big brain to her colleagues without ever showing a semblance of affection for the girl reading material eight years above her grade level. 
Diana was living proof that no matter what, it’s not a challenge to love your children the way Elizabeth had always made it out to be, that she was difficult to love even for her own mother. 
Bugsy bit the emotion back, knowing it was just the baby photos ramping up her hormones, and felt herself fall perhaps even more in love with Spencer Reid when she saw the photo of him at Christmas dressed as a Jedi. 
She was quiet on the way home, her stomach warm with fondness, her hand warm with his palm as they held hands on top of the gearstick. 
She watched the last of the sun peek through the trees in a cantaloupe orange and candy-floss pink swirl, and she let herself close her eyes under the day’s worth of laughter. 
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer said after a moment, giving her hand a small squeeze when she didn’t answer right away, and he wondered if she may have even fallen asleep, feeling immediately guilty for waking her. 
She looked at him with an uneasy smile on her face, and his brain threw up a million different reasons for it, almost all of them making him worry.
“I know my mom is a lot,” He said, his tone jittery and she started shaking her head immediately, forgetting he couldn’t see where he was looking at the road, “I know she’s-”
“She’s wonderful, Spencer. God, no, it’s not that. I loved her,” Bugsy cut him off, and his shoulder’s immediately sagged in relief. She moved her hand to tuck a single lock of hair behind his ear, and he nudged into her touch on instinct. 
“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, his brows pulled together in worry as they came to a red stop light, and he put the Beetle into neutral. He looked over at her then, and he saw the way the grin had slipped off her face, leaving her with something oddly unreadable, though if he had to put a name to it, he would say doubtful, and she swallowed thickly. 
“Do you ever worry…” She paused herself, because she already could see their picture perfect day spiralling down the drain like yesterday’s woes, “It’s nothing, just forget I said anything,”
“No, tell me,” Spencer insisted, and the road around them seemed to hold its breath waiting for her reply. He’d taken a nice route home, claiming he wanted to skip the eight pm traffic, whatever that was, had cut through one of those neighbourhoods they show on holiday brochures or estate agents' windows. The kind people with kids and volvo’s and yoga mom groups lived in.  
Her eyes snapped out the front window when four young boys zipped past them on their bikes, their knees muddy from where they’d probably spent the day playing soccer, their clothes just as messy and torn, likely waiting to be scolded by their mothers for their recklessness. And pulling up the rear was a kid smaller than the others, jogging after them, wanting to cross the road before the light turned green, his glasses slipping down his nose with every step, and some weird, small part in Bugsy’s gut wanted to throw her arms around him and walk him home to make sure he got there safely. 
Spencer’s hand was on her thigh, pulling her out of her thoughts for a second time, and she blinked a little too harshly, wishing she could just enjoy a lovely day for what it was rather than putting such a downer on things. 
“I haven’t spoken to my mom since Emily’s funeral,” She said, swallowing heavily, and understanding passed over his face then. He knew he would never have with Elizabeth what they had just had with his mother. Even if she retired tomorrow and wasn’t jetting off to another country every week, Elizabeth Prentiss was a cold, shrewd woman who could make someone, mainly her daughters, feel empty just by being in the same room. 
Her damning grey eyes, her tight lips that never smiled, her harsh brow. 
“I don’t think she even kept any of my baby photos, none that don’t have her in them at least,” She confessed, and the lights flashed to amber, then green, and he was forced to let go of her for just a moment as he pulled off again, “I don’t… I don’t think she ever liked me.”
He had no idea what to say that would make it better. Usually he was so good at wriggling her problems out from the core, proving all her worst fears were wrong with simple logic. Yet he was at an end. Because Elizabeth had never shown any sign of loving her daughters, truly loving them beyond trophies. 
“I’m sure that’s not true,” He tried, pulling over to stop at the curb because he hated speaking to her when he was distracted. “Some people just have a funny way of showing these things,” 
But she shook her head, turning her eyes to her lap, “Your mom is… Amazing. And I feel like a total asshole for complaining about mine when yours is sick most of the time. And I know things weren’t great- I mean you were just a kid, you should have never had to look after her, it’s supposed to be the other way around, you know? But you’ll know she’s always loved you, like truly, truly loved you. I mean, you’re her whole world,” She rushed, like the thoughts had been bouncing around her head all day, waiting to burst out at the seams, which they had. 
Spencer took the keys out of the ignition, shuffling in his seat to face her, and he only realised then she was watching where the four boys had taken off down the street on their bikes, the smallest one trailing at the back like a lost puppy. 
“Don’t you ever worry sometimes I’ll be..” She started, and he knew where it was going before she forced herself to finish. Taking her hand in his, weaving his fingers between hers and squeezing them tight. 
“Like your mom?” He said for her because the words were lingering in the air like alphabet soup. She nodded silently, grateful that he always seemed to know how her brain was ticking over. She reminded herself to make it up to him later, “Never,”  
“But-” She started, and he grabbed her chin then, forcing her to look at him. He smiled dopily, because usually it was him who needed to be told how other people felt, and she swore his eyes had never looked so sweet. 
“Never,” He repeated, feeling the smile spreading under his fingertips as it took the second turn for her to hear it, “If anything, I worry more about becoming like my dad,”
Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head again. Sometimes Spencer wondered if she knew she was so expressive. It was one of his favourite parts about her.
“Never,” She echoed back to him, and they shared a sombre smile, squeezing each others hand just that bit tighter, “I tell you what, the second either one of us starts becoming our parents, we have the right to call them a jackass,”
He laughed, nodding his head and leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to hers, “Alright, deal. Although I think I hear Freud rolling in his grave at that statement.” 
She kissed him, hard, because she would never be able to tell him exactly how he made her feel with words alone. Over two hundred thousand words in the English Language, at least five other languages she could speak fluently, and yet not one of them knew how to describe this feeling. Like she had been absorbed so completely, effortlessly, by Spencer Reid. That she was disease ridden, riddled with Reid. 
And the thought made her giggle into the kiss, because she would have to tell him some other time. Her hand ran through his hair, pulling him closer, and his hand skirted down to her waist to tease underneath her shirt. 
They pulled away after a moment, staring with the same dazed look in their eyes. 
“We have three more days in Vegas,” She started, fixing his collar and hair with idle fingers and pressing an absent peck to his lips, “Do you think we could go back one more time? To see your mom? If that’s okay with her, of course,” 
And he smiled widely at her, nodding and pulling her in for another long kiss. They had a dinner reservation in a half hour, but he didn’t mind being five minutes late for once in his life, not if it meant he was with her. 
The one with Scratch. [he buys a ring]
He’d walked past the jewellers three times that week on his way back from the coffee shop. Bugsy had a fair bit of paperwork to catch up on, despite him offering to halve her load with her because Hotch had already warned them once about the complaints he got from the other agents that she was using Reid’s memory as an unfair advantage, although he would argue that her brain was just as capable as his. 
So, he’d been sent on a coffee run alone. He wasn’t complaining, it was just down the road, barely even a five minute walk, and it meant he got to look at the range of neatly cut diamonds in peace.
He wasn’t looking to buy it soon, at least that was what he’d told himself the first time he’d seen the pretty one in the corner. He was just having a browse, perhaps just looking at the watches they had on display and his eye had happened to fall to the women’s section below. The second time he’d stopped for a look, it was just to see if anyone had bought that one he’d seen the first time, and when he realised they hadn’t, his heart gave a somewhat relieved sigh that he decided he would confront later. 
By the third time, the shop keeper stuck his head out the door, making Spencer jump. 
“Either you’re buying or you’re fogging up my window, kid,” The old man’s voice was gruff, but he had kind eyes, that of a romantic, and Spencer supposed you didn’t sell a dozen engagement rings a day and not feel hopeful. 
“J-just looking,” He stammered, taking a step away from the rings and double checking he hadn’t gotten any smudges on the glass, “Not to buy right now, just for future reference,”
“No one comes back that many times for future reference, son,” He said with a chuckle and Spencer hated the part of him that said that he was right, “Why not for right now?”
Spencer huffed quietly, wondering if her coffee would be cold by the time he got back at the rate he was going, “It’s still a little early. I don’t want to freak her out,”
She had been his girlfriend for one year, seven months and two weeks (and four days but who was counting). It had been her thirtieth birthday just a couple months ago, as far as he was concerned Bugsy had never dropped any hints about wanting to marry any time soon like he knew other women did at this time in their life. 
He was happy where they were, in their apartment, in their semi-public relationship, with their boys that were starting to look a little grey and rickety on their paws. Spencer didn’t want anything to ruin that, even if that one ring did seem to call out to him like a siren song. 
The jeweller grinned slyly, like he knew something Spencer didn’t, but he nodded at the kid nevertheless, “Well, that little number in the corner you’ve had your eye on has had two offers already, incase that sways your hand at all,” 
And Spencer felt the jolt of injustice in his head at the idea of someone else taking that ring, one that he couldn’t get out of his head the entire way back to the office, one that only went away when he saw her smiling up at him. 
One that only dissolved when he imagined how she would look wearing it. 
“Tell Penelope I said hi,” Director Axelrod murmured, turning on his heel and heading back to his car as Hotch flashed a look down at the paper, the name ‘Peter Lewis’ scribbled out on the line and he passed the paper to Bugsy where she peered around his shoulder. 
“Get this to Garcia, Lewis has his final victim already,” He said and she nodded, the two of them heading back to the car. Bugsy pulled her cell out her pocket, immediately calling their tech whizz where the rest of the team were at the office an hour away. 
“Peter Lewis, born and raised in Jacksonville, Florida. To call him a Math genius would be an understatement,” Garcia reported, her press on nails clicking against the keyboard as she worked in the candlelight since Lewis had hacked into their electric systems. 
“Where was he in the foster system?” Hotch asked, Bugsy holding the phone up over the centre console so they could both speak to their team.
“He was… ugh this WiFi hotspot is the worst,” They waited, Hotch heading for the freeway, “He was not in the foster system. He had two very biological parents and they ran the foster home until it- oh dear,”
“Looks like we found Mr Scratch,” Rossi sighed, and Bugsy’s brows furrowed, waiting for a response. 
“So one of the boys in the house said Peter’s dad would dress up as the devil then the other kids would follow suit, this has to be where all the victims stayed before they were adopted and their names were changed,” JJ chimed in. 
“Did Lewis’s father serve any time?” Bugsy piped up, chewing the inside of her cheek because the whole case had given her the heebie jeebies. Grown ups reporting sights of shadow monsters and waking up with dead loved ones. She thought by now she had heard it all. 
“The case was pending and then he was killed in jail for being a paedophile. Peter’s residency is still listed as Florida,” Garcia said, her mouse whirling around at the speed of light judging by the soft ticks they heard on their end. 
“He broke into FBI files to find someone in witness protection, did any of the kids from the home end up in WITSEC?” Hotch asked, clicking the blinker down to chand lanes and overtake the ford infront of them. 
“That would be… no? No, none of them,” Garcia replied, and the team shared a confused pause. 
“Who the hell is he still hunting?” 
Hotch spoke up, his own mind whirring as to who could possibly be Lewis’ endgame, “Garcia, who ran the investigation in Florida?”
“Hold on, that would be Dr. Susannah Regan, who went into witness protection on a very nice estate in Columbia, Maryland,” Bugsy and Hotch looked at one another, sharing the same thought and the unit chief floored the gas pedal, knowing Regan didn’t have a whole load of time left if Peter had gotten to her already. 
“Send Reid the location, we’re on our way,” Hotch ordered, and Penelope was already ten steps ahead, Rossi and JJ grabbing their vests and heading for the garage. 
Bugsy hung up, checking her gun was still holstered as Hotch launched them the final five minutes to Dr Regan’s home. 
And yet she couldn’t help feel like they were walking into the belly of the beast the victims had been describing. 
Garcia hadn’t been kidding when she said it was a nice estate. By the time they’d gotten out the car, the entire street was silent, a quiet only lots of acres and high gates bought you. 
“You stay behind me, we watch each other's six. We get Dr Regan and we get out, are we clear?” Hotch muttered, his eyes darling to the living room window where the curtains had been pulled closed, one single lamp left lit. 
She nodded, the two of them edging towards the door that had already been left open a crack, “Crystal,” 
He took a second to breath, wondering if they should wait for back up, but Savannah didn’t have alot of time, not if the unsub was already inside like he suspected, before he raised his hand up to the knocker and snapped it a couple times, pushing the door open. 
“Dr Regan?” 
“It’s open, come in,” The woman’s voice called, though it sounded too chipper to be authentic, some sort of uncanny valley as if it was an automated response from an answering machine. 
Checking Bugsy was still behind him, he pushed on, his footsteps light and quiet, eyes scanning the large antechamber, the grand piano sat in front of a huge fireplace cold to the touch, the lights all switched off despite the owner being home. 
Maybe Dr Regan was cheaping out on her bills. But Bugsy doubted it. Something in her gut didn’t sit right. 
“Are you alright?” Aaron called, his torso squeezing against his vest as he scanned what he could see from the room, and she held up behind him, flicking a look over her shoulder every once in a while for movement from the other rooms. 
“Agent Hotchner, I got Agent Rossi’s message,” She said, again in that cheery voice, despite her words claiming she understood she was in peril, and the sound of it made Bugsy’s chest seize with suspicion. 
“Doctor, you’re in danger, you need to come with us,” She explained, her eyes squinting to see in the damning lowlight of the home. 
“I understand,” That robot voice spoke, “I’m in the study,” 
They paused for a second, exchanging another look before pressing on because they had no time to lose over silly hesitations. Passing through the entrance into the room lined with bookshelves on bookshelves, expensive tapestry on expensive tapestry, their heads flicked over to a frail older woman that somewhat resembled the woman they’d been sent from Penelope, when she had was freshly turned twenty five with a sparkly new bookdeal under her nose. 
She sighed in gratitude when the entered, and Bugsy held back a moment as Hotch moved in, keeping her finger on the trigger, “I’m so glad you’re here, you need to see this,” Savannah produced a long, glass sharp letter opener that could easily pass for a knife with the eight inch edge of it, “He wants you to see this.”
And with that, without hesitation or caution she jammed the knife through her own windpipe as if puppeteered by a master, and Bugsy leapt forward to try stop the bleeding just as Aaron did. 
Only she never got that far, because no sooner had she stepped forward a hand reached out from the darkness, grabbing her by the scruff of her hair and throwing her to the floor while she had been caught off guard. Pain exploded behind her eyes as her nose met the hardwood floor, and she swore she cracked a tooth or two. Her hand scrambled out for her gun, only to watch a large black boot stomp down on her digits that made her hiss in pain. 
She heard a scuffle up ahead where Peter had managed to grab Hotch equally unaware, and she watched her unit chief tumble to the floor, smacking his head on the table on his way down. 
And it was then that she smelled it. A raw chemically odour that ran up her bloodied nose, went into her mouth when she tried calling out for Hotch, and it made her cough up a thick mucus before it had even slid down her throat. 
She heard shots fired, and it was enough for her to reach out for her own gun again, hoping that Lewis was distracted enough to not pay attention to her, only to realise somewhere in the scuffle he had kicked her weapon across the floor. 
When had he done that? Why hadn’t she seen him? Probably because the pain behind her eyes had damn near wiped her vision into a blur of white. 
It was then the nausea hit her, the vertigo washing over her like she’d stood up too fast, only she wasn’t standing up at all, in fact she was pretty sure she was on her hands and knees trying to crawl towards Hotch. 
Hotch, who lay on the floor with his own eyes rolling like the room was spinning for him too, and she wondered how on earth anyone could have beaten Hotch. He was a rock, immovable, irreplaceable, forever. 
“Hotch-” She garbled out, her voice tragic and weak in a way he’d never heard before. 
And he opened his mouth to speak, only to find his own voice gone when he saw the figure leering over her body, a glint of a knife in his hand, and Aaron wanted to know how he had managed to emerge out of the shadows when he could have sworn Lewis was right next to him. 
The drug, it had to be the drug. God his eyelids were heavy, what had they been in this house for?
But Aaron felt a scream lodge in his mouth, sounding more like a yelp, something that could have been a mix of ‘no’ and raw anger because Peter had brought one of those big black boots behind him and kicked Bugsy so hard in the gut she flew to her side like roadkill, the wind leaving her lungs with a whimper of pain, and her eyes never left Hotch’s gaze as he did so. 
“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m going to need some alone time with Mr Hotchner here,” Lewis said, and before Aaron could plea or beg, he watched the man lean down and drive a swift line across her throat, as if he were simply gutting a pig, and her carotid artery was sliced clean in two, her blood spewing all over Aaron’s shoes, seeping into the floor. 
And Aaron went to scream, felt the tears well in his eyes because he’d failed her, only this time, unlike Hailey, he was forced to watch every second of life trickle from her face as she bled out onto the floor, choking and clawing at the floor for reprieve. 
What would he say to the team, to Spencer? What would he say to Emily?
Aaron let himself sob, shaking his head in denial and squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hoping to god medical would get here soon. It would be too late by then, he already knew it. 
Bugsy was dead. There wasn’t any miracle fix or band aids that were going to fix that. 
And yet in the next moment the sound of her body writhing in desperation against the floor, the sight of which he couldn’t even bring himself to watch, it had gone quiet. 
And Aaron peeled his eyes open, wondering if she had passed, if she was still in pain, if she wanted someone to hold her hand as she went, and he urged his heavy muscles to do something god damnit anything to help her, except his body felt like lead and even opening his eyes was too much for him. 
But there was nothing there. Not the puddle of blood he’d just watched spill over the flooring, not her hand reaching out for him, clawing at her throat for reprieve and certainly not a body of a girl he once loved like a daughter who would stay with him for a lifetime. 
All of it, just… gone. 
“Don’t you worry, Mr Hotchner, I’m saving the girl for later. Can’t have a pretty thing like that go to waste,” Lewis smiled toothily, and Aaron wanted to wrap his hands around the bastard’s throat, wring the life out of him until he was a crumpled mess on the floor, “But for now, it’s you and me, Aaron. And I think you should answer your phone. Your team are on their way for you,”
Her scream was piercing, cut through two walls. He could hear it the second they stepped out of the car. He’d all but thrown himself out the vehicle before Anderson had even stopped, probably would have barged right through the front door without even drawing his gun if it hadn’t been for Morgan grabbing him. 
“Reid, Reid, no-” Derek said, even though his voice wavered, his head flicking back at the house, “You can’t just head in there without backup, it could be a trap, man,” 
“She’s in there, can’t you hear her?” Spencer said, his eyes wide with terror as the sound of her screaming kicked up a whole other decibel and Spencer's stomach churned at the thought of what might be the root cause of it, “Please, Morgan, I can’t-” 
He didn’t even realise his eyes had welled up at the sound alone until he couldn’t finish his words, and Derek was staring at him with an equally solemn expression. 
JJ rounded the other SUV, Rossi at her tail, their guns drawn low to their thighs as they gave Derek a nod; ready to enter. 
“Just promise me you’ll keep your head, Reid,” Morgan said with a cautious tone. Realistically, Spencer should have stayed back at the office with Kate. He was too emotionally invested in the case, though no one wanted to be the one to argue that with him, knowing Spencer would only fight back that they would all struggle to keep their cool once they entered the house. 
Because the UnSub had Hotch and Bugsy. He’d taken family. He’d made it personal. 
And then, just as Spencer nodded, unholstering his own gun and making sure his vest was tightened at his waist, perhaps the worst happened. 
A shot fired from inside the house, loud and unmistakable over the deafening cries and Bugsy’s screaming stopped. 
Spencer didn’t even remember entering the house, not really, despite his promise to Morgan. He felt like his heart was in his throat, images of Maeve’s brain matter splattered over the warehouse floor flooding his head, because apparently a revolver can cut through two heads at once and still pack a punch.
Spencer was realistic, had sprung into a clinical sort of worry that told him exactly how many times he’d told her he loved her (two thousand, six hundred and seventeen times) and that maybe that wasn’t enough. It told him the amount of kisses they’d shared could have easily been doubled if he dared to steal them more often before bed, if he’d been honest with her years before he had, if he’d just taken five minutes off his showers. 
He had barely survived Maeve dying. If Bugsy was gone… there would be nothing left of him. Nothing important anyway. Just a body, limbs, a heart that would never beat again. He wagered even his blood would stop because the idea of her gone from the world had already made him cold. 
He heard movement in the living room, and judging by the way Derek’s head whipped over to their right, he had too. And before they could raise their guns up to aim, Derek edging forward to kick the door in with pure, simmering rage, a voice sounded out from the other side. 
“In here!”
Hotch. Hotch, who sounded like he was weeping, or at least had a frog in his throat, hummed his words almost. The men drew a breath of relief, Derek reaching forward to open the living room door, his weapon still tight in between his fingers as he pushed. 
“Hotch?” He said, though Spencer’s eyes cast around the room the second he confirmed his unit chief was okay. He had a nasty gash on his head, likely from where he’d fallen, and his pupils were dilated. Drugged. “Hotch, where’s Bugsy?”
“H-he took her-” Aaron slurred, attempting to get to his feet, holding out a hand to the sofa and using the furniture to claw himself up to a stand, “Upstairs I think- I need to get her- Where’s my gun-”
Morgan rushed in to grab Hotch under his arms as Rossi and JJ burst in from the kitchen, Rossi calling out behind them for medical attention. 
“Hotch, you’re not going anywhere, you need to- Reid,” Morgan yelled, but Spencer ignored him. Because he could apologise later. 
Lewis had Bugsy alone, had taken her upstairs, that was what Hotch said. And Spencer couldn’t stand by and wait while they had no idea what was happening to her. He heard JJ’s footsteps pounding behind him, following him up the stairs, and he knew he should be paying more attention for any hint if Lewis was still in the building. But he didn’t. All he could think about was those screams. Raw. Guttural. Like she was being skinned alive. 
His eyes trailed the empty bedrooms, any sign of movement whether it be Lewis or the woman he would trade his own life for in a heart beat if it came down to it. But there was nothing there, not even as JJ swept the other handful of rooms, leaving them with one small storage room at the end of the hallway, and the two of them cast a glance at one another. 
JJ nodded to him, and he reached out a shaky hand, praying on everything in the vast universe he’d spent his entire life learning about that someone heard him begging to keep his Bugsy alive. 
He slid the door open, cocking his gun up to the figure in the corner, his own weapon at his feet as he smiled in a smug manner. 
JJ took stock of their surroundings, waiting for the trap they were walking into to spring, only he held his hands out in surrender. 
Because he had already gotten what he wanted. He had killed Dr Regan, and taken two cops down with him. 
“Where is she?” Spencer spat, handing JJ cuffs as the woman grabbed him harsher than she should do, because the pleased look on his face was infuriating, only made worse by the chuckle that bubbled out of his mouth. 
“She’s in the closet,” He nodded his head to the smallest bedroom, and Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “She sure is a darling, isn’t she? So easy to tame once that smart mouth of hers was gone,” 
Spencer wanted to shoot him between the eyes there and then, put him down like the sick dog he was, but instead he fled after where Lewis had directed him, because he didn’t know if she was injured herself or if it was already too late.
For once in his life, Spencer Reid knew nothing. 
And then he saw her. 
She was alive, thank god she was alive, a dent in her nose that suggested he’d thrown her to the ground face first, her knees skinned, her palms scratched. 
But that wasn’t what worried him.
Because no sooner had he opened the door to the closet, reaching forward to yank her hands off her ears, or maybe pull her for a hug, or maybe break down into sobs and tell her how sorry he was he couldn’t have stopped any of it, she’d started screaming again. 
He didn’t think after so many years on the job he’d ever heard something so gut-wrenching. For a moment he thought he might even be sick. Because it was full of pure terror. Not the childish fright you get from a scary movie or a loop de loop on a rollercoaster, but blood curdling fear like he had never heard before. 
It was enough to have Morgan running up the stairs with his gun drawn, only to see Spencer frozen, his hands reaching out to grab her, and it was only then the agent realised Reid was trying to speak to her. 
“Baby, baby it’s okay, it’s me, it’s Spencer, you know me,” He said, his lip quivering, his words warbling with tears, “Please, please come back to me, I don’t know what to do- please just tell me what to do-” 
“Reid, she’s not herself. Hotch said Lewis made him see things, awful things, just like he did with the other victims,” Morgan said, holstering his gun, his own resolve crumbling when he came closer and realised she had her eyes screwed tightly shut, curling herself into a ball in the corner like a kid trying to hide from the boogey-monster.
But Spencer didn’t listen, he couldn’t accept that they had found her alive and still he had been too late, didn’t want to accept that he had her in his grasp and yet she was still living her a personal hell with no end in sight. 
“Please, please, come back to me,” He sniffled, leaning forward onto his knees to try hold her hands in his, maybe get her to hear his voice and wake up from whatever nightmare she was stuck in, “Come on, I got you,”
“No, no, no, you’re not real, you’re not real,” She screeched, shoving his hands off her, and it was then he saw the dribble of tears running off her nose, “You’re not, I won’t kill him, I won’t-”
It was the ravings of a mad woman. But Spencer didn’t doubt for one second that whatever was happening inside that big brain of hers felt entirely real. He heard Morgan draw a sharp breath, turning to face away from the girl and steady himself where his dark eyes lined with woe and salt. 
Spencer hated seeing her cry, hated not knowing how to help her even more, and he didn’t care if she pushed him away even more. He had to hold her, hold her and make her listen, make her understand she was safe because he was there. 
Spencer swore then and there that he wouldn’t let anything touch her ever again as long as he lived. 
It took everything in him to ignore the way her hands scratched at his wrists desperately, and he wondered if in her mind he’d taken the form of some beast ready to swallow her whole. But he was sure he could calm her down with some coaxing, get her to see what was real if he was patient and gentle enough. He scooped an arm under her legs that shook, and it only took him a second to realise he had peed herself in the throes of her nightmare, the sight of it causing another cry to roll from his tongue. He didn’t care about the mess, because his entire focus was on her as her hands thrashed against his chest, trying everything to get him off her, even when his other hand wrapped around the back of her head and pressed her tightly into his shoulder, squeezing her against him in his lap like she was an inconsolable child. 
“Please, please, I can’t, I can’t do it again, I don’t understand,” She wailed, her voiced croaking and pathetic and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d damaged her vocal chords, “I don’t understand,” 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” He cooed softly, pressing his head next to her ear and rocking her slowly, “It’s me, it’s Spencer. I’m real, this is real,”
Her hands stopped their fight against his body, his own grip tight and not showing any signs of letting go any time soon as he waited for her to wear herself out, for her body to lose its adrenaline and slip out of its fight response. She pushed him limply a few more times, with little more than the strength of a toddler, and he knew she was coming back down, at least something close to it. 
“I’m so tired,” Her voice was muddled with tears, slurring and stumbling over each other and it was then that JJ walked in with three paramedics behind her. 
The blonde’s face evened out when she saw the girl was alive, nothing but a few surface wounds, but it was then she saw over Spencer’s shoulder the way her eyes were clenched tightly together, the red marks on Spence’s alabaster skin where she had put up a fight behind cradled in his arms. 
And JJ knew then that something inside Bugsy had changed that day. 
“I know, you were so brave, you were so brave for me,” Spencer nodded, his cheeks flooding as he tried to keep his tone strong, stroking the back of her hair softly, “You did so good, I’m so sorry,” 
“I’m so tired and I don’t understand,” She said, like she was putting sentences together for the first time, and it was like suddenly the fight had been sucked out of her as she slumped against him, not even realising in her haze that she needed to be showered off desperately. 
“I know, honey,” He murmured, sniffling and pressing his face into her neck, “You can sleep now, I got you,”
She hummed like she didn’t quite believe him, like she still thought he was some figment of her imagination, but she hadn’t the strength to fight back, to call his bluff. And so she drifted in and out of sleep, as the paramedics got her on a stretcher, Spencer hovering over her face incase she woke up in a panic again, cracking her eyes open right as they got her on the back of the ambulance and suddenly it wasn’t Spencer’s face she saw flitting in and out of her eyeline, it was Hotch. 
“Hotch-” She tried, her hand swinging out at her side with her attempt of grabbing onto his face because there was a trail of blood down his cheek. Her voice was fried, just like Spencer had suspected, her words sounding as if she had swallowed stones, “Hotch, your head,”
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I should have known he would be there,” Hotch said, as her eyes rolled back, straining desperately to keep herself awake. But she had said it herself. She was just so tired. “I shouldn’t have taken you in there,”
“I don’t think I like dreaming anymore,” She garbled childishly, a small frown on her face, and Hotch bit his lip to hide a whimper, raising a hand to her cheek, and Spencer sat at the foot of the stretcher, his neck and wrists sore where she’d clawed him, but he didn’t care. 
Hotch gave her a long kiss to her forehead, one Spencer pretended not to see for the sake of paperwork, because he knew Hotch needed it, even as she’d been sucked right back into the reverie of sleep, their eyes never left her frail form, not even when the paramedics started hooking things up to her wrists to take her charts. 
Spencer knew then he should have bought that ring. 
She’d been staring at the ceiling for about five minutes before he tried to pry an answer out of her. 
He’d tried not to smother her the second she woke up, had seen the hesitation and distrust swirling in her gaze when she saw him there, and he wondered if she thought it was another one of her dreams she had yet to wake up from. But he was real, and he was worried, and he loved her. God, did he love her. Loved her so much he couldn’t stand for one more moment to see her so dissociated from a world where she was his and he was hers and everyone was missing her.  
“What did he make you see?” Spencer tried, his voice as soft as he could try make it without crying, because her gaze remained in her lap, the side effects of the drugs making her a little woozy, “Baby, I can’t help you unless you talk to me, please just, let me help you,” 
Her throat was in agony the second she opened her mouth to speak, ripping with pain when she cleared her throat and in an instant, Spencer’s hand was on her thigh drawing comforting circles with his thumb. 
“Emily was there, she came to- r-rescue me,” She started shakily, her hands trembling beneath the covers and she breathed slowly through her mouth, “S-she wasn’t wearing a vest, and when I asked her she said she’d gotten the first flight out of London to get me; and then… Doyle,”
She swallowed, and he took her hand in his, giving her a reassuring squeeze, and she tried not to let her eyes well up only to find it was already too late. 
“He stabbed her like he did that night, but it was different this time. She was on the floor, trying to get away, begging me to call for help but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything, and I was trying so hard to scream and tell someone, but I couldn’t…” She sniffled, squeezing his hand so tight it hurt, but he didn’t care, “And he wouldn’t stop. He just kept going, over and over again, and I had to watch every second of it knowing it was my fault,” 
The floor was red, a horrible midnight ichor of Emily’s blood seeping from her body, more blood than a person should ever be able to hold. Last time Doyle had killed her, there had been a hairline chance that she would pull through and Emily had beaten all the odds stacked against her. 
But this wasn’t like last time. There was no miracle escape to Europe. Bugsy would be surprised if there was even anything left of her to put in the casket. 
Her eyes were terrified as she watched Doyle drive the knife into Emily’s skin, the scream lodging in her throat for a reason she couldn’t place. She begged herself to do something, say something, tell the man that she would rip him limb from limb if she ever got the feeling back in her legs, wail for help because that was her sister, her big sister, and she’d stopped moving a while ago. 
Stop, stop it, stop it.
But the words wouldn’t come out. She was frozen. Numb. Like someone had unplugged her from the socket, and the only part of her that did work was her eyes, why did it have to be her eyes. 
And the blade was red, so red she thought she’d never see anything else other than red again, as so was the floor, and his arms, and Emily’s clothes. Red. All over. Driving into her stomach with a wet squelch that made Bugsy want to vomit. 
Over and over and over.
She burst out crying then, the first real emotion she’d shown in days, and he was out of his chair in seconds, cradling her to his chest and shuffling to sit next to her on her bed.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, it wasn’t real, baby,” He soothed, and she shook her head, her tears soaking his shirt through, and all he could do was stroke her hair down and press gentle kisses to her brow, “You were so brave,”
“And his face changed, and he wasn’t Doyle, it was Hotch. And he-he gave me his gun, and said I had to pick between him or you because one of you had to die and-and I wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t pick-” Her words warbled into his shirt, an amalgamation of sobs and deep breaths in between sentences, but she needed to get it out. It would eat her alive if she didn’t.
“Choose,” It was Hotch’s voice. The same rough edge, same bite he used with the UnSubs they chased, the tone he’d never used on her. 
She shook her head, because the feeling had tingled back up her spine into her neck by now, and with it brought her voice, her sorrow. 
“No, no, Hotch, please don’t make me, I can’t, I won’t-” She sniffled, looking at the thunderous eyes of her unit chief she’d known for years. He didn’t look like himself, like someone was wearing him as a mask, yet she knew it was him by his steady hands that drew his gun from its holster. He had always been sure of himself. 
How had she got here? Had Lewis got to Hotch, brainwashed him into slaughtering and terrorising his own team. Whatever it was, Bugsy knew in her chest that whatever was standing in front of her was not Aaron Hotchner. 
“Me or him,” He said simply, as if it was that easy, as if he wasn’t pressing a gun to Spencer’s head. 
The sob fell from her lips before she could help it, looking to Hotch’s feet where he held the love of her life bound, his eyes rimmed with fear. 
“I can’t, please, I can’t,” She wept, her cheeks soaked, the salt trickling down her neck and into her shirt. Or was it blood. Had she hit her head? Why did her head hurt?
She couldn’t care, couldn’t think of anything other than the fact a monster had taken over the man she thought the world of. She knew if anything happened she would never be able to hold it against him if anything happened, even if it would always be his face in her mind killing Spencer. Because it wasn’t him. It was Lewis. It wasn’t him. 
Hotch’s finger clicked a bullet into the chamber, pointing the gun at Spence’s crown, and she warbled in protest, because her legs were still numb, her body from the waist down useless, but this time she could scream and fight and yell all the ways she begged for this to stop. 
“Hotch, please, please don’t. It’s not real, it’s not real,” She yawped, her chest in agony, her head spinning because she could have sworn Emily was just here, could have sworn she had been coming to save her. Why was Emily here? And she’d usually be embarrassed to admit it at her big age, but she wanted her sister. She wanted her big sister more than anything, “Hotch,” 
But the man who looked and sounded like Aaron Hotchner wasn’t listening. Instead he looked at her with a steely glare, cocking the gun once more between his fingers, “If you’re too much a spoiled little bitch to choose, then I suppose I’ll have to do it for you,”
And with that he pulled the muzzle away from Spencer’s head, and before she could say another word, utter another plea, he angled the weapon under his chin, pointing it straight for his brain, and pulled the trigger. 
She thinks she screamed, though her hearing had gone with a staticky blur, his blood spraying across the wall like something out of a slasher movie. She remembered howling in shock, her face soaked with ichor and salted tears, and she expected Spencer to rush forward, grab her in his arms and cradle her with soft words. 
But he did. Those hazel eyes she would know in every life time stared blankly at her, all trace of terror gone from his gentle face, and in a whirl of movement, he was standing where Hotch had been, his body gone in a wisp of smoke, like he was nothing more than a magician’s magic act, like her chest hadn’t just cleaved in two at the sight of him dying. 
And Spencer took his place, the lips she’d kissed a thousand times pressed into a scowl, the hands she wanted to melt under, to hold her and tell her he was going to fix everything and make it make sense again holding the loaded gun. 
And at his feet, bound by the same rope he had been was JJ. Freightened, beaten. Mother, wife, best friend, sister. JJ.
“Choose,” Spencer said, but it was cold and unfeeling. Nothing like the saccharine tone he used with her, and she felt the pit of pain and suffering and dread that had opened in her stomach grow only deeper, “Me or her,”  
She had cried for about two hours after that, and he had held her for all seven thousand, two hundred seconds of it, stroking her hair, reassuring her that Lewis was gone, the drug disposed of, and more importantly, telling her he would never let anything like that happen to her again, over his cold, lifeless body. 
And he meant it. With everything in him, Spencer would never let an UnSub get so close to harming the woman he loved. Not a bruise, or a cut. Not even a scratch. 
And for the three days they’d kept her in for observation she’d slept, and slept some more like she hadn’t known a wink of rest in years. And with it came the nightmares, of all the people she loved splattering their own brains over the walls, Chose, chose, me or them?
But by the fourth day she was allowed more than one visitor in her room, the spot that had solely been filled by Spencer, who would take to his grave that he’d gone home and washed their clothes of the mess she’d made when she wasn’t herself. 
And on that fourth day, the team had arrived with love by the bucket load, because Bugsy was family, and family never let each other suffer alone.
“Oh, look at you!” It was Penelope first, ofcourse it was Penelope first, “Spencer, where’s that cardigan I told you to bring her, she could get cold, and that purple is so her colour- oh what am I saying, come here!” 
Penelope bounded over to her bedside, not completely blind to the way Spencer tensed up as she threw her arms around the girl, fighting his urge to chide Garcia into being more gentle because he knew he’d been hogging time with her while the others had been forced to wait. 
“Pen,” Bugsy said, breathing out and hugging the woman back as hard as she could, “Why do you smell like lavender?” 
Garcia released her clutches (reluctantly) and produced a big tote bag of trinkets, one of which Bugsy suspected was a candle. 
“Spencer said they might be keeping you another couple of days and so I brought you some goodies to cheer this place up,” She said with a chirp, reaching in her bag for two stuffed teddies, and Bugsy’s eyes melted when she realised they resembled Niko and Sergio, their colourings not quite identical but the thought had been there, “So you don’t miss your boys too much.”
Bugsy smiled, her chest spreading with warmth “Thankyou so much, Penelope,” 
And Garcia went to respond, her smile wide and relieved, when another voice spoke up behind her, “Quite hogging her, mama, there are people waiting to see the kid,” 
Penelope rolled her eyes which made Bugsy snicker slightly, moving out the way for Derek to lean over her bedside and give her a tight squeeze. 
“You gave us a scare and a half, baby cakes,” He said with a sigh, and she hugged him back the best she could, though his arm muscles were the size of her head. 
“I’m sorry,” She murmured, and he patted her on the back gently, before letting her go for the next person waiting to pounce on her. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to be sorry,” JJ shushed, her slender arms all but crushing her into her chest, and she heard the breath of relief from the woman’s throat as she stroked a hand over her spine, “Just get better for us, okay?”
And Bugsy knew she didn’t mean the crack in her nose Peter Lewis had given her when he’d grabbed her by the nape of her neck and slammed her face into the wooden door the second Hotch’s back was turned. She meant the screaming. The nightmares. The chill that ran down her spine even now when she looked at every one of her friends and remembered that night. Picturing their brains on the wall, their blood on her face-
“Henry drew you a picture,” JJ said, pulling away and presenting her with her own gift basket full of homemade goodies and fresh pyjamas because the ones she had from the hospital were starting to itch, “He said you needed magic kisses,” 
Plucking the card from the front of the wrapping, her lips quirked into a smile when she saw two stick figures, a small dot with yellow hair labelled ‘henry’ with an arrow, and a tall woman with a triangle dress and two glittery wings labelled ‘bugy’, and she was almost certain it was because they had played fairies and princes the last time she had gone over. 
She flipped the page, and saw his hand writing scrawled in a green crayon, a few spelling errors here and there where he had tried his best. 
‘to bugy
mommy said you wer hurt at work and needed somethink to make you happy agan.
I gave the card majick kisses before mommy takes it to the hospital to make you better agan. 
also plees coud we play princes again some time soon.
Love Henry’ 
She chuckled, her finger stroking over the letters gently, because she could imagine him at his little blue table writing it out for her, and she handed it off to Spencer to put on her bedside table. 
“Thankyou JJ,” She said earnestly, and the blonde nodded, squeezing her leg under the blanket gently before she moved over for Rossi to shuffle in, ruffling the girl’s hair because he would joke later that his back couldn’t handle all the movement when really he felt like she’d been mauled with enough affection for one day. 
“You okay, kid?” He said, his eyes roving over the bruise on her nose that had bled into her eyes, and she nodded, smiling up at him somewhat convincingly. 
“I’m still kicking aren’t I?” She said, and the older man chuckled, shaking his head, “Can’t get rid of me that easily,”
And it was almost true, the small seed of double planting in her own head because for a second in that house she had thought things were done for her. And Spencer had thought the same, judging by the way he nervously cleared his throat, playing with the collars of his shirt.
But Rossi nodded with her, “You kidding? There’s enough life left in you to resurrect all of my dead end marriages,” The team snickered, Rossi squeezing her arm the way grandads do, “Kate sends her love, she had to take Meg to her dance recital, she said she’s dropping by later with good coffee,” 
Bugsy took a sigh of pleasure, because she would kill for a steaming cup of good coffee, and Rossi smiled at her attitude they’d all missed in the office. 
And then there was Hotch, who looked damn near like a dog with a tail between his legs, sporting his own jagged forehead wound that had been stitched up, his lips pulled into a guilty pout unlike everyone else's grateful beams. 
“Bugsy,” He started mournfully, and he swallowed heavily, “I’m-” 
“Don’t-” She shook her head, looking up at him from where she’d sat up in the bed to accommodate everyone’s hugging, “It wasn’t your fault, so don’t give me that. He caught us both of guard,” 
But he still didn’t look like he quite accepted that answer, settling to reach out and squeeze the hand that was laying across her stomach, his skin warm and rough as he held her like she was cracking glass under his touch. 
She realised she had been wrong that day with Lewis, when she’d been damn near shaking in her spot because of the man who looked so much like Hotch, and she saw the fatal flaw that gave it all away. 
His face was set in a frown more often than not, and it was for that reason a lot of the agents on the other floors lived in fear of SSA Hotchner’s thunderous tone and barking attitude, but Bugsy knew that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Because while he could be cold and domineering and bossy, his eyes told her all she needed to know. 
He was hurt. He was guilty. He was worried. He was mourning. He couldn’t stop seeing Peter Lewis slitting her throat in that flash of a blade. He didn’t want to take his eyes off her incase it was all a dream in itself, that they had never been found, he had never woke up, they had never saved her. 
His eyes were haunted by the past twenty years of his life, perhaps what happened even before then because she wasn’t so stupid to miss how he was more rough on child beaters and abusive fathers than he was their usual UnSubs, how he was so extra gentle with Jack, how he hated raising his voice. And inside the big scary exterior, Bugsy saw a boy who only wanted to save everyone because no one was ever there to save him. 
She squeezed his hand tightly in hers, pulling him towards her and he’d resisted hugging her to start with because he knew the frog would leap into his throat, but he could never deny her. And he didn’t, he simply leaned over, caressed the back of her head over his shoulder with one of his enormous palms and gave her a warm hug no monster or demon or whatever she had seen could ever be capable of. 
And Bugsy felt stupid for ever believing anything she’d seen. 
They stayed for another hour or so, Derek running out to grab Bugsy a subway because the food at the hospital hadn’t been the best, and she had devoured the steak and cheese footlong so fast Rossi’s brows had raised into his hairline. Spencer handed her a strawberry flavoured pudding pot, the lid already peeled open for her and a spoon.
And it was then a figure came rushing through the door, so fast they were surprised they hadn’t heard the heels on the linoleum and the whole room stopped for a breath, Bugsy dropped her pudding cup down her shirt, barely even making her first bite count. 
“Why did no one tell me those two were screwing for eight months?” Emily barked, gesturing between the two agents that cuddled up on the hospital bed, and almost as soon as the pure joy to see her older sister had flooded her body, it ebbed again, and Bugsy rolled her eyes.
“Eleven hour flight, Em, and a buttload of head trauma and that’s all you have to say to me?” She snipped, mopping up her pudding with the edge of her finger. 
“I got weekly updates about the consistency of Sergio’s bowel movements but this you missed out?” She threw her hands up, sighing in contempt and almost immediately the girls were bickering like they hadn’t spent a single day apart from one another, but then Spencer supposed that’s what happened when you were blood. 
And part of him wondered just who was going to tell Emily about the proposal, the same small part that had gone and bought the ring just yesterday while she’d been sleeping. 
He supposed he could live with it being his secret for a few weeks longer. 
--
TAGLISTS:
@littlemadamred  @stainedpomegranatelips  @mcntsee  @release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08  @caramelised-onions  @the-tpd-bau  @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches  @sammy-4103  @starmansirius  @yeonalie  @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child  @sadbae-33  @mdanon027  @swag13r  @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey  @mindfullycriminal  @mrsbellastyles  @nilopillo  @imagines--galore  @bluejaysaysstuff  @imaginexred  @flow33didontsmoke  @spicyspirit  @mywellspringoflife  @lovelyygirl8  @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld  @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters  @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist  @theoraekenslover  @niktwazny303  @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave  @yondiii  @cultish-corner  @lllucere  @escapismurmom @stillhere197  @hiireadstuff  @queermaxwooo  @telengraph  @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers  @busy-buzzing
613 notes · View notes
foxy-eva · 11 months ago
Text
Snow Angel
Tumblr media
Summary: Reader really knows how to get Spencer in a festive mood
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff, Smut
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a hint at Spencer’s sad childhood, food mentions, heavy kissing, oral (fem receiving), handjob, unprotected penetrative sex
Author’s Note: This is my gift for @drgenius-reid ! I wrote it as a part of this year’s Criminal Minds gift exchange @cmgiftexchange
Word Count: 1.5k
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Spencer’s hand kept mine warm as we walked along a snow-covered path in the park. Seeing everything covered in a soft, white layer really got me in a festive mood, excited to have someone to spend the holidays with this year. 
“So, Christmas is in a few days. Do you have any plans?” I wondered while gently squeezing his hand. 
He turned his head to find my eyes as he cooed, “I was hoping to spend it with you.”
“I would really like that.” 
He smiled at me for a brief moment before he averted his eyes to look at the snow beneath his feet. After taking a deep breath, he asked, “Can I tell you something?” 
“Anything.”
Spencer stopped his movements to be able to fully look at me while he said, “Growing up in the desert with a sick mom, Christmas always felt like any other day to me. I never understood what people meant when they talked about how magical this time of year is. That was until I met you. I can’t wait to celebrate Christmas with you.”
I placed my arms around his neck to find his lips in a chaste kiss before whispering, “I love you.” 
His breath felt hot against my face when he breathed, “I love you, too.” 
It was then that I decided to make it my mission to show him how magical Christmas could be. There was so much about this time of year that he probably never got to experience and I was adamant to change that. 
“Let’s make snow angels!” I chirped and was met with a surprised look. 
“What?” 
Without further explanation I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the ground with me. He watched my motions for a moment before he lay down in the snow himself, mirroring what I was doing. We both couldn’t hold back the fit of laughter falling from our lips. 
When we got up from the ground, we took a moment to admire two perfect snow angels before rushing back to my apartment. Spencer’s cheeks were rosy when we got back into the comfort of my home, signaling that he was just as cold as I was. 
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the cold,” he muttered as he took off his damp coat. 
“I know a way to warm you up,” I told him. “Why don’t you take a blanket and wait for me on the couch.” 
When I returned to him with a mug of hot cocoa, he raised his eyebrows and chuckled, “I thought you had had something else in mind.”
“Naughty boy!” I laughed as I sat down beside him. “Don’t you know that Santa only brings presents to good boys?” 
He just shrugged as he took the mug and said, “I’m okay with that, I already have everything I could wish for.”
I placed a soft kiss on his cheek before I turned on the TV to put on the corniest Christmas romcom I could find. 
“Snow angels - check! Next on my agenda to experience the Christmas spirit are hot cocoa and terrible Christmas movies,” I announced. 
Spencer playfully rolled his eyes but I knew that he was enjoying my enthusiasm. He took the blanket to place it over the both of us before wrapping one arm around me to keep me close to him. 
When a scene of the main characters decorating a Christmas tree came on, I decided that we should do that, too. “We should get a Christmas tree for your apartment,” I let him know. “We could decorate it with purple ornaments.” 
“That sounds really nice.”
I adjusted my position inside his arms until I could fully look at him to tell him, “And we need to bake cookies! I have a recipe for the best chocolate chip cookies you’ll ever taste.”
“Cookies sound great-,” Spencer agreed before finding my lips to mumble against them, “- but I’d rather have you right now.” 
The movie playing in the background was quickly forgotten as we deepened our kiss. His lips felt soft and demanding at the same time and when his tongue met mine it was as if we melted into one another. It only took a few moments until I noticed a familiar warmth rushing through my body, making me eager to feel more of him. My hand wandered to the hem of his sweater, dipping beneath it to feel the heat of his skin. 
“Are you still cold?” I breathed into the kiss. 
“No.”
I broke the kiss to smirk at him as I purred, “Good. That means you can take your sweater off.” 
Spencer chuckled at my words but did as I said. Slowly we helped each other shed each layer of clothing until there was nothing left to separate our bodies as we lay beside one another on the couch.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he purred as he kissed down my neck. 
His hands began exploring the curves of my breasts and I felt him smiling against my skin when I answered his touches with the sounds of my pleasure. His fingertips were soon replaced by his lips as he kissed every inch of my skin within reach. Gently, he pushed apart my thighs and lay down between them before he began nipping and licking along my inner thighs. 
I knew that I was dripping with desire at this point but Spencer took his time to tease me. I was sure he didn’t do it on purpose. It wasn’t the first time that he lost track of time worshipping me, his eyes always filled with wonder when he kissed along all the curves and dips my body had to offer.
“Please…,” I finally whimpered. “I need you.” 
It was as if my words had snapped him out of a trance. He mumbled, “Sorry,” against my thigh before his mouth finally focussed on my center. My hands flew to his head, my fingers intertwining with his curls as he brought me closer to my breaking point. I dared to look down at him and moaned at the sight of half of his face buried between my thighs. It looked downright sinful. 
It took just a few more moments of his skillful motions until I entered a state of pure bliss. Spencer’s hands grabbed my hips to keep me steady as he guided me through my high. When my body began relaxing underneath him, he placed a few more soft kisses against my folds before finding his home inside my arms. 
I was quick to reach down to find his hardness, making him shudder at the sudden touch. My fingers wrapped around him and began moving just the way I knew he liked. My motions were immediately rewarded by his sighs and groans. When I let my thumb brush over his leaking tip, he whined my name against my neck. 
“Tell me what you want, love,” I cooed as I kept stroking him. 
“I–,” he whimpered as he locked eyes with me. “I… wanna be inside you. Please.” 
“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 
It took him a few seconds to process my words. The thought that I had the ability to make the smartest and most eloquent man I knew forget everything else but me made me smile. He repositioned himself until he was kneeling between my legs, taking a moment to let his eyes wander over my body. 
“I’m so lucky,” he purred as he leaned over me. “So lucky to have you.” 
I reached between our bodies to guide him to my entrance. He took his time entering my body, a sigh falling from his lips with every inch that disappeared inside me. When he was fully inside me, he leaned down to kiss me. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him even closer against me until there was no distance to be found between us. 
Slowly we began moving, our hips grinding against one another in perfect synchronicity. We got lost inside each other’s arms. As our bodies merched there was no way of telling where my body ended and his began. Together we chased the sweet relief with heavy breaths and accelerated motions until we fell over the edge together. 
Each of the pulses of my walls around him was answered with him throbbing inside me, sharing his warmth with me until he had nothing left to give. He collapsed into my arms and buried his face into the crook of my neck as he tried to even out his breathing. Our bodies stayed connected for as long as possible but we had to let go of each other eventually. 
After cleaning up I found my home inside Spencer’s arms, my head resting on his chest. His heart was still beating faster than usual but it slowed down after a few more moments. 
“I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you,” he whispered. “And every holiday after that.” 
Tumblr media
Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22 @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie
989 notes · View notes
lostintransist · 1 month ago
Text
Fallen Angel | Charmed
Simon knows how it started. This...superstition that leads to his men feeling safe. It involves you. Of course, it does. You have crept into every other aspect of his life, as slowly as squash vines fingering their way up bushes and houses. He doubts you even know you've done it, infiltrated his peace.
Johnny, in his ineffable suaveness, kissed you on the cheek one time as he said his goodbyes before a mission. The man got blown clear through a wall with nary a scratch. The only thing different he could remember doing had been kissing you. Bastard couldn't keep his mouth shut about it. None of the other guys had met you yet. Ghost knew that would change. Johnny wouldn't shut the fuck up about how he had to test this again, to see if a kiss from you turned out to be a lucky charm.
Military men were more in tune with spirits, vibes, cosmic entities than most religious leaders, witches, or charlatans combined. They had to be. There were no atheists in foxholes after all.
They did meet you, Price, then Gaz, then Roach. Ah, Roach. Always the last to be let into a new dynamic. A capable solider, a solid member of the 141, but still a guarded, protected member, to those on the outside. You welcomed him with a warm smile and a surprise knowledge of sign language.
"This is Roach," Gaz clapped him on the shoulder. "He doesn't speak."
Roach had glared at Kyle over his shoulder. The heat in the stare had been clear even behind his sunglasses and surgical mask.
You squinted up at Kyle from your place at the coffee table, mid-game of cribbage with Johnny. (This was the only game he had a chance of winning since luck could sway a hand in either direction).
"Does he not speak or does he not communicate with you because you're kinda an asshole?"
Kyle's nose scrunched down at you. Price laughed into his drink and Simon wouldn't help a small chuckle. He opened his mouth to defend himself but you turned to look at Roach. You moved your hands quickly, one brow lifted in question. Simon recognized only one of your moves as sign language.
Roach did a little head shake before replying, hands flying as fast as yours did.
You laugh at whatever he signs, "I am not calling you roach. My friends will not let me live it down if I make another friend with a weird name."
You glare at Johnny who grins in reply.
Roach signs more as Kyle slips into the kitchen for a drink for everyone.
"My brother is deaf. I learned to sign before I could speak, my mom taught me by virtue of signing with my brother." You sign along as you speak, telling everyone your half of the conversation at least. "We still talk regularly even though he moved to Australia to be a professor at one of their colleges."
You and Roach had hit it off, becoming fast friends. Signs flew back and forth. At one point Simon watched your brows draw together before snapping to glare at Johnny and then back to Roach. Simon watched it all with a slight fascination. Roach had never taken to anyone so fast, let alone a woman. You slid into the dynamic of the 141 as if you were molded for it.
When the guys had readied themselves to leave you ducked under Johnny's attempt to plant a kiss on you again. Instead, you dragged Roach off to the bathroom and sent him out askew. Sunglasses pushed into his hair, mask sitting wonky on his face, and several kiss marks in pink lipstick covering from ear to ear. Several were only half covered by his mask.
Johnny glared at him for getting kisses that he needed to test for luck. Gaz clapped him on the shoulder.
"Guess I'm not the only asshole here today. Better luck next time Soap. But at least we know that if Roach comes through an impossible situation then she is definitely a good luck charm."
Everyone laughed as they trailed out of the building. Simon had seen you, leaning on the railing on the top of the stairs. You sent him a two-fingered salute, he nodded and shut the door behind him.
Roach had taken a shot to the side, missing his liver by millimeters. That had confirmed it for the team, you were a good luck charm. That is why Simon had popped back to the flat, for a smidge of that luck.
He found you asleep on the couch. Peaceful. The couch would hurt you if you stayed on it too long. Simon knew from experience. He slid a hand under your knees and upper back, lifting you into his arms. You blinked sleepily up at him.
"Hi Ghost. Why are you carrying me?"
"Can't sleep on the couch," he grunted back.
"Oh," came your sleepy little reply. "Do you need a kiss?"
Only the training of years and years kept him from freezing up at your question. He pushed into your room through the cracked door, sitting you upright in your bed. He knelt on one knee at your feet. You rubbed your eyes as you looked at him.
"Yes."
He had a solo mission. This one scared him. Something in his bones told him that he wouldn't make it home in one piece.
You lift both hands to his masked face. Leaning forward you place two gentle kisses over the eyeblack of his eyelids. It wasn't enough. Ghost shifted the mask up to sit over his nose. He watched your gaze flick over his scars, moving like a dragonfly.
Still holding his face you pull him close, angling him for a kiss. The softness of your lips against his rough ones zaps at his soul. He can't help but put both hands on the bed, bracketing your hips, and pushing up into the kiss. Your thumbs slip beneath the edge of the mask, rubbing streaks in the hallows of his face.
Taking the barest part of your lip between his teeth he pulled. You breathed a moan into his mouth before pulling back. Avoiding his eyes you pull the mask down, shifting it to sit just so. Going so far as to tuck it into his hoodie you still avoid his eyes.
When your hands are settled in your lap again you look at him.
"Good luck Ghost, Simon."
He looked at you a moment more before slipping from your room and the flat altogether.
Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist
226 notes · View notes
zombvic · 6 months ago
Text
VROOM (harry lewis x reader)
summary : in which y/n and harry get invited to go to the silverstone formula one grand prix (2023)
face claim : no one exact
notes : im an absolute noob at writing fics so please excuse the quality lmao. im petrified of posting on here but ive been thinking about starting a blog for over a year. im open to feedback, opinions and any sort of questions/advice is welcome! i happen to waffle a lot so just skip those parts if uninterested. this is my first post so enjoy 😝 also pls request because i have the creativity of a koala so id appreciate some ideas :D
pairings : harry lewis x reader , lando norris x platonic!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?! Are you actually serious?" You asked your boyfriend in genuine shock, followed by a laugh from the man dressed in head to toe in Ferrari merch. The red and yellow colors clashed hilariously with the sleek, orange McLaren paddock pass hanging around his neck.
"What? I thought I'd support the winning team." He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. You and Harry got invited by the Mclaren F1 team to watch the Silverstone Grand Prix from the paddock. As a Formula 1 fan youself, you were excited to see the cars upclose. To watch the mechanics to the pitstops, engineers do their things (idk what they do lmao) and to watch Max Verstappen overlap the whole grid like seven times. Even since you were a little kid you were amazed by those cars driving freakishly quickly. Now, several years later you get to experience it right infront of your eyes.
"Look, there's Lando!" Harry pointed out, spotting your friend talking to a group of mechanics. You approached Lando, who broke into a wide grin as he saw you. "Hey! There are my favorite YouTubers!"
You beamed. "Lando! It's so good to see you. How's it going?"
"It's been wild but amazing," Lando replied, glancing at Harry. "And I see you've managed to get Harry in the right gear this time."
Harry laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I had a little help with that."
Lando gave you two a playful nudge. "So, who are you rooting for today? Besides me, of course."
You laughed. "Well, McLaren, obviously. But I'm also excited to see how the Brits perform. It's going to be an interesting race."
"That's the spirit," Lando said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Alright, I better get back to my team, but I'll see you guys later? Enjoy the race!"
You and Harry found a spot in the back of Landos garage, it had a view on the screens but also the pit-stop. The whole race went by fast. The moment the lights went out Lando tried his hardest with a deserved P2 at his home race.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by mclaren, f1 & 1,002,485 others.
yourusename mom, i got invited to the silverstone grand prix.. still lowkey in disbelief like wtf.. me?? anyways, tysm mclaren 🩷 enjoy my lovely film camera dump raaaah.
View all 2,547 comments.
user harry looking fine as always😍
user y/n and lando finest friends
wroetoshaw whos the first fella hes fit
- yourusername he has a girlfriend..
user i can imagine y/n just walking around taking pictures of everything and everyone 😭😭😭
user i almost melted when they came on the screen
- user me too 😭 forgot i was watching f1 for a second
wroetoshaw i still think i shouldve worn my ferrari outfit #hater
- yourusername youd be sticking out like a sore thumb youre lucky i stopped you #loser #youalmostworepajamapants
user y/n looked so good there 😍
user i LIVE for y/n and landos friendship
faithlouisak i cant believe you chose him over me..
- yourusername im sorry bae.. next time im taking u
faithlouisak finest woman out there
calfreezy wtf fake friends.. theburntchip are you seeing what im seeing ???
- theburntchip bunch of fakies😔
holy what a yap fest lmfao please someone REQUEST something 😭 cause this is too plain.. !
353 notes · View notes
reidsaurora · 5 months ago
Note
Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe
i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner
Tumblr media
Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…
Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader
Word Count: 2,019
Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!
Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂
Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024
Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
Summer Celebration info can be found here!
Tumblr media
Sun Kissed - fluff requests
Malibu Dream House - domestic!au
Tumblr media
Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.
Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”
“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”
Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”
“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.
You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”
He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”
Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”
“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”
“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”
His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.
One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.
Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.
His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.
“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.
“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”
As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.
“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”
“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”
They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”
“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”
It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.
“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”
It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.
Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”
You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”
Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”
Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.
Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.
“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.
Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.
Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”
Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.
“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.
“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”
You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”
JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”
Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”
“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”
“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.
“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”
“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”
Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”
“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”
You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.
Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.
Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.
Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”
Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”
“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”
“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.
“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.
You scoffed. “It was not that look.”
“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.
Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”
“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.
The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.
“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”
“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.
You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.
Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”
The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.
“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.
JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”
“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”
Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.
“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.
“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”
And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”
Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.
Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.
“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”
Tumblr media
taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea
Tumblr media
386 notes · View notes
bbina · 4 months ago
Text
"i don't understand why you feel scared meeting my parents, babe. i'm one hundred percent sure they'll love you as much as i do" chenle calls out from your bedroom as you go over your outfit for the 127th time today
today was the day you were gonna meet his parents for the first time. chenle decided that you two have been dating for a decent amount of time that it was time to introduce you to his folks
there was nothing wrong with meeting your significant other's parents. in fact, it's even a privilege to meet the people who've raised your partner with care and love
but what chenle doesn't understand is that you're afraid of meeting his parents. so scared that you might actually ditch on them on the last minute in attempt to hide away from the fact that you, out of all people is dating their beloved son
you've heard it for quite sometime now. that chinese parents tend to usually look after people who are in some impressive bloodline that could lead to business expansions. knowing that chenle's parents were very much involved in the business scene, maybe chenle has been set up with other wealthy chinese bloodlines that could eventually carry their legacies for further generations
this has always been your insecurity with your relationship with chenle. hell, you even knew what you were getting into when chenle first courted you
although chenle has been great at easing out your anxieties and fears about this stereotypical reality, still, the thought of his parents disliking you upon the first meet still lingers at the back of your mind
you must've been deep in thought that you barely noticed chenle's presence behind you. you were brought back to reality when you felt chenle's arms wrap around your body, his chin resting on your shoulder
"i promise you, they'll love you. just trust me" chenle says, leaving kisses form your shoulders up to your jaw
your shoulders drop, looking at chenle through the mirror
"i'm just scared that they won't like me" you whispered, looking at yourself in the mirror, "terrified even. what if they judge me for my background? what if they did a background check on me- on my family? what if your mom will ask me to meet her at the back of the alley and she'll be like 'stay away from my son'? what if–"
chenle cuts you off by grabbing your cheeks, smashing your lips together
"breathe, babe, breathe" chenle soothes, rubbing circles on your cheeks with his thumb. you stare up at him tearily. your mind going haywire at the thoughts going on your head. your insecurities being with someone like him going overtime
"didn't we already talk about this last time? i told you not to think like that. my parents aren't like that. i swear on my life they will like you. if i like you for who you are then i'm sure they will too" chenle reassures, leaning his forehead against yours as he meets your eyes
you bite your lip, still unable to shake the feeling away. you know chenle means well and he sticks to his word
"just trust me on this, bǎobèi. trust me" chenle kisses your forehead, hoping that it will ease your nerves more. you suck in a deep breath before slowly nodding your head yes
"... okay"
chenle pulls away, looking at you with a big smile on his face.
"that's the spirit, baby. i can't wait to tell my mom all about you when we get there. she'll be happy to hear that i'm in good hands" chenle babbles, smiling to himself at the thought of you and his mom being close
and just like it was on cue his phone vibrates inside his pocket. chenle whips it out and reads the notification
"it's my dad. he said they're on the way to the restaurant"
the car ride to the restaurant was filled with a nervous silence. you fidget with the hem of your dress, stealing glances at chenle occasionally. he reaches his hand out for yours, squeezing your hand gently when he felt your nervous glances. his silent way of calming your nerves as he drives you two to the restaurant.
you and chenle were now at the parking lot of the restaurant you two were meeting his parents in
"ready?" chenle asks, looking over at your side of the car
you take a look at yourself through the sun visor one last time before sucking in a deep breath
"ready as i'll ever be.." you murmured. if you walk through those doors your life might change for the better or for the worse. you are silently praying that it will be the latter
chenle smiles, reaching over to tuck some hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. "i sound like a broken record right now but trust me when i say that they will absolutely fucking love you"
you placed your hands above his, giving them a small squeeze. "i hope they will, lele"
chenle grins before removing his hand from your face. he clasps them together, "okay let's go. they might be inside already"
it was now or never.
you and chenle walk inside the restaurant where his parents were waiting in, hand in hand
his parents chose a restaurant that had exclusive rooms reserved for VIP customers. that itself was already a slap on the face on the difference of their social status compared to yours. the plush carpets, the glittering chandeliers, everything just screams wealth and privilege
chenle must've read your mind because he suddenly blurts out that his parents and the owner of the restaurant go way back that's why they get special treatment such as using the said exclusive rooms
"my dad loves this place and is actually friends with the owner. so i'm not surprised they chose to use the VIP room to meet you. they must be so excited to meet the love of my life" chenle gushes, guiding you through the endless backrooms of the restaurant
chenle then stops at a door. it must be the room where his parents were waiting in. this is it. you are finally getting to meet mr. and mrs. zhong
he knocks and wait for his parents to acknowledge it. not a second later the red door opens and there you first make eye contact with his dad, mr. zhong
"dad!" chenle beams, greeting his father with a hug. you straighten your posture as you wait for chenle to introduce you to his father first.
chenle's dad laughs before patting his beloved son on his back
"dad, meet my girlfriend, y/n. y/n, this is my dad" chenle puts an arm behind the small of your back, pulling you slightly to let you meet his father.
you smile as you bow politely in front of mr. zhong
"hello mr. zhong. it's so nice to finally meet you" you greet politely. hoping you were showing your best smile in front of the older man. you felt a surge of nerves meeting mr. zhong's eyes for the first time. but his firm handshake felt more reassuring than intimidating.
before mr. zhong can reply, his mom suddenly stands up and goes up to you. mrs. zhong's excitement catches you off guard. her warm hug and excited chatter dispels your fears and anxiety on meeting them today
"is this my future daughter in law i've been hearing about? i've been wanting to meet you, sweet child!" chenle's mother gushes, waving her hands around to show her excitement
you freeze in shock with the sudden unexpected turn of events. this was definitely not how you imagined it to be. you were expecting hard glares, cold shoulders and not this
"ma! you're scaring her!" chenle nags, shooing his mother off who only swats his hand away
"oh shush, lele! you talk about her all the time of course i'm excited to meet the lady who makes my son the happiest!" mrs. zhong retorts. she then takes a good look at you before gushing again
"she's prettier in person, lele! why didn't you introduce her to us sooner!" she squeals in delight.
you try your best to bite back a smile. you honestly didn't expect this at all. you then make eye contact with chenle who's looking at you with the biggest smirk on his face you've ever seen. almost like he was telepathically telling you 'i told you so'
"i should say the same about you, mrs. zhong. it's so nice to finally meet you. chenle has told me a lot of things about you" you bow again to show formalities
"well i hope they were good things! likewise, dear. you sit down first. are you hungry yet? we can order already if you are. don't be shy! lele! are you treating her right?!"
questions are thrown all over the place you honestly don't know what to answer first. all you're getting is that you're in one hell of a ride today
food is served by the time you and his mom are in a deep conversation. you never thought you'd connect to another woman who wasn't your mom. mrs. zhong’s genuine interest in your life and happiness was touching
"as i was saying dear before we got interrupted, is chenle treating you well?" mrs. zhong prods, side eyeing her son who's ears were now perked up at the mention of his name. her eyes twinkling with curiosity and a hint of motherly concern
you take a good look at chenle before looking back at his mom. he kinda resembles his mom, you thought to yourself. shaking the thought away, you give his mom a smile
"he's the best. you raised him well, mrs. zhong" you smile
mrs. zhong beams and chenle’s father nodded approvingly. chenle reaches for your hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
as dinner progressed, the conversation flowed effortlessly. you found yourself laughing and sharing stories with chenle’s parents, the initial fear melting away.
by the time dinner has ended, mrs. zhong was already planning another get-together.
"you should come by our house sometime and have some tea! do you like tea? what tea do you like? i can order some right away so you'd come over. lele! bring her over sometime! how does tomorrow sound? are you free?"
"tea sounds delightful, mrs. zhong! and tomorrow is fine with me. not sure with chenle though.." you trail off, nudging chenle with your elbow.
"dunno. don't want to drive all the way ther– ow! what was that for!" chenle cries out when his mom pinches his arm. "i was just playing! we'll see you tomorrow ma!" chenle hisses, rubbing the spot his mom just pinched him
you, along with mr. and mrs. zhong laugh. the evening turned out better than you could have ever imagined. before you were gonna go on your separate ways, mrs. zhong pulls you aside.
"you know," she starts, "chenle has always been our pride, and now i see why he chose you. welcome to the family"
tears of relief fill your eyes as you thanked her. "thank you mrs. zhong. i'm so happy and relieved to hear that" you wipe a stray tear that escaped from your eye
"oh please, sweetheart, call me lily. calling me mrs. zhong makes me feel old!" she jokes, softly stroking your hair.
and before you know it, both mr. and mrs. zhong go on their separate ways. you and chenle stand outside the restaurant as you both watch their car slowly disappear from sight.
now here you two were, outside under the soft glow of the streetlights, walking back to his car to go back home.
chenle kisses the side of your head, "what did i tell you? told you they'll love you" he smugly says, feeling nothing but pride and joy that you are now welcome to his family
you poke his side causing him to yelp. "oh shut up!" you blush
chenle’s smug smile says it all. he knew this would happen. he wouldn't be with you in the first place if he knew his parents wouldn't like his partner from the get go
in that moment, you realized that you didn't just meet his parents, you were now becoming a part of a family that already cherished you as one of their own
so much for conquering the great wall
263 notes · View notes
meangirls-imagines · 9 months ago
Text
Leap of Faith
Tumblr media
Description: Part 2 to "Best Friends?" The roommates call an audible when they see how much the aftermath of the Incident™️ is affecting both girls. Help comes in the form of the Murray family.
WARNINGS: buckle up, this is a 2.4k word RIDE, realizations of love, reader being sad, sports injury (reader breaks her ankle), first kisses.
a month.
that's how long it had been since what leighton had deemed "d-day".
this was the longest she had ever gone without talking to y/n and leighton was hurting. she broke things off with alicia after the incident happened. it wasn't pretty. 
hurtful things were said, alicia flipped a coffee table and had to be escorted out of the dorm building by jackson, who kimberly luckily had at the ready when things turned south.
her roommates could see this was taking a toll on the blonde, the trio trying their best to keep leighton's spirits up. whitney was really the only one who got to see how it was affecting both girls. 
y/n, in whitney's opinion, was doing worse than leighton was. whitney rarely saw the girl outside of practice and the one class they had together. she had heard through the grapevine that y/n hadn't slept in days, maybe weeks. all she had been doing was going to class, practice and the gym.
had she tried to talk to y/n? yes. but to no avail. the girl had brushed her off every single attempt. whitney had no idea what to do. she talked to bela and kimberly and they formed a plan.
they were going to get the girls together.
leighton was pleasantly surprised when she saw her dad and nico sitting outside her dorm on a bench, seemingly waiting for her. she walked up to them and immediately was pulled into a hug by nico.
"leighton! there's my beautiful sister." the blonde was confused but hugged her brother back. once he released her, her dad pulled her into his arms. "hi guys. not that i'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?" the two shared a secret look with each other. "we wanted to visit and say hi. your mom is here too, but she went to talk to the kappa president about something."
the blonde looked suspicious but shrugged it off. the two men kept talking as they guided leighton to their suv that was parked near by, planning on taking her to lunch. the blonde allowed them to, finally relaxing for the first time in weeks. 
y/n shot another ball into the back of the net at full force. practice had ended over an hour ago and she was still kicking penalty shots, trying to get her frustration out. her body was exhausted and threatened to shut down at any moment, but y/n stayed fueled with energy drinks. she had jogged after the ball she had been practicing with when a voice yelled out.
"i knew you'd be here." 
y/n froze. she hadn't heard that voice in a while. she slowly turned to see a woman taking off a pair of designer sunglasses, staring into y/n's soul.
there she stood, in all her glory. mimi murray. y/n audibly gulped at the woman staring at her. she slowly walked towards the woman, kinda like a scared puppy. the woman looked at y/n and cupped her cheeks. "have you been sleeping? eating?" y/n opened her mouth to answer when mimi put her hand up to stop her. 
"no. you don't need to answer, i already know. grab your stuff. we have plans." y/n nodded and quickly grabbed her stuff, not wanting to disappoint the woman more than she probably had.
with leighton, nico, and henry, the trio were out eating at an italian restaurant half an hour away from campus. the two men noticed how quiet leighton had gotten, asking her if everything was okay. she spilled everything to them, the men looking at her sadly. "leighton, i'm gonna be honest with you, i'm surprised it took you this long to catch on."
leighton looked at her dad surprised. "what do you mean?" her dad sighed. "i had a feeling a while ago that she had feelings for you. and then the feeling was confirmed last year. remember when that alex guy came to our house to ask you to prom?" leighton frowned. "yeah?"
y/n and leighton were hanging out in the living room of the murray household. since it was the spring, soccer season had taken over most of y/n's schedule, leaving her barely any room to hang out with the blonde. so, every rare weekend that y/n had off, she spent at leighton's house. 
as the two sat on the couch cuddling and watching a movie, the doorbell rang. thinking it was one of nico's friends, the girls ignored it. until leighton's dad came in. "hey leight, there's someone here for you." confused, the two girls got up, walking to the front door where alex hightower stood at leighton's door with a huge sign and a bag of leighton's favorite treats. the sign read "it would be a treat if you went to prom with me". y/n's heart dropped to her stomach as leighton smiled at the boy, accepting his invite. 
she was hoping to gather enough courage to ask leighton if she just wanted to go together as friends. she visibly deflated as leighton spoke excitedly with alex about prom plans. henry was standing off to the side watching it all unfold. he saw how y/n reacted to the proposal and his heart broke a little bit. 
alex eventually left as leighton dragged y/n up to her room to have the girl help her plan her dress. henry saw as y/n plastered on a fake smile and allowed the girl to drag her up the stairs. 
when he woke up the next morning, y/n had already left. a few weeks later, as leighton danced with her date and scanned the room looking for y/n, her heart breaking when she didn't see her anywhere. y/n sat at home alone, looking on instagram and seeing how happy leighton looked. in that moment, y/n made sure that leighton kept that happiness with her, no matter how much it hurt her.
leighton's heart broke at the revelation. she had no idea she was the reason y/n didn't go to prom. it broke even more when she thought of y/n wanting to ask her to prom. she definitely would've had the perfect prom with y/n. nico and henry looked at leighton. nico spoke up. "leighton, y/n has been in love with you since you guys met. she has dedicated this friendship to making you happy, even though it kills her. and i think you love her too."
leighton was crying at this point. henry scooting closer to her and pulling his daughter into his side. "leighton, honey. you wanna know what i think you should do?" the blonde sniffled and nodded. "take the leap. go after her. you two are made for each other. you need each other more than you know. take the first step and get your girl." leighton sniffled and nodded. 
they paid for lunch and headed back to campus. on the drive back, ideas ran through leighton's head on how she could take the leap. a light bulb went off in her head and she smiled. 
she knew exactly what to do.
with mimi and y/n, the older woman took the girl to the best spa in town. after she had received a mysterious phone call from leighton's roommate, she listened as the girl told her what happened between y/n and her daughter and how y/n wasn't taking care of herself. her protective mom side came out and she cancelled any meetings she had for the rest of the day and headed to essex. 
now, the two sat in the steam room together, fresh out of their swedish massage sessions. mimi decided to break the ice first. "so, what happened between you and leighton?" y/n froze again. "we had a fight last month. i haven't talked to her since." mimi nodded. "did this fight have to do with the fact that you're in love with my daughter?"
y/n's head whipped around to look at the older woman nervously. "w-what?" mimi looked at the girl smirking. "i know more than you think. i also know that my daughter is also in love with you." y/n's jaw dropped. "no she doesn't. she's dating someone else." mimi shook her head. "nope. she called me the night you guys had the fight and told me that she broke up with that anna girl." 
y/n chuckled. "you mean alicia?" mimi waved the girl off. "same thing. she told me that the breakup didn't go well with alicia." y/n's heart dropped to her stomach at the thought of what might've happened. she shook her head. "so what if she broke up with her? she's not in love with me." mimi sighed. "yes she is. don't you remember what happened a couple of years ago?"
leighton murray was NOT a school spirit person. 
except when it came to y/n. 
when it came to y/n, leighton and her parents would be in the front row of the stands. leighton would be draped in whatever jersey y/n wasn't wearing, her soccer letterman, and the blonde would even go the extra mile and paint her face in school colors. she loved watching y/n play soccer. especially when y/n got extra sweaty. (leighton would daydream about other instances where y/n would be sweaty but she would never admit that.) 
this certain game, spence was playing their cross town rivals, st. john academy. the game was intense, both teams receiving multiple cards before halftime. y/n was getting pushed around and tackled more than usual and every time she hit the ground, leighton would lose a little off her life.
it all culminated in the 40th minute of the game. y/n was sprinting down the field with the ball at her feet, no defenders in front of her, ready to put spence in the lead. a defender from st. john had caught up to her and slid into a dirty tackle. y/n was blindsided as the defender's cleat came in at full speed and force to y/n's ankle.
there was a pop, a scream, and a thud as y/n fell in a heap to the ground, not before bouncing her head off the field. leighton couldn't breathe. she squeezed nico's hand extremely tight as the boy tried to calm her down. the second the ref waved her hand for the medics, leighton was out of her seat, sprinting to the field. 
coach smith met her at the sideline and ran over to y/n with her. the girl was writhing in pain on the ground, tears streaming from her face. the medics began prepping her ankle to transport her to the hospital. leighton kneeled next to her head. "y/n. hey, you're gonna be okay. i promise." the blonde took y/n's hand, squeezing it gently to let her know she was there. y/n squeezed back as her head pounded and her ankle throbbed. 
the medics eventually moved her to the ambulance where leighton demanded to ride with them, texting her parents to meet them at the hospital.
leighton never left y/n's side during her recovery. so when senior year rolled around, leighton was where she always was, front row, letterman on, watching her best friend take the field for the last time in her high school career. 
y/n was pulled out of the vivid flashback by mimi. "i knew leighton was in love with you when that happened. she was glued to your side that whole year you recovered. she had multiple guys ask her out on dates and she always shot them down. she always drove you to physical therapy. i knew then that if leighton, who refused to go near one of us when we're sick, was doing all of this for you being hurt, she loved you." 
y/n's heart raced. maybe mimi was right. but, had she ruined it with the fight they had last month? mimi noticed the hesitation on her face and stood. y/n looked at her confused. "where are you going?" mimi turned and smiled at the girl. "i'm taking you back to campus to get your girl."
y/n walked back to her dorm, more relaxed than when she left that morning. maybe she would sleep on it and make a decision from there. she pulled her keys out to unlock the door, eagerly wanting to get into bed. when she opened the door, the sight before her took her breath away.
leighton had crafted a blanket fort in the common room of y/n's dorm, fairy lights and all. y/n could see that leighton had gotten her favorite takeout, including dessert, she had a bottle of wine (that she convinced her dad to buy), and her laptop had disney plus queued up with the movie they always watched together, cinderella.
y/n looked at the blonde, who stood nervously by the couch. she was wearing one of y/n's soccer hoodies and some sweatpants. y/n had never seen her look more beautiful than she did in that moment. leighton smiled shyly at her. "hi. i know you're probably still mad at me but i've missed you and i couldn't stay away from you any longer so i did all this so hopefully you would forgive me? it's totally cool if you don't-"
y/n strode across the room and pulled leighton into her arms. she was taller than the blonde so she buried her face in leighton's hair. the blonde relaxed into y/n's arms, tucking her face in the crook of her neck. "i missed you too bubbles." leighton smiled at the nickname. they pulled away from the hug as leighton looked up at y/n. 
in a last second idea, leighton leaned up and kissed y/n, catching the girl off guard. y/n quickly relaxed into the kiss, sparks flying behind her eyes. the two kissed for a few minutes and pulled away. 
"i love you. i think i always have but i was too scared to admit it. but i've always had this weird feeling when i'm with you. i can't explain it, but i know it's a good feeling. and it's a feeling i don't want to ever lose. i wanna be yours, y/n. forever, if you'll have me."
y/n smiled wide and pulled leighton in for another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear those words, bubbles." leighton smiled at the girl. "well, buttercup, get ready to hear them forever." the two kissed again, their passion slowly bleeding into the night.
the couple could never figure out what came over leighton's family to show up that day. 
they would find out years later.
in a speech, surrounded by their friends and loved ones.
with matching rings on their left hands.
436 notes · View notes
greenunoreversecard · 9 months ago
Note
Kai,llyod, and Cole hc of them with a s/o that's kinda like a child of aphrodite from pjo? A bit more like piper though, they hate their gift and have to deal with cat callers alot?
I got cat called by way older men on the way home so this would be really comforting.
A/N:sorry it took so long to get this out for you. Ik my words can't offer much, but I'm sorry you get catcalled, it's not a fun feeling.
Sugar and spice-> Gn! Reader
individual headcanons of kai, cole and lloyd with a stunning S/O
Tumblr media
Kai:
Kai, despite being extremely similar to his element in a multitude of ways, is an utter gentleman.
Hes always respectful of you, and makes sure to ask before he touches you in anyway, and is respectful with his eyes as well
With this said, as you guys grow close and start dating, he becomes uber protective of you.
He knows your very stunning.
And he knows others know that as well.
But alot of times, these people are creepy and go about saying: "hi, your outfit is cool" weirdly
And so he won't hesitate to punt a bitch into the sun
Most likely to throw a punch before a word leaves the creeps mouth.
And if your ever feeling gross and icky bc of the creeps?
Bros pulling out every stop.
Hes getting Zane to make a 10 course Michelin star meal, he's getting your comfort items, a hoodie (yours or his, doesn't matter) and he's becoming a 10/10 massager
Hes getting self care items, and a bath along with movies and cuddles with a side of shoulder to cry on
But if you get angry about the creeps??
He eggs you on. Agrees with you"YEAH BABE, FUCK THOSE ASSWIPES"
he will actively encourage any fist fights fights want to start with them
Hes your number 1 hype man, as well as comforter
Tumblr media
Cole:
This man worships the ground you walk on. Just generally
Also drinks the respect tea (all of them do)
Hes always telling you how amazing you look, and even gives advice for anything you may need
Clothes? Food? Whatever hobby your working on?
He just has a eye for style of all categories
Hes generally also more down to earth, and realizes its much more than looks that makes a person
Which is why it takes him a bit longer to confess, as he wanted to get to know you better first (this man is demiromantic and demisexual)
Hes also fucking oblivious
So when people are more... sly about their intentions, like wording and such, he prolly won't notice
But the second he gets wind of what they are tryna pull
Hes super passive aggressive
And he slings a arm around your shoulder, or hides you behind him
Trys to talk it out first, and if they don't catch the hint they will catch his hands
Hes not... great with comfort tbh
His mom's dead and his dad's lowkey emotionally unavailable so he's not good at it
But he will rub your back when you cry, and buy takeout
He'll also prolly ask kai or Jay about how to comfort you better, bc both had either a sibling or parent.
He would ask Nia buts she's a younger sibling with a emotional brick wall of a brother so it's next to never she did some comforting.
Hes a little confused when it comes to comfort but Hes got spirit
Tumblr media
Lloyd:
He has always been a little silly
So expect to bark at your aggressors
Idk why I just see him barking at your catcallers
Besides that
Hes always relied more on personality for if he likes someone, like cole
Not that kai doesn't care for personality he does, but looks plays a bigger factor for kai than they do cole and lloyd
Anyways
Off topic
Lloyd doesn't make a big deal how you look. Like doesn't comment on your outfits like cole.
Doesnt mean he doesn't think you don't look nice, bc he thinks you look lovely always
But moreso doesn't give a fuck
Wear a potato sack, or go naked, he doesn't give a fuck he just wants to get to the mall before it closes to he can check out the anime shops
He Def has a idrc additude, especially in dragon rising i feel, so I think if you want compliments you'd have to be outright about it, whereas the other two just kinda;"aww my partner is lovely🥰🥰"
And he's like;"babe, love you to bits and pieces but hurry the fucketh upeth I wanna get there before the fucking store closes"
And bc of that he's also the worst at comfort
Like he's always been told to suck it up so he kinda just is like... cool you done? And stands there awkwardly. He will get better with time, but please explain how to help better for future moments bc he was a Lil scared when you started crying.
Anyways back to the beginning about when mfs are being creepy
Barks at them
Fr barks
Bc it weird them out and he thinks it's funny
Or just tries to be as weird as possible
Like starts acting possessed
Crawls backwards on all fours like the lady from the ring or smth
If generally weirdness doesn't work he fights them
Though he tries to scare them off first
616 notes · View notes
sabrinashrts · 1 year ago
Text
under the mistletoe
Tumblr media Tumblr media
parings : isaac garcia x fem!reader
warnings : none really just kissing
Its the day of the Christmas party and you are so excited but first you have to go to school. You got ready and packed candy canes to give out to people at your school. About ten minutes later you were now at school you saw one of your friends Isaac. You went up to him “Candy cane for you”
He smiled “Thanks” you guys were walking the halls together everyone thought you two were together most of the time but you guys were just good friends but Isaac on the other hand would have loved that he’s always liked you but you seem to never notice.
“You going to the Christmas party?” He asks you were busy handed out candy canes but still heard him “Hell yeah! Also I heard there’s gonna be a photo both and we should take some together!” He nodded “Yeah sure” you handed out the last candy cane “God I love Christmas… well I’ll see you tonight bye!” You said as you walked to your class.
It was partner time in math class and you were talking with your friend Jackie trying to convince her to go “Okay come on! Please go.. Cole is going..” she laughed softly “There’s nothing going on between me and Cole!” You knew she was lying “Whatever you say but please go this is my dream! I love Christmas and it won’t be the same without you there”
“Well I have nothing to wear!” She says you smirked at her “Have you seen my closet? I’ll lend you something” Jackie sighed as she smiled looking away “Fine” you clapped your hands softly happy she was gonna go. Later on it was finally time Jackie came over to your house trying to find a good outfit.
You picked for her “This would look good on you!” She tried it on and liked it “Okay.. I’ll wear it what about you!” You grabbed an outfit from your closet. “This! My mom got it for me” it was a Santa dress and it came with a Santa hat to. “Oh my god y/n.. your really into the Christmas spirit” Jackie said you smirked and went into your bathroom too chnage you also grabbed some black high-heel boots.
Thirty minutes passed and you finally came out with the outfit and your hair done a little bit of makeup “What do you think!” Jackie sighed “Finally you’re done! And you look amazing” Jackie said with a big smile you thanked her “Let’s go! My mom’s gonna take us”
Jackie nodded and you guys finally left your mom drove you there you guys made it there in ten minutes and it was a big house you thanked your mom and so did Jackie you guys got out the car and your mom drove off saying bye. You looked at the house it had lights flashing and Christmas decorations everywhere “I’m so excited! I been waiting for this all month! Come on” you grabbed Jackie’s hand and you went inside the house.
You guys went inside and it was crazy people were drinking and dancing with music blasting you guys obviously went to go get a drink first in the kitchen just then Cole came up to you guys “Hey Jackie. You look good” he said. You knew he liked Jackie from the start you took a sip of your drink “Hey Cole have you seen Isaac?”
“He’s in the back” you nodded “I’m gonna leave you two to talk” Jackie gave you a look but you smiled at her and just went to the back of house. There was many more people out there you the saw Isaac talking to one of his friends “Isaac!” You said walking up to him. He turned around “You look amazing oh my god” you smiled softly “Thank you! So do you!”
It was quiet for five seconds but you remembered “Oh my god look the photo shoot! Come on!” You grabbed his hand and led him into the photo shoot you guys put your drinks down and you clicked the button to take the photos. You guys did your thing. You were gonna get out to check the photos but Isaac grabbed your hand “Hey wait… I need to tell you something”
You sat back down confused but listened anyway “Yeah.. what is it?” He sighed “I never thought I’d say this but with you I felt different.” You made full eye contact with him.
“Y/n.. I have feelings for you and I just need to get that off my chest! You’re an amazing person and very sweet and you’re so beautiful..” you smiled at him you never knew Isaac would say that to you. “You like me…?” You said and he nodded “More than anything…”
You looked up for a second just I see a mistletoe you looked back at him and he was ready. So you went for it and kissed him and he kissed you back it for two minutes and you pulled away. “So.. do you like me?” He said you laughed softly “I just made out with you of course I like you” he rolled his eyes “Okay..”
You grabbed his hand once again “Let’s look at the pictures we took!” You guys looked at them laughing.
best. christmas. party. ever….
Tumblr media
832 notes · View notes
ienjoywritingfilth · 5 months ago
Text
Love me More
Tumblr media
Wow you guys really liked the M.A. story and it made me feel so good that I finished this filthy little tale in record time. thanks for reblogging and commenting i'm still trying to get the hang of everything here. - IEWF
pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader
trope: Mom's Boyfriend! Javier Pena
summary: After some great news you're in the best mood when your Mom's boyfriend Javier comes over. What's the harm in a little fun with him while she's not there?
warnings: age gap (not specified), sexual tension, forbidden rel, absolutely filthy talk, daddy mentioned, other shit but I've probs forgotten.
word count: 2.5k
rating 18+
wanna see my other stuff?
The email comes through while you’re in the living room, watching television. A bleep on your phone as you swipe up, opening gmail.
Congratulations, we’d like to offer you the position of-
You don’t read further, you just jump off the couch and pump your fist in the air.
“FUCK YEA!”
The promotion came through on your job which means starting next month you'll officially have enough to move out of your alcoholic mom's shitty apartment. She's one of those talented ones that still has a job, is still likeable, but can't get through her evening without a tallboy or seven. 
A knock sounds at the door while you compose the text to your friends quickly, nearly vibrating with excitement. You’re so close to what you’ve always wanted. A knock sounds at the door as
you rack your mind trying to think of all the people that could be stopping by.
You creep towards the door, peering into the peephole to see a tired looking Javier Peña smoking and standing there. 
Javier is your mom's new boyfriend and drinking buddy. He just moved into the apartment next door and your mother wasted no time getting to know him. She's always had a thing for inscrutable men. 
You're perfectly cordial to the parade of men that come through the front door of you home, and have since your father left for Punta Cana with his secretary five years ago. 
Javier is perfectly nice; he's just one of many in a long line of your mother's bed partners. You don't get too attached. 
"Hi Javier," you offer, opening the door a little wider. "What's up?" 
"Came by to see your mama," Javier says glancing at his watch. "She said she'd be home by now."
Normally you'd tell him he was mistaken so he'll fuck off. But after the great day you had you're in an impossibly good mood. You step back to open the door with a polite smile. 
"Sometimes she works overtime," you explain. "She should be home soon though. You wanna come in and wait?"
Javier debates this and then finally nods, flicking his cigarette off into the night before moving inside. He follows after you. You swan through the room, picking up your pizza plate and glancing at him over your shoulder. 
"Want a beer?"
"Sure."
You're giddy with everything that happened today. Excited with the thought of moving somewhere new, somewhere bright and fresh. This puts you in high spirits as you grab you both a bottle of Corona and head back. 
Javier takes a place on the couch, watching what you'd been enjoying in the background. 
"You watch black and white movies?"
"Sometimes," you shrug when you come back with two sweating beer bottles. You hand him his and take a seat next to him on the couch. 
The couch isn't huge so your thighs are touching his as you take a sip from your beer bottle. He doesn't move away, doesn't move closer, just sits there politely staring ahead. 
"Never seen this movie," Javier comments, clearing his throat. "S'that Joan Crawford?"
"Yep. It's called Mildred Pierce. It's an old classic film noir," you offer, fingers itching to grab the remote.
You watch Javier's lean throat bobs as he drinks his beer. You take a slow sip of yours, never crazy about the taste, only the buzz it brings. Unlike your mom you’re done after two beers.
"I think I saw the Kate Winslet one," he offers. "Remake I guess."
"Mhm." 
You see his dark gaze flicks to you out the corner of his eyes, sliding over your bare legs before jerking back to the television. When you shift and he does it a second time you realize he's checking you out. 
You should be repulsed or even horrified. But instead you're amused, even tingly at the prospect that this man finds you attractive. He's certainly easy on the eyes in his short sleeve button down and pouty mouth. Is he mewing? A quick glance tells you his jeans are tight and that even flaccid his cock is big. 
You have no desire to seduce your mother's boyfriend. The thought is reprehensible, but the flattery of being found desirable by an older, attractive man is a heady drug. 
You stretch yourself out, raising your arms above your head and giving a dramatic groan. A sliver of your belly shows and you see through your hair as Javier takes another peek at your body before shuffling slightly. 
"You, uh, like old movies?" 
"I've always had a love of older things," you purr. 
Javier is silent at that, his fingers tightening around his beer bottle. You can sense that he's uncomfortable and it amuses you greatly. 
Are he and your mom an established couple? Is this serious? You have noticed him around lately but that's your mother's way of things. Burn through them fast. Besides you're not going to be here in a month. 
What's the harm in a little fun? 
You hide a smirk and rise up. With a measured agility you lean towards the coffee table, gripping his knee to help propel you forward. You reach with your other hand to grab the remote. You feel when your shorts ride up, exposing most of your ass. You sense Javier's eyes on you and you make sure to arch, letting him get a good long view, squeezing his knee when you lean back against the cushion. You notice his cheeks are pink. 
This is too fun. 
"I always thought it was so sexy," you explain patiently, raising the remote to turn up the volume. 
"If I recall it doesn't end very sexy for them," Javier swallows. He's refusing to look in your direction. 
"Yeah but the buildup is the best part," you murmur. "All that sexual tension, knowing you wanna fuck but knowing it's so wrong?"
You see the moment the words hit him because Javier goes as still as a statue. He's barely breathing, not moving a fraction and you wonder if he's trying to focus on not getting hard. 
You hold back a giggle at the thought and lean towards him, your mouth drawing near to his ear. 
"You ever wanted to fuck someone knowing its wrong, Javi?"
Javier says nothing, but you don't miss the dart of his eyes to your chest and then back to the television. Your hand goes to his thigh, fingertips inching upwards. Javier's eyes immediately fly to your fingers and their lazy ascent up his thigh. You bite your lower lip to keep the grin from bleeding over your face. You're not going any further than this; you've had your fun. 
You pull your hand from his leg, placing it in your lap. Javier lifts his eyes up the length of your body before locking his gaze with yours. He raises a hand to the back of the couch, nostrils flaring.
Shit.
Can he smell your arousal? Can he hear the sudden tick of your pulse? Can he sense the shift that just occurred?
He licks his lower lip slowly, his large eyes glued to your mouth. Your lips part as your breathing deepens.
Fuck has he always been this sexy?
Javier’s eyes are black with arousal, shining with lust and you feel your core tighten at how he’s staring at you; like he’s an animal waiting to devour prey. You shouldn’t be turned on by that. You shouldn’t want him to close the distance between your bodies.
Tension crackles in the air and the scent of his aftershave wafts in the air around you. It’s spicy and sweet and mingles with the scent of cigarette smoke. You can physically feel your arousal soaking your panties.
“Javier---“
He doesn’t look like he heard you; he’s too intent on staring at your mouth, deaf to everything else. If he’s anything like you, the blood is rushing in his ears.  You squirm. Javier begins to slide towards you on the couch, his body moving with a feline grace.
The both of you hear the key hit the apartment lock at the same time. Javier jerks back from you just in time for the door to swing open and your mother to come blowing in. 
"I'm home!" 
Your mother's voice breaks into the room and you see Javier's face break into a guilty looking smile. 
"Hey gorgeous." 
"I'm so sorry I'm late Javi!" Your mother pouts, coming to throw herself into his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a kiss as you hold in a gag. 
"I hope my daughter was hospitable to you while I was gone." 
She gives a wink in your direction that you return with a polite smile. Javier grips your mom around the middle, holding her there in his lap and refusing to look in your direction. 
"Yep," he nods. "Very. Got me a beer and everything." 
"That's my girl," your mom says with a proud smile. 
You're about to reply when you think of the text you haven't sent. Of your promotion. Your game with Javier is done. You press a kiss to your mom's temple and bid them both a goodnight before heading to your bedroom with your Corona.
You pull on your pyjamas, tired from the day. It's warm tonight, so a light tank and sleep shorts will have to do. You pull out your phone, sending off a few texts to your friends to tell them about the good news.
We gotta go out to celebrate sluuuuutttt
You smile at the message from your oldest friend Harper. The one who loves to party more than anyone you know.
There's a knock on your bedroom door an hour or so later and you open it, surprised to see Javier standing there looking nervous. He scans your body clocking the short shorts and the way your nipples peek through your shirt. 
"Your mom's just in the shower," Javier tells you quietly, taking a step back. "Then we're going out to dinner." 
You can hear the shower running down at the end of the hall.
"Mhm," you nod, distracted by your phone on the bed that just beeped. 
"You eat yet?"
"Nah, didn't feel hungry," you offer. "Where you guys going?"
"Dunno. Maybe that Mexican place down the street." 
The two of you lapse into uncomfortable silence, you balancing on one foot as you watch him avoid your eyes. You bite back amusement when his dark eyes dart to your chest and then back to the floor.  
"You want us to bring you anything back?"
There's a sweetness in him asking if you want anything. Something that almost feels paternal. But the way he keeps sneaking looks at your tits is anything but. 
The shower is still going and emboldened by the buzz from your beer you take a step towards Javier in the hallway. He stands watching you, chest rising shallowly as you press your front to his, standing on your tiptoes. 
"You don't have to take care of me," you purr at his ear. "'I don't need you to be my daddy." 
You feel rather than hear the shudder that goes through him at the term and you hold in a laugh. You hand finds his bicep, squeezing there and you ensure your voice is a seductive whisper when you speak next. 
"Unless, you wanna be my daddy, Javi. Is that it? Or do you just want me to call you daddy?" 
He swallows and you step back, biting your lower lip. Javier looks like he's run a marathon. Pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted, neck growing damp with sweat. The shower squeaks off and like a whistle he seems to come back to himself.  Javier steps back as you move backwards into your bedroom. 
"Have a good dinner," you tell him with a wink. 
And before he can say anything you've stepped back, closing the door gently in his face. 
You muffle your laughter with your pillow, listening to hear Javier standing outside your room a moment longer before his footsteps recede into the other bedroom.
You hear he and your mother chatting, mumbles through the thin walls and you bring up your phone to see what the alert was.
There’s this guy here at the club u neeed to fuck. He’s so criminally fine.
Attached is a photo of the most aggressively mid man you’ve ever seen. Just Harper being Harper.
It’s Tuesday Harper.
So what? Fucking doesn’t happen during the week?
Not for me. My job just got harder remember!?
You can almost see your friend rolling her eyes.
Have fun being a boring ass nun. c u on the weekend. Imma get you shitfaced n help you celebrate your promotion properly.
You write back something sarcastic before you give a yawn and crawl under your covers. You set the alarm on your phone before you start the classic evening tradition of wasting good sleeping time on tiktok. You scroll on your feed for a bit, feeling your eyelids grow heavy when a noise draws your attention. 
It takes you a moment before you realize it's the clack of your mother's metal bed frame hitting the wall across the hall.  
"Fuck yes, Javi!"
Classic Mom shit. Whenever she drinks she's loud and hyper sexual. But you thought they were going for dinner? You hear your mother cooing his name again, her begging in a pathetic whine that grates your nerves. You reach for your headphones when something stops you. 
"Fucking tease." 
You think you've misheard because instead of your mother's theatrical moans you hear his rasping baritone. Punched out groans at first, slowly building with every thrust. 
"Fucking tease acting like that."
You think you're imagining it at first. He's never been vocal before - only grunting and moaning. He's never spoken like this in the bedroom and that alone has you fascinated. 
"Take it, yeah, take it you fucking slut."
And in between these rasped epithets you hear your mother's groans, her encouragement and then her gentle begs for him to go harder.
"You're messing with the wrong man you little whore," he huffs, his hips slapping against her ass. "Think you can fuck with me and get away with it?"
Your mother's moans are muffled, likely because her face is smooshed in her pillow. He's undoubtedly fucking her from behind, facing the wall, facing your bedroom. 
"You're gonna pay for it."
And then as the groan of the mattress and the creak of the bed frame hit a fever pitch you hear Javier, his voice a tight hiss. 
"Daddy's gonna wreck that tight little cunt. Gonna fuck you so full of my cum you cry for me to stop. Gonna show you w-"
The thought remains forever unfinished because you hear the telltale groan of completion, your mother's high pitched whinnies, the noisy concert of smacks and wet plunging and then finally silence. 
You know that wasn't for your mother's benefit. He wasn't saying it about her. He was saying it about you. 
The thought has your pussy pounding. You thrust your hand down you panties only to find you're so wet you can barely believe it. 
It's only seconds before you bring yourself off to the filth Javier just spewed before trembling violently under the covers. Images of his mouth on your cunt and his cock fucking into you have you shuddering as another orgasm overtakes the first, leaving you wrung out and panting as you realize: you are so fucked.
181 notes · View notes
selkiewife · 6 months ago
Text
Rhaenyra and Aemma
I think it's interesting we see this exchange from Alicent and Rhaenyra:
ALICENT: You're worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son. RHAENYRA: I only worry for my mother. I hope for my father that he gets a son. As long as I can recall, it's all he's wanted.
And then in the next scene we hear from Aemma:
AEMMA: Rhaenyra has already declared that she is to have a sister. VISERYS: Really? AEMMA: She even named her. VISERYS: Dare I ask? AEMMA: Visenya. She chose a dragon's egg for the cradle that she said reminded her of Vhagar.
At first I thought that Rhaenyra was hiding her true desire from Alicent for us to hear the truth from her mother. And if it were just that- no shade AT ALL. I mean, why not have ambition? Why not want to be heir? Why not want to rule?
But I do think that Rhaenyra's emotions about being heir are more related to being loved and being valued by her parents. Her entire life she has not been enough- she has seen her mother go through all of these tragic stillbirths as a child and of course she would come to the conclusion that her mother's pain and her father's insistence on a son means that she is not enough. So there is already some resentment about the idea of a brother. But I don't think it's so much that, as Alicent says, she is frightened of the son overshadowing her. It is more that she is hurt that the pursuit of a male heir has been overshadowing her for her entire life.
I do believe her when she said that she hopes her father gets a son though- even though it hurts her, she would be happy for him I think. And it would be a relief that this painful pursuit of a male heir would be over for her mother. But then why does she declare that she is to have a sister?
I think that maybe it is to make Aemma feel less stressed honestly. We see how upset Aemma is when she talks to Viserys about the pressure she is under to produce a male heir:
AEMMA: The tourney to celebrate the firstborn son that we presently do not have. You do understand nothing will cause the babe to grow a cock if it does not already possess one?
And then after he tells her his dream again:
AEMMA: Born wearing a crown? Gods spare me, birth is unpleasant enough as it is. This is the last time, Viserys. I've lost one babe in the cradle, had two stillbirths, and two pregnancies ended well before their term. That's five in twice as many years. I know it is my duty to provide you an heir, and I'm sorry if I have failed you in that. I am. But I've mourned all the dead children I can.
This is so heartbreaking. Aemma is under so much pressure and has dealt with so much grief- and feels as though she failed Viserys and the realm. And so I think that Rhaenyra is trying to boost her mother's spirits and telling her that it will be wonderful if the baby turns out to be a girl. It goes deeper, I think, than Rhaenyra not wanting a boy to overshadow her. As I mentioned before, the quest for a boy has already overshadowed he and it is not as though she will be heir (or so she believes) even if the baby is a girl. Daemon is currently heir and I am sure Rhaenyra doesn't think that will change. I think she is telling her mom she is hoping for a girl so that her mother does not feel like she failed if the baby is a girl. I think she is acting out excitement and anticipation for a girl because she feels like she didn't have that for her own birth. She probably thinks that her birth was a disappointment for her father and her mother. Should the baby happen to be a sister this time, she doesn't want the her to come into the world as a disappointment like she did. She wants her sister to come into the world wanted and valued.
I think it makes sense that Rhaenyra would do this because we can see Rhaenyra's concern for her mother in their first (and last!) exchange:
RHAENYRA: Did you sleep? AEMMA: I slept. RHAENYRA: How long? AEMMA: I don't need mothering, Rhaenyra. RHAENYRA: Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants, all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you. AEMMA: You will lie in this bed soon enough, Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the realm.
It's interesting that Aemma says "I don't need mothering," because her own mother, Daella Targaryen, died in childbirth (they don’t mention it in the show but it is in Fire and Blood.) So she would have grown up without mothering. It also struck me that while Aemma tries to mother Rhaenyra by giving her practical advice about “the order of things” for a woman in their world, Rhaenyra’s style of “mothering” Aemma is to point out how important she is and to ensure that she is being taken care of- and prioritizing her above the baby. It’s sad because Rhaenyra is essentially mothering her own mother in the way she wishes she was mothered. Rhaenyra wants to live in a world where, as Arya Stark said, “The woman is important too!” And it’s a glimpse of how she would have mothered her own stillborn daughter, Princess Visenya, or supported a sister if one had been born to her parents.
187 notes · View notes
kaleldobrev · 2 months ago
Text
Jennifer Love Hewitted (6) — The 15 Year Problem Series
Tumblr media
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Joey Baxter (Ghost!OC) & Dr. Falko (Ghost!OC)
Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Emotional Bonding, Vulnerable Dean, Vulnerable Reader, Misogynistic Comments & Sexual Tension
Authors Note: Get ready for some traumatic reader backstory of why she got into hunting | One more part after this guys! | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | As always, thoughts are in italics and the “POV’s” switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
Tumblr media
⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆
⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 5
Tumblr media
Dean took over driving for you, as you looked out of the passenger side window; tears still slightly in your eyes. You were almost done telling the story of how you started hunting, but yet, there was still so much to tell. But even with the small amount you had told Dean, it was an amount that people rarely got — it was basically the extent of the knowledge your parents were given.
“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.
You turned to him, and nodded. “Of course.”
“It’s about Joey,” Dean began. “And I’ll preface this now, you don’t have to answer. I just wanna understand.”
“What about Joey?” You asked.
“Is the reason your speciality is in poltergeists, is because Joey was one?” He asked, and you felt your heart almost sink, and your face slowly dropped into a frown.
“Y-yeah,” you mumbled. “Yes,” you answered again, but more prominently. “His…his spirit was attached to his dog tags but…not anymore. I um…I was able to put him to rest.”
“Without burning them?” Dean questioned, slightly intrigued. “Huh,” he said, tilting his head.
You nodded. “When his parents got his dog tags and the flag, they told me that if I ever wanted to come over and just sit in his room, I could. And for the longest time, I just…I couldn’t do it. I felt like if I did, I would break down, and I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to just sit in his room and stare at all the pictures of him and reminisce about all the memories we had together. But, that changed when I overheard his mother talking to my mom about how things in his room wouldn’t be where they used to be. Or how randomly certain objects would be broken.” You sighed, thinking back. “I asked her if I could sit in his room for a while, and when I did, it felt…weird. Weird in the sense of, there was this energy that was there that was confused.”
“And that was Joey?” Dean asked, and you nodded in response.
“When I was sitting in his room, I…saw him. And, it’s weird because…I wasn’t scared. I would have been I mean, normal people get scared when they see ghosts but…not me…I was…happy in a way because I didn’t properly get to say goodbye to him.”
Tumblr media
5 years ago…
As you sat on the floor thinking about all of the memories you had with Joey, and the moments that you knew would never happen with him, your heart felt crushed, and your stomach felt like it was in knots. You had lost a person you had known practically your entire life, someone that you had loved with all of your being, and you never got to say goodbye to him; and never got to tell him how much he truly meant to you. Yes, Joey knew how much you had loved him, but he (at least you thought), didn’t know the extent in which you did.
Your parents and his would often joke that the two of you would end up together; and what started out as a joke, was something that sounded like a strong and real possibility to you, it was something that you didn’t dislike by any means. He was kind, funny, and made you feel safe. He was someone that you could talk to about anything, and would always listen to you ramble on about anything. You loved him, and even now, you weren’t entirely sure if it was romantic or platonic love — you just knew that you loved him, and loved the idea of spending the rest of your life with him, no matter what that looked like.
“Oh Joey,” you mumbled, hugging your knees close to your chest, staring down at the floor.
“I miss you so much,” you heard a male voice say; the voice sounding scarily similar to Joey’s. “I wish you could see me.”
You felt like you should be scared hearing his voice, but you weren’t. Everything in your entire body was giving the exact opposite — you were glad, glad to hear the sound of his voice.
As you started to look up from the floor, you noticed brown boots with legs attached to them, that weren’t there previously. Your heart was rushing, but you felt calm at the same time. When you had looked up, the legs that were attached to those boots were Joey. He wasn’t solid, but he was solid enough that it felt like he was actually standing there. “Joey,” you said, and smiled briefly, trying to contain the tears in your eyes.
“You can see me?” He asked, his tone mixed with happiness, confusion and relief.
“Yes,” you nodded. “And I miss you too.”
Tumblr media
Present Day…
“I was able to put him to rest by telling him that I loved him.” You stopped picking at your cuticles and looked up at Dean, who was now looking back at you. You couldn’t tell what look he was giving you, but it was far from pity; and you were extremely thankful for that, because the last thing you wanted was for him to pity you. “And I think that’s all he wanted to hear, because as soon as I said that, he said he saw a woman that wanted to take him.”
“He saw a reaper,” Dean stated.
“He did,” you replied back. “And that’s why my specialty is in poltergeists, and why I got into hunting the way I did. I wanted to be able to not only help people but…monsters that might have lost their way.”
Tumblr media
“You’re the only person besides me that knows the full story,” you stated.
Dean didn’t know what to say, but he was intrigued to say the least, hearing how you got into hunting so young, and how you viewed monsters compared to other hunters he had met over the years. When he first started out, he didn’t view it the way you had viewed it, nor did he view the way he did now. He was raised to believe that hunting was black and white and there was no gray area. There was either good or evil. But over the years, he had come to realize that hunting wasn’t as black and white as his father had led on; that there were so many gray areas he didn’t realize were there. And besides Bobby, brother, and Garth, you were one of the first hunters to have that point of view. It was refreshing.
“Thanks for telling me,” Dean said. “I know it must of been hard to. Getting into this line of work ain’t easy, that’s for sure.”
“It sure isn’t. My parents didn’t want me to do this obviously but, they know that there is nothing else I’d rather do than this,” you said, and he could hear a slight smile on your lips. “I feel, I feel like hunting is what I was meant to do.”
Dean couldn’t help but agree, as much as he wanted to disagree. For years, he had mixed feelings about hunting. He’s loved and hated it on and off. At times, he felt that this was the only thing he could see himself doing, but at others, he saw himself doing a variety of other things than this. Mechanic, firefighter; those were his top two. Hell, even rock star at one point.
Multiple times, he had tried to have a normal life away from all this; but each and every time, he always managed to get roped back in. He knew, that as long as he was alive, this is what he was going to be doing, whether he liked it or not. He was meant for this like you were.
Tumblr media
Arriving at the university, Dean didn’t pull into the lot as when the two of you were doing some reconnaissance on the place, you had found that the university parking lot (mainly the medical building) had a crap ton of cameras; and the last thing either one of you wanted was to have your truck or his Baby tracked by the police. You have never been on the police’s radar, but Dean on the other hand, had been on the FBI’s Most Wanted list more times than he could count at this point — an impressive yet not so impressive feat in itself.
Walking to the back of the building, you managed to find a dumpster that was conveniently below a window that the two of you could jump on and use as a way to get in. “Jack pot,” you grinned. “Lift me up?” You asked Dean.
As Dean lifted you, you couldn’t help but notice how gentle he was weirdly being; and you weren’t quite sure why. “Now’s not the time to be gentle,” you said, and you heard Dean let out a small chuckle.
“Kinky,” you saw him wink, and you rolled your eyes at his response.
Getting on top of the dumper, Dean followed you up, and you opened up the window; thankful that it was weirdly not locked, and shimmied your way in; followed by Dean, who had a little bit more of a struggle getting into the window than you did.
Compared to your graceful fall to your feet from the window, Dean on the other hand…not so much, as he practically fell almost face first onto the floor. Hearing the loud thud, your heart started to beat wildly, praying no one else was here that could have possibly heard that. You turned to Dean, who was currently getting up from the floor, wiping his jeans off as he stood up. “You okay there Spider-Man?” You joked, smirking at him.
“You okay there Spider-Man?” He mocked, mumbling.
Tumblr media
Finding the medical instruments was the easy part, but the not so easy part was them being behind some glass. “Okay MacGuyver, you have anything to break this?” He asked. “Because the only way I see breaking this glass is with my gun.”
You gave him a confused look. “Shooting the glass is your first instinct?” He shrugged. “Interesting,” you said, tilting your heard. “I have this.” You went into your pocket and pulled out a large hunting knife, handing it handle first to Dean. “Would you like to do the honors?” Dean looked at the knife for a moment, eyeing it up and down. “Take it, it won’t bite,” you said.
Taking the knife from your hand, Dean held it in his for a moment. “This fit in your pocket?” He asked. You were intrigued that, that was what he was most interested in, not the fact that you had a large hunting knife like that in your pocket to begin with.
“Yeah. You can never be too prepared,” you said, shrugging.
“Couldn’t agree more,” he grinned, as he started making clean cuts on the glass.
Tumblr media
He was impressed by how sharp this knife was, and how easily you had managed to fit this in your jacket pocket given the length. What impressed him even more was the fact that you didn’t even have anything covering the blade; it was simply just protected by the pocket inside your jacket.
The more time he spent with you, the more he didn’t want to spend without you. In the short amount of time he had spent with you, he had felt a sense of peace and comfort; something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Yes, he felt a sense of peace at the Bunker, and sometimes around Sam and Cas; but, with you, it was a different kind of peace and comfort, like he could be more himself around you. And he guessed that you may have felt the same way, as you told him the story about Joey, a story that you never really told people, but had told him. You even cried in front of him.
Holding you in the truck while you were crying, he didn’t feel bad for you, and he didn’t pity you; he understood the hurt that you were feeling, and understood the kind of pain that you were feeling. So many times in his life, he has had to say goodbye to the ones he loved; and it always felt like a knife to the chest or a bullet to the heart. It reminded him of the feeling he experienced when the Hell Hounds ripped him to shreds before he went to Hell.
Tumblr media
Once Dean cut the glass, he handed you back your knife, and he started to remove the instruments one by one. The both of you exchanging looks of confusion. “Why does this feel like it’s too easy?” You asked him.
“If it’s too easy, we’re probably missing something,” Dean suggested. “It’s never this fucking easy.”
As if that was some kind of cue, Falko appeared in front of you. The look on his face wasn’t one of anger, it looked almost confused. “What are you doing?” He asked, and you and Dean exchanged looks again before looking at Falko.
“Please tell me you’re seeing that too?” You asked Dean.
“I sure am,” he said, continuing to make eye contact with the spirit.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” Falko said, this time, his tone was angrier; his hands behind his back.
Dean looked at you, and gave you the look. “What?” You whispered to him.
“Do the thing,” Dean half whispered.
“What thing?” You whispered back.
“That poltergeist sixth sense shit you did with Joey,” he said.
“What makes you think it’s gonna work on him?” You whispered through gritted teeth.
As if Falko was tired of you and Dean going back and forth, he snapped his fingers, and both you and Dean were on the other side of the room, pinned against the wall. “I don’t like when people touch my equipment,” he said calmly. He tried to touch his own equipment that you and Dean had removed from the glass, but it was useless, his fingers just went through them. “All I want to do is finish my work, and I can’t do that if people keep taking what’s mine,” his voice was starting to get angry now.
“Are you sure you can’t do the thing?” Dean asked, looking at you, the two of you still pinned to the wall.
You rolled your eyes. “No Dean, I can’t do the thing.”
“Can you try?” Dean asked, his voice almost begging, but not fully; it almost sounded a tad desperate.
You rolled your eyes again. “For the love of,” you mumbled. “Hey doctor Falko,” you said, and Falko looked at you. “I know how you can finish your work.”
He tilted his head and walked toward you; the smell of blood and rubbing alcohol hit your nose. “How my dear?” He asked. “Are you going to let me continue my work on you?” He reached out his hand toward your hair, and much like the instruments, he couldn’t touch you.
“No, but, I can do you something better,” you began. “You may not like the sound of it but, it’s the only way you’ll be able to finish your work. You just have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” He asked, and he let out a small chuckle. “But you’re a woman my dear. Why should I trust anything a woman has to say?” Wow, misogynistic much? You thought, trying your best not to roll his eyes.
“Fine don’t trust me. Then you’ll never know how you can continue on with your work,” you said. “Your life’s work, might I add.”
Tumblr media
Falko looked between you and Dean, and it seemed as though Falko was starting to get frustrated with you. You were teasing him, and his ego wouldn’t allow someone like you to do that to him. That’s when Falko looked over at Dean. “Do you know what she is talking about?” He moved close to Dean, and it was his turn to smell the rubbing alcohol and blood in his nose now. “Huh, what’s this?” He asked, and reached out toward Dean. Part of his sleeve had fell down his arm, revealing the Mark. “Never in my years have I ever seen such a thing.” Again, Falko couldn’t touch what he wanted, and both you and Dean were starting to see him getting more and more frustrated.
“I’ll make you a deal —” Dean began.
Falko chuckled. “You’re in no position to be making deals with me, son.”
“Fine. Don’t make a deal with me. Then you’ll never know what this beauty can do,” Dean teased, grinning at the doctor.
“The both of you are infuriating,” Falko mumbled harshly. “What’s the deal? I need to finish my life’s work. I’ll do anything to be remembered.”
Jackpot, Dean thought. “I’ll tell you what this can do if you listen to her first. If you don’t listen to her, then no deal.”
“I could always just kill you both,” Falko said, as he started pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back.
“You could but, then you’ll never know the things that him and I know. We’re the only ones that can tell you how you can finish your life’s work without interruption and all of the resources you could ever dream of,” the words you spoke rolled off your tongue with ease. How many times have you done this before? Dean wondered.
Falko was starting to get more angry, items in the room you were in were starting to shake, and shake violently. “Last chance doctor,” you said. You had no fear in this situation, and Dean was impressed at how calm you were right now. The items kept shaking violently, and you were still calm as could be. “Five…four…” you started to count down, and the more you counted, the more violent the shaking got. “Two…”
“Okay!” Falko shouted, and everything stopped shaking, you and Dean fell to the ground. “Tell me,” he said, as he stood over you. Dean couldn’t help but start to tense up, seeing how close the doctor was to you. He didn’t want anything to happen to you; he would never be able to forgive himself if something did. But he knew deep down, that you could handle yourself — he needed to trust you in this moment like you’ve trusted him this far.
Tumblr media
You got up, and the doctor towered over you. “May I?” You asked him, his facial expression not happy in the slightest. You were the last person he had wanted to trust right now, but he nodded.
You walked over to his instruments, and picked them up, placing them in a small metal bowl on the table. You made sure to keep eye contact with the doctor so he could see every single one of your movements. You bent down just enough to grab the rubbing alcohol from below the table and started to slowly pour them onto the instruments. Falko was about to open up his mouth, but you started talking before he could say anything. “I’m cleaning them. Once I clean them, I’ll be able to show you,” you reassured him. His hands quickly turned into fists. “I’m going into my pocket to grab my lighter.” You slowly went into your pocket and grabbed your lighter, Falko watching your every move. You didn’t know how this was working, but for a doctor, he was incredibly naive.
Quickly, fire appeared from it, and you placed it into the bowl, Falko’s face changed instantly. “What…” he mumbled. And he looked down; flames starting to appear at his feet and moved upwards towards his torso. “What did you do? You stupid girl!” He screamed.
You smirked. “Showing you how to continue your life’s work. I thought that’s what you wanted?” Your smirk continued as both you and Dean watched Falko disappear into flames, listening to him scream in an agony that you were strangely used to when it came to a salt and burn.
Within minutes, Falko completely disappeared, and the instruments started to blacken. “You full on Jennifer Love Hewitted him,” Dean said impressed.
Tumblr media
⤑ Move Forward & Read The Epilogue (Not yet available)
Tumblr media
Tag List:@madzzz0797 ⋆ @dumb-fawkin-bitch ⋆ @nancymcl ⋆ @deanbrainrotwritings ⋆ @roseblue373 ⋆ @jackles010378 ⋆ @deansbbyx ⋆ @uncle-eggy ⋆ @queenie32 ⋆ @jzackles ⋆ @shy-taylorsversion ⋆ @ladysparkles78 ⋆ @zepskies ⋆  @samslvrgirl ⋆ @peachhiz ⋆ @t1asstuff ⋆ @kr804573 ⋆ @lmhf1 ⋆ @perpetualabsurdity ⋆ @10ava01 ⋆ @stoneyggirl2 ⋆ @deans-spinster-witch ⋆ @littletomboy2 ⋆ @foxyjwls007 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @mrlonelycat ⋆ @hobby27
Tumblr media
Weren’t Tagged & Think You Should Have?
If you weren’t tagged and think you should have, I’m sorry about that! But there may be a few reasons for that. You did not fill out the Google Form List (which can be filled out using this link), you do not have your mentions on, you currently do not follow me, or your visibility has been set so no one will be able to search for you (which is explained in this PSA here)
If you’re having trouble filling out the form, don’t hesitate to send me a message or leave a comment! 🩷
93 notes · View notes