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life-sport-travel · 2 years ago

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FAMILY TRIP | Travel with us to Orlando Florida!

https://lifesporttravel.com/?p=1198 FAMILY TRIP | Travel with us to Orlando Florida! - https://lifesporttravel.com/?p=1198 Follow along on our travel day as we fly from Charleston West Virginia to Orlando Florida! The first part of our journey to Costa Rica! Traveling with a toddler is always an adventure 😜 Follow our daily adventures 💕: Hi, we’re the Schoeller’s! Welcome to our channel! We grew our family by adopting through the foster care system. Tyanna is the light of our lives. She is 3 years old! Rhianna is a certified registered nurse anesthetist aka a crna. Jon is a real estate investor. We have been working our way towards financial freedom over the years because family time is our priority. We love to travel the world as a family whether it’s by plane, boat, camper van or train! We are also vegan and share lots of plant based food ideas. Thanks for joining us on this crazy, beautiful ride of life! 00:00 Starting our travel day! 00:48 Small town living pros 1:17 Delayed flight… 2:09 We made it to Orlando! 2:48 Hotel room tour 3:56 Pool time 4:31 Dinner time – Ain’t Got No Beef Uber Eats 5:17 Travel day 2 – heading to Costa Rica 7:43 We made it! 9:51 Deleted Scenes #orlando #travel #familytravel [Music] We are heading to orlando florida right Now which is the first stop on our way To costa rica are you ready Are we gonna find a plane yeah Is that your plane planet [Music] [Music] Did you get a sticker Are you official now look at that I think that means you can arrest people Now You can arrest people It took us three minutes to get through Security which is one of the pros of Living in a small city no matter what Time of day we come here we fly right There and it’s one of the pros of only Having carry-on luggage [Music] It’s time for us to board Oh we are late Uh we’ll give you an update as soon as We go i do appreciate your patience well We were about to take off but now we’re Waiting on them They said they don’t know when the Mechanic is coming so we’re going to Have to wait on the runway and then I’m going to go fix it It’s two o’clock we’re about to take off So our delay wasn’t too bad john and Tiana have been sleeping i have been Editing a video but now we’re ready to Get to orlando [Music] We made it [Music] She’s a ninja turtle [Music] I am loving this florida humidity i Actually love humidity i think it just Feels so good on your skin and so warm And nice but we are waiting for our Airport shuttle to the hotel always book A hotel with free airport shuttles Because it saves you a lot of money on Like ubers or taxis and we’re all about Saving money when we’re traveling so We’re just waiting and then we’ll be Going to our hotel [Music] There you go Wow All right you ready to check in All right let me help you take the card Like this and put it in there All the way in And now pull it out past pull it out Okay ready Go on Wow Wow That’s great A nice bed yay You went straight to sleep i got this Room off expedia it was like a budget Room but i’m very impressed so far the Hotel is really nice the room is nice It’s very clean and it has free Breakfast so now we’re going to decide If we want to go swimming first or go Eat and i vote for eat because we were Stuck on the runway during lunch so we Haven’t had lunch yet and it’s already Like 4 p.m Um so i’ll have to see what everybody Else wants to do should we order uber Eats to the pool yeah yeah [Music] So we ordered ubereats from a place Called ain’t got no beef obviously vegan But we didn’t realize that uber eats is Like really busy here it’s not i guess That busy where we live so it’s like two Hours away and we’re all starving so We’re just gonna tough it out and wait For our food while tiana swims and enjoy The sunset it is really nice here and We’re just enjoying our down time before Our big trip tomorrow i’ll show you our Food when it gets here because i’m very Excited about it [Music] The food is finally here we are all Starving Um but we are going to take a second to Show you what we got please hurry and Show them so i can eat it Okay i’m gonna take you on a food tour Really fast so to drink we have two ice Cream teas courtesy the free drinks in The lobby tiana is eating her sweet Potato mac and cheese what do you think She’s out of it She’s so tired and hungry oh thumbs up We got a thumbs up that’s great And john got a barbecue burger with Onion rings and impossible burger and Fries Pickles yum i’ll take your pickles and Then we got a soul roll cauliflower Wings is what i ordered with buffalo Sauce we are going to eat all this And then i think we’ll feel a lot better [Music] Absolutely It’s the next morning we fell asleep Like shortly after dinner last night Because we ate dinner at like 8 30. Um and we slept in this morning actually Tiana slept in because there was Blackout curtains which she never does But now we are headed downstairs to get On the shuttle to get on the airplane to Head to costa rica We’re getting excited Almost time Okay so the security line is insane and We actually applied for global entry in Tsa pre-check a few months ago But we have to do our interview still And all the interview sites were booked So we’re going in the standard line Hopefully on our next trip we’ll have Our global entry and tsa precheck but It’s actually moving pretty fast they Got a good flow going on here We got some qodoba to eat on the flight It was worth the 30 minutes in line Because now we’re not going to be hungry And we’re actually about to board [Music] So rihanna just pulled down our little Tray table to make tiana and apple juice And it looks like she won something what Do you think it is oh no it says we need To ask the attendant i hope it’s a snack I’m very curious well what if it’s a Free fight What if it’s an all-inclusive paid-for Trip to maldives for a month [Laughter] Also while we have the camera out i Wanted to let you guys know that my Sweet husband Just told me that my hair Just finished the crossbar no you just Fixed it don’t even a little bit but it Looks like i’m looking out for you i was Looking out for you I wish i took a picture it wasn’t the Same it was beautiful nonetheless But Tiana’s ready to go she’s over here Enjoying her veggie chips and some bluey She’s like a professional traveler [Music] [Music] Oh We made it to costa rica finally it has Been a very long day but we finally made It to our villa here the awesome villa Staff patricia and felix picked us up at The airport and drove us about an hour And a half over here to the house and on The way John is excited as you can tell and on The way we stopped and picked up some Groceries it is raining unfortunately And fortunately the fortunate part of it Raining is that we’ve actually just been Able to chill since we got here Brianna’s actually making a really good Dinner and then tiana over here has Already found the toys so she’s having a Good time as well and we cannot wait for Tomorrow for the sun to come out this Villa is absolutely incredible we will Show you the entire thing on future Costa rica vlogs but for tonight we are Just going to relax catch up on some Rest after a long day of traveling and Just enjoy ourselves and hang out as a Family hey tiana do you love it here I’ll look at you all set up you got toys You got ice cream Can daddy have your ice cream Just a little bit Oh see you are the best i don’t even Want to you are just the absolute best i Love you so much hey rihanna real quick While i was thinking about it Everybody’s going to want to know what You won on the spirit airlines flight Come here guys I won 500 spirit points okay and john And i were like wow that’s probably like A free flight But It’s not it’s actually equivalent to did We figure out five dollars five dollars They gave her five dollars off her next Flight so we were hoping that was Something better than five dollars it’s Better than nothing all right so like i Said we’re now here we’re just going to Relax and hang out enjoy our time with Tiana it’s been a long day she’s been Such a good girl in this trap she’s done So well today come here come here all Right can you say goodnight everyone Good night [Music] It’s a toy Look phillip’s hand itself we don’t like Bigfoot See Good stuff Watch this watch this watch i’ma blow on Bigfoot’s nose I think they should do a vote when Things like this happens and let Everybody decide whether or not we need Ac for the flight because i bet every Single person here would vote We’ll just be hot for a little bit Take off No so they don’t know when the mechanic Somebody said no So they don’t know when the mate We got one vote for doesn’t want to be Hot all right so after a two-hour delay Like two hours She’s making me airplane feeder since We’re going on an airplane ready [Music] Chook You Mike Izzo https://lifesporttravel.com/?p=1198

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kimabutch · 5 years ago

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TMA Fears as Mechanisms lyrics

With thanks to @ofstarstuff for their incredibly valuable input!)

Beholding

“And then ten minutes of Odin’s face, smiling directly into camera. I can't tell if the image is frozen or not, but after watching her increasingly erratic behaviour, I can’t shake the feeling that she’s looking at me.” (White Noise, The Bifrost Incident)

Buried

"Trapped within the warmth and the darkness, from the waking world I was torn/ Never leaving dreamless slumber, in a mind that broken and worn/ Guarded by uncounted ready guns and blades/ Sharper than a barrier of thorns/

Once, out in the sky I was happy, faintly I remember the sun/ Soaring through the dawn and its brightness, battle, beauty; both had I won/ Then a flash of pain as metal pierces flesh/ And all at once my roaming it was done” (Sleeping Beauty, Once Upon a Time (in Space))

Corruption

“A mad disease/ Striking poverty/ In the slums no-one cares about/ In its host/ Causes rapid growth/ In just weeks they will die/ Children then/ Look as aged men/ But have not learned the words to cry/ An old withered corpse yet a child” (Riddle of the Sphinx, Ulysses Dies at Dawn)

Dark

“Though starving fools cry Saxon ghouls/ In the darkness we run free/ What care we for your light and sun/ In the dark we see, in the black we run” (Skin and Bone, High Noon Over Camelot)

Desolation

“Well, the Lucky Sevens, they got you beat/ Your dice may be loaded, but they melt in the heat/ The fire burns bright/ Under you tonight/ ‘Cause Ashes, you’re outta luck/

Oh, the fire scorches your flesh/ An’ the smoke fills your lungs/ Looks like ya rolled snake-eyes, Ashes O’Reilly/ I guess your game is done” (Lucky Sevens, Tales To Be Told, Volume II)

End

“So Orpheus steps into the chamber, and a dull whirring begins inside of it. Getting louder, getting closer, getting more vicious. But he can’t see it through, though, can he? Flinches, looks back, and it doesn’t work.” (The Daidala, Ulysses Dies at Dawn)

Extinction

“He set a new course, and activated the engines. The heat began to grow, not slow, but fast as console sparked and caught fire. But Mordred's heart was ice. The sound of death still rang in his ears, and as the last high noon sounded outside, Mordred rode his rotten world into the sun.” (Justice, High Noon Over Camelot)

Flesh

“At the door to Odin’s cabin, Thor emerges from the fray, tearing through a horde of sharpened flesh and slime-slick meat. In his hands an engineer’s hammer, now chipped and caked in gore. He staggers and bleeds from a hundred wounds as he kicks through the door. Behind it, what once was Odin laughs.Her body long and undulating, her one eye now vast and staring, as she who once styled herself the Allmother is transformed by the touch of the gods she had unknowingly served for so long.” (Ragnarok IV: Jormungandr, The Bifrost Incident)

Hunt

“Fawning, panting/ Wondering when this will end/ Starving, hunting/ Can’t tell my prey from my friend” (Actaea and Lyssa, Tales To Be Told, Volume II)

Lonely

“I’m now locked inside my cabin, and outside there’s only death/ I still hear the General curse me with her choking final breath/ If it’s truly just this station to which now we are curtailed/ Then the power of a god is with the holder of the GRAIL” (Holder of the GRAIL, High Noon Over Camelot)

Slaughter

"We'll suck the ragged eyeballs from the sockets of their skulls/ Their existence is a mad disease, there needs to be a cull/ Upon their rancid soldier-flesh our bayonets will dull/ And their blood will run like wine!/

Take no prisoners, give no quarter/ Show them all the colour of their entrails on the floor/ The Kaiser's men are cattle to the slaughter/ And their blood will run like wine!” (Gunpowder Tim vs the Moon Kaiser, Tales To Be Told)

Spiral

“Who is she that I see? Could it be? Is it me? Or just a dream?/ Crying out, but without any way she can shout her silent scream/ Is this rage at her cage or wars she cannot wage chained in my soul?/ Can I find from my mind that which I left behind making me whole?/

Flashes like camera bulbs fire in my brain/ Is this truly me, am I going insane?/ In faint bloody flashes I watch people die/ And if that was me, then who am I?” (Loki, The Bifrost Incident)

Stranger

“Oh my love, what madness can this be?/ In your place a monster I do see/ I only hoped to understand this work that drains you so/ But I find this metal demon, spinning falsehoods into gold” (Stranger, Tales To Be Told, Volume II)

Vast

“Fating him alone to keep the life to which he clings/ He sends him out, into the dark, the Once and Future King/ A kiss upon his forehead binds at last his son’s goodbye/ Just one more shot will send him out into the endless sky” (Once and Future King, High Noon Over Camelot)

Web

“We don't deceive/ We just twist the way that they perceive/ Just think of all the things you could achieve/ The truth is here for you and I to weave” (Twisted Threads, Tales To Be Told, Volume II)

#tma #the mechanisms #this is what I do on 7 hour plane rides now I guess #body horror for cw #also some of these are not my first choice #but I didn't want to repeat any songs #and I wanted to include all the albums #gore for cw

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myhaikyuuthings · 5 years ago

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“daddy?” HCs

request: May you please do Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Iwa’s reaction to single mother y/n child calling them “papa” or “daddy” for the first time? Thank you 🥺

warnings: just so much fluff omg

pairings: kuroo x fem!reader, bokuto x fem!reader, akaashi x fem!reader, iwaizumi x fem!reader

Kuroo: Daughter, age 5

the two of you had been together for awhile, he spent many weekends with you and your daughter

this particular weekend, he took the two of you to the amusement park, wanting to ‘treat you both for being so cute’

you three spent a lot of time on the kiddie rides, your daughter laughing loudly and pulling you both around to see Everything

if she was tall enough to ride it, you three would

when you all reached the section filled with ‘carnival’ games, her eyes lit up and you just knew what was coming

well kind of

“Daddy!! Can we play? I want a kitty” she had yelled out excitedly, tugging him by his hand towards the stands

you froze, worried about how Kuroo would react

he was frozen too, staring down at her in shock

“Daddy come on,” your daughter whined, pouting when he didn’t move

in a split second, he had her in his arms hugging her tightly

“We can play all the games you want, you want a kitty? we will win you fifty kitties! You can have a real kitty if you want!”

you were about to remind him, that no she cannot have a real kitty, when he turned to you with tears streaming down his face

“she called me daddy.. I love you both so much god I hope that’s okay with you” “We love you too daddy!” “Yeah we love you too baby”

she ended up getting her kitten not a week later, and Kuroo moved in not too long after tbh

Bokuto: Son, age 7

your son loved Bokuto and you were so glad he did

a part of you guessed it was because Bokuto did anything and everything your son wanted

he wants a tree house? Bokuto’s figuring out how to make it happen

he wants to play hide n seek for hours? Bokuto Will entertain him

Bokuto really just loved the both of you, he had since day one

but he is a professional volleyball player, and sometimes he has to go out of town for games

and both of your boys hate it, they’re practically connected at the hip when together

you felt terrible, seeing your boyfriends pouty teary eyed face on your phone screen, your son sitting in your lap in the same state

so you bought plane tickets and went to surprise him

your son wore a tshirt with Bokuto’s number on it, practically vibrating in the stands as you waited for Bokuto’s team to come out

you had called the coach and managed to score seats pretty close to the court

he didn’t notice you two when he first came out, a pout on his face probably from you missing his call

“Daddy! Kick their butts!!!” your son yelled out, sticking his tongue out at the other team and shocking everyone around you

Bokuto spun around, seeing the two of you and bursting into tears

“You got it little man! Daddies gonna kick their asses!!!” “Kotaro!!”

the minute the game ended, he had both of you in his arms pressing kisses all over your faces and just sobbing

“You called me daddy” “well duh that’s what you are right?” “Yeah I’m your daddy!” he was totally crying the entire time

Akaashi: Son, age 12

you two had been together for three years

you introduced him to your son a year ago, and while they got along, things were tense at first

your son remembered his father, and a part of him hoped the two of you would get back together and he saw Akaashi as someone standing in the way of that

when he saw how much happier you looked, he reluctantly warmed up to your boyfriend

after a particularly bad weekend at his fathers, he came home to Akaashi cooking while you let him talk about how it went

“He took my phone so I couldn’t even text you! All I said was if he wanted you back so bad he should’ve treated you how Keiji does.” “y/s/n, he shouldn’t have taken your phone but you can’t talk to your father that way”

well he was mad at you too now, so the three of you sat at the dinner table in relative silence

“So y/s/n, your mom told me you’re planning on joining the volleyball club?” “Yeah I want to be the ace” “I used to play in middle and high school, I set for Bokuto, if you want I can help you practice”

even though he was ignoring you, you felt your heart swell as they made plans together

they practiced together for weeks, gradually improving when it happened

“Did you see that dad?! I rocked that!!!” “You were great, think you can give me another like that?”

Akaashi handled it so calmly but internally he was so happy

Iwaizumi: Daughter, age 10

he had been in your daughters life for two years

at this point, you all had fallen into a comfortable way of living

he didn’t live with you two yet, but you all were moving into a new house that weekend

your friends had offered to help, so most of his old classmates and some of your friends were there

your daughter was unpacking the boxes in her bedroom while you were unpacking the kitchen, the guys moving the rest of the furniture in

“Iwa-chan you’re feeding us right?” “You already know y/n ordered food, it’ll be here soon, what’re you getting at?” “Oh right i forgot”

you had to hold back your laughter when you noticed your daughter listening in from her doorway as the two grown men started bickering like old times

“you can’t call me that! there is a child in the house!” Oikawa had shrieked, your daughter laughing loudly at the insult

“Dad that fits him so well omg” she cackled, high fiving Iwaizumi, ignoring the offended look on Oikawa’s face

Your boyfriend’s smile was so big and proud, you honestly started tearing up

“oh so he’s dad when he’s insulting me?” “he’s always my dad, stupid-kawa”

Iwaizumi beamed, patting her head “yeah stupid-kawa, i think i like this nickname a little more”

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aderiex · 4 years ago

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Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Jealousy)

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral, coarse language.

Summary: The team goes to DC for a case but Hotch can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. After an incident at a bar, he gets jealous and realizes he wants you.

Everyone all sat on the plane to D.C. They were working a case of younger women abducted from clubs and bars. The Unsub was torturing and killing his victims. Washington PD said the abductions go back a few weeks, 8 bodies had just showed up, half buried in the ground. You sat next to Dr. Reid like you normally do; you two had become close when you had first joined the Bureau and you have become inseparable ever since. He was sitting with the file propped open in his lap and you were leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the crime scene photos. “So, we have 8 dead women in 3 weeks. The coroner said they had all been dead about a week when they found the bodies.” JJ explained, “So he was keeping them for a while.” Morgan concluded. Emily sighed and looked over to you, it was hard for the women to do cases like this knowing the victimology, they were within the killer’s preference. Reid put a supportive hand on your back and offered you a warm smile, you smiled back and tuned in to what Hotch was saying. He was talking about what our next moves were when you landed. “JJ and Reid, I need you in the precinct, looking over all the evidence, get our team somewhere to set up. Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi will interview the families of the victims.” You watched his hesitated eyes looking around the plane when they finally met yours, his gaze softened a bit. “Me and y/n are going to go have a look at the crime scene.” He finished. Everyone agreed and the pilot’s voice came over the speakers, telling the team they were coming in for landing.

As soon as you were on the ground, you were being transported into SUV’s and on your separate paths to do the assigned jobs. It was just you and Hotch in the car, he was driving, and you rode shotgun, with a map splayed out on your lap with all the last known locations of the girls and then the dumpsite. Hotch tried to make some small talk, but it was mostly silent for the duration of the car ride. You pulled up to the dumpsite to see state police around, police tape up to keep civilians out. You put on your rubber gloves, and stepped out of the car, joining up on Hotch’s side as you both approached the scene. The state police chief came up to you and shook both of your hands, introducing himself. He explained basic knowledge of the crimes, which you had already read about, but still listened intently to his words. You and Hotch walked over and inspected the dead bodes. Him checking their pockets and looking at how they were placed, you still looking through the files, trying to identify each girl.

After a few hours spent at the crime scene, you and Hotch decided to rejoin the rest of the team back at the precinct. The drive back less quiet, mostly just filled with work discussion and quick phone calls to Reid and Garcia, but still something. Back at the precinct, Reid and JJ had all the crime scene photos laid out on the big conference table, along with all the evidence. You and Hotch joined them at the table, Reid joining up on your side. Looking down, at the file in your hands and matching it with the last known location of the girls. “They were all last seen at a bar or club…” Morgan mused, “Hey babygirl,” He said, getting on the phone with Garcia. “I need a list of all the bars and clubs that are in a 10-mile radius of the dump site.” Garcia chuckled, “Already on it big boy, I’m sending them over to you right now.” The list popped up, about 7 bars and clubs. “2 of them closed due to renovations and aren’t due to open for the next month.” Garcia added, “Ok so that makes 5. We should split up and hit the bars tonight. Morgan, you take the one uptown on 5th. Reid, I want you and Prentiss in the one on Main. Rossi and JJ will take the one on the far side of town. Me and y/n will take the one on 22nd.” Hotch gave everyone roles, “That leaves one, the one on 33rd.” JJ brought up, Hotch nodded and turned to the state police chief, “I want you and a partner there tonight.” Hotch said, in a serious tone. The man nodded and everyone went to get changed into more casual clothing, as to not seem too suspicious to the unsub. You all were told to tuck your guns behind your waistband, and you kept your badge and cuffs on a belt loop you kept hidden underneath your shirt.

You and Hotch headed for the bar, this was the one time he wasn’t dressed formally, he wore a simple grey button up and jeans, he looked good. You both sat in the car, driving in the dark, the quiet was comforting. Hotch looked over to you multiple times during the drive, just quick glances, not long enough for you to make eye contact with him. You pulled up to the bar, it looked busy, the parking lot was full and there was a steady stream of people going in and out. Hotch looked over to you and sent you a small nod as you both got out of the car and walked in together. It was even busier inside, people were packed in, standing almost shoulder to shoulder. You and Hotch headed immediately to the bar, you found two open spots and sat down, the bartender walked up to you guys. “Busy night?” Hotch asked, the bartender nodded, exasperatedly. “It’s like this almost every night. Popular spot.” He laughed out, “So you probably don’t remember many of the people that come through here?” you asked, the bartender thought about it for a second, “Not really, unless its one of my regulars or they are quite memorable.” He shrugged. You pulled a picture out of your pocket of the girls, “Do any of these girls look familiar?” You asked, the bartender inspected the photos, he shook his head, “Sorry, like I said we have a lot of people that come through here.” You nodded, “What about a man? He would have been quite reserved, sat near the back, didn’t talk to anyone, seemed to just watch?” Hotch cut in, the bartender paused, “Yeah I think I know who you’re talking about, he comes here sometimes, orders a beer and sits in the back. He leaves pretty discreetly.” The man said, “Is he here tonight?” You asked, the man looked around, “Not yet, he normally shows up later in the night.” You nodded and turned to Hotch, “Guess we play the waiting game.” He said.

You and Hotch sat at a table in the back, just talking. Hotch had ordered a beer, as to blend in, you were taking sips of a virgin drink the bartender had recommended. A man approached your table and sat next to you without warning, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Hey pretty lady.” He slurred, intoxicated. You forced a smile and looked to Hotch, who was sending the man a death stare. “Are you single?” he asked, paying no attention to Hotch. He didn’t even let you answer, “Let’s get out of here babe. I’ll show you a great time.” He shot you a dirty smile. You were getting visibly uncomfortable, “Get off of her.” Hotch spoke up, you both looked over to him and he was getting serious. “Hey man calm down, I’m just picking up your leftovers.” He snickered, Hotch was up in a second, grabbing the intoxicated man by his collar and pulling him out of the booth. “I wasn’t asking.” He practically spat at the man. The fear in the man’s eyes was prominent as Hotch let him go and he drunkenly stumbled away from our table. “Thank you.” You spoke up, giving Hotch a warm smile. Hotch returned the smile which made your face heat up and you averted your eyes.

The night was long but by the time the bar had closed, there was no sign of this man. You and Hotch packed up and left the bar, getting into his SUV and heading for the hotel. The drive home felt different, the silence wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable. You couldn’t help but steal glances over to him. You pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and Hotch helped you out of the car, “About what happened back there...” He trailed off, you smiled “Hey, don’t worry about it. I wanted to thank you for sticking up for me.” You smiled, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. You felt the heat rush to his face under your hand. You stayed there for a moment, staring into his eyes, watching them try to read you. His brow furrowed, his eyes scanning your face. You pulled away, breaking the trance “We should probably go… go to bed.” You laughed nervously, he said nothing but a brief nod and you both headed into the hotel. Checking into your respective rooms.

It was the next day, you and Hotch were both extremely tired and showed up to the precinct late because of the late closing time of the bar. Everyone watched you two walk in, JJ raised her eyebrows suggestively and you blushed slightly but shook your head, “It’s not what it looks like, the bar was open until 1am.” You said, yawning.

The day was very long, but you eventually caught up with the killer, he had made a mistake in covering his tracks and you had been able to find his tab at the bar. Garcia had tracked his card and given you all an address. The whole team pulled up to the man’s house, you hopped out of the SUV gun in hand, approaching the house with the rest of the team. Morgan kicked down the door and everyone surged into the house.

The next events went by in almost slow motion, you turned a corner, the first thing you heard was the shot. You didn’t know where it had come from until you felt a breathtaking force on your vest, knocking you back into the wall, Morgan was right behind you, putting a bullet through the man’s shoulder. You stumbled back and slid down the wall, clawing at your vest, trying to get it off. Hotch ran in and dropped to his knees in front of you, “Y/n! Y/n can you hear me?” He cried out, your ears were ringing but you nodded, and reached out to grab his hand. He practically tore your vest off, looking for any signs of bleeding, but the vest had done its job. He helped you up, his arm around your waist as you caught your breath before guiding you out of the house. Morgan was shoving the unsub into the cop car, as Hotch helped you to the SUV. “I’ll take y/n back to the hotel for some rest. I need you guys to go back and pack up things at the precinct.” Hotch said, everyone nodded.

You were breathing shallowly in the passenger seat as Hotch drove you both back to the hotel. He wouldn’t even let you walk in by yourself, instead he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you through the hotel to your room. He walked you over to your bed and gently laid you down, sitting down on the bed beside you. You drifted peacefully, grabbing out for his hand as you slept.

When you woke up Hotch was still there, holding your hand. He had laid down and was sleeping peacefully. You checked the clock; it was around 3 in the morning. You shifted slightly and you heard his wake up, stretching his arms above his head. “Y/n how are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up. You smiled “I’m feeling better, good as new.” He stood up and you stood with him. As you came to your feet, he was a lot closer than you had expected. You were centimeters apart. You felt his breath on your face, making you shiver. His eyes were scanning you again, looking for some kind of clue as to what you were thinking. “I was worried about you…” He said quietly. You smiled and reached up for his face again, he grabbed your hand and spun you around, walking you back into the wall. Your back was against the wall, he was pressing his body against you, keeping you still. Fear flashed through his eyes as he started to step away. “I-I’m so sorry-” you cut him off, pulling him back in by the collar and pressing your lips to his. He kissed back immediately. His lips were so soft, felt so right on yours. His hands immediately found your hips, pulling you even closer as your hands played with the hair on the back of his neck. He pulled away, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He admitted, “That guy at the bar…” he paused, you kissed him again to shut him up. “I know” You mumbled against his lips. His kisses got hungrier, his hands going over your body, as if he were memorizing all the curves of your hips. He squeezed at your waist, making you moan quietly. That drove him crazy, his grip immediately tightened, kissing you harder. You reached your hand down and rubbed him through his pants, causing him to groan against your lips. You smirked and felt him almost come undone in front of you. Your shirt was the first to go, he took your breast in his hand making you throw your head back in pleasure, giving him access to kiss at your neck. Biting and sucking at your neck leaving bright red and purple marks, you moaned lightly, your hands tangling in his hair. One hand going to your waistband, the other coming up to grab your throat. He scanned your eyes, making sure it was okay. You gave him a confirming look, he squeezed your throat and whispered in your ear. “That was dangerous y/n.” He said before pushing his fingers past your waistband, making you gasp. “Going in there alone like that?” he was still whispering in your ear as his finger circled your clit, making your grab his biceps. Moaning quietly, “You could have gotten hurt.” He growled, continuing with his fingers. You whimpered, not able to form any eligible words.

You were getting closer to your release, Hotch knew it too and pulled away. Leaving a lingering kiss on your lips before pulling his own shirt over his head. He was toned, strong, you couldn’t help but stare. Seeing him in this vulnerable state, this way, you forever wanted this image of him in your mind. He smiled at you and pulled you back in, “You should have stayed with me.” He said, his voice deep in your ear, making you shiver. His hand going right back into your pants, circling your entrance before pushing a finger inside of you. Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth as if to let out a moan. “Ah ah. Quiet now.” He growled, you whimpered quietly but nodded. He went back to his fingers, slowly pushing one in and out, watching your face twist with pleasure. Soon you felt him add another one, he curled them inside of you and you felt the tip of his finger graze your pleasure point. You moaned out, he smiled, knowing he had found it and kept going, hitting it with every pump. You dropped your head to rest on his shoulder and bit down on your lip to try and stay quiet. “So wet for me already?” He groaned out, you nodded as best you could while trying to hold in the moans of pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed you up by your thighs, carrying you over to the bed, placing you down lightly and starting to unbutton your pants. He pulled them off your legs with ease, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear, his pants were next. He crawled on top of you in his boxers, you felt his bulge through his boxers rub against you, causing you to moan lightly in his ear. “Fuck Aaron.”

He started kissing down your stomach, all the way down to your thighs, you felt his breath on your inner thighs, causing you to arch you back. He circled your clit through your underwear, making you shudder. He pushed your underwear to the side and licked a flat line up your entrance. You couldn’t keep the moan in that time, it wasn’t that loud, but he heard it. Making him lick you again. You grabbed his hair as he went down on you, you threw your head back as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. While he was still licking you, he stuck a finger in again. You tightened your grip on his hair and he kept going harder. You couldn’t keep the moans in anymore, grinding down on his fingers, chasing your release. “Not yet y/n.” He whispered. Pulling away. Before he could do anything else you flipped him over, so he was on his back. You trailed down his body, teasing your fingers around his waistband before pulling down his boxers. His member coming up and hitting against his stomach. He groaned at the sudden stimulation, you look his entire length in your mouth making him gasp and throw his head back on the pillow. You bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around him, making him groan and grab your hair. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat as you went, amazing moans escaping his lips.

Before he finished, he pulled your hair, letting his member fall out of your mouth. “On your back.” He growled, you obliged and laid down on the bed, you watched him slip your underwear off your legs and throw it behind him as you unhooked your bra and tossed it onto the floor. He leaned down, kissing you and his hands pleasuring you again before you felt his tip slowly push into you. Your nails dug into his skin as you winced. He stopped and looked down at you, you nodded and reached down to push his member farther into you. He groaned and hung his head in pleasure as he bottomed out in you, you moaned as his member hit your pleasure spot. He moved slowly, small thrusts until he was able to slide in and out easily. He held your leg up above his shoulder and continued to thrust. You felt the friction and pain dissipate as it was replaced with pleasure. His groans in your ear, turning you on even more. Your moans were heard all around the room. He leaned it, still going, “You feel so good.” He groaned, you whimpered and ran your nails up and down his back, leaving bright red scratch marks. He moaned at the feeling of this and went harder. He put one hand around your throat and used the other to pin your hands above your head. He was hitting your pleasure spot with every thrust, making you almost scream. You were getting close and Hotch was too, “I-I’m going to-” you didn’t even finish before you released on him, moaning loudly. He was groaning with the feeling of it before pulling out and finishing over your stomach, gasping as he rode out his release.

Later that day, you and Hotch sat on the plane back to Quantico, Reid and Emily were playing chess together. No one knows why she still tries, Reid has yet to lose since Gideon. JJ was finishing her report and Rossi was laying asleep. Hotch sat across form you, his professional face back on, looking over to you and shooting you a smile every once in a while. The flight back is always shorter than the flight out, Reid explained why is physically was, but it felt faster mentally too. As soon as the team landed, there were SUVs outside waiting to take you back to the bullpen. You, Hotch and Reid all sat in one SUV, Reid was forced into the back. The drive was silent other than Reid spouting random facts, you found yourself staring at Hotch while he drove for long periods of time before he would meet your gaze and break you out of the trance.

Everyone was sitting at their respective desks, filling out all the reports quietly. Hotch stepped out of his office, “Y/n. My office.” He said, a shiver went down your spine and you stood. Everyone’s eyes were on you as you walked up the steps and into Hotch’s office. As soon as you got into the office, you closed the door behind you, he closed the blinds and turns towards you “Lock it.” He said, your heart rate picked up and you nodded before turning around and locking the door behind you. You turned around and Hotch was immediately in front of you, grabbing your waist and pinning you against the door. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He growled in your ear; your knees quivered. He didn’t waste time kissing you, pulling you closer to his body. Holding you up. You immediately reached down to rub him through his pants, but he stopped you “We’re going to have to be quiet.” He murmured. You nodded and he let our wrist go, letting you slip your hand into his pants and slowly stroke him, making him throw his head back and breathe heavily. “Desk, now.” He demanded, you giggled and sat on the edge of his desk. He walked over to you, taking off his blazer and undoing his tie. He came right up and stood between your legs, craning his head down to kiss you, stroking your hair and one hand on your thigh. He pushed you back lightly, letting you come to rest on your elbows, he unzipped his pants and pulled his boxers down enough to pull his hard member out. You bit your lip as he slid into you, his face showing pure pleasure as you contracted and moved around his member. He started slow, until the pain was gone again, the thrusts become easier, and he started going harder. You threw your head back, biting your lip hard as you avoid moaning. “Shhh, good girl.” Hotch praised you, that caused a slight whimper, but it wasn’t too loud. He gave you a warning glance and you nodded desperately. He grabbed his tie and shoved the fabric in your mouth. “Quiet babygirl.” He cooed. You bit down on the tie and let it muffle your moans.

He was getting close; you were coming up on your release as well. You sat up and grabbed his collar, “Cum in me.” You whimpered in his ear. He gave you a confirming look and you nodded. He nodded and as you released on his member, he let himself finish inside of you. You felt his hot release fill you up and you threw your head back. “F-Fuck.” You moaned out. He held you there as you both rode out your orgasm. As he stood back up, putting his clothes back on, kissing your forehead. You felt his warm release running down your leg as you stood, your legs shaking. He gave you his spare shirt to clean up with, “Clean yourself up love.” He said softly. You smiled and he pulled you in for a handful of light kisses. On your lips, your cheeks, and your forehead.

You walked out of the office, slightly stumbling down the stairs and sitting back down, across from Spencer. “What did he want?” He asked you. “Just a second opinion.” You answered, going back to your work as if nothing had happened. Spencer didn’t question it. But Morgan saw the messed-up hair and swollen lips. But he didn’t say any thing.

Word count: 4k

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch smut

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erosia-rhodes · 4 years ago

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Top 9 Newbie thoughts on Supernatural after Six Months of Madness

I started watching Supernatural a week before the series finale, and full disclosure, it was only because I heard about the gay angel. I loved me some Good Omens, so I decided to check out a series my only previous thoughts about had been, "Is that show still on?" In the past six months, I've watched about fifty percent of the episodes scattered across all fifteen seasons. I've also spent time following the bonkers-in-the-best-way fandom on Tumblr, and here is what I have learned:

1) Everyone who loves Supernatural also hates Supernatural

No one is capable of praising this show without also trashing it. Supernatural is as awful as it is awesome. Watching Supernatural is like hate-fucking your nemesis against a wall; you're totally conflicted about it, but it's enormously pleasurable and you know you're going to do it over and over again. No one has a pure, untainted love for this show. They only have complicated emotions. This is because…

2) The fact that the show needs to be fixed is an essential part of its appeal

Strangely, if this show were better, it wouldn't be as popular. If you love a show that is perfect, you watch it once or twice or thrice, make a bunch of memes, and move on with your life two years later when you find something else to hyper-fixate on. If you love a show that's broken, you spend the rest of your life obsessed with fixing it. It's the crooked photo hanging on the wall that yearns to be straightened (because, you know, this show is bad at making things straight). It's the stray dog you know would be adoptable if you fattened it up and socialized it with your other dogs, and just like some people can't stop rescuing animals, Supernatural fans can't stop thinking about how to fix a show that isn't great, but could be with a flea bath and a trip to the groomers. Supernatural fans are not fans of the actual show, but of the show they imagine it could be, one that only exists in an alternate universe. They are in love with the Platonic ideal of Supernatural. That's also the reason why…

3) The fans understand the characters and themes better than 95% of the people who worked on the show

The people who watch Supernatural have thought about it way, way, way, more than anyone who produced it. I have read complex essays about what the color of people's clothing imply and how the state of the Impala reflects the state of Dean's mental health and other things I'm certain this show did not do intentionally. People can find depth in the shallowest aspects of this series. Any random fan could explain the complicated dynamics of the Winchester family and the overriding themes of the series better than most of the people who worked on it. That includes the LGBTQ stuff, which leads to the fact that…

4) The show is simultaneously too gay and not gay enough

On one end of the spectrum are fans who are offended you would dare to suggest one of the Winchesters might like kissing a boy and they'll shove you in a locker and duct tape your butt cheeks together for it. On the other end of the spectrum are fans who think it's odd that every episode doesn't end with two attractive men dry humping in a dark corner of the bunker library. No one is happy with the level of gayness on this show. It's always got too much "No Homo" or too much queer subtext, which is why I've concluded that…

5) The audience this show wanted is not the audience they got and they are resentful of it

The original pitch for this show targeted a male demographic who’s into toxic masculinity in a non-ironic way. It was about bros and beers and muscle cars and shotguns and hot chicks who will be killed to further the man's storyline. However, when making that show, they accidentally created a show that attracted female viewers who liked speculating about the queer subtext of each scene while looking at pretty men with traumatic backstories fight back their man tears. The show depends on the unintended audience segment to survive, but is bitter about it, which they remind you of time and time again by killing the female and non-white characters and toying with endless queer-baiting. It's like the writers got a plane to Rome, ended up in a gay nightclub in Amsterdam instead, and even though the canals and tulips make it a lovely city to visit, they wanted to go to Rome, damnit, and they'll never let you forget it! I also suspect that…

6) The people who made this show were at constant war with each other

This show has such a split personality. Sometimes it leans into the gay stuff and other times it makes fun of it outright. Sometimes they'll introduce an interesting side character that could make the show more diverse and then they'll slaughter that person for practically no reason. Sometimes they praise free will and other times they force people down pre-destined paths. The writers feel like a dysfunctional family stuck at Thanksgiving dinner endlessly squabbling with each other—who then had to write a TV show together over dessert. That's why it's such a weird hot mess. The show's unevenness makes me think that…

7) Some people's attachment to the show can only be explained by the fact that it imprinted on them when they were young

Some fans have mentioned they started watching Supernatural when they were kids. It's a pretty common experience to go back and watch things you loved when you were a kid and realize they were…not so good. Your memories of them are far better than the reality of them, but you cling to them anyway. The shows you watch when you're young imprint on you in a way you never forget. Supernatural fans are like a baby duck who looks up at a cat and assumes it’s their mother. Then that cat slices open their poor little hearts, leaving them wounded but not dead, forever be toyed with in agony. The only relief is that…

8) The fandom is batshit insane in the best way

I started following the Supernatural fandom on Tumblr in November of 2020 and OMG, it was AH-MAZE-ING. It was total insanity. I didn't understand half of what was going on, but it was more fun than a yard full of puppies doing zoomies. People were posting detailed PowerPoint presentations theorizing how the series would end, citing extensive physical evidence like the background in Misha's hotel room. People learned election results through Supernatural memes. Destiel went canon every other week. When the Spanish dub was released, Tumblr literally crashed! Obama's Twitter was following a Destiel account. There was a Twitter wedding for Destiel on Valentine's Day, which made the one-month anniversary on Pi Day.

It's been a ride, y'all. I have no idea how you guys survived fifteen years of this. The fandom has been so much fun that I actually sat down and watched more than 100 hours of this show so I could understand everything better. It's like the show is an extension of the fandom instead of vice versa. If anything sums up Supernatural for me, that's it. It's all about the fandom and the show is secondary to that. It's like the fans willed the show into existence as part of some partially botched spell. And part of that twisted spell is that…

9) The show will never die until someone finds its bones and burns them

This show has been off the air for more than six months now and it keeps trending on Tumblr consistently. Misha recently trended on Twitter simply because he was at the Oscars. That was it! He didn't even do anything there, he just attended, and some people figured it out by the reflection in a photo posted by someone else! And just as I was proofreading this post, Destiel started trending again because John Cena is a stan or something? This fandom is crazy and unpredictable and I love it like Dean loves pie! If there ever does come a time when this show stops trending, that will be the moment when they decide to reboot it or revisit it.

There is a lot more I could say about this show, but these were the elements that seemed most unique and bizarre about it. I wouldn't say Supernatural is a ride-or-die fandom for me, and I have no intention of watching another 100 hours of this series, but it's been hella' fun to drop in for a while. The show is just as much a dysfunctional mess as the Winchester family and I guess that's why people love it, right?

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #misha collins #destiel #the cw #tv #television

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

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see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

masterlist

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

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milstrim · 4 years ago

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 8: Forgiven

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7

---

Peter wasn't quite sure how long he lay in the warm sand, his and Mr. Stark's hands lazily entwined while the vulture lay a few feet away, webbed to a crate, but he didn't really care. For the first time in days--months, really--he felt okay. He felt calm and safe, never mind the pain in his ribs and licking at his burnt skin, they didn't matter to the teenager. He'd heal. He always did.

After a few more minutes, there was the sound of sirens. Peter propped himself up, staring at the approaching red and blue lights, his heart dropping slightly. He guessed this was it. Mr. Stark would have to deal with the plane and Peter would have to deal with Mr. Fowler. He wasn't quite sure how mad the man was going to be at him being gone for two days, but glancing down at his soulmate, he didn't particularly care. He'd get to see Mr. Stark again soon, and that was all he really needed to push himself to his feet.

Mr. Stark glanced at him, picking himself up as well and placing a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder before turning to stare at where every emergency vehicle ever was arriving.

"Guess it's time for clean up," Mr. Stark said, whistling lowly. "Happy is not gonna be too please with me."

"I'm sure you'll be able to handle him, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, fishing his mask out of the sand and shaking it out.

"Eh. I'm not super up to it. However, if I tell him I'm taking care of a sick and injured child, I might get away with it for the night."

Peter laughed. "Better find an injured child first."

"I found one." Mr. Stark wrapped a loose arm over Peter's shoulder, corralling him forward. "Don't think you're getting out of this that easily. The Medbay at the compound is waiting for your burnt behind. C'mon, let's go."

"Mr. Stark, I gotta--"

"Get to medical, correct."

"No. Mr. Fowler--"

"Has already counted you as missing for two days. Your curfew is long broken," Mr. Stark countered, moving to say something else when a shiny black car slid to a halt in front of him. More cars and vehicles followed suit. Mr. Stark gave him a smirked glance. "Might want to put that mask on if your secret identity still matters to you."

Peter slipped the mask over his face, following the man as people poured out of the vehicles. Mr. Stark stepped up to a tall man with a surly face and a tightly wound posture, practically storming over to the billionaire. His first instinct was to step in front of Mr. Stark, but the mechanic didn't tense at all, instead slipping into a slightly strained smile.

"What the hell happened here, Tony?" the man asked, glancing over at Peter in confusion.

"Criminal mastermind. He's webbed up back there," Mr. Stark said. After a tired moment, the man shook his head.

"You look half-dead. Go see an ambulance. Call Pepper. I'll take care of this."

"No can do, Happy," Mr. Stark responded, gesturing to where Peter was standing uneasily. "We're gonna head to the Medbay. I'll see you at the compound."

Happy looked ready to argue, but with one last glance at Peter, he just shook his head again. He looked like he was about to burst from the stress. "Do you need my car?"

"Mine's still running."

"Good. Call me when you get there."

"Definitely, Mama Bear. Come on, kid."

Nervously, Peter circled around Happy, following Mr. Stark quickly to where the sleek car was waiting. The engine was still running, and he guessed that Mr. Stark had left the keys in in his mad dash to get onto the beach and help him out. He blinked in slightly dazed confusion, unused to being important. To being cared for.

The sound of the car door opening distracted Peter from his thoughts, drawing his attention to where Mr. Stark had opened the back door of the vehicle. The man gestured between it and Peter.

"Well? You getting in or not?"

"Am I being demoted from shotgun?" Peter snipped, but he got in nonetheless. Surprisingly, Mr. Stark slipped in after him.

"No. We're gonna make sure you're not dying," Mr. Stark said. "Friday. To the compound."

"Of course, sir," the cool robot voice responded, and the car started off, riding easily back onto the street. Peter finally took his sandy mask back off, grimacing at the grit that had slipped into the cuts on his face and watching with a sharp eye as Mr. Stark pulled out a first aid kit from underneath the seat. It was ridiculously big and, when he opened it, ridiculously well stocked.

"Okay. Suit off, Petey-Pie, let's see what we're working with."

"Hey! I just got you back on the nicknames!" he protested. Mr. Stark fixed him with a smile.

"Your AI came up with Peter-butter. My turn. Now: Suit please."

With a tired grumble, the teenager pressed the spider on his chest and peeled the suit from his skin coated in a thin layer of blood and dried sweat. He grimaced, blushing at the sight of his thin ribs. To his credit, Mr. Stark didn't say anything, didn't even stare at how gaunt he was, just poured some rubbing alcohol on a cloth and went for the nearest wound on Peter's chest.

He held back a pained hiss at the sting.

"Hold that in place," Mr. Stark ordered. Peter placed his own hand over where the cloth was, and Mr. Stark returned to grabbing more materials for more wounds. "Rate your pain. One to ten."

"Six."

"An eight, then."

"No one asked you, Doctor Stark." Mr. Stark glanced up at him from where he was wiping at a bloody slash on his shoulder, his eyes flashing. The teenager didn't notice that it was in humor and not in anger. Peter lowered his eyes, stomach churning and swallowing nervously. He had to force in a breath, remembering that the hand on his shoulder was gentle and friendly. Not Mr. Fowler. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, Pete. You saved a lot of lives tonight. Saved my ass, too. Make fun of me as much as you want."

"Really?"

"This deal is limited. You have an hour."

"That's unfair!" Peter protested.

"Tough luck."

"But--" He was cut off by a hiss of pain as the car hit a bump in the road, jostling his bruised body. His ribs felt like shit now that the adrenaline was rubbing off. He couldn't remember being in this much pain, and it was all the teenager could do to blink back tears as his entire body burned.

"Drive carefully please, Friday," Mr. Stark called. "Are your ribs okay?"

Peter shrugged. "They'll heal. They always do."

"See, that's not really good enough for me. Friday'll scan you when we get to the compound and make sure all your organs weren't squished. We're not going to deal with internal bleeding."

Peter nodded dumbly, the world feeling like it was coming to a crashing halt around him. He so desperately want to lay down, to sleep and forget about Mr. Fowler or the group home and how badly he didn't want for Mr. Stark to go. But he didn't voice any of it, instead staying ramrod straight as Mr. Stark wrapped bandages around his shoulder and chest, the man mumbling about pain medicine that probably wouldn't work while Peter stared out the window with a tired blink.

After a few minutes, he mumbled, "How are we going to explain this to Mr. Fowler?"

Mr. Stark paused, glancing up at him before turning back to wrapping a thick layer of bandages around his chest. They were already turning a little red, but Peter wasn't worried, sure that they would stop soon. After a moment, the man patted the bandages into place and sat back in his seat with a tired sigh.

"See, I'm not really thinking we should."

Peter's neck cricked with how fast his head turned to look at the man from where he'd been shrugging on the tattered MIT hoodie, his eyes widening. "What? No--Mr. Stark I have to tell him something. I can't just--"

"You can't just go back to him, Peter."

His heart felt like it skipped a beat, his eyes narrowing defensively.

"...What? Mr. Stark, what the hell are you talking about?"

The man's finger thrummed against his thigh, brows furrowing as he clearly thought about what to say next. After nearly a minute, he turned back to Peter. "Kid...Fowler didn't file a missing person's report."

"...And?"

"And?" Mr. Stark repeated incredulously, "Pete, you've been missing for two days. With no reports to the police. No sort of search party or notifications that you're not okay. Nothing to keep you safe. And foster parents especially are expected to be on top of this kind of thing."

Peter stared at the man in confusion, stuffing his hands in the torn hoodie nervously. He shrugged nonchalantly, fumbling desperately for an excuse that didn't sound like shit. "Mr. Fowler's just--he probably didn't want to freak all the other kids out and--"

"Peter."

His jaw clamped shut with an audible click. Mr. Stark sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

"Look... My dad--my dad wasn't the best. He was mean and constantly disapproving, and he hit me when he was mad. I thought it was pretty normal growing up--not that I liked it in the slightest--but I was used to it. It was just what I expected." Mr. Stark paused, holding Peter's teary stare. "But that didn't mean it wasn't wrong. Adults should never hit a kid. Ever."

Peter tore his gaze away from Mr. Stark, staring at the seat back in front of him. He stuttered, "Mr. Fowler--he doesn't--he's never--"

"He took your card," Mr. Stark cut off gently. "He bought alcohol. A lot of it. I'm sure the following nights weren't very pleasant--believe me, I would know. And, I hate to tell you this, but you're thinner than a twig and jumpier than a grasshopper. And don't tell me that it's your superpowers, I know it's more than that. Kid, he's a bad foster parent, and you deserve better."

The teenager was silent for a solid minute, avoiding Mr. Stark's gaze as a feeling of frustrated helplessness bubbled up under his skin, threatening to spill from his eyes. He swallowed, wishing desperately he could curl his knees up to his stomach and hide himself in a ball underneath the red and torn hoodie.

"I don't, really. It's my fault I'm in foster care in the first place, and I was in a nicer home before I got sent to Mr. Fowler. They caught me sneaking out to patrol and I got sent away, so. Really it's just karma or whatever."

"Karma shmarma," Mr. Stark snapped. "You. Deserve. Better."

Those words didn't make sense, not to Peter. Why should he deserve better? Why should he be allowed to go on living comfortably and happily while May and Ben were in a place so dark their shadows no longer existed? It'd been his fault, and no one else's. If he'd just paid better attention. If he hadn't been so selfish. If he hadn't been so mad.

No. He didn't deserve better. Mr. Fowler had become exactly what Peter deserved. This guilt was exactly what Peter deserved. It bubbled underneath his skin, angry and hot and painful. Peter grit his teeth as regret reared its ugly head.

"It doesn't matter!" the teenager shouted. Mr. Stark stared at him in surprise, eyes dark. There was a silence following his outburst, stiflingly uncomfortable. The anger left him immediately, leaving him slumped against the sleep with a stressed sigh. "It doesn't matter... He can put whatever he wants in my file, he already has. He has everything he needs to ship me out of the state the next time I fuck up. Which might be now, to be honest."

The thought appeared the moment he said it. Peter didn't want to go to Jersey. He didn't want to leave New York, full of memories, both good and bad. Memories of dark nights and memories of comforting shadows. It was enough for a single tear to slip through his defense.

There was silence. Tiring and stifling and awkward.

There was a hand through his hair. Soft and gentle and soothing.

Peter leaned in unconsciously, turning the look at Mr. Stark through his flopped curls. The man had shifted to sit closer to him, brown eyes sad and tired and horribly heavy.

"You deserve better, Peter," he repeated, not an ounce of hesitation about him. "Whatever happened that made you think you deserve to live with a man who hurts you, it wasn't bad enough. Nothing ever could be. Because you're a good person, and good people make mistakes. They always do."

Peter shrugged. "Mr. Fowler can still do whatever he wants. He's my guardian."

Mr. Stark pressed his chin into Peter's messy hair. He could practically feel the mechanic thinking, solving a puzzle. A bit of his snappiness returned, the Tony Stark persona flaring up.

"I'll fix it."

"But--"

"I'll fix it. Just let me help, Pete."

"...Okay," he said after a moment, just desperate to let his eyes slip close. Desperate to forget. Mr. Stark tapped his cheek as his eyelashes fluttered close.

"Thank you for trusting me, but no sleeping. Just in case you have a concussion."

Peter groaned in annoyance, but he continued to slump against his soulmate's shoulder, lazily tracing the way their shadows flickered. He liked it better when they were normal, when he had Mr. Stark's shadow, but Mr. Stark's arm against his own was good enough that he could live with it until they got to the compound.

---

Tony kept a steadying hand on Peter's shoulder as they stumbled out of the Medbay together. The kid looked dead on his feet, ready to pass out on the nearest soft surface, but Tony needed to set just a few more things in motion.

Friday's scans in the Medbay hadn't revealed anything new or horribly life threatening, just a few cracked ribs and broken bones healing rapidly. The mechanic had splinted what he could and given the kid more wraps before declaring him fit to head over to the Avengers common hall. Tony himself was resisting a heavy limp, grimacing with every painful step, but he hadn't broken any bones and there were about a million things to do before he could get some bedrest.

The door to the Avengers hall slid open for the two as they approached, revealing the shiny and empty living room and kitchen. Always empty. He pushed the thought down with a tired swallow, giving Peter's shoulder a pat and leading him forward with a forced excitement.

"You're going to love it here," he started, rambling. "It's really nice. Watch out for Vision though when you meet him, he has a problem with walls. Here, sit down on the couch right here, I'll be right back."

Peter plopped down on the leather cushions, doe eyes following Tony in complete exhaustion as he walked away. Tony stepped over to the fridge, opening it and roaming over the food inside. He frowned. It was fresh, but most of it was basic ingredients and produce for bigger meals. Spinach, peppers, raw meat, hunks of cheese. Overall, nothing that would help the teen right now, save for a large carton of juice that he grabbed.

He closed the fridge, opening the pantry instead and pulling out bags of cookies, pretzels, and a random bag of obnoxiously healthy vegetable chips. His arms full, he tapped the door closed with his foot and headed back over to Peter on the couch, setting all the snacks next to him. Peter stared at it for a second, eyes heavy.

"Eat up. I know you're falling asleep on your feet, but you need calories to heal. So eat, sleep, hang out, and when I get back everything will be fine. Okay?"

There was that doubt again, lingering in Peter’s dark brown eyes. A tired reluctance that Tony remembered in his own eyes when he’d finally escaped home.

But then Peter’s eyes brightened when they clicked with Tony’s own. A sliver of trust.

There was a ghost of a smile on the kid’s face.

"Okay, Mr. Stark."

Tony smiled, ruffling Peter's hair. "Friday will lead you to a room when you're done eating. I'll see you later, kiddo."

As Tony walked away and towards his unused room in the compound, the corners of his mouth tugged, able to faintly make out the opening music to Star Wars.

---

Tony arrived at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys while it was still dark, his torn and dirty suit replaced with a sharp blazer and a matching pair of slacks thrown over a random graphic tee he'd grabbed. Once he'd popped a few painkillers and made a few calls with Pepper and his lawyers, the man had grabbed a pair of car keys and left, but not before checking on Peter once more to find the kid already fast asleep. He'd draped a blanket over him as softly as possible and walked out the door.

Peter's tired face has stuck in his mind as he'd driven over. The sharpness of the cuts healing on his thin cheeks, the faint smattering of freckles and the curly hair dripping onto his forehead. The thought of anyone being okay with hurting that kid was dangerous in his mind. The Vulture, or, Adrian Toomes, as Happy had sent him, was already being dealt with, but Andrew Fowler had yet to face the consequences of his actions. And Tony didn't want to leave the other kids in his care for one more second.

Not even bothering the lock the door, Tony stepped out of the car and up the steps of the building. He rapped on the door furiously, his anger kneading into the wood. The number on the front trembled.

Tony knocked two more times before there was finally an answer. The door swung open, revealing the stale stench of beer and a grumbled man. His pale eyes widened only slightly at the sight of the billionaire in front of him before resetting to their original uncaring position. The man took a swig of the beer in his hand.

"What are you doing here? The brat hasn't been here in a couple of days."

Tony narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw and resisting the urge to smack the bottle out of the man's hand. "You know I'm here for Peter?"

"Kid receives a mysterious letter with the initials 'TS' on it and the best excuse he can come up with is a school sponsored pen pal named Tony Smart? I'm not an idiot."

"I would beg to differ on that, but a let's agree to disagree and all that, shall we? I've got bigger fish to fry."

"Look, as long as I get a cut of the kid's pay, you can keep him as long as you want."

Tony paused from where he was pulling a folded up piece of paper out of his blazer, his eyes flashing and his stomaching sinking with an icy hatred. "Pay?"

"That shiny card must be part of his pay, right? Though I thought a sugar baby of yours would get more than three hundred dollars."

This time, Tony couldn't help himself from knocking the beer out of Fowler's hand. It smashed against the doorway into a thousand pieces, like the mechanic wished he could do to the man. Fowler opened his mouth to shout a protest, but Tony beat him to it. With an angry step forward and a dramatic flash of the papers hiding in his jacket, he cornered the man.

"You're disgusting. That is a child, that you were just willing to, what--pimp out?"

"Jeez, fine. Don't get your panties in a twist," Fowler said, but there was a drunken and fearful wobble in his voice. Still, he demanded, "You owe me a new beer."

"No. I owe you these."

Tony shoved the papers into the man's hands. Fowler spluttered in protest, but took them anyway with fumbling hands, squinting down at the paper. There was a hungry interest slowly replaced by confusion and then destroyed by horror.

"What the hell is this?" Fowler demanded. Tony managed a vengeful smile.

"A warrant and a signed court order," Tony said icily. "All of the children here will be placed in new homes and you will be placed in custody."

"You can't do that!"

"I think you'll find that I can. And I did. You did commit credit card theft after all. And being me did help. Just a little."

"I can--I have rights!"

"Oh, yes. I am arresting you. I guess I should read you your Miranda Rights, huh?" He cleared his throat. "You have the right to remain silent--and I would prefer if you did--anything you say may be used against you in a court of--"

"Shut up!" the man panted, clearly panicked. Tony let out a low whistle, not ashamed in the slightest to say that he was enjoying the way this man squirmed and sweat and fumbled.

"Well, now I have to start over. Legally, I do have to tell you this. Then again, I don't have any cuffs on me so I guess an NYPD officer could read them to you if you'd prefer."

"I can--this is fabricated! Whatever that kid told you, he's lying!" When Tony glared, a no nonsense stare of harsh anger lining his face, Fowler stumbled for a different approach. "I'll sue!! I can accuse you of shit too, Stark."

"I'm sure you can try," Tony said softly. "In fact, I invite you to try. Have fun with it. But know this--you messed with my shadow, and I don't take too lightly to people who do that."

"Your--"

Fowler was interrupted by the wailing of sirens. Tony straightened, pulling on his blazer. "Ah, that must be the police. I hope you have a good lawyer, though I'm sure they won't be better than any of mine. And--oh! Rot in hell if you would, please."

Tony patted the man on the shoulder just a little too harshly.

The billionaire left as soon as he could, but not before collected the belongings of Peter's left behind and doing his best to assure the frightened kids at the house that everything was going to be okay for them. That it was going to be better.

Everything was going to get better. Tony was sure of it.

---

When Peter woke up, it was to quiet murmuring and the rifling of papers. He tensed immediately, his brain autopiloting to Mr. Fowler rifling through the morning mail, realizing horribly that he must have fallen asleep downstairs and--

"--all the paperwork's been filed," a low voice said, interrupting the teenager's panicked thoughts. "It's just waiting for the kid's signature."

Kid? Oh. Him. Peter was the kid, and Mr. Stark was the voice, the one mumbling about papers nearby. Peter kept his eyes closed, evening out his breaths as he tried dimly to remember what was happening.

It struck him without much effort that he was at the Avengers Compound, healing after having been kidnapped and then fighting the Vulture. He must have fallen asleep on the couch Mr. Stark had led him to, and judging by the soft warmth wrapped around him, someone had draped a blanket around the wounded boy. There was a dull pain that throbbed throughout his body, but it was easy to tell that most of his injuries were well on their way to being healed. The teenager guessed that all the bandages could be removed by midday. He wondered if he'd be removing them at the compound or if he'd already be back at the group home.

"Tones," came another mumbled voice, clearly doubtful and stressed. "Are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, I know he's your soulmate, but this is more than hanging out with or mentoring a kid. This is raising one."

Peter couldn't help the shock that made him tense and forced his eyes open. Thankfully, the two people talking were away from the couch and in the kitchen, unable to witness his small freak out. Raising? What the fuck???

Mr. Stark sighed, short and hot.

"I know, Rhodey, I know. The thing is, I could let him be placed back into the system, make sure he has a good home and let that be it, but I just... I mean, just looking at him is enough to tell me that that's the wrong move. I don't know what it is, but I see his face and I just--I just want to make sure he's okay. I want to keep him safe. It's--I don't know--it's like..."

"Like you were meant to be there?"

"Like I was made to protect him."

Peter flushed, fingers clenching around the blanket as he stared at his shadow, fixated on the tall shoulders and fluffy hair. He felt like he was choking on his own tongue, trying desperately to not say anything as he chewed on his cheek nervously.

"Maybe I was," Mr. Stark mused. "We still don't know why soulmates are soulmates anyway."

"Maybe," Colonel Rhodes responded. "If you believe in a higher purpose and whatnot."

"I don't. Usually. But for this, I think I do."

"I guess that all that's left is making sure Peter thinks you were made for it too."

"Yeah," Mr. Stark said. "Is it weird to be nervous? Like, this nervous? I've already sweat through my shirt."

Colonel Rhodes laughed. "I'll see you later, Tony. Good luck."

"Where are you going?"

"To put out fires for everything that happened last night. It happened right on Coney Island, Tones, every reporter in the city was there within ten minutes."

"Yikes. Hope you have fun, honey bear."

"You're an asshole."

"Love you too," Mr. Stark cooed. There was the sound of an elevator closing, and then it was just him and Mr. Stark. Peter wasn't sure whether to continue to pretend sleeping or not, not that he was sure he'd be able to properly fake it if Mr. Stark came over and looked up at him. He was practically frozen, stiff as a stick and staring ahead of him at his shadow with a fixed gaze.

Peter bit at his lip as he listened to Mr. Stark as he began to move around the kitchen, willing himself to sink into the cushions, relaxing with the clattering sounds of movement. He tuned into the notes of activity, listening intently as the billionaire softly clanged a pan on the stove, eggs cracked and cheese grated. There was the sizzle of cooking and the perfume of comfort. The teenager's mouth watered unwillingly at the smell of a hot breakfast.

So, of course, it was the grumble of his stomach that gave him away.

Peter winced at the loud noise, only worsened by the stifling of movement in the room for a long moment before it finally returned. He thought that maybe he'd gotten away with being awake when Mr. Stark called, "You up, kiddie?"

Seeing no point in lying, Peter pushed the blanket off of himself and peeked his head up over the back of the couch. Mr. Stark caught his eye immediately, overlooking the room from the stove in the kitchen area. The man smiled at him, and Peter tried for a small one back. It was weak, and he knew it. Mr. Stark probably knew it too.

"How're you feeling, Pete?" Mr. Stark asked.

"Ah, fine, fine," Peter said, getting off of the couch and stumbling over sleepily. After a moment of hesitation, he sat on a stool beside the kitchen counter, peeking over the polished marble to catch a glimpse of what Mr. Stark was cooking, pointedly ignoring the stack of papers on the other countertop. He was pretty sure that he was making an omelet. Just to double check, he asked, "Whatcha making?"

"Breakfast," Mr. Stark answered. So, not that helpful, but Peter didn't push. Instead, the teenager tried to sit back and make his shoulders relax. "We should check your bandages after we eat, okay?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, sure. That's good. Real good."

"And...I have something I want to talk to you about."

Peter couldn't help the way he froze, tensing so tightly he could probably make diamonds. Terrorizing anxiety coursed through the teenager in a way that he hated with every fiber of his being. He didn't know why he was freaking out so bad, why he felt like his soul was about to leave his body and take every rational thought with it.

"Yeah. Sure, sure. Okay," he managed to say. Mr. Stark gave him a look, but thankfully didn't pry, instead grabbing a spatula and tediously flipping the bright yellow omelet. Once that was finished cooking, Mr. Stark placed it on a plate a little messily and handed it to Peter along with a tall glass of orange juice. He thanked the mechanic quietly, quickly moving to eat the food.

Mr. Stark grabbed a piece of toast with jam on it and sat on a stool next to Peter. The two sat in tired silence while they ate, nothing breaking the lull save for the slight chewing of food and scraping of utensils. Mr. Stark finished his piece of toast before Peter finished his omelet, but only barely as the teenager polished it off ravenously. He could tell that Mr. Stark was anxious to get to that talk, but the man allowed for him to finish his glass of orange juice before beginning to talk again.

"So," Mr. Stark started, tapping on the counter nervously. Peter watched him anxiously as the man stepped off the stool, continuing to talk as he walked into the kitchen. "How much of our conversation do you remember while you were concussed last night?"

"Ah, most of it. I think," Peter said.

"Do you remember when I told you you couldn't go back to Fowler? And that I'd fix it?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah..."

"Well, I've got a solution." Mr. Stark stopped, his back to Peter, in front of where the stack of papers had been sitting. There was a moment of silent hesitation before the man picked it up, turning back around to face the teenager. "It's--if you don't like it, I can figure something else out, it's all up to you. But I'm completely willing to become your legal guardian."

Peter just stared, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. Shock overtook his bruised body, leaving him a restless shell that was reduced to do nothing but stare. Mr. Stark hurried on in a slight panic.

"Of course, nothing's been finalized. My topnotch lawyers and the pulling of a couple of strings got me these" he gestured to the papers, "pretty quickly. They've all been notarized and signed, but nothing's official until you agree. It's your choice, kid."

Swallowing felt like the hardest thing he'd ever done as the teenager tried desperately to reset his glitching brain.

"My... You're going to be my guardian?" was all that he could say. It came out as a squeak, barely audible even to his ears.

Mr. Stark nodded. "Only if you're okay with it."

Peter could only gape at him for a moment before sputtering, "Wha--I don't-I don't---are you okay with it??"

Mr. Stark's face, contorted into confusion and slight apprehension, relaxed as the teenager finally managed to spit out his confusedly stuttered question. The smile that appeared was a little tired, a little exasperated, but no less warm.

"I'm five thousand percent okay with it," the man said. "I've never been more okay with anything in my life."

Peter stared up at him, swallowing forcefully. He wanted to say yes, to agree and finally be safe and okay, but hope was something hard to hold onto. This kind of trusting optimism, it was horribly unfamiliar to the teenager. It had been months since a hand on his shoulder had meant the friendly guidance of a caring parent rather than the controlling demand of Mr. Fowler. Since hugs had been constant and loving and Peter hadn't had to wonder about his place or his next meal. All those months had festered up so easily, and even the thought of trusting that everything would be okay with Mr. Stark was daring.

"Are you sure? Like, really sure? Because, I know-I know I can cause a lot of trouble and I still want to stay at my school in Queens and--"

"Then we'll stay in Queens," Mr. Stark interrupted. "And I'll keep up with you and your 'trouble.' I want to. I want to take care of you." When Peter was silent, Mr. Stark chewed at his cheek and then started, "You know what they say about soulmates? And their purpose?"

"That depends on who you ask, Mr. Stark," Peter managed to mutter. Mr. Stark huffed a laugh.

"Fine. What's the oldest, craziest, old wive-i-est tale about soulmates and destiny you can think of?"

Peter thought for a moment, searching in his mind desperately for what his Aunt and Uncle had used to tell him whenever he'd asked about soulmates. About when he'd meet his shadow and what it would be like.

"That souls were attached to each other for a reason?" he suggested with a shrug. "I don't know. Aunt May used to say that we were part of the same soul, but Uncle Ben wouldn't hear a word against soulmates being different souls that were, like, perfectly matched to support each other. He believed more in the destiny part."

Mr. Stark smiled.

"They sound like they knew what they were talking about."

Peter nodded, rubbing at his nose and sniffing tearfully, "Yeah. Yeah, they were pretty great."

"Well, I've never been one for the whole destiny thing, but I can't deny what it feels like to be around my soulmate. Like a purpose just dropped on my doorstep. Which is how I know that I'm more sure than sure that I want to take care of you."

"You think that that's your purpose?"

It sounded ludicrous to the teenager's ears. This was Tony Stark. Iron Man. He saved lives and the world and he'd fought aliens. He provided affordable and clean energy for the world. He ended wars and funded charities and he was important. And Peter...Peter was just himself.

"I know it is."

Peter let that sit, eyes glancing for a moment. Something finally clicked. After what felt like years and no time at all he choked out a teary, "Yeah. Yeah, I wanna stay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly Mr. Stark was by his side, a hand draped over his shoulder and his chin pressed into the boy's hair. Peter couldn't help the tears then, silent and staining his cheeks a flushed red. He sniffled with the relieved tears, his nose beginning to run. Mr. Stark only wrapped him in a tighter hug, soothing circles rubbed into the teen's bony back.

"It's okay, Peter. I've got you."

---

After Peter signed the papers, Tony had broken out two specially ordered cupcakes, his heart practically cracking in two at the way the teenager's eyes had lit up with unbelievable excitement. The mechanic had expected for the kid to gobble up the dessert in less than a second flat, but instead, Peter savored it slowly, as if afraid that it would disappear if he took his eyes off of it.

Peter later admitted the truth about mealtimes at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. The same meals every day (cereal for breakfast, PB&J's for lunch and dinner). One snack. No sweets.

No wonder the kid was nothing but skin and bones.

Tony kept Peter in the compound for another few days after the Vulture incident, putting out fires and making sure the kid, and himself, had both fully healed. As well as narrowing down some apartments in Queens. He and Pepper had already been picking between them for days beforehand anyway, so he'd taken the last options to Peter, not that the kid had really voiced an opinion.

Tony ended up going with the most expensive one. They moved in after three days in the compound. A small suitcase filled with Peter's meager belongings that Happy had recovered from the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys was the only thing the kid ended up bringing with him. If Tony had to guess, he would say that the teenager had maybe three pairs of clothes.

The kid kept huddled next to him, painfully close the entire time as Tony swiped the card to the building, as they walked through the lobby and into the elevator, and when they finally walked through the door. Not that he minded in the slightest, enjoying the bewildered look on Peter's face as they stepped into the apartment. There was still plenty of unboxing to do and furniture to move around, with Pepper's supervision of course, but the teenager was clearly losing his mind with the high-rise.

"Whoa..." Peter muttered under his breath. Tony hummed in agreement.

"Pretty nice, right? Of course, Friday hasn't been installed yet, and there's a few changes to be made, but I think this is good."

"Changes?"

"This building didn't come pre-stocked with a state of the art lab, y'know. I was thinking about transforming the floor below."

"This apartment has three floors?" Peter asked, his eyes widening as he turned away from the glass stairs leading up to where Tony was pretty sure a couple of bedrooms were.

"No, just two. I bought the building."

"You... What?"

"I bought the building," Tony repeated offhandedly, moving to explore the new kitchen. "We still have neighbors downstairs, of course, but I wasn't about to have a landlord tell me what to do. Besides, better for insurance."

"I don't like that that's what you're concerned about," entered a new voice. Tony turned and smiled brightly at the sight of his girlfriend stepping into the apartment. She was clearly tired from all the fallout from the plane crashing, but she held a genuine smile on her face nonetheless.

"Pep!" Tony called. "You're just in time to unpack."

Pepper rolled her eyes at him, instead turning to greet Peter, who was staring at the woman like she was God herself. When she held out a hand, it took Peter a few moments to fumble out a response and shake her hand.

"Hi--hello, Ms. Potts," the kid stuttered. "I'm--I'm Peter."

"Hi, Peter. You can call me Pepper."

"Okay. Pepper."

Tony made a buzzer noise. "Excuse me? I'm still Mr. Stark? Who's your soulmate here?"

"That's your name, Mr. Stark," Peter smiled. Tony ruffled his hair as embarrassingly as possible.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Peter-butter."

If looks could kill, he would say that Peter was trying to kill him. However, the flushed cheeks and baby doe eyes did nothing but make Tony's heart wiggle in amusement and Pepper stifle an coo.

"Stop terrorizing the kid," Pepper reprimanded. "Especially when we've got work to do. Once Peter's stuff gets here we can begin moving that into you room, but for now we'll work on the main area."

"Oh, uh, my stuff is here, Ms. Potts," Peter mumbled. Eyes strayed to the beaten up bag. Tony and Pepper exchanged a glance.

"New plan," Tony announced. "Online shopping. C'mon."

"But--"

"Nope," Pepper cut across. "You're a part of the family now, Peter. We get to splurge on gifts."

Together, the two grabbed Peter's arms, leading him over to the steadiest pile of boxes and sitting down. Tony pulled out his phone and placed it in front of Peter, who didn't even touch the phone now balanced on his leg, just stared at it in confusion.

"I--what?"

Making a face, the mechanic tapped Peter's head. "C'mon, Petey-Pie. You know how to work a phone. Whadda ya want first?"

"I don't--I don't know? I don't really care."

Tony glanced over at Pepper once more, a little bit at a loss. He would be lying if he said he knew exactly how to connect with Peter. He felt like he'd been doing a good job thus far, but not everything made sense to him about their relationship, and a teenager given basically an infinite amount of resources to get whatever he wanted and wanting nothing was confusing him more than anything ever had.

With a look that clearly said, 'Let me take the lead,' Pepper picked up the phone, drawing Peter's attention.

"How about we just start simple? We'll start on your room now, and then go shopping later for clothes, okay?"

"O-okay," Peter mumbled. Tony gave him a comforting pat on the back.

"Great," Pepper said. "What kind of bed do you want? Queen? King? Bunk bed?"

"Bunk bed," Peter said after a moment.

"Great. What sheets?" Tony asked. Peter shrugged, but Tony shook him playfully. "C'mon, my little shadow. I know you're a nerd deep down, and on the surface too. What sheets do your geeky little teenager heart desire?"

"Star Wars?"

"Star Wars it is," Pepper declared.

Peter smiled, his cheeks cherry red. Tony grinned. Now they were getting somewhere.

Ten Months Later

"Boss, Mr. Parker is back."

Tony glanced up from where he was working in the lab, looking away from his newest project to smile brightly at the ceiling. He stood up, wiping his oily hands off on his equally oily pants, finally conceding to grab a cloth and rub the slick grease from his fingers. The mechanic gave the new project one last glance before throwing the cloth down on the nearest table and stepping toward the elevator.

"Great. Tell him I'm on my--"

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Tony turned, a confused expression turning into a small smile as he caught sight of the red and blue figure stuck on the window, waving at the mechanic in excitement. He rolled his eyes, walking over and undoing the latch on the window to let the teenager finally at a healthy weight roll into the room.

"I'm gonna start putting bug spray around the apartment until you learn to use a door," Tony warned. Peter pulled his mask off, revealing hair pulled down by sweat and a bright smile. They grew brighter and brighter every day. The teenager rammed a shoulder into Tony's playfully.

"Why can't a window be a door?"

"Because it's a window."

"Old houses in the south used to be able to transform between windows and doors to evade taxes."

Tony considered him. "How do you know this?"

"Decathlon."

Tony rolled his eyes, unsure of how he hadn't guessed that. He was going to the kid's competition next week for heaven's sake!

"Well, this is not the old south. We use doors here."

"That's less fun."

"Yeah, yeah. Go wash up for dinner."

"But it's barely five! I was going to go out again."

"Should've thought about that earlier," Tony teased. "It's family dinner night. And don't you have an essay due?"

Peter mumbled, but listened nonetheless, beginning to pad away towards the elevator to go up to their apartment suite, when there was the ringing of an oncoming call. Both of their heads turned as a screen popped up, displaying an unknown number, untraceable too. Tony and Peter exchanged raised eyebrows as the kid walked back over.

"What is this, Fri?"

"It is an incoming call from the phone Captain Rogers sent you."

Peter glanced between him and the screen warily. "That means there's a problem, doesn't it?"

"Probably," Tony admitted.

He turned to the kid, patting the kid's back and fixing him with a steady stare. Peter's doe eyes attached to his, trusting in a way that had been growing exponentially recently. Tony hadn't known it was possible to look at someone with that much trust. That much love. Especially from a kid whose first interaction with Tony had ended up in him running away, but life had become steadily calm, steadily trusting, as the days had gone by. As the months had. A few bumps in the road and a couple of mishaps, some bigger than others along the way, but good nonetheless. Yeah, life was good.

Tony liked to think he was right most of the time, but even he knew he was pretty hit or miss on how to remain any kind of relationship. But this--Tony knew he'd been right. His purpose was to protect Peter. And he loved every second of it.

"But if it is, I'll keep you safe. We'll fix it together."

Peter's lips tugged in a trusting smile. He held out a fist. "Together. MacaTony--"

Tony returned the fist bump lightly with a roll of his eyes, grinning as he caught sight of their shadows switching, "--And Peter-butter."

Whatever Steve was calling for, neither would be going in alone. They were never alone.

Their shadows made sure of it.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7

@annabanannabeth

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #Iron Man #spiderman #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker #thank you so much everybody for sticking around and reading my story!!!#:)))

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sweetyyhippyy · 4 years ago

Text

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 5.

Chapter 5: Rough.

(Not my gif).

Summary: After an out of state case runs long, Spencer decides to take Bridgett somewhere special. Smut ensues on the car ride there and for the rest of the night.

Pairing: Season 6 Spencer x OC! Plus size character Bridgett Mendez.

TW: This chapter is pure filth. Heavy making out, road head, Dom!Spencer, oral sex (female receiving and male receiving), face slapping, handcuffing, naughty names, spanking, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, some fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5.5k

A.N.: Hi! This is middle of season 6 Spencer 😊 please reblog/leave feedback! I’m super proud of this chapter, so please don’t let it flop! DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE NOT 18+!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you ready to get out of here?” Spencer asks, walking into the conference room.

“I just need to finish putting this stuff away and then I’ll be ready. I need a boiling hot bath.”

“What do you say we have a weekend to ourselves? Just us.” Spencer whispers coming up behind her, kissing her shoulder and hugging her against his chest.

Bridgett giggles, dropping her head back onto his chest.

“We’re going to get caught. Since when are you okay with PDA?” Her eyes flutter closed, content with feeling the warmth of her boyfriend wrapped around her.

He kisses her forehead, “How about we head up by Cumberland, there’s a nice cabin. We can leave in a few hours. Either stay in. Or explore. Or stay in and I can explore you, and you me.” He whispers, kissing her neck with every new idea he had.

Bridgett laughs, turning herself around and softly kissing his lips. The whole team had been in California with 2 cases back to back. They hadn’t been back home in Quantico in almost 3 weeks. Thankfully, Hotch gave them a case free weekend once they got back to relax from the long few weeks it’s been.

“Let me guess, you already booked a place?”

“On the plane ride home when you were passed out next to me. We can leave now, pack a bag, even though I don’t think we’re going to be wearing much clothes with all the things I have planned for us.”

Bridgett raises her eyebrows, “Someone’s overly horny. Is 3 weeks too long without being able to touch me?”

Spencer looks around, the office dead quiet, and pushes Bridgett against the conference room table, making her sit on top of the tabletop. He forces her legs around his torso, grabbing her face and pressing a long, sensual kiss against her lips. Bridgett moans against him, and presses her body against his. Spencer’s long fingers gravitate to Bridgett’s blouse, undoing the buttons. Bridgett pulls back from the kiss, Spencer instantly dropping his head and kissing her neck.

“Are we really doing this? We work on this table, Spence.” She half laughs, feeling his teeth rake against her skin.

“Yeah, and right now I’m about to work you into this table.”

Bridgett can’t help but snort, trying to keep her laughter in. Spencer chuckles, making eye contact with her.

“That sounded a lot sexier in my head and a lot less dumb.”

Bridgett laughs, pressing a kiss to his neck and pulling him closer by his tie. “Go ahead and work me into the table, pretty boy.”

Spencer finishes unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it off her shoulders, his fingers delicately touching the lace cupping her breasts, her body shivering and goosebumps covering her body. Bridgett unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants massaging the bulge through his pants. Spencer nips at her ear, making her moan and giggle.

“What the hell is going on?”

Both of them jump, Spencer turning around quickly, his mouth agape. Derek is standing in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought… we thought-“

“Yeah i know what you two thought. Really? We all sit there.”

Bridgett grabs her shirt, fumbling with the buttons until she’s finally covered. Her heart was racing, getting caught was actually kinda sexy.

“How long have you two been doing this?” The room was silent.

“Well a few minutes…” Spencer says, finally breaking the silence.

Bridgett sighs, leaning her head against his shoulder. Clearly all the blood that was in his brain was rushing in between his legs.

“Not that. I mean sleeping together.”

“We’re not just sleeping together. We’ve been in a relationship for 6 months. Almost 7.” Bridgett interjects, still shielding herself from Derek.

“And when were you planning on telling us?”

“We didn’t want it getting around and getting back to HR. We didn’t mean to intentionally keep it from the rest of the team.”

Derek smiles, “I guess this is what I get for forgetting my wallet. And, just FYI we all had our suspicions. See you on Monday.”

Bridgett laughs into Spencer’s neck, noticing the case file hiding his crotch.

“I told you we were going to get caught.” Spencer jokes.

“We’re not stopping to get clothes. Just grab your go bag and meet me in the car, doctor.” Bridgett whispers, ghosting a kiss on his lips before walking out of the room.

***

It was less than a 2 hour car ride. Spencer actually volunteered to drive the whole way there, which meant Bridgett could get the ball rolling on her plan to continue what Spencer got started at work.

Bridgett rests her hand on Spencer’s upper thigh, slowly running her fingertips up at down his thigh, nearing closer and closer to the tent still in his pants.

“What are you doing?” Spencer questions.

“I’m just touching your leg… what are you doing?”

“I know what you’re doing. Stop it.” He warns, making Bridgett smirk to herself.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m just touching your leg like you touch mine all the time, baby.”

“I know how I touch your leg, and I know you’re just trying to cause trouble.”

Bridgett hums along to the music softly playing on the radio, turning her head out of her window, watching the scenery. Her hand continues to crawl up his lap again, slowly feathering her fingers against the zipper of his pants.

Spencer shakes his head, his hands shifting on the steering wheel. “You’re going to be in a world of hurt, Bridgett.”

“Am I? You know I like getting in trouble.” She unzips his pants, fishing around his boxers and pulling his cock out. Bridgett unbuckles her seatbelt, leaning over the center console and licks a long stripe up his member.

Spencer sucks in air through his teeth, a low groan slipping through his lips. Bridgett smiles, kissing and licking around the head of his cock, teasing him as her tongue drags agonizingly slow around.

“God damn Bridge.” He breathes out, his fist gripping her hair out of her way as her mouth envelops his cock. She slowly takes him all in, breathing in deeply to avoid choking on him. Once her mouth hits his base, she holds it there for a few seconds before quickly pulling him out, a long string of saliva hanging out of her mouth.

“Did you like that baby? Should I keep going?”

Spencer’s eyes go between the road and his girlfriend, her lips swollen and still slightly parted, eyes glazed over.

“You better keep going until I tell you to stop. And just FYI, my love, you’re definitely going to be in trouble once we get to the cabin.”

“I was hoping I would be.” Bridgett smiles, kissing his cheek before tying her hair up in her hair tie. She spits onto his member, massaging it in.

“Use your mouth.” Spencer says through his teeth.

Bridgett looks up at him, smirking. “Focus on the road. Not me, baby.” She leans back down, kitten licking his tip again.

“Smart ass. You’re being a brat because you know I can’t do anything to you right now.”

She giggles as she takes him back down her throat, massaging the rest of his cock that she doesn’t have her mouth on.

Spencer drops his head for a few seconds to watch Bridgett bobbing her head up and down on him, he can feel her hollow her cheeks out, making the room in her mouth tighter. He whimpers, putting his attention back on the road, watching her any longer and he would have came down her throat in less than 5 seconds.

“Mmm, look at my good girl. Taking such good care of me. Sucking me off so fucking well.”

Bridgett releases him, needing to come up for air. She wipes the sides of her mouth clean, licking alongside a vein on the underside of his cock. Spencer groans loudly, his eyes rolling back in his head. She flattens her tongue out, gripping the bottom of his cock and lightly tapping it against it.

“You’re going to make me cum in your pretty mouth.”

“I want it. I wanna taste it, daddy.”

Spencer looks at her lovingly, squeezing her chin. Bridgett kisses Spencer’s palm before going back down on him. Her head and mouth working quickly. Spencer’s breath hitches in his throat, feeling Bridgett gagging on his member again. He slowly starts to fuck her throat, bucking his hips slightly. Whining moans along with curse words string out of his mouth as he feels his climax come nearer. He quickly flicks the turn signal on, pulling over to the side of the highway. He thrusts a few more times into her mouth before spilling into the back of her throat. Bridgett moans swallowing the warm thick liquid. She releases him, Spencer relaxing his body against the seat. Bridgett sits back up, grinning at Spencer proudly. Spencer grabs her face and smashes a kiss against her lips. She smiles into the kiss, trying to bring him closer to her. He pulls back from the kiss, shaking his head.

“Hold on, pretty girl. We’re almost there and then I get to have my way with you. Since you already had your way with me.”

Bridgett whines, throwing herself against the seat. “But we’re already pulled over. I want you to touch me and make me cum.”

He laughs, Turning the key again and starting the car merging back to the traffic, ignoring her plea. “Patience isn’t your strongest trait. You’ll get what you’ve been waiting for when we get in the room.”

***

Spencer hands Bridgett the key to the cabin, grabbing their bags from the back of her car. Bridgett walks ahead to the wooden lodge, opening the door. The inside of the cabin was beautiful, dark brown logs along the wall and on the ceiling, red accents on the curtains and pillows on the couch, a huge fireplace on the main wall. Spencer walks past her, dropping their bags on the floor.

“It’s so cozy in here.” You have great taste in relaxation spots.” She says, moving closer to Spencer.

He grabs her wrists, putting them behind her back. Bridgett gasps, her body instantly getting hot in arousal. She feels his breath against her neck, his free hand pulling at her hair tie, unraveling her hair.

“Walk.” He whispers, nipping at her neck roughly. Bridgett yelps, her body tightening in his grasp. Spencer lets her go, gently pushing her in the direction of the bedroom, spanking her as she walks away. She walks slowly through the dimly lit hallway, trying not to trip.

“Strip.”

Bridgett jumps, not realizing Spencer was so close behind her. She quickly unbuttons her blouse and slips it off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor. She unhooks her bra, throwing it behind her toward Spencer. She feels a sharp slap against her still clothed butt. Bridgett laughs, turning and wrapping her arms around Spencer’s neck, kissing him. Spencer moans, his hands resting on her bare hips, his cold fingers making her shiver. He pushes Bridgett against the wall, unbuttoning her pants and dropping down to one knee to pull her shoes off first and then her pants. He intentionally leaves her underwear on, his large hands starting at her calves and slowly moving them up her thighs, barely seeing her eyes glued to him in the small bit of light coming from the main room.

“Look how beautiful my girl is.” He whispers. Spencer kisses up her thighs, humming with each kiss he plants on her. “I love you so much, Bridgett.” He always told her how much he loved her right before sex because during sex he said and did stuff that was out of character for him; he didn’t mean; calling her a bad girl, a dirty little girl, a slut or whore depending on Bridgett’s mood.

“I love you too Spence.” She whispers, touching his hair.

Spencer’s fingers pull down the waistband of her underwear, pulling them down agonizing slow.

“I plan on fucking you on every possible surface of this cabin this weekend.” He says, his mouth extremely close to her throbbing pussy. Bridgett hums in response, waiting for him to dive in. She feels his fingers massage the lips to her opening, feeling the slickness that had dripped out of her.

“I can never get over how wet you get before I even touch you. It amazes me every single time that I have that effect on you.”

He was torturing her, making her wait and pine for his tongue or his fingers. She got restless against the wall, whining in desperation.

“Ah, ah, use your words, little girl. Why are you upset?” He asks in an almost condescending tone, instantly annoying her.

“Because I want you to touch me.” She mutters, furrowing her eyebrows. Spencer stands back up, putting his hands on the wall behind her, and dropping his head to her ear.

“How do you get what you want?”

“By being a good girl.” She responds shivering against him.

“And were you being a good girl in the car?”

“Yes.”

Spencer slaps her in the face, grabbing her by the neck. Bridgett shakily laughs, she loved talking back to him or giving him smart ass answers because it got him riled up.

“You think a good girl sucks me off while I’m trying to drive? Do you think that makes you a good girl?” His fingers give her neck a light squeeze.

“Yes I do, daddy.”

He smacks her cheek again, pushing his knee between her thighs, his knee resting right in between her folds.

“You know what it makes you for swallowing my cum in the car, don’t you? What’s the right answer?”

Bridgett presses a small kiss to his throat before answering, “A bad little slut.” She starts to circle her hips, creating friction she desperately needed, she moans at the tingling feeling from her clit.

Bridgett takes Spencer’s hands and puts them onto both her boobs, holding them against her. Spencer got lost between massaging Bridgett’s boobs, making her nipples hard in the process and feeling how wet and warm her pussy left against his pant leg. Even though he tried to play the dominant role, Bridgett had Spencer wrapped around her finger, he became a little weak at hearing her moan. It was like music to his ears hearing her moan and whimper his name telling him how good he was making her feel even though she was doing all the work. It turned him on to see how she was getting herself off on him, but he wasn’t going to let her cum just yet. After a few more hip swivels he removes his knee and his hands, earning a whimper from Bridgett.

“Fuck you.” She whines. Spencer grabs both of her wrists again, pulling her close to him, making them chest to chest.

“What's the matter with the pretty girl? You didn’t get to cum on daddy’s leg?”

Bridgett shakes her head, “No. You’re being mean.” She pouts her lip out, taking full advantage of being a brat since he wasn’t giving into her anyway.

“Go to the bedroom and get on the bed.” He says, releasing her wrists. Bridgett crosses her arms over her bare chest.

“No.” She plainly says. She knew she was in for it, but she wanted to be in trouble because she knew once they were done she got all the affection she wanted from Spencer, and that was her favorite aftercare.

“Did you just tell me no?”

Bridgett stays quiet, waiting to see what Spencer was going to do. She hears a familiar clinking of metal before Spencer takes her wrist and places her hand in the metal of the handcuffs he brought with him and tightens it in place, repeating the same to her other wrist, her hands confined to the front of her body.

“You don’t want to listen to me? Then I get to make you listen to me. Walk.” Spencer takes her by her arm and leads her to the bedroom, throwing her onto the bed, face down against the soft blanket. She can hear Spencer moving behind her, she turns her head to see him ridding himself of his clothes, always the last of the two of them naked when things started getting hot and heavy. Once he was fully naked he stood behind her, admiring her ass, he rubs both sides of her, before harshly slapping one of them. Bridgett yells out a moan, burying her face into the bed. Spencer grabs a fist full of her hair, “Turn your head and look at me.” He says sternly, releasing her hair. She turns her head to the side, watching as he stared into her eyes as he spanked her again, this time a lot harder.

“Spence.” She whines. He shushes her, giving her another slap.

“Do you like that?” He asks in a low voice. Bridgett moans again, wiggling her ass against him. He gives her 4 more slaps back to back, the spot tingling in the best way possible. Spencer leans back and admires the redness on the skin, touching it lightly with his fingers. Spencer wraps his arms around her waist, flipping her over onto her back, placing his hands on either side of her and biting at the skin on her chest.

“Are you ready to admit you were being a bad girl in the car? That way you get what you want?”

“When have you ever known me to admit when I’m wrong?” She laughs, wrapping her legs around his waist and rubs her middle against him, feeling his hard cock.

Spencer wraps his hands around her throat again, loving the way her eyes rolled in the back of her head at the feeling.

“Do you want me to beg, daddy? You want me to beg for you to finally touch me?”

He raises his eyebrow, liking what Bridgett was getting at. “Let me hear what you have.”

Bridgett’s eyes grow soft looking up at him, “Baby, please touch me, or fuck me, I’ve missed you touching me the past few weeks and I need it. Please touch your bad little girl, I promise I’ll be good the rest of the weekend.”

Spencer smirks at her, taking her handcuffed hands and pinning them above her head, holding them down against the bed. He lays on his side next to her torso, dragging his fingertips down her stomach, drawing out goosebumps. His fingers finally feather over her wetness, spreading her lips before settling in between them and rubbing her clit. Bridgett sighs in relief, her back arching up off the bed. Spencer’s fingers rub lazy slow circles around the bud, watching how Bridgett’s body reacts to his touch.

Her eyes stare into his, “Kiss me please?” Spencer obliges, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He slowly drags his fingers down to her entrance and pushes two fingers in. Bridgett moans into his mouth, melting against him.

Spencer pulls back from the kiss, moving down her body kissing her the whole way down before settling in between her mound and diving straight in. Bridgett whines pathetically, her bound hands flying down to his hair, the only thing in her grasp.

“Fu-fuck Spence. Baby I love you.” She can feel the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes, the only man to ever make her basically cry building up to orgasm.

Spencer tongue works against her bud quickly, making suckling movements to it. His fingers working feverishly fast in and out of her, the sounds filling the room borderline obscene of the wetness between her legs coaxing out of her. She could feel the pressure building, her walls becoming more slippery.

“You’re going to make me cum. I’m going to squirt I can feel it.”

Spencer went back and forth in his mind on whether or not he wanted to let her cum or make her suffer and deny her of her orgasm for the second time that night. Once he saw her eyes flutter closed and her upper body arch off the bed, he withdrew his fingers and his mouth. Bridgett deflated back onto the bed, cussing at Spencer.

“I fucking hate you when you do that.” She whines, giving him a deadly glare.

“You don’t hate me. You wanna know how I know you don’t?” He asks, grabbing both of her legs and putting them on his shoulders, not giving her any preparation he glides into her soaking wet entrance, instantly rutting into her tightness. Bridgett cries out, her head rolling to the side.

“You don’t hate me do you, baby?” He coos in her ear. “You love me? You love daddy?”

“Yes. Yes I love you. I love you so much, daddy.” She says breathlessly, staring into her boyfriend’s eyes. He loved seeing her eyes fighting to stay open, how her cheeks had a slight blush to them from being overly hot. He was beyond in love with her. He dropped his head down in between her breasts, coming close to his climax already.

“Flip me over.”

Spencer picks his head up, grabbing her hips and flipping her onto her front, helping her onto her knees and helping her settle into place. Bridgett still had red patches on her ass from the spankings before, and Spencer knew she was going to be marked for a few days at least. Bridgett pushes herself back against his cock, wiggling her ass against him. He puts his fingers back inside her wetness and rubs his wet fingers along the tip of his cock before sliding back in. Bridgett loved when Spencer took her from the back, he got so much deeper and so much more desperate with his thrusts.

“I love how you stretch me out, daddy. It feels so good.” Bridgett whimpers. She realizes her hands are loose enough to bring one up to her clit and massage it while Spencer rocked against her. Her body melts against the mattress at the new sensation, her torso laid out flat with only her ass in the air. Spencer was mesmerized at the sight of his cock thrusting in and out of and how wet it was, and at the sight of Bridgett playing with herself.

“Daddy, I’m going to cum. Can I please cum on your cock? I’m so close.”

Spencer grips her hair and pulls it back, making her cry out. “My dirty little girl wants to cum? Are you my good girl?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes I’m a good girl. I’m your good girl. Pl- fuck- please can I cum?”

With his hands still wrapped around her long hair he pulls it, bringing her torso up off the bed, making her back lean against his chest. At this point Bridgett was on the verge of losing it, her legs were shaking, she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Spencer moves her hands away from her clit, replacing it with his quickly. He rests his chin on her shoulder, his other arm wrapped around her waist trying to keep her from collapsing against the bed.

“Cum on my fingers, my love. Go ahead, daddy has you.” He circles her clit just a few more times before she releases, feeling liquid spurt onto his cock with each thrust. Bridgett screams, her head falling back against his shoulder, whimpering against him. Her mouth hangs open, her beautiful brown eyes barely open to lovingly look at Spencer.

“That’s my girl. You got another one in you?” He whispers, kissing her neck.

Bridgett barely whines in response, not having enough energy to make words or noise.

“I think you do. Let’s see.” Spencer repeats his actions this time much faster. Bridgett almost jumps out of his arms feeling how sensitive her bud was, Spencer having to bring her back against him.

“Too.. much…” Bridgett cries, more tears escaping the corner of her eye. Her eyes fixate on his, her brown eyes were glossed over and heavy.

“Just give daddy one more, baby and then you can be all done. One more beautiful, I can feel it building up inside you.”

Spencer’s thrusts dig deeper inside her to get her to finish, knowing that it was making his end come closer. His lips kiss all over the side of her neck, softly nibbling the skin. He can feel the explosion happen once more, more warm liquid gushing out of her. Bridgett’s nails dig into his thigh, scratching down his limb. A string of breathy “I love yous”, and cuss words leaving her mouth as she came down from her orgasm. Bridgett’s chest was rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath. Spencer shushes her and strokes her hair, giving her a break.

Bridgett’s eyes roll back in her head, she shakes her head at him, “I can- can’t anymore. I can’t cum again. No more, daddy, please?” She whimpers in his ear. Spencer nods his head, giving her a kiss on the lips.

“I know baby. You did such a good job squirting twice for me. You look so pretty while you cum.” Spencer pulls out, helping her lower herself down onto the bed slowly, her body going limp once it hits the mattress.

Spencer lays her onto her side, laying beside her in the same position, spooning her, and lifting her leg up and letting it rest on his hip. “Daddy’s almost done, pretty girl. Can you take me for a little bit longer until I cum inside you?”

Bridgett moans in response. Spencer slowly slides into her, almost losing it then and there, feeling how warm and wet her walls were against him, he could still feel them contracting from her previous orgasms. He bucks his hips up, thrusting up quickly, his hands squeezing her hip to keep Bridgett in place. Spencer groans, feeling his body shake, his breathing becoming hollow. He bites onto Bridgett’s shoulder as he releases into her. They both moan explicitly as Spencer fills her up, a little of the hot liquid spilling out onto Bridgett’s inner thigh. Both of them lay in bed for a few minutes quiet, their bodies spent from the playtime they just had. Spencer kisses Bridgett’s shoulder to the middle of her back before pulling out. Bridgett whines at the emptiness inside her, Spencer giving her two kisses on her forehead. She flips onto her back and watches Spencer grab his boxers and leave the room quickly. He comes back a few seconds later with a key in his hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“Lemme see your hands, Bridgy.”

She sits up onto her sore butt, offering her hands up to him, Spencer puts the key in and releases them from their metal confines. She rolls both her hands in circles and drops them onto her lap. Spencer kisses her forehead again and hands her the open water bottle, rubbing her legs as he watches her drink a few sips.

“Do you want some?” She asks, handing him the bottle. Spencer takes the cold water from her and takes a few gulps before putting it on the nightstand.

��I love you, pretty girl.” Spencer says softly, looking into her sleepy eyes lovingly.

“I love you too, baby boy.” She responds, taking his face into her hands and rubbing his jawline with her thumb. Spencer turns his face slightly, kissing Bridgett’s wrist.

“Let’s go take a bath.” He suggests, getting off the bed. Bridgett struggles to get off the bed, her whole lower half feeling like jelly. Spencer holds her hand all the way to the bathroom, sitting her on the closed toilet until the water warmed up. The tub was huge, little water jets surrounding the inside of the porcelain. Once Spencer was satisfied with the temperature he grabs a bottle of bubble bath solution and dumps a large amount of the bottle in. The tub quickly fills up with bubbles, Spencer quickly shutting the water off and slowly getting in.

“Come here, baby.” He reaches his hand out and helps her in the tub. She slowly sits in front of him, relaxing against his chest. Spencer smiles, stroking her hair and holding her against him. Her eyes shut in relaxation, humming. If she could, she would fall asleep right in the tub, she had everything she needed right behind her.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He whispers, kissing her cheek. Bridgett smiles up at him, holding his hand under the warm water.

“Yes but I wouldn’t mind hearing how much you love me.”

“I didn’t think I would ever fall in love with anyone, but I fall in love with you more everyday.”

Bridgett’s bottom lip pouts out, awwing at him. She turns her body around, wrapping her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his.

“I love you so much Spencer. I’ve never been so happy before. And nobody has ever treated me so well. You make me feel… warm and fuzzy all the time.” Bridgett laughs, not being able to think of the actual words she was trying to say.

Spencer laughs with her, kissing the tip of her nose.

“You give me the warm fuzzies too, my love. Let’s finish up our bath and then I have a surprise for you.”

As Spencer leans over Bridgett to get a washcloth, Bridgett takes a handful of soap and wipes it on his cheek. Bridgett snorts, going back in with more and wiping it across his chin, a little getting onto his lips. Spencer cocks an eyebrow at her, settling back behind her. Once she turns her face to look back at him, she cracks up seeing just how much of the suds ended up on his lips.

“You think it’s funny, huh? Come here, let me kiss you.”

Bridgett moves her body to the other side of the tub, covering her face with her hands. Squealing and laughing as Spencer tries to pry her hands off her face. He playfully bites at her wrist, making her move her hands, Spencer successfully planting a soapy kiss to her chin. The soapy mess went on for another 5 minutes, soap ending up everywhere on the floor outside of the tub. Spencer surrendered, waving the washcloth in his hand. Finally getting both of them clean and soap free. He steps out of the tub first, almost slipping right away. Spencer lays out bath towels to soak up the mess all over the floor, guiding Bridgett out of the tub and out of the bathroom before slipping his boxers and pajama pants on, leaving his top half bare.

Bridgett dries off quickly before crawling into the bed, still fully naked, and snuggling under the sheets. She waits for Spencer to come back from the kitchen, her eyes slowly drooping down, heavy from being exhausted. She doesn’t know how long she dozed off for before she feels Spencer shaking her shoulder softly. Bridgett rubs her eyes, sitting up.

“Sorry babe, I would have let you sleep but I’ve been dying to give this to you for weeks and I can’t wait anymore.” Spencer hands her a long skinny purple box, no logo or anything on it. She smiles at him before opening the box, a silver chain necklace with a matching silver crescent moon pendant at the end.

“Spence! You got this for me?” She asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

Spencer nods his head, his cheeks growing slightly red. He takes the necklace out of the box and opens the clasp.

“I got it for you before we left for California and I was going to give it to you on the night of the waning crescent moon because the night that I told you that I finally loved you… the moon was in the waning crescent phase… and I know you love looking up at the moon a lot so.” He smiles shyly, playing with the pendant.

Bridgett was in full blown tears after his explanation, she wraps her arms around Spencer’s bare torso and hugs him tightly. He wraps his arms around her, rocking her back and forth slightly.

“Why are you so amazing?” She asks, kissing his lower chin.

Bridgett sits up, moving her hair out of the way so Spencer can put the necklace on her. She takes the pendant between her fingers and looks down at it, smiling.

“I love you, so much Spencer. And I love the necklace. Thank you.” She says, kissing his lips.

“You’re welcome, baby. Do you want to go back to sleep? Your eyes still look tired.”

Bridgett nods, waiting for Spencer to lay down under the sheets and get settled before she snuggles up right next to him, laying her head on his bare chest. They lay together in silence, Spencer’s fingers massaging Bridgett’s scalp. This was when she was at her calmest, and most relaxed when she was in the arms of the man she loved, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and the occasional kiss pressed against her forehead.

#Spencer Reid #spencer reid smut fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fan fic #Spencer Reid fan fiction #matthew gray gubler fan fiction #matthew gray gubler fluff #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds fan fic #spencer reid x oc character #part of you can fic

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serendipitous-magic · 4 years ago

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Luke and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad 72 Hours

Imagine you’re a 19 year old working on a farm, and one day you buy some new animals from traveling merchants to help out around the farm - let’s say a goat and an ostrich. You’re cleaning them and getting them ready to work when you notice that the goat has a message tied around its neck. It sounds like the message might be intended for the kooky old guy who lives by himself out in the wilderness. You’ve met the guy a few times, you might even consider him a friend, but he’s mostly a mystery. You ask your uncle if he knows anything about it, but first he denies any knowledge and then he says the intended recipient of the message knew your dead father, and then he abruptly tells you to forget all about it.

Okay, weird???

That night, the goat runs away. The ostrich is freaking out about it. You go after it with the ostrich the next morning and find it making its way towards the old hermit’s house, but you’re attacked by a local gang and knocked tf out. When you wake up, the old hermit is there, and he takes you back to his place and drops the bomb on you that apparently your dead dad wasn’t who your family told you he was?? Apparently he wasn’t a navigator on a fishing boat, he was a pilot and a samurai warrior, and he was fucking murked by his samurai buddy??? And while that earth-shattering revelation is still fresh in your mind, Hermit Dude reads the rest of the Goat Message. Apparently it’s from a princess, and she’s asking Hermit Dude for help in a massive civil war that’s been going on. She says this goat is a Very Important Goat, and it’s carrying information that’s essential to the war effort that could restore prosperity to the entire world.

Hermit Dude then immediately sits back, looks you in the eye and without preamble says, “You’re going to have to learn how to be a samurai warrior if you’re gonna come with me to the big city and help this chick and save the war effort.” And you’re like “??? learn?? to be a samurai?? Big city?? What in the frick frack paddywack are you babbling about? Listen dude I got shit to do, I can’t just go off on this wild goat chase. But look, if it means so much to you I’ll give you a lift to the nearest town so you can go on your own.”

But on the way to town, you come across those traveling merchants you bought the goat and ostrich from - all dead, their caravan trashed. “This wasn’t the gang,” Hermit Dude says, “The government did this, and made it look like it was gang activity. They were looking for your Goat Message.” You race back home, only to find the smoldering remains of your farm, and the charred skeletons of your family laid out on the doorstep.

With nothing to do, nowhere else to call home, and a newfound revenge-driven fury in your chest, you return to Hermit Dude and say, “Make me a samurai like my apparently-murdered father, yo-yo master Hermit Dude. I’ll go help the war effort with you like the princess asked.”

So you all head off to this shady-ass small town run by crime lords. The government is already there, looking for the goat, and Hermit Dude hypnotizes these two military guys like it’s no big deal, sooooo apparently he can just do that? Okay, neat, neat, neat. Hermit Dude then chops somebody’s fucking arm off right in front of you in a bar fight (what the fuck), and long story short you end up selling your car so you can hitch a clandestine ride to the Big City in this fast-talking cowboy’s RV, which looks like it’s held together with spit and duct tape. Cowboy Guy’s best friend is this 7-foot-tall dude with so much hair and beard that he could probably hide weapons in it. The military arrives and you barely make it out of the parking garage, and you end up in a fucking car chase before you make it to the highway and get the hell outta dodge.

BUT THEN you finally arrive at the Big City, and it’s gone. There’s nothing there, just the ruined wasteland of nuclear rubble where the government dropped the bomb (which by the way was JUST invented). And as far as you know that’s??? Never happened before?? So, that’s terrifying. (Also keep in mind your home was razed and your family was brutally murdered like less than 24 hours ago so THAT’S still fresh.)

There’s one little government truck that sees you and takes off. Cowboy is like “Let’s shoot their tires out before they go report to somebody,” but there isn’t anybody around to report to. EXCEPT FOR THE CITY-SIZED BATTLE STATION ON WHEELS THAT ABDUCTS YOU, RV AND ALL. What the fuck is this? Since when did this exist??? They pull the RV into their parking garage, but you hide under the floor panels, surprise-attack some soldiers and steal their uniforms. You sneak into a control room, hoping to shut down the station’s power and escape, but while Hermit Dude goes to cut some power cords, you notice some records lying around. And, hey, what’s this? The princess that wrote the Goat Message? She’s here on Massive Battle Station? SCHEDULED TO BE EXECUTED??? Well, of course you can’t let that happen! Cowboy is grumpy about it but you manage to convince him.

Using your military disguises, you manage to find and save the princess from her cell, almost get crushed to death in a trash compactor while escaping from the prison section, and arrive back at the parking garage pursued by hordes of soldiers - only to witness Hermit Dude, your only remaining link to your home and your old life, get sliced in actual half right in front of you.

There’s another one for Trauma Bingo!

(P.S. you’ve also now killed several government soldiers in your escape. You’ve now killed people. You’re a killer.)

You manage to escape in the Duct Tape RV with Cowboy, Beard, Princess, Ostrich and Goat, but you’re followed by some government cars. You climb up on the roof to engage in an at-speed shootout with them, because after the last 36 hours, this is the least weird thing you’ve done. Firefight with government forces? Yeah, sure, what the hell. No big deal, honestly.

So now not only are you family-less and homeless, but you’re DEFINITELY on some sort of government list of known criminals. Guess there’s no going back now; you’re part of the rebels whether you want to be or not! Thankfully you’ve still got that grief-driven justice quest going on, doubly compounded by witnessing the murder of your mentor.

The RV makes it to the secret base where the rebels have been hiding. The Very Important Goat is finally delivered, and it coughs up plans for the gigantic battle station. So far, so good. Except, curses! The government tracked you here! Looks like the fight happens now. Game on, jackass government. Game on. “That’s impossible!” cries one pilot, to which you reply, “Nah, I basically did it all the time back home.” You sign up to fight: a pilot, like your dead samurai dad.

Why was a 19 year old civilian with some bush-plane experience (??) allowed to sign up to fly a fighter plane? We’ll never know.

Also, the goat comes on the plane with you.

Cowboy collects his payment and takes off, which you’re not happy about, but at least you’re reunited with your BFF from back home. So at least you have one single connection to home left.

Until he dies. RIP.

You try blowing up the Enormous Battle Station the normal way, but the disembodied spirit of Hermit Dude appears in your head and tells you to use your Magical Samurai Powers. You do, and succeed in blowing up the Big-Ass Battle Station just as Cowboy arrives again to take out the Big Baddie who killed Hermit Dude. The Traveling Nuke Factory is destroyed, the evil government has taken a big blow, and you get a shiny medal in a ceremony with your new friends.

So, let’s recap. In the last, oh, 2.5 days or so, you’ve gone from living your everyday life to seeing everything you know and love destroyed, to becoming a traitor to the evil government and a rebel, to fighting in (and winning) an intense military battle thanks to your fledgling Magic Powers, to now being the poster child of the rebellion.

You need therapy.

But at least the goat’s okay.

#star wars is wild #star wars #a new hope #sw: a new hope #luke skywalker #this is why luke went dark in ESB #the kid needs hella therapy

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navalcriminalimagines · 4 years ago

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request by @batnervousdazecollector: Hiii🥰I hope you’re doing gewddd hehe. So I’ve never made a request or suggestion for a fix but this literally keeps me up at night now, but I heard the song and immediately thought of sonny. Could you maybe do a fic based on driver’s license-Olivia Rodrigo? 😇🙏🏽please and thank you

words: 1,583

Drivers license

“Doll, you have thirty minutes to pack a bag. I have the week off, we’re going on that road trip we talked about,”

Most beautiful week in your 25 years of life. People would tell you “You’re young, you still have so much to live.” But they don’t know, they don’t understand. That week with Sonny was everything you ever dreamt about. Driving across the east coast, sleeping in the old van he rented, stopping to the most amazing point of view on the ocean. For an entire week, it was just you and him. Nothing more, nothing less. And it was perfect. That’s something nobody can take away from you.

You wished time would have stopped during this week. You wished that you never had to come back and face the reality. That’s why you still looked at those pictures you and Sonny took during that trip and fall asleep, every night, remembering all of those precious moments. From the moment you got into the plane and held his hand firmly since you were scared, to the last night when you passionately made love under the stars. The times he made you drive although you had no idea what you were doing, swimming in the ocean, watching a ridiculous movie in the van as it was raining outside, taking hours to befriend a deer, singing until your voices were off…

But now, you’re falling asleep alone, crying, remembering this week and the entire year you dated Sonny. Again, you fought with your friends tonight. They are tired of listening to you talking about him. After the breakup, they were very supportive, they helped you in every way they can, but it’s been a year now, and they just want you to get over him for good. You can’t. Cause they'll never know him the way that you do.

Sonny got home late that night. He was working on a tough case and he spent hours going through surveillance videos. He was tired, worn down, with a killer headache. All he wanted to do was join you into bed and hold you close to him. But to his surprise, you were still up. You were sitting on the couch, with your computer on your lap. The tv was on but he could tell you weren’t watching it. He kissed your forehead softly but you didn’t react. “It’s 2am babe, let’s go to bed,” he said.

“Nah, I’m good,” you answered.

You obviously were in a bad mood, but he couldn’t deal with it right now. He told you he was going to take a shower. You figured he would come back after but instead, you heard him going to bed. Angry, you stood up and walked to the bedroom. “Seriously, Dominick?”

“What?” His face was buried in his pillow.

“You’re going to bed and just—leave me like that?”

He growled and sat up on the bed. “Like what, Y/N? It’s always the same. When I come home late at night, you’re mad because I missed a night out with your friends, or I just wasn’t there. I have a job, and I’m very exhausted right now. I really don’t want to do this,”

“Well, I do. Cause you got it wrong tonight. I didn't have my driver’s license. Again,”

“You’ll get it next time, okay?”

“Is that everything you have to say? You know how important it is to me!”

“Y/N, there’s far more important things in this world then your fucking drivers license! Women are raped, they get killed. Trust me, they wish their driver’s license was the only problem they had!”

You know you messed up. He wouldn’t have broken up with you if you’ve acted differently. But he was your first real boyfriend, you were new to this and you didn’t know how to handle it. You should have been more attentive with him, more caring. And not stupidly jealous and selfish.

“Sorry I’m late babe. Amanda needed help with Jesse,” he peeked your lips and sat across you.

“Could’ve given me a heads up, Dom. I’ve been waiting here for an hour, all by myself,”

“I know, I’m sorry! I didn’t have time to pick me my phone,”

“Sure. Because you were too busy with Jesse—or maybe with Amanda,” you muttered.

“Don’t—don’t do this again, Y/N,”

“Why not? You always put her first!”

“I do not. But she has a baby, and a full time job as a detective. She’s my friend, I’m here for her. That’s it,”

“‘Your friend’, right.”

“Quit it, Y/N! I’m not cheating on you with Amanda, or with anyone else for that matter. It’s hurtful that you don’t trust me,”

You should have trusted him. He deserved it. He did everything he could to make you happy. The man was a full time detective, he took night school at Fordham Law, and he still managed to take care of everyone around him. The world needs more of Dominick Carisi Jr, but the world doesn’t deserve Dominick Carisi Jr.

Neither do you.

But still. You finally got your driver’s license and all you wanted to do was to call Sonny and tell him the good news. Driving has always been a big issue for you and you know, you wouldn’t have done it without him.

“Do you mind me asking you a question?” He asked.

“Shot,”

“Why don’t you have your driver's license? No judgment, I’m just very curious,”

It took a moment to finally tell him everything. “We had a car accident when I was 7. A very bad car accident. My father died, my mother was severely injured and I—I was paralyzed for years,”

“Your body aches when it’s very cold outside, is it—?”

“Yes, it’s because of it. My doc still tells me I should live somewhere warmer,” you paused. “After that, I couldn’t get into a car at all. With therapy I beat that fear and I was still very nervous, I would get panic attacks. Then, I managed to be comfortable but only with people I trust. Now, I’m okay with cars but not in the driver seat,”

Sonny helped you with that. More than he will ever know. Especially during that road trip you two had. It was the first time you sat in a driver seat and drove a little without having a panic attack. It took you two more years, but you finally got your driver’s license and now you drive alone past his street.

Is he happy now? Is he dating her and raising her children? You found out months ago she had another baby. Was this baby Sonny’s? You had so many questions and no answers.

“Dom,

I got my driver’s license last week. It felt good at first, I was so proud of myself… but now it’s bittersweet. You’re not here. I can’t drive to your home. I can’t invite you to a road trip. Or even just a little ride. I wish I could, just one time, as a thank you. I wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for you. You gave me the strength and confidence. You are a true diamond in this world and I will never get over the fact I let you go. I should have fought. Fought for you, for us. But it’s too late, right? We weren’t perfect but I never felt this way for no one. I hope you’re happy where you are. Happy with your life, but a part of me can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone. I could never.

Forever yours,

Y/N.”

What do you have to lose? You pulled over in his street, took a moment to breathe and you got out off your car. The letter in your hand, you walked to his building, entered the code and got in. It’s 4am, it’s dark, empty and very quiet. What are you doing? This is the stupidest thing ever. The worst idea in the history of ideas.

But still, you put the letter in his mailbox and left. You had nothing left to lose anyway.

He said forever, now you drive alone past his street.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You asked, as your head was resting on his chest.

“I—I used to, but I guess I stopped at some point,”

“Why?” You lift your head to look at his beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m 35, not married, no kids. Speak for itself,”

“Hmm,” you put your head where it was before. “But—I’m here now,” you said without any confidence.

“Indeed, you are,” Sonny squeezed you tighter to his chest. “Didn’t say I couldn’t believe in it again,” he kissed your hair. He felt you were smiling against his skin.

“I like to think that—we all have that one special person, you know? It doesn’t mean it always works out. You may not be the special person to your special person. But I think we all have that person you’ll never forget, no matter what,” Sonny was listening intensely to what you were saying. It makes sense, maybe you’re right. “You’re my special person, Dominick,” you concluded.

Maybe this was the most beautiful declaration of love Sonny never got. And in that moment, he got carried away. He grabbed your chin with his fingers and made you lift your head to face him. “Forever, then,” he said before kissing you deeply.

He said forever. But he never said you were his special person.

#law and order svu #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi fic #sonny carisi #carisi x reader #sonny carisi x reader #dominick carisi #law and order: special victims unit

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morizoras-cave · 5 years ago

Text

Bullies (Request)

Tom Holland x teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: Tom holland x teen!reader,reader is having a rough time in school but doesn't want anyone to know,until one day they were looking at their social media while sitting next to tom,in one of the post someone was mocking or bullying the reader,and to that they cried,tom was quick to comfort them and ask what's wrong and the reader told him,and he's like i am gunna talk to the school and tell them what they are doing. Hope is okay❤❤❤❤❤

Warnings: bullying, general sadness, MEAN comments, language probably

(A/N): man, i only do requests these days (lol ive had my blog for like a week) maybe ill do one of my own tonight or tomorrow along with a request :) ALTHOUGH, i really like doing your guys’ requests you have amazing ideas that i honestly would never come up with by myself :DDD <3

When you decided to do a movie, there were a lot of things that you didn’t sign up for, that came along with it. Some good, some bad. Like meeting all your favorite celebrities, the overwhelming fanbase that grew around you, the countless haters, and the 24/7 plane rides across countries.

You were now on one of said planes, your co-star and brother from another mother, Tom Holland sitting beside you. You had been intimidated to meet him at first, but he had been nothing but nice to you, and you always appreciated his presence.

He’d helped you a lot with fame and how to handle it, because in truth all you really wanted was to act. You could’ve never imagined what would come from it though, and you were eternally grateful to Tom.

However, you were hiding something. It was embarrassing and childish and it could never compare to Tom and his fame-problems. You were being bullied. And how could you let them bring you down when you had so many fans? It bothered you so much, and you couldn’t understand why, and the inability to understand only enhanced your misery.

It was at school, at least that’s where it was first. Some girls had started saying that you “thought you were too good for your school,” and that, “you were just a snobby celebrity now,”.

Then, when the trailer was released it’d had gotten worse and they’d pranked you and followed you around and even beat you up once. You couldn’t stand it. Now the press tour had started, and they’d settled for online harassment.

You’d tried to tell them to stop, but they just wouldn’t. You felt horrible inside, and had tried to avoid using your phone. But it was everywhere, everywhere that you needed to see, every website that you used. And at some point it had become an addiction.

You sought it out, even when you knew that it would hurt you. You just needed to see. You had to. And they’d started a page on instagram dedicated to it, so it was easy to find.

It was called Y/n-L/N-is-gross, and it consisted of pictures they’d taken of you in school, and then they captioned it making fun of your appearance, performance, personality, anything they could.

And it hurt. It hurt no less than the first time you read it. You didn’t want to go back to school again. You cried so much at night, and the broken and unhappy you had slowly crept into the daytime.

You were on your phone, biting your nail nervously, as you clicked on to their account. The many unpleasant and unflattering photos of you popped up, and there was the new post. You inhaled, looking to your side. Tom was also on his phone, not looking at you, so you cautiously clicked it.

You frowned.

‘y/n is fucking disgusting. she has no talent and all her photos are edited to shit. look at her. she is ugly. shes also just selfish and manipulative, an absolute whore’

Your breath hitched and unexpectedly you felt tears in your eyes. You tried to blink them away, but the tear simply fell. It hurt so much. They were right. Of course they were. I mean, look at you. You’re a disgusting whale, you’re untalented, you’re nothing, you’re-

“Y/n?”

You flinched, instinctively turning your phone off, and aggressively wiping your eyes. Tom was looking at you, his expression both confused and serious.

“Mhmm?”

“Were you crying just now?” he asked, and he seemed out of place. So did you. You didn’t like the situation, Tom didn’t seem to understand it.

“Uh,” was all you said, and that seemed to be enough of an answer for Tom.

“What-what, why were you crying just now? Are you okay? Did something happen?” he asked and immediately got closer to you to put his hand on your shoulder.

“Nothing happened, okay? I’m fine.”

“Y/n, I know you’re not.”

You hesitated.

“It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is!”

Tom paused. He could see tears forming in your eyes again. You’d always been a very private person, but Tom couldn’t stand to see you unhappy like this.

“Is someone writing something mean about you?” Tom asked quietly, close enough so you could hear it. At his words, you broke eye contact and let another tear fall.

“Y/n.. You can’t let these things get to you,” Tom mumbled, and you immediately pulled away from him in embarrassment. It was stupid.

“I told you it was stupid,” you sniffled, looking out the plane window. Tom’s mind was racing, trying to think of the best way to console you.

“It’s not stupid, it’s just hard to get used to the hate comments. I know that, I’ve been there!”

“It’s not-..” you sighed, making the final decision to just tell him, “It’s not about hate comments. There are these two girls at my school. They just really like to bully me for some reason. They’ve made a page about me,” you cheeks were burning. Finally, Tom understood. He now felt an anger arising within him.

“What have they been doing?” he asked, and the switch in his attitude was clear. He was trying to sound sympathetic, when in reality he was pissed. You saw it too, his jaw clenched and fists gripping the arm rests.

“Don’t worry about it, Tom. I can deal with it,” you words made him. It took every ounce of self control within him to not yell out in frustration.

“Clearly not, Y/n. Clearly you can’t. It hurts me when you’re sad, it’s not just something I can ignore. You’re my little sister, N/n. Just tell me what they’ve been doing.. Please,” his hiss turned into a plead, one hand gripping the side of your face, the other on your upper arm.

“They’ve just been calling me names and.. I don’t know some stupid pranks and mean words online. And then once..” you trailed off, and Tom searched your eyes intently. You had to tell him, you knew. “They.. I guess they.. Hit me once.”

“They- They hit you?” Tom was outraged, pulling away from you, to see you better.

“I mean- yeah, they.. They both hit me.. A lot.”

Tom was seething. You felt lighter though, as the words escaped you, like a burden was lifted from your shoulders. Tom gripped your hand with both his, squeezing it.

“God, Y/n. I don’t know what to say. This isn’t stupid. This is serious! You can’t hide these things, they’ll hurt you. Promise me you won’t hide it again,” you watched him hold your hand into his chest, as he spoke. You knew he was right. And I guess it was serious. It made you feel better than Tom didn’t brush off your problems like you had thought he would.

“I promise,” you nodded. Tom brought you into a hug. You could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Alright, now if you give me their names, I’m gonna call the school and get them expelled. You won’t be seeing them again. And if they try to bother you online, we’ll send the fans after them” he spoke into your hair. You giggled at the thought.

You gave Tom their names, and sure enough they were expelled. They did try to bother you online, but this time you told Tom, and just one instagram story was enough to send thousands of angry fans over there. The account was taken down after just a couple of hours. Tom kept an eye on you since then, but after that you told him when you were sad. Because you knew nothing good came out of hiding it. Tom truly was like your protective brother, and he would never stop that. You guys had something truly special.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @ireadfanficforfun

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman cast x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers x teen!reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #tom holland x teen!reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader

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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

One Photo → Mark Lee [9] [END]

↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳ Warning: angst if you squint

↳ Word count: 2,857

↳ Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | You Are Here!

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TUESDAY - 9

Day by day, things got steadily worse. Your body was constantly giving out, you had trouble breathing, and whenever you ate something, you always managed to throw it back up. The weight loss and iron deficiency you had developed after the last periods you’ve had led to four clinic visits and one hospital scare. You tried to play it off to your boss, but enough was enough and you knew you were going to be let go.

It took a lot of thinking, but you had finally decided to do what you had to. So, there you stood, taping the last box closed. You had sold your final possession besides your bed and your oldest camera, handing the sealed box to the buyer who had been standing in your kitchen. “Thank you,” he said, smiling gently at you. “This is gonna make my daughter really happy. I…” he cleared his throat awkwardly; “I hope that you get better soon.”

You nodded, holding your breath for a moment to avoid coughing in his direction. “Of course. I hope she uses that camera well, it helped me a lot when I started college.”

After he left, you looked over the bare-boned atmosphere of your apartment. Your coffee table was gone, your bookshelf, your easel. Your little television, table and chair, and nearly all of your glassware and cutlery had been sold as well. Walking into your room, the only things that were left were your tote of movies with all of Mark’s cards and letters tucked inside, and a backpack with a second outfit, toiletries and your camera stuffed in it. Even your bed was stripped just to the bottom sheet, the summer hot enough and your fever high enough that you didn’t need blankets anyway. Today was finally the day you had finally procured enough money for a plane ticket, a one-way trip that hopefully would relieve the pain in your heart and the crushing pressure in your head.

While you lay in your bed, waiting for the night to pass, your phone, one of the last things you had to keep with you, buzzed. Rhiannon: How are you doing

You: I can never tell anymore

Rhiannon: Johnny, Hyuckie and I are going to meet you at the airport tomorrow. Mark’s getting pretty bad

Worry filled your chest, and you frowned at your screen.

You: Is he going to be okay? Rhiannon: we don’t know. He’s completely bedridden, I just hope that you don’t end up that way before your flight. I’m worried that they might not even let you on.

You: I have to try

Rhiannon: I know…

Rhiannon: I’ll see you soon, okay? I miss you

You: I miss you too.

At this point, getting onto your flight was the least of your worries. After putting down your phone, you mad managed to get about ten minutes of rest before you had to run to your bathroom to throw up the measly dinner you had put together with the small food budget you had set for yourself. Once you were sure your stomach had settled, you went back into your backpack and pulled out your toothbrush, returning to the bathroom to clean out your mouth.

Looking into the mirror above your sink, you noticed how bad you had really gotten. Your cheeks were hollow, your skin pale and underneath your sunken eyes were the works dark circles you’ve ever had. You brushed as slowly as you could, hoping that you wouldn’t start to feel nauseous again. After spitting and rinsing out the sink, you decided that maybe it would be better to just get up and go to the airport now.

You left your house key for the landlord on your kitchen counter with a note about where the spare was, stepping outside and locking the house with the spare, hiding it under your doormat before heading toward the elevator and beginning your journey.

Occasionally you’d lose your footing, your balance off and your legs weak. You would grab onto the wall to steady yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out. About an hour of subway and streetcar riding, you finally made it to the airport. It was chilling to see so many eyes on you. You knew that coming in this condition would get you multiple looks and passing disgusted faces, but you felt like you were passed feeling embarrassed. The teller looked at you sympathetically when you asked for the Delta non-stop flight to Incheon.

“Soulmate?” She asked, tilting her head curiously when you slid her your ID and your debit card, all of the money you had from selling your things on it. Just enough to pay for your ticket.

“Yeah. Almost two years since I’ve seen him.” “My God,” she gasped, typing away on her keyboard. “It’s good you’re going now, I could never survive being away from my soulmate for that long. I was away from mine for a month when he was on a business trip and I was hospitalized!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you rasp, watching her smile sadly in your direction. “I hope things go well for you. Have a safe flight to South Korea.” She slid your ticket, debit card, ID and itinerary over her desk, watching you slowly reach out to grab it. “Get lots of rest when you land.” “Thank you, I’ll try.” Feeling a little more pleasant after being wished well, you continued on your way. Through customs, the security check and the passport check, you did your best to keep back any coughing and the creeping feeling of nausea that was beginning to overwhelm you. Finally, you arrived in the boarding area, taking a seat with your bag on the floor, in between your knees. It was still a while before your plane would even arrive, so you plugged in your phone and decided to watch a movie.

Night crept over the lounge, the windows displaying a slowly setting sun. After your movie ended you kept yourself occupied by watching the planes come and go until the tarmac was lit up with guiding lights that looked like stars.

‘Flight from Toronto to Incheon nonstop now boarding.’

Finally.

You stumbled along and waited in your line, looking at your seat number. It was near the back of the plane, which would be loud, but at least it was close to the bathroom. The boarding attendant gave you a look with squinted eyes, but he still scanned your ticket, looked at your passport and let you go through.

Down the hallway, your legs gave out and your body clattered to the floor. “Hey, are you alright!?” Someone behind you came running up, gently taking your arm and helping you off the floor. “Jeez, you just toppled over!” She observed you, holding you steady. “You’re nothing but skin and bones…” “Sorry,” you apologize, hoping that you’d stay upright when she let your arm go. “I haven’t been doing the best lately.” “That’s okay,” she assured you. “Don’t you worry one bit.” Cautiously, she began walking with you, holding out her hands as if she was expecting you to fall again. “Why are you here and not at home, resting?”

“I, well... this is soulmate sickness,” you explain cautiously. “My soulmate is doing worse than I am, and I decided to sell everything I own to buy a one-way ticket. I’m going to see him.”

“Man,” she breathed, “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

You let out a small, hollow laugh. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” “What seat are you?” “39-A.”

“Oh,” she smiled at you, just as the plane entrance was coming into view. “I’m 39-B! I’ll help you put your backpack up, okay?”

“Thank you,”

She smiled at you. “My pleasure.”

The hostess greeted you both when your new friend helped you board, watching with stunned eyes as you passed her. You both made your way to the back of the plane. You slipped off your backpack and she put both hers and your carry on into the compartment above you. “Do you want the window seat, or will that make you nauseous?” She asked, tilting her head to the side with an empathetic smile. “Would you be okay with switching? I’m supposed to have the window, but..”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine with it! Here, sit down with me.” Once you both were seated, she held your hand. “So, what’s your name?”

“It’s (Y/N),” you answer slowly, giving her a smile when you feel her hand take yours. It had been so long since someone had given you any physical affection. “I’m Nia,” she grinned. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

After the plane took off, Nia did everything she could for you. She made sure you had a blanket, water, and she even had wipes in her purse that she kept on your forehead to make sure your fever stayed down. Nia talked with you about her boyfriend, showing you part of her scar that was on the back of her neck. She told the story about the last time she was in Korea, lost and out of her depth. Wonseo, her soulmate, had bumped into her, not paying enough attention to avoid her when she stopped to try and read a street sign. She, in turn, had a scar on her back and on her scalp, while his, funnily enough, was on the top part of his chest and his nose.

When you told her about meeting Mark and your own scar, her happy grin only seemed to grow wider. “I’m a fan,” she admitted, “and I’m guessing you haven’t been keeping up with media because before he stopped his activities, he started wearing that Star Wars sweater everywhere. Everyone knew it was from you since the first time he ever had it with him was in Pearson two years ago. I knew I recognized you, but dang, girl. You look terrible compared to then.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I tend to stay away from it all now, it just stresses me out.” She nodded understandingly. “Have you thought about the Gold Ceremony? Wonseo and I are actually in the process of planning ours, and I’m on my way home from meeting a bridesmaid that still lives in Canada.”

“I haven’t really thought about that yet,” you answer honestly. “It’s all so nerve-wracking, don’t you think?”

Nia shrugged. “I suppose your situation is a little different from everyone else’s, so I understand the aversion. I love the romance of it all, you know? Gold coating your scars so that everyone can see it as a sign of your commitment? Ah, it’s so exciting!”

“Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to ask him,” you say quietly, smiling at Nia.

“Only if you’re comfortable, girl. Having your entire chest exposed to everyone around you may be a little weird even if you are getting married, y’know?”

You chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.”

You kept little conversations going, occasionally stopping to take small naps. The two of you also exchanged numbers, and you felt happy that you had made a new friend. Eventually, daylight began to peek through the windows of the plane, signalling the time change and that you would soon arrive in Korea.

Truthfully, no matter what Nia did for you, you only felt worse. You smiled and held back your nausea, but you could feel that as every moment passed, you declined further and further into your sickness. When the flight landed, you were happy that the sense of vertigo was gone, but you weren’t sure how long you would last without passing out. “Want me to help you through customs?” Nia asked once the seatbelt sign was turned off. She helped you stand, taking down your backpack for you and securing it on your shoulders. “I don’t want to be a burden on you,” you said quickly, grasping the seats as you made your way up to exit the plane.

“You’re far from that,” Nia reassured. “I won’t be able to stay with you the whole time, I just want to make sure that you make it to the people waiting for you okay. You said three of your friends were coming to meet you?” “Yeah,” you nod, thanking the hostess quietly as you pass her. “Thank you, Nia.” “Anything for a friend.” Slowly but surely, Nia helped you through the check-in and declaration stations, leading you through each step. Once you both got your passports checked, she turned and smiled at you. “I have to go get my suitcase now. Be safe and keep in touch, okay?” Nia hugged you ever so gently, before waving and taking her lead in the opposite direction you were to go, making her way to grab her suitcase off the conveyer.

“See you,” you called behind her, steeling your nerve. You could make it. While you could barely read the directions with your now blurring vision, you managed to make it to the meeting area. Just barely in your line of sight were Rhiannon, Donghyuck and Johnny, holding up a rainbow sign with your name on it. You felt your chest flare-up, and if it was due to your sickness or your happiness you couldn’t tell, but you still began making your way toward them, smiling and waving.

That was until your body finally gave in. ~ “(Y/N)!” Rhiannon immediately dropped the sign and made a beeline for you as you toppled to the ground, Johnny and Donghyuck not far behind. She grit her teeth, doing her best to turn you over and hold you.

Donghyuck reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, ready to call an emergency number if Rhiannon couldn’t determine that you were breathing. He sighed with relief, luckily the airport was mostly empty and nobody would crowd you. “Is she okay?” Johnny knelt down beside her, looking on with worry. Rhiannon quickly checked your pulse and held her hand above your mouth. “Seems like she just passed out, she’s still breathing.” She breathed a sigh of relief, placing a hand over her chest.

Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. “We should get her home, then. I’ll carry her, you grab her backpack.”

Rhiannon nodded and slowly took your backpack off while Johnny picked you up. “Let’s go.”

Everyone was waiting in the living room for Johnny and Rhiannon to return with you, after hearing them explain what happened when Taeyong called to check-in. They knew they couldn’t tell Mark about what happened since his condition was not much better. He was in his room, nearly unaware of everyone sitting and waiting with bated breath. Yuta and Jungwoo stood up quickly when the door handle turned and opened, revealing Rhiannon and Donghuck. Johnny followed in close behind, you in his arms, barely conscious.

“Hi, everyone,” you rasped, smiling as best you could, with lidded eyes.

“(Y/N),” Doyoung stood. “We’ve all missed you.”

“Yeah,” Jungwoo agreed. “We’re glad you’re home.”

“Thank you,” your words were soft, laboured. “Where’s Mark?” You looked up at Johnny tiredly. Johnny smiled gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take you to him. Let’s go.”

You did your best to stay awake, suddenly beginning to feel a little better. Soon you both came across a door, the door slightly ajar. Johnny pushed it open gently with his foot.

“Guess who’s here?” He called into the room, and as soon as you lay eyes on Mark, you felt both simultaneously happy and guilty. Mark was skin and bones like you were, hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He was shivering as he struggled to sit up, large and thick blankets slowly shifting as he moved. “(Y/N),” he said, his lips forming the most endearing smile. “(Y/N), you’re here,”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Johnny carried you to Mark’s bed, gently placing you down next to him in the spot where he had just barely pulled back the blankets. You had your head laying on Mark’s chest as soon as Johnny put you down, Mark’s arm immediately wrapping around you. You both breathed in a deep sigh of relief, and you felt your nose beginning to clear up. “You could probably use some water. I’ll be back.” Johnny quietly left the room, and as soon as the door shut, you couldn’t think of anything to say.

You felt life coming back to you, but the long flight and the months of hardship still weighed heavy on you. You knew that this was your condition because you were struggling, and you had just sacrificed everything to be here. Now, on top of being sick, you were dirt poor. But, at least you were with your soulmate, and at least you were with all of your friends. At least you finally felt like you weren’t dying. “You can sleep,” you hear Mark whisper as he moved his other arm to touch your face. “I can tell you’re tired.”

You smiled weakly. “Okay, as long as you sleep too.” Mark laughed softly. “Agreed.”

Not long after, the door creaked open once again. Johnny had come back with a glass of water, followed by Rhiannon. Johnny placed the glass of water on the nightstand next to your bed, while Rhiannon watched you and Mark sleep for a moment, holding the small framed photo in her hands, the one that started it all. She placed it next to the glass of water, adjusting it so you would see it when you woke up.

“Sleep well.”

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct127 #nctu #nct scenarios #nct imagines #reader insert #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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shattered-catalyst · 4 years ago

Text

Intro to OCD for the RPC part 1/?

This is a balmy 6 page document on the VERY BASICS of OCD by a person who has had OCD for over 15 years and knows their shit.

If you want to write a character who has OCD this series is going to be a good starting point. If you dont know much about OCD I encourage you to read it so you can be an ally to those of us who have the disorder.

OCD is made into a cultural joke and when there isnt the ‘Obsessive Cat disorder’ bullshit its an angst off with other people and their non-ocd intrusive thoughts. Its different. Do your research and be an ally.

This will cover the very very basics. The next post will look into subtypes of OCD and how those are experienced.

Whomst can write it?

Literally anyone as long as you

● Do so respectfully and not make a mockery of the disorder and the harm it causes in peoples lives

● Dont make OCD the characters single thing or boil them down to it entirely ● Do respect the experiences and opinions of muns who have the disorder if they have concerns about your portrayal.

● Dont milk it for angst - unless you have OCD in which case release some of your angst.

● Dont try and say you know what intrusive thoughts are because they have *insert any other neuro a-typical thing here*

● Dont police how Muns who have OCD choose to portray it. Its our experience not yours. I like to write out my characters OCD as I experience OCD so my experiences are different from other muns. OCD is very diverse in its effects but always ask if you arent sure.

. What isnt OCD?

● Cleanliness or organization- OCD is NEVER an adjective.

● Planning/ Hypervigilance/Organized/Methodical

● Turning light switches on and off, unplugging things (find out more on later time)

● “I have to organize my pencils otherwise it bothers me” “ I have to make sure my mattress is straight” “ my nails have to be the same length” are all typical responses from people WHO DO NOT have OCD.

● Making sure objects are lined up neatly

● Having things go in a particular order like the letters CDO as the joke goes

● Really loving Cats, Corgis, or Christmas; if you own any of these items i urge you to reflect and also send me 10$ (jk but do reflect)

The Barest minimum

Google OCD this will be an advanced version of OCD. This will be long but if you want to be aware of others or want to write the character you will read it.

OCD is made of Obsessions. Triggers. Anxiety, Compulsions/Rituals.

1. Obsessions are the thoughts

2. Triggers are the object/person/image/situation/smell ETC

3. The Anxiety occurs is at uncomfortable levels to the point of panic or anxiety attacks

4. Compulsions or Rituals are performed

*There is a variant of OCD called Pure O. In this individuals have the obsessions triggers and anxiety but there is NO compulsion or ritual. This is still valid OCD.

Obsessions are the precursors to the flawed unwanted and harmful intrusive thoughts:

Im going to use you so you really understand this because its important.If you misunderstand this you are basically encouraging a mental health condition and dont get a sticker for reading this far.

First check out this link as it has ALL the subtypes and examples.

Obsessions can be hidden by the intrusive thought and teasing them out can be difficult to do if you have the disorder because well its a disorder okay thats why. It boils down to ‘i could harm someone’ ‘i could cause harm’ ‘ i may have accidentally harmed ___’ ‘ i may accidentally harm’ etc

This is the flawed powerful belief that predate the Intrusive Thought.

Intrusive thoughts appear in every brain on earth. They are not special or unusual however intrusive thoughts with OCD get stuck in the brain- meaning they stay there no matter what you do. So yes , they are different from intrusive thoughts in other conditions.

The thing about OCD is that it latches on to what you hold dear; it may be you are a caring person and love children and animals- your OCD would give you intrusive violent or sexual thoughts or images. These are horrible to experience. They are not welcome nor appreciated and there is no benefit or positive side to having them.

If say social justice is something you hold dear your ocd may take the form of intrusive thoughts of slurs, jokes, visuals etc. These are horrible to experience and lead to high levels of anxiety and are not positive nor beneficial to have in any way shape or form.

Maybe you would not harm someone or you value others; your OCD may present as graphic intrusive images or thoughts around poisoning, stabbing,accidental..ly murdering (yeah you read that right), hitting, insulting etc someone else

I must emphasize this because it is critical that people understand POCD: for the sake of those of us who have OCD read this until its burned into your brain.

This is the fucked up awful Obsessive thought that you are/were/ or could be sexually attracted to children. This is NOT pedophilia. People kill themselves over this because they are afraid that these intrusive thoughts are true. People isolate themselves and dont have families out of fear of harming a child. People take work in different fields or avoid areas with children out of the absolute terror their obsessive thoughts could be true. This is NOT pedophilia. There is NO attraction present.

Most people who experience POCD intrusive thoughts would rather punch a sharknado than even THINK of hurting a kid in any way shape or form. That is why the OCD does its thing it is like having an abusive brain.

Again for clarity's sake

If you value social justice -> the intrusive thoughts violate social justice stuff

If you value animals -> intrusive thoughts come up with harming animals

If you care about the protection and safety of children -> POCD

Triggers would be the situation, scenario, object, person,creature, context etc that is related to the Obsession. It can be literally anything.

What follows is a hell of a lot of anxiety that can range anywhere from discomfort to full on panic attacks.

Everyone has different intrusive thoughts and everyone experiences different amounts of distress upon being triggered.

● As a side bar. Do not ever try and expose someone to their triggers or write about a character being exposed to their triggers as a way to help ‘cure them’ or ‘expose them’ to ANYTHING. What you are doing is literally taking someone with a mental illness and shoving them into a breakdown and thats a piece of shit move. Exposure therapy does exist and is done by professionals TRAINED in ERP. My parents did this a lot and I am positive I am not alone in that experience.

Compulsions or Rituals: Now you may be saying ‘hey i know what those are’ yeah dude me too and I have had ocd for over 15 years and trained in mental health for 7 and guess what. They teach ya wrong.

Compulsions or ‘rituals’ are any behavior done to alleviate the anxiety from the intrusive thought and trigger object.

This can be as passive as ‘i am leaving the room’ ‘ i am checking my body sensations’ ‘ i am trying SO HARD TO HEAR MY HEARTBEAT’ .

It can also be repeating the same thing over and over. To illustrate this I once mentally chanted the same song lyric line on a 3 hour plane ride because otherwise we were all going to die. I took one for the whole team.

It can be somatic things like counting your heart beats, focusing on your breathing, swallowing, staring and not blinking for so many seconds.

It can be readjusting clothing until the seams fit. It can be checking god yes checking IK its a common trope but it IS a compulsion that has ruined my life and can be as passive as checking my reality or texting for proof my cat is still alive. It can also be checking yourself for assurance you wouldnt do the intrusive thought or that the intrusive thought isnt going to happen.

Compulsions are mentally painful and sometimes physically painful;

● Washing your hands with scalding water for 5+ minutes can lead to horribly dry and cracking skin to down right BURNS.

● If you do the same movement you can mess up joints and ligaments. So if you pray constantly you may have knee issues from standing and kneeling.

● If your compulsion has you doing movement against an object ie say gripping and regripping something you get callouses.

● If you compulsively exercise you may get trapped doing something above a healthy amount or say going from not working out to running a five minute mile and wiping out on a treadmill because your brain demanded it. Totally didnt do that...

● If your compulsions make you rub against any object you can get friction burns and scars.

To put this in perspective 15 years of compulsions have left my hands and finger joints a complete mess, damaged my arm tendons, friction scars on my arms that only now faded, and scars on my legs from doing too much of an activity.

Its not lmao I gotta fix these pencils its real agony and real torture.

In short compulsions and rituals are not fun they are absolutely not logical, and we know they are not logical but we are forced to do them. Thats why its a disorder.

OCD disrupts relationships with social components such as ;

Obsessively checking in with partner/friend if things are ‘okay’ (this feels horrible to do too fyi like you KNOW things are fine but you cant NOT because the anxiety is SO BAD),

Relationship OCD is a WHOLE category itself! this ties into sexuality OCD where your obsessive thoughts prey on your sexuality (regardless of your orientation), your relationship, cheating or being disloyal etc.

OCD causes significant withdrawal from others, fears of being a monster, intense guilt over intrusive thoughts, disgust with yourself over the intrusive thoughts sometimes leading to self punishment.

OCD leads to strange behavior which more often than not leads to bullying and ostracization. To exemplify this I have an intrusive thought that I have stolen something when I am inside stores, my check-check-check-check-check-recheck! of my pockets gets me store security called so often its criminal.

OCD limits activities that may expose them to triggers or influenced by intrusive thoughts ie: not being able to take the train to work or only getting off at bus stops with even numbers.

OCD impacts where they spend time, who they associate with, what jobs they take or even if they have a family or not

OCD leads to overwhelming feelings of guilt, shame, and fear over having intrusive thoughts or images that they experience which causes them to socially isolate or have difficulty in social situations.

OCD leads to Hyperfixation: like a lot of other things but thankfully it is just hyperfixation and not different from other diagnoses.

OCD leads to rigidity or structured routines: I have listened to the same CD in my car for 5 years now. Every single day. 5 Years.And Im not okay with that.

OCD impacts standards we hold ourselves to and others: its like regular perfectionism but like add on 5 extra layers of anxiety!

OCD according to NIMH statistics

1.2% Occurrence among US adults

2.3% Lifetime Prevalence among US adults

34.8% Of Adults who have OCD suffer moderate impairment to daily functioning 50.6% of Adults who have OCD suffer serious impairment to daily functioning

OCD has strong co-morbidity with the following:

Tourettes Syndrome- is a genetic friend of OCD and if you have tourettes or OCD your chances of having someone else in the family is high

ADHD

Autism

GAD

Eating Disorders

Depression - this is a big one along with low self esteem because of the intrusive thoughts

Writers like to make jokes about characters “being OCD” well now they have clinical OCD and you should consider fleshing out your character with this information just as you would any other disorder.

Batman (DC)

Riddler (?)(DC)

Domino (Marvel)

Cyclops (Marvel)

#this took a lot of emotional energy and i am now terrified

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just2bubbly · 4 years ago

Text

The Dinner!

Masterlist

Rumors and Affairs: Chapter List

// This is an update of Breaking the News..

Kai’s Persective:

“Your Majesty, are you okay?” the American President Vargas asked.

“Yeah, just Emperor Kaito would do.” he said as he had learned the hard way that the President liked to use his title of ‘Emperor’ wherever possible.

“Okay. As I was saying it’s time for dinner so we both can walk together to the dining chambers”

Kai nodded his head. President Vargas had interrupted on his comm with Cinder and he did not look ashamed about it as well. He was angry after realizing why Cinder seemed so dejected, but could he really shout at the President of the USA because of Cinder’s mistake, a big fat NO.

Cinder.

What was she thinking today? He was excited to go home now that he would finally be seeing Cinder after like 9 days 21 hours and 58 seconds-now it becomes 59 seconds. He was definitely not counting. Now he was looking forward to going home back for an entirely different reason. He had to solve this mess that was already looming on his head before he had come to England. He was trying to postpone addressing the rumors for his own sake and sanity. He was happy in his own bubble- where everyone was happy as the royal couple was expecting a child. Alas! Fantasies were not made for Emperors especially not for Kai. His life with Cinder felt like a dream but the press ruined it all the time. The first thing he would do after going to Eastern Commonwealth was put restrictions on the press.

“Emperor Kaito, are you listening?”

Kai zoned out. He should pay attention to avoid saying something wrong like Cinder.

“My apologies President, I got distracted. Could you repeat what you were saying?” he asked with a polite smile.

“Nothing much actually, I was just asking how you feel about the meeting that took place in the morning?”

“Oh, About that! I must say I agree with Queen Camilla for once. The prospect of abolition of cyborg needs of guardians is very much acceptable to the Eastern Commonwealth. It is actually done in the Commonwealth thanks to Cin-my wife you see. It would be good if the Earthen Union follows lead. ”

“I agree as well, Emperor. It seems your mind is in the Commonwealth where your dearest wife Selene is.”

“No President, I am wholly involved this conversation.” Kai replied, his ears becoming pink. Why did he have to blush and get flustered so easily, he could read Cinder cliché love letters and she would not show a sign of blushing and here he was getting all flustered at the mention of his wife.

“I was just kidding, Emperor. Remind me how far along the Empress is?”

“She is 7 months along” he said, feeling quite happy now that they had reached the dining chambers. He would be able to avoid talks with President Vargas, never his favorite one.

“Here you are Emperor Kaito and President Vargas. I would request you to take a seat so that we can commence with dinner. We were expecting your arrival.” addressed the Queen.

He and the President took their seats. His seat was adjacent to Princess Sophie, Queen Camilla’s daughter.

Feeling a bit out of his element, he avoided talking with any of the world leaders. ‘Out of his element really huh, Kai!’ he said to himself. He had been raised to be presentable at such meetings and political dinners, how could Kai be out of his element, then again when did he ever feel out of character at Rampion even when he had not been raised to have friends who were criminals for a time- being.

He could not really avoid any talk for Princess Sophie was sitting next to him, she was rather known for her talkative nature. Not only this but the sitting arrangement was awkward for Kai who had recently learned that the princess had some royalty-crush upon him. He really had no idea how to sit beside a person who might have a crush on you. Besides he was a married man, expecting his first born child.

Someone coughed a bit too loudly to seek his attention.

“Emperor Kaito, are you enjoying yourself?”

“Well, Queen Camilla I certainly am, why would you ask that?” he said evidently lying.

“No, Emperor you seemed a bit too lost in thoughts.” Kai wanted to shout at her if a man could not maintain a calm face through an idiotic and might he add unnecessary delay of dinner, but he would not to that because he was THE Emperor.

“Don’t disturb the Emperor, Camilla.” President Vargas said with a hint of mischief in his tone.

“And why would that be Vargas?” talking as if they were friends since college, they seemed to forget that a few hours earlier Camilla wanted to chop down his head.

“He was distracted with me as well. His mind is somewhere else.”

“And where would that be?” asked Africa’s Prime Minister Kamin.

“Don’t you get it Kamin, the Commonwealth.” The Governor-General Williams from Australia replied.

“Obviously, Empress Selene has stayed behind.” President Vargas said in a way of confirmation.

At this remark of the President, both Princess Sophie and Queen Camilla looked crestfallen. After the Lunar Revolution, Torin had told him about how Camilla wanted her daughter to be married to Kai, in order to form an alliance but his father never acceded and Kai had already fallen for the Queen of Luna later. He was watching the conversation going around him, royally failing to keep a straight face. Kai had become uncomfortable and it was evident that he was trying his hardest to not blush. With the ongoing talks around him and in an effort to change the topic he said, “May I know why the diplomatic dinner is used to discuss my marital life?”

“Oh! Emperor we don’t do diplomatic talks at the dinner table here in Europe but I guess it’s a common practice in the Commonwealth.” The Queen replied.

Why couldn’t she understand that he did not want to talk about his life at this dinner. Could he ask her about her plans to marry her daughter at the dinner hosted by him? NO RIGHT! The old queen could not evidently think this through.

“It appears that the Emperor is feeling uncomfortable, we should really not talk about his feelings for the Empress in such a teasing manner”, Princess Sophie came to his rescue.

“Yes, it is not diplomatic of us to make fun of the Emperor. Besides, tell me Kaito, how far along is your wife?”

If Kai would have not been used to the gossip attempts made by the Queen he would have taught her a lesson. Did she not hear what her daughter just said? Maybe he should gift her some hearing-aids for Christmas.

”She is seven months along, could not ride a plane so far in pregnancy. Hence, she could not come otherwise she would have definitely loved to attend the meets on cyborg rights”

“Cyborgs that she is.” European Prime Minister Bromstad said. He always had some sort of prejudice with Cinder and her cyborg-ness. It got on Kai’s nerves every damn time.

“Yeah, she would be better able to give suggestions regarding the changes after being a first hand victim of cyborg prejudices you see.”

The Prime Minister nodded. Kai must have been a little too outspoken and protective of Cinder against cyborg prejudice recently.

“Besides that, how are you and Empress Selene taking the news of the baby? “The Queen asked.

She was really getting on his nerves now. Was it so hard to understand that she was testing his patience and already crossed all boundaries of professionalism?

“We are very much excited to receive the child. I personally was delighted with the news.” He replied, a new sort of emotion feeling his heart and warming his soul at the mention of his child.

“Parenthood is a demanding role, Emperor”

“I know that and I am ready to accept it wholeheartedly, Queen Camilla”. He said, putting much authority in his voice. If not for his royalty status he would have told her ’Shut up, I already know that.’

“And what did the Empress think about carrying the royal heir?” she snubbed her way into his train of thoughts again.

“As I already said, she was very delighted and protective of the baby.” Why were all the world leaders suddenly so interested in their baby, as far as he could remember Queen Camilla had not even congratulated them upon the news.

“Have you revealed the gender of the baby?” Princess Sophie asked curiously.

“It’s our decision to keep it confidential till the birth of the baby.”

“And? ” asked Prime Minister Bromstad.

“And what?”

That’s when it hit him like a train. These people are world leaders and they know the world happenings. Obviously, they know about the rumors regarding Cinder and Thorne and that’s the very reason everyone especially Queen Camilla is so interested in the discussion of his baby. He felt like an idiot to not have realized this beforehand. It seems they wanted to add salt to the injury. Were they really so foolish to fall prey for such rumors? Like hell they have seen him and Cinder doing the lovey-dovey stuff from up close, he was much convinced that they were blind.

Before any of them could ask him anything, he decided to leave the dinner.

“Excuse me, but I have some important business to attend to.”

“It appears that the Emperor would enjoy the company of someone else other than us.” Well a good time without them, he certainly would.

“Very well emperor Kaito, it was an honor to receive you as our guest.” If looks could kill, everyone at the dinner would already be dead.

Nodding his head, he headed towards his room. He needed to talk with Torin at the earliest.

A/N: Needless to say, There is more!

( I also have an another Kaider fic named ‘ Nightmares’, if you like Kaider fluff you can check it out!! 🖤 )

Likes, Reblogs and Comments will be much loved! 🖤

P.S Can you suggest some baby names for Kaider child, both the gender please.

#what was she thinking #just2bubbly fics #kaider #tlc #marissa meyer #lunar chronicles #fanfic #emperor kaito #kai #linh cinder #konn torin #selene #world leaders #dinner #kai is sad #everyone's talking about cinder #breaking the #news #the dinner

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