#wait maybe I need to take EVERYTHING off of her for it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 2 days ago

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𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you find out spencer has never been to new york you decide to do everything you can to make him fall in love with the city that raised you. and maybe, just maybe, fall in love with you too.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: early seasons spencer reid x bau!female reader, reader is kinda tough, description of the case (stalking), spencer is so blind you'll want to kick him, idiots in love

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9k

𝐚/𝐧: this is a request i got from @written-in-the-stars06 ! thank you for this amazing idea <3 i hope it meets your expectations (even if only a little)

"JJ, I need your help."

The blonde woman froze in the doorway.

"Did you kill someone?" she asked after a moment. And though she seemed surprised, her voice had already adjusted to the situation, lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. As if signaling her readiness to help hide a body. A friend in crime is a friend indeed.

Or however it goes.

If your eyebrows competed in the Olympic high jump, they’d win a gold medal.

"What? How did you even…wait, is that seriously the first thing that crossed your mind when you saw me?" You watched as your friend shrugged. Her posture relaxed slightly, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward at the sight of your expression. "Anyway, never mind. Are you going to let me in, or are we just going to stand here?"

For a moment, she studied you intently before stepping aside. You’d known she would; it was exactly why you’d come to her. You crossed into her apartment with heavy, restless steps, stopping only when you reached the living room—and only then realizing you hadn’t even taken off your coat.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, you turned to face JJ, whose worry was written all over her face.

“Well? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself as you prepared to say the words out loud.

Words that felt absurd.

Words that had invaded your mind, refusing to let go.

Words you couldn’t decide whether to embrace or reject entirely.

“I’m in love.”

Silence filled the room. A soft, disbelieving snort escaped her lips, quickly morphing into loud, unabashed laughter.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not. Why? Is it really that strange for me to be in love?”

JJ snorted again, shaking her head from side to side.

“No. What’s strange is you storming into my apartment like a hurricane, nervous and… terrified, just to tell me you’re in love. Seriously, I thought something was wrong!”

“Because something is wrong,” you hissed through clenched teeth.

You weren’t angry—not at JJ, not at yourself, not at anyone. It was more… the weight of it all, the unfamiliar feelings that left you overwhelmed, spilling out in sudden bursts of frustration.

Your romantic life up until now had always existed on the fringes of your attention. Present, but without all the…symptoms. The dry throat whenever they were around, the inability to get them out of your head.

It all felt like something out of a sugar-coated entry in a teenager’s pink diary, not the mind of a grown woman.

“I’ll make you some tea,” JJ offered suddenly. The worry that had been etched on her face earlier was completely gone, replaced by genuine amusement at your behavior, visible in the soft smile tugging at her lips. “You’ll tell me everything. But now, take off that coat before you overheat…”

True to her word, fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the couch with steaming mugs of tea in your hands.

While JJ had been in the kitchen preparing it, doubts began to creep in. Was it really a good idea to tell anyone about this? About your…infatuation?

Even though you were friends, the whole thing made you feel a little pathetic.

“So…” she began after a long moment of silence. “Are you going to say anything?”

You couldn’t find the right words. Instead of answering, you took a big sip of hot tea and winced as it burned your throat.

“Okay,” JJ sighed, setting her mug down on the table and folding her arms across her chest. “If you’re not going to, let me just guess.”

“Since when are you a psychic?”

“Not a psychic. Just someone who spends most of her life around profilers. That should be enough to figure out why my friend is acting so weird about a simple crush.”

“Can we please not call it a crush?”

“Love interest. Better?” You muttered not really but she completely ignored it and continued. “Let’s start with the fact that you came here. To me. Considering how private you are, it must mean you’re totally losing it over this. You seem confused, like you don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure whether they feel the same, so you don’t know what to do. And it doesn’t help that you’ve never had to chase anyone before. You’ve always been the one that guys chased after, not the other way around. And…” she hesitated, taking a breath. “The fact that you seem embarrassed, plus how much you work, leaving no time for dating, leads me to think… it’s probably someone from our team.”

With every sentence that left her lips, your hands tightened more around the mug. When she fell silent, your knuckles turned completely white. Everything she said was true.

"What should I do?" you asked quietly.

"Well, it would definitely be easier for me to advise you if you tell me who it’s about."

Instinctively, you shook your head. You didn’t want to reveal your feelings that much. Surprisingly, you weren’t worried that she would figure it out. After all, it wasn’t that obvious...

"Is it Spencer?"

"Fuck, is it really that obvious?" you blurted out in panic. If she could notice, who else could? The rest of the team? Reid himself?

JJ made a sound somewhere between a cough and a choked laugh.

"Actually, I was just going to randomly list all the options one by one," she said, then let out a short sigh, raising her eyebrows. "You surprised me a little. I mean, it's not that I think you two don’t fit together..."

You knew exactly what she meant. Your specialty at work was kidnappings, often handling negotiations and providing detailed instructions to the families of victims. You had learned to project an aura of calm control, and more often than not, you came across as stiff in the eyes of others. Something that had been pointed out to you multiple times in life, whether in jest or not. Reid, in many ways, was your complete opposite. While you surrounded yourself with a shield of silence due to stress, his mouth never seemed to stop. While you marched forward with apparent indifference, he seemed genuinely interested in everything happening around him, every tiny process on this planet. And maybe that was what fascinated you most about him? Or perhaps it was more about his extraordinary mind, knowing the answer to every question that ever drifted through your thoughts? Or how effortlessly he could make you laugh? Or maybe it was the ease with which you could gently tug at the edge of that serious mask, always settled upon your face, and lift it just enough to let a certain lightness slip inside? To breathe?

"You should just invite him somewhere," JJ snapped you out of your thoughts.

"I tried," you said, wincing slightly at the memory of that failed attempt. Well, not entirely failed...

"Are you talking about how you asked in the office, in front of everyone, if anyone would like to go to the movies with you on Friday, and almost everyone volunteered?" she asked, amused. "That's not how you ask someone out on a date!"

"What else was I supposed to do? Walk up and ask if he wants to go to the movies with me?"

JJ blinked.

"Yes? Exactly like that? I mean, that’s how it usually goes. I don’t know what’s so weird about it for you."

"I’m just not made for this," you blurted out, pressing your lips together. "I can’t stand the thought that he might say no, because maybe he’s not interested in me. Not like I am in him."

"No offense, but you're such a hopeless case," she sighed heavily. "In that case, you need to find out. Invite him somewhere, not necessarily on a date, just a casual hangout. Spend some time together and you'll find out if he likes you."

"What if he doesn't?"

"What if he does?"

After a moment of silence, you managed to smile weakly.

"Maybe you're right," you said, emphasizing the first word. And before saying anything else, you nodded, as if giving yourself courage. "I'll give it a try."

Well, you didn’t get a chance to put that plan into motion.

Work didn’t slow down for even a moment, throwing you back onto the jet with your team, deep in discussion about everything uncovered so far regarding the unsub and the victims. Hardly the right time to ask someone on a date.

As usual, the case file commanded your full attention, isolating you from the buzz of conversation around you. You always needed a moment to absorb and analyze the details on your own. The voices of your teammates reached your ears faintly, their words blending into background noise—until one particular sentence jolted your brain awake, cutting through like a baseball slicing the air.

"You’ve never been to New York?" you asked, directing the question to Spencer, seated beside you, shoulder to shoulder.

All eyes turned to him. Startled by the attention, he gave a small shrug and absently picked up the deck of cards from the table, the ones you’d been playing with before the discussion began.

“We’ve never had a case there before,” he admitted simply.

You closed the folder, and the slight breeze it caused swept a few cards off the table from the game you’d been playing earlier.

“Why am I only now finding out that you’ve never, ever, ever been to New York?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. He furrowed his brows, clearly surprised by your emotional reaction.

“I grew up there,” you added.

“And why am I only now finding out that you grew up in New York?” he mimicked your earlier tone. Rolling your eyes, you tried to swat him with the folder, but he deftly dodged it.

“Seriously though, you never told me,” he said.

“Don’t worry, man,” Morgan chimed in from across the table. “She never told me, either. In fact, I’d bet she never told any of us.”

You raised your hands in a defensive gesture.

“None of you ever asked.”

"Does that bother you?" Reid asked, his gaze fixed on you, intense and unwavering. A strand of his slightly too-long hair had slipped out from behind his ear. You had the sudden urge to reach out, tuck it back where it belonged, away from his line of sight. "That I’ve never been there?"

"Of course not," you assured him with a quick huff of laughter. "You just have a lot—and I mean a lot—to catch up on."

"If only I knew someone who knew the city well," he sighed dramatically. "Someone who, for example, grew up there and kept that fact a secret for as long as we know each other. Someone who could show me around..."

"You’d want me to show you around?" The words escaped your mouth a little too quickly, a little too eagerly. Your mind flashed back to your conversation with JJ, to her suggestion that you should invite him somewhere. You’d been too nervous to ask outright, but this? Showing him around the city was a perfect excuse to spend time together!

You felt like an evil mastermind rubbing your hands together in triumph over a new invention that could turn half of humanity into rubber ducks. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to mask the disproportionate excitement now threatening to take over your face.

"I mean, if we had the time. Who knows how demanding this case might end up being."

"Right," he admitted. Some flicker of emotion crossed his face—a flash of something unplaceable. Could it have been a disappointment?

He cleared his throat, a soft, tentative smile tugging at his lips. "But if it turns out we do have time... I’d be very happy if you’d show me a few places."

You couldn’t hold back any longer and allowed yourself a brief smile.

“But just so we’re clear,” you began after a moment, your tone carrying a seriousness that didn’t quite match the expression on your face. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. Just no one ever asked me!”

Spencer let out a small snort at that.

"You know, I think you're the type of person who could go over a decade without revealing your name just because no one bothered to ask..."

“Are you done with discussing your secrets? Could we get back to focusing on the case?” Hotch’s voice suddenly cut in, sharp and calm, as he glanced at the two of you over the top of his file.

In perfect unison, you both turned toward him, sitting straighter than ever. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Reid’s gaze for one more fleeting moment.

He wanted you to show him around.

Of course, that didn’t automatically mean he liked you. But it felt like it brought you a step closer to figuring out if there was even the smallest, most microscopic chance that he might feel the same way.

That hopeful thought was quickly chased by doubts—what if he didn’t?

You knew such thoughts would haunt you, tormenting and humiliating you in the quiet moments you were alone with yourself. So, you resolved not to dwell on them for the duration of your time in New York. Instead, you would focus on one thing —making him fall in love with the city where you’d grown up, the city that still held your heart even years after you’d left.

The discussion about the case had ended, but despite that, you continued to carefully examine the files. Well, not exactly them. On the back of the last page, a blank piece of paper, you started writing with the pen you had pulled out of your jacket pocket all the places you could take Spencer. You drifted through memories, trying to recall those places you had visited with your parents, the ones you had gone to with friends after school, the places you were taken on dates...

You crossed them all out. You doubted a sandwich bar would impress him. You didn’t know how many chances you’d have to go anywhere, so you had to aim for something really special. Maybe something that fit more with his interests. A museum? Or something more characteristic of the neighborhood where you’d be staying. A walk on the Brooklyn Bridge?

You felt someone’s gaze on you. You snapped the folder shut as if you had been caught doing something and saw Morgan staring at you with a slightly mocking smile on his lips.

"If you’re playing a tour guide, maybe you’d like to show me around too?" he asked.

You leaned slightly over the table, your face expressionless.

"I’m sure if you ask Garcia nicely, she’ll find you a guide online. At a good price."

"And here she is. The Ice Queen back in shape. Tell me, how’s it that just fifteen minutes ago you were acting completely differently?"

Amused, he shook his head, leaving you with the unsettling thought that maybe it really was that obvious.

“Alright. I’m a serial killer and a rapist. I stalk my victims by placing cameras in their apartment. Where do I hide them to get a good view of everything, but at the same time, make sure they're not noticed?”

"Reid, I’m begging you, never say something like that out loud again."

You and Spencer had been sent to the apartment of one of, unfortunately, many victims. All of them had been attacked in their own homes, with no visible signs of forced entry. That was the first puzzling element of this case. The second were the emails Garcia had found in each of the women’s inboxes. Emails suggesting they had been watched for a long time.

You made my favorite pasta for dinner. You should wear the red dress, sweetheart. Actually, who are you planning to meet?

The very thought of someone watching you in your own home sent a shiver down your spine.

“Apologies,” he muttered. “But I’m not under arrest, am I?”

“Who knows? It’d make for some interesting headlines. Or for the title of a true-crime documentary about you. FBI Agent on a Dark Path of Crime…”

“It’s Doctor.”

“My eternal apologies. Does mistaking your title also come with a sentence?”

“Well, we probably wouldn’t be sharing a cell, but maybe we’d run into each other in the cafeteria a few times.”

"I can't wait." You wandered around the apartment, peeking into every spot that came to mind. Since your back was turned to him, he couldn’t see the corners of your mouth curling upward. “You check the bathroom, alright? I don’t even want to imagine where that creep might have hidden a camera. I’ll be terrified to shower in my own place.”

Spencer gave a mock salute, as if you’d just given him an order. Well, in your tone, even polite requests rarely left room for refusal. But before he disappeared into the small bathroom with green-tiled walls, he paused for a moment, his fingers brushing the doorframe.

“That was a joke, right?” he asked, his voice shifting from light to soft and slightly concerned.

You turned toward him, arms crossed over your chest, not entirely sure what he meant.

“I mean…” he started, briefly scratching his forehead. “I just hope you’re not getting too involved in this case. I mean, you are, but not to the point where… where you’re scared afterward. Of being home alone. Taking a shower or…Does that even make sense?”

"That’s..." you began, trying your hardest not to say that’s sweet. The hint of concern that had flickered across his face, present in the way his eyes lingered on you. The fact that your offhand comment had moved him enough to bring it up at all. “Yeah, that does make sense. You know, considering all these women were my age and lived alone, just like me, it does feel a little personal. But don’t worry, I won’t let it stop me from maintaining proper hygiene.”

You tried to steer the conversation away from the unexpected seriousness, to shake off the weight that had suddenly settled over it. Well, you didn’t quite succeed. Spencer didn’t look particularly convinced—or amused. He gave a slight nod, barely noticeable and likely unconscious.

“I just wanted to make sure. That it’s not getting to you. Not… too much,” he clarified. His words grew tangled again. He dropped his gaze to the doorframe, as if contemplating whether to knock his forehead against it. “I’ll check the bathroom.”

You had spent far too long staring at the door behind which he had disappeared. Only shaking your head helped you force yourself to return to work. The victim's apartment wasn't huge; the living room, kitchen, and bedroom were all part of one room. You stopped by the kitchen area, where a large bowl on the counter still contained fresh fruit. Right next to it lay the apartment key, and although you should have been looking for cameras, you hesitantly picked it up. There was no keychain attached to it, nor was it part of a set of several other keys, as people usually did to keep from losing them. A number of disordered conclusions and theories crossed your mind, even though it was just a key, not a significant piece of evidence or something that shouldn't be there. Maybe the apartment's owner had lost the keys not long ago and had had one copied just before her disappearance, which would explain the lack of wear on it.

That lost set might have ended up in the wrong hands. Or it might not have been lost at all, but stolen.

Absentmindedly, you turned it in your hands, your gaze wandering across your surroundings. A very small space, with a real brick wall on one side and a shelf of dishes above the sink. You knew that the camera had to be somewhere in here, after all, one of the emails had referred to a meal cooked by the victim. Eventually, you stopped at a green plant on the shelf, just beside a stack of clean plates. It was artificial, meaning the victim didn't need to water it, which meant it probably hadn't been paid much attention to, and that meant it was a good hiding spot for a hidden camera.

You parted the leaves and took the small black device in your hand.

Instead of calling Spencer, who was still in the bathroom, you tilted your head back and with a sigh, headed toward the balcony doors, feeling a slight ringing in your ears. It was awful. The very thought of being watched in your own apartment, a place where you should feel safest, for an unknown amount of time.

You leaned against the black railing of the small balcony, which was probably there only because of the fire escape stairs running along the entire building. You just needed to breathe in some fresh air, spend literally a minute outside, but as soon as you looked ahead, that minute started turning into minutes.

After you arrived in New York, you immediately got to work on the case; there had been no time for nostalgic sighs over familiar streets.

You tore your gaze away from them only when someone’s silhouette appeared beside you, turned sideways to face you.

“Two cameras in the bathroom,” Spencer announced. As per your earlier request, he didn’t say exactly where they were placed, and after his words, a moment of silence fell.

You tried your hardest to ensure that no grimace passed across your face. You considered it unprofessional, getting too emotionally involved in the investigation, imagining yourself in the victim's place. But apparently, it even happened to the best of them.

“You really value your privacy, don’t you?”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, stopping yourself from rolling them.

"Are you still dwelling on what I said earlier? I'm fine, Spencer."

"I’m only dwelling on what I’ve noticed a long time ago," he said, ignoring your dismissive response. "Well, and also making sure you’re okay. But what I really mean is that you don’t talk much about yourself. I only just found out today that you grew up here. I’m not saying this in a bad way, I get that you might not want to tell me everything about yourself…"

"It’s not about you," you interrupted him, finally turning so you were fully facing him. You once again took note that the balcony was really small. You realized how close you were standing. The closeness that made honesty a bit more necessary. The closeness that made you swallow more often from the dryness in your throat. You cleared your throat, wanting to clarify your somewhat vague words. "I mean, it’s not like I have a problem telling you about me, it’s just… I don’t know, I’ve always been like this. I never really know what’s worth sharing and what’s not. I’ve always been better at listening to what others have to say."

Reid listened to your words with understanding written on his face. You had the feeling that he had become a little bit lighter. He glanced briefly at the railing, and when he looked back at you, he squinted against the sunlight that was streaming onto the balcony.

"I was a bit worried that your silence was because it tires you how much I can talk," he admitted, his tone betraying a hint of hesitation.

You almost let out a laugh.

"It’s actually quite the opposite, trust me."

With those words, you turned back towards the city, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I like listening to you," you added quietly.

You thought he wouldn't add anything more. That you'd both remain frozen for another prolonged moment on this balcony, with the cameras you'd found tucked into your pockets and the looming return to work on the case. That you'd step back inside the apartment, letting the chill in your cheeks fade along with their faintly rosy hue.

"And I..." he began, nervously shifting his grip on the railing. "I really like talking to you."

You strained your memory, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't recall any other day at work when you'd smiled so many times.

“The rest is probably still in the other victims’ apartments,” you stated cautiously, recalling the locations of those places. Speaking each word slowly helped you build the courage to voice the spontaneous idea that had just come to you. “We’ve found what we were looking for. Hotch hasn’t called us yet, so I guess we’re free. Are you...are you maybe hungry?”

Your knees had brushed against each other.

“Sorry,” Spencer muttered immediately, shifting his chair back slightly.

You pretended to be preoccupied with surveying the interior of the café. To be fair, there was a lot to take in. The décor defied categorization, with every wall covered in a different material and painted a different color. One wall was entirely obscured by an antique bookshelf. From what you could tell, the mismatch extended to the furniture; no two chairs were alike. Some were made of different types of wood, others upholstered in leather, and one even spun on a swivel.

In short, the place looked like the kind of room you’d stumble into during a fever dream—where two chubby cats braid your hair while you have a very serious conversation with a purple teapot trying to convince you to take out a loan at its bank. And somehow, none of it feels the least bit strange. In fact, you’d wake up from the dream genuinely considering the loan.

One of your hands rested on your knee, the same one his had accidentally grazed. You tapped your fingers lightly on it, keeping rhythm with the pop song playing faintly in the background. The other hand was tucked beneath your chin in a classic thinker’s pose. Except, instead of contemplating the mysteries of the universe or arriving at profound insights, you were solely focused on one pressing question: Who on earth decided to use such narrow tables? Tables that constantly forced you to be hyper-aware of the risk of touching his leg. Again.

“There used to be a sandwich bar here,” you said, tearing the croissant apart with your fingers. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t even consider that anything could have changed. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Spencer assured you. “Actually, I didn’t realize how much I needed coffee until I caught the smell. Did you come here often?”

“All the time,” you admitted briefly.

You noticed him looking at you with a hint of amusement, which made you furrow your brows.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replied dismissively, turning the cup in his hands. “It’s just…I remembered what we were talking about earlier, and I thought this might be one of those things worth sharing.”

“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes, though there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in the gesture. “I used to come here with my friends literally every Friday. It was cheap and relatively close to our school, and none of us had a driver’s license yet, so we walked everywhere, complaining about sweaty people on the subway. Do you think that piece of information is going to be useful to you in any way? Was it worth sharing?”

“Well, believe it or not, I absolutely do,” he chuckled. “Besides, you never know which piece of information might come in handy someday.”

You summed it up with another roll of your eyes, but a soft smile remained stubbornly on your lips. You were genuinely pleased with yourself for breaking the ice and inviting him somewhere, even if at any moment this brief reprieve could be interrupted by a call from your boss, demanding your immediate return. JJ had been right. All it took was just doing it.

“I promised to show you around a bit, remember?” you asked. Having scored a small victory, you decided to keep the momentum going and suggest taking him to a truly special place.

“The offer hasn’t expired, right?”

“It doesn’t have an expiration date. It just depends on, well, our work. I doubt we’ll be able to visit many places. So I’ve made…” you hesitated, unsure if you should admit to spending two full hours obsessively considering where you could take him and even writing it down in the case files. “I’ve thought it through and picked out a few key ones. Places I think you’ll like. So, whenever we have time, maybe in the evening… though no, some of them might be closed then…”

"Places you think I might like?" Spencer interjected gently. You stopped, surprised, unsure why he focused on that particular part of your sentence. "What about the ones that are important to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he trailed off, making some vague gesture with his hand. "I was curious about the places you used to visit when you lived here. The ones that meant something to you. Are they on the list, too?"

You didn’t need to physically glance at the list; you had it memorized entirely and knew they weren’t on it. You had chosen the places solely with him in mind—his interests and your desire to impress him. You cleared your throat.

“We don’t have much time,” you gently reminded him. “I wanted to show you the really important places. The highlights of New York or something that would stick in your memory. Not some sandwich bar that, by the way, doesn’t even exist anymore, or a drive-in theater...”

“A drive-in theater?”

“You know, you drive up to a spot and watch a movie being projected. I absolutely loved it, really, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no way we could arrange something like that now.” you explained, your thoughts oddly lingering on the idea of spending time with him in a similar way. "God, I didn’t expect being a tour guide to be this hard. Not only do we barely have time for anything I planned, but my client keeps complaining the whole time..."

"Okay, fine, sorry," he raised his hands in a defensive gesture, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Apologies for wanting to spend time the way you would enjoy. What a jerk I am."

"Exactly, you should be ashamed. I’ll add it to your bill," you teased, taking a sip of your coffee, which you’d completely forgotten about. It had gone cold during your conversation.

"And now, completely seriously," Spencer began again, the sarcastic expression disappearing from his face as he looked at you with genuine interest, those brown eyes steady and curious. "I’ll let you take me anywhere you want. So, what places did you pick?"

You were internally excited to finally tell him about them.

But then, your phone rang.

The rest of the day was intense and entirely consumed by the investigation. Unfortunately, you didn’t uncover anything that could genuinely bring you closer to catching the perpetrator. In fact, you didn’t even have a profile yet.

Each of you felt a bit disheartened by the lack of progress. After all, every passing day meant a greater risk that another victim could be harmed in her own home. It was even more unsettling knowing that some woman was likely being stalked at that very moment.

Still, despite the mediocre morale and mounting exhaustion, you managed to summon enough energy and resolve to visit one particular place.

You were just returning from there, walking one behind the other down the narrow hallway of the hotel where you'd been stationed. You could feel Spencer's presence and hear his footsteps just behind you. In your mind, you stubbornly tried to figure out what you should say before you both retreated to your respective rooms.

There was a certain lightness in you, brought on by the release of tension through a pleasant evening, but also a heaviness caused by the weight of your feelings. It had been nice. It had been... wonderful. Yet, it hadn’t brought you any closer to knowing whether he liked you.

Maybe you should talk to JJ again.

You stopped suddenly, hearing Spencer let out a quiet sigh as he almost bumped into your back. You turned on your heel, slowly, feeling a dryness creep into your throat.

Spencer was standing just in front of you, his gaze shifting uncertainly between your face and the floor. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but immediately closed it, lost in thought. You pressed your lips into a thin line, determined to wait for whatever he might want to say.

“Where are you two coming from at this hour?”

The door to the room next to you suddenly swung open, and Morgan’s head poked out, a smirk plastered across his face as he looked at the two of you.

You both exchanged a brief glance before locking your eyes on him. The sudden presence of another person, standing in front of you with his arms crossed and curiosity in his gaze, made it painfully clear how close you had become to each other.

The most awkward thing you could possibly do now was to step away from each other. And, well, that’s exactly what Spencer did.

You didn’t even flinch, glancing briefly at your colleague.

“From the library,” you replied.

It was the truth. In a compromise between places that might interest him and those that were important to you, you had ended up there. And not just any library, but the largest one in the entire district.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a warmth spread inside you. The warmth of walking among the shelves, barely catching glimpses of each other’s faces through the surrounding orange light of the lamps fighting to dominate over the engulfing shadows. The warmth of your clumsy attempts to focus on the environment, not on Spencer’s face, which was so mesmerized as he studied the books. His brow slightly furrowed, hair escaping from its place and falling across his face. Eyes fixed on one spot, pupils stretching across the entire surface of his irises, creating two truly hypnotizing points on his face, which you struggled to avoid staring into.

“From the library at night?” Morgan repeated, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “I knew you were a nerd, Reid, but you… I’m really disappointed in you.”

“Oh no, how will I survive this?” you scoffed. You saw Spencer briefly smile as well. “Anyway, goodnight, my dear coworkers. See you tomorrow.”

With those words, you made your way to your room, feeling somewhat like an escapee.

You knew that there were only a few hours of sleep left, and you needed to at least function a bit in the morning, so you immediately headed for the shower, grabbing something to change into on the way. Two things were on your mind. Was Morgan still torturing Spencer with questions in the hallway? And did Spencer enjoy your time together as much as you did?

As you analyzed your interactions with him, you realized there was an awkwardness you hadn’t noticed before. You never realized that awkwardness could be sweet. You’d always seen it as a purely negative feeling, something that caused embarrassment. But it could also make your heart race and cause your breathing to quicken. And dizziness, when you tried to control it all.

You felt like you had regressed to your high school days. You almost wanted to run to your friend and excitedly tell her all about the evening. For a moment, you even considered it, but JJ was probably already asleep.

You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and when you pulled on a tank top and some loose pajama pants, you started gathering the clothes you’d worn earlier that day. As you lifted your pants, something small fell out of the pocket and clinked as it hit the floor.

A single key.

It took you a moment to realize that you must have accidentally taken it from one of the victims' apartments. Back when you discovered the hidden camera in the plant, you must have mindlessly shoved it into your pocket. A nervous pang of anxiety shot through your chest. You shouldn’t have taken anything from that place. Another sharp pang followed quickly after, as the sight in front of your eyes suddenly blurred, and something started to form in your mind.

At first, it was a shy thought. But almost immediately, it became a thought that needed to be discussed. Because it could push the investigation forward.

You rushed into the hallway before even deciding where to go. There, you turned in circles, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t an idea that warranted waking Hotch; honestly, you would’ve felt foolish going to him in the middle of the night with just a flicker of an insight in your head. So you thought of someone else—sharp in the way you needed, incredibly intelligent, and probably still awake, since you had just parted ways a mere fifteen minutes ago.

You knocked on Spencer's door.

“I have a theory,” you announced, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

His face registered surprise at the sight of you at this hour, his hand—still rubbing sleep from his eye—froze in place before dropping to his side. He must’ve just been lying down.

“A theory about what?” he asked, his voice a little rough with sleep.

Quite a pleasant rasp. Wait, no, refocusing…

“About who built the pyramids in Giza,” you huffed, the potential solution to the case accompanied by a little stress, and stress, for you, always came out in the form of a biting sarcasm as soon as you opened your mouth.

You slipped past him, effectively inviting yourself inside. Spencer was too surprised to step aside in time, so you inadvertently brushed against his side. Well, you didn’t want to have this conversation in the hallway, for fear that your voices would attract Morgan or anyone else.

“Well, it’s not really a secret, despite what some people like to think,” Spencer started, closing the door behind you and turning uncertainly toward you. His gaze quickly darted to you, sweeping over your body. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to focus. He must’ve been sleepy, and it probably wasn’t coming easily. “The construction of those monumental structures required the labor of many workers…”

“I have a theory about the case.”

You didn’t really think it would need further clarification. Without fully controlling your movements, you collapsed onto his bed, sitting at the edge. Suddenly, the confidence you had felt in the bathroom vanished.

He didn’t sit down, instead standing in front of you, his hands constantly shifting position. At one moment, they were crossed over his chest, and then, after a brief pause, he dropped them back to his sides. His gaze seemed restless too—almost strange. Sometimes it dropped to you, but then quickly changed direction, as though he was trying to find the right exit off a roundabout before giving up and returning to the starting point. That is, back to you. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to wonder what it was about your appearance that so intensely drew his gaze.

"Okay," he said slowly, coughing into his clenched fist to clear the roughness in his voice. "Okay. I guess that's a good thing. What's the theory? Do you need to talk it through?"

“That’s why I came here,” you replied, taking in a little more air than necessary, trying to logically connect the scattered conclusions that had formed in your mind. “Listen, it might turn out that what I’m saying makes absolutely no sense. But it might also turn out that it does have some logic to it. I want you to tell me which of these options you think is true. So... I couldn’t stop thinking about that key in the victim’s apartment, the one we were in. It looked brand new, like it had just been made. At first, I thought maybe she’d lost the old one somewhere. It ended up in the wrong hands. The unsub’s hands. That would explain how he got inside without leaving any signs of forced entry. But that would make sense if there had only been one victim. There were many, though, and it’s impossible for each one of them to have lost their keys recently. Unless they were stolen. Or maybe it was the loss of the keys that led to them becoming victims in the first place.”

The biggest mystery that had come up on your team’s path was how the unsub was even choosing his victims. They were all around the same age, all women, and lived alone. Other than that, they were completely different. They lived in different places, looked nothing alike, had different professions, and were of different races.

“So…” you continued, searching his face for any sign. Any trace of understanding, a hint that he was connecting the dots. Some confirmation. But Spencer just stood there, motionless, looking like he was only half present, his gaze fixed on you.

“I came to what might be...a bit of a bold conclusion. Maybe the unsub works as someone who makes spare keys. People come to him, including women. He picks the ones that fit his preferences, makes himself a copy, and that’s how he gets in to install hidden cameras. And then... well, to…” You paused, noticing his unwavering stare. “What? What are you looking at me like that for? Do you think I’m talking nonsense?”

He looked like he had suddenly snapped out of some daydream. He shook his head, scratching his chin, and taking a step in place, all of these actions flowing together in an incoherent, chaotic manner.

“I don’t think so,” he said after a moment. “It’s... interesting, and…you know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in something other than a formal outfit.”

Your eyebrows shot up. That was the last thing you expected him to say. While he had been fidgeting earlier, now he stood completely still. It was true, you usually dressed quite elegantly, not just for work. But you didn’t know why it seemed to impress him so much.

You didn’t know until you looked down and remembered your top. The one hastily thrown on, with a deep neckline. Seriously, was that really all about it?

You sighed in disbelief and stood up from the bed.

"Sure," you let out a biting chuckle, though, despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, you could feel a tingling sensation creeping under your skin. "Tell a guy about your breakthrough discovery, and he won't even listen, too busy staring at your boobs."

You took two steps toward the door, but Spencer blocked your way, grabbing your forearm.

“Th-that's not what I meant!” he stammered in an unusually high-pitched tone, his wide eyes reflecting panic. Whether from your sudden reaction or the fact that you caught him.

His hand loosened its grip on your arm, just below your elbow, but he didn't let go. The way he held on brought you closer together, and the realization of how near you were, along with his face right in front of yours, stole the breath from your chest. You couldn't help but reflect on how everything so far had made you both close in proximity. First the narrow balcony where your shoulders almost brushed against each other, then the tiny table in the café where your knees kept knocking, even the way you accidentally brushed past him when you entered his room.

But this closeness wasn’t accidental. It was his doing, controlled by him, and, judging by the shock on his face after a quick glance, it seemed to surprise him as well.

He didn’t let go of you.

Instead, he focused his gaze on your face. You kept your head lowered, staring at his fingers gently holding your arm. You could hear him swallow softly before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy again, but this time not from sleep.

"I think your theory makes a lot of sense," he said. "And...it’s given me a lot to think about. It’s probably a man around forty years old. He works as a locksmith, using that job to gain access to his victims’ homes where he installs cameras. He sees these women as objects of his fantasies, and watching them provides him with some sort of fulfillment. His behavior stems from an unfulfilled need for closeness and control, which he can’t find in normal relationships. He’s socially inept, has low self-esteem, and a poor sense of self-worth. He writes to these women, idealizes them, sees them as his chosen ones, living in an alternate reality where he doesn’t see the boundary between fantasy and reality."

There was a moment of silence between you, as you analyzed the profile he had just presented.

"That's...impressive," you confessed slowly, still dazed by the sudden closeness, your gaze stubbornly avoiding his face.

"And that's all..." he began, but then suddenly stopped. The word simply dissolved in a hesitant, trembling way. You heard him take a deep breath. "And that's all while looking at your breast."

You suddenly lifted your head.

Never, not in a million years, did you think you’d find yourself in a situation where you’d hear such words coming from him. Your jaw slightly dropped, and a strange feeling spread through your stomach. You were not only shocked but also, in a way, on the verge of laughter because of the surprise on his face. It was as if he had said it by accident and didn't quite believe it himself. At the same time, something inside you tickled.

You let out a short sigh, sounding almost like a burst of laughter.

Spencer released your forearm, and as your silence dragged on, deep embarrassment began to consume his expression.

"Sorry...I don't know why I said that..."

You interrupted him by raising your hand.

"No," you said briefly, shaking your head slightly. "That was really impressive."

Confused, he studied your face. When you smiled, he hesitantly mirrored it, though he probably didn’t even know why—he was simply mimicking your expression.

Without turning back, you took two slow steps toward the door.

"You’ll have to present that profile to Hotch," you announced, resting your hand on the doorknob. Spencer still hadn’t moved, and his face bore a hard-to-decipher expression—part apology, part embarrassment, and part... something else. A certain spark.

Before stepping out and leaving him in that state, you glanced back at him one last time with a smirk.

"Just do me a favor and don’t mention the circumstances under which it was developed, alright?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself one more smile—this time a genuine one.

"Trust me. I wasn’t planning on it.”

Hotch stared at you for a moment in silence, and the corner of his mouth…twitched?! For the first time since you started working at the BAU, you managed to make your boss smile.

It would be nice to know why.

The next day, thanks to the conclusions you and Spencer had reached in his room, you finally managed to catch the unsub. Your theory about the locksmith turned out to be correct. And when you realized it was Friday, a certain thought crossed your mind. You just needed to clear it with the boss. Well, actually, you only needed to inform him that you and one other team member wouldn't be on the jet that day. Taking advantage of the upcoming weekend, you decided to extend your stay in New York for one more day.

A day that you could spend however you wanted.

The idea came to you so spontaneously that you hadn’t even discussed it with Spencer yet, but you felt, you hoped, that he wouldn't surprise you by turning it down.

The only thing standing in your way was that mysterious smile on Hotch’s face.

“Is that a problem?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

He just shook his head, returning to his usual expression. Though it seemed slightly softer, or maybe it was just your impression.

“It’s not a problem,” he assured. “Reid actually asked me the same thing about ten minutes ago.”

“Just, for the record, don’t mention to anyone what we used the company car for,”

"Do you really think I'd go bragging to the office that we used an unmarked police car just to have a place to watch movies at a drive-in?"

He barely caught the bag of chips you tossed at him.

"Just making sure," you said, climbing into the back of the car.

Well, it was definitely a pastime much more popular in the summer, which is why there weren’t many other vehicles around. And also why you immediately curled up under your cozy blanket, claiming almost all of it for yourself. The only source of light in that peaceful spot was the large screen ahead of you, with the movie beginning. But even in the dim lighting, you could see him tilt his head and slightly pout.

You sighed and shared the blanket with him. Or rather, you moved closer enough that the fabric could cover both of you. You added it to the list of situations where, once again, you found yourselves in circumstances that somehow required physical contact. It made you wonder if, somewhere up there, some force was orchestrating the universe’s chessboard in such a way that these moments seemed to happen more often than not.

Of course, not that it bothered you.

While you were still struggling with the blanket, trying to find the most comfortable position, Spencer told you a little about the awards that Roman Holiday had won.

“Sorry if I’m disturbing you,” he suddenly said.

“I told you, I like listening to you,” you reminded him, turning your face slightly toward his.

Finally, everything was perfect. The blanket wrapped around you in the most comfortable way, you could lean your back against the trunk and your shoulder against his. He was there.

“Yeah, but the movie just started.”

“I’ve seen it,” you announced. Somehow, you couldn’t take your eyes off his profile, even though all you could see was the outline of his jaw and nose, and the barely noticeable glint in his eye. “And I really like it. But just so you know, I didn’t pick it just to... you know.”

“Know what?”

“It’s a romantic comedy.”

He turned toward you, and you saw him flinch slightly, realizing that your gaze had been on him for quite some time. Spencer gave a slight shake of his head, furrowing his brows in confusion. You could have easily brushed it off, accepted that he didn’t understand what you meant. Probably, with anyone else, you would have. But you noticed that the more time you spent with him, the surprisingly more talkative you became. So, you continued without thinking too much about your words.

“What I mean is, I didn’t pick this movie to fit a date. It just so happens that today…”

“Is this a date?” he blurted out.

You stiffened completely, not just because of his question, but because of the genuine surprise in his voice. You wanted to ask, isn’t this a date? but your lips refused to open. Instead, you just stared at him motionless for a moment, hoping he might laugh it off.

After the conversation in his room, after he decided to stay one more day in New York for you, after you both chose to watch the movie just the two of you…Officially, neither of you had called it a date, but you had assumed that deep down, you both saw it that way. Apparently, you were wrong.

"The movie has already started," you muttered, nodding toward the screen. It had begun some time ago, but you had no idea how to change the topic. You had to do it because of the growing sense of embarrassment consuming you from the inside.

You had told him you thought it was a date. It was like telling him you liked him. Which, in fact, was true, but you didn’t want him to be aware of it, especially since he didn’t feel the same!

“Hey,” he suddenly began, his voice a little strained. You pretended not to hear, staring at the screen. Spencer sighed and leaned forward to block your view of it, forcing you to look at him. His eyes nervously searched your face, you saw him swallow. “Is this a date for you?”

You wanted to push him away for asking the same question again.

"It doesn’t matter," you replied. Your tone was sharp but not aggressive. It was the same tone you used most days at work to make it clear to others that you expected to be treated with respect and that the situation or case you were working on was serious. "If this isn’t a date for you, then it isn’t a date. End of story. Can you move? I can’t see…”

“But I…” he began, not moving an inch. His forehead remained furrowed, and his brows slightly lowered over his eyes—genuine, still somewhat surprised eyes, trying to connect with yours. Finally, under their silent pressure, you gave in and looked at him. Spencer’s expression softened. "I didn't even dare to hope that this was a date!"

Something—some feeling—clung tightly to your shoulders, pulling them both forward, toward him, and backward, against the wall of the trunk.

“You’re only saying that to spare me from feeling awkward. And so we don’t have to spend the next few hours… the next day in an unbearably embarrassing atmosphere,” you stated, genuinely believing those words to be true. “Which I’m probably not making any easier. Maybe we should just forget it…”

“Do you wish this was a date?” he asked, and you barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you did. You wanted to scream it into his beautiful face. Spencer exhaled loudly. “Because I’d want it to be. I really would.”

You lingered in a moment of suspension, unable to decide whether to believe him. Your job had taught you not to always trust words. Just words.

“Prove it,” you said softly but firmly.

Deep down, you didn’t know what you expected. And neither did Spencer, standing opposite you. Like you, he didn’t move at all. Only subtle changes flickered across his expression. Another crease formed on his forehead as he tried to decipher what lay behind your words. After a long moment, during which neither of you seemed to breathe, his gaze dropped to your lips. That’s when he understood.

You knew he was going to kiss you. You waited for it, ready to meet him, to gently place your hand on his cheek and feel the warmth of his lips against yours. You waited to sweep away the lingering question mark hanging above you both with one decisive motion, replacing it with a firm period.

Was this a date?

It was a date.

Spencer placed his hand under your chin, holding it close to him. Preventing you from pulling away when he momentarily broke the kiss. You saw the smooth flutter of his eyelashes as he shifted his sparkling gaze from your lips to your eyes.

“Sorry,” he rasped.

You couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Are you apologizing for kissing me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly.

He shook his head, a fleeting smile appearing on his face as well.

“I’m sorry for sometimes being so stupid,” he replied. “About these things.”

You closed your eyes again, letting out a soft snort of laughter. Suddenly, all of it—this whole dance you had been performing around each other, the panic when you realized you liked him, and the fear that he wouldn’t feel the same—seemed utterly absurd. But that’s just how people are, isn’t it? Looking back at the past with a touch of pity.

"Let’s agree on this. We’re both complete idiots."

Spencer was silent for a moment, lost in thought.

“We were,” he corrected you.

"We aren’t anymore?” you asked.

He answered by placing another kiss on your lips.

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bruhstories · 22 hours ago

Text

Bet II

p.1 here

summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k

a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.

You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.

Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.

You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor.

It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.

Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho

A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.

Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.

You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.

Ding!

Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge.

Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.

"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.

As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor.

"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."

There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.

Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.

As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang.

Kitchen and dining room done!

You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.

"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"

The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day.

At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered.

You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo.

Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me.

When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.

Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.

Ding!

Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.

Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm.

I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.

You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.

"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?"

Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.

When was the last time you watered the cactus?

Ding!

You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.

I don't remember.

Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant.

Ding!

Another text? You took your phone out and read it.

Why would your uncle be upset?

The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.

He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.

Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?

You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age. You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom.

Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you.

Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair

i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 days ago

Note

Morally ambiguous corpo scientist gets transfered to a "exciting new project" only to find it's a Predator breeding program.

Breeding Program

Character: T'a'yta (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: I'M WARNING YOU NOW, I WENT FERAL BADLY. Rape/Non con contents. Sex pollen, SMUT, very rough sex, knotting, breeding. Read at your own risk, seriously.

Word Count: 3159

Summary: As a scientist, the ability to move up in the world was amazing. To surpass people you thought were the top dogs in your program and placed in a new section. A new program. You hadn't been briefed but the pay was phenomena. Nothing to complain about there. You met up with Amelia, the head of the program, at the facility and get a tour. At the end, she takes you down a hallway, opens a door to a pitch black room. Then shoves you in.

Author Note: I'm warning you all. This seriously might be the darkest thing I've ever wrote. I don't know why my brain went this route, but it did. Please, I'm warning you. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Masterlist

Ao3

After the years to finally work underneath this team of scientist, you were astonished to find they had referred you higher up the chain. To a new exciting project that could change the world. The opening letter they gave you easily hyped you up. Before you knew it, you were accepting the new position. Your items were going to be transferred over at a later date.

The new team wanted to meet you so bad. That’s what they told you. That’s what you believed. You found yourself at the new building that had just been finished. This was nerve racking but exciting at the same time. All new equipment and gear to test out. State of the art equipment has been entrusted to you. Out of all the people, you’ve been promoted to such a position. This was destiny!

Smiles greeted you when you first walked through the doors. The team lead was here in person to greet you the moment you stepped onto the new grounds.

Amelia says your name with a soft smile that complimented her features. “It’s so good to see you! We’ve been waiting for you to finally arrive. I hope the travel wasn’t bad?” She guides you towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors open and welcome you aboard. You step in after Amelia, nearly bouncing off of the ground with each step. A dream becoming reality.

“No,” you shake your head. “It wasn’t bad. The flight was beautiful though. Being that high up.” The memory of all the gorgeous clouds that covered the sky. Then, seeing as far as the eye could see. All of the land that went on and on. You loved it. “I’m so excited to be here too. It’s been my dream to work in an environment like this. When do I get to meet the rest of the team?”

There weren’t much for details about the project besides how cool it would be for you to join the team. Of course, you couldn’t say no. Not when a job like this could be the last one you would ever need. Plus, the pay was… wow. Amazing!

The elevator’s doors slid open to reveal a long hallway with black tile floors and grey walls. Little décor filled the empty space. You didn’t mind it. The place was still new. Maybe they hadn’t gotten around to fully furnishing the space.

Both of you walked out. Amelia laughed. “Oh, they’re around. They just didn’t want to crowd you and overwhelm you on your introduction day. Today is just meant to show you around, learn the space before the people, you know?” You nodded along, agreeing with everything she said. You already felt on the verge of being overwhelmed with a different workspace and people.

“Aw, alright. If you can, tell them I can’t wait to meet them, please?” you asked of her. All you wanted to do was impress the team more than you already have. To show them that you have a passion for science. It’s your livelihood.

“I sure can do that for you.” Amelia took the closet right down the hallway from the elevator. Her steps were precise with black two-inch heels. “They’ll be happy to know you’re thinking about them.”

A long, rectangular glass window was built into the wall. Amelia stops and motions towards the glass. Where you see tables of equipment just sitting there, ready for use. They are brand new, still shiny and lacking even fingerprints. Your eyes sparkle, hands twitching desperate to touch everything. But, you tamper down the feeling.

“This is amazing already, Amelia. I can’t wait to see the rest of the building.” When she smiles at you again, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “When will be my first day? I hadn’t gotten any emails about it.” You were concerned that maybe something as wrong with your emails. You needed to get everything right. This was your dream job. Over your dead body will you let this go.

She waves her hand like she’s brushing it off. “We’ve been having a little issue with our emails lately. Currently, we have you starting as soon as possible. Whenever you are ready.” Seriously?! That meant you could probably start today!

The tour continued down the same hall, taking a right. “Really? Is it possible I could start today? I would love to get my hands on the tools as soon as possible.” Hopefully you don’t overdo it with your passion to work. At least in this field.

“Of course. I’m glad because we were planning for your first day to start right now.” She shows you to another room similar to room before with a more open space. This side looked like it dealt with more chemicals than biology. “The team isn’t here today. But I’m more than happy to let you roam after the tour, get to know the place.”

This possibly couldn’t be happening! God, you were in heaven. No one could smack the smile off of your face. No matter how hard they tried.

“Thank you. I’m so glad I can start today. I promise not to let you down.” Another room is showed to you. “I’ve had a passion for science since I was little. I know I’m going to be a great fit for the team.”

“I know you won’t let us down.” The two of your continue further down a different hall. The doors become less welcoming and more… prison like. As if they’re trying to keep something in. In the heat of the moment, you silence the alarm going off in your head. “I know you will be a great fit. Very great fit to our team.”

There’s something in the way she said that nearly threw you off. Your brows furrowed for only a second before she stopped in front of a door. This one looked even more heavily modified than any of the others you’ve seen. It’s at the end of a hallway, furthest from the rest of the facility.

“Ah, here we are. I can’t believe the tour already has come to an end.” She almost sounded genuinely sad to end the tour. Amelia places her hand on a screen next to the entrance. “This is where I leave you to your work, doctor.”

The metal slab slid into a hidden pocket and revealed a dark, pitch black room. You tilted your head and peered inside. Maybe the lights will turn on by motion. You turn towards her. “Hey the lights-“

Hands shoved at you from behind. A scream left your lips as you stumble forward before falling to your hands and knees. The darkness instantly crowds you, trying to suck you into its being. You whipped your head around to find Amelia standing at the entrance with an evil grin. A shudder ran its course through your body. Your breathing started to increase.

“Have fun with our new… project.” Then, the door snapped close and sealed you in the pitch blackness that threatened to consume you whole.

Your heart thundered in your ears. Blindly, you stood on unsteadily legs with your arms out to feel around. One step forward almost sent you back to the ground. The shakiness of your entire being was throwing you off. You took another step of faith only to be blinded by white light that sent you back on your butt.

Pain stung at your sensitive eyes. The change didn’t take you long to peel them open and see the room you’ve been thrown into.

And the beast who watched with rapt attention.

Terror gripped at your heart. You didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe. It’s bright, vibrant eyes that nearly glowed were pinned on your trembling form. It’s barrel chest heaved with each deep intake of air it took. Never did it look away from you.

Something about it made you feel like prey in the sight of a predator. It just needed to sink its claws into your fragile flesh.

“You might be wondering what this thing is and why we’ve brought you here?” Amelia’s voice broke the tension in the air coming from a speaker system. You yelped at the sudden sound and scrambled backwards. The humanoid creature observed every move you made. The moment you moved, it roared with a piercing sound and lunged at you.

Heavy chains secured it to the wall. They creaked under its strength as its wild eyes looked at you. Its arm clawed at the air as if it could pull you closer. Your back smacked against the nearest wall as you stared at the creature. Fear evident in your eyes. You watched as the beast cried and spat spittle with each attempt to get to you. But, thankfully the chains held.

“This is the project we’ve raved about. Meet… a Yautja. An alien from outer space,” Amelia lets the words settle for a dramatic pause. In the mean time, the creature has finally calmed down once it realized it couldn’t get to you for the moment. “Well, we needed someone to test something out for us. Of course, I didn’t want to use any of our wonderful staff here. So, I choose you. Our new test subject.”

Test subject?! “For what!?” you screamed at her, hoping she could hear you. Hear the anger that wiggled through the terror.

“For our breeding program.” You blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then, the words finally sunk in completely. “We’ve captured this Yautja when he landed in LA. We gave him an aphrodisiac. Now, he’s become a mindless, breeding male. And you, our dear test subject, will be the first. We hope you survive.”

Silence entered the air afterwards. The speakers no longer buzzed with energy. Her words flew wildly inside of your mind, bouncing around every corner. You tried to make sense, come to terms with what she’s put you into. But it… you couldn’t settle. They’re using you for a breeding program with an alien. An alien that looked ready to tear you apart rather then- you stopped the thoughts. You swallowed thickly and weakly stood on shaky legs.

In horror, you observed the chains clicking open. Once the last one was released, there wasn’t even time to register the brown, humanoid shape flash across the room. Strong, massive hands snatched your throat and the front of your shirt. The fabric was torn from your form and discarded without any regard. Next, your pants and underwear were taken care of in the same matter.

You screamed and tried to kick and punch the mindless beast. All of your strikes hit. Yet none of them deterred him. It seemed like they didn’t even tickle him. It forced you face down, ass up underneath it. The entire palm of his hand gripped the side of your head, keeping you pinned in a primed position.

It leaned down and covered you with its entire body. Heat radiated off of it like a firepit. Flames flickering to lick at your clammy skin. You shuttered at the difference of temperature. It’s free hand reached between your legs but paused for a moment.

“I-I ca-an’t stop,” a throaty, croaky voice whispered into your ear. You tensed up underneath the beast before jerking at the touch of its fingers. They glided through your slit, gathering what slick had pooled. Your body betraying you at the knowledge of a monster getting ahold of you.

That almost… sounded like an apology of some kind. The scientists have turned this alien into a mindless, breeding machine with the aphrodisiac. The poor thing couldn’t control its actions. All it could do was follow instinct, despite the difference of species.

A whine surged past your lips when the wet pad of its finger rubbed around your hardening nub. At least, he was trying to make it bearable. You felt something blazing hot and throbbing slide between your open legs, rubbing against your slit. A moan left your lips before you could stop yourself. You didn’t stop struggling but your attempts were weakening.

The tip was tapered by the feeling of it. You felt it nudge against your entrance. He paused for a moment, as if fighting the drugs that filled his system. Then, his hips snapped forward and full sheathed his cock into you. You cried out against the dirty, concrete floor and clawed for escape. The beast added more weight to pin you down and began a pace you couldn’t comprehend. All before you had a chance to make sense of what’s up and what’s down.

Each thrust nearly sent you flying towards the wall. If it wasn’t for his hand on your head, you would’ve been smooshed against it. Your eyes were clenched shut. “Fuck! S-slow… slow down!” you begged for relief, even for a moment. The beast deepened a growl and quickened his thrusts somehow. The pain only increased with pleasure. You were barely able to breath as he thrusted into you sent the air out of your lungs.

His other hand not holding your head gripped your hip in a bruising hold. Sharp talons punctured your flesh. Beads of red pooling to the surface then dripping down your belly and onto the cold, unforgiving floor. There was nothing you could do to stop him. All you were able to do was hold on for the unrelenting ride.

To ease some of the ache, you reached between your legs and circled two digits around your puffy clit. The stretch of his massive, thick cock pressed against every little nerve you had. At the touch, you mewled and quickened the speed almost to match his.

Your bottom lip was pinched between dull teeth, trying to hold in your noises. It was embarrassing. To take enjoyment out of this. But, fuck. The creature took up every inch of available space inside of you then some more. You could feel the way your stomach distended each time he sheathed himself to the hilt. There was something expanding at the base of him as well. It would catch each time he pushed in and out.

Thick fingers gripped the strands of your hair and yanked your head back. One arm slapped against the smooth concrete floors. You squealed and released the hold on your lip, forced to let everyone know how you were feeling.

The pleasure building in your stomach was amounting to something. Despite the ache and pains this gave you, you were feeling the coil tightening. You rewetted your fingers with your own juices before going back to work. The way they easily slid over your puffy clit had you seeing stars.

It continued to build and build. He lets go of your hair, letting your upper torso to lie back on the ground. You almost curled into yourself, confused about the nearing end, and panted heavily. “Oh, fuck. H-how?!” you muttered to yourself.

White flashed across your vision. Your walls clamped down on his thick shaft, trying to suck him in deeper. A weak, pathetic squeak escaped your vocal cords, the only sound you could make. Your entire body tensing up and rode out the waves of the overwhelming pleasure.

Amidst your orgasm, the beast growled in victory then pushed his hips flush with yours. A loud, deafening roar tore from his throat. You felt his cock swell inside of you, the base locking him inside of you. The ball of flesh pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves just on the inside of your cunt. You trembled and shook underneath him. The ecstasy far too much for you to handle.

As the last of the pleasure started to fade away, you slumped weakly onto the floor, hips still held up by his hand. The feeling of the thick, swollen flesh boarded uncomfortable. You trembled and attempted to pull your hips away from his.

The creature snarled threateningly and ensnared your entire waist with an arm. You fearfully tensed up. But, he calmed down afterwards and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Deadly fangs grazed across your flesh, pebbling the skin with goosebumps. Vibrations ran down from your spine. Barely a sound made. He rubbed his face against your skin, coating you with his scent.

You were thankful for that to be over. For the most part. He was still lodged deep inside of you with no way of pulling out. He wouldn’t let you. You took in deep, lungsful of air, and tried to regulate your breathing.

Some time past when you felt him start to deflate inside of you. With a grunt, the creature jerked his hips back. The ball of flesh popped free from your stretched entrance. He pulled away. Fresh air flushed over you and made you shiver at the coolness of the air.

Yet, you weren’t cold for long. The same heat from before prodded at your entrance. Your exhausted state immediately drained away. You jerked up and attempted to get on your hands. A massive hand slammed you back onto the ground. The alien snarled another warning to you then sunk all the way to the base inside of you again.

It wasn’t as painful as before. The earlier treatment had you stretched out beyond your limits. You still keened at the feeling and squirmed. He rewrapped his arm around your waist and pulled your hips flush with his.

“Again?” you asked with a cry. The first round was punishing enough. You didn’t know if you could survive another go with him.

He pulled his hips back until the tip was still sitting just inside of you. With a growl, the beast plowed back into you without any mercy.

The aphrodisiac was a powerful drug on him. It forced him to go on. All the way till you reached the verge of blacking out. Either from exhaustion or the amount of orgasms he pulled from you. You swore he went until his balls had been emptied inside of you, filling you with his seed. The inside of your legs coated with it. With a small puddle pooling between your trembling legs.

Finally, the creature collapsed to the side and pulled you with him. His knot was still lodged inside of you, keeping the contents of his last orgasm deep inside of you. You had no energy to fight. You let him take you, unable to barely keep your eyes open enough to see. They were filled with blurry tears.

His arm tightened around your waist, keeping you locked to him. You groaned, deep from your chest, eyes shut at this point.

“If you can hear me… I am sorry for my actions,” he muttered lowly into your ear. Only for you hear. You didn’t have the energy to answer. Just lying there, in his arms, letting sleep take you away. “I promise you. I’ll get us out of here.”

Hope fluttered to life in your chest.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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cognitiveoverload · 2 days ago

Text

Nobody got you the way I do (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: One of your employees turns out to be a serial killer, and the BAU suspects that he might want to hurt you too, so they want to make sure you're safe. Hotch takes it a little too seriously, and there's a reason for that.

note: I'm not so sure about this one, I don't know why. But this is the robotics expert!CEO!reader story I mentioned in the poll.

tags: afab!reader, overprotective!Hotch, brat tamer!Hotch?

wc: 5.4k

“I told you not to bother me today.”

Your assistant, Lizzie, is the only one at this company who spends the entire day in high heels, which is why the familiar clicking sound lets you know it’s her who entered your private lab. Since you know who it is, you don’t even look up from the prosthetic arm you have lying on the table in front of you, connected to your laptop to spend the day fixing the damn thing. A deadline is coming up, and you took charge of this pet project of yours, this is why you are dead serious when you ask your employees to respect your request to leave you alone for now.

She lets out a hesitant hum as she steps closer to you, leaning down so you can hear her clearly even when she speaks quietly. “Two FBI agents are here to see you. They said it was important,” she tells you.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, you look up to find two men standing there in the room. One of them is young, maybe a few years younger than you, and his eyes are focused on the prototype you’re working on. The other? Now, that’s an interesting situation. The other agent in question is someone you have met before, at a party over half a year ago, when he helped you talk to a suicidal acquaintance who decided to pick that night to jump off the roof of the building. Unlike his colleague’s, his eyes are fixed on you, making you feel like you’re currently being studied under a microscope.

“Gentlemen, what can I do for you?” you ask casually, folding your hands on the table.

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner, this is Dr. Reid,” the older man begins, pretending not to know you. Well, if that’s how he wants to play, you’re happy to join the game. “Your company showed up as a link between the victims in a series of murders.” He puts a folder in front of you, waiting until you open it to take a look at the paper inside. “Is there anything they have in common besides being your ex-employees?”

You go through the list of names, and it’s instantly obvious what that thing is. “They were all fired,” you reply as you close the folder and push it back towards them.

Sadly, Hotch knows there’s more to the story, and he’s not afraid to pry for more information. “And? I know there’s something you’re not telling us. Why were they fired?”

“Corporate espionage.” While you don’t want to go into the details and think about these cases again, they both seem interested in hearing what it’s all about, so you let out a sigh and continue. “They were all caught selling confidential information to our competitors or anyone who was willing to pay enough. Classic case, nothing unusual.”

Reid bites his lips as he quickly thinks about something. “What’s the process if you have a case like this? What do you do?” he wonders.

“I usually let my Chief Security Officer take care of it. His name is Jonathan Hayes, he’s been with us since the beginning, so he knows everything about the company. He sits down with the employee in question with HR present, hands over the paperwork, and beside that, he consults the legal department to take care of the rest,” you explain.

“We didn’t find court documents,” Hotch points out.

With a small smirk, you shrug. “I don’t need scandals. We keep things quiet.”

The two men look at each other, then, as if there was a silent agreement between them, they excuse themselves and ask for a moment while they discuss something outside. With a shrug, you roll the swivel chair to the side to check something on the laptop, but moments after you begin to tweak the set of codes on the screen, your fingers freeze above the keyboard and your gaze shifts to the glass wall to take a look at them. Whatever they’re talking about, it surely involves you, because every now and then they turn your way. Perfect. They hopefully don’t think you used Hayes as your personal assassin or something.

A few minutes later they finally return, and it’s Reid who speaks up. “Can we talk to Hayes? We have some questions, hopefully he can help us out.”

“He’s on unpaid leave due to some family issue,” you tell them.

“Since when?” he asks with a frown.

You blow out the air you didn’t even notice you’ve been holding, and lean back in your chair as you think. “He left about a month ago. Why?”

Before Reid can speak up, Hotch takes a deep breath and steps closer to the desk. “Has he tried to contact you since then?” he asks, his voice laced with worry that you’re not sure his colleague can detect. But you notice, you’re painfully aware of it.

“He called a few times, but usually when I was busy doing something else.”

“So you didn’t talk to him?”

“Not really.”

“When was the last time he called you?”

That one you don’t have to think about. “Three days ago. He called me more and more frequently in the week before that, and since he didn’t stop even after I sent him a text to find my assistant, I decided to block his number until he returns,” you explain.

Reid turns to his boss when he hears this. “The timeline checks out, and his number being blocked might be what triggered the changes in his method and the messages,” he says quickly.

There’s a nod of agreement before Hotch turns back to you. “You need to come with us now.”

“What did I do?”

“Nothing wrong, don’t worry. But Hayes will soon be looking for you, and we’d rather have you somewhere safe until we find him,” he tells you, earning a doubtful look from you.

Because you have a feeling Hayes stepped up to be their prime suspect, although it simply doesn’t make sense to you. If you don’t count this little phone call issue, your relationship is quite good, and he’s always so nice, so friendly. “He would never hurt anyone,” you tell them, deciding that ignoring them might be the best approach. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to ask you to leave now. I have a lot to do.”

“Listen to me,” you hear Hotch’s hushed voice once he leans over the table, “you’re not safe until we catch him, so put the attitude aside and come with us.”

With a huff, you look back at the screen and begin to type like they weren’t even there. But despite your best effort, his brown eyes are burning a hole into your skull, and you can feel the annoyance that fills him. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say without looking at him.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Stop being a brat,” he tells you angrily.

��Did you just call me a brat?”

“Hotch?” Reid asks in the background, but he raises a hand to stop him. That doesn’t work, though, because the younger agent realized that he needs to intervene before things get out of hand. “We found messages at the crime scenes, and now that we know the real reason why those employees had been let go, it’s clear Hayes did this to protect you,” he explains.

This gets your attention and you finally look up from the screen to meet his eyes. “To protect me? How does killing them protect me?”

“He’s loyal to you, and he would go to great lengths to make sure you and your company are safe. To him, you’re like a family member he needs to protect,” he says.

Gulping, you pinch the bridge of your nose. “But he’s such a normal guy. Tough, sure, but murdering people?” you note with a desperate laugh. It’s insane, why can’t this madness happen to someone else?

“They often seem harmless,” he offers with a sympathetic smile. “Look, we need a list of the employees who were fired for corporate espionage or other major issues Hayes dealt with in the past.”

“Sure, I’ll ask my assistant to send you the list,” you assure them without hesitation.

But Hotch doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, because he moves around the desk to close your laptop, then helps you up from the chair. “You can make that call from the car. Let’s go,” he says as he lets his hand move to your elbow to lead you toward the door.

“Wait, I can’t go, I have a deadline, and an interview, and—”

“Now,” he says sternly, leaving no room for an argument.

For a moment there’s a staring contest between you two, but then out of the corner of your eye you notice Reid’s surprised expression. Maybe this isn’t the time for such an argument, so you put up your hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, just let me get my bag and laptop from my office,” you say as you yank your arm away and take the lead toward the elevator.

On the way out of the building, Reid starts a conversation with you about your work, but it’s hard to focus with Hotch’s hand on the small of your back as he leads you. He doesn’t look at you, and deep down you’re grateful for that. When you get into the car, you sit in the middle of the back seat so it’s easier to keep the chat with the younger agent going, because you’re happy to talk about your little projects with someone who truly appreciates the science behind your innovations.

He’s intelligent, that one’s clear, and the more you learn about him, the more you feel like in another life you could be friends, and you would probably ask him to work for you too. While the conversation flows freely, you don’t miss the way Hotch looks at you through the rearview mirror every once in a while, so when there’s a little break in the discussion, you take the chance to change the topic a little.

“Is he always this grumpy?” you ask Reid with a playful smile.

Before he can respond, Hotch rolls his eyes. “I’m not grumpy,” he states.

“Then serious.”

He exhales slowly, making it clear he has to force himself to stay calm. “I’m chasing serial killers, more people would die if I took my job too lightly,” he explains.

“So would a smile kill you?” you wonder, deliberately pushing his buttons.

“I think you should—” Reid begins his warning, but the other man is quick to interrupt him.

“No.”

You grab the back of his seat and lean forward to be closer. “Then why don’t you smile?” Hotch groans as he shakes his head, and you take the hint. So, once again, you change the topic as you lean back against the seat. “You know what? I’ll make a few calls and hire a security company to keep an eye on me in my own house, so I don’t need your protection. Also, you said Hayes—if he really is the killer, that is—was looking for employees we let go for certain reasons. As far as I know, I’m still the head of this company.”

Reid turns in his seat as he begins to talk. “Yes, but Hayes is getting impatient, angry, and based on the timeline you told us, it’s related to you ignoring his calls. He will get mad at you and try to punish you for that.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Why?” Hotch asks.

“Does it really matter?”

“I’m going to ask this one last time—why?”

Your silence gives Reid an idea. “Were you in a romantic relationship with him?”

“God, no, no, it’s just,” you begin, stopping for a moment to think. “He has a family, he’s always so nice to everyone, why would he do that? It can’t be to protect me.”

“His way of thinking isn’t exactly rational anymore,” the younger man begins, flashing an understanding smile at you. “As for the security company, it would be best if you stayed close to us.”

With a sigh, you decide to drop it for now. In fact, you want to let go of the conversation altogether. So, instead of putting up another fight, you unlock your phone and dive into your emails, ignoring the men’s existence for the rest of the ride.

••••••••••

Once on their floor, Reid leads you to an empty office, saying you can use that for the time being. It’s way darker than the office or the lab that you’re used to, but you don’t have the luxury to be picky, there is a lot to do before you can call it a day. The interview was transformed into an online one, the journalist promised to call you a little later, the board meeting that was scheduled for the afternoon was postponed to the day after tomorrow, and you gave yourself a new deadline as the prototype wasn’t here with you.

Yet, despite the long to-do list, you don’t interrupt Reid when he continues your previous conversation about your work, and soon you’re joined by Garcia, who charms you in a matter of seconds. Prentiss and Morgan arrive as well, shortly introducing themselves before leaving to get back to work.

But then the little gathering is coming to a halt, because Hotch shows up just to tell you that you can’t stay here. Instead, he wants you to use his office, saying he’d rather have you somewhere he can keep an eye on you. Garcia and Reid both watch you with visible confusion, which tells you it must be quite unusual, even for them. But you don’t feel like arguing, so you follow the unit chief down the hallway.

As you’re sitting on the couch, you can’t help but glance over at him every now and then, watching as he tries to catch up with the paperwork while they wait. For what, though, is a mystery, no one tells you anything regarding the case. Being left in the dark is definitely not what you’re used to.

Two hours later he returns to the office, but instead of coming in, he simply leans against the doorframe, brown eyes watching you with surprising softness. “How about getting some coffee?” he asks.

Now that’s something you can’t say no to. “You have coffee?”

A short, dry laugh follows your question. “We do, it’s terrible, which is why I was thinking about going to a coffee shop nearby. Want to come with me?”

“I thought I had to stay here to be safe,” you point out.

“It’s close and I have a gun,” he says with a barely visible smile. “So?”

“That would be great.”

He signals you to follow him, and, as if you were a trained puppy, you do exactly as he wants. While you pass the bullpen, you can’t help but notice the eyes of the members of his team, and you even hear the whispers behind your back. Do they suspect something? Did they notice that maybe you have met before this morning? Or what if Hotch told them himself? But no, if he did, he wouldn’t have acted like he didn’t know you.

In the car, there’s a comfortable silence settling between you, and it’s hard not to think about the night you met him. The party was boring, the usual shallow event where people could network and show off, but when a woman you knew came over to you to say a mutual acquaintance was on the roof, planning to jump down after receiving a phone call, things took an interesting turn.

Hotch was in the group you were both a part of in a conversation, and when he heard what happened, he offered to join you. It took a good half hour, but eventually he managed to convince the man to change his mind, and that’s when he told you about who he was. The rest of the night passed with a pleasant chat, learning a lot more about each other, and at the end he asked for your number, promising to call you soon.

Well, he never did.

But today, you’re willing to put that aside if he wants to act like you didn’t know each other. Instead of stirring drama, you inhale deeply and look out the window. “You know, it’s nice,” you note, breaking the silence.

“What’s nice?”

“Not being treated like I was some weirdo.”

For a moment, he turns his head to look at you. “That’s how people see you?” You let out a hum of confirmation. “Well, having Reid on the team helped us gain some experience in dealing with geniuses, I guess.”

“Look at that! A smile! You should smile more often,” you note teasingly, even biting on your lip before commenting on how much more handsome it makes him.

He shakes his head without glancing over at you. “You’re not letting that smile thing go, are you?” he asks.

“Hmm… No, I don’t think so.” Silence falls between you, because there’s something you want to ask, something you’re not sure you should bring up. But then you take a deep breath and speak up again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“You’re nice to me,” you say, then turn to look at him. “Why?”

Hotch takes a deep breath before looking at you, and you can see a slightly confused expression on his face. “As far as I know, it’s not a crime to be nice.”

“That’s true, still.” His eyes turn back to the road ahead, and you can tell that this was all, he doesn’t want to talk more about this. “So, I guess he wasn’t at home,” you then say, changing the topic. You know Morgan and Prentiss went to Hayes’ home, but neither of them told you about the result.

“No, he wasn’t. But we will find him,” he assures you.

“Are you sure I’m in danger?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He remains silent for a little too long, probably wondering how much he can tell you. “His wife left him about eight months ago and took their daughter with her. That could be a stressor. He focused on his job, where he once again found traitors, then he lost control.”

“That doesn’t explain why he would turn on me.”

“You’ve been ignoring him. You blocked his number. He’s getting angry, he kills more frequently. We found another body today, but this time it wasn’t a past or current employee. He will reach the point when he starts to blame you for his own actions.”

You look out the window on the side, watching the people on the street. “I don’t believe it,” you note, although this sentence is meant more to you than him.

“I thought you were smarter than this.” Your attention snaps back to him when he reaches out to touch your hand. “Take it seriously. Please.”

“Okay.” You look down at his hand, having a hard time deciding how the way his thumb massages your skin makes you feel. It certainly makes you think, and you don’t shy away from bringing it up. “We should probably talk about the elephant in the room,” you tell him.

But Hotch suddenly pulls his hand away and parks the car in front of a coffee shop. Even though he gets out, you stay behind, staring ahead as you think about this. Maybe you should tell them you’ll take care of your own protection, you won’t need their help any longer. It would be easier for everyone.

Eventually, you catch up, but after you both place your orders, there’s an argument about who’s gonna pay, although he shuts you down with a single look. So, you give up the fight and decide to remain silent until you arrange your trip to your holiday house in Aspen.

Then you take a seat in a booth, and he starts talking unexpectedly. “I thought we were having a fresh start, like we didn’t know each other at all,” he says, continuing the conversation that ended so abruptly in the car.

“You started that this morning when you introduced yourself like I was a complete stranger, I just played along,” you respond, although you’re having a hard time figuring him out.

He lets out a sigh, his fingers drumming on the side of the cup as he watches you. “I didn’t know where we stood after that night.”

“You disappeared, Hotch. You asked for my number and never called. I thought I misunderstood what happened, so I decided to move on, but don’t think it didn’t hurt.”

“I wanted to call you, but then I had one case after another and realized I don’t have the time to maintain a relationship you would deserve.”

You can’t help but snort. “You could have told me that instead of ignoring me completely.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you can tell he’s being honest now.

It doesn’t make sense to you. He’s been sending you mixed signals since you met again in the morning, and deep down you want to clarify the situation before leaving. “Tell me this,” you begin as you lean closer over the table. “If you wanted to act like we didn’t know each other, why did you become so overprotective? Because that’s what you’ve been all day long; forcing me to come with you, keeping me in your office, and taking me out to get coffee.”

Hotch stops to think. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. I know it’s probably hard to believe, but that’s the truth. I like you, and every time I read an article about you, or watch one of your interviews, I think about what things could be like.”

“I wish you hadn’t disappeared on me back then.”

“We can fix that now,” he says softly as he reaches out to take your hand.

But you don’t like the idea of him touching you, so you pull your hand away as you look elsewhere. “I’m not sure if I want it now. Maybe it’s already too late.” You can hear him let out a long sigh, which makes you turn back to him. “Look, when we get back, I’ll call a friend of mine to send someone who will escort me to my holiday house in Colorado. I’ll take my jet, it will be safe.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, Hotch,” you point out.

“I know, but you can’t leave. We don’t know when we’ll need you to help us with something. So, no, you’re not leaving. In fact, you’ll stay in my apartment, because I can’t leave you in the office.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

He raises his eyebrows as he looks at you, as if you’ve just made a stupid joke. “No.”

••••••••••

You decided to be a good girl and didn’t put up a fight when he told you it was time to leave the office at the end of the day. You didn’t argue when he ordered food for dinner. You weren’t hostile when he started a conversation. You played his game, just like he expected you to, as if you understood why he was so keen on keeping you close.

You even offered him a chance to lure Hayes to the party your company was holding for the employees the next day. When he agreed to do it on the condition of him and his team attending too, you said good night, and went to sleep. But that didn’t last long, the moment you heard his bedroom door close, you sneaked out and returned to your office.

But the next day he found you. You were sitting behind your desk, signing a couple of documents your assistant left behind for you, when you heard footsteps getting closer.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he yelled, walking around your desk to stand right in front of you.

Morgan raised his hands to calm him down. “Hotch,” he warned his boss, but it felt like he didn’t say a word.

Because he completely ignored the other man, instead he focused on you, his eyes burning a hole into you. “You disappear in the middle of the night without a word? No one knew where you went, he could have found you!”

“Hotch, calm down, she’s safe.”

“Morgan, stay out of this, please.”

“Am I arrested?” you ask, keeping your voice calm and quiet.

He looks back at you. “No, but—”

“Then I can go wherever I want,” you tell him. “I don’t need your permission. Hell, you don’t even have proof that he’s after me.”

“But he could be, which is more than enough.”

“Unless you want to arrest me, please, leave the building. If you don’t, I’ll ask security to escort you out,” you inform him, already reaching for your phone to make the call if needed.

Hotch’s eyes soften, and you can see his desperation. “Don’t do this,” he asks you.

Silence follows his words, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning this one. So, rolling your eyes, you close your laptop and stand up, already moving past him to reach the hallway. If they want to stay, then fine, let them stay, but you’ll sure as hell not stick around. He doesn’t try to stop you, neither does Morgan, although you can feel both men watching as you disappear on the hallway.

You barely reach the first corner, though, when you find yourself face to face with Hayes, the very man they’ve been trying to protect you from. Fuck. But maybe you’re lucky, maybe he’s only here to pick something up from his office, maybe it’s a meeting, maybe it’s anything other than the need to hurt you. Flashing a friendly smile at him, you say, “John, I thought you were on leave.”

“There’s something I have to take care of,” he says, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you.

“Okay. I’ll spend most of the day in my lab, so if you need anything, you kn—” You don’t finish the sentence, because he suddenly pulls out a gun and points it at you. “John, put that away,” you try weakly.

Hayes closes the distance between you to grab your arm and yank you towards the stairs. “Come with me.”

“There are innocent people here, don’t do something you would regret later.”

“This has to be done,” he says, and you can hear the determination in his voice, mixed with a hint of insanity.

Before you could get far, though, you’re both stopped by a familiar voice when Hotch's angry voice cuts through the air. “Hayes, let her go,” he instructs.

The man steps behind you and pushes the barrel of the gun at your head. “No! Take one step closer and I’ll shoot her.”

“You only wanted to protect her and the company, didn’t you? Killing her would ruin your plan,” Morgan tries to reason, although you’re not quite sure he’s in the right state of mind to process that properly.

“She doesn’t appreciate what I do for her.”

“I’m sure she does.”

“No! She didn’t say thank you after I punished those people, she didn’t even answer my calls and messages.”

You gulp, feeling like this whole mess is your fault, that maybe if you talked to him, you would’ve found out what he did sooner. “John, please,” you beg him.

“Shut up!”

Before anyone else could speak up, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye when the assistant of one of the deputy CEO’s steps out of the main meeting room, and she cries loudly when she notices the weapons. “What’s—Oh my god!” she says, her voice laced with panic.

This averts Hayes’s attention, and he lets go of you just enough to give Morgan the chance to shoot him. You look down at the body on the floor, blood pooling around him as the agent comes closer to check his pulse. “He’s dead,” he announces, turning to his boss before looking back at you.

You’re crying, you can’t stop yourself, and you’re only pulled out of your spiraling thoughts by Hotch’s worried voice as he moves closer and extends his arms. “Come here.” You don’t even think about it, you only follow your instincts and let him pull you into a tight hug. “He can’t hurt you anymore, you’re safe,” he whispers to you, then turns to his colleague. “Morgan, take care of this, I’ll take her back to her office.”

“Okay, you got it,” comes the answer.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to come with me,” you note as you step away from him and wipe the tears away. “Would you like me to evacuate the building?”

“No, only close this floor.”

“Sure.”

Hotch grabs your shoulders and turns you back to face him. “Look at me.” When you do, he goes on, his voice soft and worried. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you mumble.

“You’re pushing me away, but you shouldn’t be alone now.”

You shrug. “Then Morgan could stay by my side until you are ready to let me go.”

“Hey, I think it would be better if you stayed with Hotch,” the agent says.

“What did I do to you? Did I hurt you?” you ask him, sounding as serious as you manage in this situation.

Morgan groans as he rolls his eyes at you. “Come on.”

“You’re childish, and stubborn, and getting on my nerves now,” Hotch states impatiently. “Let’s go, I need to ask you a few questions.”

“About what?”

“About Hayes holding you at gunpoint.”

“But you saw what happened.”

“Not the whole thing.”

Since there is nothing you can do considering you’re expected to work together with them, you follow him to your office, where you lean against the desk with your arms defensively folded over your chest. “You’re overreacting,” you inform him.

Hotch scoffs, giving you a disapproving look. “You left my house and he almost murdered you. Since when does being worried about you count as overreacting?”

“And why are you worried? Who am I to you exactly?” you ask in an attempt to challenge him.

He watches you for a short while, and you have absolutely no idea what’s going on inside his head. But then, out of nowhere, he places a hand on your neck and pulls you into a kiss. A soft one that’s full of emotions, something he’s been planning to do for a while now. “It’s up to you,” he says quietly, staying close to you.

“That’s emotional blackmail,” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you were telling this to yourself.

He lets out a short laugh, the big smile remaining in place. “Not quite.”

“Hotch, please, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I promise,” he says as he shakes his head. “Have dinner with me. Tonight, before I’m dragged away for work.”

“I can’t.”

You don’t miss the disappointed look on his face as he steps back. “Of course you can’t,” he notes bitterly.

Tilting your head to the side, you reach out for his hand. “Hey, the gala, remember? That’s tonight.” Finally, he remembers. “How about a deal? You join me as my plus one, and we can talk.”

“You’ll ignore me.”

“I won’t.”

“And if you do?”

A playful smile appears on your lips. “You don’t trust me?”

“I just want to make sure you keep your word,” he points out while he laces your fingers.

“Ouch. I’ll behave.”

He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead, then flashes a smile at you. “That’s all I ask of you.”

Before he could kiss you again, Morgan knocks on the door and watches the pair of you with a teasing grin on his face, but seeing the look his boss sends his way, he decides to leave this for now. Instead, he gives him an update. Despite the conversation happening in your presence, you can’t focus on their words. You’re busy studying Hotch’s face, getting lost in those eyes that caught your attention months ago. Maybe this time he’ll stick around and stop ignoring you.

Maybe this time it can work out.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you

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drewstarkeysring · 2 days ago

Text

She did what?- Drew Starkey part 2

˚⋆ ୧ ‎ ࣪ Warnings Cheating , Odessa , swearing

Summary Hollywood is so overrated, but when Larissa finds out what our beloved Drew is up to, shit hits the fan 💋

"I miss you how you made me feel last night"

"When can you leave her house already, I need you"

You're Gut feeling all your friends talked about having when they have gotten cheated on. You said to yourself you would never feel that. Drew was good to you, no signs, no evidence. Until now, you can't breathe. heartbroken is the feeling you felt.

It's been an hour, and he still sleeping.

I looked through all of the messages. He has been gone for two months, which means for those two months. He has been lying and cheating with her. The girl you hate, you knew she always talked shit to her friends when you would be with Drew at a bar. You brushed it off because you never wanted to ruin the moment.

"What are you doing on my phone," Drew says, staring at me. He is caught, and he knows it. He has been awake for the past 5 minutes.

Disbelief is all you feel, the man you loved for 2 years who you thought couldn't hurt you in a way that all your friends told you or the internet. Deeply in love with this man. The hurt you felt, and he was about to hear it.

"Are you kidding me, the shit I found on your fucking phone, you cheated on me with this bitch, be so for real right now Drew". You say

He looks like he has seen a ghost, a ghost that is about to get put through the ringer. "I don't know what to say... I'm sorry baby". He says

"Dont call me that, we done Drew, Done. I have nothing to say to you". you express

"I am gonna leave save us both the trouble". Drew says

I take his phone and throw it against the wall. It shatters. Thank God fuck that hoe. Crash out is all you think but let this motherfucker think you're calm and collected.

A few days later

Brian, your best friend, always was in a show with Odessa. You needed a friend that made you feel at home. Both you and Brian made it up together. You met him at an award ceremony and knew he would be family. He was there with you for everything: first Big Movie, First Vogue Magazine Cover, Victoria's Secret shot, and plenty of other amazing accomplishments. He gets you and always supports you through everything. A big brother that you always wanted.

"I really can't believe him, two months away from you, and you would think he was thinking of you, but no, just thinking with his Dick," Brian says, he takes a sip of his wine.

You roll your eyes. "I wanna kill her and him. Everything I gave to that man and sacrificed for him, cheating, was never on my radar for him. Especially with her, like dude, the bitch is all over him 24/7 you would think, hello, he has a girlfriend maybe I should back away and stop trying to fuck him anymore, but no, my boyfriends fucking her in Italy for two months, while his girlfriend is home waiting for him and missing him." you express in disbelief

"If I could take anything back, it would be that boundaries are a major thing, that first night I met her, I should have known that she wanted him all over him and how she would brush me away every time I would speak."

Sitting on the floor with Brian as the TV in the background was just for noise for your ears. Chineses was just ordered, and Brian brought you your favorite red wine and yap session.

"You're perfect, beautiful as people would say," Brian says jokey. He nudges your shoulder, teasing you. "Don't let this silly man drive you crazy you have major things coming for you, accomplished many, and our the people's princess if you have any takeaways with this shit, it would be he lost the baddest bitch he will ever meet. You should be proud of yourself but do not, and I mean I do not let this shit get you off your tracks, major things are happening in your life. Oscar red carpet for Anora, Fenty shoot, and Vanity Fair shoot with Lily-Rose Depp. Life has shit planned for you." He says while hugging you and reassuring you of your worries. "I love you hoe". He nudges you again.

You roll your eyes. "Love you more boo". You hug him

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey smut #rafe fluff #outer banks fanfiction #Brian Altemus

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bunnyinvanilla · 2 days ago

Note

some sort of miscommunication between price and reader where he’s stressed out and constantly checking his phone for updates for a case that’s been getting to him for months. Reader’s confused and overthinking why he’s constantly checking his phone and acting anxious even around her. Is there another girl? Are you assuming an exclusive relationship when he isn’t? He is just your sugar daddy, he’s using you and you’re using him, why are you questioning the dynamic now? This leads to her realising she wants to be committed and exclusive with price.

this THISSS is my favorite request so far. stop. i just want daddy price to be all mine mine mine and think about me me me only

you know price is a busy man, between being the captain of a military secret service unit and owning a bar, you are aware of the many responsibilities he carries. But lately, he’s been just too far off. Constantly checking his phone, always on different calls with mysterious people he cannot tell you about, you can’t help but worry.

undoubtedly, you trust him blindly and completely — but you’re also just a sensitive, vulnerable little girl. Since he’s always been able to dedicate you his full time and attention, why has he been so nervous and stressed around you lately? has he been hiding something from you?

you notice he’s not fully listening to you when you talk, hands always holding that phone instead of your waist or hand, always running a large hand through this dark, salt and pepper hair, a weary and bothered look on his face, something serious has to be on his mind.

you trust him, so why are you suddenly so concerned and afraid? what if he started talking to another girl? maybe he’s seeking a different girl’s attention? maybe that’s why he’s always checking his phone for something that you can’t know about. that thought alone makes your tummy heavy with a tight knot, and you want to cling to his leg and beg him to just be your daddy and yours alone.

has he gotten tired of you? has he found another girl to be his sugar baby? you’ve always considered your relationship to be exclusive, only between you and him, but maybe you’ve given it too much more importance and consideration than him? It started off as a plain convenience, him paying for your college, pampering and providing for everything you needed and wanted, and you giving him affection, the company of a young, pretty girl, a warm heart and a warm body to bury himself in.

but you have wanted more from the start — gosh, you know you’re practically in love with him, you want to be his only girl, you want him to be fully satisfied, focused and interested in you alone, his forever little princess :( you want him to be in love with you, that’s it.

you reading alone on his bed and him spending time in his dark office, scrambling with paperwork, you could understand, but that damn phone? gosh, he keeps waiting for someone to text him, keeping it with him all day long, and you start overthinking so much that you just want to cry your fragile little heart out, like a poor soft bunny that feels neglected by her owner.

and when you saw his phone lit up with a notification from a certain Kate, you felt your heart sink — he muttered a low, heavy “fuckin’ finally” and stood up, leaving the room to take another call, leaving you with a wobbly chin.

poor bunny you just don’t know that he’s been stressing for a complicated mission that he’s been following, and that has been getting to him for months now :(

when he came back, he found you on his spot, sitting ever so cutely with your legs underneath your bum, twirling your hair around your fingers, nervously — you looked up at him with doe, puppy eyes and took a little breath before saying “sir, you don’t..you’re not hiding something from me, are you?”

he immediately looked at you in the most disoriented way, the wrinkles behind his eyes stretching, and before you could open his mouth, you sat upright, unable to stop your anxious words to spill out. “I just- im sorry, you’re always on your phone and i get scared, please tell me you don’t have another girl, im in love with you, sir, and-“

john, having years and years of experience behind his back, having learnt how to stay calm and collected in every situation, slowly walked up to you, giving you a relaxed, slightly entertained expression.

with a slow, deliberate movement , he picked you up effortlessly, like you weighted nothing, and placed you on top of the nearest surface — you squeaked, but your eyes were still soft and preoccupied, cheeks red and warm.

“doll,” he called your name with a firm, reassuring tone, as if to placate your worrying thoughts — he took your chin between his fingers, lifting it upwards with his thumb to meet your sugary, saccharine eyes. “listen to me”

he held your chin up with his large hand, your own finding the edge of the table and gripping it. “I’ve been spending more time with my phone because im following a difficult case, and have been waiting for any update for over a month now, princess”

the roots that had clenched your heart slowly started to dissolve into tiny, light sprouts. oh.

“but..you’re always nervous and distant, I thought-“

“what did we say about letting your thoughts wander too much, love?” he squeezed your chin, giving you a lecturing look that made you tremble for a different reason, his tone was reassuring but surfaced into a lecturing one. “mmh? answer me, angel”

“that I have to..” you felt like a little lamb under his intense gaze, like a a little girl being scolded by her father when she almost got hurt and made him worry :( “..come talk to you when it happens, sir”

“exactly, good girl, sweetheart, you come talk to daddy, and don’t overthink your pretty little head”

“didn’t wanna make you upset..” you mumbled softly, his thumb stroking your bottom lip.

“you never make daddy upset, baby. I can’t tell you about my missions doll, they’re state secrets...” his eyes followed the motion of his ginger against your plush lips. “but the person I’ve been talking on the phone with is Kate, our station chief” his lips twitched into a little amused grin, you’re just so young, so naive and sweet, getting all possessive of him :(

“so you don’t…” you trailed off, blinking up at him. “I don’t have another girl, pup. Never dream of it while I have the sweetest, prettiest treat here” he chuckled, a deep, warm and rich sound.

“next time you worry, come to daddy and talk to me. Im sorry I’ve been too busy and occupied with work lately, sweetheart, but you’re the only girl in my heart and in my bed. You’re my one ‘n only sugar baby.” he pulled your chin and planted a heavy kiss on your lips.

“and about that little slip out of yours…” he grinned against your lips, making your face grow red, flame up instantly. “say that again f’me? daddy’ old, didn’t hear it well”

“that i…i’m in love with you..?”

oh of course price knew you loved him. He could tell since the first time you had laid your sweet, honeyed eyes on him that you were lovestruck. Part of him was surprised a young, innocent thing like you could spare interest for a worn, old war dog like him.

well, the other part was smug about it, he was a confident, cocky man, and he thrived on the effect he had on you — his own little princess.

“yeah, that, princess, you’ve got me wrapped around your lil finger, havent you? make this old bastard all hooked,” he’s completely drawn to you, even if he’s reluctant to admit it outright.

“you’re gonna make me marry you if im not careful enough, steal my heart, my wallet, and now my last name”

#john price x f!reader #john price x female reader #john price imagine #price x female reader #captain price x female reader #john price #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #call of duty #captain john price #tf 141

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bokutosbabe · 2 days ago

Note

*Pokes my head in through your window*

Good morning, I'm here for the 'More Than A Married Couple, But Not Lovers' event. I'll like to request 🍑+🧁 with Yukimiya Kenyu.

well good morning ! ( afternoon as this is posted )

a yukimiya kenyu peach cupcake :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° home is wherever you are

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — yukimiya kenyu x gn! reader, gn! reader, childhood friends to lovers, their moms are also best friends, reader tries to deny their feelings for yukimiya

♡ synopsis — from the second you were born, your mother swore you were meant to marry her best friends son, yukimiya kenyu. maybe they'd accept just a fake marriage?

You and Yukimiya Kenyu had been attached at the hip for as long as you could remember.

Your mothers were best friends, bonded by years of shared secrets, inside jokes, and matching visions of the future. And somewhere along the way, that vision started to include you and Yukimiya—together.

“When they grow up, they’ll get married. Mark my words,” your mom would say with a wink.

Yukimiya’s mom always chimed in with a dreamy sigh, “They’re perfect for each other. Just look at them!”

You and Yukimiya? Perfect for each other? You’d laugh it off every time.

But no matter how much you tried to ignore their teasing, the words stuck.

The years passed, and the two of you became inseparable. From sharing homework to cheering him on at soccer matches, you were there for every high and low.

You knew everything about him—the way he hummed when he was deep in thought, how he needed his tea just right, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his dreams.

And he knew everything about you.

But no matter how close you were, there was always an unspoken rule between you: don’t cross the line.

When the marriage simulation program paired you together, you’d both burst out laughing.

“Of course it’s you,” Yukimiya said, shaking his head with a small smile.

“It’s like the universe is conspiring with our moms,” you joked, though your stomach flipped at the thought of living with him for weeks.

You didn’t expect much to change. After all, you’d been friends forever. This would be just like old times—right?

It wasn’t.

Living together was different.

For one, you started noticing things you hadn’t before. Like how he always smelled faintly of citrus, or how his hair looked when he stepped out of the shower, damp and a little messy.

And then there was the way he looked at you—so soft, so open, like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. This was just Yuki. He was thoughtful, sweet—he’d always been like this.

But the more time you spent together, the harder it became to convince yourself that your feelings were strictly platonic.

It all came to a head one evening.

You were sitting on the couch, flipping through the program’s assignments, when he spoke up.

“Hey,” he said, his voice unusually tentative.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about what our moms used to say? About us getting married?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Uh, sometimes. Why?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I used to think it was ridiculous, you know? Like, they were just joking around. But…”

You waited, holding your breath.

“But now I’m starting to wonder if maybe they weren’t entirely wrong.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Yuki,” you said softly, your chest tightening.

He looked at you, his expression both nervous and hopeful. “I know this is probably the worst time to say this, but I—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I like you. More than just as a friend. I think I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Your heart felt like it was about to burst. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he admitted. “But now… I can’t pretend anymore.”

You didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly his arms were around you, holding you close.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore either,” you whispered, burying your face in his chest.

The simulation ended a few days later, but your relationship didn’t.

For once, your moms were right.

And this time, you didn’t mind one bit.

i love yukimiya so much it's unhealthy

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #airy answers asks :)#bllk x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya #kenyu #kenyu yukimiya x reader #yukimiya kenyu x reader #yukimiya x reader #kenyu yukimiya #blue lock x reader

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lunarsworld · 3 days ago

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༄˖°.࿔*:･ salty kisses

warnings: none i think pairing: percy jackson x reader summary: expected feelings arise, but confessions? who knew. a/n: first fic, it’s kinda long but i been wanting to write for a while i need insight tho

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓇼

you and percy had always been very close, from sleepovers at each other's cabins, to eating lunch together, to sparring with each other. throughout all of this you always knew you had feelings for him but out of pure fear of ruining your friendship you always kept it to yourself.

today was the same as any day, hanging around in percy’s cabin doing nothing but enjoying each other's presence. while he was on the phone, you changed into your new blue swimsuit that fit you in all the right places. you walked out of his bathroom and percy was on the phone with someone. his voice takes a pause as he glances over your body. you look at him with confusion, “what perce?” he stays silent and just stares at your face with admiration. “you know i don’t have time for your games. is there something on my face or-“

“oh it’s nothing you just look really pretty, especially in blue.” he says with his signature smirk that you’ve become so accustomed to. you roll your eyes, and start to walk towards the dock, hoping he didn’t catch the blush creeping onto your cheeks. you jump into the cold water and peek your head over the wood to look at percy who is still deep into his conversation. your thoughts begin to race and your concern grows. maybe he has a girlfriend and that’s who he’s talking to, although that would be odd as you tell each other everything. but it would explain why he had been acting weirder towards you in the past week.

unbeknownst to you though, he was talking to his mother. about you. “mom, i just don’t know what to do. i’ve liked her for years, i just don’t wanna ruin the bond we have. i also don’t wanna disappoint her and make her think i just got close with her because i like her.” he says. he glances over at the dock and see’s you peeking over. he walks closer towards you, hoping you didn’t hear his confession. “well honey, i think if she really cares about your friendship she wouldn’t ruin it for unreciprocated feelings. i’ve also seen the way you two behave with each other, and i really don’t think rejection is a possibility.” his mother says in a reassuring voice. he swings his feet over the side of the dock and smiles at you. that smile though, to you, was worth the world and more.

“ok mom, love you. i’ll let you know how it goes.” he says as he’s about to hang up. you sigh in relief as your anxiety induced thoughts come to a stop. “wait, is that sally? let me say hi!” you say and he hands you the phone. you two chat for a while as percy watches the way your face lights up. he’s always loved the way you get along with his mother, the way your face glows in the sun, and how the sun reflects against your smile. how he’s always loved you. you finally hang up the phone and he lies stomach down on the dock, leaning his head over to maintain eye contact with you. “soo, what did you guys talk about?” you say, curiously. “nothing for you to know yet.” he says with a taunting voice, and in turn you splash him with water. he takes off his blue torn shirt and jumps in after you. the water fight lasts a while until you’re both worn out. your doggy paddling because you can’t reach the bottom, and in percy’s head he can reach the bottom so he has to hold you. he grabs you by the waist and you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. with the insanely close proximity, blush begins to creep upon your face. “did you get sunburnt really fast or something.” he says. you roll your eyes and begin to look away. out of all the times for your body to sabotage you, why now? he takes his free hand and pulls your face back to his direction. the eye contact feels like a eternity with him, even though it’s only a couple of seconds.

as soon as you blink, you feel lips connecting with your own. you instinctively pull away, but upon realizing they’re percy’s lips, you pull him back in. the taste of salt strong on each others lips. you both could stay in this moment forever. however, he pulls away. “so i’m gonna take that as a good sign?” he says, nervously chuckling. “shut up idiot,” you say, pressing your lips back into his. he smiles into the kiss, and although both your fingers are pruning and the sun is setting, neither of you move. because in this moment, he’s yours and your his. and you both feel like you’re exactly where you need to be.

#lunarsworld #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #pjo fandom

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voxslays · 2 days ago

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Can I request headcanons for sinner!Adam with a sinner!s/o dying in his arms? How would he react and how would he move on, if at all?

hi! thank you for requesting. i love angsty tropes so much—especially the ‘dying in someone’s arms’ trope. i also included a Lucifer segment (mostly because I can’t help myself…) and I hope that’s okay with you! thanks! <3

ARMS TONIGHT

Adam and Lucifer with a sinner S/O who is fatally wounded during one of the exterminations and dies in their arms. Very angsty.

Adam

Adam wasn’t afraid. After the last extermination he didn’t think things could get worse. In fact, they seemed to be getting better. I mean, he met you afterall, didn’t he? He was learning to adjust to the life of a ‘lowly’ sinner. And slowly, he began to realize maybe not all sinners were bad. Don’t get me wrong, Adam still hates sinners—especially the ones at Lucifer’s bitch daughter’s tacky hotel…but then he met you. And you were always such an Angel.

Adam knew the extermination was coming up again. But the girls he raised and trained (and was like a father figure to) wouldn’t kill him. Adam knew they couldn’t even if they tried. He may have been harsh but he was really the only family they had growing up. And Lute specifically would never order his death.

But you were a different story—you were a sinner and always had been. In the angels eyes, you were a worthless piece of trash just waiting to be put out of your misery. So when extermination day rolled around—having gone through decades of exterminations, you begged Adam to hide out with you. But he refused—saying he needed to do ‘something’. So you waited for him to return.

You waited and waited until an exorcist found your hiding spot. The angel slowly impaled you with her spear. Your death was not only slow, but extremely painful. You cried out for your loving boyfriend in your last moments, but received no reply—only the muffled screams outside—And then everything went black.

Adam would return shortly after, to see your lifeless body lying in a pool of blood, a spear still lodged in your now cold chest. He would run to your lifeless body and cradle it while holding back tears. How could he be so stupid? Of course the exterminators would go after you. And Adam would forever be cursed with the knowledge that he was too late to save you from your fate.

I honestly think it would take Adam a long time to move on. It definitely did with Lillith and Eve. This man was already broken as is from the trauma of his two past wives leaving him for the same man. And now his almost third? He still has the ring he would’ve proposed to you with in his back pocket—and will now carry it with him for all time, thinking about what could’ve been.

Lucifer

Lucifer was afraid. His family had always been very important to him (that’s why he went into a depressive slump for seven-ish years when Lillith left), so of course when he had the chance to sign an agreement with heaven, stating that only sinners could be harmed by the yearly exterminations if he stayed out of their affairs and stopped causing a commotion, he signed immediately.

Luci had also never really cared for sinners. He went through all the trouble to give them free will—even getting cast away from heaven, into the dark abyss of hell—and they just chose drugs, sex and violence!? He has a long ongoing grudge against them until he meets you. You were one of the sinners looking for redemption in his daughter’s passion project—the Hazbin Hotel! And Lucifer was truly happy you wanted to support her as much as you did. You were almost a better mother than Lillith without even trying—which is truly an incredible feat.

The two of you grew closer, eventually finding reasons to meet up outside of the hotel. Lucifer was extremely nervous and closed off before, but quickly opens up to you. And somewhere inbetween the months you spend so close together, he asks to court you, which you obviously say yes to. Yay!

Anyways, before you knew it—it was extermination day. The angels had already made it loud and clear that they would attack the hotel first, and everyone was busying preparing. Alastor had made a huge green shield around the property, and everyone else was getting suited up and ready for battle. You were busy fighting an exorcist. You hear Luci call your name and you turn your head only for a split second, which is enough time for the exorcist to brutally stab you in both the thigh and through the chest.

Lucifer runs over to you tears clouding his vision as he takes out any exorcist within twenty feet of you (wow!) and cradles your dying body. The worst part is he knows he can’t save you. You’ve already lost too much blood—and while he tries to use his powers, it doesn’t help one bit. Like Adam, Lucifer is also cursed with the knowledge that he couldn’t save one of the people he loved the most in this hellhole (besides Charlie ofc).

Won’t be able to move on and will be stuck in another depressive slump for a few months at best—a few years at worst. But at least this time he has Charlie and the rest of the hotel gang (besides that radio freak Bambi) to help him through it.

A/N: I might write a part two with Alastor and Vox!

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mistressmxggot · 13 hours ago

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Chapter 7- ✰ The World Kneels to the Medardas ✰

"𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲. 𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀"

Tags: Degradation, whipping, collars, strap on

~The feeling of not wanting to leave the bed happened too often in this place. The darkness of the covers were protecting you from the outside, protecting you from her. Her lips were all you could think about. Did it really happen? It didn't seem real, or maybe you just didn't want it to be real. This had to be a manipulation tactic. You still weren't sure what her motivations were. Did she want something from you or did she just want something to play with?

The blanket beneath your hands stuck to your skin, sweat building up from the constant squeezing. Your body stung from the internal and external heat around you. You were waiting to hear Viv. She would be here soon, unfortunately.

Ambessa was an enigma. You were over always being confused and hot and annoyed and turned on and angry. The biggest problem was you didn't want to go back. You didn't want to go back to Malik, to the brothel. Babette and Sevika were the only parts you missed. The guys at The Last Drop were nice, sorta, just creepy. You missed the comfortable company. Viv was alright. She was a very nice girl. She reminded you too much of this place, of Ambessa. The thought of her was interrupted by her soft knocks.

"Come in. I guess," your shaky voice muffled by the blanket.

The sound of the door creaking open cut the silence. She padded over to the side of you, the sound a glass was followed by the door shutting. Weird. She usually spoke to you in the morning. You squeezed your eyes shut with annoyance. Oh god what now?

You slowly peeled the blanket from above you, sunlight stinging your eyes. Something felt off. Well everything always felt off here. It felt as if something bad was going to happen. You hoped you were just still embarrassed and paranoid.

Viv was at breakfast, she was just quiet. You talked to her, she answered. She wasn't particularly cold or dismissive, just odd. You hoped it was just you.

The morning was spent drawing in your room. The solidarity is what you needed. After lunch, Ambessa passed you on your way to the library. Her face was bare of makeup and her hair was wet. She must have come out of the bath. She hadn't passed you one glance. She looked happy. She might have had someone with her. God, why did you care?? It was none of your buisness anyway. Your eyes stayed glued onto her as she passed. You had promised yourself you wouldn't care or you would at least pretend, and you were failing at both. You needed to spent time for you.

The library was quiet and it eased your agitated mind. The books you dabbled in created a stack onto the table next to you, none having been finished. Whatever you tried, the thought of her seemed to always overpower it. A bath would do you good. You needed to take time just for you because you were worth it. You weren't an extension of her. You were your own person, with your own life, and your own thoughts. Viv had prepared everything for you, including all the products.

The steaming bath was filled with baby pink foam and sea salt and it was exactly what you needed. The bath warmed your muscles and softened your skin. You decided on shaving. It wasn't that annoying and it felt good to be smooth. You just wanted to pamper yourself. The bath lasted very long, promting you many times to almost fall asleep. It had to have been hours of relaxation and shaving and washing and exfoliating. You just sat on your bed, in your robe. You weren't thinking about anything in particular. For once, your mind was "empty".

When it came time for dinner, you prepared yourself to see her, although that always seemed impossible. You bullied a single piece of a bean, pushing it around your plate. Hunger always disintegrated when she was with you. You glanced at her a couple times. Her outfit seemed more...revealing tonight. It was a layed back gown, showing her arms and legs. Eat your food, don't focus on her.

In your night gown, you layed in bed, staring at the wall. You head was buried in the crook of your elbow as your feet nervously shook. Your thighs brushed together. You had to get out of here. You squirmed and twisted. It was always at fucking night you lost your mind. You shot up from your bed. You had to take a walk.

You left your room, the hallway mostly dark. This hallway was giving you flashbacks to that night. Rictus watched you pass her room. You slowed and then came to a stop. Weren't you going to go for a walk? You came to her door, glancing at Rictus. He looked back at you, eyes unreadable. You hurried past her door again and all of the sudden you were back, staring at Rictus. He looked back at you, eyes unreadable. The door to your bedroom slammed shut, your body slumping against it. Soon you were back in the hallway and then you were at her door once more. Rictus didn't look at you this time. You couldn't tell if he sighed or not.

"Don't judge me!" You whisper yelled at him and stomped towards your room.

Your bedroom door looked oddly similar to Ambessa's door. Rictus looked at you once more. This was ridiculous. You were supposed to be taking a walk. You were supposed to not care. Just masturbate and go to bed. But that isn't what you wanted. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, head laying in your hands. Don't do this. Don't fucking- You knocked on her door. You waited and waited, your foot shaking. This was a bad idea. Go to bed. The door unexpectedly opened, her annoyed face infront of you. Your eyes ran over her body. You looked at her large biceps and her large hands, her plump lips and breasts, her thick thighs and wide hips. She giggled, your staring flattering her. Her head tilted and she moved to the side, letting you inside. You stood in the open doorway as she returned to her bed. She looked back to you, eyebrows raised.

"Yes?"

You slowly closed the door, your eyes looking back to her. She was lounging on her bed, and you approached her. You stopped nervously a couple feet away from her, not taking your eyes off of her.

"Do you want something?"

You gulped. She stood, taking long, heavy strides towards you.

"Sit."

And you did, the bed sinking underneath you. Her knuckles brushed against your jaw, her thumb finding it's way to your lips. You sucked her thumb in, keeping your eyes on hers. Her eyes held amusement, but also maybe pity? Disdain? She pulled her thumb from your mouth and forced to you stand.

"Follow me."

She fetched a key from her drawer, leading you out of her bedroom. Your anxiety hiked and your breath quickened as she stopped at the other forbidden locked door. What were you thinking? This was a terrible idea. She unlocked and opened the door, shame taking over you as your stomach coiled and you felt like folding into yourself. The room was filled with every nightmare you ever had, but they weren't exactly "nightmares". The walls were covered in chains, ropes, whips, and paddles. The tables are what really surprised you. They were filled with dildos of different sizes, vibrators, which many you couldn't even imagine how to use them, and collars. The size of some of those dildos made you doubt if you were even still alive. Y'know, maybe she had killed you and you were just in Hell. It had to be Hell. There a literal cage in the right corner of the room. It had to be for a human, it was far larger than a dog kennel, and you swallowed hard.

"We'll start small, teach you obedience."

She grabbed a collar and a whip. She was truly insane. The more time went on, the more she showed you, the more you began to regret your decision. After she had closed and locked the door, the two of you returned to her room. Viv had passed you two and you had quickly averted your gaze. You didn't to see her facial expression, it was too humiliating. She stopped you after you entered her room, keeping your back glued to the door with her body so close.

"Pull your hair back."

You slowly lifted your hair, holding it up for her. She hummed and smiled, locking the collar around your neck. It was red with gold accents, solidifying her claim onto you. You weren't exactly sure why you were doing this. You were horny yes, but you couldn't tell if that was what you wanted to satisfy. This realization made you squirm uncomfortably. She stepped back from you.

"Kneel."

Her thick voice was laced with lust, her eyes hungry. You sighed, begging eyes looking at her. You obeyed and dropped to your knees. The two of you just looked at eachother, you at her feet, her looking down onto you. You felt yourself pulse with need. You were so wet. She left you there and sat on the foot of her bed, clutching the whip.

"Come."

Your breath wavered. You felt lightheaded. Anger flashed through her eyes as you stood up and began towards her. She closed the distance and roughly pulled you backwards. Your knees stung as she forced you onto all fours.

"Ow!" You hollered when she smacked the whip against your rear.

She grunted in response. Again she was at the foot of the bed.

"Come."

Oh here we go. She wanted you to crawl to her didn't she? You were such an idiot for this. You sighed and kept your eyes to the ground, coming towards her. She groaned loudly, making you stop nervously. She pulled you back again, shoving you again to the ground.

"Look at me, and come."

The whip hit you five times, irritating you. Get out of this fucking room. Instead you crawled to her, eyes staring at hers. You sat between her large thighs and waited.

"Hm. Good. Stand and go sit onto the bed."

She came to where you were sitting and softly caressed you neck and jaw.

"Open your mouth."

She leaned down and spit into your mouth, a smile on her face. It made you moan aloud, your fingers playing with your nightgown. You greedily swallowed.

"Do you want this little lamb?"

"Yes please Ms Medarda." You answered a little too quickly and your cheeks grew red.

"Hm." Her eyebrows knitted in disapproval.

Two of her thick fingers yanked at your collar, pulling you roughly towards her.

"Do not call me by my name. It's Ill-mannered coming from an undercity whore. It will be mistress, understood?"

Her vile words should have angered you, but you knew they didn't the way you pulsed.

"Yes M- mistress."

"Good."

She gazed at you, her eyes holding some sort of approval or pride. It was probably pride.

"Kneel."

You sunk to the spot between her legs, and she sat onto the bed. Your heart beat faster and you uncomfortably shifted between her legs. She slowly removed her night gown and there she was. This was the last first time you saw her like... naked naked. She was just as beautiful as you imagined. Her entire body was so built. Her thick thighs ran into her large calves and hid her slick folds, covered in curls. You wanted to taste her so bad. Her tight abs moved with her breathing and you gawked at her breasts. You just wanted to touch her. Her hand grabbed at you hair and pulled. She pushed her hips out towards you, thighs spreading open. God you wanted this so bad. This was the best decision you had ever made. Your tongue ran over her slit and you moaned into her. All you could do was shove yourself further into her, sticking your tongue into her soaked hole. She sighed loudly and you continued to eat her. She was sweet and ripe like a delicious fruit. You wanted to do well for her, you wanted to make her feel good. As much as you despised it, you wanted her approval so bad. The suction of your lips around her clit made her groan and it egged you on. Your nails were digging into her thighs and you were practically shaking.

"God you needed this so bad didn't you little lamb?"

You hummed into her cunt and she laughed at you. Her arrogance, her body, the way she talked, it all made you more wet. You wanted your body on hers, this just wasn't enough. She stood up and pushed you into her, roughly fucking your face. She was soon cumming, moans rolling out of her mouth.

"Fuck yes. Oh god fuck."

You continued to suck, eyes squeezed shut with content and pure joy. The sweet juices that poured out of her were quickly sucked up by your greedy mouth. You drank her, your body tingling with happiness and want. She pulled her folds from you and you whined. This made her happy.

"I knew you would be the perfect toy." She laughed at your desperate face.

"This is the best meal you've ever eaten, nothing like the filth you can get where you're from."

God you were so horny. Every dirty comment she made just made it worse and that made you embarrassed. The embarrassment just made you more horny and this was a viscous cycle. You wanted to hate her, you truly did.

Viv's soft and familiar knocks were at the door. You quickly covered yourself behind her large leg. She glanced at you with a smirk on her face.

"Come in."

Oh lord. Oh no. Ambessa please don't do this. Viv slowly creeped inside and she looked at you. There was luckily no judgment, but her gaze held something else. She grabbed your jaw to turn your eyes to her.

"Go sit there, and stay." She motioned to a spot by the wall with finger.

You went, cheeks red and eyes on the floor. "Vivian come here sweetness."

What? Viv shut the door and came to Ambessa. They looked at eachother and Ambessa's hands roamed her waist. Are you fucking kidding me?

"Have you missed me sweetheart?"

Viv laughed. "Of course Ms Medarda."

Frustrated shame sat in your throat. Viv kissed Ambessa and her hands ran over her breasts. Her fingers tweaked and pinched her nipples. This was so frustrating. Why did she get to touch her? How long has this been happening? The things Ambessa said began to make you angry.

"Go fetch my favorite and come back." Ambessa handed her the same key to the room and they smiled at eachother.

Vivian left you two alone again. She didn't even pay you a glance. She just rested on her bed like you weren't even there, like she didn't just come all over your mouth. You let out a loud sigh that demanded attention. She just looked at the door, face unmoving. Vivian returned with a strap on. You glared at her yet she didn't even look at you. What were all those conversations you had? Was everything a lie? You should leave the room. Maybe you were being dramatic. Ambessa wanted you, not her. Right? Vivian slipped on and tightened the strap onto her hips. This was new.

Ambessa layed back onto her bed, thighs spread open. She finally looked to you.

"Come here."

Vivian sat onto the bed and you crawled next to her, still looking at Ambessa.

"Suck. Get it ready for her."

You glared at her, dumbfounded. She gave you a warning look and grabbed her whip.

"Do you need another lesson on obedience?"

You sighed loudly and looked at Vivian. She had a smug smile that made you irritated. Just get it over with and you and Ambessa can be alone. You crawled between Vivian's legs, gaze averted from the both of them. You sucked the strap into your mouth. The shame only got worse, and you began to question your entire life. You growled when Vivian pushed your head further down and you slightly gagged. She shouldn't be touching you, Ambessa should. She pushed her hips forwards a couple time and then pulled you mouth off, spit falling down your chin. You looked to Ambessa with watery eyes. She looked back with half lidded, a smirk on her face.

"Go back to where you were."

You returned to your spot by the wall, much to your disapproval. Vivian crawled to Ambessa and positioned the strap to cunt. Did you have to fucking watch this? She slowly slid in and Ambessa grabbed at her arms. You began to dissociate. Her loud moans filled the room, mocking you. Clapping is also what you heard and they talked to eachother. She probably came or whatever, you just wanted Vivian out of the room. Angry was an understatement to what you felt for her. You watched her leave the room and turned back to Ambessa. She was slick with sweat, panting hard, eyes closed. So....uhm...

"You can go now."

...

"What?"

She tossed the key to the collar towards you, along with the whip.

"Go put this back, and go."

You felt your chest get tight. She had to be joking. She opened her eyes and looked at you, clearly annoyed.

"Go on."

You stood up, your legs weak. You shakily held the key and left the room. There was a knot in your throat and your eyes burned. You stared at the floor, the walk to that dumb room felt so long. The key was left in the keyhole when you arrived. You yanked the collar off and threw it onto the table with that stupid whip. You hurried back to your room and you just couldn't hold it. You began to cry. It wasn't particularly sadness, it was anger and shame and embarrassment and betrayal. You were horny and frustrated. Again you were angry under the covers. You hated her. You humiliated yourself. She humiliated you. You were so beyond stupid.

The ceiling was your TV for the entire next morning. You didn't eat breakfast. No one had came for you and you were glad. If you saw Vivian, you would have torn her head off. And again, you heard knocking.

"Vivian for your own safety, go away."

Someone else entered, another girl. You scoffed at her.

"Hi miss. I'm here to invite you to dance."

"I'm not in the mood."

She sighed. "Vivian is not around. Come with me. It will be fun."

Y'know what sure. This bed wasn't making you feel any better, but dancing always did. You quickly threw something comfy on and followed her. You didn't talk to her or ask her anything. It just wasn't worth it. No more making friends here.

Finally, peace. You danced with her for hours. She was nice enough and alot more professional than Vivian. Laying on your back, you slowly breathed in and out. You would get out of here. You were going to leave, you didn't care what she said. It was decided. Tomorrow you would pack and use the left over money she gave to get home. This had gone on for far too long. You didn't want to run in circles anymore. You turned your head to the entrance of the dance room and there she was again, just like before, watching you.~

You. Always. Masterlist.

Ik i said this would come out sooner. I just love lying! I promise these next 2 chapters will be good. Still not the climax yet. More is to come (literally)

Taglist: @maaaaaaaaaaari , @ivorydevil , @trizxyp , @ambessaswifey , @randomstuffthatdontmakesense , @simplyxwwww , @last-dropsevi , @vffantasy, @fruitfulfashion , @trexsuit , @youngtastemakerfart

Lmk to be added.

#ambessa medarda #arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa #ambessa league of legends #ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa x reader #ambessa smut #ambessa x you

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ghostf1ux · 7 hours ago

Text

The Gotham River is Not Your Friend

Day 13: Hypothermia

Word Count: 5.6k

TW/CWs: Medical inaccuracies probably

-------------------------------------------------------

So, here's the thing.

All things considered, Jason would not have still been here if it weren't for Tim, his replacement (so to speak, they've long since gotten past that), who insisted he needed their help. Which isn't to say he wouldn't have been here at all, he just wouldn't have been here for this long.

It was just a simple job. Black Mask was getting a weapons shipment, and Jason planned to yoink it for his own operation. It was only three trucks, nothing he can't handle on a good night, and tonight was a good night!

But then him and fucking East End showed up in a cloud of smoke and mirrors or whatever the saying is, and everything was plunged into chaos.

“I said I had this handled–!” Jason hisses into the comm, simultaneously taking careful shots at any Mask goons he can see from his place in the support beams of the bridge connected mid and lower Gotham together.

“Intel says they have more explosives and people than you were planning for, so B sent us to step in, just in case it was a trap!” Tim retorts. Jason rolls his eyes at the red and black whirl of motion that's working on the outskirts of the crowd, jumping down just in time to land on someone who was about to get the drop on Tim.

“I've dealt with a lot more in a much worse condition,” Jason snaps, not even looking over to nail someone in the kneecap with a rubber bullet. “I don't need your fucking help, so back off.”

Tim's face twists into something incredulous, gesturing around wildly with his staff. “Not even B would go into something like this without backup! It's too risky, there's too many variables–”

“Oh yeah, like your inability to cover your own ass–”

“Yes, yes, girls, you're both pretty, can you focus back in on the actual fight?” Stephanie cuts them both off over comms, a smirk evident in her voice at how both brothers snap their mouths shut. “I'd like to get home at a reasonable time tonight.”

“Shoulda picked a different job then,” Jason snarks, pointedly shoving Tim out of his way with one finger before jumping back into the fight. Tim scoffs obnoxiously, but doesn't comment further than that.

“Or maybe I should've picked different coworkers. Oh wait.”

Tim makes a noise of offense while Jason just grins. Their comms dissolve into occasional banter while they mow down the groups of Black Mask goons, splitting up to speed up the task.

This works great until Tim decides to antagonize the second truck, which just so happens to apparently have more people with bigger guns than all the others. Jason is quick to hop in to help him, but their moment of actual strategic thought makes them both wary of getting close too quickly. Unfortunately, some of the ones from the third truck are peeling off to sandwich them, so they're kind of out of options.

“Shit, Spoiler needs help, you got this, Hood?”

Jason ponders this while taking shots at the goons, just barely missing getting grazed simply because of the sheer quantity of bullets he has to dodge. “Yeah, I got it. Go save your girlfriend or whatever. I'm taking off after this, got plans, so don't expect me to stick around.”

“Ex!” Steph shouts indignantly, loud enough that he can heat it even without the comm. He snickers, ducking behind the nearest cover he can find to let them unload their bullets.

“Yeah, whatever, just tie them up when you're done,” Tim sighs.

“Overrated. I'll just make it so they can't walk. Way easier.”

Tim sighs tiredly again, his exhaustion showing through despite his small age. And yes, it is a small age, it doesn't matter that he's only two years younger than Jason.

Regardless, it's his turn to sigh when the goons are still firing. “Alright, fuck this,” Jason mutters under his breath, pulling out a grenade and flicking the pin away before lobbing it over their heads, directly under the truck. At the same time he hops the bit of concrete he'd been using as cover and rushes in while they're distracted, cutting through as many as he can get through with his knives.

It's at this moment the grenade goes off, and the words more explosives than you planned for echo in his mind.

At first, there's a wave of heat. Then there's a sense of whistling wind outside his ringing ears, and maybe he's in the air? His feet aren't touching anything, but he can't see so who really knows. Distantly, he tries to breathe, and registers that he can't.

Huh.

That… that's not good, is it?

It's a distant thought, one that flits around in his mind before dissipating into nothing.

There's something else.

He's missing something.

What is he missing–

Jason's mouth opens in a silent scream as he's enveloped in something cold– no, cold doesn't even begin to describe it. It's sharp, stabbing, like a million knives are driving into his skin at every angle, digging into every pore and shredding through his muscle until it can chip away at the bone underneath. Whatever breath he had managed to get is gone in an instant when his back hits the icy chill and suddenly he's surrounded by it on all sides, pressing in on him and suddenly everything is screaming at him–

Water.

Bridge.

Explosion.

Fuck.

Almost on autopilot, maybe something closer to instinct or desperate habit, Jason claws his way– up? Is he going up? He can't see, his vision is still filled with white spots and everything is so cold it just drags him down, down, down–

Hands churn relentlessly through the way with a force that borders on impressive. He's insistent in his movements despite the way the icy tendrils of water pull at him, try to slow him down, the way they fill his mouth and his nose and fuck it's just like that night all over again and fuck why is this the third fucking time he's had to go through something like this–

Gloved fingers claw and tear against the current and now his chest is starting to burn, it's so hot despite all the cold, it makes him so tired, so exhausted and he can't kick his legs, he can't make it easier, he's trying but he can't fucking move his legs–

He bumps against something hard above him. He latches onto it with a death grip, pulling it towards him despite the obvious resistance and shoves it under his chest and suddenly he's gasping for air as he breaches the surface, coughing up what water made its way into his mouth. He drapes himself over the piece of wood he grabbed, heaving in wheezing breaths as he tries to regain some sense of an ability to breathe.

As soon as he has even close to the amount of breath needed, he screams. It's loud, he thinks, by the way his throat is raw and hurting afterwards, but it's hard to tell with everything else. The edge of the wood digs into his (probably cracked now) ribs, and each movement in the water, each little wave, sends stabs of burning agony up and down his spine. Probably has to do with whatever is preventing him from moving his legs.

It's probably important.

Jason dismisses it for now.

The white spots flitting across and blocking his vision are starting to dissipate, though it's slow. He's able to make out an orange glow in the distance, and has some feeling of… recognition? To it. It's weird. There's something there. Something that matters. Something that–

Jason whimpers– he allows himself the indignity, the moment of weakness, seeing as he's completely fucking alone– when a shiver rips through his body. There's a steady pulsing– his heartbeat– coming from his body and–

Hm. Well, at least he's alive, because if his heartbeat wasn't coming from his body, then there would be some much bigger issues than whatever he's got going on right now.

He finds himself grinning at that, vaguely aware of how his teeth chatter together.

It's about the little things, like making yourself mentally laugh because the reality of the situation is that if you laughed out loud you'd probably scream. Again.

Squinting at the dark horizon, Jason is struck with the thought of wasn't that orange blob a lot bigger a moment ago?

But, like the rest of his thoughts in recent memory, it slips through his fingers like smoke. Or, to be more relatable to the situation at hand, the thoughts slip through his fingers like little blocks of ice that shatter at the impact of them hitting the ground.

Actually, that's super accurate, because Jason just did that! Minus the shattering. Maybe. He hopes.

Jason blinks slowly as he comes to the realization that his feet and hands are completely numb, and the sensation is crawling up his legs and arms. It doesn't help with the pain much, seeing as it isn't really in his hands or feet, but hey, maybe it'll help once it gets to his hips? Those things are causing him a world of pain right now and with how the bones and joints grind together in places they shouldn't be and it would just be really helpful–

Oh.

Maybe that's why he can't move his legs. Maybe his hips are dislocated.

Some vaguely gruff voice grunts in the back of his mind and he sags into the wood, all the fight leaving him at once. Or maybe he already did that. He takes this as an agreement, and decides to move on before he gets the urge to scream again.

Time is a weird soup and Jason doesn't have the mental capacity to unpack all that right now.

His chest hurts, a lot, but not as bad as his hips. There's the general feeling of pain that's widespread throughout his body focused on his chest, sure, but there's also little pinpricks of pain that manage to male it through every so often when he isn't nearly blinded with everything else.

Ooh, and his face is wet. Like, a warm wet. Not a cold wet. Usually. His head is laid on his arms, folded over the broken and burned piece of wood– when did that happen? Who knows, because Jason certainly couldn't tell you– and sometimes the little waves come up and splash him, washing away that warm wet with the icy cold wet, but there's a consistent flow of the warmth regardless. His eye is closed because of it, he knows that, but he can't really tell what it is because every time he tries to think about it his head starts pounding and his chest constricts further somehow and his eyes start burning and fuck it hurts, it hurts so bad, everything fucking hurts please I need help–

Yeah, no. Not touching that with a ten foot pole. It's easier to just… drift.

Drift, with the vague feeling of agony riddled in every fucking inch of him.

Drift, with the stabbing numbness crawling up his thighs and biceps now, and he knows he should do something about that but he just can't bring himself to fucking move–

Drift, and just let it all float away. Let it all fade to the background. Just breathe, and feel the way his heartbeat pulses as his body tries to start healing itself or keep itself warm, listen to the incessant ringing in his ears, and–

Wait.

Is someone calling his name?

“HOOD!?”

That feels like a name he's supposed to answer to. It sounds like someone's in trouble, or hurt, maybe?

“Oh shit, yeah, okay, um– I'll get you out of here, just gimme a sec, yeah? Yeah, okay, okay…”

He'll get right on that, oh scared citizen. Just… as soon as he can bring himself to unfreeze his limbs and move.

------------------------

Man, fuck high school. Fuck English class specifically.

Duke groans as he lets his head fall back against the shitty bench he's sitting on, a dull thunk the only sound resonating from the action. It's fuckass early in the morning and he still isn't done with his damn essay that's due today. Only reason he's out here is so he can get a breather from staring at his screen all night, and hopefully stave off the headache that's been building for the past four hours.

The crisp spring breeze floats across Duke's face, partially hidden by the coat he's wearing to stay warm. As far as Gotham goes, it's actually a fairly decent temperature out, especially considering it's late March, but he doesn't feel like being cold for no reason so the heavy jacket it is.

And really, he just needed the fresh air. Which is an oxymoron because, once again, it's Gotham, but this is the closest he can get. This park right on the edge of the Narrows provides for a great backdrop to Duke's misery, scant trees and a small field serving as the foreground for the view into the Gotham River that splits middle and lower Gotham into its respective islands.

He sighs, slumping and gazing out into the river. In the distance, there's a plume of yellowy-orange that's slowly growing smaller. Must've been an explosion, no doubt one of the Bats. Probably Hood, if he's being honest. Based on what Duke's observed, he's the most likely one to cause an explosion by far, and the Narrows being his territory definitely doesn't protect it from that. Usually he's pretty careful about it though (honestly, to a level that's really impressive) so no one really minds all that much. Not like he's killing anymore, so he's probably gotta get his fix somehow.

Not that it matters much to Duke. It's not like he knows the guy, or any of the Flock for that matter. The most he's seen is the couple glimpses here and there, and what everybody's seen whenever they're on the news.

Regardless.

He's supposed to be relaxing for a bit, not thinking about all the rampant crime in the city he (unfortunately?) calls home.

Looking out over the river, he falls into an easy trance watching the little waves rippling out over the expansive surface. For once, it's not cloudy, so the moonlight reflects off the murky grey-brown-green water. Silvery white and red shines brightly against the dark background and–

Wait.

Pause.

Roll that back.

Duke blinks a couple times, squinting. There shouldn't be red in the water. Nothing that shines that brightly anyways. If it were blood, it would be way darker and he probably wouldn't even be able to see it. If it were some kind of cloth, it wouldn't just be that speck of color, and it wouldn't be shiny.

He rubs his eyes again, standing up.

When he looks again, he can see a dark blob mostly in the water behind the little dot of red. A little dot of red that's slowly drifting closer.

That's–? No, it can't be…

Right?

Duke finds himself jogging down to the water's edge, following the red spots path and yep– yep that's definitely a helmet, a very memorable helmet, one that everyone in Gotham knows at this point, but one a kid from the Narrows especially knows.

It's at this point that Duke starts running towards the steps leading down to the concrete beach, as they like to call it. His gaze stays locked on Hood's helmet in fear of possibly losing him amongst the waves, doubtful as it is. He nearly trips over the bottom step in his race to get down there.

By the time he's scaled the larger concrete steps, or benches, that lead down to the ‘beach’ proper, Hood has drifted closer. Close enough to be in earshot, maybe?

“Hood!” Duke yells, cupping his lips to make the sound travel further. “Hood, can you hear me?!”

He doesn't stir, from what Duke can tell. Fuck, what if he's dead? How am I supposed to tell the Bats one of them is dead??

No. No. He isn't dead. Just… just knocked out? Yeah, just knocked out. Hopefully.

“Hood, can you hear me?!” Duke shouts again in some vain attempt to get some sign of life from the guy. “HOOD?!”

It's miniscule, but his head shifts, just enough for it to have been purposeful and not just the waves. Duke smiles, but his anxiety skyrockets. Okay, okay, so he's alive, but he's gotta be super injured for this to be his reaction to Duke yelling his name at the top of his lungs in the fucking Narrows. This has gotta be some new level of stupid, now everyone who might've heard him is gonna know Hood is out here, and if they were able to tell Duke's distress then they'll know he's hurt–

No. Focus. Get him out of the water, deal with everything else later.

The frigid water laps at Duke's shoes as he gets closer, close enough that even from where the vigilante is at least fifteen yards out, he can see the blood shining on his face where a giant gash cuts through his helmet and the domino underneath, staining the white streak red. It looks like the domino might be cut through too, based on the sheer amount of blood that still steadily flows from the wound.

When he's finally close enough that Duke can get a better look at him, he can feel his heart drop out of his chest at the man's state, at least what little he can see. There are tears in his jacket and armor where he can see all the way through to skin, and the fabric is singed, charred in some places, mostly around his shoulder and arm. His breaths are slow, shallow, wheezing things that make Duke's gut twist in worry.

“Oh shit, yeah, okay, um– I'll get you out of here, just gimme a sec, yeah? Yeah, okay, okay…” Duke's hands flutter uselessly as he decides what to do. There's a vigilante– and not just any vigilante, the fucking Red Hood– washing up practically dead on the southwest beach of the Narrows, coming from some mission gone wrong, and if he's right about the general amount of time he's spent in the water, he highly doubts the rest of his Flock knows something's wrong, and that's not even considering Hood's trademarked independence from them all (which has gotten better in recent history as far as he knows, but it's definitely still a thing).

Long story short: this is a side of Hood that no one outside his family should be seeing and he doesn't know what to do.

“Okay, okay, one thing at a time. Get him out of the water, someplace safe and preferably warm,” Duke mutters to himself. Hood is freezing to the touch, and it's no wonder the man is practically vibrating with shivers. He manages to work his arms underneath Hood's and gently– well, as gentle as he can be with someone who's way too big and way too fucking heavy– lifts him and starts dragging him out of range of the waves. His head lolls and his body stays limp, like a doll with its strings cut (and what a comforting thought that is), but his chest stutters over every inhale and is shaking in every exhale. At this angle, he can't see Hood's face, but he wouldn't be surprised to find it screwed up in pain due to whatever injuries Duke can't see.

Unfortunately for him, he isn't nearly strong enough to fully lift the– he must be pushing 300 pounds, right? There's no way he's less than 250– vigilante so he'll just have to deal with it until Duke can get him to someplace he can actually lay down.

Thankfully, even with Duke being careful, he's able to drag the man over to a shadowed corner of the concrete bench steps, where the overhang of a tree and a nearby building blot out most of the little nook, making it easy for eyes to pass over dark shapes huddled in it. It also shields against most of the breeze coming in, which is a plus.

As carefully as he can, he manages to shimmy Hood into the little nook after getting his waterlogged jacket off. He looks up at Duke with foggy, unfocused eyes that seem to drift in a haze, but still manage to convey his wariness. Duke holds his hands up placatingly.

“I'm not gonna, uh, hurt you. Don't worry. Figured you didn't want to be left in the water.” He pauses, watching Hood's half-lidded and (slightly glowing?? What the fuck???) teal-green gaze slides over him, which is, frankly, terrifying. He may have not killed in awhile but Duke still remembers the time when this was the guy who was running around Crime Alley putting heads in duffel bags.

But it doesn’t look like he’s planning to do anything like that, seeing as his exhausted gaze then settles on a point in the middle distance.

Duke lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “Okay, so um. I know you're like, injured? But how am I supposed to contact the Bats so they can pick you up? Because, uh, you're the only one that ever comes here.”

Hood's brow furrows at that, a little bit of clarity returning to his eyes. His hands painstakingly slowly drift up to his broken helmet, fingers fumbling with the back of it. Well, that's an exaggeration. His fingers aren't even moving, despite how much he's clearly trying to move them.

“Can you– can you tell me how to take it off? I don't think you're gonna be able to feel your fingers for a while,” Duke explains. Something like defeat crosses Hood's expression, but he relents.

“‘S�� ‘s th’ ‘ne–” His words slur together, sounding oddly vulnerable without the voice modulator making everything sound like a menacing drawl. He breathes out a slow, measured breath before continuing. “It's– th’ one up t'p.”

The words are still slurred together, but this time Duke can actually make them out and follow the directions. He waits patiently (considering the circumstances) for the rest of Hood's instructions, breathing out a sigh of relief when the helmet latches unlock and he can work it off the vigilante's head.

Of course, that's immediately washed over with a wave of concern when his whole face is revealed to be nearly covered in blood from the gash across the side of his face the helmet was broken on. Now that he can see both eyes, he can see the pain– no, agony hidden behind that foggy exterior. Based on the constant shivering that wracks his body, Duke would guess that it's irritating whatever injuries are under his suit and making everything worse.

Unfortunately, there's nothing Duke can do about that without Hood taking off his suit, and that sure as shit ain't happening.

What he can do is help him take off the most outer layers he doesn't need right now and drape his coat over him to block out more of the wind and hopefully help him retain some body heat.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with this?” Duke asks once Hood's a little more situated, holding up the helmet for emphasis.

“Put ‘t on,” Hood murmurs hoarsely. Seriously, what had this guy been doing, gargling broken glass? “B'tt'n ‘n ear.”

Translating that as best he can, Duke slides the helmet on (which is way too big and frankly disgusting due to river water and blood but that's not really the point right now) and taps the button as instructed. A speaker clicks to life, but all there is is crackling static that's slowly fizzling out.

“It's just static. I think your comm might be broken, dude,” Duke informs him helpfully, setting the helmet beside him but under his coat. The ghost of a sardonic smile tugs at the corner of Hood's lips and there's a sharp exhale of breath that might've been a laugh before his blood-covered jaw is clenching and his scant breaths are careful, measured, and cautious.

This leaves Duke with his thoughts, which are steadily picking up speed as he flips through possibilities. Hood's comm is out, which means there's no way to contact his team that way. Anything else he might’ve had is clearly damaged too much to use, or he would've used it already, and even if it wasn't, he's too far off mentally to answer any questions Duke could ask.

Alright then, time for other methods. How do you get a Bat's attention?

Well, the obvious answer is crime. Issue with that is, Hood's the one who patrols the Narrows. So would that even work? Who would see it?

Duke gasps as he comes to the realization. Oracle! She watches the cameras across the city! Surely if I do something in front of one, then she'll see it and I can get a message across somehow?

He nods to himself, gathering up Hood's ripped-to-shreds leather jacket and folding it over his arm so the red bat symbol is hidden.

“Okay, Hood, I've got a plan, I'll be right back. Just like– stay here, I guess. I'm gonna find a way to talk to Oracle, so she can call your family, or team, or whatever.”

Everyone knows they're a family, but again, Hood's whole independence thing makes Duke double-guess referring to them as such in front of him though.

Hood just lazily trails his gaze over to fix Duke with a stare, so distanced yet so heavy that despite his condition he's sure the man will hunt him down if he breaks his word.

Duke just nods again and backs away, racing off to the nearest closed convenience store in the area.

This late at night, it's not hard to find one. He grabs a broken pipe from the alley nearby and smashes the front door in, wincing in preparation for an alarm. Nothing rings out, the night stays just as quiet as it was before.

Yeah, no shit, Duke. It's the fucking Narrows, no one uses alarms here.

He squints at the corners where the wall meets the ceiling, and the ceiling itself for cameras. Speedwalking through the aisles in his search, he pauses when he finds a shitty first aid kit. He grabs it.

The slight noise of mechanical whirring makes Duke's head snap towards the noise. A camera– one of those old, shitty ones– perched right above the doorway slowly turns to face him, to stare right at him, bore into his fucking soul–

Duke smiles a hysterical smile and runs up to it. The lens follows his movement, zooming out when he's right below it.

“H- Hello? I don't know if you can hear me, Oracle– God, I hope I'm actually talking to Oracle and not just the guy that owns this place– Hood is injured! I found him and hid him somewhere safe, for now, but he's not doing great, so if you could like… send someone to pick him up? I don't know. But I really can't do much for him with the condition he's in?” He holds up the red bat on the jacket and points at the first aid kit, trying to convey the urgency of the situation. “So um– yeah! Please help!”

With that, and a little more gesturing, he runs back to the park with the jacket and the first aid kit, skidding across the grass until he hits the concrete steps. He lets his steps slow as he approaches, trying to avoid startling the infamously trigger-happy vigilante that's hopefully still sheltering in the shadow of that little concrete nook.

Looking around the corner, he's still there, but he's almost entirely bowed as far into the corner as he can get, as if he's trying to hide in it by curling up as tight as he can and becoming part of the shadows. It's… it's a level of vulnerability Duke isn't really comfortable seeing one of the Bats in. It's a stark, painfully clear reminder that the Bats and Birds, as tough as they are, are still probably human.

Although Hood's possibly glowing eyes from earlier might single-handedly disprove that belief.

Duke pauses a few paces away from the man's curled up (thankfully still shivering) form. The shivers are small, though, the main movement being the shallow rising and falling of his chest and slightly shaking shoulders. His legs are still splayed out awkwardly, despite the way the rest of his body is curled in and shifted onto his side.

Fuck, that's probably not good. The lack of shivering is also probably not good.

Duke sits, half kneeling, and sets the first aid kit down beside him. “Hood? That gash on your face was bleeding a lot when I left, I was hoping you'd let me put some bandages on it?”

Hood flinches, slowly turning his head to look up at Duke. There's definitely a dim glow to his eyes, but they're foggier than before.

Another tally in the “probably not good” box.

“Y'r b'ck,” Hood grunts, just barely loud enough for Duke to hear.

He nods, opening the kit. “Yeah, said I'd be back. I think Oracle saw me, so hopefully someone is on their way.”

Hood hums, looking slowly between the bandages in Duke's hands and Duke himself before nodding and turning his face up enough that he can put bandages on.

“I'll try to clean it, and it's probably gonna hurt, but hey, at least it'll keep you awake,” Duke jokes halfheartedly, already finding the saline and clean towel from the kit to dab at the massive cut with. Past his opposite eyebrow twitching, Hood doesn't show any reaction to Duke's actions. Just gazing off into the distance, clearly trying his hardest not to pay attention any more than is absolutely needed.

It's just as Duke is securing the gauze pads to the gouge that he hears voices drifting across the wind, coming from the park. Hood seems to zone back in as well, tensing and glancing quickly around.

“I'll go check it out, it might be them,” Duke whispers, trying to reassure him. He only furrows a brow, but doesn't try– or rather, probably can't try– to stop him.

He, as quietly as he can, sneaks over to the top of the concrete bench stairs, scanning the park for the source of the voices. His eyes land on two shadows around the edge of it that seem to be bickering? He sees red and black on one of them, and purple on the other. He can't make out what they're saying at this distance, but their walk looks strange. Less like a walk, more like they're gliding along.

Or like capes are obscuring their legs.

Duke grins, jumping up and running over to them. It becomes very apparent very quickly that the two forms are Red Robin and Spoiler. Both become guarded and suspicious when Duke approaches, but he stays a respectable distance away.

“Hood's over here, there wasn't anywhere else I could get him to since he can't walk,” Duke explains, running back to the nook with them.

“Why can't he walk?” Red Robin asks quickly. Duke shrugs.

“I don't know, man. I just know I had to drag his heavy ass over here and he hasn't moved, really.”

Spoiler swears when she rounds the corner, kneeling beside Hood's head and moving it into her lap.

------------------------

“Oi, Alley, you in there?”

Jason grunts a vague affirmative, weakly glaring up at her through the haze of pain clouding his vision. Steph smiles, carding a gloved hand through his hair while being careful to avoid the bandages on his face. It's strained, but it's not like anyone can see that behind the half mask she wears.

“B's en route,” Tim announces, stopping beside the two of them. He glances back at the kid who led them here. “Thanks for pulling him out. We've got him from here.”

“Yeah, just– I don't know how long he was in the water for, and I don't think he's shivering as much as he used to be. And he's got pieces of metal or something stuck in him. Just be careful?”

“We will,” Tim assures. The kid nods and walks off, wringing his hands nervously. Steph doesn't pay him much attention, trusting Tim to keep watch until he leaves. Only then does he kneel beside Jason as well, gently feeling around for his injuries. It's easy to tell when he finds them, seeing as Jason's too exhausted to keep his face under control now.

“Dislocated hips, injured ribs, but I can't tell how bad or how many with his armor in the way. Definitely hypothermia, heart rate and breathing is slow and wheezing,” Tim reports. “Scattered shrapnel from the explosion, doesn't seem like it hit anything vital.”

“Keep him awake, ETA one minute,” Batman responds.

“Robin and I will be heading back shortly,” Dick cuts in. “Don't look at me like that, this is prime family cuddle pile time.”

Cass hums an agreement. “Will prepare theater.”

“See, she gets it. Cmon, babybat. Time to skeddadle.”

------------------------

The rest of the night is spent with Jason at the center of the family cuddle pile, much to his chagrin once he wakes up. Tim and Bruce berate him for his recklessness, he deflects, the cycle continues.

In the end, though, he gets his allotted family cuddle pile time and isn't even upset in the moment because he's (figuratively) dead to the world.

Bruce doesn't much appreciate the joke when Steph makes it.

27 notes · View notes

cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 days ago

Note

Well if you want an excuse to finish…

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

And if you’ve gotten enough, put this towards ‘gentle on my mind’ at some point.

- Sarah

Sounds good! Switching this to 🔼 - 135 or 1k:

---

“You’re… You already love them.”

Buck looks at Jane. He lifts her enough to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Of course I do,” Buck says. “But don’t… I mean, Eddie, you have family.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “You met them. Saw what they’re like. I don’t want that for either of the kids.”

Buck nods. “Right, yeah…”

“You’re the person we both trust most,” Shannon says.

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off the baby. He tries to imagine a world without Eddie or Shannon. It seems dystopian. The worst case scenario. The darkest, most horrible timeline. But in that timeline, would he really want the kids swept away to Texas? Lost to him? He loves them both so much. Buck doesn’t know what kind of parent he would be… But he’d do anything to be good enough for them.

“Of course I’d do it,” Buck says. “If that’s what the two of you want, of course I will.”

“Told you,” Eddie mumbles.

“Well we still had to ask,” Shannon replies.

“Probably good to know ahead of time,” Buck agrees. But even if he hadn’t, what would he do? Say no? Obviously not. He’d never give up on Chris and Jane. Maybe that’s it. Why they chose him…

“Thank you, Buck,” Eddie says. “Seriously.”

“Thank you guys for trusting me,” Buck says. His throat is feeling a little tight. “No matter what happens, ever, I’m… As long as you want me in their lives…”

“We do,” Shannon says. “And we know.”

“We have an appointment to update our wills this afternoon,” Eddie says.

Ah. Not a lunch date. Buck feels kind of stupid now.

“Wow,” he exhales. “That quick.”

“Well, things happen quickly,” Eddie mumbles.

“No, I get it,” Buck says. “You have to protect them.”

And now, so does he. So does Buck. Not that he didn’t before… Obviously he has, in a pretty big way, during the tsunami. He protected their lives. But now… Now it seems bigger. He seems… Everything seems a bit bigger. More important. Buck feels more important. Like he’s on call for something he hopes never happens. But something he has to be ready for and capable of doing.

He’s not sure if Shannon or Eddie realize, but they’ve changed something in Buck.

▶️

With Shannon agreeing to care for both kids by herself for the night, Eddie heads to Buck’s after their appointment with the lawyer. He’s thankful and he’s emotional and he needs to be alone with him for a little. This miracle of a man who has come into his life and helped restore his family, become his family, and open him up to a sort of love he might have always denied himself otherwise. Eddie feels such an overwhelming gratitude. He needs Buck to know that.

So he shows him.

He shows Buck how much he loves him, how grateful he is for him, in a language Buck knows well. He focuses entirely on him. Lets himself get lost in it. Until they’re both lying, breathless and sweaty, in Buck’s bed, and Buck’s brain seems to be in outer space.

“I love you,” Eddie says, kissing a line down his bare chest.

“I love you, too,” Buck murmurs, eyes half shut, barely present. “This was a fantastic surprise.”

“Had to make up for earlier being sort of morbid,” he jokes.

Buck chuckles.

“Hey,” Eddie says. “I, uh… I don’t want to keep us quiet anymore.”

Buck sits up a little, suddenly snapped back to the present.

“Wait, really? You want to tell people?”

Eddie nods. “I know it’s complicated. And, uh, potentially awkward for everyone… But, this… This is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, Buck. It shouldn’t be a secret.”

Buck’s resulting smile glows.

“I’d love that, Eddie. I… I would love to be able to just brag about us, actually.”

“Brag about us?” Eddie laughs.

“Yeah,” Buck nods emphatically. “We’re a very attractive couple, Eddie. I should get to brag.”

Eddie kisses him.

“Okay, you can brag. Hell, maybe I’ll out-brag you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

iii.

Not a lot changes for Shannon after Eddie and Buck come out. And she means come out, because not only do they have to come clean about their relationship to everyone, but they have to come out as queer, too. It’s not something, to Shannon’s knowledge, that anyone knew. As far as she hears, it goes okay. They’re at a station full of good people. They don’t have to worry about discrimination or abuse. They do apparently have to deal with a stern lecture about professionalism from Bobby, and apparently Buck is singled out for some teasing. But not about being with a guy. About being ‘obsessed with Eddie from day one,’ as Eddie relays proudly. Shannon might need to fact check that one.

No one contacts her about it, is the point. Whatever Eddie was worried about, it doesn’t come to pass. They must do a good enough job of explaining the dynamic.

What does happen, however, is a strange period of radio silence from Maddie. Shannon’s not sure what to make of it. One day, they’re friends as normal, and then after Buck and Eddie make their announcement, she hardly hears from her at all. She even goes so far as to cancel a plan they’d had to try a new coffee shop in Mar Vista. Shannon starts to take it personally.

“Is something up with Maddie?” Shannon asks Buck one evening.

“Hmm? Maddie?” Buck asks. He’s over at their place. Cooking for them. They’ve started doing more and more with Buck lately. Not just Buck and Eddie or occasionally Buck with Shannon. Buck just seems to be here all the time. Either leaving at night on his own or with Eddie. And honestly? Shannon is liking it more than she expected. She’d have thought the three of them spending extended time together would be strange, but it’s not. Not at all.

#daisies and briars writes #buddie shannon throuple fic

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frog-necromancer · 2 days ago

Text

Betting on a Losing Dog

Masterlist

Chapter 1: A Ghost from the Past

Pairing: Logan/fem!Reader

Hey friends! <3 I've been working on this for a while now and even though it's not quite finished yet , I would like to share the first chapter with you! Comments and likes are highly appreciated! Hope you like it!

Summary: Logan is confronted with a ghost from his past, a ghost that haunts him to this very day.

The story of Logan and F/N after the Westchester Incident, follows the plot of Logan.

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Tags:

#drug abuse #swearing #angst #anger issues #main character death (it’s Logan sorry babes) #smut #alcohol abuse #fluff #drug addiction #graphic description of violence #heavy angst #biting #thigh riding #oral (f receiving) #p in v sex #unprotected sex (wrap it up) #kissing #skin picking #graphic description of injuries #attempt at humor #spending time as a family #intrusive thoughts #fighting #hurt no comfort (maybe a little comfort) #found family #marriage!?!! #self harm (skin picking) #throwing up #self destructive behavior and tendencies #depression #smoking #references to Christianity and religion #video game references #road trip

Playlist:

F/N- first name

L/N- last name

E/C- eye color

H/C- hair color

S/C- skin color

F/C- favorite color

Mutation: Fear manipulation - trapping people in their nightmares, showing them their deepest darkest fears as well as possession and energy draining through touch.

Chapter: 1 / 6

A Ghost from the Past

A bell rang. The pungent smell of cheap plastic and cleaning products filled the air as Logan stepped into the small supermarket. The lady on the radio was babbling about the incident at the casino a day prior, to his relief it was promptly shut off, switched to some pop music.

Flickering neon lights burned in his tired, bloodshot eyes, a stark contrast to the darkness outside. He glanced at Laura who seemed unimpressed, albeit a little grumpy. The cramped shelves were filled with everything one could want, from groceries to household goods to dog fashion. Whoever was supposed to buy that here.

Logan paused, his brows pulled into a frown. There was something familiar between the biting smells, a fragrance he hadn't smelled in years.

He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the resurfacing memories, it was probably nothing. Or maybe, just maybe he was finally losing his mind.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see the backroom of the small shop, the door slightly open. He could make out the silhouette of who he assumed was the cashier, throwing something into her mouth that was definitely not Tictacs, before disappearing from his view.

The faster they got out of here, the better, this place was a shithole and they had no time to spare. “Laura. We're here for food. Nothing else. Chuck is waiting for us in the car.”, his voice was stern and left no room for arguments, but he knew that if the girl really wanted something, she would take it or throw a tantrum trying. That was the last thing he needed right now.

Laura disappeared between the shelves and Logan hoped that she wouldn't get them in trouble this time. They did not need any more complications at the moment.

“That's it. I've told you a million times to not pop pills while you're working.” That must be the shopkeeper, his angry voice came from somewhere within the backroom. “I’m sorry sir it won't happen again” Logan froze, that voice…it reminded him of someone. Of her. But it couldn't be. He must be hearing things now too. “No, I’ve given you plenty of second chances. Finish your shift and don't come back tomorrow.” The poor cashier was probably just trying to get through the day, but Logan had no time for compassion right now. They had to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Logan shook his head, grabbing two sandwiches, a large bottle of Jack Daniel’s that would last him a couple of days as well as some fruit juice for Laura. Apple or something.

Finally said girl emerged from behind one of the stuffed shelves “Did you get something to eat?” Laura held up a bag of potato chips and a coke, Logan frowned, he didn't even have the energy to shake his head: “No. Absolutely not, that does not count as a meal” He groaned, rubbing his face in annoyance. “Get something different.” Laura glared up at him, marching back to find something else, hopefully something with a little more nutritional value than a bag of fatty potato chips (He's trying to be a good paternal figure or whatever).

He began to put their stuff on the slightly dirty counter, ringing the little bell to inform the cashier (or should he say ex-cashier) that he wanted to pay. “One second” there was that voice again, maybe his ears were giving up on him or maybe, just maybe the alcohol was finally going to his head.

Logan was counting his money, hoping it would be enough. The cashier appeared in his peripheral vision, hammering something into the checkout, before beginning to scan his stuff. Each beep made Logan flinch internally, this wasn't helping the hangover he was currently nursing at all.

“Laura will you hurry-” he barked, as he finally looked up at the cashier. when he saw her face, he froze, his voice betraying him.

Was he seeing ghosts now? And of all the people he had lost…her? Shit. This couldn't be. He must have drunk too much. This had to be an alcohol induced hallucination. Surely.

He blinked a couple of times. And still. There she was. His F/N. His Ghost.

“We call her Ghost” Logan’s lips formed a frown, he shifted on the leather couch taking a big swig from his beer: “Why? Is she a little scary or something?” Kurt shook his head, his dark blue lips pulled downwards: “Nein- I mean ja but… she's more than a little scary she’s super-duper scary” Logan huffed, his patience wearing thin tonight as he took another gulp of his cold beverage.

"Well spill it, elf. What's so scary about her?” he grunted, flexing his free hand. Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the blue mutant was a little tipsy: “She can manipulate fear and possess people… drain some of their life force as well…she can trap people in their worst nightmares until they lose their minds” Logan's eyes widened the tiniest bit, he was silent for a moment, contemplating his reply. He didn't know this ‘Ghost’ and yet he felt bad for her: “That…sounds hella depressing.” he finally mumbled. Kurt nodded, tail raising his own beer to his mouth to take a sip: “That's why she rarely uses it. Just enough to be able to control it…”

She hadn't changed all that much, her mutation slowed down her aging if she consumed the energy of others and yet she looked a little older. But if she looked older, then he looked like a damn fossil. (A damn sexy fossil grrrr)

Her hair was longer than he remembered, but still a beautiful H/C. Framing her face so nicely. Her E/C eyes were more tired, but she looked just as beautiful as on the day when-

“Fuck. Logan?” She was the first to speak, her E/C eyes wide, pupils dilated and filled with surprise and recognition. His thoughts went back to when he'd seen her popping those pills in the back. She never changed and it hurt. “Hey”, his voice was more breathless than he'd liked, rougher and tired. They both were silent for a moment, the gentle humming of the neon lights filled the tense air. The memory of their last meeting flickered into his mind, when they’d last seen each other.

“Logan- I- We- I can't do this anymore”, F/N was trying to stay calm, a desperate edge to her voice as she paced through the dimly lit kitchen of the X mansion, frustration written all over her face. Logan looked up from his beer in irritation: “Do what?” he asked gruffly. F/N stopped right in front of him, her expression serious, brows pulled into a frown as if she couldn't believe that he even had to ask: “Pretend like everything's okay…”

Logan scoffed, taking a long drink from his beer, before setting it down on the table with an unnecessary loud clunk: “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart. Are you high again?” He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth, he knew he had overstepped, but there was no going back now.

Well, there was but he was too much of a coward to apologize.

F/N seemed a little taken aback, but she caught herself: “Logan don't give me that.” Her frustration grew but her voice stayed steady: “Something’s wrong with Charles and you know it. Something has to be done.”

Another sip of beer, Logan scoffed: “You're being delusional.” He should stop drinking, he knew it. He should apologize to her right fucking now. But he didn't have it in himself. It would mean that he had to admit that Charles was unwell. They would have to address the problem that had been building up for months.

A look of hurt crossed her face, he hated seeing her like this: “Logan I'm fucking serious.” She groaned, running her hand over her face, it was obvious that this was going nowhere: “I'm going out. I'll be back late.” Logan nodded, his expression stern and his voice rough, but F/N recognized the soft edge that was only reserved for her: “I’ll leave the light on.”

Even when they were fighting, he couldn't help but worry about her.

“Bye, Logan. Love you.”

She had said it so softly, so carefully but he could feel that she was genuine. He had wanted to return the words. But he was a stubborn asshole. And a Coward.

He watched her go in silence, not saying another word.

They had fought. He knew he should have listened to her back then. Not drown his trouble in alcohol.

And the worst part was that he hadn’t even said goodbye.

He hadn't told her that he loved her.

Logan was about to speak when Laura wordlessly (as always) slapped a sandwich and a bag of radioactive-looking blue candy on the counter. Poor F/N seemed even more confused now, her eyes flickering between him and the girl wearing a unicorn shirt and colorful sunglasses pushed up on her head between her black hair (and owning it). In hopes of overcoming the awkwardness she continued to scan their stuff, her E/C eyes focused on the task, instead of him.

“I- I thought you were dead…” Logan finally got out, a sadness to his voice that told the story of a broken heart.

F/N glanced up from the bottle of liquor she was scanning, her brows pulled into a small frown. “Thought the same about you…”, her voice was just as soft as he'd remembered, but far more tired. “Heh…I guess everything got a bit chaotic after…” He didn't need to finish his sentence, how could she forget? “Yeah…I guess.”

Silence again, only interrupted by the beeping of the counter. “So…is she…”

Logan knew what she meant, she didn't need to finish her question. She probably thought he had moved on. But he would never. He couldn't. “This is Laura.”, He quickly replied, before continuing: “Uhm she's technically my daughter but I did not father her…she was an illegal experiment.” With a soft nod, F/N looked down at Laura, her eyes gentle and understanding: “Hey Laura” Logan scratched his salt and pepper beard, an awkward expression on his face: “She doesn't talk.”

F/N was still looking at Laura with a small yet warm smile on her pretty lips, almost like she recognized him in her: “I see. Well nice to meet you, Laura” Logan almost expected Laura to not react at all, like she did most times. But then the girl nodded softly, big brown eyes looking at F/N. Logan's heart hurt.

The obnoxious beeping of the cash register filled the stuffy air. Logan sighed: “Listen, do you maybe know a motel or something around here, where we could spend the night? I don't want Laura and Charles to sleep in the car again.” F/N frowned softly, surprise washing over her face yet again: “Wait- Charles? He's alive?” Logan nodded, leaning against the counter: “He sure as hell is…but he's not been doing well. Age is taking a real number on him.”

He half expected a comment about his own age, but it never came. F/N sighed softly pushing a few strands of H/C hair behind her ear, it was more than clear that they were struggling, that they needed help. If this little girl really was an illegal experiment, they probably were in some deep trouble.

“The next motel is about two hours away, I’m afraid.” Logan groaned quietly, rubbing his temple. F/N paused, she seemed to be considering something, her eyes finding his: “I don't live far from here. It's not much but I got a pull-out couch and a spare mattress.” she offered, voice careful as if she was unsure of this proposition herself.

Logan was reluctant to accept, he hadn't seen her in years and wanted to spend time with her but at the same time he didn't want to put her in danger or even be a bother. He had been one often enough in the past: “You don't have to offer this.” F/N shook her head, she could see his inner turmoil: “No, it's fine. I don't mind… and I could use the company” Her voice was tired yet firm, Logan could see her eyes wander to the bottle of Jack she'd just scanned, he could see the concern in her eyes, concern for him.

Did she know that he was just as concerned about her, that she was taking god knows what again? Just like all those years ago? He glanced down at Laura who was throwing curious glances at F/N, he could tell that she didn't want to sleep in the car again.

Finally, Logan nodded: “Alright.” A smile pulled at F/N's chapped lips, she glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at him. “Great, my shift ends in 15 minutes. You mind giving me a lift?” Logan nodded while F/N put their stuff into a bag: “That will be 37 dollars and 40 cents. Logan grunted fishing around in his wallet for the money, but it wasn't looking good, he quickly searched through his pockets, but luck wasn't with him. Shit. Sure, he had more money in the car but he didn’t wanna pay her with a five-hundred-dollar bill. She didn't need to know what kind of shady stuff he had been up to.

F/N watched him carefully: “How much do you have?” Logan scratched his head a little embarrassed, although he would never show it: “Uhm 30… but I have more in the car” She nodded, punching something into the register: “then it'll be 30 dollars, please” His eyes widened: “F/N- you can't -” She silenced him with the raise of her hand and a tired yet reassuring smile. “I'm already fired, it's fine.”

Logan sighed but nodded, handing her the thirty bucks: “Alright, I owe you” F/N simply shook her head. “Don't think I didn't see Laura putting candy into her pocket earlier” Of fucking course she had. “Laura”, his voice was a warning, but it was also tired and Laura simply shrugged. F/N chuckled softly, he'd missed that sound so fucking much “I don't get paid enough for this… And as of now, I don't work here anymore.”

Logan opened the door of his car for her, always the gentleman (or his job as a limo driver had influenced him more than he'd thought). “What took you so long- F/N!” Charles greeted her with a surprised smile. He looked older, more fragile and he seemed to have lost sight in one of his eyes. The once black pupil was now milky and blurry.

“It's good to see you too, Charles” She sat down in the passenger's seat, turning to him with a smile. It was a foreign feeling, there wasn't much to smile about lately “We thought you were dead!” F/N nodded, her heart aching at Charles’ words: “So much has happened but I'm glad you and Logan are alright” Charles scoffed: “Well I wouldn't say alright, he’s drinking like his life depends on it” F/N hummed, giving his hand a little squeeze: “I guessed as much” Charles nodded: “And you? Are you still taking those godforsaken pills?” Her lips formed a thin line, he was a lot more direct than he used to be. That much was clear, but at least he wasn't trying to read her mind anymore. Or maybe he couldn't.

She nodded softly: “I guess the years have not been kind to either of us” Logan cleared his throat, clearly not fond of the subject of their conversation as he started the car: “F/N is letting us stay at her home for the night. Be nice to her, old man.”

#logan x reader #logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #x men #laura kinney #charles xavier #hugh jackman #smut #x reader #hugh jackman x reader #logan x you #angst #fluff #Spotify

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freyascoffee · 2 days ago

Text

You always come to the party

College!Ellie Williams x reader

Summary: 3 months after your breakup, you and Ellie have been seeing each other around more recently. Do you think she deserves a second chance to prove her love?

Author's note: this is my first time writing one of these so bare with me :) Also posting this late because I've been meaning to write this for ages now

December 12th

The silence of entering your dormitory after boring lectures was probably the worst part of your day. You and Ellie broke up to 'focus on yourselves' yet it was hard to focus at all when the polaroid pictures of the two of you hang upon the golden fairylights above your desk. That stupid dinosaur keyring she won for you during your date at the arcade jingled every time you grabbed your keys. The guitar pick she accidentally left on your window sill collected dust; nonetheless, it was left untouched, as if waiting to be picked up again.

Everything reminded you of her. You procrastinated the decision of putting yourself out there because you didn't want anyone else. A distraction would be useful- hell- it was a need. The need to forget about that internal conflict and question what you did to deserve the sudden cold shoulder from Ellie. She was in the wrong. She chose to be dismissive of your feelings the few weeks before your breakup. It was nothing like the Ellie you knew, but you had to put yourself first.

Repetitive and monotonous cycles of talking stages chased you throughout the next 3 months. 'What's your favourite colour?' 'What's your favourite food?' The questions were so vague, only reminding you of the silly conspiracies you and Ellie made up during your smoking sessions, or when you gazed at the stars from a grassy hill close to the campus. The philosophical questions you'd debate just for shits and giggles overlapped the strangers' voices when they asked the generic 'what superpower would you want to have?'.

You only wondered if Ellie felt some sense of remorse for her neglect in the end, or if she was too busy hanging out with Dina, who seemed to cut contact with you after the breakup, and Jesse, who still reached out to you every couple weeks.

"Earth to Yn!" Jesse waved his hand in front of your face.

"Sorry, you were saying?" You asked, tilting your head to face him reluctantly.

"..The party" Jesse raised an eyebrow, implying that you should catch on what he was talking about, if you were listening.

"Absolutely not" You mirrored his raised eyebrow in a 'Are you serious' way.

"Come on, you'll meet some new people. Show yourself off a little, maybe make certain individuals jealous. " he nudged your elbow at the last word. He was completely aware of what happened between you and Ellie, having most definitely hearing both sides of the story.

A narrow glare from you, shot up at him before averting to your textbook, which looked brand new, despite owning it since the beginning of the school year. The spine wasn't even cracked, knowing Ellie, she would've begged you to let her crack it for you. "...I'll think about it"

"Don't give me that," he insisted, leaning forward as he covered the pages of your textbook with his hands. "How long has it been since you got a little drunk? A little cray-cray?"

"Euh, never say that again" you groaned, dropping your head into the palms of your sweating hands. "I might just never go to a party again out of spite"

"I'm just saying, you should go. I'll take you there and we'll will leave any time you feel like it" he pursed his lips into a thin line, mocking your dad's convincing expression.

"Is she gonna there?" You mumbled, gently pushing his hands away from the book and flicking through to the next page, a soft crackling sound cutting through the short silence between the two of you.

"Who?..ohh- nah, she said she'd rather stay in and judge people's instagram pics from the party" Jesse shrugged. "Dina will probably stay with her"

"Right" you rubbed your temples in circular motions, easing the aching sensation of your head.

"Do you want her to go?" He smirked, grabbing his phone from his brown leather jacket, a loud zip of his pocket cutting through the quiet library. "Because I can get that sort-"

"Shut up- I was just asking" you hushed, looking around awkwardly to ensure nobody was giving the judgemental look of disapproval.

"And I was just offering" Jesse was annoyingly quick with comebacks, and you were often reminded of that. "So, the partys December 18th, Margaret's beach house, there's gonna be food, drinks, music, you know, basic party stuff..and a pool"

"Anyone willing to swim in a pool in December?" You winced "..whatever- and what if the cops come because of complaints?" You added. A criminal record was not on your Christmas wishlist whatsoever.

"you were on the track team for a reason" he laughed, looking back up at you from his phone. "If anyone knows how to run away from problems, it's you"

"Was that seriously a secret diss? That's low, Jesse." You scoffed with a goofy smile, propping one leg up on your chair and fiddling with the chain of your locket.

December 16th

The party was only two days away and you had no idea what to wear, you thought as you stood in front of your wardrobe full of clothes. Point was, none of it was essentially party-worthy, basic tees and jeans were all you had since your sister decided she wanted her clothes back. In that case, she should consider that her Christmas gift.

You mindlessly walked through stores, looking for a simple dress, but a lot of the racks were stuffed with outfits that were rave-appropriate at most. You eventually left the mall, and decided to go to your favourite store, TJ Maxx, it had all anyone ever needed.

The glass doors slid open, and the faint echo of a 2010s pop song rang through the building. You made your way towards the dress section and you only found silver sequen dresses which went down to your ankles, so that's a no. You pulled your phone out from your pocket and opened Pinterest, typing 'Christmas party outfit simple'.

You scrolled for a moment before finding a cute top and skirt combination. TJ Maxx definitely had this. It was a skirt and a fitted sparkly long-sleeved top along with tights with patterns. After a couple laps through the aisles, you found everything you needed and made your way to the checkout.

As you exited the store, you were notified of 2 missed calls. Jesse. You audibly sighed and clicked the green telephone icon. It rung once before the other line immediately picked up. "Listen, oh my gosh, okay, so come to my dorm right now, we're trying to build a gingerbread house and I thought, who'd be better to help than Yn? Get your ass here right now"

You heard Ellie's voice in the background, talking, you weren't sure whether it was to Jesse or someone else but you weren't sure if you were ready to see her again. "Uhh..who's with you?" You asked, knowing the answer, but just seeking confirmation to emotionally prepare yourself.

"Ellie and Dina" his voice cut of between syllables. Probably just your data running low again, why did your renewal always have to be at the end of the month?

"Oh I'll try and-" you spoke, before the call ended. Shit. Now you're gonna have to go because it seems like you agreed. You weren't opposed to the idea of building gingerbread houses, but you were definitely against the inevitable tension you'd face when you got there.

After reaching your room, you dropped your shopping bag onto the bed and checked yourself out in the mirror. Fixing your eyebrows and reapplying vaseline onto your lips, winter dryness was the worst. You looked yourself up and down one more time before slipping on your sliders and taking the stairs of the flat down to Jesse's dorm.

You knock quietly, a swift and recognisable pattern you always made against the door of room 47. You heard Christmas music from the other side of the wall and chuckling as the sound of footsteps drew nearer. You twirl a lock of your hair awkwardly whilst waiting for someone to answer.

Oh.

"..hey" the freckled auburn mumbles between the cookie she looks like she just stuffed in her mouth.

"..hi" you smile awkwardly, not moving any closer towards the room, as if hesitating to even enter. You were already regretting coming at all, the sound of Dina's voice further in the room intimidated you.

"You coming in, or are you stopping by to sing Christmas carols?" Jesse called out from his seated position on the floor. "You're letting the warm air out"

"Right- sorry" you nodded once, slipping under Ellie's arm which was propped against the door frame. "So what did you need help with exactly? This looks fine"

"We needed a fourth contestant to make a poll on instagram, you know, see who's gingerbread house looks the best and all" he grinned "come on, it'll be fun"

You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, realising Ellie already shut the door and sat beside Dina. "Okay okay" you reluctantly sit beside Jesse, crossing your legs and scanning the ingredients. "Shit, where'd you get all this?"

"My mom got it for us, she wanted us to keep the Christmas tradition while I'm away" Dina admitted. Her tone was calm and neutral, maybe that secret amnesty you thought she felt towards you was just overthinking. You nod slightly, a loud silence growing in the dorm. Only the music from Jesse's phone brang a sense of ease to the group of you.

"Let's get started, I'm starving" Ellie groans. "I like the outfit, by the way" she nods in acknowledgement in your direction.

What was supposed to be a subtle smile unfortunately turned into a wide grin, you quickly mask it with a light chuckle. "Thanks" you meet her gaze, it felt more genuine and nostalgic since the last time your eyes locked..months ago. You knew better than that, though.

The day was filled with laughter and 'remember when' stories. You and Ellie spoke frequently within the group, yet direct interactions between the two of you were strictly Ellie asking for you to pass the icing...and also a significant number of exchanged glances, and catching each other looking longingly at the other.

"..kay, mines done" Jesse announced, his country accent slipping slightly. "When are you losers gonna finish?"

You suppress a laugh, avoiding eyecontact with him. The house looked like a five year old made it. The icing was dripping on the sides, the windows were crumbling off, and the roof was asymmetrical. "Is that it?" Your voice trembles. He looks up at you with a confused expression, gesturing his hands at it. He picks it up, as if to pretend he's going to drop it on purpose.

"N-no it's nice..oh..it's so nice" your voice shook with hidden laughs. You look at Dina, who's covering her mouth with her hand, giving you a thousand yard stare. Ellie bursts out into laughter. "Isn't your dad an architect?" You ask, trying to distract yourself.

"What about it?" He frowned, also seemingly holding back a smile. He placed the gingerbread house down on the floor again, the sweet roof collapsed inwards as he did. "..yeah okay."

"It's fantastic, babe" Dina mumbled, tears swelling in her eyes from laughter. "..so beautiful I could cry.." a muffled chuckle escapes from her lips.

"Oh okay I see how it is" Jesse rolls his eyes, taking a piece of the roof and shoving it into his mouth. It made his mouth look rectangular which only brought another round of giggles.

December 18th

Red Solo cups were scattered across the wooden crates and sands. The flickering of strobe lights painted the trees and fences of the backyard with splashes of color. You lost Jesse in the large groups of people and chose to make the most of it. You were drunk, you didn't know anyone, nor did you have to, just make the most of it.

Strangers you danced with flashed into fragments of a familiar girl's face, the fast rhythm of the bass guiding your heart to race along with it. The ginger girl you laughed with as you jumped to the music momentarily twitched into an image of a short-haired auburn, before morphing back into her usual state. The rays of lights illuminated a plaid pattern on her jacket, imitating a recognizable flannel.

"Cannon ball!" A guy, pretty sure his name was Tyler, jumped into the freezing pool. A group of students around you cheered and pushed past you, causing you to accidentally tug along with them before finding your balance. Dropping cans and sliding their shoves off, they sprinted into the water, are they stupid? You slowly made your way to sit on a nearby decorative rock, and watched them in their pre-hypothermic states.

Your gaze shifted to the group of girls singing along to a Shakira song by the campfire. They swayed their hips and lifted their green bottles of booze, followed by a loud cheer for a girl taking chugs from her drink. She then threw the bottle to the side and squealed, good for her.

A cold sensation splashed against your face. You looked up, alarmed, only to see some jock shaking his wet hair like a dog, that was completely unnecessary. Although, it had minimally sobered you up, you stood up and instinctively reached to adjust your locket, it was a habit of yours to awkwardly play with your necklace.

...Where was your necklace? That familiar weight of your golden locket was missing. Your fingers fumbled at the fabric of your jacket, to your hair, to your shoes. It had felt like time slowed down, just for a split second. Your gaze flickered around the rock you were sitting on. The locket was something precious to you. You couldn't lose it, not like this.

You heart raced as panic set in. You had to find Jesse. You frantically pushed through the crowd, trying to stay calm, you were always a collected person but this was unknown. You didn't know where to begin looking, he could be anywhere, the lake was packed. People blended together like blurry smears, faces lost in your clouded vision of alcohol.

"Woah there, you okay?" Your breath hitched, looking up at the familiar voice. It was Ellie. This was a bad time. You were too panicked to let her see you like this. Her and that dark green winter coat. You weren't ready to talk to her.

"Have you seen Jesse anywhere?" You said, just loud enough for Ellie to understand your words above the booming sounds from the speakers. "Is he still here?"

"What wrong?" She asked softly. She gently placed her subtly calloused hands on your forearms to stop you from anxiously fidgeting. You averted your gaze to Dina, who was sipping juice from a silly straw.

"Nothing- I just need to find him, okay?" You hissed. Flickering your gaze back to her, a pleading glimmer in your eyes.

She nodded at Dina before guiding you inside the building. The music was muffled, or at least less painful to listen to. She occasionally looked back at you to ensure you were still following her in the busy hallway.

Jesse was sat on the sofa, laughing with a group of unfamiliar faces. As soon as he noticed the two of you, he stood up and approached you. "You alright?"

"No you are all left" a guy from behind you chuckled, placing hands on yours and Ellies shoulders and peeking between your heads.

"Dude, get outta here" Jesse sighed, pushing him away by his forehead. "You okay?"

"This is really inconvenient, I know, but I-I lost my locket and I can't find it, can you help me? Please?" You bit your bottom lip anxiously, awaiting a response.

"Okay..take a deep breath" he inhaled deeply, gesturing you to mirror him "..and out..is this the locket you always wear? The little gold heart, right?" He smiled reassuringly. You nodded quickly.

"Listen, it's nice n chill in here, look, you can stay right here until I'm back, and I promise we'll find it. You don't leave until I come back because we both know how that's gonna end. If you feel sick, just go to the sink, it's right behind you, alright?" He patted your back. Your gaze followed him until he reached a pair of girls, fuck drunk vision.

It felt like ages had passed, your dizziness had thankfully faded, but the pit in your stomach suggested you weren't going to find that locket. Ellie and Dina walked past you, giving small sympathetic smiles as they went down the hallway and to the front porch. Ellie's clothes were drenched and a scent of chlorine followed behind her.

You closed your eyes for a moment, fiddling with the hem of your top, praying that Jesse would return soon. Your locket dangled in front of your dazed expression. You looked up at the raven-haired male. "Thank you so much." You stood up and hugged him tightly. You pulled away and took hold of the locket, clipping it back around your neck. The locket was cold, and droplets of water trickled along your collarbone from the chain.

"Come on, let's get you back" Jesse mumbled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to support your swaying legs. He guided you to his jeep.

December 19th

You extended your legs as far as you could in the comfort of your warm, morning mattress. Memories from last night flashing through your mind, remembering how pretty Ellie looked. The freezing feeling of the locket around you. The slight shivering of Ellie's lips when she smiled at you last night. Dots slowly connected in your exhausted brain and a sudden realisation hit you like a brick.

Ellie was the one that found your locket. The moment you saw Jesse speak to two girls, was the imaginary picture comparison of the colours they were wearing. Although you couldn't depict their faces, one was wearing all black, and the other was wearing dark green and dark blue; this matched Dina and Ellie' outfits from your previous interaction.

Ellie's hair and jeans were drenched from what you could remember when she was leaving. Her coat was dry, she must have taken it off, implying she looked in the pool. Plus, the necklace was wet when Jesse gave it back to you. Stop it, you're spiralling and overthinking it. You could only ask Ellie to find out the truth.

So there you were, standing in front of room 51, with a warm smile and handful of questions, knowing your signature pattern. Why were you doing this? You and Ellie were over. She stopped caring in the end. It was too late to turn back when the door had creaked open, revealing a pale Ellie with a weighted blanket draped over her shoulders.

"...this looks like a bad time. I can come back la-" you reassured awkwardly, stammering over your words as your gaze struggled to hold hers. She just stood there, intently watching you.

"Shut up, it's fine, come in" she cut you off. She opened the door wider, exposing the messy dormitory, and softly lit salt lamp which brightened the dark room. "Make yourself comfortable"

How was she being so casual right now? Was it casual? Were the feelings one-sided now? Stop analysing, just talk. "..hey..so..I figured maybe.. we could talk?...if I knew you were sick, I wouldn'tve bothered you"

"What do you wanna talk about?" She dropped onto the bed, resting her head against the bedframe to face you. "This isn't about the gingerbread house dm right? Because that was Dina, she took my phone when I was in the bathroom"

"I didn't see it..I came to ask about.. everything that happened..before.. and stuff " you pursed your lips to the side, twisting the golden chain which rested on your neck.

"..right right.." she nodded "I've been meaning to reach out and all, I was gonna talk to you last night" she scratched her lip "then I saw you super panicked and drunk so I..didn't"

"And between the 3 months of not talking either?" You raised an eyebrow, provoking her to continue.

"Listen, ever since we got together, you were so kind..and funny and cool. It made me so..afraid of losing that. It was selfish, I know. I just didn't want you to go, not like everyone else in my life, not you" she admitted "..that day..when we argued, like- for real argued- I hated every second of it. I hated facing the consequences of my own actions. I still hate that I was stupid enough to leave you like that"

Your eyes were wide in surprise. "...and you didn't think to try and tell me?" You were being reasonably confused, communication is key to a relationship.

"I felt too guilty, I didn't want to make you feel obliged to stay with me out of pity" her hand trembled subtly as it lay on her lap. She leaned her head on your shoulder.

"It still made me feel guilty" you murmur, resting your head on hers.

"I know, and I'm so sorry for that. Uhh...I- I'll do whatever you ask me to, just to prove my remorse. I'll post something really embarrassing if you really want me to." She muttered, lifting her head from your shoulder to look at you. "I'd do anything"

"..are you sick?" You asked, scanning her face. You noticed the darker circles under her eyes, and the box of painkillers on her bedside table. "Did you go in the pool, you idiot?"

"Hey-hey now- I was actually in the pool for you, idiot" she mocked your insult. "Your locket was at the bottom for whatever reason...so..yeah"

"What did you get fucking hypothermia looking for my stupid necklace? Are you serious?" Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the smile on your face couldn't be restrained. "You're kidding"

"Does the medicine receipt on my desk look like a joke to you?" She grinned "it was no big deal, it was whatever"

"Not to me it wasn't. You found my locket. How'd you even know it would be there?" You let out a half-laugh.

"Guessed" she shrugged with a stoic tone, but the glimmer in her eyes said otherwise. "Well I guess I kinda saw it glowing under the lights in the pool. This is gonna sound corny as hell, but that locket kinda made me realise how much I needed to fix...so I I'll say it again, I'm really sorry."

"I forgive you, I do, just please promise that if you ever have a problem like that again, you talk to me. You're my best friend and I don't want to lose that." You stutter "you have a lot to make up for, you know" you smile softly.

"Can I start my redemption now?" Her smirk deepens, those green eyes meeting yours again. "Just a small head start?" You let out a deep breath and nod, eyes flickering down to her lips before returning to her eyes.

You adjusted slightly to face her. She leaned closer. Her lips brushed against yours, ghosting a soft kiss. She pulled away slightly, your stupid smiles mirroring each other's. "Chat is this rizz?" You mumbled shyly, a pink hue tinting your cheeks.

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fluff #tlou

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