#will quadruple check next time

[plural-bracket]

uh. i just realised we forgot to add. the media tags. for enstars to this poll, so for fairness' sake i'm posting this into the enstars tags. for actual voting and anything else, please go to the actual poll ↓

[snobgoblin]

i was hoping the binder would get here before work starts again but they sent it to my town, and then accidentally sent it to Virginia so 🫡 gonna be a tits out kind of week i guess

[darkmatilda]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you got used to running away from the consequences of your actions, but it turned out to be incredibly difficult when the consequences are your coworker and their name is spencer reid.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x fem!baureader, canon typical violence and topics, season 1/2 reid, GLASSES REID, queen elle greenaway herself, gideon being a little creep (as usual), reader clearly ovulating lmao, mention of a trauma connected with drowning, mention of one night stands of the reader, inspired by taylor swift song "the bolter", dominant reader (mostly), spencer being awkwardly sweet

𝐚/𝐧: i should be doing my history assigment now instead of writing another freaky long fic but here i am

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 10k

Fuck, you thought the moment you realized you’d woken up in someone’s arms.

Double fuck, you added as it dawned on you that this wasn’t some random guy you met at a club, the kind who’d bought you a drink, whose name you hadn’t even tried to remember, and whose life you could easily disappear from without a second thought. Instead, you were lying in the bed of a coworker—a teammate you saw almost every single day.

Triple fuck.

Maybe even quadruple, because of how much you liked it. That is, lying next to his bare skin. In a position where one of his arms was wrapped around your body, his face buried in your hair, in the curve of your neck. His breathing steady, occasionally tickling you. Pleasant. It was pleasant.

You were up to five fucks already, and you hadn’t even left the bed yet.

There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to do it. By the time Spencer Reid opened his gorgeous, chocolate-brown eyes, you’d already be gone. Long gone, behind the wheel of your car, speeding at the maximum legal limit with the window cracked open, despite the icy gusts of winter air rushing in.

You’d been perfecting this strategy for years. First, you’d lose yourself in strangers’ sheets with moans and gasps, only to slip away in the early morning, filled with a thrill even greater than what you’d felt just a few hours before. Why? A very good question. You wished you had the answer to it.

This situation shouldn’t have been an exception, though theoretically, it already was. After all, you’d never even considered doing this with people you knew so well. People you couldn’t just ghost without consequence. People you—leaning over to check the clock on the bedside table—were supposed to see again in less than an hour!

You rubbed your sleepy face with your hand, silently cursing yourself. If only you’d been drunk the night before. People dodge the consequences of far worse actions than having a sex with a coworker simply by blaming it on alcohol. But no—when all of this started, you’d been completely sober and fully aware. Incredibly turned on, it’s worth mentioning.

Before the memories of the previous night could start ambushing you, you scrambled out of the bed. First, of course, you had to untangle yourself from the mess of limbs—carefully, so as not to wake him. You gently moved his arm aside and adjusted the blanket over his hips. Where this sudden care and tenderness came from was yet another very interesting question.

Tiptoeing around the bedroom, you gathered your clothes. Your panties and bra you shamelessly clutched in one hand, intending to shove them into your jacket pocket later. Before heading for it, though, you paused for a brief moment in front of the bed, in front of the still-sleeping Reid.

The blanket, pushed low, revealed the upper half of his lean body—his prominent collarbones and the smooth, even tone of his delicious skin. His chest rose and fell steadily, his hand resting in the spot where you’d been lying just moments ago. As if you were still there.

What a shame it was only a one-time thing.

Some people, looking at his innocent appearance, had no idea how much he had to offer. Their loss, you thought, leaving the apartment on shaky legs, feeling soreness in most of the muscles in your body.  When you finally got inside the car and the wind began to cool your flushed face and cheeks, the guilt faded away. You didn’t feel as good as usual, your heart wasn’t racing, and the adrenaline wasn’t surging through your veins the way you craved. Strange. Did it have something to do with who your one-night lover was? You shook your head, trying not to dwell on it.

You’d had a really great time together that one night, but that was it. You were officially leaving it behind, forgetting it.

Just like you always did.

It wasn’t an exception, you told yourself, as you took a quick shower in your own apartment.

It wasn’t an exception, and the fact that you worked together didn’t change a thing.

It wasn’t an exception, you kept affirming, crossing the threshold of the office with still-damp hair and the buttons of your fitted black shirt unevenly fastened.

“Are we not greeting each other anymore?” someone’s question snapped you back to reality.

Lost in thought, you realized you’d passed your friend Elle’s desk without even nodding at her. She was sitting on the edge of it, arms crossed over her chest, her dark eyes seeming to pierce through your skull, sifting through your memories. She was sharp—sometimes, too sharp. With nothing more than a sly smile, she let you know she knew something was going on.

"Sorry. I'm still half asleep," you said, approaching her for a hug. You let out a chuckle. "Or maybe I'm completely asleep if I missed such a hot chick in my path."

Elle pushed you away by a finger’s length, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"You think you're gonna distract me with compliments? Better start talking—who's the guy?"

“What guy?” someone asked, surprisingly not you, but Derek, who stepped into the room with a massive cup of coffee, nearly dropping it as he tried to greet both of you. You loved the laid-back atmosphere of the early mornings at work, when you had a moment to chat about whatever. “Well, good morning, ladies. From the looks on your faces, I’m guessing you had a nice weekend?”

"From that huge cup of coffee, I’m guessing you did too, if you need that much caffeine. Partying on a Sunday night, you should be ashamed," you replied sarcastically, eyeing your coworker. 

His eyebrows shot up.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he whistled.

"She's just trying to change the subject," Elle informed him. "I was just interrogating our little bolter. 

You rolled your eyes at hearing that nickname again. They’d started using it a while ago, as soon as they found out how you handled things with guys. There was nothing judgmental about it—they just really liked to tease you.

It took Morgan a moment to piece together what was going on. When he did, laughter burst from his lips.

"Is that why your hair is still wet? You left in such a rush you didn’t even have time to dry it?"

"She was afraid the sound of the hair dryer would wake the guy up," Elle snorted. "And, heaven forbid, they’d actually have to talk to each other."

“Oh, screw you both,” you muttered, aiming to act your age—in this case, by flipping them off. Before you could, Derek caught your hand, stopping you from spinning on your heel and stomping back to your desk.

“You know,” he said, suddenly a touch more serious, as if the question genuinely intrigued him, “I can’t help but wonder why you actually do it. For me, personally, waking up next to a lovely lady who made the night worthwhile is kind of the best part...”

"Are you asking about the psychological aspects behind it?" You raised an eyebrow. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Elle tilt her head slightly, clearly intrigued. "I don’t know. Something from childhood, probably. Everything stems from there, doesn’t it? Or maybe the reason is something else," you lowered your voice to a near conspiratorial whisper, leaning in closer to their faces as if about to reveal some great secret. "I simply enjoy it. As they say, you don’t pry into people’s bedrooms or wallets."

"That rule doesn’t apply to our friendship, sweetheart."

You chuckled at the remark; sometimes, you really did share a lot with each other. In any case, your response had nothing to do with modesty or shame on those topics. You chose to answer evasively because you didn’t feel like describing how addictive that feeling of escape was, how much control it seemed to give you. How your heart would race in those moments, and how all your fucking lives seemed to flash before your eyes then. 

It was sick, many people have already told you that. Still, you couldn't stop.

"Good morning, everyone." Suddenly, JJ burst in, clutching a briefcase the size of an encyclopedia under her arm. "Hotch wants to see us all in five minutes, we have a new case. You'll find out everything in a moment, but I’ll say right away that it looks like a little trip is in store. Bring warm jackets."

"Mercy, not another case from Alaska..." Morgan started, rolling his eyes.

"Not this time. By the way, has Reid already arrived?"

Elle glanced around and shrugged.

"I don’t see him. Besides, if he were here, he’d already be telling us everything about the weather conditions in Alaska."

"Strange," Derek muttered under his breath. "I can’t remember the last time he was late."

You fixed your gaze on your shoes, as if there was something fascinating about them.

"It’s not like him," JJ agreed, a little worried. "Maybe I should call him..."

"He’s definitely stuck in traffic," you interjected quickly, forcing yourself to sound casual, though you tensed up involuntarily. The thought of confronting Spencer slightly scared you, though you wouldn't admit it to yourself. "I’m almost 100% sure. Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading out?"

You changed the subject, nodding toward the exit with your chin. And then, by accident, you made eye contact with Elle.

Elle, who knew you better than anyone.

Elle, who always, always knew when you were lying or hiding something. And whose eyes widened when she realized.

Feeling the blood rush to your ears, you subtly shook your head, silently pleading for her not to speak. But she, to your horror, opened her mouth.

"You two, go ahead," she directed at Morgan and JJ. Then she fixed her intense, demanding gaze directly on you. "We’ll join you in a minute. I need to have a word with our girl, privately."

Barely were you alone when she exclaimed:

"Did you sleep with Reid?!"

"Goddammit, Elle, could you say it any louder?" you hissed, glancing toward the door where your colleagues had just disappeared moments ago.

"Why not? So, you had sex with Dr. Spencer Reid...!"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE..."

"...our genius boy and a member of the same team?!"

"I’m fucking sure even Strauss heard that in her office," you sighed. "But yes, I did it, I regret it, and most importantly, this has to stay between us. Not a word to Derek, JJ, or Penelope, understood?"

To your surprise, Elle burst into laughter and raised her hands in a defensive gesture.

"You know I wouldn’t tell anyone without your permission. I was just playing around Anyway..." she sighed. "I find it hard to believe. You two? Honestly, there’s always been something between you…”

"No," you interrupted her sharply. The words left a ringing in your head. "There was nothing between us."

"So, you decided to sleep together just like that, out of boredom?"

"We need to go, Elle. The rest is probably waiting for us."

You moved forward, your friend trailing right behind you, like that little voice in the back of your mind urging you to order pizza at midnight.

"Oh, one more thing. You said you regret it. So, what, our genius didn’t meet your expectations..."

"End of discussion..."

"Last thing, you told me not to mention it to Garcia, Morgan, or JJ. What about Hotch? Can I tell him?"

You couldn’t keep up the seriousness any longer and burst into laughter, joined by Elle.

"Tell me what?" a voice called from behind you.

Fuck multiplied by twelve thousand seventy-nine.

Somehow, your boss appeared in the same hallway, probably heading to the same room where you were going to be briefed on your next case. You noticed how all the amusement disappeared from Elle’s face. You both exchanged a look, like teenagers caught smoking a cigarette by their parents.

You both turned, silently negotiating through eye contact—arguing, really, over who should speak up and save the situation. It fell to you.

"Um... we were wondering... if we should tell you... that we absolutely love your tie. It's so... red and... long..." It was only then that you noticed it was a gray tie. "Not that one. Another one. Absolutely stunning. And I’m actually looking for a birthday gift for a friend. He’s... a huge fan of... ties."

You tried not to look at Elle, fearing she might burst into laughter. She already seemed like she was suffocating inside. Improvisation was never your strong suit; you always had to say too much.

"So, I hope you don’t mind me asking where you bought it. That’s exactly the kind of tie I’m looking for. Red..." You bit your tongue before you could say long again. "Good quality. One that you’d just want to untie..."

Hotch’s completely stoic expression didn’t help.

"Oh." Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t even greeted him. "Good morning, boss. Are you having a good day?"

"Average," he replied, completely ignoring your whole tie spiel.

Silence fell. Elle stared at the floor, and the corners of her mouth twitched dangerously.

"Let’s get to work," Hotch suggested, clearing his throat. He extended his hand, gesturing for you to go ahead. As soon as you turned, you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. "I got it from Hailey," he spoke to you in a quieter tone, opening the door to the room where the rest of the team was already gathered. "But if you really care, I can ask her where she bought it."

Sometimes you had a hard time figuring out if the guy was serious or just messing with you.

"I’d be greatly appreciative," you managed to say, quickly passing him and taking a seat at the long table.

You heard Elle whispering to Morgan something that started with "You won’t believe this…” and contained a combination of the words red, long, and untie.

Actually, saying that all the team members were inside wasn’t entirely true. One of them was missing.

"Reid’s late?" Penelope wondered, just as your gaze fell on his empty seat.

"Let’s start without him," Hotch decided. "This can’t wait. JJ?"

She handed out the case files to everyone and moved to the screen, where the most important details and photos related to the case were being displayed.  Before he could even say a word, a late Spencer burst into the room.

"Sorry, really, sorry..." he said frantically. "I know this never happens, but I overslept..."

He stopped mid-sentence as soon as his eyes met yours. It felt like he might as well have shouted, Hey, you know we had sex last night? and it would have been less suggestive. Or maybe it was just your inner paranoid voice talking.

"You could’ve informed us you’d be late," Hotch said.

Reid was still desperately trying to catch your eye, even though you were determinedly focusing on everything except him. It wasn’t until a moment later that he realized Hotch had said something to him, and he sighed in surprise, snapping back to reality.

"Oh... yeah, I should have. Definitely. Actually... I actually sent a message to y/n."

At that moment, all eyes turned to you. You furrowed your brow. There was no way he had written or called you — you would have heard it… which, of course, didn’t mean you would have replied. Your hand went to your pocket…

"I forgot my phone."

Only then did you look at Reid, your expression should have given him the message you intended. I left my phone at your place...

“I’ll look for it for you,” he offered. He immediately panicked, probably realizing that you'd rather keep your night together a secret. “I mean, I’ll help you look for it. If you want…”

“Reid, please, sit down,” Hotch stopped him from completely humiliating both of you. At that point, you had a burning desire to bang your head on the table. “And close the door.”

“Right…”

He followed the order and took a seat next to JJ, across from you, sending a small, uncertain smile. You didn’t react, your face remained unreadable, even irritated by how much he was giving away about what had happened between you.

Still, seeing his slightly wrinkled shirt, the same one he wore the previous evening when he opened the door for you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Those small imperfections in the fabric were, of course, from how hastily you had removed it and tossed it to the floor, where it had stayed all night…

The first time you had met outside of work, as two ordinary friends and not colleagues, was a few weeks ago. You had to drop by his place in the evening to pick up some documents you needed for the next day at work.

“Thank god,” you sighed as the door opened. “Elle isn’t picking up at all. I have no idea what she’s doing or where she is, and I seriously need this. If I don’t bring it, I can pretty much say goodbye to BAU.”

Only then did you lift your gaze to the man standing in front of you, too absorbed in your panic over the missing papers to actually take a good look at him. One hand rested on the doorframe, dressed in a sweater vest with the collar of a shirt peeking out beneath it.

“I’m glad I could help,” he replied. Thin-framed glasses rested on his nose, which he only wore occasionally for work. It was a shame because they suited him well. “But I’m sure Hotch wouldn’t throw you out just for being one day late.”

“I’ve been putting it off for three weeks.”

“That definitely changes things. Are you coming in? I need to... check if I have everything. “I’m really sorry, but you actually called just a moment ago and I didn’t manage to…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved a hand reassuringly. “I should’ve reached out earlier and not bothered you at this hour. But since you’re inviting me, I’m coming in. I’ve never been to your place before.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” he assured you as you both walked further into the apartment. The lighting was dim, creating a cozy and relaxed atmosphere.

You stopped in the living room when a familiar sound reached your ears—a melody you knew all too well. Without a second thought, you followed it to its source.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed in surprise, coming to a halt in front of the glowing TV screen, its bright light cutting through the dim surroundings.

“What?” Spencer finally noticed you had wandered off and joined you a minute later. “Oh, sorry. I was watching it earlier and forgot to turn it off…”

“No!” You stopped him before he could reach for the remote. “Don’t you dare. History’s Mysteries is my favorite show.”

Spencer looked at you as though he expected you to burst into laughter any second and admit you were joking. But no, you genuinely, wholeheartedly loved that program. Especially the episodes about extraterrestrial life—deep down, you’d always been a bit of a nerd.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pretending to be annoyed.

“What?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “You think just because I’m hot, I can’t have any intellectual interests?”

He widened his eyes, shaking his head.

"Don't put those words in my mouth. I’d never say—or even think—something like that."

"That I’m hot?"

"No! What? I mean… I wouldn’t assume you couldn’t have intellectual interests just because you’re…"

"Hot," you finished for him, letting out a laugh. "Relax, Reid, I’m just messing with you. By the way, you have a really nice apartment. Honestly, I kind of expected, I don’t know, a lab or something."

"Well, so far, you’ve only seen the living room," he replied.

"And I'd love to see the rest of it," you announced, rocking slightly on your heels. "But I haven't seen this episode yet, and I'm very curious about what it's about."

You noticed him hesitate, clearly unsure how to respond.

"Unless, of course, you don’t want me to stay. Maybe you're expecting someone. A girl or a guy?"

"No, no, I’m not expecting anyone," he replied quickly, swallowing nervously. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—barely noticeable, but it was there. "You’re absolutely not bothering me. Actually, it’ll be... it’ll be nice to have you stay. But, um... the documents. I should—I'll go get those ready for you. Would you like something to drink?"

 "...Four bodies were retrieved from a hole in the ice of a completely frozen lake. All the victims were young girls, aged thirteen to nineteen and each of them was involved in prostitution."

You were brought back to reality by JJ's words. You felt someone's gaze on you, surprisingly not from the direction you had expected. It was Gideon, and you were sure he had noticed the strange tension between you and Spencer. That was likely the reason behind his scrutiny. You had always thought he was a solid guy, but at times, he scared you. He looked at people as if he could see their original sin, not just theirs, but also that of five generations back in their family.

You shuddered, but for another reason. The subject... frozen lake, bodies pulled out... even though so many years had passed, and you could barely remember the event, the chill still crept down your spine, and your heart raced like you were running away.

"Wait a minute," Derek said, furrowing his brow thoughtfully. "How thick could the ice be on that lake?"

"Given the current almost extreme temperatures, probably around 50 inches. That's thick enough for even cars to move safely on it," Reid explained without hesitation.

You sighed, trying to hide a fleeting smile. You just... sounded like a fetishist, but you couldn't deny that it was a little exciting when he did that. He delivered long, flawless explanations, all while looking genuinely fascinated by the topic. It didn't matter what you were talking about.

Elle raised an eyebrow. You decided to ignore her.

 “Doesn’t it make you wonder how he managed to cut a hole in the lake, in such thick ice, without anyone noticing?” Morgan continued.

 “Actually, he didn’t have to do it personally,” Reid replied again. He took off his glasses and thoughtfully turned them in his hands. “Under different weather conditions, we might consider that, but these were most likely holes made for other purposes. Fishing, mostly, but also to test if the ice can support vehicles, for example. The unsub could have simply shown up, discarded the body, and that’s it.”

You all started the discussion on the topic without your input. You should have stayed focused, but you couldn't help but keep glancing back at his long fingers, holding the glasses...his touch so delicate and skilled…

The door opened once again, just like every Sunday, when the two of you caught up on the weekly episode of the show. After you stayed over at his place once to watch it together, it simply became a tradition. An unspoken one.

With each meeting, you talked less and less about work. It was still kept in a purely friendly atmosphere—otherwise, you wouldn't have shown up. You weren't looking for a committed relationship, but lately, the usual physicality wasn't enough, and you needed a new conversation partner on a deeper level. The range of your topics was vast, from casual chatter to deep analyses of the content you watched (you could talk for hours about conspiracy theories), or serious yet comforting conversations about life and the world.

"Where's my pillow?" you asked, pointing to the spot on the left side of the couch where you always sat.

"I spilled coffee on it, by accident. It's in the laundry. Sorry."

"Did you really just apologize for taking your pillow from your own apartment?"

"Sorry, It’s just my thing”

You both burst out laughing, sitting side by side on the couch.

"I miss something to rest my head on," you complained after just a minute. "I’ve got neck pain from sleeping on the jet."

"So, you should definitely sleep on a flat surface," he teased. "See, I took the pillow out of concern for you."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Spencer Reid before you. The man who will always find a scientific reason to make your life harder. Maybe I should just sleep on a bed of nails instead of a mattress, huh?"

“I just suggested a slightly flatter surface! Where did the nails come from?”

“That’s the same to me. I need softness.”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can bring you a pillow from my bedroom.”

“The episode is starting.”

“I’ll be back in a second…”

“Oh, and then you’ll complain you can’t talk about the plot because you missed the first minute, and so much probably happened,” you stopped him from getting up, grabbing his wrist. “Sit. I’ll survive the neck pain. Or… or I’ll just lie down here.”

Saying this, you simply rested your head on his lap, settling comfortably on your side.

 “What did the autopsy reveal?” Elle asked. “Did the victims die from drowning, or were their bodies just dumped in the water with a different cause of death?”

You should have focused on the case at hand, but you couldn’t shake the discomfort this topic caused you. No wonder your thoughts kept straying to more pleasant places as you tried to distance yourself from it. Still, you read through the case files, knowing you had to stay focused to solve this. Lives depended on it.

“They were all alive when they were thrown into the water,” JJ said with tightly pressed lips. “And each of them suffered a heavy blow to the head.”

“That’s how he abducts them,” Derek summarized. “Knocks them unconscious with a strong hit. Maybe he pretends to be a client, and once they leave with him, he strikes.”

“The question is, why specifically the lake’s ice hole?” you mused, tapping your nails on the table in an anxious gesture. “Is it purely practical? Did he think it was the easiest place to dispose of the bodies?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos of the drowning victims—it felt like self-inflicted torture. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Reid staring at you differently than before. Once, you’d told him a story about something that happened to you as a child, more like a casual anecdote than a heartfelt confession. Even so, you thought you saw some worry etched on his face.

For the first time since he walked through the door, you met his eyes directly, responding to his desperate attempts to catch your gaze. Surprised that you finally looked at him, he froze, his slightly parted lips emitting a short sound as if he wanted to say something but forgot what it was at the last second.

"No... I don't think so," he finally said, drawing out the syllables absentmindedly. The slight furrow in his brow suggested he was deep in thought. "Bathing in water symbolizes cleansing from sin in many religions, both physically and spiritually. For example, in Christianity, baptism washes away original sin. Prostitutes are often the targets of serial killers who believe they’re purging society in some way. Since we’ve ruled out a sexual motive, maybe this is where we should focus our attention."

"That’s a good lead," Hotch agreed, as the rest of the team considered the analysis in silence. "In that case, we’re likely dealing with a religious fanatic. Such perpetrators often believe they’re acting in the name of God or some higher good. Worse still, they see their actions as morally justified, which means they feel no remorse."

"And that, in turn, means they won’t stop killing until they’re caught," Gideon concluded.

"Then there will soon be another victim. We need to move now," your boss decided, quickly straightening his papers against the table before tucking them into his briefcase. "See you on the jet in fifteen minutes."

Throughout the meeting, you'd laid out the victims' photos in front of you, studying them closely. Preoccupied with gathering them up, you could hear everyone heading toward the door, convinced you'd been left alone in the room.

But when you looked up, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Reid. Your breath hitched for a moment. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but you'd worked so hard to push the thought of it away…

"Hey," he greeted with a small smile on his lips. He seemed almost excited about the conversation. "I just wanted…to ask how you're doing."

You shrugged, forcing indifference.

"Fine, I guess."

You finished sliding the photos back into the case file, closed it, and pressed it to your chest.

"We should get going. Hotch gave us fifteen minutes, but the sooner we leave, the better..."

"You don't even want to talk to me?" he asked unexpectedly, shaking his head slightly in genuine disbelief. He swallowed hard and added, "About last night?"

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. You hated this—hated it with every fiber of your being. That awful moment when you had to tell someone you'd spent the night with that it didn’t mean anything to you, that you didn’t want to keep seeing them, let alone get involved. And it was so much worse this time. This wasn’t some random guy. This was Spencer—your friend, someone you genuinely cared about, whose friendship you couldn’t afford to lose, especially since you worked together.

Your body was conditioned to run, to escape. Waking up in someone else’s bed always signaled an immediate sprint to the finish line. But this time, it felt like you’d tripped over an untied shoelace barely a meter in.

"There’s nothing to talk about," you replied. The strange tension of being in the same room with him again, just the two of you in this small space—so much like last night—settled over you. "Actually, wait. There is. I think I left my phone at your place, though it might’ve fallen somewhere in the car. Could you look for it when we get back?"

He didn’t respond. You weren’t sure why, but you kept your gaze fixed anywhere but on him—his shirt, the space behind him, anything to avoid his eyes. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you should look directly at him, let your words carry the weight they were supposed to.

Spencer suddenly let out a short, sharp laugh, filled with shock and maybe even… sarcasm?

"Did it really mean so little to you that you can't even look at me?"

You gave in and lifted your gaze. His head tilted slightly to the side, his brow furrowed. He looked somehow hurt even though hurt seemed too strong a word.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how you disappeared this morning. I thought maybe you were in a rush or didn’t want to wake me, but when I got there, you barely even looked at me. Sorry—actually, you looked at me only once”

"What did you expect, that I’d throw myself at you and kiss you?"

"No, I expected that we’d talk about it like normal people."

"But there’s nothing to talk about. It happened, and that’s it. I don’t see any reason we should have to debate about it..."

Spencer wasn’t angry, like others might have been. He was simply stunned.

"I don’t understand this," he finally confessed, adjusting his glasses on his nose. It was as if they suddenly became a bother, so he adjusted them again, then, after a moment of hesitation, took them off. "Do you regret what happened?"

“No,” you answered quickly, it was the first honest thought that came to your mind. You pinched the bridge of your nose, unable to find the right words. “Well… I don’t regret it in the way you might think. It’s just… I’m not sure what you expect from me now. We spent one night together, it was amazing, but I don’t have anything more to offer you.”

“I don’t want you to offer me anything,” he said, irritation beginning to creep into his voice, though it didn’t seem to be directed at you. “The only thing I want is… to understand where we stand now. Look, we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, I thought you liked me…”

“Because I do like you,” you interrupted him mid-sentence. "Let me be honest with you, Reid. I don’t do relationships. And just so you know, I don’t usually sleep with my friends either, but it happened, and I can’t undo it, nor would I want to. Because I enjoyed it, I like you, and I have a great time when I’m with you. And up until now, I’ve really enjoyed how things have been between us. I don’t want anything to change."

You summed up what had been weighing on your heart, hoping with all sincerity that he’d understand. Spencer leaned his hands on the back of an empty chair, turning his body slightly toward you.

"So," he said, letting out something between a chuckle and a pained sigh. "Maybe you shouldn’t have gone to bed with me."

"Listen, sex doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a physical act, it doesn’t affect our friendship in any way."

 "Do you really believe that?"

“Yes, I do,” you insisted stubbornly, refusing to let yourself even blink. Spencer turned his face toward you, looking for signs of a lie or uncertainty in your expression.

He wouldn’t have been able to find any, even if he tried with all his might. Because you were a brilliant actress. And it wasn’t that you hid your feelings so well. It was more that everything about you was so contradictory that it created a whole range of possible interpretations. And Spencer, with his deeply rooted need to hurt himself and test his own worth, chose to settle on the one that would guarantee him that.

“Well, good for you,” he finally replied, before leaving the room completely, not even turning back over his shoulder.

For a moment, you stood in silence, unable to identify what you were actually feeling. In truth, your earlier words had been honest. You cared about your friendship, the connection, the conversations, and the time spent together. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny that he simply attracted you. Just yesterday, you had convinced yourself it was probably just curiosity. Sometimes people wonder what it would be like to try something with a friend, they do it, and then all those similar thoughts fade away.

But was it the same for you two?

Your head and shoulders had been resting on his lap for a while, your cheek comfortably pressed against his thigh, and the glow of the TV occasionally lit up your focused face when something brighter appeared on the screen.

Spender seemed tense about the position for just a minute, then, for the next five, he was simply surprised. Although you focused your attention on the program, you could feel his gaze falling on your figure from time to time, stopping on it for a moment. After ten minutes, you were both lying comfortably, with mutual ease, and after an unknown amount of time, one of his hands was resting on your side.

Every now and then, you spoke to each other, exchanging short, often sarcastic comments about the episode. During one of these interactions, something caught your attention.

"Where are your glasses?" you asked. You turned onto your back, resting the back of your head on his lap instead of your temple and cheek.

You could look up at him from that amusing, lower perspective, from which everyone looks particularly unflattering. You smiled at his expression when he tilted his head to look at you.

"Oh, I have them here," he replied, lifting the glasses he must have set on the couch.

"But why aren’t you wearing them?" You could swear that when you started watching, they were on his nose. You had noticed because you really liked how he looked in them.

He shrugged.

"You’re straining your eyes. Put them on," you asked.

Spencer moved his hand as if he wanted to reach for them, but at the last moment, he hesitated.

"I... I don’t exactly like how I look in them," he finally confessed.

After those words, you stared at the ceiling for a moment, then pushed yourself up on your elbow, almost aggressively. His eyebrows shot up at that.

"You must be joking."

"What?"

"I said, you must be joking. You look great in them. They really suit you," you assured him, sitting up. "You know, when I was a teenager, I always wanted to wear glasses. I even envied the girls with poor eyesight."

"You know, I’m fully aware you’re saying this just to get me to wear them?"

"True, you got me. Did it work?"

"Not really."

You bit your lower lip, thoughtfully considering a certain idea.

"Okay, give them to me for a moment," you asked, extending your hand. "I’ll tell you something that will convince you to wear them. From now on, you’ll even sleep in them. Well, maybe especially sleep in them."

He tilted his head, trying for a moment to read your intentions from your face, but he couldn’t. He sighed and handed you the glasses.

"Don’t..."

"Don’t grab them by the lenses, I know that," you finished, rolling your eyes. "I’m not some animal."

With his glasses in hand, you changed your position on the couch, kneeling so that you were more or less facing each other.

"I’m waiting for your arguments," he said, his voice sly, to which you raised an eyebrow.

"Well, this will be an argument combined with a little presentation," you clarified. "Have you ever heard of the glasses theory?"

"Is that an actual concept in human psychology, or something you just made up? If it’s the latter, I’m afraid I haven’t”

Listen, it’s very simple, but you’d better focus on me," you demanded, ignoring his previous remark.

"I’m focused."

Indeed, he was. His gaze was fixed on you with such intensity and engagement, as if you were about to deliver a speech that could change the fate of the universe. Or maybe it just seemed that way because you were so close to each other.

"Forgive me for the unacademic language, Doctor, but I don’t like to complicate things too much. This theory says that with glasses, you can only look one of two ways: smart or hot."

Spencer had already chuckled, ready to jump in with a sarcastic comment, but you pressed your finger to his lips, moving even closer.

"Don’t interrupt me for now, I’m not done yet. This theory also says that your look in glasses will always be the opposite of your usual, everyday look. So, if without them you look like the typical intellectual who knows the meaning of every word in the dictionary, then in them…" You paused, tilting your head to the side. Up until now, your finger had been resting on his lips, which it had landed on by chance, but you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing it along his chin and jawline. He didn’t take his eyes off you, which only made it harder to stop. "In them, you look really, really attractive. Like, you know, sexually attractive”

You felt his chest rise. You felt it because one of your hands was resting on it as you sat on his lap, though you had no idea how you had ended up there. Spencer had been entirely focused on your face until now-on your speaking lips, not on how your bodies were positioned in relation to each other. He exhaled, loudly, far too loudly for comfort, the breath he'd been holding in. The sound escaped as you settled your full weight on his lap instead of just hovering above it.

“Do you really mean that?”

Yes, you wanted to respond briefly, right into his ear.

“That’s the theory. And I… I agree with it. I even have another example. You won’t deny that I’m hot, right? It’s just something people think when they see me. A statement of fact. So… when I put on glasses…” Saying this, you slid his glasses onto your own nose. Your entire field of vision blurred slightly, making it hard to see his reaction. You could only feel how his body responded..“Well? How do I look?”

He didn’t answer. His breathing grew deeper, his pulse quicker. You knew this because your hand, which had been exploring every corner of his face, had already made its way to his neck and decided to stay there for a while.

“Spencer,” you prompted, “I asked how I look.”

He lowered his head, the top of it brushing against your sternum, lingering there for a moment. When he straightened again, his eyes were in constant flux, like those of someone torn by too many desires at once.

“Smart,” he replied, his voice barely audible, the word catching in his throat. “Now you look really smart.”

You shifted higher on his lap, drawn to him by the pull of his voice.

“Smart,” you repeated with a laugh, your tone edging toward a whisper, slipping between the two of you and filling the small space like liquid poured into a vessel. “That confirms the theo—…”

You broke off when his lips finally surged toward yours, impatient and pushed to the very edge of restraint. His jaw pressed against yours, forcing your entire body to tilt back. You swayed on his lap, both of his hands falling tou your hips, his fingertips pressing firlmy into your skin to hold your body at the same place, right next to him, close, closer. 

The kiss, born of desperation, quickly transformed into the release of a long-hidden hunger shared by you both. It was equal on every level, matched in intensity and force.

In the midst of it all, you lost your breath, repeatedly pulling your lips away from his to gasp for air, only to reconnect moments later. One of those brief pauses drew a wretched, urging whimper from him.

It was around then that you felt the pressure, growing stronger against your core.

An involuntary smile spread across your lips, breaking the kiss, during which you briefly took control, tilting his neck back for better access. Pulling away by barely an inch, you managed to notice that his barely open eyelids were still fixed on your lips, glistening with saliva and flushed with desire.

“Spencer? What is it? “

After asking that question you pressed yourself to his hips, pointing to the obvious hardness. His eyes widened, as if all the previous actions had taken place far beyond his body, to which he had only just returned. He inhaled sharply, his fingers gripping your body firmly and decisively as if trying to slide you off his lap. Something in the intensity of his touch and his attempt to take control only made you cling to him more.

“Didn’t expect you to be that hard after a kiss, but maybe it’s my fault” You muttered a joke under your breath, your lips briefly marking the space along his jawline, chin, and finally his lips. In the meantime, while one of your hands remained firmly on his neck, the other decisively reached its target. Then, griped it through the fabric of his pants. His lips parted, b loout no sound came out; it seemed to have been swallowed by his surprise. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

Your hand remained still, waiting for an answer. At first, he was silent, focused on his own breathing, not looking at your face, which you found quite unsettling.

"Spencer, I want you to answer me."

When he hesitated again, you gently brushed your lips against the lobe of his ear. But before you could repeat your request, he unexpectedly pulled both of you to the side, positioning you beneath him.

You gasped, surprised by the shift in dynamics.

“I want this” he whimpered into your ear, covering it with his mouth along with the space around it. “I really, really want this, please…”

But was it the same for you two? 

You repeated the question in your mind and recalled how, arched like a bow, you placed the glasses on his face, wanting to see him wear them as he made you come. 

You stood there in the empty room, replaying that moment in your head, well aware that you should join the rest of the team, but not so sure about the answer 

*

"Please don’t tell me that those fifteen minutes when you were alone..."

"Disgusting, Elle, you’re just disgusting."

Your friend, sitting across from you on the jet, smiled as if you’d just given her a compliment. The rest of the team either engaged in conversation with each other or reviewed the case files once more, looking for new clues. Reid belonged to the latter group, though his absent expression didn’t suggest he was deep in thought about the case. But you made an effort not to look at him, feeling a bit guilty for how things had unfolded.

"What exactly did you tell him?"

"That I don’t date and I’m not looking for anything serious."

"You just told him that?"

"What was I supposed to do, draw him a picture?"

"It’s not about that, it’s just..." Elle hesitated, unsure of what she wanted to say. She didn’t seem as cheerful as before. "I guess you didn’t say it that directly, right? Don’t get me wrong, but it’s kind of... cruel."

Her gaze briefly shifted toward the subject of your conversation, looking concerned.

"Would you have come to that conclusion if it were any other guy you didn’t know?"

She sighed.

"Probably not, and that’s why I think I’m having some sort of moral crisis."

You fell into a bit of an unpleasant mood for the rest of the flight. Unsure of what else to do, you decided to think a bit about the case and the murders. You even came to a conclusion and were about to stand up to discuss it when it hit you that you wanted your conversation partner to be...Reid. You sighed and stopped halfway, not knowing if he was ready to talk to you again.

Soon enough, you arrived in the small town where the murders had taken place. Naturally, you headed straight to the site where the bodies were discovered. Bundled up in thick down jackets, the crunch of deep snow underfoot accompanied your every step. You busied yourself talking to the local police, deliberately keeping your distance from the lake. The vast expanse of frozen water seemed to glare at you, challenging and mocking, as though daring you to come and play. Every glance at the ice awakened an inexplicable urge to sprint to its center, to feel the chills coursing through your body and surrender to a reckless exhilaration.

Rain drummed against the bridge like a barrage of tiny bullets, sharp and unrelenting, as if determined to pierce straight through you. You stood huddled beneath an umbrella with Reid, but both of you were already soaked to the bone, shivering from the relentless cold.

“Where the hell are they?” you asked through chattering teeth.

As part of your investigation, you and Reid had been sent to a nearby high school to interview the teachers of a missing teenager. The rest of the team had been assigned different tasks, and someone was supposed to pick you up at the agreed-upon spot and time so you could regroup and share your findings. But the wait was dragging on far longer than expected.

“I’d just like to remind you that you laughed at me when I took this umbrella, saying there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky and it definitely wouldn’t rain,” Spencer remarked, switching the umbrella from his red, cold hand to the other one he had been keeping warm in his coat pocket.

You looked at him with envy. Your jacket didn’t even have pockets, and you started wondering why you’d even bought it in the first place.

“This is not the time to point fingers at me,” you retorted. “This is the time to make sure I don’t die of hypothermia. Come closer. And don’t stand so close to the railing.”

“We’re nearly two meters away from it,” he pointed out, but still followed your request and stepped forward. You took the opportunity to shove your hands into his coat pockets for even a momentary bit of warmth. His coat smelled like rain, and your nose accidentally brushed against it. Your hands touched his in one of the pockets.

“Jesus, it’s like touching an ice cube,” he muttered.

“You still have feeling in your hands?”

“Still do, but I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time,” he replied.

“They’ll freeze and have to be amputated. We’ll be the only two handless FBI agents. Hotch will never send us on an assignment together again,” you joked.

He chuckled softly and shifted the umbrella to his other hand once again. For a moment, you both stood in silence—him staring at the river flowing beneath the bridge, and you gazing toward the direction where you hoped your rescue would arrive.

“Can I ask you a question?” he broke the silence, looking down at you.

You were standing so close, your hands buried in his coat pockets, that you had to tilt your head back significantly to meet his gaze.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Are you afraid of water?”

You stared at his face, taken aback by the question. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and for some inexplicable reason, you felt a sudden urge to push it back.

“Why do you ask?”

He shrugged.

“It’s just something I noticed today—though, of course, there’s a possibility I’m wrong. But we’ve been standing on this bridge for twenty minutes, and you haven’t looked down once. And you keep telling me to step away from the railing.”

“I’m just looking out for your safety, klutz,” you teased, lowering your gaze. He wasn’t wrong about the water, and it surprised you that he had even picked up on it.

“When I was six, I almost drowned in frigid water,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Spencer’s brows furrowed with concern.

“At least, that’s what I’ve been told,” you added before he could say anything. “Apparently, my dad took me and my sisters to a lake to go ice skating. He used to go there as a kid with his siblings, and the ice was always thick enough that no one even considered it might break. But that was twenty years earlier. He didn’t account for climate change. The ice cracked right beneath me.”

“God,” he sighed. “You know… maybe it’s for the better that you don’t remember it. At least not exactly.”

 “Maybe. Apparently, I spent the next two weeks in the hospital with pneumonia, but I don’t have a single memory of that. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I shudder at the mere sound of water.”

 “Your body must remember what your mind suppressed. But wait, didn’t you have to pass a swimming test to get into the FBI?”

 “I did. But it was in a pool, where the water was calm and not trying to kill me. Hey, do you see that car? Isn’t that for us?”

After a few hours, you began to appreciate living in a state where winters were mild. Your hands were even colder than they had been that time on the bridge, despite wearing leather gloves. The hood over your head muffled the sounds around you so much that the first time Hotch called your name, you didn’t even hear him. You only approached him when you noticed him waving in your direction.

Something in his expression made you quicken your pace.

“We have the unsub’s identity,” he said before you could open your mouth to ask what had happened.

The rest of the team had already gathered. Reid’s cheeks were red from the cold, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He wasn’t looking at you, so you avoided looking at him.

“What?” you blurted, surprised. “How?”

“He abducted another victim, but this time he wasn’t as careful, and one of the cameras caught him. Using the footage, Penelope tracked down his information. She also found out that he came from a very poor family, and his sister turned to prostitution at the age of fourteen to support both of them.”

“I don’t understand. Then why does he kill young girls, just like his sister, who sacrificed herself for their survival?” Elle asked, suddenly appearing behind you.

Her question echoed in your mind.

“He thinks that by drowning them in freezing water, he cleanses them of the sin of prostitution—a sin he believes was unjustly forced upon them because of poverty,” you said suddenly, the chill biting into your body far more sharply than before.

“The unsub might even think he’s doing them a favor,” Reid added, animated, picking up your line of thought. “That he’s their savior, granting them a departure free of that sin.”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of admiration glinting in them. But then, as if reminded of everything, he quickly looked away. You felt like sighing. So this is how every single one of your interactions was going to look from now on?

“We need to catch him before he drowns another victim. We don’t have much time; it’s getting dark,” Hotch issued commands quickly. “Gideon, me, JJ, and Elle will head to one lake, Morgan, Y/N, and…”

“I should go with you,” Reid interrupted. “Elle can go with Morgan, and…”

“This is not up for discussion,” Hotch replied in a firm tone, a flicker of surprise crossing not just his face but everyone’s. When it came to time, his decisions were final. You all knew that. "Go," He commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Before you knew it, you were in the speeding car. The tension and sense of mission always left you silent, focused, and most of all, determined.

“He’s here. Do you see him? He’s dragging her toward the hole in the ice!”

Throughout all of it, not once did it cross your mind—the obvious fact that you’d have to set foot on the frozen lake. Before you even had a chance to react or fully realize it, Reid unexpectedly grabbed your sleeve, pulling you toward him. He seemed surprised by his own action, his eyes darting with adrenaline across your face.

“The ice won’t break, do you understand?” he said, not letting go of your arm. “It’s thick enough that cars can drive on it. “It’s safe, trust me. And if you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,” 

His voice was surprisingly steady, offering a sense of comfort that you hadn’t expected. You listened, almost stunned, not just by the care in his advice, but also by the fact that he was even speaking to you at all.

You didn’t have time to respond or even nod; the car came to a stop, and every second counted. Somewhere deep inside, though, you felt a surge of gratitude for his gesture and words. Because as soon as you set foot on the ice, it was as though your senses vanished. All that mattered was the water—cold, sinister, and waiting for you deep beneath the blue surface.

Morgan and Reid moved ahead of you, with the latter turning his head over his shoulder. You saw it, even as the darkness quickly closed in around you.

“If you feel like you can’t do it, just stay behind,” echoed in your mind.

But you couldn’t just stand there and watch while the victim’s life was hanging by a thread. Focusing entirely on his words and voice, you moved forward, gripping your weapon tightly, yet with a steady hand.

And it was your shot, fired in a moment of desperate resolve, that brought the unsub down, giving Morgan the chance to catch the unconscious victim in his arms and rush her to the shore as quickly as possible.

You stood there, breathless, still holding the gun high, completely unaware of it until someone gently touched your hands, guiding them downward.

“It’s me,” Reid said quietly as you flinched. Only then did it start to sink in that you were standing on the ice. Your imagination began to feed you the feeling of the bone-chilling cold, the water pressing against your body with all its might. After all these years, still so vivid. You grabbed onto his arms tightly, your legs suddenly slipping beneath you. Why hadn’t they slipped before?

“Hey, careful. The ice is thick, remember? It won’t break,” he reassured you.

He held you tightly, offering you support as you both made your way to the shore, taking small, uncertain steps. You could barely breathe, let alone speak. Yet, a question loomed in your mind, one you were desperate to ask: why was he even still with you? Why hadn’t he just left you there, maybe for some internal satisfaction? 

Finally, you were on solid ground, no longer gripped by panic. Still, your breath was rapid, every cell in your body shaking in spasms, but not in that teasing, playful way it had when you played the role of the bolter. 

“Why did you do it?” you asked, still holding onto him like a lifeline. “I thought you were mad at me.”

Before answering, Reid studied you in silence for a moment.

“I could be furious with you, but I wouldn’t leave you there, alone and scared,” he said.

You opened your mouth, a warmth spreading across your chest, something that felt almost like a comforting embrace. But before you could say anything, the rest of the team reached you, with Elle hanging onto your shoulder, her voice full of concern as she asked how you were feeling.

In the darkness and the flood of emotions, his face blurred, along with the faces of the others. You closed your eyes for a moment, surrendering completely.

It was only then that you began to calm down, though it would take many hours before your hands stopped shaking.

*

You nervously paced around the office, two pairs of eyes watching you with clear amusement.

"Do you think he called me in because of that whole tie incident?" you asked, nervously biting one of your nails. "Shit, it’s definitely about that. It was so inappropriate, he’s probably going to fire me."

"Calm down," Derek said to you, the corner of his mouth constantly rising and falling. "First of all, if Hotch were going to fire you for every dumb thing that comes out of your mouth, you'd be gone after a week. Second of all, it probably has nothing to do with that. Knowing you, it’s probably some overdue paperwork..."

"You’re not helping," you said, raising a warning finger.

Elle’s laugh mixed with her yawn.

"God, I’m exhausted from this day. I’m out of here. Call me later and let me know what this was all about," she kissed your cheek as a farewell.

You briefly hugged her with one arm.

"Keep your fingers crossed," you asked them as they walked away.

Both of them raised their hands, making the gesture.

It was evening, and you had just returned to the office after closing the case. You had hoped to head home and sleep off all the emotions from the day, but then you found out that Hotch had called for you. And you had no idea why.

Before opening the door with his name on it, you crossed yourself in your mind.

"Listen, Hotch, about that tie, it was really just some messing around," you blurted out, before even fully stepping inside.

The man sitting at his desk raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t alone—across from him, in a chair, looking like a student called to the principal’s office for punishment, sat Spencer, looking just as confused as you felt.

"Did you want to see me now? Or did I mix up the time or the days...?"

"I wanted to see both of you," he replied, pointing to one of the two chairs next to Reid.

You exchanged a brief glance with your colleague. Since your last interaction on the frozen lake, neither of you had spoken a word, but the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as before. That didn’t, of course, mean that everything between you was back to normal.

"Listen, I’m just as exhausted as you, but I need to have this conversation with you now so we can resolve it as quickly as possible."

You shook your head in confusion.

"Resolve what?" Reid asked.

"Whatever happened between you two," Hotch started seriously, his gaze moving between your faces. "Any argument, I don’t care what it was about or how serious it is, it cannot affect your work or professional relationship in any way."

You couldn’t help it and let out a laugh. You imagined Elle’s expression on the other end of the phone when you’d tell her the real reason behind this summons…

 "Hotch, there was no argument," you assured him, maybe not entirely honestly, but in an attempt to wrap up this somewhat, let's be honest, embarrassing conversation as quickly as possible.

 Spencer nodded enthusiastically.

 "Absolutely none. Never."

 "I'm not blind or, as you’re both well aware, stupid," Hotch continued, his gaze shifting between you both. "I can see what's going on, and I’m telling you now—I don’t want any conflict in my team."

You let out a snort.

 "So what are you going to do?" you asked challengingly. "Force us to shake hands and make up? If we do that now, can we finally go home?"

 He met your gaze, his expression as stoic as ever, but you were certain—absolutely certain—that deep down, he was amused by it all. To your surprise, he suddenly stood up from his desk.

 "No, I'm going to do something more effective," he declared. "I'm leaving you two alone for ten minutes. No one leaves this office. When I come back, everything needs to be settled. Understood?"

"Isn’t this some sort of elementary school method of discipline?" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrows, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw that beneath his amused expression, there was also a hint of concern.

"Exactly how it sounds," you agreed, briefly meeting his gaze before shifting it to your boss with a pleading look. "You're not our father, Hotch. We're adults, stop treating us like children..."

His hand landed on the doorknob without a moment’s hesitation.

 "Then stop acting like children and talk to each other," he said, glancing at his watch. "I’ll be back in ten minutes."

You could’ve sworn there was a subtle smile playing on his face as he left.

 You watched his figure disappear in disbelief.

 And then, you turned to Spencer, who was already staring at you.

[lexalovesbooks]

Update: all of this and I goddamn forgot to double-check I’d cast on the right number of stitches, I was all but done with my first row when I realized I had exactly one extra stitch

Steps to beginning knitting a blanket, a guide by me:

1. Choose your yarn and pattern

2. Check the patterns gauge. Make a swatch, because even though people say you don’t need to swatch for a blanket you know your tension is so tight you will end up with a blanket that is suitable for a small toddler and no one else if you don’t check.

3. Your tension is tighter than the pattern’s. Do Yarn Math.

4. To your surprise and delight, your yarn math tells you that you only need to add a few more rows to get the correct length. Delighted, begin casting on.

5. The dreaded long-tail blanket cast on. Measure out the yarn for twenty stitches, then octuple (?) that for the one hundred and sixty eight stitches your blanket will need.

6. Cast on in an entirely reasonably time, with little to no difficulty. Feel pleased with yourself

7. Squint suspiciously at the length of your cast on stitches. You are making a five-foot wide blanket, and yet these stitches do not look at all like they will be five feet long.

8. Retry your Yarn Math. Realize that you have horrifically miscalculated and need to cast on an additional sixty stitches.

9. Squint at the yarn left in your (not so) long tail. Look at all the stitches you have already cast on. Imagine having to undo them all and repeat them + sixty and decide you’ll take the risk of continuing to cast on with what you have.

10. Begin casting on again. The tail is getting shorter and shorter with every stitch you add, which is perfectly normal and even expected, but right now it’s making you feel like you’re in a horror story with an inevitable bad ending. Your brain frantically starts calculating how many more stitches you can wring out of your shrinking tail.

11. You have twenty stitches left. You do not think the remaining yarn in your tail has twenty stitches in it.

12. Start knitting faster. The faster you knit, the less time your yarn has to run out. Knitting is a race, and you are going to win.

13. The yarn tail has never looked shorter, but you only have five stitches left. Realize you might actually be winning this game of yarn chicken.

14. Finish casting on, two hundred and twenty two stitches. You have six inches left of yarn in your tail.

15. Proudly tell everyone you know that you managed to cast on an entire blanket with only six inches left of extra yarn. No one else knows what this means, but they nod and say ‘wow’ appropriately like they do.

16. Knit blanket

[wonderjanga]

I’m Not Brainwashed.

A blizzard hit Fawcett. It was a pretty harsh one too. His apartment doesn’t have heating too. So, Billy went on a journey to find a warm place to sleep.

First, he tried the corner owned by a nice old man. The man said he could bask in the store’s warmth until the store’s closing time.

Old Man: “I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here overnight.”

Billy: “There’s no need to apologize, Mister. It’s fine.”

Old Man: “But it isn’t. I wish I could keep you longer but I can’t. Here.” *gives Billy some wrapped sandwiches* “Come back tomorrow. I’ll let you stay again.”

Billy: *small smile* “I’ll try. Thanks, Mister.”

Billy would definitely come back tomorrow, but for now he had to find a place to sleep for the night. This was when Billy made the unfortunate mistake of going to the Rock of Eternity to get out of the cold for a moment.

Billy: *plops down in front of the throne eating one of the sandwiches given to him* “Hmm… Where am I gonna go now?”

Billy didn’t know that those would be his last words as he dozed off at the rock.

A full rest later…

Billy: *stirs awake* “Where am I…? The rock? Geez did I fall asleep?” *feels a buzz from his pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm and sees like 95 notifications* “-Oh my GODS.”

That’s how Billy found out the hard way never to sleep at the Rock. Turns out, to everyone else, he disappeared. For a WEEK. Damn (he feels like he deserves to curse in this situation) the Rock of Eternity and the weird way it makes time go by. Let’s see… He’d missed an emergency meeting, several messages from his friends, and an either concerned or subtlety threatening text from Batman. Okay. That’s concerning. Uh… You know what? Before he goes and talks to his friends, why doesn’t he go check on Fawcett first?

So, he left the rock, and guess what? The blizzard is still going. He’d be lying if he said this didn’t peeve him. Thankfully, it was daytime, so that means the Old Man would probably let him in the store again.

Old Man: “There you are! You had me worried.”

Billy: “Sorry.” *sounds ashamed*

Old Man: “There’s no need to apologize. It’s just, you said you would be back the next day, and you never came. I thought something had happened to you! I’ve been stress cooking ever since.” *puts a large bag of food into Billy’s hands*

Billy: “I didn’t mean to stress you. You don’t have to give me this.”

Old Man: “Yes I do.” *points to the spot Billy sat the day he had come in* “Now go sit and eat.”

Billy: “Yes, Mister.” *trudges over me eats, feeling bad for making the man worry*

Soon though, Billy had to leave again. He said goodbye to the Old Man and started walking to the blistering cold. He had to find another place to sleep. He looked up the now night sky. He had an idea. It was a stupid one, but it was an idea nonetheless.

The intercom over head announced Captain Marvel’s presence in the watchtower. Wally paused in eating the quadruple double triple quintuple sandwich he made himself. Wasn’t it like 10 pm in Fawcett or something? Cap almost never came to the Watchtower after seven unless it was for monitor duty. The speedster quickly finished his sandwich and decided to go see if something was wrong.

Eventually, he found the Captain near the sleeping quarters. Most members of the JL had one. That included Cap, but as far as Wally knew, Marvel hadn’t so much as stepped foot in that room.

“Cap, buddy! What’re you doing here so late?” Flash asked, causing Marvel to startle.

“Oh uh… I thought I’d get some sleep.” The Captain said, anxiousness rolling off him in waves.

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep?”

“Well, I don’t, but I still like to, y’know?” Marvel said, scratching the back of his neck.

Flash shook his head. “Not really.”

A small, out of place, awkward silence filled the hallway where they stood for a moment before Flash spoke up again, “Where have you been all week-”

“Night!” Cap cut him off, quickly entering the room and letting the door shut behind him, abruptly ending the conversation.

Wally stood there for a few moments. Okay… Something was definitely wrong with his buddy. Had the speedster done something to upset him? He turned to start walking away. He’d talk to his buddy later.

Wally got maybe seven feet away before he heard a loud crash that sounded like lighting and then loud alarms that started ringing throughout the Watchtower. Something about an intruder? Batman walked over to him. Where he came from, only god knows.

“Flash.” Bruce greeted him as he passed, stopping in front of the door Marvel disappeared into just a few moments before.

“Spooky, what’s going on?” Flash sped over to stand next to him.

”There’s an intruder in this room.” Batman replied, as soon as he finished speaking, another large crash of lightning could be heard. The alarm then stopped blaring. This made the Dark Knight pause and start tapping something on the tablet Wally just realized the other man was holding.

“Did something happen?” Wally asked, leaning over to try and see the tablet.

“The intruder is gone. The Watchtower’s also sustained two major electrical strikes that traveled through the tower, temporarily shut down anything in its way. They traveled to this room.” Bruce said.

It was at that moment, Marvel decided to make an appearance. He looked panicked, and when he registered Batman was standing in front of him, the panic seemed to increase. “Mister Batman Sir! Heeeeeeey…”

“Captain, there’s an intru-” Batman didn’t get to finish that sentence before Marvel interrupted him.

“Sorry Mister Batman Sir, but I really gotta be going.” Marvel said hurriedly before speed walking to the zetas. Wally and Bruce watched him go.

Billy should’ve known it was too stupid of an idea to work! He wanted to see if he could detransform and sleep in the bed of the room, but nooooooooo it just had to trigger the alarm. Billy wasn’t proud about interrupting so many (two) people today, but he really, really needed to go because as soon as Flash and Batman step into his room, they’re gonna see two dark lightning marks on the floor. Then they’re gonna try and ask questions. Then that’s gonna lead to Billy having to explain that he can summon lightning to change into a little kid. Then they’re gonna get mad Billy lied to them about being an adult. Then, they’re gonna try stopping him from being a hero, and from there his life as a hero and as Billy Batson will crumble to literal dust.

Around fifteen minutes after Marvel left… Flash was pacing, practically making trails in the ground, “Spooky, he was gone for a week! Not only that but he was acting weird and we got a notification of a security breach. This might sound crazy, but I think it might be that worm thing he mentioned.”

“Worm thing?” Batman asked, sounding incredulous. Wally was wondering why he found that of all the things they’ve seen and heard unbelievable.

“Yeah! He said one of his villains is this little worm that crawls into your ear and takes control your brain.” Flash said, one of his fingers doing a weird wiggling motion as if to resemble a worm.

“So you think he’s being mind controlled?” Supes asked, sounding super concerned. Oh right, he’s here too. He’d just gotten off monitor duty with J’onn. At the moment, the Martian was in the kitchen getting some snacks.

“Yes!” Flash exclaimed. “It could explain why he up and disappeared.”

“Flash, for all we know, he could’ve been gone due to a family emergency or something along those lines.” Batman spoke.

“Well… just to be safe…?” Supes started, sounding cautious as he trailed off and nodded to a nearby cabinet the three, or at least Clark and Bruce, knew housed bug spray.

That was how they ended up cornering Marvel in Fawcett, Superman restraining the man while Batman sprayed bug spray in his face and ears. Meanwhile Flash was standing to the side nervously, holding a jar in case a certain green worm actually crawls out of Marvel’s ear.

So yeah, today was not Billy’s day, let alone week. Also, it turned out that there was a magical creature that was causing the blizzards. He proceeded to promptly beat it up for all the trouble and embarrassment it inadvertently caused him.

Don’t ask why I stopped formatting the dialogue the way I normally do for a couple seconds. I don’t even know. That’s actually why I didn’t post around eleven like I normally do. It was taking a while.

[helluvapoison]

Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!

How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333

Lend A Helping Hand

Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening

warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not

[i]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart

• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt

• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”

• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake

• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings

• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!

• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color

• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more

• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet

• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)

• “A thousand times better, thank you,”

• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily

• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.

You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk

“Go. Away.”

“Yikes, tense much?”

Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare

“Adam!”

• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided

• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation

• He blames you for turning him into a liar

• “If you make it weird—!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”

• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration

• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers

• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”

• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done

• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments

• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her

• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings

• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now

• Lute is diligent in all she does

• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you

• She won’t let you ruin her reputation

• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)

• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done

• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”

˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first

• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t

• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt

• You look so damn pitiful!

• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches

• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings

• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain

• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather

• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”

• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”

• Significantly less nervous when she’s done

•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner

˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone

• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about

• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore

• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding

• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”

• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”

• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings

• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar

• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?

• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble

• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly

• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Elixir

wednesday addams x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: What happens when your best friend's roommate who you're always at odds with, suddenly becomes uncharacteristically affectionate towards you? Just what was in that mysterious bottle that set everything into motion?

word count: 1.9k

a/n: I've made a taglist! If you want to join, refer to this post

————

Friday nights at Nevermore Academy held different meanings for different students.  Some gathered for the Vampire Book Club, an all exclusive group that spent their evenings immersed in gothic horror novels.  Others were part of the secret society, kicking off the weekend by leaving cryptic messages and riddles around the school in search of their next recruit.  And then there were those fortunate enough to be welcomed home by their parents for the weekend.

But for you, Friday nights meant something different. You had no interest in secret clubs or cryptic hunts. Instead, you chose to spend the weekend cozied up with Enid for a movie marathon.

With a grin, the werewolf-in-training held up two DVDs, one in each hand. "Okay, we've got 10 Things I Hate About You and When Harry Met Sally."

You point to the hand holding the first film and Enid squeals excited to begin your long awaited movie night. It's been difficult finding a time where you both could commit to a long task like watching a movie without Wednesday getting in the way.

It wasn't that Wednesday particularly got in the way of these activities, but you both did. You two would inevitably clash when put in the same room together and be at each others throats until you were separated by some brave soul (most of the time Enid).

"Are you sure we won't be interrupted?" You ask as Enid climbed into the bed.  "I don't want to get my hopes up, and believe that I can actually have a moment of peace in your room," you added, recalling all the times you've stormed out of this very room due to Wednesday.

Enid bumps into her drawer as she climbs into bed and almost knocks off a glass bottle with a bulbous base, fortunately you were able to grab ahold of the dresser leg in time and stabilize the furniture before the glass bottle filled with liquid could fall.

"I should probably put this somewhere safer," Enid says grabbing the glass and walking it over to Wednesday's side of the room and placing it on her desk. "And yes Y/n, I've quadrupled checked.  She should be in the car by now, heading home.  Her mom was really insistent on her visiting this weekend, so she had no choice." Once Enid and you cozy up together in her bed and turn all the lights off, you hit play and the movie begins.

"Wednesday will literally deep cleanse this room if she found out we're watching rom coms in it," you laugh as Heath Ledger makes his appearance on screen.

Enid giggles, "Sometimes I think she's a secret romance lover, recently I found out she knew the plot to Clueless."

"No way!  I wonder what critiques she has about that film," you muse sarcastically. "She definitely had to feel some type of way about that yellow outfit."

Enid hums and you notice that she's now engrossed in the film.  Taking the cue, you focused on the screen as well, ready to enjoy your peaceful night together.

Only thing was, you couldn't.

As the film continues, all you can think about was how relieved you are that Wednesday isn't here.  How you don't have to listen to the incessant click-clack of her stupid type writer.  How you don't have to endure her cold, calculating gaze that always seems to dissect your every word and action, and especially how you don't have to listen to her sharp and cutting remarks that always seem to find their mark.

At some point during the movie Enid notices that you were not present and paused the film.  "Okay what's on your mind?"

Absentmindedly not registering her question, you respond, "Wednesday." Your eyes go wide, "Wait! I meant-"

She smirks, "You know Y/n/n, for someone who hates her, you bring her up an awful lot.

You scramble at Enid's statement. What was that supposed to mean? "She's just frustrating you know? Get's under my skin, obviously I'm gonna bring her up."

Wednesday suddenly enters the room following your explanation, and sits at her desk without a word. Then after a minute she speaks, "It's gratifying to know that my efforts have left the desired impact."

You didn't care that Wednesday walked in on you complaining about her however you did care that Wednesday walked in.

You give Enid a look, "I thought she wasn't supposed to be here."  The blue-eyed girl holds her hands up in defense, "She wasn't! I swear she was supposed to be back Monday morning."

She then turns to her roommate and asks, "Wens, what are you doing here? I thought your mom wanted to see you?"

"Something came up," the unconventional girl replies short, not explaining any further.

Enid knew that was the only explanation her roommate would give, and there was no point questioning any further. You however did not care, and narrowed your eyes at Wednesday. "Something came up?" That's all you're going to say? You're just going to crash our night with no explanation?"

Wednesday raises an eyebrow, her voice cool and detached. "I wasn't aware I needed your permission to be in my own room."

"You know that's not what I'm saying," you snap back, frustration bubbling up. "You always do this—just show up and take over, like no one else matters. We had plans, Wednesday."

"And now you have new plans," she replies evenly, not a trace of guilt or concern in her voice. "Plans that include me."

You let out a groan. "But that's your problem, you can't just conform to our plans. You always give Enid and I shit for the things we want to do and we always end up catering to your needs. This is exactly why we can't get along. You never consider anyone else's feelings. It's always about you, your needs, your twisted games."

Wednesday's gaze narrows, and her tone turns icier. "If you can't handle a simple change in plans, that's your weakness, not mine. My presence shouldn't be so disruptive unless you're letting it be."

Letting it be?! You couldn't just let this dark kooky girl think that she has some sort of effect on you.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Wednesday," you retort, standing your ground. "Your presence isn't 'disruptive' because I'm weak, it's disruptive because you deliberately make it that way. You thrive on pushing people's buttons, and I'm not about to give you the satisfaction."

Wednesday's expression remains unchanged, but there's a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement? "Is that so? Then why are you so bothered by it?  If I truly had no effect on you, you wouldn't even be arguing with me right now."

You clench your fists, struggling to maintain your composure. "Maybe I'm bothered because I care about Enid, and you're always in the way. Maybe I'm just sick of you making everything about yourself!"

Wednesday's eyes narrow further, and her voice drops to a whisper.  "You care about Enid, yet you argue with me, knowing it will disturb her. Perhaps you should examine your true motivations, because from where I stand, it seems you're more interested in clashing with me than in protecting her peace."

You scoff, "I don't know what you're implying." Behind your cool nonchalant front you were panicking, worried that Wednesday will say something that you did not want to hear.

You glance over at Enid who is picking at her nails, calculating the perfect time to break you and Wednesday up without getting hit in the crossfire.

"I'm sorry Enid," you say genuinely. As much as you hate to admit it, Wednesday was right, you're a hypocrite. You know how much it bothers Enid when you and Wednesday fought, yet you always find yourself caught up in these verbal battles with her.

Giving Wednesday one last glare, you storm out of the dorm room not knowing where exactly you're headed. All you know is that you're done with the movie night—and done with Wednesday.

As you march down the hallway, footsteps echoing behind you catch your attention. You don't slow down, but you know exactly who it is before she even calls out to you.

"Y/n, wait!" Enid's voice rings out, filled with concern. You sigh, your pace slowing down automatically.

Enid catches up to you, and grabs onto your arm incase you decide to storm off again. "Please talk to me, I know you're upset."

You find your frustration start to crumble as you sense the concern in your friend's eyes. "I don't know Enid," you begin, your voice quiet. "It's like every time I'm around her, I get so worked up. And tonight, I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm so tired of feeling like this, I'm just constantly on edge around her."

Enid carefully listens, her expressions softening with empathy as you speak. "I get it Y/n. But you don't always have to fight her. Sometimes walking away is the best thing you can do for yourself and for her."

You nod, understanding where Enid was coming from. "You're right, I guess it's just hard when she knows exactly how to get under my skin. And tonight when she accused me of arguing with her for some other reason, like it was something I wanted. It just got to me." You finish in a whisper.

"She has a way of getting to everyone, but that doesn't mean you have to let it affect you so much. You've got to take care of yourself too." She smiles gently.

"Yeah, you're right." As you look at Enid, you can see the worry in her eyes, not just for you, but for Wednesday too. You get it. Wednesday is her friend as well, and even though she came running after you, she's probably also concerned about how Wednesday's handling things. Not that anything in this world could really faze her, but still, Enid cares.

You sigh dreading your next words, "Go." Enid quirks her head to the right like a puppy. "Let's go back to your dorm, I have to grab my bag anyways, and... you should check on her."

Enid smiles in relief and gives you a quick hug before you stroll on back to the dorm room of the polar opposite girls.

As you approach the door a sense of unease starts to creep in, but you push it aside. You probably just didn't want to face Wednesday after your heated exchange.

When you open the door, the sight that greets you is... off. Wednesday is sitting at her desk, but something about her looks strange— her normally sharp posture seems a bit more relaxed, and her gaze, usually piercing, is unfocused, almost dreamy.

Before you can fully process this, you hear a soft rolling sound, and your eyes dart down to see Thing, casually pushing the glass bottle that Enid almost knocked over from earlier. It stops right at your feet. You pick it up, turning it in your hands. It's empty.

A chill runs down your spine as realization dawns on you. Wednesday drank whatever was in this bottle.

Enid steps closer, noticing your frozen expression and the empty bottle in your hand. Her eyes widen in alarm, quickly shifting to Wednesday, who now seems to be gazing at you with an intensity that's entirely different from her usual cold demeanor.

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is hesitant, as if she's afraid of what the answer might be.

Wednesday stands up slowly, her movements uncharacteristically casual. She steps toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, it feels like the air in the room has shifted.

"I'm glad you're back," Wednesday says softly, her voice carrying a warmth that catches you completely off guard.  "I was just thinking... how much better this night would be if you stayed."

Your heart skips a beat for reasons you do not know the answer to yourself. You exchange a bewildered glance with Enid, something is definitely not right.

The room falls silent, the tension thick as you both realize that Friday night just took an unexpected turn. Looks like your movie marathon will have to wait.

next chapter

[baxndaid]

Hiiiii i was just wondering if you could do some smutty billford x reader hcs please❤️ I loved the first batch sm

bill cipher x stanford x afab!reader silly little nsfw hcs , tw non-con i think minors dni pls , heres the last one x <-

as i established in the last post, i think ford would be too pussy to initiate anything with you at all

too pussy and too busy like sorry i think he'd rather just jerk off his stupid machines rather than himself

ford keeps you in the dark about a lot of the things he does, you, like fiddleford, know about bill but youve never interacted with him (as far as you knew)

first time you interacted with him was when he possessed ford for the first time and climbed up onto the roof while shrugging off your concerns for ford(s body)

remember when bill took a bunch of polaroids and recordings of himself taking a joyride in fords body?

can you tell where im going with this

he would definitely record it, violently taking your clothes off with one hand and holding the camcorder with the other, fumbling with the buttons of your blouse like he was drunk and didnt know how the fuck buttons worked

you were already super tired from quadruple-checking fiddleford's equations that day so having "ford" stumble in and touch you so desperately made you a little suspicious

especially the fact that he was recording it, ford is a very private man

he reeks of alcohol and his white dress shirt was stained, his tie loosened and his trench coat forgotten on the wooden floor

taking no time to be gentle, he would lie you down on a desk, the trinkets digging into your skin making you gasp

keeping one hand on your throat, he would prop up the camera on a neighbouring storage shelf, getting a perfect angle of the both of you

you didnt bother fighting back, he was far too strong to push away and the iron grip he had on your throat kept you from moving even an inch, it scared you

with his right hand now free, he gripped your hips and dragged your body further down the table, artifacts and small machines being knocked onto the floor, your jeaned crotch touching his

whenever you struggled out of instinct, he would simply squeeze your throat a little harder until you stopped moving again

as much as bill loved seeing you struggle, he wanted to have a clear visual on his camera so ford could be squeamish about it when he watched the tapes

he would probably use any rope or wire to tie your wrists together, its way easier to rip your jeans off when your arms arent flailing around trying to push him off

by the time hes finally taken all your clothes off, he'll probably take the camera off the shelf and give ford a close up of what hes working with

close up of your flushed face? he probably slaps you and moves onto your chest like what an asshole i need him dead

close up of your chest? tweaks one of your nipples harshly and laughs as you jolt up in pain, pushing you down again

he gently trails his fingers down your stomach, the camera's gaze following, and finally reaches the spot in between your thighs

close up of your cunt? he puts the camera down next to your core while propping your leg up with one hand

"fords" head was hovering over your cunt, he turned his head to the camera to flash it a harsh, sly smile before turning back and messily kissing your pussy

im ganna be honest he dont know what the fuck hes doing like hes licking it hes biting it hes drawing blood hes doing whatever the fuck he feels like doing

your screams and gargled moans are muffled by his six-fingered hand as he continued to lap up your insides like a feral dog

tongues ur entrance while his teeth graze ur clit i think he'd be into that

he defo scratches you up while doing this btw, every time the real ford sees your wounds he feels really bad

he wont let you come until you claim that hes the best youve ever had, hes really childish like that i think

i lied though even if you begged he wouldnt let you finish, not like that, its not good enough

he puts the camera back on its shelf and makes swift work of his pants and boxers, only pulling them down enough for his cock to spring out

he leaned over you, the room was dark, the only source of light came from the weak candles and the artificial blue flights of fiddleford's inventions

his eyes glowed yellow and his smile was so wide it looked like it hurt, you already knew it wasnt your ford in control today

it was scary, but you cant help but be excited

from how embarrassingly wet you were, im pretty sure bill could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was too

he kept eye-contact as he pushed himself inside, it was humiliating but thats what he liked

he would grab your cheeks and force you to look at him if you ever let your gaze wonder to anything that wasnt him

he was surprisingly slow, it was appreciated at first but then it was torturous

he giggled manically as he watched you grow desperate for him to speed up

bastard would probably turn to the camera like it was a fucking tv show and ask the audience (ford) if he should go faster, if you deserved to come on his cock, if you even deserved to come at all

eventually he would though, he wants to get off and he cant do that while going at a snails pace

the sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, bill kept his hand on your throat, not choking you, simply keeping it there as he messily thrust into you

you both end up finishing at the same time, which bill is a little annoyed by

he berates both you and ford(s body) for not lasting long

he keeps himself buried into you while reaching for his camcorder and a polaroid camera that hes been using to document what hes been doing in fords body

he takes a few pictures of you and your lower half, white fluid leaking from your hole and covering his cock

he sighed, satisfied, collecting the photos and reached for the memory gun

ford wakes up the next day and looks at all the recordings and photos bill took the night before

to say hes horrified would be an understatement

immediately checks up on you, only to find you passed out on the desk, fully clothed and cleaned up, like it never happened

when he wakes you up in a panic hes confused to hear that you dont remember anything that happened last night

he doesnt tell you about anything that he saw

youd be better off as blissfully unaware, he thought yeah im a degenerate whatever man gravity falls masterlist

[meliciousmel13]

: ̗̀➛ lotus eater

did you figure it out?? : ̗̀➛ who's the mystery now?

based on this song by FINNEAS, since the new album came out and i love it!!

warnings: fluff, smut, eating out (r receiving).

wc: 2,534 - kinda long but let me cook

SYNOPSIS: you hate her. don't you? it's just a coincidence isn't it?? madison was being nice for some reason.

taglist: @guysimgay164, @madisonbeerssecretwife @bandanamatt

an: :)) for the people who voted for madison smut in my poll since i think you guys are a little deprived. if your looking forward to the billie one it's in the makes! this was in my drafts since before the poll.

you and madison were enemy’s. everyone knew. nobody wanted to get involved and nobody wanted to touch you. why? because the last boy you had the fortune to talk to (who was nice), went missing. or, was avoiding you for a reason you didn’t know.

you knew nothing about her. all you knew was that she was a kind and sweet girl. you saw her interviews. you didn’t want to. but the fact that her music was kind of good and she was kind of pretty. led you to watching one of her interviews. you didn’t want to admit it but she was kind of funny.

you were at an award show now and you found your seat just to be greeted with the woman you wanted to avoid. you were wondering if they sat you in the same table because they didn’t know? maybe they forgot?

you sat down, vexed. she glanced at you and continued talking with someone you didn’t know. you wanted to ask to change seats but you knew that the people who were actually in charge of the seating chart wanted you guys to either fight, or pretend to like each other.

you wanted to do none. you didn’t want to pretend. you didn’t even want to talk to the brunette. knowing that if you did, her snarky attitude would somehow come across as nice to some 47 year old asshole sitting behind a screen.

you cross your arms and lay back on the soft seat, looking around the venue until she spoke, “what are you doing here?” she asked, condescendingly, turning to you while her friend went off.

“this is my seat.” you answer. you didn’t want to talk to her. you thought if you paid her no mind then she wouldn’t talk to you. but no. she always had too much to say. couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

“oh.. are you sure? did you double check?” she asked, again. you double checked. triple checked, quadruple checked. of course you did. why the hell would you wanna sit next to her?

“yes, i checked.” you scoffed.

“you don’t have to be so negative. this is good right?” you wanted to punch her.

no. it’s not good. “i guess.” you muttered, going back on yourself and actually talking to her.

the award show went great. besides the soft murmurs of an angry night. madison was commentating everything, saying the obvious and talking to you the whole night. you wanted to go home. get rid of her obnoxiously sweet voice in your ear and maybe eat a tub of ice cream.

but you didn’t get to enjoy the luxury which was your own bed because you had to go to the after party. your manager had everything ready. the short dress and—you were so tired. not physically. but because of the fact that someone was talking your ears off.

madison decided to stay in the same car as you. you didn’t even get to stare outside the window with some much needed alone time. she took your headphones off and wanted you to really listen to whatever she was saying.

you tilt your head back on the soft cushion of the chair and took deep breaths. the more she spoke the more your headache grew.

you open the door to the outside frantically, almost begging to feel the cold air on your skin. you did. but the flashing lights that invited you weren’t welcoming. home home home.

she took your hand and you wanted to pull away. the sight of cameras stopped you. but also because her hands were soft. if they belonged to another you would’ve been thrilled.

you walk through the large doors of the establishment and you finally pulled away as the security guards prevented photographers from entering and everyone else.

“why the fuck did you do that?” you asked angrily.

“what did i do?” she asked. and your frustration was through the roof. the squinting was making your headache worse and the bright lights too.

you groaned, loudly, she was so frustrating that if you spoke another word you might actually explode. she giggled. she fucking giggled. you were mad and she was laughing.

“are you seriously laughing?” you questioned, and she shook her head.

“s’ nothing,” she rolled her eyes,“we should head in now we might be late.” she said.

“who the hell is we?—” she took your wrist and dragged you inside.

you’ve never regretted your life choices more. this was way worse then the award show. here they had flashing bright colors and loud charlie xcx songs blasting through the speakers. madison pulled you to the drinks bar and you’ve grown tired of her dragging you around. but you continue to let her.

“uh, two cherry colas—” she said and you looked at her with a bewildered expression. a nonalcoholic drink. a nonalcoholic drink.

“no.” you interrupted.

“but—”

“no.” you crossed your arms, “i’ll have a Sex on the Beach. she can have a cherry coke.” you said to bartender and he nodded, getting ready to make your drinks.

“for the contrary, cherry colas are really good,” she said, and you nodded, rubbing your temples., “headache?” she asked. you nodded. “why would you drink alcohol then.” she rolled her eyes again and called the bartender. telling him to cancel your drink and opting to getting you water.

“here.” she breathed out, helping you sip out the glass cup until it was empty.

“why’re you being so nice to me?”

her expression changed. mouth slightly agape and it made you even more curious. the once cruel woman was suddenly helping you with your ever growing headache that she started. her eyes dart across the room to look at anything but you. avoiding your question.

she mumbled something you couldn’t hear, so you bring your face closer to hear her better but she groaned, “you always fucking do that—” she grabbed your wrist till her knuckles were white and led you to a janitors closet near the exit of the party.

“do what?—” you were cut off by her kissing you.

oh

oh, that’s what she meant. she tilted her head to kiss you better and you didn’t know what to do. you were confused. not knowing where to put your hands so you place them on her shoulders. her lips were soft. and she smelt like angles and fairy dust.

you wanted to let out a word, you wanted to push her away you wanted and wanted but you never did anything. you let her kiss down your neck and up your jaw you let her. she griped your hips tightly and traced the hem of your dress.

“madison—” you pull her head away from your neck by softly tugging her hair, and she groaned. as if being separated from you was equivalent to having her lollipop taken from her hands. was she crying? because you swore you saw tears in her eyes when you pulled her away.

her lip gloss was smudged on your neck and her mascara was ruined, some of it probably on your neck too, she was undoubtedly messy. “what?” she asked.

“talk to me.”

“are you stupid?” she said, and you flinched, “do you still not know why i pulled you in here? i mean— I’ve never seen someone as stupid as you.” you stayed silent, she pulled her hands away from your hips and you almost missed them. she sighed and paced around the small room.

“i like you.” then everything made sense. like the flood of questions in your mind were answered with three words. the reason no one approached you was because everyone knew she liked you? is that why you were sat next to each other? the reason the boy stopped talking to you was because she told him off?

“do you know how obvious i made it for you? like— i might as well be screaming i love you at this point—” she wanted you. she really really wanted you.

you initiated the kiss this time. you didn’t have to say it back she knew. you wanted her too.

the kiss quickly grew heated, the loud sighs and whimpers—mostly from you, because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, “madison.” you breathe out, knees going weak and without the support of her hands under your thighs you would’ve collapsed on the dirty floor.

“yeah?” her eyes darkened, the filthy noises—just saying her name that way was driving her insane.

“do something.” you said. the uncomfortable wetness in your underwear was growing the longer she looked at you that way, like she wanted to devour you whole.

she parted your legs and put her knee between them, removing her hands from your thighs and actually letting you sit on it. you quickly regained your composure and actually used your legs to stand.

“can i take this off?” she toyed with the hem of your dress. you didn’t know why she was asking.

“yes.” you answered, and she pulled the dress up above your hips—now crumpled on you waist. she looked at your underwear then your eyes, asking for conformation. you nod. and she pulled the black lacy underwear to the side.

you wore it for yourself, no one in peculiar but you don’t regret it because she griped the underwear so tightly you were scared it was going to rip. you tried helping her pull it down your legs but she refused. you looked too pretty. depending on her knee to stay up and mouth agape. so. fuckin’. pretty.

“ma—” you yelped when she removed her knee, quickly holding you up—she didn’t want her pretty girl to fall now. her pretty girl. you were hers.

she brushed her thumb on your clit and you bite your lip, one of her hands were on your hips holding you up and the other was dragging up and down on your heat, “you’re so wet.” she mumbled into your neck while sucking hickies onto it. your cheeks flush and your skin was sweaty because you were nervous but also because it was hot in here. you were wet. and she didn’t even do anything yet.

“tell me your mine.” she pulled away from your neck and rubbed harshly on your clit. you grip her shoulders tightly.

“m’ yours.” you whine when she legs go of her hand on your hips, you almost fall, but grab a hold of her leather jacket in time. desperately trying to wrap your legs around her waist but she doesn’t even help you, she just holds your chin and tilts it upwards.

“i can’t hear you.” her thumb on your clit slows down and you groan, the long acrylic nails were scratching on your jaw.

“i’m yours!” you half-scream, surprised no one barged in the room yet.

madison smiled, “that’s right baby.” she rasped out, and you had to hold back a moan at the name, “why’re you holding back?”

“because someone might come in.” you sigh and she bites her lower lip.

“you shouldn’t care about them, kay?” she sank to her knees, and you almost came, because she looked so good looking up at you, “can’ moan all you want baby.” oh god. she lifted your thigh on her shoulder and you arch your back.

she hummed while running her tongue up your pussy, her knees probably dying. she held your whole body up and you were curious how strong she actually was.

you moan, and she looked up at you, so focused on your taste she forgot to focus on you. “look at me.” she kissed and nipped at your thighs. you do, for a while but you gasp and cover your face once she brings your clit to her lips, “look at me, please.” she half begged.

you let out a small ‘mhph’ and pull your hand from your face, nothing was covering the pornographic look on your face now. you were panting, brows furrowed and a small drop of sweat rolling down your face. you tilted your head to see her better.

“fuck.�� she moaned. you run your hands through her hair, gripping once she sucked harshly on your clit—ruining the hair that probably took over 4 people to do, she let you. and you’ve never had that much power before. you could ruin her if you wanted. and she would let you. because she loved you.

she desperately wanted to plunge her fingers deep inside you but her annoyingly long nails restricted her from doing so. they were cute and all, but her knees were killing her. she ignored the pain though, she’d do anything for you.

madison couldn’t breathe. all she could feel, smell and taste was you. she didn’t care though, if she could die between your thighs then she’d die happy. her cheeks were squeezed between them and you’ve never seen something so beautiful.

she tapped your thigh lightly and you part your legs, not wanting to to cut off her breathing. you whimper and buck your hips to her mouth when she entered her tongue in you. she held your hips and you scratched at her scalp.

“m’ gonna cum.” you whimper, your entire upper body was a mess. hickies on the side of your neck and collar bones, some ever scattered above your breasts. even your lip stick was stained and out of place.

“yeah? gonna cum f’ me?” she asked, digging crescent moons into your thighs from how she was gripping it. she raspy voice sent vibrations up your pussy, and you pushed her face even closer, she didn’t stop you though, she enjoyed it.

madison pushed down your lower stomach and dug her tongue even deeper, “oh— fuck, madison.” you moan, feeling madison hum, and that pushed you over the edge. squirting all over her face. she licked up every drop. feeling over simulated, you push her away from her head, “can’t.” you breathe out.

“good?” she said, you nodded and madison stood up stumbling, “are your knees okay?” you asked, concerned.

“yeah i’m fine,” she fixed her hair, smoothing it back and fixing her clothes, “come here.” she took your hips and pulled you closer, helping put your panties back in place and your dress down your thighs.

“thank you.” you mumble, while she wiped the smudged lipstick across your mouth and the lip gloss from your neck, “madison.” you laugh, seeing her lower face completely covered in arousal.

“what?” she asked innocently, like she didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life.

“your face.”

“what about it?” she licked her lips. messy eater.

after you both cleaned up, you came out of the janitors closet, getting weird looks from most people but you drag her outside and tell your driver to take you home. this time, with her.

“so,” she dug her hands into her jacket pockets, “what are we now?” she asked, hopeful.

you hum, pretending to think about it, madison groans, and you laugh, “i’m kidding! your my girlfriend right?” you ask, hopeful.

“yeah, your my girlfriend.”

[shawtuzi]

i’m still deciding whether i want to write for ellie or abby in my next tlou fic but until then pls enjoy these construction worker!eren hc’s bc i am sooo thirsty for him

cw include: black fem!reader, lots of fluff, lots of smut, eren being the cutest thing ever

sfw

construction worker!eren whose only dream in this life is to have a pretty wife with a litter of kids and a big ass house to go with it. he’s already slipped a gorgeous fat rock on your finger and talks of getting pregnant with your first child were slowly but surely happening which meant he was getting closer and closer to what he truly wanted most.

construction worker!eren who is a total mommas boy!! his mom is so very dear to him and to know she adores you just as much as him makes him so so happy.

construction worker!eren who looks so cute in his everyday work outfit. whenever he’s got his hard hat on around you you can’t help but knock on it a few times but it’s okay he thinks it’s super cute.

construction worker!eren who starts his day a six-thirty every morning and is always home by five o’clock on the dot. his morning routine consists of giving your forehead and lips a sweet good morning kiss as soon as his eyes open, a quick fifteen minute shower with music softly playing in the back (usually the trapsoul album by bryson tiller), making a big ass pot of coffee bc lord knows he’ll need it with the airheads he works with, quadruple checking to make sure there’s food in the fridge and pantry for you, another sweet kiss to your lips before he heads out, and then spending five minutes trying to pry you off of him while you beg him to take the day off. “m’sorry sugarplum i cant take off today, gotta save up for that big house we want you know how it is,” he’d always say before shushing your whines with a kiss full of tongue n passion.

construction worker!eren who is so tired and sore when he gets off work but is never too sore to accept one of your bone crushing hugs as soon as he walks through the door to your shared apartment. he’s always extra careful to make sure his hands that are usually covered in residue don’t touch your clothes even though you could literally care less.

construction worker!eren who facetimes you everyday around the same time to enjoy your company while he’s on his lunch break. usually the conversations consists of you telling him to make sure he’s applying a lot of sunscreen (bc this heat was nothing to play about), your plans for what you were making for dinner, and if anyone happened to piss him off that day you’ll surely hear about it.

“how’s your lunch?” you asked giving eren a loving smile as you watched him practically devour the leftover lasagna from last nights dinner. he wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking, a content smile on his lips. “food is perfect honey tastes just as good as it did last night,” you smiled at his words but it faltered just the slightest bit when you saw how reddish pink his cheeks were. “baby have you put on any sunscreen yet? weather app says it’s supposed to be almost a hundred out today,” you pouted wishing so desperately that he was there so you could give his little sunburns kisses. eren observed his face in the tiny box on the corner of his phone, letting out a small hum. “don’t worry about me sugar i’ll put some on before we get off the phone,” he gave you a comforting smile which you returned. you folded your freshly manicured hands together before speaking, “so…for dinner i was thinking steak kabobs?” “now we’re fuckin’ talking”

construction worker!eren whose nicknames for you are sugar, sugarplum, honey, angel, and my honeysuckle (which is a type of flower heje)

construction worker!eren whose stomach is almost as big as his heart lol this man loves him a good home cooked meal!!! he doesn’t know what he did to deserve a wife who feeds him as good as you do but you best believe he thanks his lucky stars everyday for it. and yes he’s fs the kind of man to completely devour his food in record time meanwhile you’ve barely made a dent in yours, this usually leads to you splitting the rest of yours with him bc this man always has room to eat more food.

you had decided to make steaks for dinner and like usual eren had devoured his plate in less than ten minutes. “was it good my love?” you giggled taking a bite of the roasted potatoes you made as side. bc he had a full mouth all eren was able to get out was a satisfied sounding ‘mhm!’ eren had washed his dishes and put them away before making his way back to the table to keep you company while you continued to eat your food, love and adoration swarming in those jade irises of his. without a word you swiftly got out of your chair and got comfy on his lap. eren didn’t say a word but by the way he was looking at your plate you could tell he was dying for another bite. you cut off a piece of steak and held the fork up to his lips with a smile, “go ahead take a bite i know you wanna.” without a second thought eren took a bite and for the rest of dinner you took turns feeding him and yourself.

construction worker!eren who becomes even more attentive and loving than he already is once you’re finally pregnant!!! you have morning sickness?? he’s right behind you rubbing your back and even offers to brush your teeth for you after you’ve finished. you need your feet rubbed?? prop them up and he’ll get straight to work. he even takes more days off work than usual bc he misses your touch just as much as you miss his. ever since he found out there was a little him growing in you he frequently started talking to your belly.

construction worker!eren is a girl dad no ifs, ands, or buts!!!!! crazy story but he had the strongest feeling you were having a girl and low and behold on the day of your gender reveal you found out you were having a girl!! yes he cried like a baby himself and yes connie has it on video.

construction worker!eren who treats your daughter like she’s the finest china when she’s finally born :( the first time he did skin to skin contact with her he swore his heart was gonna explode with how much love his had for the tiny human in his arms. and once she was sound asleep in her lil bed he was quick to leave the hospital to buy you whatever foods you were craving—you deserved the best princess treatment for bringing his lil princess into the world.

construction worker!eren who keeps a polaroid pic of you, him, and your newborn daughter in his worn out wallet, showing it to everyone at his job…and a couple strangers….he rlly can’t help it you two are his pride and joy <333

“hey reiner did i ever show you this picture?” eren beamed holding up the polaroid in reiner’s face for the third time that day. reiner chuckled a bit before nodding, “yes eren you showed me, she’s a cute one you and y/n are lucky,” he smiled and eren nodded in agreement, still staring down at the picture. “yeah…m’the luckiest guy in the world aren’t i?”

nsfw

construction worker!eren who is six foot six and pure muscle. it’s a wonder how he eats so good and manages to look even better but hey! you weren’t complaining. he certainly was lacking down there either baby he’s the full package. his dicks eight and a half inches with two prominent veins on the underside that rubbed against your sensitive walls in the most delicious way possible.

construction worker!eren who has a raging breeding kink but is that really a surprise? whenever you two fuck and he’s able to rlly take his time with you i kid you not he has to cum inside you at least three times or he will not be satisfied. sometimes whenever he pulls out he’ll push down on your lower belly and watch his cum spill out with dark, predatory eyes. majority of the time he’ll use that as an excuse to fill you up for the umpteenth time bc he just cannot let any of his precious cum go to waste.

“so pretty,” eren had a lazy smile on his face as he watched three orgasms worth of cum ooze out of your puffy, spent pussy. just when you thought he had his fill and was ready for a much needed good nights rest you felt his one softening dick begin to harden up against your still trembling thighs. “eren…” you whimpered, but he just shushed you with a kiss mumbling a quick ‘jus one more’ before slipping back inside you with ease. he was extremely low on energy so he wasn’t quite able to fuck into you like a madman like he was before so he just settled for grinding into you. “o-oh honey! f-fuck!” you squealed wrapping your legs around his waist. between his swollen tip continuously bumping into your stomach, and the coarse hairs on his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit you were slowly but surely going dumb. “yeah jus’ like that, f-fuck yeah let daddy fuck a baby into you baby c’mon make me cum.”

construction worker!eren who is nawt a fan of quickies at all!! he’s a man that likes to savor the moment when it comes to sex and if he’s able to admire the faces and sounds you make then what’s the point?? when he’s got you all to himself expect to be occupied for the next couple of hours bc like i stated before he’s not satisfied until he’s cum in you at least three times and made you cum twice as much!!

construction worker!eren who is a certified MUNCH!!!! this man loves having his mouth on your pussy and yes if ur wondering he definitely eats it through your panties. he’s so sloppy and loud with it you’d almost be embarrassed if he didn’t completely turn you dumb whenever he tongue fucked your weeping pussy :(

“mm renny,” your brows scrunched together in pleasure as eren sloppily ran his tongue up and down your soaked folds. his hair was still damp from his shower and was slowly soaking the couch from the droplets falling from his locs but neither of you seemed to care. “couldn’t stop thinking about you today…i mean i already think of you all day but i kept thinking about you in that way and fuck it was so hard to focus. reiner almost ripped my head off from how distracted i was,” as he was talking he was pressing sloppy, wet kisses all over your cunt and the inside of your thighs. he inserted two fingers easily into your dripping center and couldn’t help the groan that rumbled in his chest when he saw how tight you were squeezing his fingers. “you got the prettiest pussy honey, you know that right?” he gave you a small smile before spitting directly on your clit making you jolt. you whined in embarrassment ofc and covered your face with a near throw pillow, whimpering out a pathetic ‘stop ren s’embarrasing.’ eren just hummed and attached his mouth back to your pussy, wrapping his slightly swollen lips around your throbbing clit, “m’never gonna fuckin stop my pretty little honeysuckle never ever.”

construction worker!eren who is a biggg fan of the 69 position. sometimes you suck him so good he tends to lose focus but you don’t mind in the slightest. your big strong man never stops working whether he’s on or off the clock so if he gets a little consumed in his own pleasure who are you to snap him out of it?? if you’re putting some serious work in he’ll moan n groan so loud into your pussy you could cum alone just from that!!

construction worker!eren who had the prettiest moans *sighs dreamily* he’s never shy to let you know you’re making him feel good and it’s so fucking hot hearing his breathy whines and moans especially when he accidentally overstimulates himself which he happens to do a lot heh. you’ve definitely had a couple complaints from neighbors bc of the noise but he don’t even give a fuck!! he knows it turns you on more than anything to hear him be so vocal so why on earth would he ever stop??

construction worker!eren who was soo nervous when you suggested having sex while you were pregnant. it was no problem for him at first but once you started showing that’s when the panic started to settle in—he was so afraid he’d accidentally hurt you or the baby that he kinda went on an sex hiatus much to your dismay, but after some convincing be finally gave in.

you were on your side and he was spooning you from behind, giving your shoulder or neck a kiss of encouragement every once in a while. “jus’ let me know if it hurts at all or you’re uncomfortable okay? cant believe you talked me into this…” eren mumbled into your shoulder. you replied with a soft ‘mhm’ your patience wearing thinner by the second. it had been a good couple of weeks since you and eren last had sex and you were almost sure you were beginning to lose your mind. you’d finally had enough when he came home from his morning jog looking like an absolute dream with his chest heaving and brown baby hairs sticking to his forehead. that’s how he ended up here: one hand securely holding onto your small bump while his other was slowly pushing his dick inside your awaiting entrance. “oh wow…” your eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss, toes curling once he bottomed out. “f-fuck that feel okay hun?” it felt more than okay. you brought your hand to your clit and began rubbing quick circles to dull out the stinging stretch. eren peeped this and replaced yours with his own, the rough pads of his fingers on your clit had your lips trembling. “y-you need to stop this—hah! sex strike and fuck me more please i—i miss this,” eren heard your plea and nodded feverishly. god was he a fool for ever depriving yourselves of each other, he will never be doing this again.

[phantom-0-writer]

original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program

scene 1

table of contents

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

scene 2: tim’s arch nemesis 

“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Alfred wished, as they all got out of the car. 

“Later, Alfred.” Duke waved as the car left the drop off zone.

The three of them walked together until Tim remembered the conversation from Bruce’s study. He peered over his shoulder at Damian who was trying to act nonchalant as he ditched the principal's office. Tim turned and stopped right in front of Damian ``Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” Sneaky little plans for a sneaky little kid, huh.

“Tsk.” He rolled his eyes at being caught 

Tim smirked at him, the words hillbilly civilians echoing in his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” 

“I was just on my way.” Damian said, trying to seem unbothered as he walked away. 

“Y’know one of these days he’s gonna snap and finally murder you.” Duke mused next to him, before they split into their separate hallways. 

“Better people than him have tried.” They shared a small laugh. Finding his usual seat in homeroom, Tim scrolled through his phone until class started. 

At the bell Ms. Kross stepped to the teacher’s podium to start the daily announcements. “Hello class, happy Wednesday.” She smiled at them, “You’re all chipper as usual,” she commented humorously to herself at the silent audience. “Well today is the day I’m sure all of you have been waiting anxiously for. Before I announce everyone’s placements after the midterms, I just want to remind you all that grades only matter so much in the grand scheme of things, and if you did not score as well as you would’ve liked, there's still time to do better.” Ms. Kross gave them the yearly pep talk, as the system booted. 

Tim had been attending Gotham Academy since the first grade, and he was familiar with the ins and outs of the system now, as opposed to the many students that often filtered in and out of the Academy. Gotham Academy is one of the best schools on this side of the coast and many affluent families would send their kids here. So naturally the Academy was incredibly competitive and so much as one point could move you from 5th place to 50th. 

The competitive atmosphere of Gotham Academy had never been too hard of a burden on Tim’s shoulder. Since grade 3 Tim has easily been placed first in his grade without so much as a sweat, no matter the amount of Robin, or Red Robin responsibilities on his shoulders. Knowing this year would be no different, Tim let his chair lean back leisurely as his other classmates sat forward in anticipation. 

“With no further ado, this year’s first place as for now is Daniel Fenton.” Yup, just like every other- Wait. 

“What?” Tim asked, the front two legs of his chair hitting the floor hard. Tim looked at the screen in disbelief, only to have his suspicions confirmed. 

“Mr. Drake, is there a problem?” Mr. Kross asked, surprised. 

“Are you sure this is right?” Tim asked incredulously pointing an accusing finger at the screen, there's no way that he- Timothy Drake - placed second?

“Yes, Mr. Drake, I assure you this sheet has been double, triple, even quadruple checked. There are no errors.” Ms. Kross smiled exasperatedly. 

Ms. Kross continued down the list of names in the class, announcing their places but Tim wasn’t paying attention. Tim glared at the spreadsheet at the front of the class, waiting for it to correct itself. But no changes were made. The name placed at the top of the list had been burned into Tim’s skull. 

Who the fuck is Daniel James Fenton? 

----

Bonus:

Bruce waited his turn in the pick up line, ready to see his kids' surprise when they found out that he came to pick them up instead of Alfred. When it was finally his turn to pull up to the curb he smiled happily as Tim, Damian and Duke entered the car. 

“Surprise.” Bruce smiled at them.

“Oh, Bruce. Alfred didn’t come today?” Duke asked with a smile. 

“Nope!” He said driving into the street. “Since it’s just us today, how about we go grab ice cream?” Bruce offered, looking at his passengers in the rearview mirror. 

“Ooh ice cream after school!” Duke cheered. 

“I could appreciate some ice cream.” Damian nodded from his seat. 

“Oh how did meeting Daniel go today, Damian?” Bruce remembered. 

“It was fine. Daniel is not entirely despicable.” Bruce blinked in surprise, Damian seemed to have taken a great liking to the kid if he was already calling him by his first name, especially on day one. “Not entirely despicable” and “it was fine” in Damian-speak usually meant that he had had a phenomenal time. 

“That’s great, buddy.” Bruce turned to tell him when he stopped at a red light. “Duke, how was your Chemistry Test?” 

“It went okay, I think. We’ll just have to wait till the results come out, I guess.” Duke shrugged. 

Bruce nodded at the information. He was doing a good job. Engage, Assess, Appreciate. That’s what Dick had said. 

Tim. There was something today, he had mentioned it offhandedly. What was it? Right! The placement release. 

“Tim, how did your-”

“Shut up.” Tim seethed from the back seat. Bruce saw the irritation radiating off of him and decided that today, nor any day, would he be ready to deal with that.

“Ok.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hellooo may I ask if you plan to continue the kny cats series?

KNY Kitties | 4

Sooner than the quadruple had liked your friend had returned and was eager to take her cats home

And while the sad mews from the kittens broke your heart it was nice to see the Magenta and Waterbug reclaim their role as guardians

Once again alternating between following you around the house and watching the kittens

While you’d like to say all was back to normal it was not

The blonde Turkish angora with rainbow eyes seemed to be finding himself at your place more often 

With a new friend named Snowflake 

Turns out your friend who owned him did return from her trip 

But she had fallen in love with the idea of traveling and had convinced her boyfriend to do the same

Which meant you were left to take care of both of their cats for the foreseeable future

As disappointing as that was having the new short hair around helped balance everyone out

Keeping the mischievous Angora busy 

Otherwise, life was good 

You were hanging out even longer with your new landlord

And cracking down on the only cat that seems to be escaping from your home:

“Okay, my babies! I’ll see you all in a bit I just have to make a quick run! Behave please!”

The sound of your voice suddenly disappearing behind the door caught everybody off guard. As far as they were concerned you were just getting a snack in the kitchen, you’d said so after getting up from cuddling with Magenta. The kittens who had previously tried to fall asleep beside Giyuu immediately snapped awake to go to the door to mew sadly. As though their crying would bring you back they held their little protest for a few minutes, deciding to sit by the door to wait. Giyuu figured he’d check on them before speaking to Muzan who was taking this opportunity to rub himself all over your clothes. 

“Oi Muzan. Aren’t you stretching yourself too thin?//”

Without looking up the former demon king only intensified his scent smothering. 

“How so?//”

“All week you’ve been jumping between being a cat and the ‘landlord’s son.’ Is there no stress on your body to be switching so often?//”

“No, I’m as infallible as I was in the past.//”

Giyuu hides the distasteful flicking of his tail at the prideful assumption. He didn’t really care if Muzan was caught, he was only worried about the rest of them transforming. If that time were to come.

“Ne ne Akaza-chan! Who do you think will be transforming next?”

The striped short hair groaned trying to slink away from Doma as they entered the bedroom. Giyuu’s ears twitched as he made his move to stay on the bed. Better to stay out of their way but still watch the Uppermoons.

“For all you know, it could be me!”

“Please we’d all be in trouble if it’s you.”

“Why wouldn’t you like it if we all go and live with our Master?”

Muzan perked up from the folded clothes to do his best to glare at his subordinates continuing to make biscuits on them. 

“I wouldn’t let you live with me.”

“What?! Master why?!”

“(Y/n) would get the wrong idea about me and I will not have you disrupting my relationship with them.”

“How mean! Would you say the same with Akaza?”

“....No.”

“Whhyyyy?!”

Giyuu refused to say anymore jumping off the bed to the front door. He planned to check on the quiet kittens rather than listen to the useless drivel that was this conversation. He hoped none of it would be considered true. But if this was going off of physical prowess from their past lives that would be a likely scenario rather than Tanjiro. Giyuu was disappointed to see that Tanjiro hadn’t had the same changes he noticed Muzan was having before he first transformed. 

When he finally entered the kitchen and doorway of the house he found the kittens precariously stacked on each other while standing on the counter, attempting to grab some treats. Recently you’ve been trying to teach the kittens some commands and tricks. Unfortunately for you, the kittens were smart enough to wish they could have those treats all the time. 

“Tanjiro, Nezuko, Rui! What are you all doing?//”

A series of ‘uh oh’ and hushed whispers told him all he needed to know. Easily he hopped up on the counter to safely break up the little stack they had going on. They proceeded to whine and complain as he sent a scathing look to all of them–specifically at Tanjiro.

“Tanjiro what is this? I would’ve expected more from you.”

“It’s just that they were both hungry and they were crying–”

“That’s no reason to do this. If you’re so hungry you’ll wait until (Y/n) gets home.”

“But–”

“No, buts. Off the counter.”

But of course, as the kittens begin to slink away preparing for the drop-down, Muzan intervenes. 

“What seems to be the problem.”

Giyuu prepares to speak only to be beaten by Rui. Who proudly tattles as though Giyuu was in the wrong. 

“The old man says we can’t eat even though we’re hungry!”

“--Hey!”

Muzan probably already aware of the true situation coyly sits at the bottom of the counter. 

“Well, that’s not right then.” 

With a smooth snapping of bones, the human form of Muzan stood tall and more than able to reach for the treats. The kittens cheered letting out happy mews as he opened the bag and began leaving some food out. Giyuu groaned in the only way a cat can. 

It is then his dark blues spot the small device above the refrigerator.

“Mu��!//”

Before he could get it out the door swung open. It is then that Muzan turns completely naked to look horrified at the main doorway where you had your phone’s light flashing with a picture and your jaw hanging open. 

“OH MY G–”

[6okuto]

UNIVERSITY WITH AKAASHI

gn!reader | no more posts set in high school!! time for everyone to grow up! /j

university student akaashi who you meet in an english/writing course. he stands in front of your spot and nervously fiddles with the sleeves of his jacket, hoping you notice him and look up. "um," he hesitates. "is anyone sitting next to you?"

maybe it's because he's just so pretty, but you think it's cute how he visibly relaxes when you shake your head and move to let him sit beside you.

university student akaashi who quickly becomes your go-to classmate after being paired for icebreakers and luckily exchanging contact info during your first class. you think it's too early to call him your friend, but he softly laughs at your explanation during two truths and one lie, and you hope that title will come easier by the end of the semester.

akaashi who, after a week, finally gains the courage to ask if you're busy after class today. a sequel he's been anticipating is supposed to be in stock now, and if you'd like to join him on a bookstore trip, he'd like the company. you, of course, agree, and he smiles and softly says, "thanks."

you ask him to explain the plot on your trip there and he's embarrassed, stumbling over his words and having to backtrack to explain lore, but happy nonetheless. he's going in-depth about his favourite character's development by the time you reach the store, and you don't think you'd ever have it in you to stop him from talking.

you wonder if it would be weirder if you looked for a copy of the first book yourself.

akaashi who always seems to have some sort of caffeinated drink when he walks into the afternoon class. he says he's tired by lunch time and it'll keep him awake. you nod. "what's life but treating yourself every once in a while?"

he snickers, even if he's making fun of himself when he asks, "you mean every day?"

"obviously. uni's hard, we deserve it," you tease with a nudge to his shoulder.

the next class, he's bought you a snack you mentioned enjoying. he fiddles with his straw, stirring the ice inside his cup while your face heats up. he repeats your words from a couple days before, "you deserve it."

akaashi who knows you despise the idea of peer reviews and having to read feedback. it's why you let out a breath of relief when the professor tells you you can choose your partner, and by the time you turn, keiji's already looking at you.

you quadruple check everything before sending the document, and take 30 minutes alongside coaxing texts from keiji himself before you manage to open the edited version the day after.

it takes you a second to realize, but your breath hitches when you do. he's taken the time to make a copy of his feedback with little compliments and doodles of him, like one doing a thumbs up next to a "great point :)", another clapping beside your conclusion saying "you did it :-) !", and one sitting on top of a paragraph just to make you smile.

when you thank him the next day, your face is warm, and his face is red. your eyes flicker over to him playing with the hair by his ear while he promises he'd do it again any time you needed.

akaashi who you've come to find out isn't just the quiet, pretty, smart guy in class. he's also the guy you often find yourself on call with at 11pm, hair messy and glasses drooping on his nose. he apologizes for his state and the fact that he's wearing a shirt with a sort of shitty collage of low quality cat images, and you’re barely holding in your laugh while you shake your head and reassure him it's fine.

you have to tell him to at least add something to the noodles he keeps eating during exam week, and threaten to block him when he teases you for the incoherent questions you stutter out at 1am. in return he checks on you when he sees you listening to your sad playlist, and lets you see the other shirts he's gotten over the past couple of years.

you beg him to tell you where he found the one of an english setter with "dog setter" written on it, and he asks why you want to copy him.

"i just...love your style so much, keiji. it's so bold and creative—camp, even."

and keiji laughs, really laughs, trying and failing to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. even with his smile covered, you watch his eyes crinkle and can't help but secretly raise your headphones' volume, just a little.

"yeah, okay, thanks." he laughs a little one more time. "if you do well on your exam, i'll bring it the next time we meet up so you can try it," he offers with an amused smile.

"really? you'd let me have the honour?"

keiji rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair, tilting his head while looking at you. he runs his fingers through his hair and it's really more attractive than it should be.

"yeah, of course," he promises.

it's a silly shirt, and a silly idea, but your heart rate quickens just a little at the thought of him sharing his clothes.

and keiji is glad you can't see his other hand fiddling with the bottom hem of his shirt, because secretly, he feels the same way, too.

sorry for the Blatant projection when i said u don't like reading feedback. that's actually just me. it's bad. whatever. this was actually fun OMG i love akaashi and hate uni fr . we as a community must talk abt charas in uni more. Please. for my happiness.

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired

[fuck-customers]

Fucking hate that I just had to deal with this one guy that apparently thinks “I pressed the wrong button accidentally” is the most alien concept in the world.

For context, he handed me $110 and I accidentally hit enter too early so it put in $1.10. So, in his full fucking view I pull out my calculator to do the math so he can get his correct change.

And then he makes a big stink about it where you can CLEARLY SEE on the receipt I put in two cash inputs. And it’s not the first time he’s done this to me! Last time he interrupted me so fucking much as I had to explain the very simple concept of “I pressed the wrong button”

Next time I’m absolutely gonna waste his time by double triple quadruple checking before I proceed with the transaction

Posted by admin Rodney

[miguelhugger2099]

Godly Outing

Summary: You invite Miguel for a picnic. (Gods AU) Previously I went extremely overboard for some reason. Miguel x Fem!Reader, Fluffyyyyy, Not proofread unfortunately, Word count: 2,378

Miguel was nervously waiting by the oak tree where you both had decided to meet up at. As gods, it was nearly impossible to have small moments for one another so Miguel was always starstruck and fidgety when it came to seeing you again. He glanced over at the horizon where the sky had begun to change from blue to a soft pink and purple hue in the clouds. The sun used its orange and yellow glow to highlight the curve of Mother Earth.

In his right hand, he had brought a small basket filled with various fruits and wine he had bought with his human money. He made sure to wear gloves this time so as to not soil the goods and make it rot in his hands. Again.

In his left hand, his arm held a blanket for you two to lay on the grass with. Miguel would rather succumb to the eternal flames of the inferno than ever stain one of your pretty dresses. The sun had begun to set and he took that as his sign to place the blanket down and sit on it while he waited.

Miguel fiddled with the handles of the basket, occasionally opening it to double, triple, and quadruple check if he had everything. Gods didn't need to eat but it didn't mean they couldn't. In fact, it was you who had suggested this occasion. His hands shook when he recalled your sweet smile asking to see him again for a ‘picnic’, you told him the humans called it.

It was rather comical the sight you found once you arrived, a basket of your own in your hand. Miguel was staring into the distance, his large body taking up nearly half of the blanket. His head snapped towards you when he heard footsteps, his shoulders tensing. How cute. He relaxed when he realized it was you and stood up to walk towards you.

“My lady…” He whispered, taking your free hand and lifting it up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. You felt your face heat up and Miguel noticed the darkening of your cheeks but refrained from commenting about it. He simply enjoyed the view of your shy smile.

“My lord,” You greet him, curtsying with a small bow of your head. “Sincerest apologies if I had kept you waiting.”

Miguel shook his head, standing straight again but never letting go of you. “No need. I arrived early.” His thumb gently caressed the back of your hand. “May I?” He took his other hand out, asking for the basket in your hand.

You looked at it and politely rejected it. “It's alright. I'm very much capable.” You joked softly, your grin widening when Miguel went wide eyed.

“I-I did not mean to offend you, my lady–” You laughed and waved him off.

“Nonsense, I know what you meant. However, if it brings you joy then you may.” You offer the basket to him with a teasing grin.

Miguel huffed a small laugh, a rare sight where his fangs poked out from underneath his lips. The kind of smile where the corner of his eyes crinkled faintly, and a smile line appeared. “You frighten me, my lady.” He took the basket and led you to the square patch of fabric on the ground. He only let go of your hand once you sat first and you were comfortable, placing you basket next to his and sitting beside you with a respectable distance.

“Do I? I frighten the powerful God of Death?” You tease. Miguel smiles at you.

“I'm not as powerful compared to you, darling.”

“Are you flattering me, my lord?”

“Is it working?”

“Try harder.”

“Of course.” Miguel tries to hide his smile from the playful bantering, his hands making quick work to open the baskets and take out the contents. “You seem to interact with the humans more often lately.” He comments, pointing to your dress. It was vastly different from his attire, a simple black robe that enveloped his large and muscular body. The only thing new about him was the gloves you had brought him. They barely fit, a little tight, but he was grateful nonetheless. You, however, had the style of a modern farmer girl. A simple solid dark red dress that ended just over your ankles to expose your brown boots, along with a square neckline. A dirtied white apron around your waist with an equally dirtied white puffy undershirt to give some modesty to your chest. The only original thing of yours that stayed was the crown of branches on your head, this time accompanied by blooms of daisies.

You take the time to help him, grabbing some grapes and bread. You reach in your basket for some wooden utensils, rolling up your sleeves. “I’ve grown very fond of them,” You reply. “They’ve started to create things of their own. It’s exciting.” Your eyes light up with pride and Miguel can see. He hesitates for a moment, brushing aside the jealousy that sparked in his chest for your attention.

“Tell me about it.” He says gently anyway, placing a few cut up orange and apple slices on a wooden plate you provided. You stood up a little straighter, subconsciously leaning towards him.

“They have this thing called music.” You smiled broadly.

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow. “Music?” He repeats, handing you your plate. You take it graciously.

“I’m not sure what these so-called instruments they have are called yet, but oh,” You swooned. “It’s beautiful, Miguel. They have so much fun and they dance!” You began rambling on about things Miguel couldn’t understand, your hands waving in the air if they weren't popping fruits in your mouth. His line of work was vastly different from yours but he didn’t dare dim your light.

“What is…dance?” He hesitates softly, interrupting your stories with a meek voice. You paused, your hands in mid-air, stopping their motion. You blinked at him and brought your hands back down, placing a finger on your chin while you thought to yourself.

“Dancing… Well, dancing is…” You were stuck on how to explain it. You saw the way mortals danced, whether in groups or with two people. They could be fun, they could be mellow, they could be comedic and they could be romantic. You began to blush, looking down and fiddling with the stem of the grapes you had eaten prior. “Dancing is…when two people…move together.” You explained awkwardly, snapping the stem into a smaller piece.

“Move together? Forgive me, I don’t understand.” Miguel places his plate down on the side. He couldn’t tell if the color in your face had changed or if it was the sunset.

“It–It goes with music and people are close to one another. Whether as friends or as, um, lovers.” You begin cleaning up the plates and other fruits you hadn’t finished.

“Lovers?” He took a step back. “Is it used for procreation?” He tilted his head.

You felt the heat burn your cheeks. “Absolutely not!” You squeaked. “It’s for fun! To enjoy the time with the other person and–and…”

Miguel didn’t understand why you seemed so embarrassed about these things. You were seemingly more and more human. More and more distant and… different from him. He looked at his lap and tried to imagine what this ‘dancing’ looked like.

Before he could speak, there was a faint trail of smoke in the now night sky, a little farther from where you two sat. Miguel tilted his head up and narrowed his eyes, assuming the worst. He stood up, about to tell you to stay behind before you jumped to your feet after hearing a soft holler. It made Miguel tense up but you had lost that blush on your face and it was replaced with a bright smile.

You turned to him. “Come! This is perfect timing!” You lifted the front of your dress and ran off without another word, Miguel’s hand reaching out and barely missing you. He chased after you, following your hair bouncing with each step and the red dress being swished from side to side. The closer he got, Miguel began to see fire letting off that trail of smoke in the sky. Abruptly, you stopped right outside of a small village. Miguel stood behind you protectively, his eyes glancing around for any danger or sudden work to be done. Instead, all he saw was a flock of people all huddled around the fire. Some were twirling each other around, others were sitting and talking and some were coming out of their homes with plates of food. They all had smiles.

“Come, I know them. Friends of mine.” You turned up to look at his apprehensive face. He wasn’t sure. He felt out of place and too different. Miguel wasn’t as radiant and sociable like you. He’d stick out like a sore thumb. You saw the whirlwind of thoughts consuming his mind through his clouded eyes. Once you took his hand, he cleared up and looked down at you.

“It’s alright. I’ll be here.” You whispered softly. You were worried you overstepped, maybe Miguel wouldn’t consider you comfort. But, his shoulders relaxed and he squeezed your hand. With a gentle smile, you led him out the shadows by the hand and greeted your friends. You spoke in a language he didn’t understand and froze when unfamiliar eyes landed on his much bigger frame. He hunched on himself to appear smaller and non-threatening. The people simply smiled politely and spoke in their foreign language.

You’d soon know these as the banging of drums, the whistles of flutes and strums of a guitar, all accompanied by the sweet sounds of singing. Miguel watched with a soft gaze, taking in the humans you seemed to love so much. He saw how happy they all seemed and his chest swell with pride knowing that it was because of you they could feel such happiness. The joy of being alive.

Miguel saw a few couples in front of the fire, skipping and twirling each other around with giant smiles. He looked down at you, your own gaze focused in front, taking in the beauty of it all. He wanted to make you smile like that. He then glanced further down at your intertwined hands and squeezed tighter to gain your attention. You looked down at your hands and then up at him with a concerned look. “Are you alright?” You asked with worry.

He took a sharp inhale to prepare himself for the question he was about to pop. “May we…” He licked his chapped lips. “If I may be so bold as to ask you for a dance?” Miguel stared deeply into your eyes, hoping you wouldn’t see the fear of rejection in them.

Your mouth opened slightly in shock but you quickly recovered with a bashful smile. “I would love to.” Miguel felt that particular weight lift off his shoulders and led you to the middle of the dance circle with unsure steps. He had been watching the humans dance for a bit but this was all still so new.

Miguel felt you lift his chin up, your touch electric. You gave him a knowing look, helping him lift his other hand to your waist. His breath hitched, feeling a turmoil of emotions touching you so close like this. His hand tensed before resting on you while you brought your intertwined hands up around shoulder length. You then placed your now free hand on his shoulder; a common start. “Just follow me.” You whispered. Always, he wanted to say back.

Slowly, you two took small steps towards and away from each other, gradually getting Miguel used to small spins. His eyes were downcast, making sure he wasn’t stepping on you. The villagers watched from the sides, amused at this burly man being as shaky as a deer. While he wasn’t looking you took the time to admire him. His bushy eyebrows furrowed in concentration with his fang biting down on his bottom lip. He subconsciously held you farther away to keep his eyes on his feet. You pressed yourself closer against him, chest to chest, which made Miguel snap his head up and widen his red eyes at you.

“Eyes on me.” You smiled and Miguel gulped. Your warmth was radiating off onto him and he melted. You saw him nod and purse his lips, focusing all his attention on you. He eventually became more relaxed, his hand on your waist tightening. The lead traded from you to him with Miguel twirling you and spinning your bodies around the dance circle with the others, finally in sync.

Miguel gained more confidence, letting go of your hand so he could place both of his hands on your hips. Your arms went around his neck and he gently lifted you up in the air. He saw your hair flutter from the force of it and your smile widened as much as those happy couples he saw earlier. He did it. He made you smile like that. Everytime he thought you couldn’t get more beautiful, you always proved him wrong.

He brought you back down and made sure you were chest to chest again, becoming more and more addicted to the warmth you gave him. He leaned his forehead on yours, slowing down to just feel you. You mirrored his action fondly, breaths mingling after the small exercise.

“My lady, I…” He spoke gingerly.

“Yes?” Your heart beat louder and you wondered if he could hear it.

“I think…” He trailed off, staring deep into your eyes. “I-I think I…”

You waited patiently with a bated breath.

“I think I understand… why you love humans so much.” He said finally. You blinked twice, strangely feeling a twist of disappointment in your heart. You shrugged it off and smiled.

“They’re wonderful, aren’t they?” Miguel didn’t answer.

For the rest of the night, Miguel enjoyed the feeling of your in his arms and enjoyed the feeling of life even through his cold grasp. For tonight, the Goddess of Life and God of Death pretended to be humans and danced under the stars with the music echoing in the air.

A/N: theyre so cute their smut is about to go so hard

[aller-geez]

Flight 676 To Anchorage

Written & Illustrated By: allergeez ✨

Just shy of 6.5k words, and more snz than my typical fics cause this one is definitely self indulgent ~

After a month of working on this fic despite my crippling depression and self hatred, it’s gotta be one of my favorites I’ve written✨

Mentions public contagion, but honestly it’s just a bunch of Remi suffering 😏

And as always, Levi belongs to the lovely @thekinkyleopard 🌱

The airport was a bustling maze of noise and movement, with people rushing in every direction. Despite the chaotic atmosphere, Levi's face still held his trademark cheerful smile as he strolled hand in hand with his mate through the throngs of travelers. However, today there seemed to be a weariness in his step, slowing their progress through the sea of bodies. Remi's features were set in their usual scowl, his sharp green eyes scanning each passing person with suspicion, ready to push them aside if necessary. A messenger bag adorned one of the leopard's thin shoulders, containing their boarding passes, an extra jacket, and the book he was currently engrossed in for the flight. Remi's dingy backpack hung carelessly from his back, weighed down with their belongings for the trip ahead.

Almost silently, the wolf muffled a small, dry cough into his shoulder. “14B is our gate, yeah?” His deep voice pierced the silence between the two, and Levi’s bright eyes flew back to meet his mate’s.

He nodded, his smile faltering as he took in Remi's anxious demeanor. "Yeah, that's our gate." He squeezed his mate's hand reassuringly, silently hoping that the flight would be a smooth and uneventful one.

They weaved their way through the crowds until they reached their designated gate, finding two empty seats nearby. Levi gestured for Remi to take a seat before settling down next to him. The leopard let out a small sigh of relief as he sank into the cushioned seat, grateful for the brief moment of rest.

With a small yawn, the leopard fished through his bag to pull out their boarding passes, and handed one to his mate. Remi took the boarding pass from his mate's outstretched hand and glanced at it, then up at the departure screens above them, which flickered with information about their flight: "Flight 676 to Anchorage," he read out loud, tucking the pass into the inside pocket of his coat for safekeeping.

"Boarding starts in 20 minutes, love." The leopard gave Remi's hand a reassuring squeeze. Despite being awake almost all night packing both his own luggage AND Remi’s, then quadruple checking that they had everything possible together for their journey the following day, Levi was thankfully more cognizant than his mate and was able to keep up with more than one direction at a time.

The wolf looked away, his emerald eyes darting around the busy waiting area with renewed vigilance. It was hard for him to hide the fact that he wasn't feeling well; he felt feverish and nauseous from the car ride over here, and he was just barely able to hide the rounding of his consonants that came from the ever growing congestion behind his eyes. The press of bodies against him didn't help either; behind the wet cement block within his sinuses he could smell sweat and perfume mixing into a cloying cocktail of odors that made it hard for him to breathe comfortably.

Remi sighed through gritted teeth as he leaned back into his stiff chair and closed his eyes for a moment. His ears subconsciously twitched at the low rumble of the crowd, filtering out snippets of conversation: someone arguing about lost luggage...a baby crying in the distance...the scent of overcooked pretzels wafting from a nearby snack bar...

When did airports get so loud? And crowded? The wolf’s head spun as he sat in the leathery airport seat, a stubborn tickle gnawing at him and trying to get him to blow his cover in front of his mate. He had managed to smother a few sneezes into the plush collar of his sweatshirt earlier that morning when Levi was out of earshot but blowing now would definitely raise even the most sleep deprived leopard’s suspicions.

Silently he scrunched his nose back and forth before attempting a soft sniffle, although he quickly had to abort at the sheer waterlogged sound he produced.

With a determined glare, the wolf sat up straight in his seat and managed to knuckle at his overly sensitive nose before clearing his throat.

“I gotta pee, I’ll be right back in two seconds.” He tossed offhandedly to the other who sat tentatively, his blue eyes still locked on the many screens above to ensure they were in fact at the right gate. His expression twisted in surprise, then flickered to more concern.

“A-Are you sure, Rem? Okay but please hurry back we can’t miss the flight!” Levi called back anxiously but by then Remi was already weaving through the sea of people, in a B- Line for the nearest restroom, his nostrils flaring helplessly as he held his breath. Thankfully, the bathroom was right around the corner from their gate and as always, the men’s room had no line, allowing him to quickly slip into an open stall and nearly slam the door behind him, snatching a fistful of the single ply toilet paper from the roll before crushing it to his face as he pitched forward forcefully.

“hdt’ishhhh! Hhh—! Hihh’ISSHh! ihH’ktdSHhh!!! iH’tSSH! H— hhHiHhh! hhEhh-! HhEHh’iiTShh’iiEW!” His large frame was wracked with a fit of violent sneezes, leaving the wad of toilet paper in his hands a sopping mess.

Remi's body tensed as he braced himself against the stall wall, the force of his sneezes surprising even him. He had managed to keep them at bay for most of the morning, but now they were coming in rapid succession, each one stronger than the last.

Tears streamed from his emerald eyes as he gave a cautious inhale, then a slow exhale, and he tossed the sodden ball of paper into the open toilet.

“Bless you!” Called a stranger’s voice from another stall.

“Nnnngh—“ Remi grumbled low in his chest in acknowledgment as he unrolled more of the toilet paper on the wall and blew his nose with a soupy gurgle. With a grimace of disgust, he managed to clean himself up and toss the wad into the toilet with the other.

“Fuck me, I always feel like shit every god damn time we have to do ANYTHING.” The raven haired male growled loudly again, this time more to himself, and forcefully kicked the plexiglass walls of the stall he stood in, the sharp bang echoing loudly throughout the bathroom. Suddenly, the entire bathroom fell silent.

Frustrated and feverish, Remi finally exited the stall to an empty bathroom and stopped at the sinks to give himself a once over. He couldn’t look too much like walking death if he wanted to pass off as healthy to his ever inquisitive mate.

The wolf’s slightly dimmed green eyes scanned his reflection in the mirror, taking note of the deep purple circles under his eyes and the very subtle bulges of redness across his cheeks from how swollen his sinuses had started to become, as well as the slightly pink hue his nose had taken on.

The wolf took a second to turn on the water at the sink and splash some cool water across his face, using the bottom side of his shirt to dry himself afterward, finally taking a determined breath. “Let’s get this show on the road I guess…” he breathed before turning on his heels and making his way slowly from the quiet bathroom back out to the overwhelming mass of people. He swiftly wove through the other travelers until making it back to their gate, and Levi’s worried expression melted into happiness as soon as Remi’s face came into his line of sight.

“Perfect, you’re back! I think they’re just about to—“

Cutting the feline off, a voice came over the intercom, announcing boarding for their flight and Levi couldn’t help but giggle. “Perfect timing~”

Remi adjusted his backpack on his back before stretching his arms above his head with a loud yawn while he subconsciously gave his nose a good rub, a feeble attempt at looking “relaxed”.

With a knowing chuckle and a shake of his head, Levi followed suit and they made their way towards the line forming at the gate.

As they boarded the plane and found their seats, Remi couldn't help but feel a sense of anxiety creeping up on him. He had never been a fan of flying and always felt restless on long flights. But somehow he just had a feeling that this one would be even worse than usual.

As they approached the seats labeled clearly on thier boarding pass, Remi gestured to the leopard to slide in first to the window seat. He hated being able to see outside anyway; plus, this way he could avoid anyone trying to be overly friendly with his mate. He didn’t want to have to cause a scene. Levi tossed the wolf a grateful, tired smile and slid in to the seat closest to the window, his messenger bag clutched tightly in his hand.

Remi took an extra second before taking his seat while Levi was distracted to scrub his red rimmed nostrils within an inch of their life, you know, for good measure.

He could feel that stubborn tickle start to dislodge itself from his sinus cavity and he only had a few more moments before he’d be forced to just grin and bear it while in flight.

Suddenly, a strange man brushed against one of Remi’s broad shoulders before a friendly voice brought Remi back to reality.

“Excuse me sir,” Dressed in a crisp, white button-up shirt and expensive-looking brown slacks, the voice had come from a man that exuded an air of importance that was simply lost on Remington. As he blinked his dulled green eyes, trying to shake off his daze, the man asked politely, "Sorry, sir, are you sitting here?" The contrast between their appearances was stark - the man's pristine attire against Remington's rumpled clothes and unkempt hair.

Hearing the conversation, Levi grabbed his mate’s wrist and gave him a gentle tug. “Yes I’m sorry, sir, He was just sitting down, weren’t you Acushla?”

Levi’s face displayed a sheepish smile towards the man before he glared at Remi who raised his hands in front of him in defense as he sat in the middle seat next to the leopard.

“Uh, yeah.” The wolf cleared his throat, and nodded towards the man as he took off his backpack and sat it on the floor in front of him.

“No problem at all.” The man graciously smiled and waited a moment before scooting into his own seat on the aisle.

Levi already began to pull out his extra blanket and pillow, slipping a pastel blue hoodie over his head while he got as comfortable as he could against the metal window. He had his book in his hand, but Remi could instantly tell that he wouldn’t be reading much, taking into account how exhausted he was.

Shortly, the wolf tried to stay incredibly still as the strange man got into his seat. He had been interrupted while he was trying to rid himself of the tickle that now licked up the tip of his nose before burning like wildfire up through his entire sinus cavity.

Remi could barely hold back a small whimper than was almost inaudible within the seat of voices around them, crushing his index knuckle to his septum in hopes to smother the sneezes instead, and he held his breath with his eyes squeezed shut……

One…..two……three….

Then, suddenly as if a dam had given way, the tickle bloomed within the tip of his nose and he was no match for its intensity. Remi sucked in a deep, involuntary gasp before pitching forward, his face deeply buried within the fabric of his sweater collar.

“Huh'GDTS'ue! Hnkt'KNXTuhh! Hh’NDKT’ih!” Three deep, nearly stifled sneezes were extremely muffled into his sweater, although the stranger who took his seat directly next to the raven haired man offered a wary smile. “Bless you!” He nodded his understanding towards Remi, who by now wanted to shrink into his stiff airplane seat, although the wolf ignored him as he glanced over at his mate who studied him with one eye open for a second, then both of them.

“Bless you, Acushla, are you okay?” The leopard asked with concern, although it was quite obvious the exhaustion from the morning was weighing on the feline as he stretched out a hand to gently rub the back of his fingers against his mate’s cheek. Remi couldn’t have been more red, both from embarrassment and the fever he was sure he was running.

Remington shook his head to dismiss the leopard’s worry and his touch, although he wanted nothing more than to melt into the felines gentle hands, he was determined not to slow down the plans this time. No matter how much his brain throbbed with every breath he took, or how much his head felt airy— yet packed tightly with wet cement at the same time.

“I’m fine, it’s just the temperature difference from these ACs or something.” Remington reassured his mate with a gentle smirk before he reached up towards the small spout in the ceiling that was blasting him with cold air and turned it off.

To an exhausted Levi, this sounded like a plausible explanation. Remi’s nose was sensitive; he was a wolf after all… and sometimes he would just get set off by things— it wasn’t like that was out of the ordinary…

The leopard yawned quietly with a nod, readjusting his pillow against the window and closing his eyes. “Okay my love.” The smaller male murmured as he relaxed into his seat.

The wolf’s anxious eyes darted around the cabin as Levi began to doze off, and he quietly sniffled into the hem of his coat. Remington couldn't help but study him with a mix of love but also an underlying anxiety —the way his eyelashes fluttered against his freckled cheeks were just too adorable.

Even now, with the plane lights dim, and the constant low drone of the chatter throughout the cabin of the plane, Remi covertly knuckled at his nose, a bead of moisture gleaming in the scarce light, earning him a quick uneasy glance from the stranger next to him as he shuffled through his own carry-on bag.

Suddenly cutting through the white noise of the cabin, a gentle chime echoed through the plane’s intercom, followed by a gentle, velvety soft voice of what the wolf could assume was the pilot.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. Welcome to flight 676 to Anchorage, Alaska. Your flight today is looking to take around 9 and a half hours, and we’re not expected to have any delays or run into any turbulence.” The pilot explained slowly as the flight attendants began to walk up and down the aisles.

Without missing a beat, the emergency escape plan as well as the normal explanation and demonstration of the overhead oxygen masks in case of cabin depressurization was recited, followed by the bell of the Fasten Seatbelt sign becoming illuminated above everyone’s head.

Remi couldn’t help but look around anxiously, tossing a worried glance to his mate who was already sleeping peacefully while the hustle and bustle of the plane continued on around them, unaccustomed to handling the initial take off of the plane by himself. But with a determined grit of his teeth, he prepared himself none-the-less.

The plane rumbled and shook as it began its ascent, its powerful engines straining against gravity to haul the heavy metal bird into the sky. Brushing his long bangs from his forehead with a tense sigh, the raven haired man stared out of the small window from the corner of his eye, watching the world below turn into a colorful blur of tiny lights and shapes that were quickly turning into stars. His breath caught in his throat and he swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably in his seat while his long fingers twitched at his side. He wondered whether he should just ask for a drink to calm himself down, despite the fact that the plane had just left the ground moments earlier, but decided against it as the plane continued to climb into the sky.

The air at higher elevation was so dry and stale that it was scraping across his tongue like sandpaper, making him want to lick his lips over and over again, but he knew better than that. Better not to draw any more attention to himself than necessary… Although, he definitely felt his nostrils twitching; as if with a mind of their own. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the tickle that was beginning to dance deep around his sensitive sinuses. This only seemed to aggravate the blooming sensation, and he attempted to stifle it with a fist but failed miserably, sending a loud "heh’iTTSHH’iEW! ihh- ih’TTSSHH!" rippling through the otherwise quiet cabin.

Immediately, all eyes turned towards him - including those of the man sitting next to him who was now visibly uncomfortable with the unexpected noise and possibly contagious wolf. The stranger quickly moved away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible between them while pretending to be engrossed in his book.

The wolf held his breath while his fever flushed cheeks seemed to beam a darker shade of vermillion. Despite the entire cabin seemingly focused on him, Remi’s entire focus was on Levi, although to the downtrodden man’s good luck, the leopard didn’t even seem to stir in the slightest.

He desperately tried to hold back his breath, afraid of what would happen if he let it out. But as his lungs burned and his throat tightened, he knew he couldn't hold it any longer. He released a shaky exhale, only to be met with a harsh cough that rattled through his congested chest. He was torn between relief at being able to breathe and fear of the consequences of his actions.

He did his best to stifle the next few coughs into his sleeve, though they still echoed through the quiet cabin. He could feel the eyes of the other passengers on him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment.

The man next to him, who had recoiled when the canine first started coughing, now leaned over with concern in his eyes. "Hey buddy, you doing alright?" he asked kindly. Remi nodded, bristling slightly at the question, not meeting the man's gaze.

"Sorry," He mumbled, his voice raspy and slightly deeper than usual. "M’ fine, just allergies," the wolf replied tersely, turning his attention back out the window.

The man didn't look convinced. "That cough doesn't sound too good. Here, take some of these," he said, offering Remi a packet of cough drops from his bag.

Remi hesitated before accepting them with a quiet "thank you." He hoped taking the cough drops would show the man he was okay and get him to stop pressing the issue. Fuck, he hated people. Especially people who stuck their nose in his business….

Unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth, the menthol provided instant but temporary relief to his irritated throat. He knew the cough suppressant would only mask his symptoms, not cure the cold that was quickly progressing, but maybe it would get him through the remaining hours of their flight.

Within seconds, however, the wolf could feel another round of wet, chesty coughs rising up from his lungs. He tried to suppress them but it was useless, as always. He doubled over as a string of harsh coughs wracked his body, spraying fine droplets of contagious germs into the recirculated air.

The man next to him who just seconds earlier seemed sympathetic to the raven haired man’s situation, now recoiled in disgust, grabbing a napkin to shield his face. Other passengers nearby shot Remi angry glares, and a flight attendant hurried over with concern and offered the wolf a plastic cup full of water, which he eventually accepted hesitantly. Tossing another anxious glance at his mate curled up against the window, his cheeks almost couldn’t get any more red. Thankfully, the leopard still slept like a rock.

“Sorry," Remi croaked miserably, his usual deep, almost booming voice barely a whisper. He wanted to disappear, honestly. But as his embarrassment grew, so did his increasing frustration, causing his left eye to twitch every time a new pair of eyes bore into him.

As the flight attendant finally made her way back to her seat, he tried to sink back as far as possible into his own chair. His throat burned fiercely and his chest felt heavy. The wolf's ears were starting to plug up and he could feel pressure building in his sinus cavities. His whole body ached with feverish chills. He just wanted to curl up somewhere dark and sleep for days.

“Uh,” Remi snorted back the congestion miserably, dragging one of his wrists under his streaming nose, a glimmering trail of moisture deposited on his clammy skin. “I deed to get through…” he stated to the man next to him simply, pressing a wrist to his septum as the ever-present irritation blooming in the recesses of his nose made itself known again.

The man groaned, irritated that he had to set down the SkyMall magazine he was leaving through, but still rose to his feet and slid out of way to stand in the aisle, obviously recoiling as the wolf slipped by him.

Remi made his way down the aisle towards the bathroom at the back of the plane, stifling a few raspy coughs into his sleeve as he went. He could feel thick congestion building in his sinuses, packing tightly behind his eyes and making his head pound. As he reached the bathroom, he let out an explosive fit of ticklish sneezes that he barely had time to aim at his elbow.

"hh’IISHH! —hd’ISCHhhh!! —hhh’dtTISHhh! —hdt’ISHHhh! Ugh..." Remi groaned, quickly letting himself into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He leaned heavily on the sink, avoiding his reflection in the mirror as he fished in the inside pocket of his coat for a travel pack of tissues he had conveniently stashed there earlier that morning. He blew his nose forcefully several times, filling up each consecutive handful of tissues instantly. Crumpling them in his fist, he tossed them in the trash can with a miserable, unproductive sniffle.

Despite blowing his nose, Remi could still feel pressure building inside his sinuses. He snorted again thickly, tasting the unpleasant discharge in the back of his throat. His ears felt clogged and he worked his jaw, trying to get them to pop, but to his dismay, it was seemingly impossible.

After washing his hands, the wolf wet a paper towel and held it to his flushed face, hoping the coolness would provide some relief. But his head continued to pound and his nose tickled maddeningly.

“God, fuck ME.” the frustrated man growled, finally managing to make eye contact with himself in the mirror; but even he couldn’t help but grimace from the image he was faced with.

The usual blindingly bright gleam from his emerald eyes was considerably dimmer, and the purple bags under his eyes now looked like trenches that bordered his flushed, swollen cheeks, and bright red nose. His forehead was littered with beads of sweat, and his normally tanned skin had become uncharistically pale.

“Geezus fuck, Remington, you’re lookin’ mad rough, bud.” The wolf snarled under his breath to himself in disgust, shaking his head as he stood up straight.

He couldn’t believe how terrible he looked and felt. This cold or whatever it was, was really taking a toll on him.

But he had to keep pushing through. The two men FINALLY had the money together that they needed to buy some land; something him and Levi had been talking about since they first met. He couldn’t let something so stupid, like another illness, slow them down this time.

With a defeated sigh, Remi splashed water on his face and took a deep breath before unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out.

He nearly collided with the flight attendant who was just about to knock on the door. “M’bad.” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with one hand as he stumbled past her towards his seat. She gave him a concerned look but said nothing, moving on down the aisle to check on other passengers.

Noticing Remi standing in the aisle next to him, waiting to slip back into his own seat, the once concerned, kind business man rolled his eyes, once again closing his magazine before rising to his feet and making enough room for the raven haired man to shimmy by him.

The wolf let out a groan as soon as he sat down, trying not to think about how much longer this flight still had left. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, hoping for some relief from the pounding headache and congested sinuses. But no matter how much he tried to relax, the pressure in his nose and behind his eyes only seemed to intensify.

After only a few moments, the wolf groaned softly as he felt another fit of sneezes building in the back of his nose. Just as his jaw fell slack and his long eyelashes fanned his cheeks, the wolf cupped his hands over his face just in time as the forceful explosions burst out of him.

"iit’shHiEW! hh'IETSH’UE! heh’iTTSHH’iEW! ITSCCCHH’ah!! Hih—! Hd'TISHHHh!"

The poor wolf shuddered with each messy sneeze, helplessly spraying his hands with germ laden saliva. The loud sneezes echoed through the quiet cabin, causing several nearby passengers to turn and stare at the miserable canine. He sniffled thickly as he grabbed tissues from his pocket to blow his sore, irritated nose. At this point, he was actually surprised that all of his loud outbursts hadn’t woken his mate even once, although he couldn’t say he wasn’t thankful.

Remi blew his nose wetly, filling the tissue in an instant. He leaned back and sighed, tugging his hood up in an attempt to hide his face.

The man seated next to Remi shook his head in disapproval. He had been growing increasingly annoyed with the ailing canine's noisy sneezing and coughing throughout the short time that the plane had been in the air. As the raven haired male blew his poor, raw nose yet again and crossed his arms over the fold-out tray in front of him, burying his face in the fabric of his coat sleeves, the man finally had enough.

"Excuse me," he called out to a passing flight attendant. "Could I possibly switch seats? The person next to me seems quite ill." He grimaced in disgust as he gestured towards Remi’s crumpled form.

The flight attendant gave a sympathetic nod and began scanning the cabin for an open seat to relocate the disgruntled passenger. "I'll see what I can do, sir," she replied.

"Thank you," he said with relief in his voice, before glaring in Remi’s direction.

The flight attendant soon returned with a new seat assignment for the man, and he quickly gathered up his belongings and moved away from the ailing wolf. Remi didn't even seem to notice, as he was too preoccupied with his miserable state, although after a few moments when he finally lifted his head from his arms to desperately scrub at his streaming nose, he couldn’t help but feel relieved to have the space.

As the plane continued on its journey, Remi's condition only seemed to worsen. His sneezes became more frequent and forceful, and his coughs grew deeper and more persistent. He desperately tried to muffle them with tissues or by coughing into his elbow, but it was no use. The other passengers were starting to shoot him dirty looks, clearly annoyed by his constant noise.

But the wolf couldn't help it. He was feeling absolutely dreadful. His head was throbbing, his throat was raw and scratchy, and his whole body felt achy and exhausted. He tried to close his eyes and sleep off the illness for the rest of the flight, but every time he started to doze off, a desperate sneeze or cough would jolt him awake again.

Eventually against his better judgment, when the same flight attendant came around with her cart full of refreshments, he ordered a small mug of hot tea. If Levi had been awake to see the uncharacteristic events unfold, he would never let the stubborn wolf live it down.

The warmth seemed to provide some relief for a few moments before another fit of sneezes tore thorough his raw throat, hitting him hard.

"Hihh’ISSHh! ihH’ktdSHhh!!! iH’tSSH! " The wolf groaned pitifully through each loud sneeze as he blew through yet another tissue.

The passengers around him were growing increasingly agitated at this point, but Remi couldn't bring himself to care. He just wanted this flight to be over so he could go home and crawl into bed.

Remington sighed and slumped back in his seat, completely exhausted. He had used up the last of his tissues and was now resigned to just letting his nose run freely. The wolf glanced over at Levi, still sound asleep despite all of Remi's explosive sneezes.

A fit of harsh coughs suddenly seized Remi's chest. He tried to suppress them but it was no use, a harsh barking cough burst from his lips followed by another and another. He leaned forward, shoulders shaking, as he hacked painfully into his elbow. The wolf curled forward, one hand over his mouth while the other grasped the armrest tightly. The spasm left him gasping for breath, ribs aching. Remi groaned, wiping his watering eyes with the back of his hand before sighing and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. The pounding in his head was relentless and he could feel another round of coughs building in his chest.

The man in the seat across the aisle shot him an irritated glare which the wolf didn't see. He was too focused on trying to catch his breath between coughs.

Finally, the fit eased up, though it left the poor man’s throat feeling like he'd swallowed broken glass. He slumped back in his seat completely spent, wanting nothing more than to be home; not running around the entire state of rural Alaska looking at land to purchase.

Just then, the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom announcing their initial descent. They'd be landing soon.

Remington scrubbed a hand over his face for the millionth time.

‘Almost there,’ he told himself, ‘just a little longer…...’

Beside him, Levi finally stirred, blinking sleepily as he woke, looking around the cabin as if he was trying to figure out where he was. The feline rubbed his tired, icy blue eyes, sitting up as a small yawn escaped his lips, stretching his thin arms over his head.

Taken off guard by the sudden movement from his mate, Remi held his breath, sitting completely still in his seat.

In hindsight, he should have had a better cover planned. The smaller male wasn’t a T-Rex; it’s not like the wolf’s immobilization and silence would make him disappear from Levi’s curious gaze.

"Morning, Acushla, you alright?" Levi asked with a soft tilt of his head, frowning with concern at the sight of his mate. Remington looked absolutely miserable; there was no hiding his exhaustion-laced features or the hue of his cheeks and nostrils.

Still, Remi tried to keep up his badly damaged facade.

The wolf nodded, trying to force one of his trademark smirks but wincing as a string of harsh coughs escaped him, sending another wave of pain through his aching body. He squinted his eyes shut as the sound echoed around the cabin, making the other passengers jump and scowl in his direction in annoyance for the millionth time that day. Quickly glancing around sheepishly, he felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment at his lack of control.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, coughing again, albeit quietly this time, into his fist. "Just allergies or something," he added weakly.

The wolf couldn't imagine how he was going to convince Levi of that when he looked - and sounded - so damn sick. But he had to try.

The feline made a skeptical face, rolling his eyes at his mate’s attempt at deception, but he knew better than to challenge the other’s explanation with so many people around. Offhandedly, the leopard took note of the empty aisle seat next to canine that once had a heavier set businessman sitting in it at the beginning of their flight.

While he didn’t verbally acknowledge it, Levi could easily assume the events that unfolded during his nap.

"We're almost there," Levi said gently, reaching over to ruffle Remi's hair that was clearly drenched in sweat with a reassuring smile spreading over his own tired features. "The hotel I got for us isn’t too far from the Anchorage Airport, anyway. We can spend a few days there before we meet with the realtor~"

The wolf seemed too tired to protest or even do much more than acknowledge Levi's touch, his head lolling against the headrest as the leopard’s fingers carded through the thick, raven colored strands.

As they touched down on the tarmac and the aircraft finally rumbled to a stop, they heard the hydraulic brakes hiss and saw the flashing lights reflecting off of their snow covered surroundings, blinking in sync with their tired hearts. With a deep inhale, Remi forced himself to stand up stiffly, grabbing their bags from the overhead bin while Levi stuffed their various belongings that were strewn about between the seats into his messenger bag. The feline meticulously combed through the space, determined to leave with everything they had brought with them, and once he was satisfied that everything was safely put away, the leopard stood up with a cheerful grin and squeezed past the wolf’s large frame to lead the two off of the plane.

Remi felt like he was wading through mud as he made his way down the aisle, trying to match Levi's quick, excited strides. He couldn't help but think the cool air outside would feel glorious against his flushed skin.

Passengers around them shifted and grunted irritably, avoiding eye contact with the visibly sick canine and the leopard who seemed to be inexplicably oblivious to their plight. Some even went as far as pulling their jackets closer around themselves, noses wrinkled in disgust at the readily apparent sickness that clung to Remington like a second skin.

The buzz of the engines faded into silence under the mix of voices of passengers throughout the cabin, bathing them in relative quiet for a moment before the hiss of the exit door opening filled their ears. Levi took lead, shoulders back and head held high, seemingly oblivious to the dirty looks he received for walking alongside his obviously contagious mate. The whiff of engine fumes mixed with with pine trees and sea salt assailed their senses as they pushed through the crowd, waiting for their chance to disembark.

As they approach the exit of the plane, the two men are gently stopped by the same tired looking flight attendant.

"Here, put this on," the attendant offered kindly, yet firmly as she held out a surgical mask to the wolf, who took it wordlessly, too exhausted to protest, and strapped it over his nose and mouth.

His mate’s silent compliance causes Levi to blink in surprise, although he still kept his thoughts to himself. There was always a time and a place with Remington.

“Thank you, Miss.” The leopard smiled gratefully towards her and she nods with a sympathetic expression before allowing the two to exit.

After what seemed like an eternity to Remi, they were finally able to make their way off of the plane, and they stepped down onto the gangway, the wolf’s heavy feet clanking softly against the metal grating. The sound was muffled by the thick rubber soles of his boots as he stumbled down the portable hallway behind Levi in sort of a fog, feeling every ache and pain in his bones from the long, miserable flight.

As they navigate through the bustling terminal and towards the baggage claim, without warning, Remi's steps start to slow down and he began to lag behind slightly.

Suddenly, a harsh “HI’DTSCHIEW! hh—hEhTXSSHhh’ih!” echoed through the massive airport from behind the feline, startling him.

Levi spun around to see his mate’s hand covering his face, and an unproductive, waterlogged sniffle made the leopard‘s eyebrows knit together immediately, his expression filled with worry.

The smaller man hesitated before placing a hand on Remi's forehead with a frown. “Bless you, my love…” Levi whispered gently, his eyebrows furrowing more intensely. After a moment, he tried again.

“You’re sure you’re feeling okay, Acushla? I heard you sneeze a few times on the plane, too…”

Remi feels like he’s burning up, his skin hot to the touch. Pulling down his mask to expose his face, the wolf gives his mate a weak smile, trying to reassure him.

“—I’b fide, just wadt to get goigg…”