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#you thought i forgot about this series...
januaryembrs · 1 day
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LET IT ONCE BE ME | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [7]
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Description: The THREE times she waits + the ONE time she doesn't have to.
length: 17.9k
trigger warnings: criminal minds gore + violence. jealousy. talks of sex and male and female anatomy. they get horny for one another basically. talks of Maeve + day of the dead. yearning idk? mention of one twin absorbing the other one in the womb (sorry if this is taken the wrong way but I conferred with my friend who did this when she was a foetus and she said it's not offensive and is okay to talk about so?)
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‘Let it once be me, who do I have to speak to 
About if they can redo the prophecy?’
The one where they pretend to be married
“I will not be exploited in my own home,” Bugsy chided, the faint smell of burning toast filling the small kitchenette. The butter knife sat ready in her hand, salted spread dripping down the handle where she’d been busy making breakfast before she had been called. 
He blinked back at her, unamused. 
“No. You cannot just scream at me whenever you want something from me. This relationship is toxic,” She huffed, turning back to butter her toast with the thick goodness. Sometimes she loathed living with three boys who had her wrapped around their fingers. 
The second piece of bread popped out of the toaster, which she quickly grabbed and began spreading, her fingers gripping onto the crusts gently as she did so. The squealing started again just as she readied herself to take the first bite, and she whirled around to see the two orange eyes that stared at her from on top of the counter. 
“Sergio, stop. You’ll get Niko all wound up-” She hadn’t even finished her sentence when Spencer shuffled into the kitchen, his hair mussed from sleep, his long plaid pyjama bottoms skirting high up his ankles where he’d impossibly hit another growth spurt and forgot to find better fitting clothes. Niko darted in between his legs, rushing to jump up on the breakfast bar, where Sergio was already interrogating Bugsy for more treats, a low yowl leaving his throat at the thought of being left out of feeding. “You boys are driving me crazy, no more biscuits for today-”
The yowl grew in decibels, a second one symphonying it, and she rolled her eyes, ignoring the whiney babies, turning to hand Spencer his piece of toast, crust already cut off and split into halves the way he liked it. 
“I warned you not to treat them when I’m not here, they’ve become spoiled brats,” She huffed, though she felt her entire body warm up when she looked at his doe eyes, still half idled with sleep as he watched her swan around his kitchen, their kitchen technically since she had all but moved in to his little apartment meant for two housemates. 
But they weren’t just house mates. They weren’t even dating. But she knew he wanted to. Because he loved her. 
“How could you expect me to say no, they’re so compelling,” He said, his voice gravelly where he’d lightly snored, as much as he always denied he did, fussing Niko behind the ear with long, gentle fingers. He took the plate out of her hand, his eyes swirling with a moved expression when he saw she’d cut his crusts off, his gaze snapping back up to where she’d sweeped her hair out her face, a large shirt and a pair of his clean boxers adorning her figure, “Thankyou,”
He hadn’t said the three magic words since, neither of them had. But they felt it. The weird static that had been thick in the air between them before was crackling along their skin with every glance, like they were both thinking the same thing.
I love you, and you love me.
He smiled at her warmly, the urge to grab her by her face and kiss her skin all over almost overwhelming him, because he counted himself lucky every single day. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. He heard it in every heart beat, like a mantra that his chest clung to since the words had spilled from her soft lips. She was waiting for him, for his head to settle with the idea that Maeve was gone, and he could let her go and not feel terrible about it; waiting for him to make the first move. 
“Coffee?” He asked, watching her eyes soften as they trailed over his face, and he worried he looked a little worse for wear since he’d rolled out of bed and headed towards the source of the girl he loved arguing with someone in the kitchen even though that someone had turned out to be the greedy bastard they loved dearly.
He knew he was the luckiest guy in the world to have her waiting on him, and he never let himself forget it. 
“Yes, please,” She said, and he brushed past her, close enough for it to be on purpose when their arms touched, his hands busying themselves in between the plate and munching on the first bite of breakfast, because he didn’t know what he might do if they spent one more second looking at one another like that. 
She watched him move towards the kettle she’d sent him for Christmas when she was in London. After using one for two weeks she’d seen the light and realised he would love the nifty little invention. Her arm burned where he’d touched as if he’d taken a flame to her skin, her chest boiling up with every single thing she could think to tell him, like how good his hair looked when he didn’t do much with it, or how hot his voice sounded like that, or that she really really did love him the way she’d never even thought possible outside her silly romance novels, that she’d never believed Pip when he’d told Estella; “You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read,” and yet when she thought of it now, watching Spencer busy himself shovelling sugar into two mugs, it made entire perfect sense. 
She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew him, and she didn’t ever want to know. 
She opened her mouth to say something, perhaps to say those three little words again, or just to tell him he smelled good even when he hadn’t put any deodorant or aftershave on, but her phone’s ringtone cut her off. 
Already knowing it was going to be Penelope with a new case, she flicked the call on to speaker phone, “What you got for me, baby girl?” She said, trying to make her voice as deep as it would go, and she heard Spencer snickering where he was stirring hot water into the instant coffee.
“Was that supposed to be Morgan?” Pen’s voice replied, a small chuckle of her own evident even through the digital tone.
“I thought that was pretty good,” Bugsy replied, stuffing the last of the toasted bread into her mouth.
“I thought he was right in the room with us for a moment there,” Spencer chimed in, humouring her, as he also took an enormous bite from his breakfast, knowing they were more than likely about to be called in and their game of house, one where they flustered every time they spoke, was going to be over, “I was like, woah, Morgan, when did you get here-”
“Alright, my little rascals. We have a case, Hotch wants everyone in,” Penelope said, no doubt already paging through JJ, “No more coffee for either of you, you’re both being weird enough as it is,” 
“Definitely not,” Spencer said, sliding the mug of milky, sweet caffeine over to Bugsy who smiled at him wickedly.
“Wheels up in twenty, Garcia,” The woman added in the same voice as before, Spencer laughing with a shake of his head and moving to stand behind her, his chest pressed against her back, his arm winding around her waist to give her a small, affectionate squeeze on the hip. 
Penelope sighed, already accepting that their mercurial attitudes weren’t going away any time soon, the sudden mood change entirely odd to the rest of the team who had no idea that they had almost kissed just one week ago. To everyone else, they just seemed to have bounced back to normal, reverted back to Bugsy and Spencer; attached at the hip, only the eye contact and secretive smiles had been dialled to a hundred. The line went dead, and her head shot to look at him, where his hand had yet to move, and it was scoldingly hot against the soft fat that gathered at her hips.
“I’ll get your good shirt, I put it out to dry yesterday,” She said, her voice suddenly much less brave than it had been when she saw his eyes crinkling with a small smile. 
He nodded, and she caught his gaze trailing down her nose, darting over her lips for a second in a way that made her chest rev like a Ferrarri out of gear. She felt her breath catch in her throat when he looked back up to her eyes, his forest hues entrancing like he was playing some silent flute song and she was a snake dancing under his orders. 
He took a second to realise they were standing in his kitchen, his body pressed against hers like he hadn’t even realised they were so close, like he’d just gravitated to her that way, like he couldn’t stop it even if he’d tried to. He’d had a taste of nectar, and he was a drunk man ever since. 
Spencer wrangled a hold of himself, allowing himself to stroke the back of her head lovingly, and pressing a kiss to her crown, before he stepped away from her, and the siren song dropped, the two of them dispersing to get ready for the case. 
Bugsy swore she could hear her heart pounding the entire drive to headquarters.
“I think the real question is why married couples?” Hotch mused, a steaming cup of black coffee sitting in front of him on the jet, his nose in the file on his lap. 
Bugsy scanned over the manilla folder in her hands, her legs swinging rhythmically beneath the table she sat on, Rossi to her left, her own second cup of coffee squeezed between her thighs. It was a heavy case for a weekend morning, three married couples found slashed and dumped together, the UnSub showing no signs of slowing or stopping.
“If he’s a sadist, having a witness to his torture heightens his pleasure,” Alex added, her lips pursed in contemplation, her hair primped surprisingly neat considering they’d been called in with little to no notice on a Sunday. 
“Israel Keyes kidnapped a husband and wife at gunpoint, got them in a car, took them to a remote location, and then killed the husband in front of the wife,” Spencer said, trying not to look straight at Bugsy when he felt her eyes on him.
He’d never been one to keep a good poker face, never been good at hiding how he felt especially when he was happy. And she made him happier than he deserved to be. He knew their little arrangement would become glaringly obvious to the rest of the team if he let himself look at her. he had no control of his face when it came to her, how he felt his eyes soften, his lips turn up into a dopey smile, his hands itching to touch her just to confirm she was real.
He saw her head tilt down, into her lap as she tried desperately to focus on the words on the page, but he caught the small smile that she kept for herself, and he had a feeling she was struggling just as much as he was. 
“Keyes was a sexual sadist, though,” Rossi interjected, his hands wrapped around a scolding cup of the green tea Penelope had bought them because she’d read of the stress relief benefits. They’d taken it, but David and Bugsy were the only ones who had tried it, “This guy, I don’t know,” 
“Cutting a husband and wife to death, it’s more like he’s mocking their marriage bond,” JJ said, her bluebell hues dancing to Bugsy when the girl chimed in.
“Mutilating both of them, killing them together, it’s like the idea of couples and happy marriage is a trigger for him; it’s personal. He wants to make them pay for their happiness, likely because something’s stopping him from having it too,” She said, taking a long sip of her coffee, Rossi nodding along with her. 
“That’s where my head’s at. ‘You took each other for better or worse, now I’m going to show you worse’,” He said, leaning back against the table, his shoulder nudging the younger girl. 
Derek stroked a hand over his stubbled beard, “His home life’s probably a wreck, at least one ex-wife, not to mention mom and dad,”  
“Alright we need to hit the ground,” Hotch said, flicking a glance at the youngest agent where she was all but inhaling her sweet beverage, “Prentiss and Reid, I want you mapping out a geographical profile,”
She nodded, her eyes slowly trailing to Spencer’s as Hotch distributed jobs around the team, but her head subconsciously tuned his stern voice out into static. Because when she looked up at his face, he was already staring at her, and the sound of her heartbeat racing crawled its way back into her ear, the thrumming so loud she was sure David could hear it too, she might as well have held a megaphone to her mouth and announced “Spencer Reid, you make me so nervous in the good kind of way,”
His hazel eyes trailed over her face, her expression unreadable as she scrambled to keep a lid on her feelings, and she wondered if this was where the phrase ‘Don’t shit where you eat,’ came from, because him so much as looking at her wiped her mind completely, which was not ideal for an agent working on a case. But she couldn’t help it, he was enchanting, and she guessed he was having just as much of an inner quarrel as he looked away from her, the apples of his cheeks and tips of his earlobes turning a strawberry ice cream pink. 
She had no idea how she was going to make it through the rest of the day so close to him. 
“First couple were last seen on the corner of Hill Avenue, Bella Mia Italian restaurant,” Bugsy read from her scrawled notes, as Spencer took a purple white board pen to the map of Detroit. Drawing a circle of a 5 centimetre radius around the little dot, he kept his eyes ahead of him. Hearing her pace behind him, he didn’t need to look up to know she was chewing her cuticles again. 
“Stop biting,” He chided lightly, hearing a guilty silence where he knew she’d caught herself with embarrassment. He tried not to show his amusement, knowing it would only make her feel worse, he bit down a smirk and raised his pen back to the map, “Next one?” 
She’d been on edge all day. He would have probably brushed it off as caffeine jitters seeing as she was on her fourth cup already, but Spencer knew her too well to know her tolerance was so high she had about two more mugs in her before she’d start to crash. 
He knew what it was, the memory of her skin beneath his lips burning his cheeks all over again, the look in her eyes when he’d been close enough they were sharing breath. He knew what it was because he felt it too. It was like their confession had set off a ticking time bomb, one that neither of them had the countdown to, and the clicking of every passing second sounded oddly like a pulse in their throats. To put it short, just the sound of her footsteps was making his skin pimpled with gooseflesh. 
“Uh, next one is Bowlarama, about ten stores down from there, Couple number two were seen getting milkshakes and heading towards the parking lot before they went missing,” She recited, her fingers firmly clutching the paper in her hand to resist the urge of gnawing at her nails again. Why was she so nervous? She lived with Spencer, ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with Spencer, spent almost all her evenings either playing chess or watching movies with Spencer, or on the odd occasion he found a book in reach he hadn’t read yet, he’d read out parts to her he found particularly engaging to those million, trillion, billion neurological pathways of his. 
The squealing of the pen against the board was the only thing keeping her head in the case, Spencer’s messy handwriting dotting around the map with points of interest, and she begged her brain to kick into gear the way it normally did, tried everything to yank herself out of the head fog she’d found herself lost in where thoughts of him emerged through like Mr Darcy strolling through those clouded moors, like how his voice sounded when he smiled, how his hand looked gripping that pen, how his body was lithe and handsome even from the back. 
She shook her head, jamming her face back into her files, to the gory images of couple number three, mutilated and bloody, and reminded herself she had a job to do. 
Get it together, Prentiss.
“Couple number three’s last known location was on the corner of Whittier Avenue, outside a wine bar named Blue Mates,” Bugsy read out, hoping her hot cheeks would dissipate before he noticed, “It seems couples out on date night really agitate this guy,” 
Spencer hummed, focused on his third circle, the three of them overlapping with almost precise measurements. It was hard not to notice the pattern to them. He heard her draw nearer with his profile complete, and they stood beside one another, so close they knocked hands when they leaned in to take a closer look at the rings.
“He hits the same street of stores every time, one after another,” Spencer said, his long forefinger trailing down the strip of shops and bars the UnSub seemed to have a taste for, “I mean, excluding retail and supermarkets, since they’re unlikely spots for a husband and wife to go out on a date, the pattern is really quite linear where he hits next,” 
Gently taking the pen out of his hands, Bugsy leaned up to colour in every single store that would be considered retail, crossing out a pet shop or two, leaving only the cafes, bars, restaurants, even a cinema. And sure enough, the three spots the victims had been last seen lined up perfectly as the first three ‘date night’ locations on the strip, the next being a steak restaurant named The Greasy Grill. 
“How much do you want to bet our UnSub is getting a craving for Sirloin right about now?” Bugsy said, putting the pen down onto the table and they exchanged a look of accomplishment, just as Hotch walked in with the Chief of Detroit police. 
“What did you find?” Hotch asked, his eyes falling to the asterisks drawn on the whiteboard, the rest of the known locations Penelope had sent dotted around the map. 
“Date night is very important to this UnSub,” Spencer said, the two of them turning to their boss, his shoulder bumping hers, and it was only then she’d realised she was all but pressing up into his side. 
“He goes on dates?” The chief of police asked, his brows furrowed. Taking a step away, her eyes darting to the map as a means of distracting herself, she pointed to the ink marks they’d squiggled on the paper.
“No, but the victims do and he knows that,” She explained, tracing a chewed fingertip down the street, “The UnSub hit here first, where our first couple went out for pizza. He then moved down here where the second victims had their date night in a bowling alley, and onto our newest victims, they were last seen having wine here, each kidnapping site along the same strip with the next possible location being right here,” She said, her finger slapping against the Greasy Grill, Hotch nodding in thought as the Chief got on the phone with his own team. 
“Good work, you two,” Hotch hummed, and he opened his mouth to speak again when Bugsy’s phone began to ring.
Snatching it out of her pocket, she caught sight of Alex’s name before swiping to answer, pressing it to her ear, “Hello?” 
“Fourth victim has just been found dumped in a car.” The woman said immediately, and Bugsy switched her mobile to speaker so the other two could hear her. Turning on her heels to face the white board, she grabbed the pen resting on the table beside her, yanking the lid off with her teeth.
“Where?” She asked, Spencer picking the plastic from between her lips to help her communicate, her eyes focused on the road names as she waited for Alex’s response. 
“Back alley between Warren and Forest Avenue, one woman found alone in a white Buick,” Alex said, and all three of their faces scrunched in confusion as she said it. 
“He’s changed his victimology,” Spencer murmured and Bugsy nodded, her lips pressed in a flat line, “Alex, is the woman married at least, or has the UnSub completely altered his preference?”
“We have her husband here right now,” Alex confirmed, and Hotch stepped over to where the two geniuses inspected the map, “He said he missed a dinner reservation they had two nights ago at a restaurant called-”
“The Greasy Grill?” Spencer and Bugsy spoke synchronously, and Alex paused audibly. 
“I take it you two have figured out his pattern already?” She asked, though she didn’t sound all too surprised. 
“See if the husband knows anything else, Blake. We’re going to figure out the next location that fits the pattern,” Hotch ordered, and they bid each other goodbye, as Bugsy and Spencer were already coordinating which plots of land were retail stores. 
By the time the line went dead, there was a big red mark circling a mini golf course slash cocktail bar, and the duo looked at him expectantly. 
“If the UnSub keeps his victims for around three days at a time, and the woman was found this morning, my guess is he’s going to head there tonight,” Bugsy said, capping the pen and dropping it back onto the desk, feeling Spencer nodding behind her, “And if the victim was supposed to be at the restaurant with her husband, it means he’s still looking for couples, he just happened to get unlucky. He’s going to want another happy-go-lucky husband and wife pairing,” 
Hotch’s face became unreadable for a moment, his gaze switching between the two of them, like he was assessing the risk factor of sending his two youngest agents undercover for the second time. But they seemed to have worked together seamlessly the first time, in that casino, so he didn’t see the qualms about asking them to work the same act this time.
“What?” Bugsy asked, the look in his eye unnerving her, and she flicked a glance behind her at Spencer’s equally lost expression, turning back to see Hotch dialling Dave’s number to update him on their plan, “Hotch, what is it?”
“He wants a happy couple,” Hotch said, his phone already up to his ear as he eyed the little to zero space between the two agents who swore blind they were just friends, “We’re going to give him one,” 
She had to admit, this was a little nicer than the red dress she’d been stuffed into last time. The sundress was flowy enough she could hide her gun strapped to her hip, and still compliment her figure nicely enough that she couldn’t complain. And best of all, it meant she could wear her ballet pumps instead of those god awful stilettos she’d pulled out last time they were undercover. 
She still remembered that evening in the casino, watching Spencer’s big brain tick faster than she’d thought possible even for him. The briefing of this even seemed much more relaxed, seeing as their aim was to look like the happiest couple alive. ‘You worry about playing your parts, we’ll worry about playing ours,’; was what Alex had said when she’d brought in a dress about Bugsy’s size, the woman already styling her hair to look like she was really going on a date. 
Because she was, sort of, not really, going on a date with Spencer. Except none of it was real, like someone up there had to have one final laugh at her luck, like that carrot on a string she’d been waiting patiently for the past week was looking a lot more delicious by the second as it dangled in front of her.  
There was a knock on the small hotel room Hotch had booked them in for the evening, seeing as they were going to be scoping out the area until late, and Bugsy headed for the door without pause, thinking it was JJ returning with the fake wedding rings they’d gotten from a cheap jewellers down the street. 
She swung the door open, only to be greeted by two dark eyes looking at her done up face, her primped hair, her floral dress. 
“Spence,” She said, picking over every inch of him, breathless already, because she always thought he looked hot in a button down shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, “You look-”
“You look beautiful,” He rushed, like he might just burst if he held it in any longer, and she smiled sheepishly, her face flooding with heat all over again. Damn you, Reid, with your stupid charm and ridiculously good looking lips.
“You look beautiful too,” She complimented, noticing a gold band on his finger then and she realised he had something in his palm, “You run into JJ already?” 
He nodded, smiling with a stammered breath, “Yeah, I said I’d come check if you were ready. Hotch and Dave are already there scoping out the bar,” 
She simpered under the weight of his nervousness, “Well, I’m ready,” Holding out her left hand, she raised her ring finger, “Marry me, pretty boy,” 
He snickered, shaking his head at her clear diversion from the stifling tension in the air, and held her hand in his delicately, his skin warm as it encompassed hers entirely, and he was careful to slip the false engagement ring over her digits, following it with a gold band of her own. 
“You ready to get your ass kicked at miniature golf whilst our friends catch a criminal, Mr Reid?” She asked, and he had yet to let go of her hand as she shut the door behind her, slipping her hotel room key into her purse. 
“That’s a bold statement from such a sore loser, Mrs Reid,” He said back, a smile so wide he thought he might burst a vessel as she laughed, and tightened her fingers around his, interlacing them just like she had done a handful of times before, and his chest crackled with white hot excitement when she knocked her shoulder into his side in affection. 
His lips scorched with the words Mrs Reid the entire drive to the bar. 
“Any eyes on him, yet?” Bugsy whispered to the women in the stalls, touching up her lipstick as JJ and Alex hid in the women’s bathroom for the signal. 
“Not yet,” Blake said, sitting on the closed toilet seat in her kevlar and jacket, all but twiddling her thumbs and wishing she’d brought a sudoku, “Are you guys having fun at least?”
“Pretending to be married to my best friend while a serial killer eyes up my guts for the taking; yeah I’m peachy,” Bugsy replied, rubbing her lips together and making sure her gun was still strapped tight to her hip, “Besides, he really is kicking my ass at golf,”
“He’s going to let you win anyway, you know that right?” JJ said, tucking her feet up onto the seat in her own stall in case anyone who wasn’t on their team came in to the bathroom, “He always lets you win because he knows it makes you happy,”
Bugsy paused, the tissue that was collecting rogue lipstick smudges from her face almost falling in the sink, and she was quick to gather her voice with a clear of her throat.
“Maybe I just win because I’m good, Jennifer,” She said, a lilt of teasing in her tone, binning the scrap tissue paper and heading for the door, “Keep an eye out, kiddos. I’m going back in,”
They chirped a goodbye, the two of them sighing as they waited for Hotch’s message, and Bugsy walked back out to where Spencer was waiting by Hole Seven. It was a classic windmill on top of a hill, a small tunnel where the door was supposed to be leading to a lower level behind the plastic decor, where the hole lay waiting for them. 
“You ready, honey?” He said, holding out a purple putter they’d chosen at the start of the course, and she smiled genuinely at him. She had been telling somewhat of a lie when she’d been so unenthusiastic in the bathroom, though she thought telling the women just how much fun she was having being married to Spencer might just rub salt in the wound considering they were bored stiff sat in the bathroom.
That and she wanted to keep whatever it was they were feeling theirs and only theirs for just a little bit longer. 
“Ready, my love,” She sang in response and let him go first. He had to lean over a fair bit seeing as he was so tall he made everything on the course look particularly miniature, including the putter that seemed dwarfed by his height. Taking a quick look at the hill, no doubt calculating the angle and force he would need to hit it with, he gave the little, pink golf ball a generous tap and it raced up the slope, straight into the tunnel. They heard it knocking around a little in the chamber, before it came careering out the other end and rolled no closer than a yard away from the hole. 
Bugsy looked at him with wide eyes, to which he pretended not to look almost arrogant with how easy he’d made it seem, only when he looked back at her with a shit eating grin, she knew exactly how pleased with himself he was. 
“I bet it’s not that difficult, it’s all just a matter of force and drag and whatnot, right?” She said, strolling up to place her lilac ball on the inky dot marking the start. 
“Totally, although this is where, I don’t know, say a degree in Engineering would come in useful, I bet,” Spencer chimed in, and she didn’t need to look at him to know he had that smirk on his face. 
“Mr Reid, get ready to eat your words,” She replied over her shoulder, smacking the ball hard enough it flew up the slope, bouncing off the wall of the windmill and racing all the way back down the hill, rolling right back to where they stood, Spencer hiding a laugh behind his hand. She gaped, her face hot with annoyance, “Wait, wait! That was a practice run, I get another go,”
“Practice run, I see,” Spencer said with a chuckle, shoving his hands in his pockets, and watching her scramble to set the ball back on the marker, “So out of interest, how many of these practice runs are you getting,”
“Just the one,” She said, hitting the plastic globe again, though this time it barely made it half way up the incline before it rolled right back down again, “Two, I get two. This one’s the real one, starting now,” 
“The real one? So this one’s really the one that counts, right?” He teased, and she glared at him over her shoulder. He stepped closer to her, a look of the cat that got the cream smeared all across his face as he took a stance behind her, wrapping his arms around hers with the oldest trick in the book, “Why don’t you let your dearest husband help you out, huh?” 
“I have a masters and half a degree in medicine, I think I know what I’m doing,” She hummed, though the feeling of his hands resting over hers soone quietened down whatever fire was stoked in her belly from losing their game. Spencer was so close she could feel him breathing down her neck, feel his chest on her shoulder blades, and worst and most heinous of all, feel his crotch pressing against her tailbone. 
“Alright, alright. Just humour me,” He murmured, a new found confidence in him that he only seemed to get whenever they were playing the part of being other people. He gave her a salacious lick of his lips, smiling at her with a pink parted mouth, his eyes dark in this light like he knew what she was thinking as well, and he couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty when he flirted with her a little. He’d always thought that when she was stunned into that quiet tone, the mousy look she got on her face was rather cute. 
His hands engulfed hers with a mesh of pornographic veins and sadistically handsome knuckles, his mouth at her ear as they lined up the shot together. 
It was as if a murmuration of birds had flocked together in her chest, dipping and diving and creating all manner of shapes in her stomach as she felt it flip three or four times, his body so entirely pressed against hers she never wanted to move a muscle. She’d had the odd thought pop into her head about what sex with Spencer Reid might feel like, and yet all she could think about in the haze of the putter and fake grass beneath their feet was how delicious he felt pressing into her like that. 
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as she looked forward again, and she could have sworn she held back a moan when he breathed out down her spine. 
“Hotch has eyes on a guy at the bar watching us,” He whispered, her back straightening as she was reminded with a slap to the face they were still working the case. That as much fun as they were having, as happy as they were supposed to seem, they still had a very real job to do, and she felt stupid for thinking the flirty glances and erotic embrace was for anything more than to sell the married couple act. 
But Bugsy was nothing if not committed to her job. So instead of worrying if Spencer had felt anything real in the last hour or so, she decided to double down and give their UnSub a real show. 
Sticking her ass out so she brushed against Spencer’s crotch more, she intertwined her fingers with his, and hit the dimpled sphere the direction he guided her; and sure enough it rolled straight into the tunnel with little qualms.
Spinning in his arms, the smile was nearly wiped off her face when she saw Spencer’s eyes had darkened to a rich espresso hue as he looked at her. But she hid it well, despite the fact she caught the way his pupils were blown wide, and simply leaned to kiss him smack dab on his cheek, a smirk on her face when she pulled away.
“I guess I just needed the correct motivation,” She said with a flirty undertone, and she revelled in the way his lips parted enough she saw the whites of his absurdly pretty teeth. 
“Remind me to not take you out to mini golf for our first date,” Spencer huffed, his ears red as a mushroom top as they both stepped over to where the hole was and she snickered, trying her best to ignore the wings hammering away at her ribcage when he said that. 
“Duly noted, Mr Reid,” She said, watching him lineup his next shot with a smirk, and she wondered just where exactly they would go on their first date. Her smile only got wider, a girlish glee to her eyes. “So, theoretically, where were you thinking of taking me?” 
“Theoretically,” He said, lining up his shot, the ball only a small tap away from the hole, his feet spreading a little wider so he could lean down to putt the pink sphere, “I was thinking of going to that book cafe out in Delaware, the one where they have a bunch of drinks inspired by different authors. We could play a game I used to with my mom, where we choose a book for each other we think the other would like,” He took the shot, his ball rolling into the cavity without much effort as she watched him meticulously, her entire body softening with his sentiment right down to her marrow, “And then I was going to say we build a sofa fort in the living room and watch whatever movie you like, maybe get some popcorn on the way home,” 
He looked up at her, and almost reeled back in surprise to see her looking at him with something so vastly emotional in her eyes, like he’d offered her a winning lottery ticket or a chance to go back in time in a flying police box, her expression a complete window into her soul because she’d never been too good at hiding how she felt when she was around him. 
Spencer opened his mouth to speak again, only for their earpieces to jump to life, Hotch’s voice out of breath as he reported down their ear. 
“We have the UnSub, we caught him trying to sneak into your car like we profiled.” He said, and she knew his brow was creased without even having to see his face, “We’re taking him in for questioning now, you kids wrap up and head to the station,”
Bugsy hummed in confirmation, fighting the disappointment that their show was over, and they’d have to go back to their usual act of pretending there wasn’t three little words hanging over both their heads, gnawing at the back of their brains. 
Clearing her throat, she set up her shot ready to finish their game, “Well, theoretically speaking, when you’re ready to ask me on that date, I’m there,”
He smiled to himself, perhaps ready to flirt with her just a little more before they went back to being Bugsy and Spence, not Mr and Mrs Reid, when she hit the golf ball just the tiniest bit too vigorously. It rolled straight past the hole, bouncing off the wall and heading further away from the end than when she’d started, and she groaned in frustration. 
“How are you so terrible at this-” Spencer burst out laughing as she stomped over to the lilac ball, lining up another shot with a grumpy expression. 
“Not another word, Lover boy,” 
2. The one with an old flame.
“I wonder what Hotch wants,” She mused, her head resting on the arm of the seat, her eyes shut for the duration of the flight. Rossi had called them into the office startlingly early for a Friday, the entire team sleepy eyed and annoyed as they’d strolled onto the sixth floor. 
Yet the minute that they’d heard Hotch needed them, they’d soon perked up in interest, seeing as it was Aaron’s only appointed week off to see Beth in New York, and they had quickly jumped in to help with whatever it was he needed. 
“Penelope’s still waiting for NYPD to send her the autopsy reports for the previous victims,” Rossi said, him, Strauss, JJ and Alex playing a few rounds of Shithead with a peeling deck of cards because for once they had no paperwork to be looking over while they travelled. Bugsy had laid on the couch, the one Spencer usually commandeered, except this time he let her take the comfy seat, instead letting her legs drape over his lap as he read from his book, another two sat next to him for when he finished that one. 
“He sounded panicked. DEA thinks we might have a bad batch of something making its way through the club scene causing the deaths,” Strauss added, putting down two sets of three on top of JJ’s ace, “Aaron’s brother just happened to have been caught in the crossfire,”
“Men are almost twice as likely to die from drug overdoses than women, just last year there were forty-one thousand, five hundred and two cases.” Spencer said without lifting his head from his pages, his thumb caressing over Bugsy’s ankle bone, “The fact that the majority of the victims are women suggests it’s more than likely is a date rape drug that has been laced since they tend to be targeted towards female victims more often than males.” 
“Ecstasy can be made in pill, powder or liquid form so it really wouldn’t be too difficult to slip it into someone’s drink,” The girl mused, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she attempted to catch up on another half hour of sleep, “Or to convince people the drug they’re taking willingly is safe,”
“Even regular users might not know they're being dosed until it's too late,” JJ agreed, setting down a seven on top of Rossi’s two fives. 
“What about the two victims who were clean, Linda Heying and Eric Sullivan’s family claimed they never touched the stuff,” Alex questioned, as Morgan looked over the list of victims that they had been able to track down, despite the majority of the information waiting for them at New York. 
“Either the victims are good at hiding the truth or the UnSub is killing for another reason,” David said with a sigh, as Strauss set down the six of clubs, “We should take a closer look, see how they’re connected,”
“Well for now, let the princess get her beauty sleep,” Bugsy said, snuggling into the throw pillow Spencer had passed her as they’d sat down, “I’m feeling weird today,”
His head ripped from his book at that, the rest of the team going back to playing their cards, his hand skirting up to her calf to stroke her leg gently, “You okay?” 
She huffed, “Yeah, Penelope said it's because my Mercury is in Retrograde or something, I don’t know. I just feel strange,” She grumbled, resting a hand over her stomach, “Probably just coming on my period early,”
He frowned, moving her legs off his lap and standing up. Before she could ask where he was going, he stepped to the opposite end of the couch, picking her head up gently by the crook of her neck and sitting back down, resting her back onto his lap. 
His fingers were in her hair before she could say anything, scratching gently at her scalp the way he knew she turned to putty for, and she smiled, swearing blind she’d be purring if she could. 
“We’ll get you some breakfast when we land,” He murmured, and she snuggled her cheek into his thigh, his slender fingers massaging her skin kindly. 
“Thankyou, Spence,” She whispered back, all but slurring her words as sleep caught right back up to her, and before long she was drooling on his black trousers, the sight of it making him smile sweetly to himself. 
And it was for a moment like that he wondered what exact feeling he was waiting for in the first place. 
“Any updates?” Bugsy asked, as they entered the New York Police Department and saw Hotch waiting for them, his arms crossed in a casual shirt and jeans, clearly having had no intention of working this week, “How’s your brother?”
“A little shaken but then he never exactly made the best choices in life,” Hotch huffed, putting a hand on her back as she leaned in to give him a small hug because he seemed particularly stressed, “Emily always said you were bad, I’d take you over him any day,”
“Thanks,” She murmured into his shoulder, with a frown, “I think?”
He smiled, amused the way she had a knack for, though the worry in his mahogany eyes didn’t budge, and Spencer was all but a step behind her as the team filed into the building. 
“You guys have coffee?” Spencer asked, his eyes subconsciously trailing after Bugsy as she moved to talk to one of the detectives, and Hotch nodded, pointing him over to the small kitchenette at the back of the precinct. 
“Over there, I’ll get you guys set up with the lab reports now that you’re here. Autopsies came back for Linda and Eric,” Hotch said, and Spencer murmured in agreement, heading straight for the instant coffee and creamer, worrying about the girl who was already nose deep in a file by the time the machine had poured the first cup. 
He wondered whether there were any pharmacies nearby for anti-sickness tablets, or if she needed a heavy dose of water and sleep instead of the caffeine goodness he was whipping up for her, but then he knew she’d rather shrivell into a ball in the precinct bathroom than ask for a day off, would rather suffer in proud silence than make herself look weak. 
Bugsy remembered it happening in choppy intervals. One minute she was heading up the steps towards where Spencer stood patiently by the coffee machine, something already popping up as a point of interest in her overworked brain. Her head was down, muttering to herself the points of the victimology that conflicted with one another, when she felt herself slam right into a solid body, and she jumped back, steadying herself with an embarrassed expression. 
“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was-” Her eyes snapped up to see a messy blonde sweep of hair, wide blue eyes she’d known ten years ago and a thick beard that happened to be the only thing new about him. Her gaze locked onto him, and she felt a fury she’d not thought about in over a decade rile up inside her, “Sean?” 
“Bugsy,” He breathed, the horror sweeping over his expression, a hand shooting up to slick his hair back nervously, “What are you- how are you-” 
She shoved him back with two firm hands, tossing the file onto the table beside her, and shoving at his chest again, his own hands coming up to defend himself lightly even though his expression read nothing but guilt. 
“Woah, woah, let’s just talk about this, I was just a dumb kid-”
“You left me, Sean. You left me in a foreign country alone with no boarding pass, no cell phone,” She snarled, and the sound of her tone rising turned a few heads, Spencer all but ditching the spoon into the sink when he saw her going nose to nose with some guy who looked purely terrified, “Your dumbass friends spent all my money on hookers, I’d still be in Italy if it wasn’t for the fact you graciously decided not to steal my bank card-” 
She shoved him again in between her growls, and it wasn’t until two hands came up to stop her did she realise Derek and Spencer had all but appeared behind her, the former’s arms wrapping around her waist to draw her back. 
“Woah, woah, talk to me, pretty girl. What’s with the aggression?” Derek asked, his eyes wide with concern as he looked between the youngest agent and their suspect. It seemed her volume had reached the other side of the room where Hotch had been talking with Strauss and Alex, and Spencer could practically see the steam coming out his ears as he whipped around to their trio. 
He could already hear the lecture coming, and the thought of it made him gulp.
“This is Sean,” She spat, and Derek and Spencer’s head snapped to the blonde man who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, “You know, the asshole that ditched me on another continent and stole my money,”
“I didn’t mean to steal your money, I thought you had it in your purse, I-I didn’t think to check before we left the hotel room,” He tried to interject, though the girl's glare intensified, unaware her boss's shoes were now thundering across the steps. 
“Where you left me to miss the flight I paid for, you inconsiderate prick-”
“You told me to leave you alone! You said you were sick of us waking you up-”
“I meant playing your music too loud, dumbass-”
“Well sorry, last time I checked I’m not a mind reader, Bugsy-”
“What in God’s name is going on here?” Hotch’s voice was a crack of lightning through the precinct, and the two of them shut up immediately, like two school children caught squabbling in the halls, Sean turning to his older brother with an exasperated expression. 
“Aaron, I swear, I don’t know what she’s doing here,” Sean pleaded, and Derek, Spencer and Bugsy turned to their boss in unison with bewildered faces. Hotch looked back at them, his own anger dissolving into utter, raw confusion. 
“Do you two know each other?” Hotch, Aaron, asked the girl in the middle, the other men all but positioned as bodyguards in the midst of their little spat, and he saw her cheeks hot with anger deflating as she drew a breath to answer. 
“Unfortunately,” She spat, scrutinising the familiar tone Sean had used when he’d said Aaron’s name, “Do you two know each other?” 
“He’s my brother,” The Hotchner’s replied in unison, their tone almost identical and she felt stupid for not seeing it sooner.
Bugsy felt her face drop, her eyes scanning between them for any signs of a lie, except all she found were the tiny details of their face that seemed to half match. Like their cheekbones, and the crease between their brows, the shape of their lips. 
Her face blanked, gobsmacked silence passing between the five of them as she digested exactly what that statement ment. 
Sean, her Sean, the Sean she’d been sleeping with on and off for six months straight, who used to make her tea way too milky and without sugar the way she hated it, but would bring it to her in bed and stroke her back when they were finished, the Sean who once tried to ask her to be his girlfriend when he was stoned and she’d laughed at him and snatched the blunt away, told him to get a hold of himself because that was the exact opposite of how friends with benefits worked. 
Sean, who she had trusted to keep her safe, who’d ditched her naked in a hotel room in a foreign country and made her feel stupid for ever believing a word a man said.  
She stuttered for a response, a wide eyes mix of terror and confusion and repulsion washing over her in stages. 
“I need-” She swallowed thickly, her mouth drier than sandpaper, gently pushing Derek’s arm from around her waist, “I think I need a walk- a walk sounds good- yeah-”
Rossi paced over to the five of them, his phone clutched tightly in his hands. He almost paused at the wall of awkward tension around the group, each participant seeming stuck for the right thing to say, the entire situation so bizarre that Spencer debated faking a migraine to get him and her out of the room for some air. 
“Hotch,” Both of the men turned to look at him, and the sight of it made Bugsy shudder, feeling almost completely out of her own body at the thought of her nude body on top of Sean’s because now all she could see was Aaron in his place, “Six new bodies found in a nightclub-”
“I’ll go!” She jumped, all but bolting past the men, trying her hardest not to touch either of them because her skin crawled with a sickening uncanny valley looking between the brothers, “I’ll go inspect the crime scene,” 
And no one stopped her, because they’d seen her be all manner of strange before, but never quite like that. Aaron nodded his head to Morgan, and the man took it as a sign to follow her. He quickly obeyed, hot on the girl's heels as she kept her head down with an odd, freaked out expression on her face like she was about to throw up and scream at the same time. 
Which left Sean alone as Spencer and Aaron whirled around on him, similar looks of annoyance on their face as the younger agent looked the man head to toe. 
He was handsome, handsome in a rugged way like he was used to bar fights and late nights and drinking until three am with pretty ladies like her. He was built wide like Aaron, his shoulders broad and muscles stocky, a few tattoos dotted around his arms that only added to his rough looking appeal, and Spencer wondered if she’d always liked the bad boys, wondered if he was an outlier in her dating history. 
Except they weren’t dating, not yet at least. 
“So I take it she’s one of your agents,” Sean said, wringing his hands together in anxiety as the two taller men looked down at him, equally unimpressed.
Though, Spencer hated to admit, his was more green faced jealousy than anything else. 
“Agent Prentiss is one of the best,” Reid corrected, his tone cold and stern, and Sean visibly shrunk in on himself, looking to his big brother for help, only he found Aaron was just as annoyed, glaring down at him. 
“You have some more explaining to do, Sean,” His brother snapped, and the two men diverted him into one of the interrogation rooms, Spencer’s jaw clenched so hard he felt his temples ache, “Or next time I’m not stopping her from handing your ass to you, and believe me when I say you’ll wish you’d told me sooner,”
Sean gulped, all too aware of the way eighteen year old Bugsy had never backed down from a fight, when men twice her age shoved her in clubs or girls bitched at her for dancing too close to their boyfriends. He didn’t imagine she was any different at twenty eight, except this time she was trained and licensed to handle a gun. 
The door slammed behind them, and Aaron pushed his little brother into the seat with a firm hand, the sight of his unit chief just as protective over her as he was making Spencer bite back glee. The image of Bugsy laying into the guy was burned into his memory, eidetic or not, and it seemed to be the only thing that stopped him blowing his top as Sean opened his mouth to explain what had happened between him and the younger Prentiss woman. 
“What did you do, Thane?” Sean’s voice crackled over the feed, the wire on his chest brushing against his shirt as he paced in the wine cellar. Aaron, Morgan, Spencer and Bugsy sat in the van, listening to the conversation through shared headphones, Spencer and Bugsy’s heads pressed together as they followed the voices as best as they could, waiting for a confession or anything they could tie to the victims' gory deaths. 
“I spiked the wine, you idiot,” Sean’s boss, Thane, snapped, his breathing laboured and Bugsy took a shot in the dark to say he was pacing, worrying now that there was concrete evidence linking his date rape drug to the deaths of atleast nine people so far, “Oh, God. Oh, god, Jim is going to kill me.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Sean seethed, his patience wearing thin as the man all but confessed to killing his girlfriend. 
“For a laugh, I thought it was X. Girl’s love that crap,” Thane replied, his voice louder as Sean stepped closer to him, and she exchanged a look with Aaron.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t X, was it?” The younger Hotchner barked, and she quickly let go of the headphones to grab a kevlar and her gun. 
“He’s going off track, Aaron, he’d not going to keep his cool much longer,” She said, and Spencer’s eyes trailed up to her face, her brow furrowed as Aaron moved to slip his own bulletproof over his head, adjusting the straps at his side. 
“Tell SWAT to stand by, we’re going in to support, but we may need back up,” Aaron ordered, unholstering his gun and switching the trigger off safety, “You two stay here and see if Thane says any more about the wine,”
She drew her gun to her side just as he did, and Spencer made a move to stop her, even just to check where her head was at because he knew she had this tendency of throwing herself in harms way and asking questions later. He selfishly worried what that upset look in her eyes meant, like she loathed that Sean was in danger as much as she loathed him. 
But he wasn’t quite fast enough, because by the time he’d reached a hand out for hers to ask if she was feeling alright, she had slid the door to the van open, hopping out onto the tarmac as Aaron shadowed her. 
And something ugly and envious reared its head in Spencer’s gut as the doors slammed, so much so that his jaw feathered and he took a deep breath out, his lips pressing into a thin line.
The two agents moved as one, their footsteps pounding over the linoleum floor of the night club. They swept to the back of the building, where the door to the stock room was, and it became apparent almost immediately from the grunting and shuffling the other side of the door that the two men were much closer to brawling than they’d guessed. 
“FBI, drop your weapon!” Bugsy called, bracing herself as she felt Aaron’s domineering figure at her shoulder. She raised her leg to kick the door in, and it swung on its hinges, smacking into the rack of beer. They caught the two men in the middle of a fist fight, Sean with a split lip, Thane with a gash on his forehead, his head locked under the younger man’s arm with a deathly grip.
She holstered her gun, seeing that neither of them were carrying, and moved forward to break the two of them up.
“Alright, Sean- Sean, that’s enough,” She scolded, her fingers prying his muscled arm off his boss’s trachea, and Sean took a second to realise it was disappointment in her face, not the white hot anger it had been not even a few hours before, before he let the man go, some colour returning to his bluing lips.
“He killed Linda,” The blonde Hotchner said softly, and something wavered in her eyes, something close to pity, and she nodded at him while biting her cheek hard. Aaron holstered his gun, surging forward to grab Thane with rough hands as he fought against the taller man’s grip. “She was sober, she’d gotten clean and he killed her,” 
“I know,” Bugsy said lamentingly, and against her better judgement she patted his shoulder kindly, more kindly than he probably deserved, and the thought of it made Sean’s baby blue eyes turn away in sorrow. 
Before she could say anything else, Thane wretched his hand out of Hotch’s grip, grabbing for the sharp box cutter and lunging right for Bugsy where she turned away from him. 
Sean’s expression morphed into fear for a moment, grabbing for her to yank her out of reach, but it was too late. She felt the slash across the back of her arm, where her kevlar couldn’t cover up, and she yawped in pain the way a dog sounds when its tail gets crushed. Turning towards the source of the danger, Sean’s hand weaved around her waist to tug her backwards as Aaron scrambled to grab the suspect. 
Thane’s hand gripped the blade and slashed down again, across her cheek and only inches away from her eye, her hands too late to grab his wrists to stop his advances. By the time he drew back to swipe for her again Aaron had already tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the wine soaked floor and fumbling for his cuffs. 
“We have an agent injured and needing medical, repeat, medical unit required on scene,” Spencer was out of his seat before Hotch could even finish his sentence, forgoing his own vest as he darted from the van, his heart racing at the sound of the scuffle echoing through Sean’s wire, and he felt his chest seizing at just what kind of a state she’d be in when he saw her. 
She was the only other agent on the scene. That call had to be made for her, the voice in his gut told him, but the twisted part of him hoped that it was someone else, anyone else, that had gotten hurt, because he might just throw a punch of his own at Thane or Sean or maybe even both of them if she had so much as a single hair misplaced. 
Spencer had only just about reached the bar area when the four of them emerged from the stock room, Thane in cuffs, looking rattled and aggravated. Spencer let himself take a long, hard look at the man with a glare that soon made him cower away, though he found little luck elsewhere as Hotch’s hands gripped him so tight Spencer thought he might be trying to strangle him through his arms. 
But that wasn’t who he was looking for. And there, trailing behind his unit chief sheepishly, with Sean’s hand on her back as he watched her carefully, his eyes worriedly darting over her skin when he saw how fast the blood was pouring from the laceration on the apple of her cheek, was Bugsy. Her expression was shaken, no doubt from nearly having her corneas slashed open had Sean not pulled her away even a second earlier, and she seemed in some sort of a daze, until she spotted the sweater vest she’d shoved in the wash about a hundred times, and two supple hands reached for her shoulders, snapping her attention out of her head. 
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, all but ignoring Sean as the man went to flag down medical, his own appearance dishevelled and stunned, and it irked Spencer something childish when her head snapped to the blonde, watching him head for the paramedics. 
“I’m okay, Spence, it’s just a superficial wound,” She said as a reflex, meeting his eyes finally. But she simpered when she saw just how terrified he seemed, a warm palm raising to cup his face affectionately, “He just nicked the skin, that’s all. It’s not as bad as it looks,” 
Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Her face stung like a bitch, but the feeling of her cheek dribbling with the ichor was worse than the actual pain, and made her feel queasy more than anything. 
He went to say something else, or perhaps even gently caress the clean side of her face with his own loving gesture, but he was quickly interrupted by the medical team all but grabbing Bugsy out of his grip and assessing her themselves. 
“It’s probably best if you come take a seat, Agent Prentiss,” The woman said, pointing to where Sean sat on the back of the ambulance getting his nose checked over, “We’ll be over with some stitches and glue,” 
And Spencer made a move to follow the two of them, only to be stopped by Hotch, who called his name with that direct tone he took when he was worried.
“Reid, I need you and Morgan to interview Thane about where he got the drugs he used to spike the wine,” Aaron ordered, even though he seemed to watch the girl go just as bothered as the younger agent, and Spencer seemed conflicted between rebelling against his boss’s instructions or keeping to his track record of following them to a tea. 
He paused for a second, his gaze flicking to the girl who sat with her old flame, Sean’s eyes roving over her head to toe worriedly, and he looked back to Aaron, “But-”
“Now, Reid. She’s going to be fine.” 
And Spencer was forced to listen, even if his face burned with annoyance at the sight of the man watching her so tentatively. 
“Would you quit fidgeting, the medic said it was a surface wound,” Bugsy snipped, feeling the ocean hues burning a hole into the side of her head. She dusted her knees off of invisible dirt, braving a look up at her ex-fling where she was met with a wall of guilt.
And it was like for a split second she remembered all the mornings she’d wake up to him twirling the tips of her hair between his fingers, or when he’d shake his head whenever he���d look over her shoulder at her lab reports she’d be writing and make a passing comment on how a hot girl like her could have brains and looks. 
Or how he could be kind to her, genuinely sweet when he wanted to be, when they toed a weird line between friends with benefits and something a little more, because at his core she knew he was a good guy, he was just incredibly dumb for an eighteen year old. 
“Listen, Bug,” Sean sighed, looking down at the ground where they were perched on the back on the ambulance, Bugsy’s face stitched up so tight she hoped it wouldn’t scar very deeply, “I really am sorry for how I treated you,” 
His voice shook with something remorseful, and she let her eyes cast over his face that had grown even more handsome in the ten years since she saw him. With the good memories came the bad ones in equal measure, and the arguments over stupid shit like leaving cupboard doors open and playing music late at night and the time he forgot to feed her gerbil for two days when she was out of town washed back to shore from the deepest crevices of her mind. 
She’d been with men after him, had flings and meaningless kisses with boys who’d treated her much less kindly than he had. And when she thought about it, the anger and resentment she’d felt when she thought about those few days she spent lost in Italy stemmed from the fact she’d been forced to confront what she’d always feared since she was little. 
That Bugsy was alone in the world, forgettable, someone you could leave behind and sleep soundly. 
But when she thought of that now, the first face she pictured was Spencer, and how he would tell her to knock it off if she ever said that out loud, because he would never leave her, in a foreign country or even at a gas station if she needed to get fuel. He always walked up to the pump with her because he knew exactly how many women got kidnapped in places like that every year, he'd told her so already. 
And she knew the person she was when she could have loved Sean, the person who was reminded just how easy it was to leave her behind, was gone. In its place was the girl who Spencer loved like it was as easy as breathing. And the thought of it made her feel just that little bit less bitter towards the blonde man who fiddled with his rough, bloodied hands. 
“I was a dumb kid, I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of,” He swallowed heavily, his frown looking strikingly similar to Aaron's as he did, but she would never remind him, “But I did always wonder whether I’d see your name in the news curing some disease I could never pronounce or being the first person to learn like every single language there is,” He smiled sadly, and the old her knew him just well enough to know he was being honest, because his nose turned red whenever he lied. 
The thought of it made her lips curve up, despite how annoyed she’d been to see him again, and there was something bashful about the way the slid a hand into his to give it a quick squeeze.
“We were eighteen, Sean. No one has themselves figured out at eighteen,” She said earnestly, her head dipping to meet his ashamed gaze.
He shook his head, “You deserved so much better than I could ever give you, we both knew that,” He pulled his hand away, and her expression contorted into confusion, “It’s probably why you're with that doctor, right? Aaron said he’s like a whizz kid,”
“He’s not-We’re-” She sighed, running a hand over where the EMTs had stitched the gash on the back of her arm, “It’s complicated,”
“Complicated like we were complicated?” He asked, her fingertip tracing every single nook where they had looped the suture through her skin. 
She smiled to herself and looked over at him, something weighty like closure passing between the two of him as he watched her take his tired face in, knowing they were nothing more than just passing ships in the night now. 
“You meant something to me once, Sean, no matter how much we drove each other up the wall,” She snickered, and something like an exhausted chuckle matched her, “But it’s different with him. It’s like everything I do means something to the world when I’m with him, you know?” 
Sean took in the wistful look in her eyes, the girl he’d known who had only gotten stronger, scrappier, wittier with age, and he thought he’d be lucky to ever get someone like her again.
“I hope I do,” He said, and she knocked her shoulder into his to dispel the bad memories of two teenagers figuring out what feelings and kisses and sex meant in the messiest of ways. 
“Do me a favour?” Sean hummed at her, and she looked surprisingly like herself again when she smiled at him wryly, “Call Aaron more. It’s difficult being the only disappointment child in his life,” 
Sean barked a laugh at her words, and she smiled into her lap. Who’d have thought closure would be so healing. 
She felt eyes on her even as she tried to nap on the jet, having returned back to their original position on the couch, her head on Spencer’s lap. She had a sixth sense to who it would be, the Spider Sense they’d been calling it despite the fact Spencer tried to tell her it was mere intuition, she glanced up to where something melancholic swirled inside his forest gaze, already watching over her despite his book being open in his lap. 
She hadn’t even opened her mouth to speak before his obscenely large hand had sneaked under her jawline, tilting her face up so he could take a better look at the messy cut. 
“Have they given you anything for the pain?” Spencer said quietly, because the other’s were already trying to sleep, and she blanked for a moment, before her hand came up to snake around his wrist gently. 
“They gave me Naproxen for two days. Spence, I’m fine, really,” 
His teeth ground together, his other hand placing his book down beside him and moving to smooth the back of her hair, the sealed wound staring daggers at him as his eyes darted over the rest of her face, just to be sure they hadn’t missed anything. 
He nodded to himself, as if to conclude his consultation and his thumb stroked down the curve of her jaw, his head whipping up to quickly make sure no one else was watching.
“What, uh,” Spencer cleared his throat nervously, her expectant eyes looking up at him, “What were you and Sean talking about?”
Her brow quirked in confusion, and it wasn’t until she felt his delicate strokes hesitate that she realised he seemed on edge, “Why?”
“N-No reason, I just was wondering, you looked like you were-” He coughed again, even though there was nothing tickling his windpipe, nothing except embarrassment, because he’d never thought he’d be the envious type. 
He braved a look at her again, worried she would be annoyed with his crass and intrusive questions, only to see her smiling at him wickedly. 
“We were what?” She asked, and Spencer went so quiet he could have heard a mouse knitting if he tried, his cheeks flushing with raspberry red heat, “Are you jealous, Spencer?” 
He shook his head fast, unable to formulate anything that wasn’t a stammer, and she sat up in her seat, throwing her legs onto the ground so she could scooch up into his side. 
“Because if you were, you know I’d find that wildly attractive right?” She murmured, his cheeks burning an even hotter shade, the sight of it all but a bone to a hound to Bugsy who loved teasing him. She snickered, leaning in close to his vermillion ear, and leaving a tiny kiss on his clenched jaw, “Don’t worry, Wonder Boy. He knows I’m all yours,” 
3. The one with the day of the dead.
“Thankyou, thankyou, my helpful little mice,” Penelope chirped as the three of them stepped into her apartment, their arms filled with shopping bags, “Set them down on the counter, I’ll unpack them later,” 
“Wow,” Bugsy gawped at the altar stood in the corner of the woman’s living room, an assortment of sweets and tissue paper flowers decorating the layers, “Oh it’s so pretty, they’re going to love it. We spent a Summer in Mexico when Mom was having talks with their President, but we moved out before October rolled around so I never got to see a Día de los Muertos,” 
Penny smiled, though she quickly looked around the rest of her apartment that had yet to be decorated, “There’s still a lot to do before the party next week and,” She huffed, the bags taking up the entirety of her kitchen table as Bugsy frowned at her, “I’m scared. I’ve never had the whole team here before,” 
“Relax, Pen, I can help you set up,” The younger woman reassured, helping unload the groceries that needed to go in the fridge as Spencer helped her carry the larger items. 
Penelope perked up watching her guests move towards the cooler, a devilish smirk twitching at her lips, “Hey, while you guys are there, can you see if I have enough hot sauce for the party?”
“Sure,” They replied in synchrony, Bugsy putting the milk and soda in the side drawers as Spencer shelved away some of the meat. They both looked at the top row, where some kind of jalapeno salsa was resting next to a jar of fake eyeballs, and the flicked a casual glance at the woman who was pouring vials of red viscous liquid made to look like blood down her cheeks for a Penelope version of a practical joke.
Bugsy blinked once, not quite surprised as she would have thought seeing Penelope attempting to scare them with something they’d seen a thousand times over for real. 
“Now, are the eyeballs marinating in anything spicy or is it just like a pickled onion type of thing because all you seem to have is the jalapeno sauce,” She said, and Penelope deflated at her bored tone, looking at the two agents in discontent. 
“You guys didn’t even flinch,” She said sadly, her dark eyes flicking between them, “My poor babies, what has the world done to you?” 
Bugsy smiled, shutting the fridge door and handing the bubbly woman a leaf of tissue paper. 
“JJ’s right, I told her I wanted to go scary this Halloween and she just laughed at me, and said that I don’t have a scary side,” Penelope whined, and Bugsy giggled. 
“Sorry, babygirl, you wouldn’t be Penelope Garcia if you were capable of scary,” She teased, waltzing around the kitchen to put away the rest of the shopping, even as the woman tried to shoo her away from helping, “I’ve seen puppies scarier than you, Pen,” 
“If it helps, you probably do,” Spencer interjected, helping Bugsy shelve something on one of the higher cabinets, his long arms weaselling over her own as he reached past her, “The building blocks of the human personality are complex, varied and multi-faceted. It’s essential to one’s mental health to want to express these hidden personalities and it’s just a fact of nature that everybody has one,”
“Everybody?” Penelope asked, ignoring the way the two of them bumbled around her kitchen, handing things between one another the way she imagined them putting away the groceries in their own kitchen, like they worked just as well in the home as they did in the field. Dare she say it, like a couple who had been married and knew each other's routines for years. “Even the two of you?” 
“Oh, absolutely, yeah,” Spencer agreed, and Bugsy flicked a smirk up at him as Pen turned to her expectantly.
"I mean, you can't tell me Bitch-Slapping our boss or fist fighting with my sister was exactly usual behaviour for me," She pointed out, and the two of them nodded in agreement, although they wouldn't have exactly called it out of character for her.
“Okay, okay, I want to see it. I want to see Dr Spencer Reid’s hidden personality,” Penelope said, a smile growing as thick and fast as a weed when he seemed thrown off by her request, and it only took one look at the younger Prentiss to know she wanted front row just as badly. 
“R-right here? Like right now you want to see it?” He stammered, all too aware of Bugsy’s amused lashes batting up at him, the innocent expression she knew made it difficult for him to say no to, and he wondered for a second if she understood the exact amount of control she had over him when she wanted to. 
“I wanna see this hidden personality, pretty boy,” She smiled with her teeth, and he felt his hands turn jittery in embarrassment. 
“Okay, alright,” Spencer shook his arms out, clearing his throat with a growling sort of husk that made her raise her brows, and in a single blink he’d locked stern eyes with her, pointing to her with a completely un-Spencer-like stance; completely rose to his full height, confident and domineering, “I know what you’re thinking,”
She really hoped he didn’t. Because what she was really thinking was just how hot he sounded with that deep sort of timbre, that cocksure attitude. 
“You’re thinking ‘Did that guy just fire five shots or did that guy just fire six shots?’” He went on, his tone deadly serious, as her lips parted in surprise, and what had started out as a game turned into some wildly lewd thoughts fast, “You’re going to have to ask yourself a question; Do you feel lucky, pun-k,”
She swallowed haughtily, as he squeezed his eyes shut and when he looked at her again he was entirely puppy like the way he usually looked, none the wiser to the way her stomach had coiled in want. 
“That was Clint Eastwood from Dirty Harry,” He explained, looking to Penelope because he had no idea what that strange look on Bugsy’s face was, only to see his techy friend just as in awe, “I mean I know it’s not as effective as my dominant personality, but I really think it’s there-”
Penelope’s phone sprung to life with a call from Hotch and she quickly spluttered an excuse that they needed to leave right away, grabbing for her keys and heading for the door. 
Spencer made a move to follow her, only to feel a hand grab his shirt and turn him right back around, Bugsy still staring at him with that look in her eye, like she’d had too much caffeine or been told there was a million dollars cash waiting for them at home.
“Is everything okay-”
“Is Clint Eastwood strictly a party trick or would I be able to have him on request, maybe?” She said, her hands oddly tight as they grabbed at his soft stomach, and it was like he heard the click in his brain when he realised what she meant. 
“R-request, I guess,” He stumbled for composure, finding his footing when he felt her palms were clammy, “You got a thing for cops?” 
“Just the one, I guess,” She said with a clenched jaw, and he laughed though it sounded more like a choke, as she darted right behind Penelope to avoid suspicion. 
By the time the party rolled around, Penelope had decked her apartment out to the nines, marigolds and tissue garlands and lights and food of all sorts spread out across the altar, a mix of alcohol and juices available in pitchers, because Penelope was nothing if not a people pleaser. 
The doorbell rang right as Alex and Bugsy poured themselves some margarita, complete with the eyeball ice cubes ofcourse, and Penelope fussed in her beautiful dress, muttering under her breath the way she did when she was nervous. 
“What, what, what,” She murmured, her blonde curls bouncing with her steps as she reached for the door, “I thought you said you couldn’t come!” 
Bugsy’s head whipped to the door, Aaron looking much more casual than they were used to seeing him as he entered the decorated home, his colleagues all dressed smartly and in some shade of black. 
“Jack got a last minute sleepover invitation so I hope it’s okay,” He said, a bottle of rosé in his hand he’d brought as a contribution. 
“Ofcourse, ofcourse,” Penelope sang, leading him over to the altar where everyone stood with their offerings, sipping on their glasses of liquor, “Okay, everybody, I guess it’s time to start, here you go sir,”
She handed him a freshly poured glass of wine, chilled courtesy of the eyeball, and Aaron thanked her kindly, taking a generous sip to catch up with the others. 
“I want to thank everybody for doing this with me, and our altar’s burning, and I just feel so blessed to have you all here,” Penelope started with a grateful smile on her painted lips, a handful of old photos between her fingertips, “I will start, um, this is my mom and dad,” She said, nostalgia idling her tone as she gently placed down a worn picture of a teen couple holding a beautiful, blonde girl, eyes bigger than moons and full of curiosity, just how Bugsy would have imagined Penny as a baby, “I miss them. And this is my cat, Simba with his usual bowl of soda pop. He was a weird cat,”  
The team chuckled, looking at the enormous ginger Tom that lapped at the bubbly liquid. Bugsy took a sip of her drink as JJ took a step forward with a smile, her own photo in hand. 
“This is my sister, Roselyn. Ros.” JJ said, placing down a photo of a fifteen year old with identical eyes and nose to her, sitting it next to a small statue of the eiffel tower, “She always dreamed she’d live is Paris so um,” She swallowed, looking at her sister laying in the grass of their childhood home, something girlish in her gaze, “It didn’t happen but I thought this would bring her some happiness,”
They took it in turns bringing their offerings and pictures: David bringing some Cubs tickets for a soldier he had lost in Vietnam, Alex bringing a crossword for her mother, Spencer sliding down a picture of Maeve silently, alongside a cut out picture of Nikola Tesla, Morgan bringing his father, Hitch putting down the picture of Haley he kept in his wallet. 
Which left them all to turn to the youngest agent, who seemed flustered.
“So, I fortunately have not lost anyone properly thus far, so bare with me here guys,” She said fishing out an old scrapbook photo of her as a seven year old, a small orange snake wrapped around the length of her arm, twenty two year old Emily standing right behind her, the pair of them with beaming smiles as the snake seemingly poked its tongue out for the camera. 
Penelope clutched her chest in horror, “Is that a-”
“This is Tigger, the corn snake Emily gave to me when she left home,” She explained, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the million dollar grin she had in the photo, three of her front teeth missing sweetly, “I had him until I was about twelve before he kicked the serpent bucket, but he was cute for a slithery little guy,” 
She drew another photo, an ultrasound showing two tiny embryos and she put it beside the picture of Tigger, and the group drew a shared breath. 
“Bug, I never knew you were…” Spencer started, his stomach flipping when he saw the outline of the foetuses, only for the girl’s eyes to widen. 
“No! No, it’s not like that, this is um,” She cleared her throat awkwardly, scratching the back of her hand with a guilty look, “This is the twin I absorbed in the womb,” She said, and she felt the rest of her team gawking at her without having to look, “I guess I’d like to say, uh, I’m sorry pal. It was nice while it lasted, I hope you can forgive me,” 
“You’re being serious?” Morgan asked, gawping at the girl, right as Hotch broke out into disbelieving snickers, probably spurred on by the wine, and Alex was quick to join him, her hand over her mouth.
Bugsy turned to him with a ‘duh’ kind of look on her face, “Oh, 100% serious, yeah,” 
“Is that why you’re a little…” Rossi started, only he found himself stuck for words when she looked at him betrayed. 
“A little, what?” She asked, looking to JJ who cracked into a chuckle, putting her head in her palm.
“What he means is you have a big personality,” Alex said, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulder and giving her a motherly squeeze, hoping they hadn’t offended her, “And we wouldn’t change it for the world,”
“I should hope so, she got a double helping.” Morgan cackled, and Bugsy smacked his arm with a smile. 
“Every time I think I know everything about you, you come out with something new,” Penelope said, her own snickering laugh meeting the girl’s ears, “You’re like Jason Bourne,” 
“God help us if there had been two of you, Prentiss,” David added, patting the girl on the head as they laughed, and Penelope raised a toast to their altar, the rest of the team doing the same before they sipped out their cups and allowed themselves to enjoy the rest of the party. 
“Oh, I have something for you!” Bugsy said, springing to her feet and almost tripping over Sergio who had curled up by her legs. 
She’d cut herself off after her third, and by the time midnight rolled around she’d almost completely sobered up enough to the point her and Alex had been playing hangman except with only Old English words.
Her and Spencer had gotten home twenty minutes later, the two of them exhausted from an evening well spent, the melancholy happiness in the room draining them to the point Bugsy had immediately changed into her pyjamas when she got into the house.
Her pyjamas being Spencer’s boxers and one of his shirts since he’d inadvertently been hiding all of the underwear-top combinations she’d gotten from other flings that she’d brought when she moved into his. 
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” He said earnestly, and she simply waved his humble attitude off, the two of them sat on the sofa in their nightwear, flicking through the late night TV. 
He smiled, watching her bustle into her room and root around her closet, before she emerged with a terracotta coloured pot of lilac flowers, whirling on her heel to head for him. 
“What’s this?” Spencer asked, standing to meet her and Bugsy simpered, because she’d felt silly for buying them in the first place. Perhaps it was some left over guilt considering she’d spent the majority of Maeve’s existence in her life hating the girl, or atleast hating what she had that Bugsy thought she could never be privy to. Perhaps it was because all things considered she wanted Spencer to know that it was okay for him to mourn, because she’d never force him to hurry up his process when he’d been there for every second of hers. 
She handed him the potted plant, the small purple petals in the shape of half moons lighting up at him, and his mind raced as to what species they were since he’d certainly never seen them around the East Coast before.
“Scaevola aemula,” She said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt around her waist as she spoke because his eyes were unnervingly doe-like when he looked at her in the dark lamp light, “It’s called the fairy fan flower. I thought-"
She paused, her expression morphing into embarrassment, "Wait, this is so stupid, I’ll send them back,” She shook her head, the worry overtaking the rational part of her as she grabbed for the pot to stash it back in her room, but he held it out of her reach, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her body against his hip, as the other stretched out to keep her from snatching back the plant. 
“Tell me. What?” He said, his lips stretching into a devious smile to see her so shy suddenly, and she buried her face into her hands as he watched her, “I'm not going to think it's stupid. Why did you get me these?”
“They’re not for you- well, they are, but I just thought,” She stumbled over her sentences, her heart thumping that this was entirely the wrong move, that she was poking at an open wound no matter how caring she was being. Clearing her throat, she let her forehead thump onto his shoulder, her eyes squeezing shut as she spoke, “I thought you could keep it so that you can think of Maeve every time you water it, since Maeve was the name of the fairy queen,” 
He was quiet. God, why was he so quiet? Her breath was thick as molasses as they sat in the silence for a second. She nearly jumped a foot in the air when two of his fingers ran delicately beneath her chin, tilting her head up enough that he could see her face and she drew a sigh of relief when she saw he didn’t seem angry or hurt at all. 
His eyes were soft as pools of honey as he looked at her, his brows stirring into a sad-happy mix. 
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” She whispered, their faces so close they were sharing breath, and he shook his head, his fingers never leaving her skin where they forced her to stay near, gave her no choice but to keep her looking at him. She didn’t think she could stop even if she wanted to. Everything pretty about him was dialled to a thousand whenever she got close, and his thick lashes blinked at her like he was seeing a mirage, a daydream. 
“This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, Bug,” Spencer murmured back to her, his every word fanning over the bridge of her nose, and she sighed in content, melting back into his side as he pulled her into a hug, his own face burying into the crook of her neck, “Thankyou,” 
She smiled and hummed in happiness, wrapping her arms around his slender waist and drawing him so close she got a whiff of his shampoo. 
“I have a bigger pot in my room, if you like, then we can keep it in the kitchen sill, away from the boys,” She offered, beaming at him when he stroked over the back of her hair affectionately. She hopped out of the embrace, “I’ll go get it for you-”
“You’ve done enough, Bug,” Spencer reminded, something grateful in his tone as she paused and waited for whatever he was going to say, “I’ll go get the pot, you go decide what movie we should watch,”
“You’re sure?” Bugsy asked, her brows furrowed as she checked for signs of an escape in his movements. But he just smiled back at her tiredly, the purple flowers his accomplice as she gave in and headed back towards the sofa, “It’s by my dresser, where my paper bin used to be,”
He set the gift on the kitchen table, the lilac hues brightening up the kitchen already like they just knew how touched Spencer felt to have received them, like there really was some kind of fairy magic burrowed into the soil as they watched the two of them dance around one another, heading to opposite ends of the apartment with lingering glances and bashful smiles.
Spencer thought his chest couldn’t swell any bigger in size, his heart so inevitably full of her, it left room for no one else, not even Maeve, which was the first time he’d brought himself to think that in months. 
+1 The one with the book.
He opened the door to her bedroom, her duvet tossed everywhere because it was a rare occasion she made her bed before they left for work, her clothes strewn about the floor in the general direction of the bathroom, like she’d stripped on the way there, and the thought of it made his stomach seize with a heat, the idea of her undressing little more than a wall away from him knocking his every thought from his head.
The vase. He needed a bigger vase.
Quickly collecting her clothes up and shoving them into her laundry basket for her, he diverted his attention to her dresser, where the slightly roomier pot sat on the floor, a towel underneath it to catch any water remnants and he stepped over her various note pads and books she’d clearly tossed off the bed before she went to sleep. 
He tried to ignore them, he really did, but his scratching urge to keep things tidy for her wrestled with his conscience that said to leave her stuff alone. Before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself organising them into a neat pile in his hands and placing them on top of her dresser where one of her books had made it safely, or at least safe enough she wouldn’t trip over it. 
His gaze dropped to the book already on there, its leather cover entirely melting into the background of the dark chestnut dresser, yet it stared daggers up at him like it had been waiting to be noticed.
Great Expectations, Charles Dickens.
The book looked old enough to be easily from original 1900s, at least one of the first few hundred published. It was scuffed a little on the edges, the black lettering of the printed title choppy in places where it had been handled recklessly, and the leaves of paper were atom thin. The smell of dust and paper clouded his nose when he picked it up delicately.
Opening the front cover curiously to see its printed date, he was stopped in his tracks to see a little post it note on the title page, covering Mr Dickens’ name with a scrawled handwriting he’d known for six years. 
Six whole years. Nearly seven. He felt like he’d known her his whole life, when in startling reality he’d not even known her a third of it. 
And there it was, where he was expecting a list of notes or her thoughts on how David Copperfield had much more likeable characters, anything that she’d thought important enough to scratch down on the front page, instead was his name. 
Spencer,
He felt his breath catch the second he read it, contemplated slamming the book shut right then and there because this felt illicit to read whatever it was she’d scribbled out just for him even if it was dedicated to the stupid man who’d been asking her to wait on his stupid head and stupider heart to align so he could give her exactly everything she deserved. 
His gaze snapped away from the page, that voice in his head telling him this was wrong, that if she’d wanted him to see that book she would have given it to him already. And yet, like it did most days, the beating organ in his chest writhed in annoyance that he’d looked away, that he’d followed the rules one too many times for its liking. He bit his cheek, the two halves of himself arguing amongst themselves. 
After a second of debating, his eyes fell slowly to the note, a creeping guilt skirting down his spine that he was reading something private. How could something be private and yet meant for him? His brain scoffed at the dichotomy of it all, while his chest lurched when he caught a glimpse of more of her writing. 
‘Spencer,’ His heart trembled almost as much as his hand as he traced the writing with his forefinger, imagining her writing it out in a little ball point pen, her body slumped over the book with every intent of having him read her little note. He imaged her breath fanning across the page, her hand warm as her knuckles stroked over the paper, and it felt so much more intimate than a little post-it when he thought of her like that, ‘By the time you’re reading this I’ll be back home from London and we’ll probably be in your apartment doing that stupid thing we do when we pretend like I haven’t missed you more than anything in the whole world while I’ve been here in England,’
She wrote this in London, probably in that tiny apartment her and Emily had rented on a short lease, the one she’d said smelled like mildew and dust and wet wood but had a gorgeous view of Hyde Park when she looked out her bedroom window. 
She’d written it months ago, so why hadn’t she given it to him?
‘I miss you every day. You’re all I think about when I go for a run, and I think sometimes you’d really like it here. I’ve mapped out all the bookshops I’ve found and all the places that do really good coffee if you ever did want to visit England, but I think I’d be happy with you even if we lived in a little ditch on the side of the road like two drowning rats,’
His chest seized, tears lining his lashes when he thought about that day she’d yanked him into a hug the second she saw him, when he’d been too busy thinking about Maeve and burying whatever he felt for Bugsy entirely behind him. 
You should have called, Bug. He’d said, like his eidetic memory wanted to twist the knife in just that bit deeper, and he didn’t need his freaky brain to remember how her face had fallen when he’d said it like that. Like he didn’t even want to see her. 
He hated himself. He hated himself more than she’d ever had. Even if she had more rights than anyone to despise his selfish guts. 
‘Anyway, I know Dickens isn’t your favourite or anything, but I got you this because I know you like the original copies and because it made me think of you (but then again, what doesn’t?). 
I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine. And so I guess that means I’ll love you until the life part stops too. 
All my heart,
Bug.’
He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he finished the note, digesting every single word the average speed instead of his usual method of inhaling the letters faster than should be possible, like he wanted to savour every single one because they’d come from her. 
He heard her saying every single one, the thought striking him like someone had cracked him across the face with a paddle. She’d wanted to say all of this when she was in London, when he’d been too busy for her, when he’d been too busy with Maeve. 
I never truly enjoyed the living part of life until you were in mine. 
“Did you find it?” Her voice called from the other room, no doubt where she was settling down to flick the movie on, her heart so delicate and gracious because she was still waiting for him. 
Even now, even when she was in his clothes and under the blanket she’d brought from her apartment for them to use on movie nights because it got cold too fast in his house, when she was waiting for him to come back. 
Spencer felt knocked out of a dream, like someone had yanked the chord on his music, shaken him awake into the freezing realisation she was waiting for a reply. 
He’d made her wait long enough. 
He barely heard her footsteps entering her own room, probably worried when he hadn’t responded and she said his name, “Spence?” A shudder rolled over his neck when he heard it, a siren song he’d been hearing like a mantra for weeks and he felt something fat and full well in his chest when he turned to look at her, standing there in nothing but boxers and a shirt, just as she had when he’d first met her. 
Except she was his. She was waiting on his call, on his signal, on his word go. 
And it was like the idea of being with her for the rest of his life made his living part worth it too. Like it always had done. 
Her eyes fell down to where his hand rested on top of the book, the page splayed open where he’d delicately flicked it open, the yellow post-it catching in the light and making her expression fall. 
They looked at each other, the same thought channelling between them, their brains meshed together on some other kind of bluetooth the same way they’d always done, only this time it was a prickling hive mind that gave them both gooseflesh the second they locked eyes. 
“Why didn’t you give me this?” He asked, his voice small because he already knew the answer, not daring to move a muscle like she was some kind of deer ready to be spooked. 
“You were busy,” She said equally as sheepish, her thumb moving to pick the side of her nail when she saw his still stature. They went quiet again, neither of them daring so much as to breathe too loud because they both knew what was on that note. It was the closest she could ever come to splitting open her own chest and handing him that thumping wad of bloodied muscle herself, and it was only when he turned to look at her did she panic, words tumbling from her lips; anything to stop him from walking away because she’d been poking around a fresh wound, “You weren’t supposed to see- I mean you were but only when you wanted to, I didn’t want you to think-”
Except he wasn’t heading for the door like she’d thought, he was heading straight for her. 
“Spence, please, I wasn’t going to tell you until-” But she’d shut up, because instead of replying anything back to her, instead of telling her she could have his heart and his soul and everything in between if she’d ever ask for it again, instead of telling her she was the thing that had kept him alive, like she might as well be the blood that rushed through every one of his veins, he grabbed her face in his hands so hard her back hit the wall, her hands flying out to stop herself from falling. 
And he kissed her, so hard he thought he might cry because it was better than any high he’d ever had, any drug on the market, better than his wildest dreams. She froze for a second, worried she’d tripped and fallen on her way over, that this was a concussion spun wild, because there was no way he was kissing her with every inch of their available skin pressing against one another, his hands swallowing her cheeks whole, his body invading her space, his breath rushing through her nose that bumped against his clumsily. 
Bugsy woke up after a second, her hands gripping onto his slender waist like he was pulling her drowning out of water, like he was dragging her from a flame which she didn’t think sounded too far off since her skin had become molten, her cheeks hot, her chest wrenching for control like she’d inhaled black smoke. 
But he was there, kissing her like she was all he had left, and she kissed him back with equal fervour, whimpering when he bit her lip, a hand wrapping around her waist to tug her just that bit closer to his stomach. Any molecule of her that was left behind was stolen by the action, and all she could think was that every inch of her was his, entirely his, his forever if he wanted it. 
“I love you, I love you so much,” He gasped, drawing away for a split second of air before he took her lips to his own once more, twice, and a third for good luck, their teeth knocking together as he wanted to tell her that a million more times while still kissing her, “I love you, I love you. God, I don’t think I ever want to stop saying it,” 
He pulled her to him again, silencing his own stupid ramblings of a mad man, a whine dragging from his throat as his brows furrowed, his lips soft and plump as he kissed her like he was begging for honey after a hundred day fast. 
And she smiled into his mouth, because Spencer was finally hers. 
--
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sukunastoy · 2 days
Text
The “Businessman”
Pairings: Fem!Reader x Sukuna
Cw/Tw: Violence, mentions of murder, torture, none of this is towards reader though.
WC: 1221
Note: I wrote something similar to this a long time ago, but I can’t find it on here, so I’m redoing it with more detail. 🫶 I might make this into a series at some point.
~Your CEO husband doesn’t like it when someone makes you cry. They’ll never be a problem for you or anyone else ever again.~
Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! ✨
You're having a shitty day work, your boss being a complete asshole as usual. It's like he deliberately called you out in front of everyone else for the smallest of errors. Regrettably, you end up leaving early so you can go home and decompress. In other words, take a hot bath and cry. You didn't tell your husband, and you just wanted to sleep and not disturb him while he was at work, managing his own company. You didn't have to work, but you didn't like the idea of being just a stay at home wife with nothing to do. You liked a bit of a challenge, but this job was becoming too much of a stress factor in your life. When your boss wasn't being a complete dick, the work was nice, and you truly enjoyed the company of your coworkers. Talking gossip and having friends to go out on lunch dates with were the main perks of this job. Everyone was starting to get fed up with the boss though, and you often thought about quitting, since you didn't need this job, but you didn't want to give up your individuality.
As you pulled into your driveway, you sighed heavily into the steering wheel. It was barely after 10 am. Much too early to be home, but today was just too much to bear. Sulking inside, you kicked off your shoes and shed most of your clothing on the way to your lavish bathroom. You didn't need to tell Sukuna, your petty problems aren't something you wanted to burden him with.
But of course, your husband has tracking on your phone. And while he's in the middle of a meeting, letting his other associates talk about company improvements, his phone vibrates with your change of location. Glancing to the clock, he realizes, it's too early for you to be home. Not that he cares, you're free to do as you wish, but it was abnormal for his wife to be home so early on a work day. He isn't questioned as he stands and leaves the meeting, others knowing his personal affairs aren't to be pried into. This part of his job can wait. He has his driver make a few stops on the way home before he arrives, and he finds you curled into the large bed beneath the blankets. Feeling the mattress sink in next to you, your eyes flutter open to the gorgeous face looking down to you. Sukuna's warm hand is cupping your cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over the small dried tear streak from your eye. His gaze focused on it momentarily before lifting his eyes to yours.
"Hey, princess." he chuckles and kisses your forehead before placing something soft and velvety against your lips. The familiar scent of a rose filled your senses and you smiled weakly to him.
"Is it already after 5..?" You ask through a small yawn, assuming it was the end of his work day. "Not even close." He chuckles, his large hand rubbing across your hip, caressing you softly.
"Saw you went home. Came to check on my darling."
Ah, that's right. You sometimes forgot your husband knew your every move. Others thought it was severely controlling and an invasion to your privacy, but you honestly didn't care. He had his possessive traits, but you knew he'd never interfere into something innocent unless it was to benefit you. Like now. It was little moments like this you enjoyed. You didn't want to bother him, and he could see your location was heading towards home. So, not like you were straying away to a place he didn't know. But, he chose to come on his own. And the rose and small basket of your favorite treats he had got on the way home made it even more endearing.
"Just having a rough day?" His deep voice spoke against your skin as you now cuddled with him, his warm lips gracing your neck in kisses.
"Yeah, my boss can be such an asshole. I swear, he likes to insult everyone in front of a crowd for no reason. Its so embarrassing and I just wasn't in the mood today for his antics."
"Want me to kill him for you?" His serious sounding response made you laugh while shoving his arm playfully. "Ha, I wish."
Oh sweet innocent thing...your husband would do anything for you. With the money and power he possesses, a simple task as that would be nothing. You may have joked and laughed about a crazy fantasy that many wished upon their shitty bosses, but in your case, it would be taken care of.
This wasn't the first time Sukuna heard you complain about your boss, nor the first time you came home early and had been obviously crying. Sukuna was the endearing CEO husband who you loved and trusted with all your heart. At least, to you he was. To others, he was a terrifying sight, especially if anyone crossed him. Or you.
~~~~~~~~
Sukuna hummed in delight while slipping on a pair of black latex gloves, a slight twitch in his lips, pulling them to a grin across his face.
"If you keep trying to break out of those cuffs, I'm going to bash in your kneecaps." He said nonchalantly to his victim in the chair before him.
"You're fucking crazy! Just let me go man! I didn't do anything to you!"
Sukuna only hummed louder to himself to drown out the pathetic cries of desperation. Again, his victim wrestled with the cuffs, groaning and cussing while trying to slip his hands out of them.
Picking up the sledge hammer that was leaning against his prep table, Sukuna twisted it in his hands briefly, looking at the blunt end of the tool with delight. "Left, or right?" He simply asked, finally looking to the restrained man.
"You're gonna rot in jail for this shit!"
"Left it is."
Taking a step forward, Sukuna swung the sledge hammer swiftly into the mans left knee, and the sickening crunch of bones echoed through the concrete room. It only took one hit to completely destroy the man's knee, and Sukuna laughed in unison with the gargled screams from his victim. The man might eventually pass out from pain, but he'd wake him up again. This wasn't going to be quick and easy. He had too many tools laid out to have his fun for the next several hours. Pulling teeth and prying off fingernails were some of his favorite forms of slow torture.
~~~~~~~~~
Going into work the next day, the news of your boss quitting abruptly with no notice was shocking. You thanked luck, just happy he was finally out of here, and someone more respectable took his place. Perhaps he finally got enough complaints against him. Sukuna would rejoice in the lucky news with you later in the day after he made you an amazing dinner. And when he took you to bed, he made love so passionately to you, his large hands so gentle and tender to your body. You were clueless to his true nature, and he preferred it that way. He took pride in knowing the remains of your old boss were never going to be found. No one was allowed to make his darling cry.
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bitchesuntitled · 1 day
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Friday Night
Summary: First time Frankie tells you he loves you and finally meeting the boys.
Part of the Parents to Lovers series, set between Paint with Me and Between Us
Warnings/Tags: MDNI, GO ON GET! Cuteness, little splash of smut, oral M!receiving, anxious reader, cussing, I think that's it but if anyone sees something I should add that I forgot let me know!
A/N: Happy Frankie Friday!!! Thank you so very much @beefrobeefcal, my fellow Frankie obsessed friend for taking a look at this and continuously helping me with my writing. @endlessthxxghts for also taking a look at this and offering your expertise much appreciated bb! Last but not least, @jay-zzle GUURRRLLLLL!!! Moodboards(like this one), story ideas, screaming with me about Pedro, thank you for meeting my delulu at the same level. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Masterlist||AO3 Link||Parents to Lovers
dividers provided by @saradika-graphics
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“I’m so close,” Frankie hisses, gripping the couch cushion, knuckles turning white with the force. His cock twitches in your mouth, your hands feeling the tension in his thighs as you bob along his length, eyes looking up to watch him. His eyebrows scrunch together, chest heaving, his neck and face flushed with a crimson color.
He groans, watching your swollen lips wrapped around him as he comes into your mouth. 
“I love you.”
Your eyes widen at his words as you swallow every drop with a hum. Releasing his length with a soft pop, you crawl into his lap. You couldn't help but let your smile spread across your face. Leave it to you and your luck to have the man you are smitten with admit he loves you as you make him come with your mouth. 
Frankie's eyes remain heavy lidded as he watches you with a half-smile tugging at his lips.
"So," you giggle, walking your fingers up his chest with a cocked eyebrow. "You love me, huh?”
He grabs the back of your neck, smashing his mouth against yours in a desperate kiss.
“That’s not exactly how I wanted to tell you, but yeah,” Frankie says, neck and cheeks flushing with warmth even more.
“Hmm,” you laugh, “What a way to let a girl know.”
“It’s true though, ya know? I do love you. Definitely didn’t want it to come out that way, had thought of a better way to tell you but shit happens,” Frankie says with a shrug.
“I love you too.”
“Yeah?” he asks with a grin, “So, does that mean you’d want to meet the guys finally?”
The men are more so brothers to him than friends. He’s brought up introducing you to them before, but it just seemed too soon. It’s been five months, and things seem to be going in a more serious direction. You’ve tried to put it off, though now it seems like it might be the right time.
Frankie: Sitter just got here. Headed your way 😘
It’s Friday night, you’re finally going to meet Frankie’s friends, the men who mean just as much to him as Missy. Dressed in your favorite jeans, your lucky AC/DC shirt, and your sneakers, you’re pacing outside on the sidewalk waiting for Frankie to arrive.
“You’ve got this,” you mutter to yourself. If anyone were to see you they’d probably think you were nuts but you didn’t care; your nerves were getting the better of you, the voice inside your head making all sorts of suggestions like, why you picked that outfit or that you’re underdressed. “Stop that, you’re meeting them at a bar for fuck sakes,” you hiss at yourself.
You hear Frankie’s truck approaching and stop your pacing. It’s darker out but you can still see him through the windshield, that standard oil ball cap on, and the wide grin on his face when he sees you. He stops beside the sidewalk, leaning over the center console to push the passenger side door open for you.
“Didn’t think you’d be waiting outside for me,” he laughs, as you get in the cab of his truck.
“Nervous,” you shrug, giving him a quick kiss before buckling in.
“Nervous?” Frankie asks, perplexed, “About what?”
“Just nervous they aren’t going to like me,” you say quietly, picking at the skin around your thumbnail.
“Baby,” Frankie says, grabbing your hand, “You make me happy and they know that. That’s all they care about. No need to worry about anything.”
You let out a breath, squeezing his hand. You’re already feeling more calm now that you’re with Frankie. 
It was a short drive to the bar they frequent the most. Frankie’s told you many stories about this bar and their shenanigans there. As you enter the bar you can feel some of the tension leaving your body. It’s a nice little place, not very well-lit but it gives off a comforting vibe. There’s a jukebox in the corner, a rough-looking gentleman behind the bar, and a table where you see three men beginning to stand, waving at you and Frankie.
“Fish!” A tall blonde shouts, “You finally brought your girl!”
“I did!” Frankie says, his hand at your lower back guiding you over to his friends, “Finally talked her into meeting you assholes.”
Frankie began laughing and giving hugs to his friends before you all sat at the table.
“Alright babe, this is Will, Santi, and Benny,” Frankie says pointing to each man, who in turn raises their hand.
“So he had to convince you to meet us?” Will asked, raising his eyebrow.
“It wasn’t really like that,” you laugh, “I was just nervous is all.”
“We don’t bite,” Santi said with a smile, “Well not all of us,” he added, glancing at Benny.
“It was one fucking time. Will you let it go?” Benny grumbled, crossing his arms, “I told you if you didn’t let me go I was going to do it.”
“I’m gonna get a beer,” Frankie said, nudging your arm, “Want anything?”
“Margarita, please.”
“Sure thing,” he said, kissing your temple before leaving the table.
“So,” Will started, leaning closer to the table, “You get along with Missy?”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Santi murmured, “Ironhead, leave her alone. Remember meeting Nora at Missy’s birthday party last month?”
“Nora?” Benny asked, whipping his head towards Santi, “The one that hit me in the nuts with the water balloon?”
“She did what?!” You asked, “I’m so sorry!”
“Guys, this is Nora’s mom,” Santi explained, gesturing towards you.
“Oh fuck! I forgot you’re a MILF!” Benny exclaimed, earning him a smack from Will to the back of the head.
“Here you go, babe,” Frankie said, setting your margarita down in front of you. Immediately grabbing it to take a drink, hoping it soothes your nerves after that small interrogation from Will.
The conversation and drinks flow as you hear more stories about Frankie, Santi, Benny, and Will. From their time in the army and their many adventures in life after. You learn that the men have been there a lot for Frankie, his journey as a single dad, and the struggles he’s dealt with. It’s apparent that Missy is a big part of their lives just as she is in Frankie’s. They each spoke fondly of her and how much they adore her.
“I’ll be back,” Frankie grunts, standing up with a stretch, “Bout to piss myself.”
“Please don’t,” Santi laughs, “I don’t have a spare pair of pants this time.”
You give Santi a curious look as Frankie glares at him shaking his head, making his way to the bathroom.
“Story for another time, hermosa,” Santi says with a wicked grin. 
“What’s the deal with you and Frankie?” Will blurts out, once Frankie is out of earshot.
“Yeah,” Benny agrees, “What’s the deal?”
“Not quite sure what you mean,” you start, “But if you’re asking what we are, he’s my boyfriend and I’m his girlfriend?”
“No, we get that,” Will replies with a sigh, “What I mean is what are your intentions with him? Where do you see this going?”
“Jesus christ, Will,” Santi scolds, “You need to leave her alone with the intense questions!”
“I’m just a concerned friend,” Will snaps, then turns towards you, “Do you see this lasting long term or is this just a fling?”
“Well,” you start, “It’s not just a fling by any means. I love Frankie. I know you are looking out for him and are protective, I can respect that. No need to worry though, the last thing I would want is Frankie’s heart to be broken or mine.”
“Do you get along with Missy?” Benny pipes in, “You never really answered that question earlier.”
“Missy is such a sweetheart. I have her over at my house all the time to play with Nora and she loves it when she gets to stay the night,” you smile thinking about the last slumber party the girls had, baking cookies together making a mess of your kitchen, “She’s a cool kid but we haven’t told the girls yet. We want to wait until we’re more sure of where things are going if you’re concerned about that.”
Will and Benny nod, listening to what you have to say. Santi gives you a warm smile.
“Told you guys,” Santi hums, taking a swig from his beer, “Why would you question anything when Frankie’s been so positive when he talks about her?”
“Rose-tinted glasses my friend, rose-tinted glasses,” Will replies, “We’ve all been there.”
“Hey guys, I’m back,” Frankie says, taking his place beside you, “Sorry, sitter called.”
“Missy okay?” you ask, concern etching your face.
“Yeah, yeah,” Frankie smiles, brushing his hand along your shoulder, “Just wanted to tell me good night.”
“She’s so sweet,” Will smiles fondly.
“She can be,” Frankie laughs, “So did I miss anything while I was gone?”
“Not much,” Will replies, nodding his head towards you with a smile, “Finally got yourself a good one Fish.”
Frankie smiles at you, tips of his ears going a slight pink, and he nods, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
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miimo96 · 2 days
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Thoughts on My Adventures with Superman S2 episode 2
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It's so weird seeing Amanda Waller act like this, normal because I'm so used to her behavior of being completely bats#it crazy, putting bombs in people's head, and basically sacrificing other people's well being for the "Greater Good" So seeing her wake up and go through this Normal everyday routine, is just really Jarring to me
Bruh I love this Show, she really came up with a whole ass plan that involved so many Complications and money, just for Clark to be like "Orrrr We could this" 😂
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Bruh She LOVES jumping of things and putting herself in danger, I don't know about you, but to me that is Crazy, and I Love it ^^
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*chuckles nervously *Why the Hell does this Feel like foreshadowing, like she's gonna fall off of something and we WON'T able to catch her at 1st 😅😅
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Yay we finally see him learn that he can't use his X-ray vision with things, when they're Reinforced with Lead ^^
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Hey Johnny blaze called, he wants his gimmick back; But In all seriousness it's really Awesome to see Atomic Skull appear in this series, I haven't seen him since Justice league, and tbh I completely forgot he existed until I saw this episode, nice to see that they're Still using Obscure characters for the Villains, before moving on to the Big leagues
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Based on what I see it looks like Task force X is experimenting on other people, in Hope's of creating something to Destroy Superman, and based on all these people having Spikes sticking out, I assume this may be an attempt at Doomsday, and if that's the case, OH MY GOD!!!
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The Fight scenes have gotten A LOT Better within this show, before it didn't really feel like you were seeing a fight take place, but rather just hearing it instead, it's pretty hard to explain but the fights in the last season felt a bit anticlimactic and pretty weak, like you didn't FEEL the force of impact with each hit or the pressure of the Battle like you were really in the scene, Now it DOES Feel like that and I'm really glad it does so, Mainly because most stuff I've watched with fight scenes recently, felt a bit weak, and didn't make me feel immersed in the Action, FINALLY someone realized this and completely Fixed it, Kudos to however that was 👍
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Is it me or is General lane going to Soon find out who Clark really is, Resulting in so much Drama coming between the 2 and Lois, Clark can't keep up this charade forever, and lois is gonna have to tell the the truth at some point, or maybe General lane is just as Smart as his daughter and is gonna figure it out pretty easily, either way can't wait ^^
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Well well well if it isn't Lex Luthor, he's finally here, and judging by how the episode ended, it looks like he's going to slowly be Amanda Waller's Next right hand, replacing Slade and maybe even finally gonna be turning into the Lex we all love, Judging by how this lex acts it reminds me a bit of Jessie eisenberg's impression in Batman V Superman, only done a little bit better here, instead of making jokes and shoving Jolly ranchers into other people's mouth, he actually feels like an evil genius and has a reason to Hate Superman, as no one that Powerful should exist, setting up jealousy towards superman and maybe even soon losing his hair, and if he doesn't lose the hair, I'm Totally alright with it, due to how Good his character already is
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falmerbrook · 3 days
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I mean as actual, genuine answer: there is no such thing as canon in TES. Everyone decides what is canon for themselves. It has been reiterated many times by multiple different lore masters, and is honestly one of the few good things they kept that MK added to the lore.
Yes, there's written lore that is canon to more people. But everything is up to interpretation. That's the freedom TES gives you - everything is canon, and nothing is, and only you can decide what is canon for you personally.
Ok so sorry I've let this ask rot in my inbox for a month 😭! I think at the time I was thinking about how to reply, and then I got busy with a new job starting and forgot about it! Anyway, the context was a poll going around that said something like "what do you consider canon in TES"
I've actually given a lot of thought about "canon" in TES in the past because I find it to be an interesting thing in this fandom specifically. So obviously I haven't been here very long, but this is the vibe I've gotten about it so far:
I kinda feel like the TES community’s whole “there is no canon” is an artifact of a bygone era of internet fandom where debates about canon were a much bigger deal, which, given TES's unique takes on retcons, theme of the unreliable narrator, and interesting unanswered questions, was a necessary sentiment at the time. But modern fandom as a subculture is a lot more open to headcanon and different interpretations and doing your own thing with a piece of media now, and places a lot less value on what is “right” in canon than it used to.
Like, I don’t disagree with the intention of the idea, that as a series of roleplaying experiences what is canon to you is just as valid as what is canon to someone else, but I think the idea that everything is canon is kinda a misunderstanding of what canon means. For example, sure, there is no canon when it comes to who the Nerevarine was, what exact actions they took, whether they were actually a reincarnation of Nerevar, and where where they went, but it is canon that there was a person called the Nerevarine in Morrowind in the late 3rd era, yknow. There's canonically a province called Skyrim, but the canon of Skyrim's culture and history is more loose. I think the more accurate way of looking at canon for TES at this point in time is that rather than a binary “canon” vs “not canon” it’s more like a gradient of canon.
It also seems like the question of if ESO is "canon" kinda necessitated the need to talk about what's canon (and for people working on the games to bring it up)
But that's just how I see it. It seems like everyone is on the same page anyway (at least on here, which is what matters to me), and I'm just trying to explain a vague communal understanding with a history older than me in words poorly lol
Thanks for the ask!!
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itsguysnightitsironic · 5 months
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An invitation for a midnight snack I PART 3 I
May the soil be soft, the wind kind and the worms quick. May we rest in kind arms.
Sarnax and Yorgrim should meet at least once, I want to know what those two would discuss.
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Probably about death or soil, mostly dirt.
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skrunksthatwunk · 3 months
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every time i remember hiei and yusuke's little ritual of sparring whenever they see each other for the first time in a while (usually as they're about to face a big threat) and how hiei just wordlessly attacks him and yusuke takes it with good humor (for the most part) i lose my fucking mind and i need someone else to understand so so bad
hiei opening with unexplained violence, acting like the murderous demon everyone takes him to be, and yusuke seeing through it as just how hiei is, and meeting him where he is in this non-malicious but combative intricate ritual bs. they met through violence and communicate through it but it's out of an admiration for skill, for what can't be said with words, for their reliance on each other as equals, as teammates. they share a past of ostracization, resentment, and a desire to burn the world down for its treatment of them the others don't. hiei feels seen in and understood by yusuke. i don't think it needs to be said that hiei doesn't have many people he considers equals, or peers, or teammates. and yusuke was the first to trust him. to see him as more than a monster. to have blind, unearned faith that he could do good, and that he could be better. yusuke changed him. his trust and friendship changed him. and so for that ritual to rely on that trust—the thought that hiei wouldn't actually turn on him, wasn't trying to betray him or hurt him or get his revenge like he used to claim—makes those scenes so poignant (read: makes me want to howl into the night air). it's about the dance. it's about what they know they have in common beneath the posturing and machismo, the ways they are alike deep, deep down, and the way they both know that and never speak of it.
i also think it's because hiei's afraid of losing him. it's especially obvious in chapter black, but even in DT he's got to make sure yusuke—a dumbass who only got his powers recently—is up to scratch. no matter how he feels about humanity, he doesn't particularly want to see yusuke lose everything he loves either. but mostly he couldn't stand to watch yusuke fall. and because he knows yusuke's in over his head, he's testing whether he has to distance himself and prepare for yusuke to abandon him (via death) like everyone else. he doesn't do this with kuwabara because (at least in the DT's case) he'd been training him. he knows, for the most part, what kuwabara can do. (he also doesn't have that same closeness, both because kuwabara doesn't trust him and, perhaps, because he's doing the distance thing pre-emptively bc he thinks he's weak, unlike yusuke). and he doesn't do this with kurama because he believes wholeheartedly in his skill, centuries of experience, and demonhood. humans are fragile, and hiei needs to reassure himself that yusuke isn't.
hiei claims he wants revenge and postures like a rival, but he never goes all out and he never tries this seriously. he fools around with yusuke because if yusuke lost and hiei proved his superiority, hiei would have to leave him behind. and as much as he wants to prove his strength, as hungry as he is for validation (centering fighting prowess because violent is all he's ever been allowed to be), he can't stand the thought of that. he feels that he is yusuke's equal and peer (and friend), whether they're equally strong or not, but because a part of him still thinks fighting's all that matters (and because he wants to protect him and thus himself), hiei must make himself believe that yusuke is as strong as him. so he checks in on him for reassurance via sparring, but never actually tries to hurt him. in conclusion, i am so normal
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munamania · 1 year
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the best of: jade claymore
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yujeong · 5 days
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"You look awful."
Despite his blurry vision, Vegas didn't - couldn't - ignore the flash of anger that crossed Pete's ghostly-pale face. The black beneath his eyes deepened. His lips grew thin and tight below his hollow cheeks.
"Whose fault is that?"
The silence that followed sat heavy on Vegas' chest. The pain lingered there; it wasn't dangerous, not like that, though he wouldn't say anything either way.
Pete lowered his head. He slipped up - a mistake his old job wouldn't allow him to escape from unscathed. Pete knew it better than anyone working for the main family. Vegas had made sure of it.
"I'm sorry," he said after he collected himself and Vegas honestly wished he'd punched him instead.
Don't, he almost yelled, but gulped it down. I'm not strong enough to bear what comes after those words.
"Does it hurt anywhere?" Pete continued and Vegas wanted to laugh and laugh and never stop.
He said nothing.
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nejackdaw · 4 months
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Nine Five people you'd like to know better
Tagged by @thana-topsy Hi lol 👋 wasn't expecting this (/lh)
[3 Ships]
1) Celann and Charlotte. (holding them in my hands) my babies. I love they
2) I'll honestly just put it out there, Chriscariot. That album rewired my brain. The absolute gay yearning. Did you guys know about the Gospel of Judas. I've been so normal on Tumblr. Not in real life. Not in the slightest. Bible fandom has some fun stuff
3) the Mo/Resa/Dustfinger/Roxanne polycule. I am correct.
[First Ship]
I actually think that's gonna have to be Zuko/Sokka. Except I was unaware of what shipping was at the time because I was young and offline. I did think they should go out tho.
[Last Song]
Funeral Derangements (Ice Nine Kills.) Honestly surprised it wasn't something off the Judas album
[Currently Reading]
Inkheart. Again. Yes I finished the series and turned right around and started it again. I did finish The man Born to be King last night tho. Haven't seen the original JCS but yeah. That Judas and 2012 Arena Tour Judas 🤝
[Last Film]
..... Highlander.... I caught a glimpse of it a while ago and there was this cunty old man. I immediately called Bread over and well. There was not as much of him in the film as we hoped. What did we watch (hello??? Plot??? Please???) That goth guy was having the time of his life tho honestly good for him. What a bizarre experience.
[Currently Craving]
The arrival of the books I ordered. I'm gonna be so real. I am so impatient for them to arrive. Even ignoring the fact that Mortimer (my darling little blue jay plush) is being shipped to God knows where (it's Rhode Island. I feel it in my bones that for some reason another package has been redirected to Rhode Island.) Other than that, uh... draw juice. Would like to draw thing
[Tags]
Gonna tag @argisthebulwark @fabeong @greeneyed-thestral @forpiratereasons and @snake-snack-stede my beloved mutuals 🌹 hi guys :)
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airenyah · 2 months
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💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌 🥰🥰
Hi dear @airenyah! I miss your Sana Bakkoush header but will recognize your BBS icon and your kind online voice anywhere! 😍 Accompanying this Ask with good wishes for a beautiful springtime day, to one of the nicest people I know who also has a kind and generous heart! 💖
awwwww that's such a sweet thing of you to say 🥺🥺🥺
i saw this ask first thing in the morning after i woke up and it had me all kinds of 🥰🥰🥰
i too miss my sana bakkoush header (she looks so cute in that shot)!! usually i'd just change my icon but this is the first time since i've made this blog a decade ago that i can't change my icon over my header, because otherwise @ranchthoughts and i wouldn't have matching icons anymore and that thought hurts me more than saying goodbye to sana after 7 years 😔💔
#sana has served my blog well but now.. it is time 💔#i think sana was my first real gay crush??#except i thought i was straight and kinda just ignored it as i obsessed over isak and even's relationship djcjcjfjc#and i was really attached to the sana header bc of that and i just couldn't bring myself to change it even when i stopped being into skam#and started falling more and more into (thai) bl world#and then i developed a crush on an irl girl from my uni (rip)#and i actually THOUGHT about changing my header when i first watched mafia the series back in september#but at that point i struggled even more to change it bc it felt like it was proof that i'd liked girls too for much longer than i'd realized#bc i'd had that sana header for so long and i was so attached to it (she's INSANELY cute in that header) and so yeah... djfjfjcj#but then i forgot to save my header in my april fool's prank stress and that felt like it was the universe telling me ''it is time''#''get a new header. this is your moment'' so here we are with my new mafia the series header featuring my boy joong archen djfjfjiv#considering i call myself a bad buddy blog in ''its joongdunk era'' i should have probably gone with a joongdunk header#so my icon + header would represent both the bad buddy blog and the joongdunk era djfjfjic#but i GOTTA promote mafia the series bc it's an actual GEM of a show. easily my fave non-bl series#it had me in tears when i watched it to the point my mom commented on how she could hear my laugh in my room gkfjfjjf#asks#also can i just say... i adore this fandom so much 🥺🥺🥺#everyone here in our little tumblr corner is so sweet and nice and i just adore all of you sooooo so much 🥺💗💗💗
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Ok but here's also some shit I remember about Yakuza 4 that absolutely tickles me
Akiyama is a stupid slut who thinks a single row of books is enough to hide his big money vault; that he has more chemistry with Arai and Tanimura than Yasuko (the girl he's pining over because he looks like his old crush that he somehow hasn't gotten over yet); and that Mack called him a "washed up p0rnstar". He is hilarious when he's not being creepy to Yasuko.
One of Akiyama's revelations involves a panty thief falling off a building in slow motion to overly dramatical classical music as underwear flies everywhere (or something like that)
Nair was the best character in the game and deserved her own spinoff
Hana deserved better than [gestures to the entire game] this
Some random, non-Majima related Saejima things: his mentor makes him punch rocks in some underground tunnels to get stronger; he pulls out a big chunk of wood and starts carving whenever he has a revelation; the developers thought Kido - a Wocky Kitoky ass looking kid - would make a good final boss for him; the scene where he finally reunites with his old oyabun is absolutely devastating
considerin you remember more akiyama stuff the most i think if we wrangled that other anon who remembered stuff about saejima and we get two more people who remembered more abuot kiryu and tanimura we can make a vague composite of Y4's plot
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neo-shitty · 9 months
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the dead man didn’t have to look that hot 😫
#lmao i forgot i had this in my drafts#this is about anime ok… ik how weird it seems but bear with me#YUKI YOU WILL BE MISSED#THE PIERCINGS THE UNDERCUT#all this time i thought he had black hair i was mistaken??? he looks like some guy from haikyuu actually#just cant pinpoint who#i was talking abt given btw#its like my first BL anime lmao and i think that’s mild compared to others 💀💀 but like#i’ve only watched 🤨🏳️‍🌈❓ animes (*coughs* bsd-ish/banana fish) so seeing them admit outright theyre gay just :9 i never thought they actuall#do that HAHAH i thought it was all tension builds and yk assume what you want… i stand corrected and i found this might be the beginning#of my descent into BL madness… i get the hype now for fucks sake#THEY WERE SO ADORABLE!!!#given was such a fair mix of everything—easy to watch and all#when mafuyu sang i nearly cried 🙂 the pain he must’ve been keeping in after what happened i hope he knows it wasn’t his fault#i wish we explored more on his past but i think that would’ve made the series hurt more#on a lighter note—the other band members and the one-sided thing going on was just a funny side plot#uenoyama’s coolness dwindling when he realized he was catching feelings and his inability to handle them HAHA#THE LAST THREE EPISODES WERE JUST GOLD TO ME they were like full on angst and then downright hilarious#i loved it#5/5#i might eventually bump it down to 4s or 3s when i begin to move on from it but it was good to say the least#and not a waste of time hehe#toff.txt
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eatabledogy · 2 years
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So I'm developing a new favourite interest-
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frisk can u please infodump to us about warrior cats
!!! I would love to!!! Um!!! Uuummmmm!!!
.....I don't know where to start!!! :(
Umm. Okay, so, the first arc is about Rusty!!!
...warrior cats is split up into arcs that are 6 books long!
OKAY so Rusty is a kittypet, but one day he hops the fence to go hunt for a mouse for fun, but he gets attacked by something!!! (っ°O°c) it's okay though!!! He fights really well and the other cat introduces himself as Graypaw!!! He's a warrior in training. And then Rusty gets invited to join THUNDERCLAN!!! ⸜(。˃ ヮ ˂ )⸝ so he does and then LONGTAIL (¬_¬ ) makes fun of him for being a kittypet. So Rusty fights and his collar snaps off!!! Abd then Bluestar- that's the Thunderclan leader!!- names him Firepaw!!!
...oh and also another apprentice Ravenpaw bursts in and announces that Redtail, the deputy, got killed during a fight near the sunningrocks, and Tigerclaw says that Oakheart- the deputy from RiverClan- did it and he killed Oakheart as revenge and Bluestar makes Lionheart the new deputy (This is important later!! ;))
So, Firepaw goes out on his first hunting patrol on his own and meets a rogue!!! They're not supposed to be on clan territory, so he attacks her!! He wins because he's super cool and then realises she's, like, STARVING, so he catches her a rabbit and eats some himself- except that breaks the warrior code =[ so he gets in trouble for it. The cat turns out to be YELLOWFANG!!!! o(^ワ^)o the old shadowclan medicine cat and firepaw has to like, take care of her as punishment for eating the rabbit.
So then Firepaw goes to his first clan meeting!!! \(^ヮ^)/ Brokenstar, the shadowclan leader, announces that since their clan is so big they drove off windclan because they need to hunt on their territory (HE SUCKS!!!)
Oh yeah!! And also the ShadowClan apprentices look really small!!! AND brokenstar says that a rogue killed some shadowclan kits and she should be killed immediately if you spot her. So everyone in thunderclan thinks it's yellowfang (EVEN THOUGH SHE'S THE BEST!!) But Bluestar is smarter than everyone else and says that nobody can hurt Yellowfang because brokenstar didn't say it was her
So then Bluestar goes to the Moonstone, but the only really important thing that happens is we meet Barley (he's also the greatest!!) And Tigerclaw doesn't trust him because he's a loner (not a clan cat, rogue or kittypet!)
SHADOWCLAN ATTACKS THE THUNDERCLAN CAMP!!! (っ>⁠o⁠<⁠c) LIONHEART GETS KILLED!!! TIGERCLAW THE NEW DEPUTY!!ヽ(^Д^)ノ Ravenpaw tells Firepaw something!!
Remember Redtail?? Well, IT TURNS OUT, TIGERCLAW was the one who killed him so that he could be the deputy, and Ravenpaw is scared that Tigerclaw is gonna kill him to keep his secret!! (TIGERCLAW SUCKS MORE THAN BROKENSTAR!!)
FROSTFUR'S KITS ARE MISSING!!! SPOTTEDLEAF (the medicine cat!) IS DEAD!! (Attavking medicine cats is actually against the warrior code, meaning that whoever did it is EVIL!!!) Tigerclaw says it must have been Yellowfang, and that Ravenpaw helped her!! (He DIDN'T!!!)
Bluestar asks Firepaw to find Yellowfang because she'll listen to him, so he takes Ravenpaw and Graypaw and sends Ravenpaw to live with Barley, because it's too dangerous in ThunderClan. Then they find Yellowfang!!! (ᵔヮᵔ) and theb Yellowfang tells them that brorkenstar SUCKS!!!!! And he's been making kits into apprenstices at just 3 MOONS OLD!!! Which is half of what they're meant to be!!! (⇀‸↼‶) he framed Yellowfang for the murder of Brightflower's kits and that's why she got exiled!!
So then ThunderClan teams up with some older warriors from ShadowClan who also got kicked out by brokenstar, and they raid the ShadowClan camp!!!! (っ>⁠o⁠<⁠c) Brokenstar says that HE killed Brightflower's kits AND Raggedstar, the old ShadowClan leader and HIS OWN FATHER!!! So they drive out Broakenstar and teh cat s who agreed with him using the POWER OF FRIENDSHIP and then tehy get the kits back!!! WOOHOO!!! ✧⁠\⁠(⁠^ワ^)⁠ノ⁠✧
Firepaw tells Tigerclaw and everyone else that Ravempaw died because it's not safe for him, and that Clawface took the kits. And Bluestar invites Yellowfang to officially join the clan as the medicine cat!!!
And then, finally... Firepaw gets his WARRIOR NAME!!! \(^ヮ^)/ Graypaw becomes Graystripe, and he becomes Fireheart!!! o(^ワ^)o
And THAT'S the first book!!! Oh, uh... wow, that's really long...! Uh!! Read warrior cats!!!
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You know what.. I have a feeling I have to get this out of my chest before big announcements (renewal as I belive it should or the other word that should not be named). I really think this show and especially show runners got us a big deal. First season was exceptional not even gonna talk about this one. Like everything that was said and done and.. Like I literally have no words because I remember when I first decided to give warrior nun s1 a chance (don't get me wrong but the title.. It sounds so freaking funny, dumb, interesting and unbelievable at the same time😅.. For someone who has no idea) I fell in love with it.. So much..with every aspect of the series
It was my comfort show since the first time I watched it, and I belive it will be after whatever news we get in the next weeks.. Just the concept of the show, characters, the way it was filmed, scenes, aesthetic, cinematography, action! EvERYTHING is so great it hurts
Anyway to the point (getting sentimental here sorry)
In s2 they gave us everything they could (whole team of WN) and I mean it, if you watched season 2 you know what I'm talking about. Not just the facts (the fanfic tropes, amazing moments, fight scenes, real characters - which none of them were forced-everything feels so natural! Like backstories? None of them was like straight forward.. Like this character is like this because this and this happened in their life, no. They gave us space, entire warrior nun team gave us space(our own fictional world we can create) to only imagine what happened in-between. I cannot appreciate and thank them enough.
To the point again.. Even if (I pray to God/Netflix for not doing this to us) we.. I don't want to say it.. If the end of the season two is all we get.. We have so much space, by we I mean fans, writers, artists and so on.. To make the most of it (hyperbole) I think in the way the writers team prepared for it-for us as well. The hell! Simon even fought for the after credit scene because he could not let the fans hanging in the unknown. So they've tried to make the best they could.
So with this statement (which is propoably the longest I've ever made) I beg you not to compare avatrice with clexa because trust me I've been there when it happened and it's not the same. Not the Bury your gays trope nor the love story. (not bubbling here. I'm still carrying this fucking pain with me).
With this afrer credit scene they gave us hope they gave us so many stories we can carry on with.. even if it's not on screen.
So with this confusing pep talk I want you to carry on- make art, write fanfiction and so on..
Warrior nun team- They gave us all they could and even more
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