#The file name for this is ''first old man of the new year''

[hrokkall]

Bestial

#Inscryption #Inscryption Fanart #Leshy #Leshy Inscryption #Inscryption Leshy #You'd think I'd know how to tag him by now #The file name for this is ''first old man of the new year'' #So anyway happy new year here's the same thing as always <3 #Hrokkall Art

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You get a call from your mother regarding your match. You are nervous to meet them, but they turn out to be a pleasant surprise.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI (no others for this chapter)

Word count: 4.1k (damn thats a lot for me)

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there.

A/n: Yo Yo Yo whatup. New fic dropping. This one is black/poc coded but anyone can read. I haven't seen any poc coded cod fics just yet (if you know any send them my way). If you do not like Omegaverse fics please do not read. Also I tried making a cute little mood board, i think it sucks but I tried my best. Konig art credit. (I couldn't find the art credit for the girl). König and reader are neurospicy. I got inspired to do an Apex Alpha König from @ghostlythunderbird go give them some love please. Also this is kinda what I imagine him looking like.

Next Chapter

Chapter One:

His back ached as he climbed the few steps to his door. The passage back to his home was uncomfortable. All König wanted to do with collapse on his bed. The duplex he resided in was decent, the little old woman who rented it to him was very sweet. König had a hard time getting anyone to rent to him. His status as an Apex alpha was concerning for most people. They believed him to be violent and inconsiderate. His landlord is an omega that lives with her alpha mate. König managed to convince her. She thought he was sweet and kind. He opened the foyer door that lead to both apartments. He glanced at the mailbox, wondering if he should wait until morning. Begrudgingly, he took out the small mailbox key and fiddled the metal box open. He grabbed the plethora of mail and closed the box gently. The box was filled up quite a bit as he had not been home in a couple of weeks. 

Heading up the stairs he filed through the mail. Most were junk coupons and magazines, some were credit card sign-up letters. One envelope caught his eye. It had no company name just a large white manila envelope addressed to him. He opened his door and stepped inside placing the mail and his belongings on his couch. He ripped open the envelope and took out a thin book. It had the circular logo of the AOMO, the Alpha Omega Match organization. 

König started at the cover his heartbeat sped up the longer he thought about it. He signed up for the program after a particularly hard mission he had in KorTac. He left and joined the 141 and decided he wanted an omega. A lot of the men in the 141 had partners they could come home to. König wanted that. Most people were too afraid to be in a committed relationship with him. König often settled for one-night stands with betas but it left him feeling empty. He opened the packet to the first page.

'Congratulations!' The first word read. His heart beat harder the more he read. 

'We have found you a match!' König's heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. 

'In the plastic wrap, we've provided a fresh scent sample from your potential match. If you like the scent of your match, please send us a scent sample from you as soon as possible.' 

König gripped the packet and leaned over the table, putting his weight on the table. He took a deep breath, he felt a mix of fear and excitement. When he signed up he was not hopeful for a match. He assumed his situation was too complicated for them. He flipped through the packet before reading the rest searching for the scent sample. A plastic bag fell out onto the table. It was sealed and had a verification sticker assuring its authenticity. König picked up the bag carefully. It had a square of white fabric inside it. He took his hood off before opening the bag gingerly. The scent instantly made his knees weak. This Omega had a warm and spicy scent. Coconut and sugary vanilla with hints of sandalwood. König stuffed his nose into the bag inhaling the deep rich smell of this Omega. 

König sealed the scent sample wanting to savor it. He opened the packet back up to the first page. It said once he mailed his scent sample and was approved by his match, they would arrange a meeting with him and his match. There was more information about this Omega and their family along with the reasoning for them picking them. They informed him that this omega was a twenty-six-year-old female. Her father is also an Apex Alpha, he is retired American military. They did not provide a picture of any matches because they wanted the connection to be based on instinct rather than looks. Her mother is an Omega that works as a teacher. There is not much else about the Omega but, König is hopeful. He reads the instructions to send his scent sample. They provided a kit with a form envelope, a small square of fabric, and a plastic bag, almost identical to the one he received from his match. 

'Wash your hands, and rinse any dirt off of your scent glands.'

'Then remove the fabric from the plastic.'

'Rub the fabric on your clean scent glands for 20-25 minutes.'

'Seal the fabric thoroughly in the bag provided .'

He shed his vest and protective gear, the last thing he wanted was for her to smell dust and gunpowder on him. König tried to quell his excitement as he followed the directions. Rushing to his bathroom and then back to his dining room. The fabric square was slightly smaller than his palm. He cupped the crook of his neck, sandwiching the fabric between his hand and his neck. He rubbed gently filling it with his scent. He read the rest of the packet as he rubbed. The rest was mostly semantics about the company and its policies. He combed it a few more times trying to memorize every piece of information about his Omega. 

König smiled gently, he shouldn't think of her as his yet. She smelled so good, too good for him. He smelled the cloth every once in a while to ensure his scent was potent enough. When he was done he placed it in the bag and sealed it. He filled out the form and packed the pre-paid envelope neatly. He grabbed his keys and left his apartment to go to the mail drop-off on the corner of the block. He needed to send it today, he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't. He walked back to his apartment having long forgotten about his back pain. 

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

You looked at the list on your phone pushing your shopping cart. Buying the week's groceries had fallen to you this time as your mother was dealing with state testing for her students and your dad was on a hunting trip. You maneuvered the isles expertly collecting the items on your list. As well as some extra sweet snacks you like to indulge in much to our mother's chagrin. You were about to put a pack of Oreos in the cart when your mom called.

“Hello?” You answered but all you can hear was excited screeching. You held the phone away from your ear until she quieted down. 

“He accepted you!!!” She screamed. 

“What? Mom, you're too loud.” 

“The match company! The match they picked liked your scent.” She giggled. 

You were slightly stunned. Your parents signed you up for the AOMO when you were eighteen. You weren't that on board with it but you let them. You know they only want the best for you. You kept sending scent samples every year but they never got back to you about anything. Now, six years later they show up with a match for you. 

“I just got the call, they're sending a scent sample for you right now it's gonna get here in a few days.” 

“Wow...” That was all you managed to say. 

“Now I know this wasn't your ideal way to meet someone, but just please be open-minded sweetheart.” 

You sighed. “I will. I'm finishing up at the grocery and I'll head home.”

“Alright, I'm gonna be home soon too, bye sweetie.” 

You hung up the phone and stood in the aisle. You placed the pack of Oreos in the cart and moved to get the rest of the items before checking out. 

When you arrived home your mother was there waiting. She squealed and hugged you before helping you take the grocery bags inside. 

“I am so excited for you! I have heard so many good things about the AOMO. I bet whoever they picked is gonna be great.”

“Let's hope.” You say. 

The next few days went by quickly. You dove into writing your next few chapters to take your mind off of the match. The sequel to your best-selling fantasy novel was underway. Your days consisted of writing, planning, engaging with fans, and talking to your editor. You typed out the outline for the next few chapters when you heard a knock. 

“Come in.” You said. 

Your mother walked in holding a large envelope. “Guess what came today?” She said excitedly. 

 Your heart thumped with anxiety. She placed the envelope on your desk.

“I’ll leave you to it, let me know if you like them.” She sauntered out of the room happily. 

You picked up the envelope and opened it pulling out a packet of information. You flipped to the first page. 

‘Congratulations!’ It read. 

‘The match we have chosen for you wants to meet you. Once you contact us with your acceptance of their scent, we will arrange for them to meet you and your family with the chaperone of one AOMO agents to facilitate. The two of you will go on a date and get to know each other before deciding whether to move forward. If you do not accept the scent, we will put you back in our database to be matched with someone else.’ 

In the middle of the pages, there was a plastic bag with a white cloth in it. You picked it up and sighed. You doubted you would like the scent. Most alphas were off-putting to you, either way too strong of a scent of they smelled like dishwater. You opened the bag casually and took a whiff. Your inner Omega preened at the musk that erupted from the bag. 

“Oh my…” You inhaled deeply. 

This Alpha…smelled good? He smelled like chocolate and dark roast espresso. There were some hints of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. You caught yourself before you got lost in his scent. You sealed the bag up and took a breath. Maybe, this would be a good experience for you. You scanned through the rest of the information looking over what little they provide about this Alpha. He is a male Alpha, non-American but they did not specify what country. The only other thing they said about him was that his demeanor was shy and that he is military. The instructions said to call the number if you wanted to meet him. You reached for your phone a little too eagerly and dialed the number. A woman’s voice answered.

“Hi, you’ve reached the Alpha Omega Match organization how may I help you?”

“Hi, um I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail, and I want to meet him.” You said awkwardly.

“What’s your name and date of birth?” You told her, nervously. 

“Please hold while I transfer you.” 

The light piano hold music came on, you fidgeted with your sleeve. 

“This is Kara, how may I help you?”

“Oh hi, I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail and I would like to meet him.”

“Alright, let me get your file from reception she’s sending it right now…Ah got it. Oooh ok great I am your agent that will be facilitating this meeting. Your parents will want to meet him yes?”

“Definitely.”

“Ok so, what we will do is you and your parents will meet me at a public space of your choice then. I will bring you to meet the Alpha first, then your parents. We like to keep parent meetings brief as they tend to try and challenge the Alpha. I will have you know, this Alpha is an Apex like your dad. That is one of the reasons we chose you as his match, you have experience with an Apex. Will you be comfortable with all that?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Your head was reeling from all this information. Great, I see you guys are in New York City which is one of my favorite places to visit. Do you have anywhere in mind to meet?” 

“Um, we could do the Highline, there’s food, and it's pretty.” 

“Oh, that’s a great idea let me write it down here. How does September ninth at noon sound to you? A weekday so there are not too many people.” 

Your heart jumped, that’s in two days.

“Uh, sure.” 

“Alright, I will send you a follow-up email regarding our plans all you need to do is confirm. Your match will be notified, and his flight will be booked as soon as we receive confirmation. Do you have any other questions?” 

“No not at the moment.” 

“Ok, don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any concerns. I will see you in a few days.” 

“Bye.” 

You put your phone on your desk and walked out of your room. Your mother was standing a few feet away from your door. When she noticed you, her face lit up.

“So? How was the scent? Are you meeting them?” 

You smiled and nodded “Yup, in two days.” 

She squealed and captured you in a bone-crushing hug.

“I can’t wait! Let’s go tell your father!” She practically ran down the hall. 

You walked to your living room where your otherwise stoic-looking dad was watching TV. 

“Tell us about them, sweetheart.” Your mother said. Your dad turned the volume on the TV down and looked at you expectantly.

“Well, I don’t know much but, I know he’s not American and that he might be shy…He smells good.” 

“That’s important, I hope you wouldn’t pick someone who smells like shit.” Your dad chimed in. 

“He’s also military, and an Apex.” You added quickly. 

Your mother gasped quietly, and your father raised his eyebrows.

“Now that’s intriguing.” Your mom said smiling.

“You already booked a meeting with him?” Your dad asked. You nodded. 

“You should’ve asked me first.” He pinched his nose bridge in annoyance. 

“Well, he’s my match and I wanted to meet him.”

“Apex Alphas are dangerous. I would know.”

“Oh, please honey it’ll be fine.” Your mother ridiculed him.

“It’s my choice, Dad. You guys are the ones who signed up, I finally got a match, so I want to see it through. If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll call it off.”

Your father growled lowly. “Fine.”

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

Your mother insisted to dress you in a cutesy outfit, so you let her have her moment. She dressed you in a dark floral dress that hugged your curves just right. She added dainty jewelry along with your protective collar. You didn’t usually wear it but again, she insisted. She did your hair half up half down. Your dad was waiting by the front door with your mom’s purse in hand. 

The train ride there was silent, your mother looked utterly content while your father was peeved about this whole situation. You arrived at the station and walked to the Highline. You got a text from Kara telling you what she looked like and where she was. She was wearing a dark blue pencil skirt and a white blouse. She stood up as you and your family approached. You stuck your hand out to shake hers.

“Nice to meet you guys, come sit.” She said motioning to the bench she was on. 

Your father stayed standing while you and your mother took a seat next to her. 

“So, there are some things I want to go over with you all and then I’ll talk to you privately and do the official meeting ok?”

“He’s here?” You said in an almost panicked tone.

Kara chuckled. “He is here but I left him to wait somewhere out of sight for now.”

She continued. “His name is König, he was born in Austria. When we did his psyche and personality evaluations, we found that he has neurodivergent tendencies, like you. Our matches with people that have a similar way of communicating have gone well.”

“Wait, neurodivergent?” Your mom chimed in. 

“Yes, your daughter did show signs of some behavioral abnormalities, but she is high functioning.”

“I told you that Mom.” You say giving her a deadpan look. Your mother looked down and gave a small ‘hmm’. Kara continued. 

“He does struggle with social anxiety so please be patient with him. Other than that, he currently lives in Amsterdam, if you choose to go forward that is where you will live.”

Your dad finally spoke “Is Amsterdam safe for people like us?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh yes, Amsterdam has many people from different places and backgrounds. It is one of the most popular immigration and tourist countries, don’t worry.”

“Alright, how about you come with me, and we’ll get your meeting started.”

Kara led you away, you turned and did a small wave to your parents your mom smiled back at you warmly. 

“So, I will be in contact with you the whole time. If you want to go just say the word, I am never going to be more than a couple minutes away. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll have any issues with him.” 

She led you to a restaurant below the high line, it had indoor and outdoor seating. There were a lot of people laughing and drinking. Your heartbeat sped up as you scanned the crowd. The scent of food entered your nose. Everyone’s scent in the dining area mixed into an indescribable concoction. Among the borderline overwhelming smells, you got a hint of something familiar, espresso. 

You scanned the large room trying to pinpoint where it was coming from or if you were just imagining it. I dark figure near the corner of the room caught your eye. He looked way too large for the chair he was sitting in. He was looking down at his hands, dirty blonde hair covered his forehead. He was wearing a black cloth mask along with a form-fitting black shirt. As soon as you walked in he raised his head. You looked away pretending you weren't staring at him. Kara led you straight to his table.

“This is König.” She gestured to him. 

He stood up to shake your hand still keeping himself hunched at the waist to appear smaller. You shook his hand and smiled as you introduced yourself. He nodded and said a small 'hmm' to acknowledge you. 

“Alright, I'll be near. Have fun.” Kara left swiftly.

You sat down in the chair across from him as he did the same. A wave of anxiety came as you did, not knowing how to break the ice with him. You picked up the menu and scanned it.

“Did you order yet?” You ask.

“No, I was waiting for you.”

“Well thank you, what looks good?” 

“The Steak frites look pretty good.” He glued his menu.

“I'm excited for dessert, they have chocolate cheesecake.”

He chuckled and it made your stomach flip.

“You like sweets?” He asked.

“Very much.” You smile at him. 

The waitress came over and asked if you wanted any drinks. König looked at you, waiting for you to order first. 

“I'll try the elderberry gin and tonic.” You said.

 Konig was about to order when the table next to us erupted in loud laughter. He jumped slightly before answering the waitress. 

“I'll get the house Lager.” He said. 

The waitress left to grab the drinks. The adjacent table was still very loud. The group of friends hollering and screaming obviously day drunk. Konig had his head slightly turned away from them in an attempt to lessen the noise. It was subtle but you could tell. You reached into your bag and brought out a pair of foldable headphones. You turned on the noise cancellation and gave them to him. He looked slightly confused. 

“Put them on.” You encourage him. 

When he did the noise muffled and the restaurant was much quieter. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease by the second. His scent sweetened

“Is that better? Can you hear me ok?” 

König swears he could've kissed you right then and there, but he settles on a nod. 

“Thank you, Leibe.” 

“No problem.”

The waitress came by with the drinks and asked if the two of you are ready to order entrees. You ordered the fish and König ordered the Steak. While you waited, you two had a pleasant small talk about his flight and how he is enjoying his visit. He hesitated to take off his mask at first so you focused on your menu to give him the space to be comfortable with you. You glanced up and took in his face. He was beautiful, he had scars on his face that added ruggedness to his chiseled features. König noticed your scent amplify as you gazed at him. His inner alpha pushed him to be closer, to know more about you.

“So, you're in the military?” 

He nods. “I work for a military contractor. Do you work?”

“Sort of, I'm an author so I work from home.”

“That is nice, are you published?” König was secretly very happy he'd get to have you at home all day. 

“Yes, I am. I'm working on my sequel right now. Do you like to read? Or, do you read in German?” 

He chuckled. “I have not had much time to read lately, but I will now.”

“Well, you have to buy my book of course.” You giggled. 

König nearly fell off his chair at the sound. This Omega was everything he wanted. He prayed to whatever god was up there that you felt something with him. By the time the food came you both fell into a comfortable rhythm. He asked about your childhood and hobbies. It was a change of pace, most Alphas are very self-centered, but he is putting effort into getting to know you. The food came out and you both ate. He offered bites of his food for you to try which you happily returned the favor. By the time you finished your food, you hadn't noticed how much time has gone by. Kara texted you to check-in. 

'Hey, so I saw things were going well so I let you guys talk for an hour and a half but, your parents are getting antsy. Are you guys ready to see your parents?' 

“Oh, Kara is asking if we're ready to see my parents.” 

König fiddled with his fork. “I'm ready.” 

He paid the bill and you both left the restaurant. You took in the full size of the Alpha you matched with. He was no less than a giant. He held the door for you but stopped before he walked through. 

“I forgot something, I'll be back.” He walked back into the restaurant. 

Kara walked up to you. “How did it go?” 

“I...really like him...”

“I know, that feeling is scary. I think you guys are a wonderful match.”

König came out holding a small to-go box. He handed it to you, you could tell he was smiling under his mask. 

“What's this?”

Inside the box was a slice of chocolate cheesecake and a fork.

“We forgot to order dessert.” 

You were stunned, you didn't think there could be Alphas that were so thoughtful. Your inner Omega soared, this Alpha was courting you so well. 

“Thank you, König, that's really sweet.” 

“Ah, here they are.” Kara said. 

Your parents walked up to the three of you. Your mother had a surprised but happy look on her face. Your father kept his deadpan face from earlier, not a good sign. 

“Wow, sweetheart you caught a big one!” Your mom chuckled. 

“Parents, this is König.” Kara said. 

Your mother introduced herself and your father as he stood there sizing up the taller Apex. 

“Alright, let's keep things brief parents do you have any questions for König?”

“Well, as long as she likes him I don't.” Your mother said. 

“Can you protect her?” Your dad asked putting some venom behind his words. 

“I would never let anything happen to her sir. You have my word.” König answered without hesitation. 

Your dad nodded and looked at you. “You like him?”

“...Yeah I do.” 

“Alright then, that's all that matters.” 

“Well, I think it's safe to say that the match is made. I will contact you for the next steps. Parents, let's let them say goodbye.” Kara led your parents away.

You turned to König. “Thank you for meeting with me, I had a really good time.” You saw a faint blush at the top of his mask. 

“I also had a good time, liebe.” 

“What does that mean?”

“Ah...it means love.” 

“Oh well...” You motioned for him to come bend down close to you.

When he got close enough you pecked his cheek. 

“I'll see you soon, love.” 

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig fluff #omegaverse #omega reader #alpha konig #cod mwii fanfic #cod mwii #a/b/o fic #tw a/b/o #call of duty #call of duty fic #call of duty mwii #call of duty fanfic #könig #könig x y/n #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig modern warfare #könig fanfiction

[miniwheat77]

Addict. (Nympho!Reader x König.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, reader is a nympho, slight switch!König, unprotected sex, p in v sex, MINORS DNI YOU’VE BEEN WARNED. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Summary: Nymphomaniac!Reader who has been unable to control her sexual urges, deciding to join the military with the hopes that the battlefield will calm her desire. Only to be put on the same base as König. *not edited*

“Y/N…”

Their words cut through you like a knife, it’s not something you ever thought you would hear. Your knee bounces uncontrollably. Just as it did in the doctors office that day.

Your gloved hands squeezed each other a little too hard.

“We think that you have something else going on.”

“What do you mean?”

Your innocent, 18 year-old self said, unaware of what awaited you.

“We think that.. the way you feel. The intense urges that you get, excessive desire. Everything you’ve described to us. We’re concerned that it may be Nymphomania.”

Your eyes widened, of course you’d heard of it before. “But I’ve never even had sex? How is that possible?”

“It doesn’t have to be physical. It’s excessive sexual desire, you told us you think about sex 24/7, concerned that it may be a sex hormone off in your body. But your hormones are fine. This is the only other explanation.” He tries to explain to you. You don’t want to hear it. “I’ve written you a referral to a therapist that deals with this kind’ve thing. I think that you should start seeing her regularly. So that you can keep this under control.”

You nodded your head, taking the note from his hands. As you left the office that day, you were nervous that everyone was looking at you.

Your doctor couldn’t have been more wrong. Because it wasn’t too long after that when you spiraled right out of control.

Your knee bounced relentlessly as you sat across from a couple of the other new recruits. Your hands were sweating profusely. You hoped that this would help. Prayed that it would bring you out of it. You thought maybe if you spent all of your time on the battlefield, fighting for your life, maybe it would go away. Maybe the urges would go away.

You had no idea what, or who, awaited you at your new base.

The helicopter came to a stop, and everyone inside awaited orders. Hearing a loud accented voice pierce through the radio. Right down to your core. You took in a deep breath, clenching your legs together.

Please let this work.

The ramp slowly began to lower and you awaited orders. “Alright, everyone off.” You all stood up, filing off of the helicopter. Your legs were already jello from the ride, but were even worse with the heat pooling between them. “Alright. Everyone, this is your new Colonel. This is his base, you’ll listen and take orders from him now.” You heard the man who’d brought you hear announce.

“His name is König.”

You looked up, eyes starting at his boots. Trailing up his body. You swallowed hard, his height never ending.

He’s huge, tall, massive. His hands are big, you can tell even through the gloves he had on, his hood left little to the eyes of his face, except for his piercing eyes. “Nice to meet you all.” He’s the one with the accent. You actually gulp.

You were fucked. Royally and not in a good way, fucked.

—

You avoided your Colonel like he was the plague. He was able to introduce himself to everyone, except for you. He caught on pretty quickly that you were avoiding him, for what reason? He had no idea. Maybe you were nervous, maybe he intimidated you. He had no idea. So he decided to put the both of you up in the watch tower for a couple hours. He thought maybe if you got to know him, your ways would change. Maybe you would be more comfortable around him.

He was up there first. Standing with his back to the door. He was mixing his cup of coffee, the coffee pot in the watch tower being the best idea a new recruit had had yet. You walked through the door and your eyes went wide, freezing right where you stood. He turned around upon hearing the door open, smiling even though you couldn’t see it. “Hi, Kaffee?” He says. He is so kind. Your brain thinks at a mile a minute. “Uh.. Hey. No thank you Colonel.” You nod. Closing the door behind you. For the next couple of hours, you were stuck. Stuck in this god forsaken watch tower with the most tempting human being you’ve met this far.

You sit in the chair furthest away from him, and he notices it. He moves a little closer to you, and watches you visibly swallow hard. “Do I scare you, Häschen?” He asks. Standing up and sitting next to you. He sees the visible confusion on your face. Unsure of what he’s just called you. “Sorry, Bunny. It means Bunny.” He laughs. “N-no. You don’t scare me. I’m just a little awkward because everything is new here.” You swallow hard. You can feel something building in your lower stomach. You’ve never felt this before, unsure of what it is. It feels familiar, but how?

“Oh. There’s nothing to be worried about. My men will welcome you with open arms, me too.” He says, reaching his hand out. He place it in your thigh, and you let out a silent hiss. It’s been months since a man had touched you, and you’d done so good. You want to fall apart. Force the massive man back and ride his cock until neither of you can breathe, but you made a promise to yourself. “Are you feeling okay? You seem pale.” He squeezes your thigh lightly. Right there is where you’re done. You clench your eyes closed, the knot thats formed in your stomach, wound up so tight. It snaps, and an orgasm pulses through you. Your eyes widen and you jump up. “S-sorry. I don’t feel well.” You mumble. He stands up too. “That’s okay. You can go rest up, I’ve got this. Just relax häschen, get some rest.” He mumbles.

Sometimes new recruits had a harder time adjusting, that’s what he assumed was going on.

Later that night, he decides to take a look into your file. There’s not too much information, other than a diagnosis he found buried within the papers. All of that time you spent training well. Building up your file to look good, being the perfect soldier. It was all to hide that one paper.

And your new Colonel had just come across it. His eyes widened as he read across the page. It was an explanation for everything. Your actions, the way you avoided him. But you only seemed to fuel the burning fire inside of himself. He was usually good at controlling himself, but he’d also not been around women in ages, the last time he’d been with one had been a few years back. His track record wasn’t always the best either. Becoming someone so high up in the military really helped with his image and helped him stay on track, he knows that’s probably what you were doing too.

He can’t seem to stop his feet as they carry him to your room. He’s got the paper in hand. He knocks at your door and you open it up. “We need to talk, Häschen.” His a voice is deeper than usual, stern. You step back, allowing him inside. You see the paper in his hands and look in confusion. Wondering what this was about. “Yes sir. Is something w-wrong?” You sit on the edge of your bed, hands fidgeting nervously. “so ein ungezogenes Mädchen.” He shakes his head. You don’t understand him. “I’m sorry?”

“Found this in your file.” He passes the paper to you. You swallow hard as you read across the page. “I…” you stutter. He closes the door behind himself. “Maybe this is something you should talk with your Colonel about before settling in too much.” He mumbles. “I- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just.. I wanted to be normal.” The tears start streaming down your face and he almost feels bad for coming at you from the left field like this. Unbeknownst to you he was here to help, like a good Colonel would. “I thought that this would help, but it only made it worse. I’ll understand if you want me off of your base, I can pack my stuff.” You sniffle. Wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your long sleeve shirt. Hearing him laugh. You look up at him in confusion. He moves closer to you, kneeling down until his face is level with yours. Cupping your chin with his gloved hand. Wiping your tears with his thumb. “Liebling.” His voice is soft. “I’m not here to kick you off my base.” He laughs. “I’m here to help you.” He breathes. “Y-you are?” You sniffle again. “Mhm. I’ve got an idea, maybe something that will help.” He lifts your chin to look at him. “Only if you’re up for it, Süßes Mädchen.” He smiles.

He can see you melting into his touch. “Okay.” You nod.

He reached for his belt, seeing your eyes widen. “Wait- I’ve been clean. I haven’t done anything.” You shake your head. “You trust me?” He asks. Lifting your chin again. You nod your head. “We can get you addicted to me. You’ll be a good soldier and follow my orders, okay?” You nod your head. “From now on, you’re only allowed to be with me.” He forces your face up to look at him.

“Verstehst du?” You nod your head, you’ve heard that one before.

“Good girl.”

He continues to work at his belt. His large, gloved hands tugging his cock from its restraint. He’s massive.

The biggest you’ve seen. Nervousness flows through you. “Lay back.” He nods. You listen to him immediately. Obeying him without a complaint. He tugs your pants down your legs, exposing you to him completely. Hearing him groan at the sight of you. He moves himself on top of you. “I’ll make you think only of me. Nur von mir.” He growls. He presses himself at your entrance, and your eyes widen, staring up at him. You’re done for.

When he pushes inside, you fall apart. A moan leaving your lips, he clamps a hand over your mouth, laughing. “Relax.” He chuckles. “I’m sorry- I can’t.” You gasp.

“It’s okay.” He breathe, pushing deeper into you, seeing your eyes twitch as they roll back. You’re feeling so good. “Why did you leave in such a rush?” He asks.

Your voice is unsteady as he rocks his hips into yours, letting you get used to his massive size. “I.. your hand on my thigh. It felt too good, I couldn’t control myself.” You moan. “So ein böses Mädchen.” He mumbles. “Come on. Put these on.” He groans as he slides out of you, hearing you whine at the loss of him. “W-what?”

“We’re going somewhere no one can hear us.” He breathes. Zipping his jeans. You quickly put on your pajama pants again, following him down the hallway quickly. You’re much shorter than the massive man, trying to keep up with him. You speedwalk after him, his normal pace seeming hard to keep up with. He leads you out to a Humvee, making sure it’s a blind spot before opening the door for you. The cameras don’t need to see what he’s about to do to you.

“Here?” You ask, nervously. “Yes. Climb in.” He nods. You nod your head, not willing to disobey your Colonel. You’ve seen him angry.

He stares at your ass as you climb into the back seat of the humvee, and you wait on the seat. He climbs in after you, hunched over to avoid hitting his head as he reaches behind himself to shut the door. You can’t help but giggle at him. He’s too tall for the massive car even. “Something funny?” He rolls his eyes. ���No sir.” You mumble. He moves himself between the two seats. “Thought so. Now get over here.” He nods to his lap. You quickly pull your pants back off once again. Moving yourself into his lap. He’s already got his cock out once again. Helping hold you up as you lower yourself into him. Your body shivers as you feel him seeping into your begging opening. He’s so big.

You whine out as he stretches you, more than you’ve ever taken before. You cry out when you rest yourself on him completely, feeling so full of him. You give yourself a minute to rest. Despite how much you’ve done this, you knew when to give your body time to adjust. It’s like the time bomb in your stomach starts ticking. That high that you’ve chased for so long is right at the end of this. You start to rock your hips back and fourth, feeling him gliding through your folds. You’re slick already, soaking wet for him. You moan out, resting you hands on his toned chest. Hearing him start to pant as you move against him.

The countdown starts, that same one in your subconscious, ready to fly back to that sub space you’re all too familiar with. You’ve missed this, missed that high. The more you move against him, feeling every inch of him, the louder you’re getting. He’s breathing hard as you start to fuck yourself on his cock, bouncing up and down onto him. He can’t help himself. He holds himself back from thrusting up into you, clutching hard at the seat. He finally lets himself rest, laying back. He grasps the hem of your shirt, pulling it up your torso and over your head, revealing all of you to him.

If someone told him a few hours ago, up in that watch tower that in a few short hours you’d be bouncing on his cock, he’d call them a liar.

He groans slightly, a gasp catching in his throat. You’re wet, he can see the ring of your arousal forming at the base of his cock. “F-fuck. Yes.” He breathes.

“Yes- yes Liebling. Yes! Use me.” He gasps.

You look down at him, and he can see the devil igniting in your eyes, he was done for.

His thighs are sticky from your arousal, absolutely drenching him. His skin sticks to yours with each rise of your hips, the squelch from his cock slipping into your soaked pussy is lewd. The muscles in his stomach contract, you’re reeling him in. He’ll be addicted to you too soon enough. “F-fuck. Du bist so gut, bitte benutze mich.” he cries. Eyes getting watery as you ride him. He starts to mumble more in German, you can’t understand it but he’s chanting something. He’s getting close. “Can’t take it.” He gasps. Wrapping his arms around your waist, thrusting up into you. His pace is rough, his skin meets yours with a loud slapping sound, his brutal thrusts working you closer and closer to pure bliss.

It’s right there. So close.

Your body shakes as you cum. It’s unexpected and so soon, feeling his cock twitch as he keeps his steady pace. Your thighs shiver violently on him, he finally lets out one last cry, your eyes widening as you feel him emptying himself inside of you. Filling you up completely. He lets his head fall back, panting hard as you stay on him. You rest your face onto the seat, skin flushed red and sweaty. It’s the first time you’ve ever been satisfied with just one round.

Your legs rest as you allow yourself to relax over him, keeping his big cock nestled inside of you. It’s a lot, it’s no wonder you didn’t last.

He looks up at you, eyes gleaming from the moonlight and you can’t help but blush. This feeling you feel, it’s different.

You stay there for a few minutes, cockwarming him. When you finally raise your hips up, you can’t help but smile at the gasp he lets out. “Fuck-“ he growls. The loss of you clenching around him makes him feel cold. You redress yourself, taking the waddle of shame back to your room so that you can clean yourself. König lagging behind a bit to see the way you flinch. He can’t help but laugh. Once you’re both cleaned up, you’re sitting on your bed again.

Something is different, almost contentment. You don’t feel the urge to jump his bones as he sits in front of you. Sure, that ache will come back. That arousal for him, will surely be back.

But it’s a nice break, to be soothed into normality. Something you’ve never felt before. Maybe somehow, your new Colonel would be your saving grace. You’d just have to find out in the morning.

Exactly how much of him would you need to feel completely normal?

#könig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig smut #könig #könig modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

[daisynik7]

Hi are you still doing song requests? If so can you do Make You Feel My Love by Adele for Toji? 🥹 please and thank you ☺️

Make You Feel My Love

Part Two to Photograph

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

cw: fluff, explicit language, basically all fluff lol

Summary: Toji Fushiguro is nothing like his previous self. He’s become hardened, almost completely desensitized through the years, being used and abused by his own family, the Zenin clan. After the loss of his first wife, Toji takes his son and decides to finally run away to the only place where he can feel like his true self again: home. There, he reunites with a familiar face. 

Author’s Notes: Thank you for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I thought it’d be perfect as a continuation to this story. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. Divider credits to @/cafekitsune.

“Zenin?”

Your voice is soft, almost breathless, when you utter his name as he stands between the door frame of your classroom, hands in his pockets, a shy expression on his face. “Uh, yeah. It’s me. I go by Fushiguro now.” 

You look between him and Megumi, spotting the similarities instantly. The jet-black hair, the same-colored eyes, almost identical facial structure. A spitting image of his father, who stands before you, much bigger than when you last saw him, but certainly the same boy who’s grown into a man. There isn’t time to catch up as your students file in, greeting their new classmate politely at his desk. Toji clears his throat, stepping aside to make room for the kids to walk in. “I’ll be back later to pick up the kid, if you want to catch up.”

The kid. You hide your giggles, pleased to hear that he still sounds like the same Toji you knew many years ago. His eyes light up at your laughter; he doesn’t remember the last time he heard a genuine one like yours. Sweet, pure, and music to his ears. 

The bell rings, and that’s his cue to leave. There isn’t much to do throughout the day, considering he is now unemployed. He’s tempted to resort to old habits and head to the racetrack to gamble on horses, but instead, he goes to the public library to use a computer, searching for job openings around the area. The day passes quickly and it’s time for him to pick up Megumi. He waits outside, watching as all the other children run towards their parents, most of whom eye him with wary expressions. He’s gotten used to lingering glances like this, aware of his intimidating presence. It doesn’t bother him anymore; he’s used to being seen as some sort of monster. And with what he’s done during his life as a Zenin, maybe he is. 

Megumi is the last outside, hand-in-hand with you, his teacher. You both give him a wave, your eyes twinkling with kindness and a bright smile. You’re the only one who looks at Toji like this. The only one who sees him as human. When you approach him, he places his hand on Megumi’s head, ruffling his hair. “How was it?” 

His son grins, giving his father a thumbs up. 

“You made some new friends, right Megumi?” you say, squeezing his hand. “What are their names?”

In his squeaky voice, he replies, “Yuji and Nobara.”

Toji smirks. “Friends already? That’s great, bud. I knew you’d like it here.” 

Megumi lets go of you, holding onto his dad’s wrist. “Yuji said he’s getting ice cream down the street with his grandpa. Can we go too?”

“Of course,” Toji responds. He looks to you, tipping his head to the side. “Want to join us?”

~~~

You’re sitting in a booth across from the Fushiguros, who share the biggest chocolate fudge sundae they could order off the menu. Eventually, Megumi spots his new pink-haired friend and asks if they can play at the mini arcade together in the back of the shop, to which Toji agrees, passing him money. Now, you’re alone with him, hundreds of questions you want to ask, but are too nervous to. You sip on your milkshake, unsure where to begin. 

Fortunately, he speaks first. “Did you stay in Tokyo this entire time?” 

You shake your head. “I went to university overseas, then I moved back.”

“Overseas, huh? Sounds fun,” he muses, scooping a big bite into his mouth. 

“How about you? Where did you go?” The last memory you have of him is the distraught look on his face, after you shared a kiss together. The next day, he was gone. 

He licks the back of his spoon, collecting all the chocolate off. “Here and there. But mostly there.”

“You were still in Tokyo?” You try not to sound outraged. Deep down, you’re hurt by the way the two of you parted. And if he was truly here all along, you’re even more upset, knowing he had all this time to apologize. Years and years, you wondered if all the little moments you shared together were just that, or something more. Even now, finally meeting him in the flesh, you’re uncertain where you stand with him. 

He senses your uneasiness, sitting up straight to explain. “The Zenins relocated to a more remote location up in the mountains in order to carry out their dirty deeds. I dropped out of school and started working full time as their lackey. I was often sent to Tokyo for duties.” He spreads his fingers, presenting his hands towards you, calloused and scarred from overwork and guilt. “I’ve done things that I am not proud of. Hurt people that didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want to do it, but at the time, I had no other choice.”

You listen to him intently, sipping on your milkshake slowly, giving him your undivided attention as he continues his story. 

“Me and Megumi’s mom had an arranged marriage. The Zenins wanted me to produce an heir once my father’s health started to decline. She was a kind woman, the closest thing I had to an escape. But still, the both of us were trapped. It didn’t matter that we had each other; we were both under the wills of our families.”

“After a few months of trying, she got pregnant. Our lives felt normal during this time. Like we were a regular family. Me, her, Megumi in her belly. My father left us alone. He wanted to make sure I was taking good care of her so that our son would come out strong and healthy. And he did. He was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Toji takes a deep breath, the both of you anticipating this next part. “It was a home birth, per my father’s request. I should have said something from the start, but I didn’t think anything would go wrong. After Megumi was delivered, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.” He swallows hard, throat tight with emotion. “And by the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone.”

He avoids your gaze, staring hard at the metal container filled with napkins on the side of the table. You’re tempted to reach for his hand, to offer comfort, but you decide against it, deeming it inappropriate. 

“My family couldn’t care less. All that mattered to them is that they had their new heir. They didn’t even cry when she passed away.” His jaw is clenched tight, hands in fists, trembling against the table’s surface. “Heartless bastards, all of them. I should have left with Megumi then, but I didn’t. I was a fucking coward, too scared to face the world alone. And with a little baby at that.”

“Why did you decide to finally leave?” you ask.

“They were going to start training Megumi how to fight. He’s only five-years-old, for fuck’s sake. He’s the gentlest, sweetest kid, and they want him to become like me. I didn’t want that. I don’t want Megumi to have the life I did, not if I can help it.” He unclenches his fists, relaxing into his seat, spooning whatever melted ice cream remains into his mouth. 

You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Why did you decide to come back here?”

He doesn’t respond right away, pretending to be preoccupied with the swirly mess of sweet cream in front of him. He contemplates how best to explain himself. If he admits the truth, it may come off too strong. The reason he’s returned home is because of you. The photo of you and him smiling on the beach a decade ago is in his pocket, wrinkled and faded from years of yearning. He had dreamt of this day ever since he left, hoping the next time you reunite, he’ll be free of the Zenin name. Free to do as he pleases, free to love who he wants. And now that day has come, he’s just as nervous as he expected he'd be. 

Not wanting to make a fool of himself, he says, “I know this area well. Figured it’d be a good place for us to start fresh.” 

You smile at him. “If you and Megumi ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d like to help you in any way I can.”

“Megumi is a good kid. Quiet, but good. He doesn’t give me any trouble, so he makes it easy.”

“So nothing like his father, then?” you tease, raising a brow at him.

He chuckles. “Like I said, I’ll make sure of that.”

You reach for him, resting your hand on top of his. “You’re not all bad. You’re pretty great, remember?”

Instantly, you’re taken back ten years ago, moments before that kiss. Electricity sparks between you; his hand shifts beneath yours, his palm turned up now, fingertips brushing lightly against the delicate skin of your wrist. He gazes at you, smiling. The prominent scar across his lips more titillating than it’s ever been before. “Yeah, I remember.”

Before either of you can do anything more, Megumi returns to the table, head drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. He grabs the water cup on the table, chugging it aggressively, wiping his mouth with the hem of his t-shirt, fresh from a rousing game of Dance Dance Revolution against his new best friend.

~~~

Toji picks up Megumi every single day after school. He’s adamant about it, claiming it’s important for him to spend as much time with his son as possible, something he never experienced growing up. He accepts a job in construction, working early morning shifts in order to be outside the school steps promptly. 

A few nights a week, he invites you to their apartment for dinner, where you help him cook simple recipes like fried rice or noodles, even little treats like rice balls for Megumi’s school snack. This Thursday night, you stay until bedtime, watching from the doorway as Toji tucks in his son, a small grin on his face, studying the way his eyelashes flutter into a deep slumber. Sound asleep, he sneaks out, closing the door quietly.

You check the time on your phone, disappointed that it’s getting late. “I should head home.”

He walks you to the exit. “Megumi is going to Yuji’s house for a sleepover tomorrow night.”

So far, Toji has kept his distance from you, though you’ve notice subtle glances here and there. You haven’t exactly been forward yourself, too nervous to make the first move or misunderstand what could be friendship and nothing more. Toji feels the same way, unsure if his feelings are reciprocated or if you’re simply this nice of a person. Hopefully, it’s both.  

Your heart beats faster, not sure what you’re supposed to do with this information, waiting for him to elaborate. He clears his throat. “I want to take you out to dinner, to thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, smiling. 

The following night, he arrives at your house, dressed in a flattering button-up and slacks, greeting your parents formally for the first time in over a decade. They remember him fondly, excited to see him all grown-up. He takes you to a restaurant downtown, ordering the most popular items on the menu to share between you, enjoying each other’s company as you always do. After dessert, he invites you to his house for a nightcap, and you’re a little too keen when you agree. While you wait for the water to boil in the tea kettle, you sit beside him on the couch, looking through pictures of him and Megumi on his phone. 

“We went to the beach the first weekend we moved in,” he says, showing a selfie of the two of them sitting on the sand. 

You nudge him in the arm with your elbow. “Remember that school project?”

He grins, leaning into you. “How could I forget?” He glances at your lips, then into your eyes, inching even closer. You gravitate towards him, holding your breath, ready to kiss. Then, the tea kettle whistles, ruining the moment. 

Chuckling, he stands up to remove it from the stove. You sit back into the couch, sighing, body tingling and flustered. He returns shortly with a hot mug of tea in his hands, setting it on the coffee table. “You should let it cool. It’s too hot right now.” He sinks into the cushion beside you, knee brushing yours. 

“Did you like me back? When we first kissed?” It’s one of the many questions still unanswered, and you decide that now is the best time to find out the truth. 

He smiles, grasping your hand gently. “Yes.”

You lock your fingers with his, filling in the spaces seamlessly. “Then why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t think it’d be safe for you to be associated with me. Not while I was still a Zenin.” He pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, noses nearly touching now. 

“And where’s the picture of us?” you whisper, nuzzling your nose to his, wanting so badly to close the distance. 

“I took it. I’ve had it this whole time,” he admits, brushing his lips to yours. You kiss him fully, his grip around your waist, no signs of letting you go anytime soon. You make love to each other right there on his couch, your hot tea forgotten on the coffee table, cold by the time you remember it the next morning. 

For the first time in his life, Toji doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like a monster or a threat. As he marvels at your peaceful form cradled delicately in his arms, Toji Fushiguro feels normal. He feels loved.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fluff #toji fic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

[inlovewithgreta]

stephanie beatriz or rosa diaz with 20-something year old new coworker? all the other details are up in the air :)

Thank you anon for requesting this! Apologies for the long wait!! It was honestly super fun getting to know a new character, and I thank you for introducing me to her. Of course I instantly fell in love with her in the first episode.. Enjoy!! xoxo

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The Name Game — Rosa Diaz x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rosa finally reveals why she has treated you the way she has in an intimate moment you never saw coming.

Warnings: praise, very slight degradation (you blink and you'll miss it), jealousy, semi-public sex, cute pet names

Word Count: 2k

Taglist: @shslbunnylover

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Who the hell is this?" 

Those were the first words you heard as the Captain introduced you to your new coworkers, who all looked at you with smiling faces. Well, except for the woman who just asked who the hell you were.

"This is Detective Y/n. New member of our team," Your boss stated, looking over at the same dark-haired woman from before who had her arms crossed over her chest. "Y/n here will be taking over the empty desk next to yours, Diaz. Be nice."

"I'm always nice," she commented with a straight face.

The Captain sighed before turning his focus back to you. "Make yourself comfortable. Ask Rosa here if you have any questions." You nodded in response as the older man walked away, leaving you alone with the woman.

"Nice to meet you!" You smiled, with a hand held out for the woman to shake, but to your dismay, she ignored it and went to her desk. You followed behind her, and dropped your purse on your new desk, but as soon as you went to open your mouth again, you were cut off.

"A few ground rules," she said. "No obnoxious noises, no smelly foods—"

"Why would I even—"

"No interrupting me," she continued. "And most importantly, no shaving at your desk."

"Why would I shave—"

"Follow these rules. No if's and's, or but's."

And that's how it was with her. It took you weeks before you decided to ignore her altogether. Her sharp words always cut your heart into a million pieces.

You didn't know why she was that way around you. Sure, she was blunt with everyone else but with you it was different. Almost cruel. 

But since you grew closer to Amy, who gave you the courage to not let Rosa's words get to you, and just do what you do best. Which was your job. You only talked to Rosa if you were paired together, and 'talk' was more of an understatement. Few words were ever spoken, and the ravenette was quick to catch on to how quiet you quickly became around her.

At first, she thought nothing of it, but as time went on and your friendship with Amy blossomed, it was obvious just how outgoing you were with her and the rest of the team compared to Rosa herself.

Of course everyone else noticed the tension between you two, and for detectives, it wasn't that hard for them to figure out why. The way you would dare sneak a glance in Rosa's direction when she wasn't looking, and the way Rosa would do the exact same thing with you, except in her case, her eyes would linger.

It wasn't until the Captain had the two of you stay late one night to fill out an over abundance of paperwork, that the two of you actually spent time together, alone.

"I need your signature to wrap up this burglary file, Diaz." You say as you attempt to hand the woman your file.

"Fine," she responds before snatching the file from your grip.

You let out a small sigh as you wait, not allowing her short response to get to you. Including the fact that she didn't even look at you.

"There. Done." She slid the folder back to you before she leaned back comfortably in her chair.

"What did I ever do to you?" you ask.

That question. The one question that has played over and over again in your head since that first day you walked into the precinct and met Rosa who has not once smiled in your direction or said one nice thing to you.

"What are you talking about?" She asked back, fiddling with a pen on her desk.

"What did I ever do to you for you to hate me so much, Diaz?" you repeat yourself.

The ravenette stayed silent, only keeping her focus on the pen spinning in her hand, in which you decided to take from her and slam on her desk. Her nose flared at your action, emotions that she had been holding inside for so long were now bubbling in her chest when you positioned yourself in front of her.

You had decided to stand between her sitting figure and her desk, not realizing you had trapped yourself all because you wanted to tear her attention away from her desk to answer your question.

Rosa scoffed, before rising from her seat and towering over you. She was close. Unimaginably close. The musky scent of her perfume completely takes over your sense of smell.

"Rosa." She peered down at you.

"What?" Your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"The name's Rosa, for one. And two..." she let out a heavy sigh. "I don't hate you." 

"Bullshit." 

Your words caught Rosa by surprise. You were usually well-mannered, and the ravenette had not once heard you swear in the time you had been there, causing her to lift a surprised brow.

She liked it. She was seeing a whole new side of you and now, she wanted to see more.

"I admire you." She finally admitted, not only to you, but to herself, before placing both hands on the desk beside you, completely trapping you, and keeping you from fleeing.

"This isn't funny, Diaz..." 

"Do I look like I'm joking?" She tilted her head, her dark eyes looking you up and down with a mysterious gleam.

"I don't know—" You went to look away, but a hand flew to your chin, forcing your gaze to fixate on her, and her only as she towered over you. 

"Well I'm not joking." She said, "I admire you. I've admired you since you cracked your first case here. It was the fastest I think I've ever seen someone finish a case." 

You could swear you saw a smile tug at the corner of her lips, but it was probably just your brain messing with you. Rosa smiling? It was unheard of around you. You had never seen her smile before. Not once. Was she... proud? There was no way.

"It was remarkable. You are remarkable... and I've been jealous. Jealous of how good you are at your job. Jealous of how quickly everyone here fell in love with you." Your lips fell open at her confession. Rosa being jealous? Of you?

Her hand slid from the wood to your hip that was leaning against the desk, to hold you still. She didn't want you fleeing, not before she got to say what she had to say to you.

"How quickly Amy fell in love with you..."

"Amy? What does Amy have to do—"

At the mention of Amy, her hand fell from your chin to your neck, that neck that fit perfectly into her hand as she gave it a gentle squeeze, forcing an audible moan to escape from you.

"She loves you, y/n. Do you love her?" Her eyes flicked from yours, to your parted lips, and back up to your eyes, as if challenging you.

"Don't tell me you're jealous." You toyed, all the pieces finally coming together.

"And if I am?" She asked, sliding her knee confidently between your legs that earned a sharp gasp from you.

"Then I say you have some serious making up to do...Rosa." 

Her name. You had finally said her name, and it fueled her. Her name sounded beautifully coming from you. "Say it again," She licked her bottom lip. 

"And if I don't?" You dared to challenge her back, to which Rosa immediately caught onto, and refused to let you dominate the situation. And she knew the perfect solution.

"Then I'll make you say it."

"How?" Your curiosity got the best of you.

You let out a shaky breath when her knee suddenly pressed against your clothed center that had your hips unintentionally buck from the contact.

"Let me show you," her words were more of an ask than a demand, and with the subtle nod of your head to allow her to keep going, Rosa planned to do exactly what she said she would. 

Show you. Show you how she planned to get you to say her name again.

Rosa's lips hovered over your own, her pupils dilating as the hand around your neck slid down to the collar of your shirt before slowly picking away at the buttons. She skillfully popped each one open, revealing your smooth skin underneath with a lace bra covering your chest.

Your heart-rate wasn't the only thing that picked up. Rosa could feel your breathing grow faster, both from anxiety and excitement as she successfully removed the last button and untucked the blouse from your jeans.

"Hm, it's just too easy. Already this worked up over some light touching?" she smirked, before quickly slipping out of her leather jacket to reveal her toned arms.

"You think I'm easy, Diaz?" you toyed, a bit of confidence suddenly washing over you.

"Just look at you. You're weak. I bet I can have you screaming my name in just two minutes." She chuckled lowly before slipping a hand into the waistband of your jeans and into your underwear to play with your pussy.

"Mm, fuck you—" you failed at hiding the plethora of moans that forced themselves out of you when she circled your clit.

"Oh, princesa... that's what I'm about to do to you."

The lips that hovered over yours got impossibly closer, her hot breath fanned you, and you wanted nothing more than for her to close the thin space. But to your dismay, she only chuckles again, and brings her lips to the bottom of your chin, then your throat, then to the side of your neck where she bit and sucked on the soft spot below your ear.

"I don't like emotions," she admitted after leaving a light mark on your neck. She came face to face with you again, "I don't know how to deal with them so I acted out. Forgive me?" 

You searched her eyes for any kind of untruthfulness, but didn't find any. And when you gave her a small 'yes', butterflies erupted in your stomach when her lips finally met with yours in a needy kiss.

Moans spewed from your lips and into her mouth as her fingers simultaneously put pressure against your clit and rubbed generous circles. Folders fell from her desk and onto the floor as you repositioned your hands on her desk, to keep you from falling over and breaking her computer.

"What's my name?" She whispered against your lips.

"Detective Diaz," you whined when she pinched your bundle of nerves at the wrong name.

It was hard at first not to say her first name, but you couldn't let her win that easily. You couldn't. One thing she was going to learn about you was how bratty and stubborn you were. You would never go down without a fight.

She tutted and bit your lower lip, while also allowing your hand to grip at the collar of her shirt. Your tongues tangled together, and moans grew a pitch higher as you neared your orgasm.

"No- so close! Don't stop!" You whined when her fingers suddenly left your clit. "Why'd you stop?!"

"You haven't said it, princesa. Why would I reward you?" She smirked devilishly.

"Fuck— fuck you..." She went to remove her hand fully at your words but you grabbed her wrist tightly before she could move away. "Wait! Fine. Rosa...please. Please finish what you started and I'll say your name as many times as you want me to. Just please don't stop, Rosa," you begged.

"Good girl," she cooed, and you visibly blushed at the pet name. "Ooh, you like being called that, don't you?" The second she dove back in your panties, a jolt of electricity ran up your spine, as you could feel your orgasm coming back around.

"Yes, I— I love it." You let your head lull back.

"Then be a good girl and come for me. Right here. Right now."

"Rosa..." you mewled, just before words caught in your throat as you came with shaky legs. The ravenette circled your clit skillfully, allowing you to ride your pleasurable high for as long as you could.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it, princesa?" she teased as she slowed her ministrations before stopping completely.

"It wasn't, I just wanted to play with you."

"Oh you little—" you cut her off with a heated kiss, finally wrapping your arms around her leather-covered body. You enjoyed the closeness with her, it was the thing you were chasing after since the beginning. 

And you couldn't wait to slowly tear down her emotionally built-up walls to see the vulnerable human being waiting for you beneath the surface.

But first, you had to take Rosa out on a date.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

general masterlist | taglist

#brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #rosa diaz #rosa diaz x reader #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot

[daisyvisions]

Goldfinger - (k.yh)

➺ Pairing: Agent 007! reader x Younghoon

➺ Summary: You left the force years ago for a good reason. But it’s that same reason why you’re back on the mission, trying to catch him once and for all… Goldfinger.

➺ Word Count: 3.6k

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fem!reader, unprotected sex, choking, hate sex (if you squint), cowgirl, missionary, overstimulation, handjob, oral (m! receiving), creampies, face slapping, guns, drugs, and alcohol are mentioned, being tied up, dry humping, teasing, pet names used (baby and sweetheart), let me know if I missed anything!

➺ A/N: Very loosely based on the movie. This spy fic is not related to the other Younghoon spy fic I did! This is my entry for The 007 files by the lovely @winterchimez. Proofread once, hope you enjoy! Side note: the song from this movie is my fave so it’s linked up at the end of the fic if you wanna listen!

➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers

You stare at the vesper martini in your hand as you slowly swirl it around, watching the liquid move inside the glass. You were sitting by the bar of this incredible mansion. You have never been to a party like this before.

Everyone was dressed to the nines in this lavish event. Everything from the Hors D'oeuvres to the entertainment screamed luxury, it was like you were invited to a party from The Great Gatsby. As you sip from your glass, you reflect back to why you’re even here to begin with…

Goldfinger.

He was your toughest case that suddenly went cold a couple of years back. To be honest, you were incredibly reluctant to take on this case again, having quit the force around the same time the case went dry and after that incident in Monaco when you nearly died because of trying to catch Goldfinger.

You almost had him that time, almost finally being able to place a face to the name since no one knew what Goldfinger looked like (and he planned on keeping it that way). Out of all the cases you’ve done, he was the one that kept you on your feet, kept your heart running a mile a minute, he somewhat made you feel alive again every time you were close to catching him.

But after the incident you vowed to never go back on the force and start a new life. And that’s what you did. Changed your name, moved to a new location, left everyone you knew in order to truly wipe out that chapter in your life. But sometimes you would catch yourself reminiscing those times, especially the Goldfinger case.

He was different from the other villains, that’s what made him interesting. You knew in your heart Goldfinger was more than just a man loaded with money. He was smart, cunning, and very strategic. In some weird and funny way when you think about it, he kind of reminds you of your own boyfriend Younghoon.

How he always kept the excitement in your relationship since the day you met, how he was the first man in your life that matched your intellect like no one had ever done before, and not to mention how much he would spoil you in many ways that he could.

He was truly one of the greatest things to happen in your life ever since you quit the force. You saw a future with him, a quiet and peaceful life, raising your own and spending your days with each other forever. It was like you were made for each other.

But there was one problem… You never revealed to him that you were once an agent.

So when your boss suddenly called you up while you were watching a movie with Younghoon, you panicked.

“Who’s that baby?” He looks over at your phone, a name he did not recognize.

“Oh! That’s Jacob, old friend of mine from when I took my masters.” You quickly respond. “Let me just take this call real quick okay?” You kiss his cheek before getting up.

“Okay, but make it quick. I miss you already.” Younghoon pouts before turning his attention back to the tv.

You slowly close the door of your shared bedroom and instantly swipe open your phone. At first, you were mad at Jacob for calling you after specifically telling him to leave you alone for good. But when he started telling you why he called and mentioned the name Goldfinger, you felt a sudden surge of adrenaline pumping within your veins.

“We have a really good lead and we’re sure to catch him this time around. It’s not like what happened in Monaco I can assure you.” Jacob says.

“It sounds really tempting…” You answer, trying to keep a hush tone so your boyfriend doesn’t hear you. “But I don’t know…”

“Just one last time 007, please? For old time’s sake?” You hear the slight desperation in Jacob’s tone.

You pause for a moment, suddenly remembering all the bad memories attached to Goldfinger. But there was little voice within you was screaming to take on the job. Not only that, but you had a sudden vision of meeting Goldfinger face to face and finally ending his mischief once and for all.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You sigh heavily.

As you reviewed the case file in your study, you couldn't help but feel off about everything. Was it really a good idea to take this case again? The case that nearly caused your death? Was it to finally close that chapter or was it just for you to relive your glory days as an agent? You shook your head, not wanting to overthink the situation and just jumped right in with what you needed to know and what you were assigned to do.

According to the case file, Goldfinger had been M.I.A the same time you had retired from the force. No one knew where he was or what he was up to until there was sudden activity popping up from the credit card you had tracked years ago.

While the items that were purchased under the credit card weren't out of the ordinary, there was one pattern that stood out to you. The items he had bought seemed to be around the area where you had lived. When you took note of the dates of purchase, you realized they were at a time when you were out with Younghoon too.

Your eyes widened. Had Goldfinger been around you all this time? So close yet so far away? Was he one of the people you sat beside in the train or passed by in your local coffee shop? Whatever it was, it felt like he was mocking you. How he still seems to be right under your nose even after all these years as well as the idea of Younghoon possibly getting into danger bothered you a lot.

It should’ve frightened you, how your past seemed to cling onto you no matter what you did, but instead made you want to catch him even more.

The motivation you once felt being on this case was alive and kicking. As with every case you got into, you knew you would have to face whatever consequences there will be.

Even if it meant leaving the love of your life behind.

“Do you really have to go?” Younghoon’s raspy voice whispered in your ear as he kissed the spot under your earlobe. His body collapsing on top of you after you two come down from your highs after an intense night of lovemaking.

“It’s a reunion with my friends from master’s school. Can’t pass it up otherwise it will take years for us to see each other again.” You breathe out heavily. Your core throbs slightly as you feel him pull out and his cum slowly spilling out of you.

“Does it really have to be so far away?” He pouts as he helps you get cleaned up with a warm hand towel.

“Paris is not THAT far.” You chuckle, sitting up to grab the water he held in his hand.

“Why don’t you take me with you? Please?” He looks at you with doe eyes. How could say no to a face like that?

“It will be quick, I promise Hoon.” You cup his face and his forehead tenderly.

“Okay.” He smiles, before reaching for your waist and swiftly pulling you on top of him. His mischievous smile already telling you what he wants as you feel his member become hard beneath you again.

“Then let’s make the most of this night baby.”

“Agent!” You snap back into reality as you hear Jacob shouting in your earpiece.

“Wha-yeah what’s up?” You ask.

“He’s here…” Your heart starts racing at those two words.

Goldfinger, finally in the same vicinity as you are. Just a few feet away from you somewhere in this mansion.

“Which one is he?” You sit up properly and adjust your dress, checking if the gun strapped to your thigh is still in place.

“The tall man by the buffet table, talking to the ambassador of Norway. He’s wearing a gold masquerade mask.”

“On it.”

You down your martini before hopping off the bar stool and placing your own mask back on. You walk around the party while you keep you eye on Goldfinger’s figure, making sure you keep a good distance from him. As soon as he walks up the grand stairs and disappears into one of the rooms in the mansion, you make your way in the crowd and follow him.

As you stealthily walk towards the room he entered, you notice the door was left slightly open, allowing you to peek inside and see what was going on. You could see the back of Goldfinger facing you as he opened and a bottle of whiskey a poured a glass for himself.

There he is, you thought to yourself. You were slightly in awe seeing his figure and surprised to find out that he was not the old fat man you thought he might be. In fact, he appeared to be around your age.

While you were lost in thought, you failed to notice a henchman coming up from behind you and smothers you with a handkerchief, instantly knocking you out with whatever drug was laced on the fabric.

You slowly wake up to the sound of classical music being played while hearing the muffled sounds of the people outside the room. As you come back to your senses, you realize you were placed lying down on the king sized bed in the suite.

At first you thought it was all a dream, until you feel your hands tied behind your back and your earpiece missing. You suddenly squirm, trying to let yourself free from the restraint until-

“Struggling will only make it worse 007.”

The deep voice making you turn your attention to the living room across. The same figure you had caught a glimpse of, drinking from his whiskey glass before getting up to saunter towards you. The aura around him was so intense you couldn’t help but just freeze and stare at Goldfinger.

As soon as he got to the foot of the bed, he gently pulls your legs towards him, making you sit at the edge while he slowly kneels in front of you.

“I must say, I didn’t expect my 007 to be woman. A pretty one at that.” Goldfinger says with a sultry tone. You know you shouldn’t have reacted that way, but when he said “my” you felt your cheeks become warm. And the way he said you were pretty even if you still had your mask on made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Keep it together agent!

“At last, we finally meet face to face after all these years.” He caresses your knees as he looks up at you.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think of your first real interaction with Goldfinger would end up like this. And it doesn’t help at the fact the more you try to see his face under the mask, you could tell that he was definitely a handsome man.

But there was definitely something about him that seemed oddly familiar, you just couldn’t name it…

“Bet you missed me too didn’t you?” You tease back. “It’s been a couple of years.”

“Oh yes I have, sweetheart.” He smirks. “Thought about you sometimes while I was on a… break.”

His hands slowly caress your thighs, goosebumps forming on your skin when you feel his hand on the exposed area of your dress. You try to hide the little gasp that comes out of your mouth but fail miserably. His smile grows wider knowing the effect he has on you.

You were so caught up staring into his eyes that you didn't even notice him getting up quick and toppling over you. His body hovers above yours as his hand places your tied wrists above your head.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me Mr. Goldfinger?” You tease him again. He lowers his head and whispers in your ear.

“Why don’t you take a guess?” His hand instantly pulls out his golden pistol and points it under your jaw. You try to free yourself as much as you can but the weight of his body holds you in place, making you suddenly scared for your life once again.

“Let me see your face 007. I want to see the face of my favorite agent before she turns into gold.”

He pulls away from you and removes the mask from your face. Not even a second at looking at your face, Goldfinger suddenly gasps and drops the gun. It looked like he saw a ghost by the way his eyes widened.

“Fuck this can’t be real.” He panics.

“What do you mea-”

Before you could even ask, he removes his own mask, finally revealing to you his own face. You both stare at each other wide eyed, hearts pumping loudly at the shocking revelation happening before you.

“…Y-younghoon?” you stutter. “Is that you?”

“Baby, what the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you were with your friends.”

“And I thought you were back home! Oh my god-” You cover your face with your tied wrists, trying to wipe the tears forming in your eyes.

Suddenly you remember all the little things that made you feel like Younghoon was similar to Goldfinger. It was like it all flashed before you. Here you thought you were the only one keeping secrets, but it looks like your boyfriend was keeping some skeletons in the closet as well.

Younghoon runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to regain his composure, still trying to grasp at the fact the love of his life happens to be the very person out to kill him.

“What are we going to do now?” He looks at you with sadness in his eyes.

Instead of answering him, you sit up and lunge forward, making you both fall off the bed as you topple over his body this time. He struggles to get the gun near his hand, but you’re able to swat it out before he does.

You hold his neck with your hands still tied together, slowly adding pressure to his throat as he tries to pull your arms away. Tears start to fall from your eyes. You would never hurt Younghoon, not in a million years. You never told him about your life in the force to avoid anything bad happening to him. But here you were, trying to kill him.

You felt so confused on what to do. But at the back of your mind, you knew you had to get the job done. To finally put him behind bars once and for all, even if your heart would be broken in the process.

As you attempt to place more pressure on his throat, your eyes grow wide as he suddenly groans out of impulse. His cock slowly becoming erect beneath you in the position you’re both in, his bulge pressing on your panty covered core.

“Don’t do that Hoon…” You whine as you try to take control of the situation.

“I can’t help it! You look absolutely gorgeous in this dress baby.” His eyes look you up and down, making you get a bit shy.

“And the way you want to kill me right now? Holy shit it’s fucking turning me on.” Younghoon groans again, his member throbbing beneath you as he soaks up the sight in front of him.

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” You say.

“But don’t you like it hard?” He smirks, but you instantly slap his face with the back of your hand, trying to get him to shut up but you know it’s not working because you feel him throbbing under you again.

“Well, before you take me in agent, can I at least request for one last thing?” He proposes.

“And what would that be Mr. Goldfinger?” You raise one eyebrow.

“Want you to use me-” He said bluntly.

“I’m sorry?” Your eyebrows scrunch together.

“You clearly have a lot of anger you want to let out, why not use it on me instead? One last taste of you before you send me off to the sharks.”

You felt so conflicted. You needed to stop Younghoon right now before he disappears again (or worse, even kill you) but at the same time you are just as turned on as he is….

“Fuck it.” You lunged forward and hungrily kiss him on the lips. He instantly grabs your hips and makes them roll back and forth, moaning at the way he can feel your wet core rubbing against his crotch.

You continue to roll your hips as Younghoon grabs your wrists and unties the rope holding them together. As soon as you’re set free your hands start to slip to his belt, hastily unbuckling them as you slide your hand in his pants, eager to fist his length like you’ve never done before.

Younghoon’s moans grow louder as you pump his cock in your hand, your tongue snaking its way into his mouth. His hands cup your breasts, kneading them as you both touch each other like a pair of twenty-year olds in college. You both help each other up from the floor and onto the bed, removing each other’s clothes as you continue your ministrations.

You waste no time going down on him, leaving a trail of hot kisses from his jaw until his abdomen before licking a stripe on his cock and taking the whole size in your mouth. Younghoon held your hair as you worked your mouth on him, the sounds of slurping and the way the tip would hit the back of your throat made his eyes roll back in pleasure.

You release him with a pop, giving his length a few pumps before straddling his lap and sinking down on his cock without any warning. You both moan at the stretch, but you start rolling your hips not waiting to adjust to his size.

“Baby, slow down for a moment-” He tries to grab your hips but instead you grab his wrists and pin them down against the mattress.

“Not after everything you put me through and lied about it!” You grind on his cock as hard as you can, using all the energy you have to chase your own high. Usually between the two of you, you’re the one that easily breaks. But this time around, it was Younghoon who breaks first .

“How was I supposed to know?! Fuck I think I’m gonna-” Younghoon doesn’t even have time to warn you because he’s already bursting inside you, the hardest he has ever done in his life. But you didn’t care, you were gonna ride him until he started to shake and cry under you.

“Sweetheart wait-” Younghoon starts to bite down on his bottom lip, trying not to let the feeling of his overstimulated cock affect him. But eventually he couldn’t hold it out much longer as you kept on aggressively riding his member.

Tears were falling down his eyes, he had never felt this during sex before, but seeing you angrily fuck the life out of him turned him on so much he ended up cumming inside you again as you finally reached your high.

You collapsed on top of him, panting against his neck as his cock continues to throb inside you. He was about to kiss your temple like he always did, but you suddenly pulled away from him and sat at the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you still try to grasp everything that happened.

But before you could even turn around to face him, Younghoon smothers you with a handkerchief making you fall asleep from the drug once again.

The moment you’re knocked out cold, Younghoon gets up to grab his clothes, dressing himself up before placing your clothes back on too. He adjusts the way you’re lying down on his bed, making sure you’re all comfortable before tracing his finger on your jaw. Looking at your face one last time and placing a kiss on your forehead before he leaves.

You wake up in your hotel room in a panic, feeling like everything that had happened was a dream. You hold your head in your hand as you feel it aching. You look around to the room and see a tray of your favorite food on a table alongside the pain medication you needed to drink.

You felt so out of it. Maybe it was a dream after all, you told yourself. As you walk over to tray and sit down, you spot a letter beside the drink. You hold it up to see what it was, but your eyes widen at the familiar gold initials at the front of the envelope.

You hastily rip out the paper to look inside the contents of the letter, slouching your back onto the chair. Your heart starts to ache from the many emotions flooding through you, especially with the words written down,

Until we meet again. -Younghoon

#kim younghoon #younghoon #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #younghoon smut #younghoon scenarios #tbz smut #the boyz scenarios #kpop smut #tbz hard hours #🔎 — the 007 files

[spoiledblogif]

This is the development blog for the interactive fiction called "The Second Sight", which you can find on itch.io at the link above!

This is my first IF project, although I've been writing original stories and fanfiction for years.

I've included the story description and character profiles from the itch page below the cut.

This blog will be a combination of development info, images and music that I associate with the story, and other musings.

Fair warning, there might be spoilers from the latest chapters here, so I recommend catching up before reading too far.

Asks and submissions are always open.

You’re an urban legend in a county full of them.  When you were thirteen, you were found passed out in the road by one of the local cops. No missing persons report. No fingerprints on file. No memories. Just a name.

Oh, and some bizarre psychic powers.  You're content with simplicity. You like your isolated cabin and helping Carter track down missing persons.  You know that in theory there are more people like you out there, but you've never wanted to look behind the curtain to find out.

However, with the disappearance of a local teen named Casey Powell and a recent attempt on your foster father's life, your serene, isolated life comes abruptly to its end and a new chapter begins.

✤✤✤

The Second Sight is an urban fantasy story, where you step into the role of a psychic whose strange powers have always separated them from others. Those same powers will drag you down the rabbit hole and into a world that is both the familiar and foreign to everything you know. A world filled with magic, witches, fae, demons, and the unknown.

You can immerse yourself in the story by customizing your protagonist's general appearance, choosing how they interact with others, and whether you lean on logic or intuition to problem solve. There are three love interests planned (more may be added depending on player reception and feedback), the genders of which will be selected by the player upon meeting them.

Characters

Jacob Carter

Age: Late forties

Race: Human. Definitely.

Gender: Male

Temperament: Carter radiates grizzled, old bastard energy and despite being the least paternal person in the world, he is your adoptive father. While harsh and aloof on the surface, he is also fiercely protective of you and has bent over backwards to give a decent life to a kid that isn't even his. He doesn't talk about his life before coming to Herman County and you haven't asked him, though that might change soon enough...

✤✤✤

Zander/Zora

Age: Late twenties.

Race: Human.

Appearance: Umber brown skin, black locs, grey eyes

Temperament: Gentle and resolute, Z isn't what you imagine when you think of an agent of the mysterious Magic and Anomalies Bureau. Kind, soft-spoken, and exceedingly polite, Z is Carter's former apprentice and something about them puts the old man on edge.

✤✤✤ Renard/Rowan

Age: Appears to be in their late twenties or early thirties

Race: Human. Maybe.

Appearance: Tall and slender, white-blonde hair, and gold eyes.

Temperament: Playful and flirtatious, talking to R always feels like a game of cat and mouse and you can never be sure which role is yours. Part sad clown, part trickster, and always maddening to work with, the only things you can be certain of with R is that they probably know what they're doing. Everything else is up in the air.

✤✤✤

Unknown aka "The Kestrel"

Age: ???

Race: Definitely not human.

Appearance: Tall, beautiful, elegant, with black hair and black eyes.

Temperament: The Kestrel is a complete unknown. It's impossible to say whether they are a lethal ally or deadly enemy, but either way they are a powerful dreamwalker. You don't know how long they've been watching you, but you're willing to bet that it's been longer than you're comfortable with.

#pinned post #blog intro #interactive fiction #the second sight

[kiwisbell]

The Impaler

Chief Detective Tim Rockford makes a breakthrough in New York City’s latest serial killer case. The mysterious culprit is in the mood to share more than information.

my masterlist!

pairing: tim rockford x f!reader x max phillips

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: vampires, gothic architecture, slightly dubious consent, implied mind alteration/control, murder, death, blood, threesome, lots of biting, spanking, spitroasting, masturbation, DVP, fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap ur vampire dicks pls), wife sharing, free use kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), exchanging fluids, spitting, disgusting and filthy, max using cringey nicknames for reader’s pussy but it’s charming bc it’s max, handcuffs, light bondage, hair pulling

word count: ~ 7.2k

read on ao3!

a/n: hello, my loves!! i wanted to do something special for halloween, so i decided to slap together a short, silly, unpolished one-shot inspired by dracula! this one is dedicated to my vampire obsession and tim rockford's shoulder holsters. anyway, please mind the tags, and enjoy!!

PREFACE

“No one but a woman can help a man when he is in trouble of the heart." — Bram Stoker, Dracula

“I swear to God, Ron, I’m two seconds away from taking up smoking again.”

Chief Detective Tim Rockford pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling his eye twitch minutely with every pass he makes of the cork board.  

The seventh victim in two weeks, and he’s no closer to an answer. Last night, thirty-two-year-old Dean Madison was found by the harbour, a couple shades paler than his family insisted he usually was and with two small puncture wounds in his neck. Otherwise, the coroners didn’t find a single wound on him. Before Madison, it was a couple in Central Park, and before that, a college football player. Their bodies were all found in virtually the same condition, but not one of them is related. 

Random. Unplanned acts of violence carried out exclusively at night, predicated on nothing but the apparent desire to kill. The culprit left no fingerprints, no murder weapon, no footprints. There's no motivation. 

Groaning as he stands, elder Detective Ron Lauder hands Tim a manila folder. “List of the boats going in and out last night, if you fancy makin’ your eyes cross. I gotta call it here, man. You should go home, too, get some sleep.”

Tim claps Ron on the back. “Nah, man, I gotta file these away first. You go on home.”

“Don’t come cryin’ to me when you fall asleep in your Cheerios tomorrow.” Ron leaves yawning, and Tim hears the door gently click shut in the distance, signalling a familiar solitude in the bullpen. 

The other cops know about the case. They all have bets running. Will the chief get it right? Will he get himself killed? When’s the next victim going to show? Tim indulges their morbid little fantasy pool by devoting most of his waking—and sleeping—hours to the task. 

He decides to settle in with the logs from the docks. Scanning every line item, he feels his eyelids pulling down, and takes another sip of coffee to stay awake. 

One name catches his eye. Demeter. 

Tim narrows his eyes, his gaze travelling across the page. The logs only account for the past twenty-four hours, but he's seen that name before. He sets down the file and hurries to his desk, rifling through the top drawer, setting aside his pocket knife and his gun, to produce another file labelled ???? 

Not very creative, but it’s not like he’s going to label a file My Latest Failure. He opens the folder and scours the paperwork inside for witness statements. 

There. 

Fuck—here it is. His first goddamn lead. 

On the 14th of October, a dock worker watched the Demeter stroll up to the harbour through the water and a man saunter inside, exchanging cash with the driver. The man left with a box. Because the Demeter was listed as a private vessel, the dock worker had reason for concern if the boat was conducting business without a license. He reported this to the police. 

Tim eyes the cork board, following the red thread that connect each victim. He curses. 

The next day, the boat’s driver was found dead in a Soho alleyway. Two puncture wounds in his neck. 

Jesus Christ. Tim’s fingers tremble as he turns the page to continue reading. 

If the Demeter is conducting frequent illegal business from that harbour and the client doesn't want anyone finding out, it’s likely that client is exactly who Tim is looking for. And it's even likelier poor Dean Madison was in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Give me something. A wire transfer pattern. A paper trail. A benevolent benefactor who keeps the engine running. 

Outside, the wind whistles, and Tim blinks away sleep. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a shape pass by the window, and his head jerks up. 

There's a bat hanging from the tree outside. The creature stares for a long while, near-incisive, as if telling Tim to go the fuck to sleep. He checks his watch. It’s two o’clock. 

More than enough time to head down to the docks. 

The next night, just after nine o’clock, Tim knocks on the door of a hulking mansion in Soho.

The Gothic spires of the home stretch to the wispy clouds, the moon taking up a vigil over the grand roof. Arched windows glare down at him. You are a trespasser, they hiss. You do not belong here. The door knocker is shaped like a pair of bat wings, and the ancient, ornate doors creak under the force of his pounding. Overhead, clouds continue to roll in, signalling some fall storm. A shiver racks his body. 

A woman opens the door, and Tim’s heartbeat stutters.  

You’re beautiful. Your smile is so radiant it infects your eyes, your body draped in a tiny white slip, skin so soft it seems to glow in the light. You briefly assess Tim with those keen eyes. 

“Good evening, sir,” you say. Tim licks his lips. Your voice is soft as water. 

“Good… uh, good evening, ma'am.” He forgets that he is supposed to remain suspicious and clasps his hands together in front of him. “Chief Detective Tim Rockford. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh,” you purr, demurely folding your hands together in a mirror action to Tim, “of course. Would you like some coffee?”

In the movement, he catches a glimmer of the golden band around your ring finger. “No. Thank you.”

Amusement twinkles in your eyes. “That’s good, because we don’t have any.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he says good-naturedly. “What’s your husband’s name?”

“Phillips,” you reply dutifully, nibbling your bottom lip. “Max Phillips.”

Fuck. 

He has the right person. He just can't help but wonder if you're a part of it, too. 

There’s not a chance. You’re too good. Too beautiful. Your eyes pull him in, waves swallowing the shore, your pupils shrinking and dilating as if speaking to him. 

“Have you seen this man?” Tim asks, presenting a picture of Dean Madison, drained of blood and neck punctured. 

You frown, but he finds no glimmer of recognition in your eyes, no evidence of an increased heart rate. “Oh, gosh, no. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” says Tim. He doesn't know why he bothers, but he hides the gruesome image. He doesn't want to see you upset. 

“Am I in trouble for something, Detective?” 

Your breasts sit so nicely in that little nightgown, the line of your thighs so tempting under the hem, your skin so fucking dewy he could lick all the nectar from it. Tim blinks hard. What the fuck is wrong with him? 

“No,” he says tightly. “Just here to ask some questions. Does the name Demeter mean anything to you?”

Sheepishly, you shrug. “She's a Greek goddess.”

“She’s also a boat,” says Tim. “It’s connected to two incidents by the docks in the past couple weeks.”

“Incidents?” 

The curve of your throat would fit his mouth so nicely. You’re beautiful in the way a marble statue is—elegant and poised, carefully arranged, silk dripping like honey off your perfect fucking body. 

Tim clears his throat. His head feels foggy. 

“Do you mind if I speak to your husband?”

“Maxie?” your sweet voice calls. The sound echoes off the polished walls, petering gently to a lullaby, and Tim wants to rescue you from such a cruel place. “Maxie, there's a man at the door, and he wants to speak with you.”

A man descends the grand spiral staircase, dressed in a suit even though it’s nighttime, adjusting his cufflinks and grinning like a real schmoozer. He’s got the same dark eyes and nose and mouth as Tim, but marked by signs of youth the detective doesn't have. He’s clean-shaven, bright-eyed, lively. 

“Evening, Detective,” says Max Phillips. “Hope you haven't been giving my wife any trouble. Hi, baby.”

You beam at him, holding out your hand. Max threads his fingers through yours and pushes himself into your space, playfully nipping your earlobe. Your giggle is intoxicating. Tim wants to be the one making you smile this way. 

“Mr. Phillips, have you seen this man?” 

Phillips takes a break from crushing his nose in your throat to examine the picture. “Haven’t seen him,” he says, “but it looks like he isn’t seeing anyone.”

“Last night,” says Tim, tucking the picture away, “I went down to the docks and took a look around. You know what I found, Mr. Phillips?”

“This isn't a very fun game, Detective.” Phillips is busying himself with your hair, twirling a lock of it around his finger. You stare up at your husband like he hung the fucking moon and Tim wants to know what it feels like to earn that look. 

“I found blood,” says Tim. “Bags of blood from St. Clare’s Mercy in St. John’s. What kind of sick bastard steals blood from a hospital? I wondered. Then I checked the registration and found a name. Phillips.”

The revelation doesn't seem to faze Phillips the way it did Tim. His lips curve in a frown against your temple. “Looks like the detective knows how to do his job.”

You play with your husband’s fingers as if coaxing him to use them on you. “Didn’t mean to,” you whisper. 

“Shh, sweetheart, I know.” Max tucks your hair behind your ear, his voice so gentle. “I know you didn't mean to, baby. We all get hungry.”

Tim's nostrils flare. You’re both so indifferent to all you've done—you don't care one bit that you've killed, that you’ve left Tim and all his inferiors scratching their heads and losing sleep for weeks. 

He’s got his culprits, all right. 

What the fuck do they want with bags of blood? 

His lip curls. “Just tell me the truth. We can all work together here.”

“About that man by the docks,” you say softly, stepping forward with a placating smile on your face. “I got carried away, Detective. I never wanted to—”

Tim has heard enough. He withdraws his gun from its holster and points the barrel between your eyes. “Do not. Move.”

Your lower lip juts out in a pout, but Phillips’s eyes darken, playful veneer crumbling fast, at the sight of a gun pointed at his wife. “Now, Detective,” he says good-naturedly, though his rigid posture betrays any sense of camaraderie. “If you're gonna point that gun at anyone, it should be me.”

“That so?” Tim’s eyes don't stray from you. Your eyes are wide as a doe’s, your glossy lips parted in vague shock, your silky nightgown contoured so deliciously to your shape. You smell fresh, roses and perfume, and his head goes fuzzy. Your skin looks so soft, glowing under the orange firelight… 

He wonders how you would taste.

His finger trembles near the trigger. 

Phillips presses closer to you, his hand sliding around your waist, his fingers splaying over your ribs. Possessive. His eyes are on Tim, and that look—it peels him apart. Tim may be holding a weapon, but he feels powerless to do anything at all. 

Fear strikes him true. He should not have knocked on this door tonight. 

“You know what I like about people?” says Phillips, idly circling his thumb over your waist while his eyes fall to your pretty face, his other hand twisting your hair around his finger. “I like that they're so… hmm, supple. It's like plucking all the petals off a flower. Can see all the stuff inside with one little pull.” 

Phillips suddenly ducks his head and Tim jolts, pointing the gun his way, but the killer only places an open-mouthed kiss on your throat, just beneath your ear. 

Tim watches your eyes flutter, a sedated little smile growing on your face, and he wants to know. He needs to know what you taste like. 

“That’s more like it, Detective,” says Phillips, playfully nipping your throat before he pulls back. Tim sees a flash of glistening white as the killer bares his teeth and presumes a man as well-off as Max Phillips knows something about veneers. “I know what you want. You don't want to point that gun at my wife, do you?”

Tim’s jaw ticks. He doesn't. He doesn't want to hurt you at all. He wants to make you smile. He wants to slip his hand inside that nightgown and tear it all away to see what's beneath. He wants to put his mouth on you, touch you, do whatever you fucking want him to do. 

Phillips chuckles, and a tremor oozes down Tim’s spine. He isn't safe here—he knew this straight away—but there's more to the couple in front of him than they’re letting him know. “Mmm, she has that effect on lots of people,” says Phillips. “Can’t tell you how many men I’ve had to kill just because they decided to touch.” He pinches your ass for effect and you laugh, hiding your face in Max’s neck. 

“Is that a confession?” says Tim, gritting his teeth as another wave of your perfume pervades reason. 

“Sure,” says Phillips, “it's a confession. But I don't think you want to leave. I think you want to stay here and fuck my wife. Do I get the cash prize, Detective?”

Tim wavers. The door is… It’s right there. He’s standing just inside, could turn around and bolt the hell out of here now, could radio for backup and cuff both of these freaks in two seconds. 

He lowers the gun. 

“Thaaat’s it,” coos Phillips. “I’ll offer you a deal now. Make her feel good, and I’ll forget about you pointing that gun at her.”

Tim’s cock is stiff in his pants, blood surging downward and away from his brain, his body calling to the siren song emitting from you. He’ll drown in it. There's no turning back. Behind him, the door swings closed, untouched. 

You grin at Tim, biting your bottom lip and threading your fingers through Max’s hair. This way, you keep your husband fixed to you, nipping playfully at your throat.

“Do you want to touch me, sir?” you ask him, your voice dripping nectar. 

Tim’s jaw ticks. His head inclines in a nod. 

“No, no, no, Detective, that's no fun,” tuts Max. “Is it, baby?”

“Mmm, no fun,” you echo, the sound of it melodic, enchanting. “Want you to want it, Detective. Want you to show me you want it.”

Tim nods again, stepping closer, his eyes raking over your body in that little white slip, held in place by Phillips’ hands. 

“You're not going to touch my wife with a gun in your hand,” says Phillips darkly. “You’re going to drop it, and then you’ll clean off your dirty fingers in her pretty cunt.”

Tim flicks on the safety and sets the gun on the table just inside the foyer, shucking off his jacket. He doesn't care about the goddamn case anymore. He’s bone-tired, sick of all the overtime he's putting in with no return on investment, and so lonely that it aches. He needs a body to bury himself inside, a sweet, pretty girl to taste. He didn't expect he’d pick the woman he's been chasing for weeks. 

He approaches you slowly, taking in the entire length of your body, wondering about the texture of your hair, the softness of your skin. He gets to explore it tonight. He won't waste the chance. 

The first touch electrifies his nerves. Your skin is velvet under his rough palms, your head tilting idly to the side as your husband continues to kiss your neck. Tim caresses your arms, memorising the feel of you beneath his fingers, and lets your eyes swallow him. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His voice scrapes over your skin and lifts goosebumps, some echo of the bodily instincts you once had in life. You practically purr as you hook your fingers in the holsters straining under his broad shoulders and tug him closer. 

“Please kiss me, sir.”

The scent of roses washes down his throat as he cups your face and slants his mouth over yours. Max occupies himself in the junction of your throat and shoulder, canines gently grazing what used to be your pulse point.  You moan softly into Tim’s mouth, and his cock reacts accordingly, twitching in his pants as he presses his body against yours to deepen the kiss. 

“Tastes so sweet, doesn't she?” Max muses, his hand squeezing your hip. “She’s picky, too. Must like you a lot.”

Tim groans as he pulls you closer, his hand warming the small of your back over the flimsy silk slip. His tongue slides along yours, his fingers threading in your hair, and he grinds his clothed cock into your hip. He eagerly swallows down your whines, consumed by how fucking good you feel against him. 

Max’s fangs begin to protrude from his gums as his tongue lavishes your throat, lapping up the sweetness rolling off your body, your hormones, the way you radiate need even though your heart does not beat. His cock prods your ass, confined in his pants, straining to find the friction he needs. You're melting, hands grasping greedily at Tim’s holsters, his button-up, trying to absolve him of his clothes. 

He’s so dizzy he can barely stay upright. He belongs right here in your shadow, kissing his way across your jaw, so caught up in the fervour of pleasing you that he doesn't notice the way your pulse does not flutter under his lips. 

“Does it feel good, baby?” says Max, his fangs close to puncturing your skin. “Is he doing his job?”

“Yes,” you whisper, lashes fluttering as Tim’s moustache scratches the sensitive skin below your ear. Your fingers curl in his tousled hair, dark and streaked with grey, signifiers of age your Max will never show. Your Max, who wants to taste you even though it doesn’t sustain him, who indulges in the sublime sweetness of your blood just because he loves it. 

Tim’s big hands trail down your body at the same time his mouth does, shifting the silk nightgown in his feverish need to feel more of you, bringing the entire thing down to the floor with him in one aggressive tug. You gasp, your nipples stiff as they're exposed to the cool air, your thighs squeezing together instinctively, watching Tim sink to his knees in front of you as if in a trance. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Max’s hand trails across your belly, palming at your thigh. Tim is crushing his nose into your skin as he kisses the spot where your hip meets your thigh. “You want him to taste your pretty pussy?”

“Yes, Max,” you whimper. “Yes, please.”

His lips ghost across your temple. “Don’t beg me. Beg him.” 

Your eyes dip below your body to find Tim staring expectantly at you as he scatters kisses along your belly, your thighs. His pupils eclipse those warm brown irises. “Please, Detective.” You comb his soft hair away from his forehead and bite your lip at the way his taut expression telegraphs unaltered desire. He needs this. He needs you. “Please taste me.”

It's all he wants. His big, broad shoulders ease your thighs open while Max moves to your back, letting you balance against his hard chest. The scrape of the leather holsters on the back of your thigh makes you shiver as Tim guides your leg up onto his shoulder. You’re fucking dripping for him, your pussy glistening with your own arousal, clinging to your inner thighs. Tim’s eyes shudder as he slowly licks your juices clean off your skin, his fingers dimpling flesh. 

“How’s she taste?” says Max, his hand fixing around your throat. Your hand overlaps his for a grip on reality, your other firmly wedged in the dreamworld, grasping Tim’s messy hair. 

“So fucking sweet,” growls Tim, his teeth sinking into your inner thigh, over your femoral artery. 

“Oh,” you moan, your head lolling against Max’s shoulder. “He likes to bite, Maxie.”

“A thorough detective,” purrs Max, his thumb caressing your jaw. “Hard to find that kind of dedication these days. Don’t make her wait, Rockford. She wants you; I can smell it.” 

Tim’s nostrils flare—one last breath of air before he sinks wholly under the water. His tongue darts out to part your folds, sliding languorously through your wet slit. You bite your lip at the sight of his strong shoulders wedged between your thighs, his nose pressed hard against your clit as he circles his tongue around your hole. You’re fucking nectar. It's euphoria, the indelible high he will always be searching to replicate. 

“Detective,” you sigh. 

Tim groans into your cunt, his hand coming down in a hard smack to your thigh. The sudden shock of the slap pools arousal in your core, a pitiful yelp leaving your mouth. 

“Sir!”

“The detective knows what this pretty little kitty wants,” says Max, grinning against your cheek. He punctuates his words with a playful thrust into your backside. “He knows you like it rough, honey. You like that?”

“Yes! Yes! More, please, I’ll do anything.”

Max considers this, humming ponderously into your throat. “Anything?”

Tim places an open-mouthed kiss on your needy clit, and you gasp, “Anything!”

“You got a pair of handcuffs on you, Rockford?”

It's a flurry of activity. You're transported efficiently to the couch in the living room, a gigantic jewel-green sectional, your hands bound behind you by two cold metal cuffs. Bent over the arm of the sofa, your thighs are spread, your cheek pressed into the cushion as you're shamelessly bared for the pair of them. Whining, you wiggle your hips, standing on your toes and presenting yourself for someone to make you feel good, already. 

“My poor baby.” Max is gently caressing the curve of your spine. “You said you'd do anything. You wanna break your promise?”

“No, no, I’ll be good,” you beg. “I’ll behave, please!”

“Hear that, Rockford?” says Max, still smiling fondly down at you. “She’ll be good.”

Hands grasp your thighs and wrench them farther apart, warm breath—living breath—blowing on your cunt. “Sir,” you gasp, writhing under his big hands, “are you gonna be nice to me?”

Tim licks a bold path through your slit and hums, his head spinning, inebriated from a taste alone. He’s keeping you spread open, lapping up your sweet juices, fixing for his next hit. Making you moan is victory alone. He’ll be more than nice to you. 

He fixes his mouth to your clit and you cry out, your hands flexing uselessly in the handcuffs. He suckles at your pearl, every sensation heightened by the fact that you can't move, buried under the weight of all the hands and metal links and pleasure. Max watches, pleased with your behaviour, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. “You’ve been bad, honey. Got a little reckless. We’re gonna teach you how to be good.”

Tim nips your clit, Max’s silent partner-in-crime, and you mewl. 

“Like you… know anything… about good.”

“Mmm, and so rude.” Max clicks his tongue in reproach. “Detective, I think you should show my wife what happens when she's rude.”

The tongue licking through your cunt stops, and a garbled sound of protest escapes your throat, your eyes bleeding mascara into the cushion. You pulse frantically around nothing, desperate to be filled somehow, anywhere. You whimper for Tim, Maxie, someone, please—

A hot, wet glob of saliva lands on your puckered asshole, and a gurgled moan leaves your lips as Tim cleans off his own spit with his tongue. 

As he swirls the wet muscle around your hole, his hand comes down in a hard slap on your ass, and you squeal, your arousal splattering on his clean white shirt. Apparently pleased, Tim groans, two thick fingers parting your folds.

“Ah! Oh, fuck, sir, please…”

Kneading the flesh of your ass in one hand, the other occupies itself by playing with your pussy, and for the first time, the detective gives you an order. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, sinking two fingers into your tight cunt. His voice sounds like the shroud of night, like he knows exactly how illicit this is and fucking delights in it. 

The feeling of his tongue on your asshole and his fingers curling up against your spongy walls has you drooling, your thighs trembling around his shoulders. “It’s… ah, fuck… it’s so good, Detective. Fuck, I’m… I’m gonna—”

Max tucks your hair behind your ear so he can see the wrecked, dazed expression on your face. “We’re going to fill you up, honey. Let you prove that you're a nice girl. That sound like fun?”

“Yes,” you moan, trying to maintain eye contact with Max even as your vision blurs with tears, “s’good. Need to come, Detective. Please.”

Tim spanks your ass again, his mouth slurping indecently at your backside, his fingers coaxing you to a high you don’t see coming. Your thighs shake uncontrollably as he rubs up against your g-spot, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream as your entire body seizes. 

“There she is,” purrs Max, “such a nice girl, asking before she comes. How does your pretty kitty feel, baby?”

“Mmmsogood.” It's all a jumble in your mouth as your tension dissolves. Behind you, Tim is so gentle, licking up the release that has dripped down your thighs and tastefully avoiding your pussy. 

Max caresses your cheek. “Check in with me, honey. You want to keep going?”

You nod vigorously, flexing your fingers. Max intertwines his hand with yours, squeezing. “I want you in my mouth, Max. Wanna make you feel good.”

He grins crookedly, making eye contact with the detective behind you. Tim’s eyes are black, bright as a moonlit lake, his cock tenting his pants. Max isn't much better off. Your body will do that to a man. A woman. Fucking anyone. 

He’s just better at controlling himself. He’s had seventy years of practice. 

Max’s eyes don't waver from Tim as he speaks to you. “Want our nice detective inside you, baby?”

“Oh, please,” you gasp. “Please fill me up, sir.”

Max cocks his head toward Tim. “I think she's been good enough. Don’t you?”

Tim nods. You have. You’ve been so good. He’ll give you any goddamn thing you want. He’ll throw himself at your feet time and time again if it means you’ll look at him this way. Over your shoulder, you meet his eye, smiling sweetly enough to give him a toothache. 

“I’ll be a good girl, Detective.”

The glint of the metal cuffs reflects in his eyes, and he looks like an animal. 

Both he and Max shuck down their zippers, but it’s Tim’s hands that grab for you, hauling you backward by your hips and wrapping one large hand around the chain between your cuffs. Pulling hard, he forces your body upright as Max settles in front of you. 

You look up through your lashes at your husband, who tangles his fingers in your hair and yanks your head back. You’re effectively suspended in the air by both men, your hips sorely rubbing against the arm of the sofa. It’s intoxicating. 

Between your kiss-bruised lips, Max watches your fangs protrude, and he tuts. 

“Gonna have to learn to control yourself, baby. Otherwise, this is gonna hurt for me.”

You swallow hard, retracting the sharp points of your teeth back into your gums. Max sings his praises by pulling out his hard cock and slapping it playfully against your cheek. Moaning his name, you begin to drool, the need to please igniting your body into action, your fuse lit from both ends. 

Behind you, a warm, hard length rests between your asscheeks, and your back arches as best it can with Tim pulling at your cuffs. “Mmm, you’re so big, Detective,” you croon. “Is it gonna fit?”

Tim tugs roughly at the cuffs, a deep noise like a growl leaving his lips. “Gonna fuckin’ make it fit.”

“Open up,” says Max, guiding his cock to the seam of your mouth. “Open, and he’ll stuff your pretty little cunt.”

You part your lips and stick out your tongue, eager to take your husband’s big cock into your mouth. He’s long, thick, ridged with veins that you could trace with your eyes closed. But he doesn't like it when you close your eyes. He wants to watch you take him. 

He pushes the tip into your hot, wet mouth, lip curling to reveal sharp teeth glinting white in the firelight. Your skin is pleasantly sticky with warmth, your mascara smudged beneath your eyes. Tim grasps the base of his cock, smearing his precum through your folds and catching on your clit. You moan around Max’s cock, letting him slide deeper down your throat at the same time the detective’s cock notches inside your cunt and begins to sink inside you. 

Tim’s free hand grabs your hip to steady himself. Fuck, you're goddamn tight—warm and wet, your greedy pussy sucks him in, wrenching open around his length. His nostrils flare with self-restraint, the Herculean task of maintaining some composure even as his entire body thrums with the need to take you, to use you like a pretty doll and relieve all his stress. 

What the fuck is happening to me? 

“She’ll let you,” says Max, and Tim has to blink hard to see the man across from him. “She’ll let you use her. She likes being treated like a cumslut. Right, honey?”

Your fingers flex, locking around Tim’s wrist, and you bob your head around Max’s cock. “Shit, that’s right,” growls your husband. “Feel that, Detective? She’s fuckin’ begging to be filled up. Don’t go easy on her; she won’t be happy.”

Tim feels the rest of you give, and his hips bump into your ass. “Fuck,” he sighs. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

The fire's embers crackle against his back. He’s where he belongs. 

His first thrust is experimental, watching the way your ass jiggles and your nails dig into his wrist, your throat contracting around Max’s cock. His second is indulgence: a slow drag out, back in, savouring the way your walls suffocate him. By the third, he’s lost control. 

He begins to fuck you hard, the momentum of his thrusts forcing Max’s cock down your throat. “Je—fuck,” spits Max, fisting your hair, transfixed by the tears brimming in your waterline, the delicious slide of his length along the walls of your hot throat. “Such a fuckin’ pro. Gonna turn me into a two-pump chump. Gonna fuckin’ embarrass me in front of our guest.”

Tim grits his teeth as he pounds you, relishing his total control over your body, bending it to his will. You're so fucking good, so sweet, and he doesn't know why he ever suspected you. 

He should turn in his badge for pointing a gun at you. 

You whine around Max’s cock when Tim grinds deep, the head of his dick kissing your cervix, your eyes rolling back in your head. He feels you shudder underneath him and does it all over again, fucking you hard, deep, mercilessly. 

You swallow Max down to the base, wiggling your tongue along the vein on his length. “Gonna fuckin’ come if you keep doing that,” he groans, but you're undeterred. You hum, the vibrations coursing through his body, and his balls pull up, emptying his cum down your throat in rhythmic pulses. 

“Fuck.” Max pulls out of your mouth just to spill the last of his cum on your bruised lips, painting you white. “That’s my fucking girl. Show me.”

You open your mouth again, tongue lolling out to proudly display his release. He rubs his thumb over your chin and spits into your mouth. 

“Now swallow.”

You do, gulping down his cum and showing him your clean tongue when you're done. Max smirks, too damn proud for his own good. “Made you cry.”

You have little room left in your head to bask in his praise. Tim is taking charge, engulfed in the ecstasy of fucking you, his hips punching hard into your ass and forcing your back to bow with the grip he maintains on the handcuffs. Your next orgasm is approaching, your clit rubbing against the arm of the sofa and sending electrical tremors to your core. 

But Max is still steel-hard despite his orgasm, watching the way your ass bounces with the force of Tim’s thrusts, your bound hands collected in a useless pile at your back, the breathy moans that leave your mouth. “Gonna need to take a break from breaking her, Detective. I want in, too.”

Some territorial part of him snaps and claws, too consumed by your body to let another man near it. Max clicks his tongue, giving Tim a dangerous smile. “Be careful, Rockford. Don’t get greedy with your treat.”

A strangled “unh” is your input, eyes shuttering as Tim reaches deep inside you again, mounting your orgasm to a foregone conclusion. Max sees the glaze drip down over your eyes, and decides to watch you come apart under a different man’s cock. “Spoiled, honey,” he mutters. “You’re spoiled.”

You come hard, joints locking and thighs squeezing Tim’s where they keep you spread apart. Your entire body jolts with electrical pulses, the pleasure coursing white-hot through your useless veins. He holds you in place, impaled on his dick, writhing around to get as much of him inside you as you possibly can. Tim grits his teeth, a faint whimper escaping his throat. The feeling of your pussy contracting around him, soaking his length, has him dizzy, close to keeling over—the scent of you, the warmth of your tight cunt, the way you coo his name and call him sir. Thank you for letting me come, sir. Fuck, sir, you feel so good inside me. Don’t leave me, sir.  

He doesn't ever want to leave this fucking house. 

Max slides his palm over your spine and you melt under it. “Come on, honey, let’s get you up. I’m in the mood to share some more.” 

You whine as Tim reluctantly pulls out, weeping precum into your used hole. He’s going to fucking die if he doesn't come soon. 

He helps you upright, kissing all the way up your spine and enjoying the soft hums of pleasure that emit from your lips. He wants to stay forever. He wants to bury himself inside you and never pull away. 

“Mmm, Detective,” you purr. “So strong.”

“Yours,” he grumbles, his plush, wet mouth feverishly tracing a path along your jaw. “‘m yours.”

“Hear that, Maxie?” You beam at your husband, threading your fingers through Tim’s behind your back. “He’s mine.”

Max grins. “Let him prove it. C’mere, honey.”

Tim walks you to the couch and helps you kneel, settling behind you. Sitting in his lap, his mouth on your throat, you watch Max approach, slowly fisting himself. He kneels, too, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit. You gasp his name, your back arching, and Tim uses the opportunity to slot himself at your entrance, sinking you down on his cock with none of the care he took the first time around. 

He’s deeper at this angle, grinding up against your front wall, absconding with any attention he had for staving off his orgasm. His teeth nip your earlobe, your jaw, one arm banding around your waist and squeezing your breast. 

In front of you, Max grips himself and continues to rub your clit with the head of his cock. You mewl like a cat, and Tim groans, burying his face in your neck. 

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he hisses, his hips bucking up into you. “Jesus, baby.”

“He’s a blasphemer,” teases Max. 

“Good,” you sigh, your head falling back onto Tim’s shoulder. The scent of leather and sweat engulfs your heightened senses, and the erratic thrum of his pulse echoes in your ears. His blood is warm, thick, rich—

Just a taste, you think, your eyes drooping at the very thought. Just one taste. I’ll be good…

Max coaxes you to another high with the pressure at your clit, but when he sees your mouth drop, he takes it away from you. You pout, petulant as ever, and Max mirrors it mockingly. 

“One dick inside you isn't good enough?” He shuffles closer, yanking your head back by your hair and kissing you hard. His tongue dips into your mouth, and your fangs begin to descend, catching his lip before he breaks away. 

Max prods his lip with his thumb and watches the blood bead, reaching out to smear the small crimson stain onto your lips. Hungrily, you lick it up, the cat with the cream, staring up at him with those faux-innocent eyes. 

He snarls, fitting the head of his cock at your already-filled entrance. “Relax.” It’s Tim's raspy voice, mouth still fixed to your throat. You sink into him, letting Max open you up wide. 

“That’s fuckin’ it, baby,” says your husband, smoothing his hand over your belly and wrenching open your hole to fit himself next to the detective. “Feel us in here?”

“Unnghhh.” Your mouth is open, your pearly fangs glinting in the dim light. Tim drags his nose up your throat and opens his eyes to study your face in the moment of pleasure. 

He barely registers the too-sharp teeth, the blackened veins crawling from your eyes. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It's all he knows as he begins to fuck you in tandem with your husband. His body vibrates with desire. His head is static. He belongs to you. 

You’re so full. You're going to burst, and they're relentless, uncaring, caught up in the list and pheromones and perhaps the competition of seeing who can get you there first. You can only manage faint squeaks as they repeatedly take you, your body suspended, a pretty toy they get to use as they like. It’s so erotic that your cheeks burn, your core building with the pressure of another orgasm. 

So fuckin’ tight.

Such a pretty fuckin’ doll, letting us use your body.

Gonna take our cum, baby? You gonna keep it all safe inside you?

She’s coming. Looks so pretty when she comes. 

Come, pretty girl, and we’ll fill you up. Give you a nice treat.

You no longer know who’s speaking. It's all rolling around in your head, the smell of blood pounding in your skull, the temptation to turn your head to the side and taste the nectar from his throat. Your orgasm devastates you, your body quivering, both men lavishing their tongues and mouths over your skin as they continue to wreck your cunt. 

Fingers flex against your ribcage, your wrist, and Tim is coming, his teeth bared against your temple and the leather holsters on his shoulders scraping wetly against your back as he grinds into you and stays there. His hot cum pumps into you, splattering your walls and Max’s cock. His balls continue to empty inside you as your husband reaches his peak, nudging your chin upward so he can sink his teeth into your throat, gulping down your blood. 

Max’s head goes fuzzy with your taste, sweet and soft as velvet as it slides down his tongue. You moan at the feeling of his cum filling you up at the same time he depletes you of blood you don't need. They both empty themselves inside you and let your body slump against him. You hear the rustle of a key in your handcuffs and feel them release, falling to the floor. 

Max and Tim ease out of you, and you turn around to lower yourself onto Tim’s hard chest, toying with the buttons of his shirt. Behind you, Max scoops up globs of cum that have slipped out of your used hole and stuffs it back inside. 

Tim’s eyes are fixed to you, dark and gentle, his hand gently squeezing your wrists. “Did I hurt you?”

“You couldn't hurt me,” you purr, sliding your hands under his collar and threading your fingers through his tousled hair. “You're so sweet to me, Detective. So big and strong.”

He trails his fingers up your back until he can cup your face in his hands, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Your teeth…,” he murmurs, a vague expression of puzzlement on his face. 

“You aren’t going to take me down to the station, are you, Detective?” You curl your finger around a lock of silver hair, pouting down at him. 

“No, baby.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. “I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I’d never. You’re safe. Safe with me.”

You beam at him and playfully nip his nose. “You’re a good detective, Mr. Rockford. You’ll find the killer soon.”

He nods vigorously. “I will.”

“And you’ll put them away,” you say, biting your lip as you slowly unbutton his shirt. “Because you're so good.”

“I’m good,” he echoes, unable to tear his eyes from yours. His body feels limp, calm, satiated, when he's touching you this way. The job disappears. The stress disappears, the exhaustion and the malaise. Humankind is a pathology, and you are his cure. 

“Max,” you coo, resting your cheek on Tim’s chest and listening to his strong heartbeat. “I like him.”

Max hums, his knuckles gently dragging up and down your spine. “I know, baby. You wanna keep him?”

Quietly, you nod, littering kisses from his chest to his neck. You indulge in the fluttering pulse beneath his jaw. Tim smiles, sedated, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

Max nods, giving your ass a playful squeeze. “Okay, honey. Go on—ask him.”

You prop yourself up on Tim’s chest and trail your fingers through his beard. “Do you wanna stay with me?”

Tim’s brows crease. “You want me to stay?”

“Forever,” you whisper conspiratorially, your fingers drumming an eager little dance on his chest. “I’ll make you real happy. I promise.”

Tim sees the points of your canines, the veins bleeding from your darkening eyes, and feels no fear. He lets you tip his head back, baring his throat, and he lets you lick a bold stripe up his neck. My answer is yes, he thinks, and he hopes you can hear him, crawling happily down into a hell that will warm his body for eternity. 

Peace overcomes him as your eyes meet his, and your fangs sink in deep, the light slowly dimming to a faint memory. 

CASE CLOSED. 

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #tim rockford x reader #merge mansion #tim rockford #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x you #max phillips x reader #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x reader x tim rockford #max phillips fanfiction #tim rockford fanfiction

[bihanspookies]

If you’re willing to do requests: MK1 Earthrealm Champions with a reader who’s a vigilante assassin?

Helll yeah bruudddeerrr, let’s get it

I’m writing it as them finding out what you do 🧐

Johnny Cage

• You saw how he reacted to Liu Kang, Bi Han and Kuai Liang showing up at his front step. He didn’t believe diddly squat until he saw magical shit up close and personal. You think he’d be a little more open to finding out you’re a vigilante assassin but—

• When he first finds out of course he’s in disbelief, he’s standing there with his hands on his hips and looking at you like 🤨

• He’s known you for YEARS how could he have not known this?

• Honestly though he finds it hot.

• Brains, beauty AND deadly?? Sign him tf up.

• Now he knows for sure to not mess with you.

“Wait wait wait so you’re saying that was you who took that guy out? Get outta here.” He waves a hand dismissively at you, using his other hand to take a sip of his drink. You both had been drinking the night away casually, swapping random stories when you had let it slip about your little ‘side job’.

“It’s true Johnny, not quite sure how I can prove it you but,” You shrug, downing the rest of your drink and popping one of the table snacks into your mouth. Johnny can only look at you, lips parted in suspicion as he tries to process the information you just told him.

“So the—?”

“Yeah.”

“And the guy—?”

“Mhm.”

“….Fucking amazing.”

Kenshi

• He isn’t quite sure how to handle it tbh. One on hand he understands wanting to punish those that deserve it but on the other he doesn’t like that you’re putting yourself in danger, no matter how good you say you are.

• He knew something was up with you the more he got to know you. How you’d seem more tired on certain days, bruises that were way too severe from just a simple sparring session, or how you’d suddenly take interest in someone from Kenshi’s past.

• He got extra worried when he saw you snooping through his office one day, filing through some old papers before claiming that you were ‘looking for something else’.

• He followed you one night, using Sento to guide him with ease throughout the city. It was late, raining, and he was starting to get frustrated the longer he tailed you.

• Finally he feels you stop, slipping quietly into a building from the fire escape. He’s not too far behind, climbing up and through the window just in time to see you slice open the neck of some poor unsuspecting man.

• He jumps down and makes his way to you, ready to tear you a new one until he sees that it’s someone from his yazuka days.

“The hell are you doing??” He hisses your name, Sento clutched tight in his tattooed hands as he approaches. He glances down at the bloody body on the floor, muffled gurgled sounds of his former enemy choking on his blood.

“The hell are you doing here?” You retort back, wiping your blade clean with your shirt and tucking it back into its sheath.

Kenshi doesn’t know what to say, too stunned at just witnessing you murder someone without even batting an eye. You can see the gears turning in his head and decide to let him in on your secret other life. You’ve known him for years, you can trust him.

“Vigilante… assassin?” He doesn’t like how the words taste on his tongue, grimacing at he tries to connect them and you together despite what he just witnessed.

You had walked and talked, disposing of the body as you did so and soon you find yourselves sitting on top of another building.

For the first time in a while you feel nervous, fiddling with your nails as you watch him soak in this new information.

“I just… be careful alright? I don’t like it but I can’t stop you.”

Kung Lao

• Like Johnny he also doesn’t believe you at first, claiming that you’re just making shit up to have a one up on him.

• You know that scene in the incredibles when Helen spins around in the chair waiting for Bob and she’s like “is this rubble 🤨.” That’s Kung Lao when you come home late one night covered in blood and debris.

• He’s immediately on you, asking where the hell you’ve been while also questioning why you look like you just came out of the Koliseum.

• Usually you’re so careful when coming back, slipping in and out like a snake but this particular job had nearly gone wrong so you’d been a little reckless when coming back inside your home.

• Knowing there was no way out of this one, you sat him down and started to explain everything. It’s a good thing Kung Lao didn’t play poker because his poker face was absolutely awful. His facial features showing exactly what he was feeling in the moment.

• When you finished, he was silent for a few moments before letting out a chuckle. He gave a look of ‘really?’ And you could only sit there and watch him try to soak up everything you said.

“So you’re a sort of crime fighting assassin? Please, you insult me.” He crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrow raised and a bit of a smug smirk on his lips. You can only huff, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

“Lao it’s true, I don’t know what else you want me to tell you.”

His smile slowly dies off his lips, noticing your posture and the lack of humor in your voice. You’ve never been one to lie to him so why start now? It starts to lock into place when previous instances start to pop into head and suddenly he’s sitting up straighter in his chair.

“You’re… really going out and doing these things?”

Instead of answering you turn and lift your shirt up, showcasing the gash on your lower back that was caked with dry blood. He hisses, running his fingertips across the top before pulling back and lowering your shirt.

“Not quite sure I believe you yet but let’s get you cleaned up first.”

When he finally does accept what you do, he’s very excited to have you fight along his side, wanting to low key turn any fight you do into a competition even more now.

Raiden

• You know that face he did when Kitana said that she heard he has a crush on her. Yeah that’s him when he finds out.

• At first he’s stuck processing it, because he never thought that you of all people would do that.

• But the more he thinks about it the more he’s impressed and although he wishes that you would leave that stuff to the law, he knows what it’s like to having to take matters into your own hands.

• He admires you for being able to go out and just take someone out with no thoughts about it whatsoever.

• But also he can’t help but worry every time you disappear because now he knows what you’re truly up to. He knows you can take care of yourself but still.

• It’s late at night when he catches you slipping out, softly calling out your name to stop you.

“Another job?”

You nod, no expression whatsoever as you linger by the window. Your gloved hand taps silently against the frame, wanting to reassure Raiden that you’d be fine but truthfully these things could go either way and you didn’t want to give him the false hope.

He only gives a singular nod, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes in your appearance.

“May the Elder Gods protect you.”

And he bows and smiles, a barely noticeable one but it’s enough to have you feeling confident and excited to come back home to him.

“I will.”

He watches as you hop out the window, feeling a sense of odd pride swirl in his heart.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #Johnny cage x reader #kenshi x reader #kung lao x reader #raiden x reader #johnny cage #kenshi #kung lao #raiden #my writings

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Happiness— Jack Hughes

Summary: In which Jack and your marriage has run its course.

Content Warning; Angst without a happy ending, divorce, emotional distress, etc

Pairings: Fem Reader x Jack Hughes, Fem Reader x Nico Hischier

Inspired by ‘Happiness’ By Taylor Swift

All the years I’ve given is just shit we’re dividing up

You stared at Jack hopelessly. You and him had been together since you were 15 years old. Now you sat oceans away from each other. The lawyer cleared her throat, “So all we’re doing here today is dividing assets before we get further into the divorce.” There was less than ten feet separating you and your husband of 4 years. However you felt like you were standing on separate continents. Danielle, the lawyer continued, “Neither of you brought dependents into the marriage is that correct?” You cleared your throat, “Yes, neither of us has children.”

Danielle nodded, “So it seems all we really need to cover is the properties. There’s the skyrise apartment in New Jersey, the high rise loft in NYC, the condo in Tampa and the apartment in Toronto.” Jack spoke up, “I only want the apartment in Jersey and Toronto.” Danielle turned to you with an expecting look on her face. You looked at Jack and let out a defeated sigh, “That’s fine. I didn’t come here to fight.” Jack shook his head slightly and faced Danielle who went on to explain the regulations on divorce and ownership of properties.

I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes me spot next to you.

This week had been really rough for you. You and Jack’s fifth anniversary would have been this week, and working so closely with Jack wasn’t helping. You had been cleaning your lens to your camera you’d used for tonight’s game when the players filed off the ice. Jack ending the line of players, and scoffing to himself as you smiled at him kindly. He walked past you and stopped when he he heard a feminine voice call out to him.

Out of habit you looked up to watch the scene unfold. A beautiful woman dressed in a long bright red furry coat and black leather pants with perfectly blown out black curls and bright red lipstick approached him and enveloped him into her embrace. You couldn’t make out the words that were being shared but the encounter ended with the woman kissing Jack warmly. You felt your heart drop into your stomach and you shoved your stuff into your bag and hurried to your office to upload the photos to your computer and hard drive.

No one teaches you what to do, when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him too.

The holiday season crept up on you this year. You’d been too wrapped up in rebuilding your life and relationship with yourself am your divorce. You had been roped into doing a Secret Santa with the players and the other social media administrators. You were somewhat disappointed in the fact you pulled Jack’s name. The holidays had always been the best time of year for you two. This would be the first year you weren’t together.

Jack was officially cursed, his girlfriend, Tessa had just found out that she was pregnant and then he was roped into doing Secret Santa. And with his luck this year he drew your name. He hadn’t spoken to you in a higher capacity then, “Are we done here?” Or “Where should I stand?” since the divorce was made final. He’d always sneered in your direction whenever he noticed you lingering or trying to be friendly with him. He just wasn’t ready for it to be amicable yet. He figured he’d probably just get you a candle or a gift card or something. If you’d gotten him you’d do the same thing.

You’d known Jack had grown to dislike the holidays since he and his siblings were all split up for Christmas due to their hockey schedules. You also knew that the Devils didn’t play again until the weekend after New Year’s. So you decided to buy two first class tickets to Vancouver for Jack and Luke, admittedly you went over the budget but you had saved the money all year for you and Jack to go for Christmas anyways. So you put those in a cute envelope and wrote a small note and slipped it in the envelope before sealing it and writing Jack’s name in beautiful calligraphy.

You slipped it onto the table of gifts on your way to your office the morning of the exchange. You went to your office and got to work updating Instagram and Twitter accounts. Eventually you ventured out to go get a cup of coffee, you had to walk past the table of gifts so you figured you would check to see if your gift was there and it wasn’t so you assumed it may have been in the possession of your secret Santa still. You went to get your coffee and drank it before rinsing your mug and putting it in the dish drainer after. You returned to your office and got out your camera and went to get some practice shots.

Hours later after practice everyone was ready to do the gift exchange so you all filed into the conference room. The gifts were passed out and you watched quietly as Jack picked up his envelope and Nico commented on the pretty handwriting. Luke glanced over at you, recognizing the handwriting from a birthday card he’d received from you and Jack a few years earlier. Jack opened the envelope and immediately broke out into a huge grin, “Because I know you miss them. Go home(Take Luke too.) It’s two first class tickets to Vancouver.” Luke looked at you as Jack looked around the room, “Who got these?” Everyone stayed quiet and Tyler, a right winger ended the silence by opening his gift which turned out to be a pair of arthritis socks given to him by Ethan.

You went to open yours, hopeful since it was a decent sized box. Your smile flattened as you lifted the top of the box. Inside were a box of tissues, a bottle of 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner conditioner, eye masks, concealer, some breath mints and some baby wipes. Tyler’s shit eating grin he’d been sporting the entire ordeal dropped as he caught a glimpse of the contents of the gift. He looked up, “You better be fucking around Hughes. You didn’t give her just that right? I mean how big of a douche can you be?” You waved it off, “It’s fine Ty. I don’t mind. There’s always a bad gift right?”

Nico shook his head spoke up, “No way sugar, there’s bad gifts like what I got and there’s unacceptable gifts.” Jack looked down at his feet, feeling internally bad upon seeing tears forming in your eyes as you defended probably the worst gift in the history of Secret Santa. Luke turned to his brother and spoke in a low tone, “You know she got you right? I mean you were her husband for 4 years you have to recognize her handwriting.” Jack froze as he looked at his brother who’d found a picture of a birthday card he’d received that had Jack’s name in the identical handwriting. He looked up to find you had left the room, leaving your gift on the table.

There’ll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you

It was the end of the season Devil’s banquet and you still had to shoot photos. You were sitting on the edge of the stage in a silk pale blue shimmery gown with a slit up the side and your hair pulled back and light lipstick adorning your otherwise makeup free face. You had your eye pressed against the viewfinder as you took pictures of the team and their significance others. Your eyes admittedly landing on Jack and his girlfriend more than they should. You were slightly startled when Nico sat down beside you, “So how’s my best girl doing tonight?”

You laughed, “Nico just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I have to be your best girl.” Nico smiled, “I know, but you’re still my best girl.” You smiled, “I’m alright Honey. You look nice.” Nico pressed a kiss against your cheek, “You look like Cinderella.” You giggled, “Does that make you Prince Charming?” Nico grinned, “Darling, I’d be Shrek if it made you happy.”

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness. You haven’t met the new me yet, and I think she’ll give you that.

You were straightening your office up before heading out for the weekend. You were logging out of your desktop when a knock on your door startled you. Jack smiled softly and held his hands up in surrender, “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I’m sorry.” You smiled as you scrawled a note for yourself to change your water filter next week, “You’re good Jack, what’s up? I’m on my way out now.” Jack rubbed his hands against his jeans, “I just want to apologize for everything, the divorce and all.”

You smiled, “Don’t worry about it Jack.” Jack shook his head in disagreement, “No way, I was royally shitty to you before, during and after the divorce was finalized. I’m sorry I treated you like that. I just guess I didn’t realize that my best friend was going through a divorce too not just me.” You smiled softly, “It’s okay Jack. It was your first time going through a divorce too. We just weren’t meant to be married anymore. I mean we got married like 5 seconds after we graduated high school. It wasn’t realistically going to work.” Jack laughed softly, “Are you sure we’re all good?”

You grinned as you crossed the room and engulfed him into a warm hug, “I’m going home to my boyfriend and your girlfriend is having a baby Hughie. We’re all good.” Jack smiled, “Thanks Y/n, I’ve missed being friends.” You smiled as you and him exited your office, “Me too. Drive safe Hughes, tell the boys I said hello and give your mom my love.” You walked away from Jack finally finding your inner happiness.

#fanfic #hockey #hockey player x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl #jack hughes x reader #jack x reader #jack hughes #new jersey devils #nj devils #divorce

[wayfayrr]

Hello! If I may, I’d like to make a request.

When I was little (between 4 and 8), my brother and I played Ocarina of Time constantly. It was our go-to game when hanging out. We replayed it and found all secrets and stuff. I was wondering if you could do a platonic self aware OOT!Link one shot? One where Link considers the player to be like a sibling to him since they grew up together in a way?

Thank you so much! I really enjoy your work ❤️

you're very welcome anon! this was such a sweet request to write!! I went with the post timeskip link for this seeing as I've already written one for Majora's mask link and I thought it would be more interesting to have that difference between the two pieces <3 I hope you'll enjoy this

[masterlist]

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while… do you still have that old copy of Ocarina of time we used to play together? I’ve been kinda wanting to replay it. It’s a bit of a pain to get a new one or an emulator though so…”

“Uh? I think so, I can check in my attic later and drop it around your place tomorrow if I can?”

“That sounds perfect, thanks for the favour man.”

That was a fairly productive phone call, now I hopefully won’t have to mess about with an emulator or shell out for the subscription to play it again. Seeing as Nintendo doesn’t want to make their old catalogue accessible. All I need to do on my end is to wait and possibly google how to set up an N64 in the meantime.

Turns out that we did still have the old thing, and that it isn’t all that hard to set up either so it’s not like it takes too long for me to hear the calmingly melancholic tones of the game’s opening theme. Our old save file is still there too, although some of the stats on the file seem to have gotten a little bit corrupted because I’m convinced we completed it fully. Although it’s been what like 10 years or more since I would’ve last played, it makes sense that I might just be misremembering things. No harm in seeing where we left off though is there?

Well even though the file says otherwise, looking through Link’s inventory really wants to disprove that - there’s something with the same sprite as Zelda’s letter where it should just be an empty slot. It’s not got a name, if I hover over it it simply brings up a missing value error and the button prompt me to read it. It’s not like there’s any issue if I did open it, it’s an old save file so even if it does corrupt I won’t lose anything. 

Nothing happened, just a fade to blank before it glitched out and the inventory screen popped back up so that I could close it and have a look around…

How did Link turn around as I was paused in the inventory and how did his face get so close to the screen?

“[Name]? I knew you’d be back at some point! I knew you wouldn’t just leave your older brother for good… you wouldn’t would you?”

“...How do you know my name..?”

I know that Ai has gotten incredibly good recently but this is an N64, an unmodded one at that, so whatever the hell is happening right now can’t be due to that. This feels like it could be the start to a creepypasta though with everything going on right now - is this like a real life ben drowned - no it can’t be, he’d be crying blood if it were the case and he wouldn’t be as friendly either. 

“Because you told me it all those years ago when you first played through the game? You always spoke to me like I was a real person, like you saw me as your older brother, so it’s only natural that I started to see you like a little sibling right? Then when you disappeared I got so worried, It’s been so long but you’ve gotten so much older! Did you pull the mastersword yourself, because this much time can’t have really passed can it?... Can it?”

He looks almost like he’s about to cry, I should be caref- why am I so worried about hurting the feelings of a fictional character? Is it cause he sees me like a sibling, a younger one; because he knows me from when I was younger; or because he seems so attached to me already? Maybe I should just… turn it off so I don’t have to deal with it.

“I don’t remember how long it’s been, a good few years at least, Since I’ve played it. I wasn’t exactly planning to-”

“Is that what you used to control me!? I’ve never been able to get a good look at it before. Would you mind bringing it closer?”

“...Yeah I can bring it closer.”

The way he interrupted me was so so sad, he’s forcing himself to be cheery when he looks like he’s about to break down, like how an older brother would act. He really sees himself as my older brother doesn’t he? I have to admit that the way he’s leaning against the screen like an excited kid is also pretty cute I won’t lie to myself, if it weren’t for how insane the situation is I don’t think I’d mind him being my younger brother. He’s younger than me now anyway so that makes far more sense. 

Is the screen cracking beneath him? 

It’s definitely cracking under his weight, there are seconds left before it shatters.

“It’s so simple and yet it was the reason that you were able to-”

Glass can only last so long. And now he’s out, lying on my floor in a shocked heap with glass shards surrounding and covering him. After a couple of seconds of neither of us knowing what to do, we both snap into action at the same time, while I try to help him up and check for any serious wounds… he’s just laughing with the widest goofiest smile on his face, grabbing at my arms like I’m nothing but a wisp of a dream. 

“I - wow I - I could never have imagined that I could - that this - that this was even an option for me…”

“But I can be your brother in person now can’t I?”

#ALSO AAAAAA #POSTING THIS I JUST SAW I'VE HIT 300 ON TUMBLR #I'm putting together an event for everyone right now that'll be up in the next couple of days #THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH <333 #link x reader #yandere link #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #moss✦writes #self aware au

[frost-queen]

To his liking (Reader x Steve Raglan /W. Afton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

A/n: This is my first time doing something for this fandom. I hope it is any good as I didn't have much time for my regular request so I whipped something up. Summary: In need of a new job you find yourself at Steve Raglan's office hoping he would find a job for you. [part 2 & part 3 ]

Your knee trembled nervously. Sweaty palms rubbing against your legs. You had read the posters in the little waiting room numerous times. All silly adds with cheesy lines. Your gaze drifted to the left where an elderly lady was typing loudly in her computer. Her face hidden behind the big box of a screen. The smell of her coffee adding a new scent to the already muffy smelling room.

You seated yourself better, feeling that your bottom had been hurting from sitting on that darn wooden stool for what seemed ages. Four wooden stools lined up against the walls in order to wait. Beside the stool on your right was a small table with old magazines. At least dated from five years back. Looking back around you started to wonder why you were even her. Yet the answer was very clear.

This was your last chance. Your last chance at making a change. Rubbing your sweaty palms over your legs again, you let yourself slouch down in the chair. Just a few more minutes and you might call it off. Simply get up and walk out as you weren’t getting anywhere. Waiting for ages. Waiting for that wooden door to finally open and allow you to meet your future.

The clock ticking almost tauntingly by the minute. It was agonizing to wait this long. It was almost as if they were testing your duration. See how long you would stand with it before throwing in the towel. Sighing again you moved your bottom to the back of the stool, leaning forwards. Palms in your hair. The lady behind her desk kept typing loudly without a care or notice of you.

This was it. You had enough. Leg shaking nervously. You jumped up with a deep breath. At the same time you got up, opened the wooden door. No one standing in the door opening. It made you stare at the door wondering if anyone else before you would head out.

A slim figure wearing glasses opened the door more standing in the opening. – “Y/n Y/l/n just who I was expecting.” – he said moving a bit back to create an opening. Somehow you kept staring at him. He chuckled waving you over. – “Come, come don’t be shy. I don’t bite.” – he teased with half a smirk.

Walking up to him you saw the lady behind the compute follow your movement with her head. Her expression dull and neutral. Pausing briefly in the door opening you looked up to the man. He smiled invitingly at you. With one soft breath you entered more as the door got shut behind you. – “Please, sit.” – he offered gesturing at another one of those uncomfy chairs. You sat down looking around his office. He walked behind you across towards the coffeemaker. You kept your gaze in front of you, pressing your hands between your legs.

A name clip standing on his desk. Raglan it read. Steve Raglan. – “Coffee?” – you heard him call out. Humming loud you snapped out of your little thought bubble. – “Oh uhm no thank you.” – you answered moving your hands away. Raglan went to his desk, sitting down across from you. He set his coffee mug aside. He leaned a bit back taking a file from his desk. He opened it leaning fully back.

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his finger over his beard and mouth. You kept a close eye on his expression. His seriousness when his eyes trailed over the words. The way you felt a bit shy around him. He took a soft gasp of breath leaning forwards to the desk, laying your file down. – “I’m going to be honest with you Y/n… may I call you Y/n?” – he asked looking over at you.

You nodded hesitantly with a flush in your cheeks. – “With your record of work, it won’t be easy to find someone that would like to hire you.” – he said making you swallow nervously. – “Yelling and cursing at a parent.” – he read out loud with a slight shake of his head. – “Calling them a pervert and kicking them in the…” – he stopped as his gaze went up to you. – “Delicate area’s.” – he added waving his hand down his stomach to show you.

“That is unacceptable behaviour Y/n.”  - he went on picking up your file again. – “He had it coming.” – you mumbled. Raglan curling up a smile. – “I’m sure he did.” – he responded as it startled you that he had heard you. – “I’m not hear to judge you Y/n but that wasn’t your first fall-out.” – he looked down at your file, flipping a page.

And another one. – “You have a history of being violent.” – his gaze flashed up to you. Was there a hint of a smile on him? Did your violent history amuse him? He placed the file down again leaning forwards as he folded his hands before him. – “It’s not going to be easy for you Y/n.” – his words echoing like doomsday in your mind. Were you done for it?

“So you got nothing for me?” – you asked trying to hide your fear of having nothing. Raglan licked his lips leaning back in his chair. – “I’m afraid so.” – he replied watching you closely. You broke. Leaning back to look up at the ceiling with the deepest sigh. You were ready to get up and walk out. What use was staying here if he had nothing to offer you.

Raglan picked up on your urge to get up and walk out. He got up making you freeze half way from getting up. You watched him go around the desk to come lean against the edge on your side. It made you sit back down eager to know what he wanted to say.

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. – “I might have something for you.” – he started sparking up your interest. – “The hours are brutal and the pay-check even worse.” – he went on. – “I don’t care.” – you said eagerly grabbing onto the railing of the chair. Raglan smiled. – “Ever heard of Freddy fazzbear’s pizzeria?” – he asked. You shook your head. – “It was a big thing in the eighties.” – he added. – “Before it got shut down.” – he finished looking down at you.

He looked briefly over his shoulder to your file on his desk. – “I read in your file you played dress-up for kid’s parties a few years ago.” – you hummed loud to acknowledge him. Raglan chuckled softly removing himself slightly from the desk. His hand grabbed for your chin, tilting your head back. His eyes locking with yours.

Somehow you didn’t push his hands away. Actually finding it mesmerizing how they held you. – “How do you stand against masks?” – he asked. – “Although it would be a shame to hide that pretty face of yours behind one.” -  You felt your cheeks burn up from his words. – “What do I have to do?” – you asked as he let go of your chin. – “Dress up.” – he spoke plainly. – “I…I thought the place got shut down?” – you asked to be sure you had heard him correctly.

 “You’d make a fine addition to the… family.” – he answered deflecting your question. – “The kids will love you.” – he muttered to himself. He took you by your hands making you stand up. – “What do you say Y/n do you plan on staying?” – he asked holding your hands dearly.

Having no other option you accepted. It didn’t sound that bad. Dressing up for some kids. As long as there weren’t any rude or perverse parents to test your temper. Raglan curled up a sinister smile.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #william afton x y/n #steve raglan #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan fnaf #steve raglan x y/n #steve raglan fanfic #steve raglan fanfiction #steve raglan imagine #matthew lillard #springtrap #animatronics #fnaf fic #fnaf fanfiction #fnaf imagines #matthew lillard imagines #matthew lillard fics

[dearbraus]

Flowers Never Bend with Rainfall⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

— Wriothesley

⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, fem! reader, mentions of reader wearing a corset, gown and earrings, arranged marriage, original characters; reader has an unnamed family and older sister, nobility and high society's conventions, allusions to gendered familial roles, sfw. ⊹ Run time. 1.3k ⊹ Note. I have had such brainworms for this man since seeing him for the first time. I had to write something but didn't want to get too ahead of myself since we know nothing of him yet sooo I decided to start a new series of drabbles that will follow this plotline, reader, and Wriothesley. You can find it under the tag # flowers never bend and it will eventually be posted to my ao3 as a cohesive story <3

Your sister beams as she gives your appearance another once over. It's the fifth time in the past ten minutes that she’s turned to you with scrutiny in her eyes, adjusting a strand of your hair or smoothing out the crisp neckline of your dress– you must be perfection. Today you’re meeting him, the man your parents sold you to when you were no more than six years old. He had been a boy then too and just as much of an unwilling participant in the whole affair as you had. Perhaps it was cruel to blame him for your misfortunes. At least the two of you had been given the courtesy of a meeting, a single chance to rectify the will of your parents before they made plans to force the two of you down the aisle.

The day after her eighteenth birthday, your older sister had been married. A gaggle of small children soon followed. They made quite the army of troublemakers but she continued to grow round with one every few years because they were just so cute when they were little. She fancied herself a matchmaker and believed that she knew everything there was to know when it came to matters of the heart. But, what did marriage have to do with the heart when it was nothing more than a political arrangement? Your father had made thousands of those in his lifetime and he’d do thousands more by the time by the time his earthly body was returned to the waves.

There was nothing special or romantic about standing in the middle of the lobby at the Hotel Debord being primped and preened over like a porcelain doll. The seafoam-coloured walls make the contents of your stomach curdle uncomfortably though your favourite gown as a child had once been spun off the very same shade. Today you wore pink taffeta topped off with a lace-trimmed neckline and a little white bow placed carefully at your décolletage. It as though your childhood bedroom threw up on your seamstress and out came this dress.

“Did you know that your fiancé is a Duke?” your sister whispers as she ushers you over to one of the plush chairs, “That mean’s he comes from a very wealthy family, mhm, and is a very well respected man.”

The whale-boned corset beneath your dress keeps your spine straight as you sit and still your sister makes a point of pressing your shoulders back before taking her own seat, “Does he have a name?” You ask, placing one delicately gloved hand over the other.

A myriad of people file in and out of the hobby with what appears to be a purpose. You can’t but watch with curious eyes and the childish hope of discerning him from the crowd before he’s able to spot you. Like a flower, you’d wilt beneath his gaze and learn nothing more than the facade people like you and he were taught to wear like a second skin. Instead, you’re met with swishing skirts that ooze refinement and galloping pups in gaudy costumes. There is little to be gained from people watching carbon copies that chased the latest trends as if that would appease their archon.

“Wriothesley,” Your sister states as if the answer should be obvious to you.

The name hardly strikes a chord of recognition within you, you may have heard it in passing years ago but no new memories surface as you search for an inkling of familiarity. It was futile, your days within the court were limited as you much preferred the solace of your family's countryside estate. The quiet was nice. With no nightmare-inducing machinations to tower over you. The servants were friendly too and even with the tendrils of gossip that filled their quarters, they never seemed to judge you too harshly for having the privilege to shirk societal expectations.

“Does he have a surname?” Focusing your eyes on the ornate glass chandeliers that swing with each gentle breeze pushed in through the ever-revolving doors, you quell your growing need for some tangible information into a dismissive interest, “Or shall I just be known as the lady duke?”

Your sister's gaze is sharp as is how quickly she turns her head to face you, “Come now, you know it is inappropriate to make such comments,” She smiles at a passing stranger, and they smile back, “He is a good man, that much I know.”

Despite the sunny disposition that is quick to replace her annoyed expression, you can feel your sister’s ire simmering within her gaze. Light splinters from the artfully crafted crystalline chunks and dances along the slick tiled ground. The sight of it makes you dizzy but you enjoy the head rush as you settle your focus onto the reflective floor. A gloved and idle hand comes up to twirl the dangly earrings that weigh heavy on your lobes, smoothing your thumb against the drop pearl.

“How can you be certain that he is a good man if you do not even know his family’s name?”

It’s difficult to stifle the giggle that rises to your lips when she glares at you. You found in that moment that it was good she had not been blessed with a cryo vision because it would pale in comparison to the chill that settled over the table.

“If you were so curious perhaps you should have asked father,” she gritted out, “I am just here to ensure that you do not embarrass yourself in front of Wriothesley.”

“How kind of you dear sister,” you grin the way she hates, showing her all of your teeth, “Surely I could not know how to talk to a man at my advanced age of twenty-two without your steadfast guidance.”

“It is a wonder why Mother and father chose you for the duke and not I,” your sister muttered beneath her breath, hoping you did not hear her.

Green was an ugly shade on your sister but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. It was human nature and adults were far more like children than they liked to believe, coveting toys that didn’t belong to them.

Though, her ego would balloon to be ten times the size of her body should you ever dare to admit that you wished your parents had chosen her for their political gain and not you. You weren’t well suited for the things you supposed this Wriothesley would expect of you. Most days you spent more time with your nose buried in long-forgotten tomes than you did in etiquette lessons. Those were important, your mother once said, a man of such status had much social responsibility and as his wife, so would you. 

“What time did Father say we may expect his grace to grace us with his presence?”

If the two of you were at home, she might have snarled at you, “I do not find you amusing!”

A well-dressed man carrying a shiny silver platter approached the table. If he heard your bickering, he chose not to comment on it, “Your tea has arrived, ladies.”

“Sir, I fear you are mistaken” you stated, your voice growing timid as he began to unload the contents of the tray into your table, “We did not order any tea.”

“No, but he did.”

The “he” in question was an imposing man who hovered behind the waiter. Neither of you had noticed but your sister began to smile demure at him the moment she took notice of his presence. The first thing you noticed was the glinting silver handcuffs that hung off his belt like a warning and then the metal-clad fingerless gloves. The chains and chunks of alloy made the deep red tie he wore look silly and out of place but his keen, pale eyes made you shrink in your seat as they slid over your visage.

“May I present to you his grace, the Duke Wriothesley.”

Oh.

So this was the man your family intended for you to marry.

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.  

#flowers never bend #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wriothesley x you

[houseofevanbuckley]

Not even going anon for this q... please give us all more parents!bucktommy!!!!

Oh lord … I’m obsessed with them as parents, so it’s not a hardship at all

I want to go back to the start though, to how this family started.

They’ve been together for a few months when they have their first talk about having kids. Buck was babysitting Jee and took her to Tommy’s place since he has a garden and Tommy can’t stop thinking about it for days afterward. Buck in his garden with a kid. The sight was just so good, the way they played and ran around together.

Tommy can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s not the first time he thinks about it, to be honest. He loved to see Buck talking and helping Christopher with his homework and anything, really. Spending the day all three of them at a museum or park while Eddie can spend time with Marisol or for himself.

Tommy actually loves to make a date of anytime they have to babysit the kids, taking them all outside, parks, museums, theme parks, beach, you name it, and Tommy took them there.

So while they cuddle one day, he just asks if Buck ever thought about having his own one day.

And Buck turns around to look at Tommy, because he feels that as innocent as the question is, it is a sign of their growth as a couple, of Tommy thinking long term and he has to face the man for it.

Buck, who talks about how he felt when he held the baby, that he helped to conceive, for a few minutes and how his life just came to a halt. How seeing Jee for the first time on her mom’s chest had his heart squeezed.

He always assumed that his life would fall in line, the wife, the house, the kids.

But if he let the wife cliche go, he still thinks that he’d like the rest. The house, the kids.

And what he doesn’t say, the husband.

Tommy just hugs him tighter and confesses that when he came out, letting go of the potential of having kids was the hardest part, but that with how the world change he wanted to believe in it again.

It absolutely unlocks something between them, this talk of the future, of a future together and of shared dream.

That’s why when two years later, after their wedding, after their new house, Hen and Karen go to them when they had a call for a little boy. A three months old. The child is orphaned, no dad or grandparents filed anywhere, and no one is still alive on his mother's side.

They already had three foster kids, in addition to Denny so having a fifth child in the house would be a challenge, one that they would embrace but when the worker asked them if they had people in mind that would take the boy they thought of Buck and Tommy.

The boys who look at each other, hands clasping together while Karen shows pictures of a small blond boy bundled up in a green blanket.

Buck is the one who asks, “what do we have to do?” and by the squeezing he feels around his fingers from Tommy, it was the right thing to say.

Thanks to Karen and Hen having been exemplary in all the years of them taking kids in, and because it’s a baby, the process is sped up. Not that it’s fast or easy.

Just after the visit, Buck goes on a cleaning spree, pulling out a clipboard and going full Clipboard!Buck on himself and Tommy. The house has never been this clean since they moved in.

The garden is mowed, plants and trees are pruned.

Tommy has even been sent on the roof to clean it and he did with a smile, seeing how serious and excited Buck was, making himself even more excited for this new adventure with his husband.

When they go back to their respective stations after their two days off, each of them gather letters of recommendation and characters from their teams, which also announce to them all that they want to welcome that baby boy in their house.

It takes them a week to have the house ready and their letters from everyone, filling their foster parents’ file with the help of Hen and Karen.

Buck vibrating out of his skin each night while they cuddle, and Tommy doesn’t count how many times he caught Buck on baby clothes websites, but he’s just as bad as him. Having screenshoted so many cute onesies, his ads are now only baby formula and toys.

It takes them one more week before they get a call back from the agency for a first visit of their house and an interview.

They have to wait for three days for a feedback of that visit. Buck is a wreck and Tommy had been asked to stay grounded with how distracted he’s been.

Finally, they get a call for a second visit at their house with two workers this time. The questions are more in-depth.

A few days letter they have a call from Bobby saying that they had a call from the agency to talk about Buck and Tommy. And a day later, Lucy calls them with the same news. Quickly enough, Maddie and Tommy’s brother were called as well.

It takes them one more month, random visits and calls before they get the call.

They can take Noah home starting four days from now.

Buck pulls the clipboard out again, but this time he enrolls everyone.

Maddie and Chimney are sent to the shop to get the formula and diapers, mountains of each.

Tommy and Eddie are painting the guest room, Noah’s room. They agreed on a soft forest green for the walls, and blue for the ceiling with small white clouds.

Buck has Pinterest boards, ok? And he’s going to make this room the best room for a child.

May and Denny went to the shop to pick up plushies and games.

Buck is finally ordering all the onesies he and Tommy saw online and baby proofing the whole house: one cupboard, one drawer, one window at a time.

Bobby making food for them all and helping where he can.

One week later, the social worker come to their house. They’re alone. They wanted to welcome him, just them. Noah will be presented on Sunday to the whole family, but now it’s Thursday and the next 3 days are theirs, and only theirs.

Buck is the one to open the door, his breathing stuttering and his blood pumping in his ears, until he fully opens the door and his eyes fall on the car seat where Noah sleeps and everything quiet down.

He hasn’t felt this calm and quiet since his and Tommy’s first kiss, but after all, his world is changing again today and shouldn’t it warrant the same reaction?

The worker enters and does a last inspection, more a formality than anything else, but it could still mean that she’d leave with Noah.

She goes around the house and leave Noah in his seat in their living room where Buck and Tommy can’t stop looking at his sleeping form.

Finally, she comes back from her inspection and sees how they are hugging and looking at the seat and she can see how excited they are, how much they already love the little boy.

“Do you want to take him?” she asks, and Buck looks at her with watery eyes and nods.

She goes to the seat to free Noah from it and carry him toward Buck’s, who’s himself held by Tommy, and she very gently places Noah in his arms.

Tommy and him looks down at the boy. They know that for now it’s only a temporary placement, that anything could happen. But Noah is in their arms now and they couldn’t feel happier or more complete.

Small follow up here : https://www.tumblr.com/houseofevanbuckley/748906523907014656/the-tie-is-blue-and-i-love-you

#parents!BuckTommy #i finally decided on a name #soft husbands #baby Kinard #Yeah Buck took Tommy's name #bucktommy #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #911 abc #tevan #evan buck buckley #buck and tommy #kinley #ask games #evan x tommy #tommybuck #new headcanons #family headcanon

[lowaltitude]

Oblivious | Spencer Reid

- Criminal Minds - x Reader, Rossi’s daughter. (Y/N Baker-Rossi)

❪ FEM! ❫ ❪ adult aroace virgin attempts to write smut Altitude

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Spencer Reid x AFAB+FEM!reader, in which SSA Dr Spencer Reid is dating his coworker. OR in which SSA David Rossi’s daughter is has been sneaking around with the smartest man in the FBI for months.

𖥻 established relationships. Not directly connected to Criminal Minds series timeline but an estimated place in the timeline around season 5. 8.2k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

───── ❝ backstory ❞ ─────

Carolyn Baker-Rossi, first wife of SSA David Rossi. After the loss of their son James, the couple began to drift apart and eventually filed for divorce after a case made him miss their anniversary in 1983 and he came home in time to see Carolyn packing his things.  A few months later, and with no complications, a daughter was born. Y/N Baker-Rossi.

Y/N was always a gifted student, deciding when she was 7 that she wanted to “catch the boogie monsters that daddy does” and following through.  Eventually, a few book releases and divorces later, Rossi’s 22 year old daughter completed her degree, resulting Rossi using his connections to get her allowed into the BAU as a liaison.

Y/N was spending 85% of her time at the BAU following around Penelope Garcia, 10% getting everyone coffee, and the other 5% staring at Dr Spencer Reid. The boy genius who joined the BAU 2 years prior as a Supervisory Special Agent.

2 years passed and Y/N— Agent Baker, affectionately nicknamed ‘Cupcake’ by Derek Morgan— was promoted, officially joining the team. And although she loved him, she refused to use her father’s last name while at work.

───── ❝ Oblivious ❞ ─────

Rossi‘s chair scraped along the floor as he pulled it out, and I groaned. Morgan called and woke me up at 6am, how much more murdering could happen if we waited just 1 more hour?

I wasn’t angry, but It was my first official case. I was no longer a liaison I was an SSA. My seat at the table meant something, but I didn’t expect them to drag me into work while it was still dark outside.

“Wheels up in 30” Hotch said, ending the briefing and giving us time to get what we needed from our desks.

Spencer was sat across from me like always, his hair messy and shirt collar a little messed up, and he pushed his chair out from the table before getting up.

I walked behind him as he went to his desk, and I went to mine. “Rough night?” I yawned.

“No, no. I’m fine.” Reid put his bag over his shoulder, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand.

I hummed in response and walked up to him, noticing that he tensed up as I got close to him. I put my hands on his collar, fixing it and his tie as he just watched me with his lips slightly parted.

“Uh, New collared shirts often come with stiff collars; however, after a number of washes and wears, the material that keep the collar stiff begins to soften, causing the shirt collar to lose its shape.” I nodded, enjoying the seemingly pointless information that he would often share. Everyone had left, the space around us now empty. “This leads to shirt collars curling and folding.”

When I was done, I went to step back and gave him some space, but Reid put a hand on my waist stopping me.

“Are you aware of how hard it is to avoid touching you while we’re at work?”

“You’re touching me now”

“But i’m stopping myself from… More”

“Nobody’s around” I kept my voice no more than a whisper, putting my hand on Reid’s chest and pushing myself up to reach him. 

“Ready to go, Cupcake?” Morgan entered, back over his shoulder and eyes down as he looked at his phone. Reid and I jumped away from each other before Morgan had the chance to look up and tuck his phone in his back pocket. “Kid?”

Both of us nodded and he turned towards the doors, Reid following a few steps behind him. I slung my bag over my shoulder, jogging to catch up.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“How was your first case?” Garcia asked, rushing towards me with an open container of cookies in her hands as we entered the BAU. Returning from the long trip to Florida.

“I might be a little traumatised but that’s part of the job” I looked in the plastic container, happily taking one and almost melting at how good the warm cookie was.

Morgan patted my shoulder as he stopped beside me, swiftly taking a cookie and earning a shocked gasp from Garcia.

“Those are not for you”

“Thanks, baby girl” He smiled. “You look like you need a drink after that.”

“I do, I really do” I sighed wiping the cookie crumbs on my pants. “Garcia?”

She nodded enthusiastically, putting the lid on the container. “Yes.”

“Drinks?” Morgan asked the other members of the team, clapping his hands together. He earned a few responses as the team packed the extra things from their desks.

The team conversed as they left the building, leaving Garcia, my dad and I a little behind.

“You did real good, kid. Make sure you call your mum later”

“Got it.” I nodded, watching him hurry to catch up with Hotch.

“So…” Garcia started.

I shook my head at her. “Don’t” Garcia and I had spent so much time together over the past few years that she was practically my sister at this point.

She claimed knew about my crush on Reid before I did, noting that ‘22 year old Y/N came in to see her dad and immediately took notice of the 24 year old who’d just joined the team.’ But i’d managed to keep it from her that we had progressed our relationship.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

With my FBI visitor pass— Which honestly seemed like a bad idea in retrospect, I walked into the bullpen and was barely noticed. Agents passing by without so much as a quick glance in my direction.

I spotted my Dad in a glass office, along with Hotch, and who I know knew was Garcia. He waved my direction, Hotch doing his best to smile at me before going back to their conversation.

Walking further into the room, I narrowly dodged someone with their head down looking at an open file as the walked and bumped into someone’s desk.

“Oh shit, i’m sorry” I muttered, the boy at his desk seemed barely older than I was.

“No, it’s perfectly fine. Young adults fall more frequently than expected, most falls even occur during everyday activities such walking and talking.” The boy looked up from the open book and papers scattered on his desk and It felt like I got slapped in the face by emotions that made no sense.

I couldn’t think of anything to say, I just forced my mouth closed so I could stop gawking at him. “Totally”

“Uh…” He stared at me for a second before quickly blinking a few times. “Each— Each year slips, trips and falls cause thousands of preventable injuries. In most cases, people trip on low obstacles that are hard to spot.”

I laughed, not really understanding what the boy was rambling about. Just nodding and smiling like a fool.

“Y/N” Hotch called my name, I turned to face the 2 men and the blonde. “Hey, I see you’ve met our newest SSA.”

“You’re an agent? I wouldn’t have guessed” I gave the boy another once over.

“Boy genius.” Rossi sighed “IQ of 180, photographic memory—”

“187, actually, and I have an eidetic memory. Eidetic memory refers to the ability to retain visual information with extreme precision while in contrast, photographic memory refers to the ability to remember everything in a scene, not just the visual elements.” The boy pushed his chair back from his desk, playing with the pen in his hand.

Woah.

Hotch cleared his throat. “Y/N Baker-Rossi, this is our technical analyst Penelope Garcia , and doctor Spencer Reid.”

“Baker-Rossi? As in, you, Rossi?” Garcia’s eyes widened, looking between us quickly.

“Yes.” I laughed. “From his first marriage.”

“Wow, I didn’t even know you had spawn. It’s great to meet you”

Rossi put his hand on my shoulder, taking my bag from my hands. “She’s actually here to see you, Garcia.”

“Me?”

“Y/N just completed her advanced degree in behavioral science, and while her application is pending I got permission for her to be a temporary liaison, somewhat of an assistant for you”

“Oh, assistant wow. Yes, yes. Come my child, I will be your seeing eye dog for the BAU.” Penelope linked my arm, taking the bag from my fathers hands and wishing me away. Hotch and Rossi already making their way back to the office.

I was flabbergasted to say the least, looking around as Garcia began to explain her position here. I looked back at the boy sitting at his desk and smiled. “Uh, bye Spencer”

“Yeah— Yeah, bye Y/N.” He spun his chair, watching Garcia and I as we disappeared down the hall.

When he was gone from sight, I took a deep breath. Spencer Reid.

When he spoke there was something eerily calming and familiar about him. Something in the pit of my stomach told me that this guy was special. Special in different way than being a young genius working for the FBI.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we entered the bar and found somewhere to sit, JJ and I sat beside each other so she could show me pictures of her son, Henry, on her phone. Spencer at the other end of the table across from Garcia.

I finished my drink and sighed, moving away from the table taking my glass with me to the bar. Rossi passing me his empty glass with a smile as he engaged in conversation with Morgan.

“Hey” I tiredly smiled at the bartender “Can I just get another Vodka and Coke, and 3 fingers of Whiskey please.”

The bartender got to work on the drinks and I found ed my attention on my shoes.

“Y/N?” I looked up at the person calling my name. “Oh my god, it is you.” I stared at the man in utter confusion as he walked up to me, leaving his friends chatting at their table behind him. “George. We went to High School together.”

“Whoa, George Maddison?” It finally clicked, he chuckled, nodding that it was in fact him. He was a handsome sight but in my memory I can still see him wearing his Harry Potter-esque glasses in his brown coat and black beanie.

“You look amazing. And I heard you work for the FBI now, isn’t that what your dad did?”

“Thank you, I really don’t feel amazing right now so it’s much appreciated.” I laughed, thanking the bartender as he put the drinks on the counter for me. “My dad actually still works for the BAU, he’s right over there. The team is just celebrating my first case.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Spence” Garcia whispered, the boy practically grunting in response. “You’re going to burn a hole in the back of her head if you don’t stop staring.”

“I’m not staring” Reid snapped his attention to Garcia, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing attention from the other agents. He was staring, and he knew it. But of course he was there was someone else talking to Y/N, and he knew that when men go to a bar, they are typically looking for a good time, to catch a buzz, to let off steam, and maybe find someone to take home for a one night stand.

Garcia hummed, finishing the rest of her cocktail and pushing the glass towards Reid. “Here. Get me another, there’s your excuse to go interrupt.”

“Why would I interrupt, I’m sure Y/N is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She’s a highly trained federal agent and although studies suggest drink spiking may be more widespread than previously believed, on average—”

Garcia wasn’t listening, instead looking across the crowded bar at the tall blonde making Y/N smile. “He’s like Derek Morgan levels of hotness.” She muttered, Reid immediately shutting his mouth.

After a moment of silent contemplation, the 26 year old took Garcia’s empty glass and walked to the bar. Swallowing the lump in his throat and leaving Garcia smiling to herself as she thought about adding ‘Matchmaker’ to her resume.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Another one of… Whatever this is” I heard Spencer’s voice behind me and turned my head to look at him.

“Hey” I smiled, my heart almost skipping a beat at the sight of my coworker.

Reid licked his lips quickly before smiling back at me. “Hey, sorry to interrupt.”

“Not a problem”

“Hi” George stuck his hand out for the lanky brunette to shake. “I’m George”

Spencer ignored his offer and instead chose to just nod at him in acknowledgment. “SSA, Dr Spencer Reid. Do— Do you two know each other?”

“Yeah, High School. We even dated for a while.”

“I wouldn’t really call going to the mall and a few kisses during spin the bottle ‘dating’.” I awkwardly laughed, swirling the straw around in my drink.

“Dating is a term coined in America to signify that stage of romantic relationships in which two individuals engage in an activity together, most often with the intention of evaluating each other's suitability as a partner in a future intimate relationship. Most couples go on 5 to 6 dates before discussing a relationship, and some take even longer.”

George momentarily seemed frozen, letting Reid’s words sink in. “See! We were dating, and I guess technically we never broke up. Thanks dude.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, dude”

I laughed at how unnatural it seemed for Spencer to say ‘dude’. My smile even beginning to hurt my cheeks. He turned to the bartender, taking the drink they had just put down and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What the hell are you drinking?”

“This is Garcia’s actually, she wanted me to come get it for her.”

“Oh” He didn’t want to come be my knight in shining armour, rescuing me from the mystery man that could swoop me away from him.

“What is taking the two of you so long?” Rossi asked, reaching past me to grab his drink from the bar. “You’re young, aren’t you meant to be fast? Don’t answer that Reid it wasn’t a real question”

Spencer shut his mouth quickly. Rossi sipping his drink and noticing George standing with a smile on his face.

“Mr Rossi” He put his hand out to shake again. “How are you?”

“Have we met?”

“No” I answered, I didn’t want to hear another remark about us ‘technically’ never having broken up. “We did a play together in High School but, you were on a case.”

“I’m sure you want to get back to celebrating, but i’d really like to see you again Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow at the blonde “You would?”

“Really?” Rossi and Reid said almost simultaneously.

“Definitely. Can I have your number?”

“Uh” I thought for a minute, I didn’t want to give some guy at a bar my number and lead him on in front of my boyfriend. But on the other hand my dad was standing right there. “This job doesn’t give me a lot of time to myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll work something out” Rossi smiled, gesturing for me to put my number into his contacts. Reid’s eyes widened and for self preservation he turned and went back to the table.

“Okay.” I forced a smile, keying in my number and passing the phone back him.

George left, my dad and I waving as I went back to the table and I took my seat beside JJ again. Sipping my drink and raising an eyebrow at the stares I was receiving. “What?”

“Who was that?” Emily asked, a slightly suggestive look on her face.

“Just someone from high school.”

Rossi hummed, looking over to where George was laughing with his friends

“He’s cute” JJ commented

“Yeah.” Reid said, catching my attention. “Dude seems great”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We were lucky to have 2 days off before being sent on our next case, Reid and I sitting beside one another on the plane and enjoying what little intimacy we could have on the trip; Our arms touching on the arm rest.

The jet ride consisted of Rossi making popcorn, me and Morgan trying to sleep, Garcia calling us with more information and everyone doing their own thing.

As we left the airport terminal, Reid walked a few steps ahead of me, and I watched as the wind blew his hair into his face. The boy stopping and looking at me when my phone started to ring.

“Hello…?” I said cautiously

“Hey! Y/N, it’s George”

“Oh, hi. I didn’t actually expect you to call this soon, isn’t there some men’s unspoken rule to wait 3 days?”

“I’m just really excited to talk to you I guess.”

“I actually can’t talk, we just landed in North Carolina for a case.”

“Already? Wow, serial killers work fast.” He laughed on the other end of the line. “I’ll call you back some other time then”

My phone beeped and I took a second to look at it before putting the cell back to my ear “That would be great. I have to go, work call.” I hung up, not hearing whatever he tried to say before I cut him off and answering the other call. “Garcia?”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Hotch had split us up for the case, him, Prentiss and Rossi at the latest crime scene. JJ and Morgan at the house interviewing the family. Leaving Reid and I at the police precinct trying to find the MO, and looking for potential UnSubs.

Reid and I were professional, apart from lingering when our hands touched and the occasional longing stare. But we made it through the case without a hitch, and as soon as Morgan called to tell us they’d caught the guy we began to pack our things.

“I think it was pretty, uh, pretty hot how you worked out that the UnSub was taunting the victims.”

I scoffed, putting the photos from the whiteboard into a manila folder. “Replicating murders from famous movies isn’t that difficult to realise”

“There’s a number of generally agreed elements comprising popular culture. These aspects are often subject to rapid change, due to omnipresent media. It encompasses the most immediate and contemporary aspects of our lives.” He paused for a second to breathe and I leaned against the table to look at him. “Considering my circumvention for most aspects of modern technology or media, I show a fair amount animosity against popular culture, the likelihood that I would have figured that MO is only about 3%”

“I’m taking this as I need to educate you on horror movies”

“I’m well educated on classic horror films. In fact, I think my favourite would be Anita. The 1920 Austrian film that depicts a societal lady trapped under the spell of an unskilled hypnotist.”

“Have you ever watched anything that wasn’t a foreign black and white silent film?”

The door to the precinct briefing room opened before Reid could respond. The team walking in, exhausted from working without a moments peace.

Hotch put his phone down on the table. “Unfortunately theres thunderstorms coming in and we won’t be able to get a flight out until some time tomorrow. Garcia’s booked us into a hotel in the meantime, we can all hopefully get a good nights rest”

“I doubt that.” Emily said, a disgusted look on her face as she pushed the picture from one of the crime scenes across the table away from her. “This one was some real nightmare fuel.”

The photo made my stomach turn as well, a recreation of a scene from 1976 film The Omen. The victims face sewn into a Joker-esque smile and hung from the room of her house.

I quickly put the photo in the envelope and closed it so i’d never have to see it again.

“That gives you some time to call George.” Rossi smiled, helping pack up what was left scattered across the table.

“Dad” I groaned, earning a puzzled look from the officers nearby. Morgan and JJ chuckled at my annoyance I shot them both a glare.

“Reid, tell her she should be putting herself out there. I want grandkids eventually”

Spencer choked on air, his eyes wide as he tried to stop coughing and everyone looked at him in concern.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked, Reid nodding and putting his hand up to stop anyone from helping him.

“Um” He finally caught his breath. “Single men are far more likely than single women to be looking for a relationship or dates – around 61% compared to 38%. While looking both men and women report equal levels of dissatisfaction with their dating lives and the ease of finding people to date, women are more likely to say they have had some particularly negative experiences.“

Rossi stared at him for a moment, dissatisfied with his response. “Don’t listen to him. Call the boy.”

I rolled my eyes and Rossi picked up the case files, heading out of the precinct with the rest of the team and leaving Reid and I behind.

“That was… Uncomfortable” I laughed, combing a hand through my hair and picking up my bag.

“I was actually thinking how we could possibly utilise this whole George situation.” 

“Yeah?”

Reid put his hands either side of me, pinning me against the table and putting his face a few inches away from mine. “You can tell Rossi you’re going out with him and then we’ll actually be able to spend some time together”

“And after a few ‘dates’ with George, or multiple nights where I don’t come home, how do you suppose he’ll react if I don’t start bringing George around as my boyfriend?”

“Just a few dates, not enough to be considered a relationship but enough so he’ll believe you’re trying.”

I hummed in response, my lips just about to press against Reid’s— The feeling i’d craved for the past 3 days that we’d been running around on this case—

“Agents?” One of the local officers stood in the doorway, Reid taking a large step back with his bright red face. “Sorry to interrupt, but Agent Hotchner is waiting outside.”

Clearing my throat and smiling, I moved off the table. “Thanks.”

She smiled briefly, taking one step away before turning back. “You two are a really cute couple.”

Reid put his bag on his shoulder, looking down to try and hide the smile on his face. “Thank you.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Completely exhausted from the case, I didn’t even bother to change once I’d walked into my hotel room. Instead just collapsed face first on the the plush bed, the TV on at a low volume and the heavy rainfall outside lulling me to sleep.

Of course, as my mind finally went blank and eyes fluttered shut, a knock came at my door and I had to force myself up.

“Reid?” I muttered, the boy standing in the hall rocking back and forth on his heels. And nodding at me as I opened the door, eh just stepped inside and closed it behind him.

“I need you”

“Couldn’t it wait? I’m so tired.” He titled his head slightly to the side, a tuft of hair sliding down his forehead and breaking me. “Fine, what is it? Chemistry? Math? Missing sock?”

“No, no.”

“Then what?”

“I need you.”

I sighed, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. “Spencer”

“Don’t say my name like that if you’re going to say no and send me away” His voice was so soft, breathy and faint. It set goosebumps up my arms.

Hotch’s room was beside mine, at least when Spencer snuck into my bedroom he had no chance of running in to Rossi since it was on the entirety opposite side of the house. I reached for the door handle, intent on sending Reid away, it wasn’t worth the risk even if I really wanted him right now too.

My arm brushed against his warm skin and I looked up at him, eyes locking on one other and drowning out everything around me.

I find life seldom follows the plans you've made.

Turning the lock on the door, Spencer waited for the click before hisface coming close to mine, sleepy eyes closing, medicine-sweet lips puckering up, and all the other sounds of the world going silent— The thunderstorm, whatever had been running on the television, the sound the rain made on the small balcony as it made a small puddle— all silent, as Spencer’s lips finally met mine and I couldn’t get enough of him.

I was tired and sore but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted him, all the time. His weight on top of me. I wanted feel his warm breath on my skin. I wanted his sweat to drop onto me.

Reid took a step forward, his hands sliding down my body and stopping at my hips, cold fingers sitting on the exposed skin where my shirt had ridden up. Our breathing became heavy, more desperate as we gave in to our urges.

He took another step, forcing me to take one backwards and kept doing so until I felt the hotel bed mattress behind me. I slid my hand down his chest, Reid groaning as I reached his waistband, hurriedly unbuckling his belt. I grabbed the zipper of his fly and he pulled away from me.

“You’re going to have to be really quiet” He had a painful expression on his face, eyes shifting between my lips and eyes as if it truly hurt him to pull away from me. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I can be quiet.”

He didn’t waste another second, letting me fall back on the mattress so he could hover over me. Soft open mouth kisses along my kneel as he carefully undid the buttons on my shirt and I tugged at his zipper.

He shifted his weight, using one hand to hold himself up as he dug though his back pocket. Putting the shiny plastic wrapper in his teeth before pushing his jeans the rest of the way down before moving to undo mine.

I take the wrapper from Reid. allow him to take his own shirt off as I open it, watching as he rushes to get back to smothering me in kisses.

My hand touches his chest and begins to fall in excruciating slow designs, the boy almost whining against my lips.

Gripping a pillow in my fists as he breathes against me, hot air down my exposed him. 

Reid flips, me now straddling him and allowing me to playfully tug at the ends of his hair.

My phone vibrated on the bedside table, Reid groaning in frustration and pulling away from me.

“Ignore it” I muttered, using my index finger to turn his face so he was looking at me again. The phone stopped and he smiled into the kiss until the phone started again. He pulled away. Making me the one to whine this time.

“Hello?” He said into the phone “She’s busy.”

He hung up, putting the phone back on the bedside table and gripping his hands on my thighs to pull me closer to him. Skin to skin.

I moaned and Reid laughed, moving to place a kiss under my ear and whisper. “Quiet, remember?”

I wanted nothing more in that moment than to be with him. Feeling I was about to crumble like sand as the bed creaks beneath us.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We all arranged to meet in the lobby, Emily and I were talking, entertaining the possibility of a ‘girls night out’ soon.

JJ walked back towards us with coffee cups in her hands, offering us each one. “Where the hell is Reid?”

“Maybe we should send someone to check on him.” Morgan walked towards the elevato, pressing the button and the doors opening instantaneously.

“Hey” Reid greeted. “Ready to go?”

“What took you so long?” Rossi asked

“I didn’t get a very good nights rest.” He walked off the elevator, heading towards the exit. “Poor sleep habits often include an irregular schedule, more than 90 percent of law enforcement officers report being routinely fatigued.”

Reid and I were in seperate cars, unintentionally splitting into women in one and men in the other. I spent the entire drive wondering what they were talking about.

“You alright, Baker?” Emily asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror

“Yeah, i’m fine.” She raised an eyebrow and I sighed. Working with profilers sucks. “I’m just trying to work out why my dad is suddenly so pushy about me dating someone.”

“Maybe he knows you have a crush on Reid.” JJ shrugged

“JENNIFER!” Emily gasped

“You guys think I have a crush on Reid? Did you hit your head or something?”

Prentiss sighed, parking the black SUV “We may have realised a long time ago. It’s not a very kept secret. I think everyone except Reid knows.”

“I’m pretty sure Morgan and Hotch are oblivious too.“ JJ laughed. Climbing out of the car.

We boarded the jet, JJ and Prentiss sharing a knowing look as I took my seat next to Spencer.

“Shut up” I mouthed, the pair of them shaking their head as Reid gave me a confused look.

As the jet started to take off, I listened to everyone’s conversations, checking my phone when it beeped to a new message from Garcia. I looked up through my eyelashes, Prentiss and JJ both looking at their phones and telling me we all just got the message.

Girls Night. Please. Tuesday. - P.G

Emily put her phone down first, mine and JJ’s buzzing again and Hotch noticing. “Are you three messaging each other?”

“Maybe” JJ smiled, putting her phone down after pressing send.

Morgan raised his eyebrow as mine and Emily’s phones buzzed again. “What are you talking about?”

Yes. We need to talk about Y/N and Reid. - E.P

Tuesday’s perfect, and I agree we need to talk about it. Code name: Romeo and Juliette. - J.J

“It’s girl talk, Morgan. And no matter how smooth you are, it’s just not for you.” I sighed, clicking send and making a point to turn my phone off.

“Come on, Cupcake, don’t do me like that.”

There’s nothing to talk about! … but I prefer Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy actually. - /.BR

We had small conversations until we landed, all heading to put away files and clean up our things before heading home.

“So?” Garcia smiled, taking a seat in my desk chair “Anything happen this time?”

“It’s a work trip, G.”

“But Em and JJ know now, so something must have happened!”

“They just worked it out, profilers notice everything.” Apart from that we’d been in an exclusive relationship for a while now.

“You two are totally smitten, just ask Reid on a date. Rossi doesn’t have to know, I can keep a secret. Swear.”

I looked at Reid talking to Morgan across the room, nobody else knowing about the purple marks hidden just beneath his collar.

“See!” Garcia signed “You’re even blushing just looking at him.”

“Nothings going to happen between us.”

“Ready to go home?” Rossi smiled as he walked up to Garcia and I, oblivious to the conversation he had just interrupted. I nodded and he adjusted his bag strap. “Did you call, George?”

Garcia’s eyes snapped to look at my face. I had to focus on how I would answer, he’d know if I was panicked or lying.

“Yeah he called last night.” Truthfully he did, it’s just I didn’t answer, Reid did.

“And?” Penelope urged

I shrugged. “I’m very busy.”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Girls Night Out. Usually we’d be out at a bar getting insanely drunk, but the night started at JJ’s house waiting for Will to come home.

“He’s asleep” She sighed, returning in the 3rd outfit she’d tried on since Henry had decided to throw up on her 1st dress and pee on the 2nd.

“Finally. Now we can discuss.” Garcia smiled, shifting in her spot on the sofa to look at me on the armchair. “Go on, Y/N.”

I laughed, having hoped they would have forgotten this topic over our luxurious 3 days off of work. “Discuss what?”

“Tell them how long you’ve been in love with Reid.”

“I’ve never been in love with Reid!” I protested

“First day she arrived at the BAU, the both of them, practically drooling.”

“Really?” Emily smiled, looking at me with a glint in her eye.

“Hey, well don’t you all look pretty.” Will draped his coat over the back of the couch, everyone greeting him and standing ready to leave.

“Henry‘s asleep, we’ll hopefully only be out for a few hours.” JJ kissed her partner and he gave her a warm loving smile. Maybe I could tell them about Reid and I, but we had a very different situation to others.

Most people don’t work with both their boyfriend and father.

As we left JJ’s the topic shifted and I was immediately relieved, enjoying listening to everyone’s funny anecdotes much more.

The bar we went to was busy, full of people out celebrating. Any time my glass was empty, a new one seemed to appear in front of me until I was viewing everything in a slight haze.

“I think we should go!” JJ announced loudly, pushing herself up from the table and knocking over Emily’s drink.

“At least it’s the weekend” Garcia groaned, picking up her back and adjusting her glasses.

Emily snorted “It’s Tuesday”

“Oh god”

As we managed to make our way outside, JJ’s phone rang and I whined. “Please don’t tell me someone’s murdered again”

JJ answers the call “It’s Will”

“Will!” I cheered, flagging down a taxi for us. I told the man Garcia’s address first since her apartment building was the closest, and we drove off as soon as JJ was done on the phone telling Will we were all safe.

Emily, as the most sober. was in the front telling the driver addresses and making sure we all got to the door safely.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” Prentiss sighed, knocking on the front door as I attempted to find my keys at the bottom of my bag.

Rossi opened the door, pyjamas on and sleep in his eyes.

“Dad, what’s up?” I snapped my fingers, finding my keys. I wasn’t completely drunk but I was buzzed enough that I needed a babysitter.

Rossi looked at Emily as he let me inside “Thank you” Shutting the door behind me, he put his hands on my shoulders to guide me to my bedroom. “Don’t throw up on my carpet”

“I won’t” I groaned, pulling my jacket off and throwing it on the end of my bed with my bag. Rossi turned the light on in my bathroom, walking off and returning with a large glass of water and some snacks.

“Get some rest.” He said softly, pushing a loose strand of hair from my face.

After he was gone, I yawned and pulled my phone from my bag, keying in Reid’s number.

“Spencer” I coo’d when he answered, dragging his name out.

“How much did you drink?”

“Not enough.”

“It’s been stated that to reduce the risk of harm from alcohol-related disease or injury, a healthy limit is to have no more than 10 standard drinks a week and no more than 4 standard drinks on any one day.”

I stayed silent for a few seconds, mentally trying to count how many drinks i’d had. “Then I had way too many.” Reid chuckled on the other side. “Come over.”

“Alcohol primarily affects areas of the brain associated with behavior regulation, this impairment in judgment makes people much more prone to saying the they normally wouldn’t sober.”

“But I would invite you over sober”

“A sober brain helps weigh the good and bad consequences of any decision, therefore I know that it’s probably a bad idea.”

“I hate sleeping alone”

“I believe this is what Morgan’s called a, uh, a ‘booty call’. Human nature to be monogamous but humans quite frequently engage in short-term sexual relationships as well. Evolutionary psychologists resolve this paradox by proposing that men and women employ both long-term and short-term mating strategies, depending on the circumstances. It’s important to note that—”

“Spence. Please.” There was a long pause, a few rustles coming from his end. “Spencer?”

“Hold on, I’m putting my shoes on”

By the time I heard the knocking on my window, i’d already changed into an oversized FBI t-shirt and pair or shorts. I pulled the curtains open, smiling at Reid and letting him in. Much more sober than I had been when I got home.

“Hi”

“Hi” He smiled.

He took a seat on the edge of my bed, taking his shoes off and I looked over the outfit he had on. Plaid pyjama pants, a grey shirt.

He dropped his dirty old converse and stood, stepping towards me slowly and embracing me in a warm hug. I practically melted into his arms, Reid pushing the hair from my face so he could gently kiss my forehead.

“Prentiss and JJ think I have a crush on you and you’re oblivious” I muttered, feeling his chest rise and fall as he laughed.

Moving away from him, I laid on my bed and waited for him to join me. The bed dipped and I reached for the remote on my bedside table.

Spencer raised an eyebrow “Really?”

“You need a horror movie education, i’m thinking The Shining. Morgan and I were talking the other day about how it was a revolutionary film for its time since it explored horror conventions such as isolation, fear, mental illness, and duality—”

Reid cuts me off by rolling over so that he's laying on top of me, parting my legs with one hand. "I get jealous when you talk about Derek like that," he says in a low voice, surprised that he's admitting this to her. "It gives me the wrong idea."

I can already feel my heart beginning to beat faster. "You know he’s just a friend" she whispers, my mind going wild when he leans down, pulling the neckline of my shirt and kissing my collarbone. 

"But he gets to call you nicknames, and I don’t" Reid whispers back and looks down at me again.

Before I can even think about her response the words, "But i’m all yours" spill from my lips and he smirks. 

Our lips become one and Reid grinds his hips against mine, groaning as he does so. He keeps moving his hips, creating a friction that make my breathing shallow— makes me want more. 

He pulls away, slipping the shirt over my head and kissing around my chest. "You know how crazy this all is?" He asks, hands reaching down for the button and zipper of his jeans as I nod. Our romantic situation was our secret but we knew it was crazy since we should have just told people from the start.

He stands so that he can pull his shirt off and motions for me to get up with a finger. "Can we try something?" he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling her down with him. 

He positions me so that my crotch is on his thigh and places his hands on my hips. Spencer's eyes take every single inch of my body. Never once had I felt bad about myself when with him. Whispering in my ear what he hoped to do with me tonight.

Normally, the idea of dry humping someone to the point of orgasm would sound like a ridiculous and odd suggestion, but with Spencer it was different.

We kiss again and I nod, willing to do practically anything that he could ever want to do together.

Reid’s hold on my hips tightens as he presses me down on to his thigh and, slowly, he begins to rock me back and forth. 

I try to think of how many other ways he could make each other feel. Not just physically. 

Placing my hands on his shoulders as he begins to move me faster, and pressing his mouth to my neck.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“Y/N” Rossi called out, wrapping his knuckles on the bedroom door. “Are you awake, Hotch said he tried to call.”

I shot up in bed, Reid still peacefully asleep beside me and I shook him awake. The boy blinked slowly, smiling at me like I was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

“Y/N?”

The smile disappeared and Reid threw the blanket off of him. Rushing around the room as quietly as possible to grab his clothes.

“One second dad” I picked Reid’s boxers off the floor, throwing them at him. He pulled them, and his pants, on as I opened the window for him to climb out.

Reid put his arms in his shirt, climbing out the window and pulling his head through the hole. He rushed away and I cautiously opened the door, pretending to rub my eyes. “Good morning”

Rossi smiled, cup of coffee in hand. “Your cell must be off, Hotch called asking you to come in.”

“I’m not meant to start until 12” I sighed, looking at the clock on my bedside. 9:30am.

“Better get moving” He brought his cup to his lips, turning and walking away as I closed the door and went to close the window.

“Hey” Reid reappeared outside, startling me.

“Jesus” I put my hand to my chest. “What are you still doing here?”

“I forgot something”

“You never forget anything”

Reid kissed me quickly, his lips warm and soft. “I love you”

He left before I had the chance to say anything back, leaving me dazed at the window for a minute until I managed to force myself to get dressed for the day.

Hotch smiled as he sat me, Garcia, Prentiss and JJ at the table. “Have a fun night last night?”

“The volume is up here” Garcia held her hand above her head, moving it down to the table height. “It needs to be here”

“You still have paperwork to fill out, need it done before the rest of the team gets here.”

Sitting at my desk, I mindlessly filled out the paper. Garcia got to sit in the quiet darkness of her office, meanwhile Prentiss, JJ and I were in the open bullpen. People walking buy constantly, and since JJ had the worst hangover she was constantly complaining  I looked over my desk, groaning when I couldn’t find what I was looking for and picking up my phone.

“Hey, Rossi.” I sighed, rubbing my head with my thumb and forefinger. “I must have accidentally taken one of my files home last night, do you mind grabbing it from my room?”

I could practically feel the sarcasm radiating off of him through the phone. “Oh yes my darling daughter, your wish is my command.”

“See you when you get here.” I yawned, ending the call knowing he’d grab the file from my room for me. Spencer pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk across from me. “Good morning, Reid.”

“Morning, Baker.” He greeted, glancing around before leaning forward and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Coincidentally, I found myself walking home in my socks this morning.”

He nodded to his foot, poking his leg out from the desk and I held back a laugh. “You’ll have to collect them later.”

“I guess so”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Rossi put his phone and keys down, closing the front door again so he could go and grab what Y/N had forgotten.

He walked into her room, spotting the folder on her dresser and picking it up.

Feeling the cold breeze coming in through the open window and walking to close it, Rossi almost tripped in the sneakers by the window.

David Rossi picked up the shoes, intent on moving them to the shoe rack in the open closet but stopped. He’d seen these shoes before, but he knew what his daughter wore.

It hit him.

Rossi knew who these shoes belonged to. And he was angry.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

We were waiting in the briefing room, all of us chatting at the table when Rossi walked in, smacking the file down in front of me. I looked up with a smile, about to thank him when I saw the look etched on his face.

A moment later, Reid looked up at me noticing the tension and then looking up at my dad.

Rossi ran his tongue along his teeth. “Why haven’t you called George?”

“We’ve been busy, but I’ll— I’ll do it” I tried to smile but the look on his face didn’t change, instead, taking his hand from behind his back and revealing none other than Reid’s shoes.

“Crap” Spencer whispered. Everyone silencing as they tried to understand what was happening now.

“Dave?” Hotch asked “You alright?”

“Spencer? Anything you want to say?” Rossi urged

I swallowed the lump in my throat “Dad”

Rossi slammed the shoes down on the desk “He’s messing around with my kid!”

“Technically, uh, I think ‘messing around’ implies that we’re frequently having unprotected sex” All eyes went to Reid, nobody knowing what to say exactly.

“Kid—” Morgan started

“Which We’re— We’re not.” Reid held his hands up in defence. “Well, we are, uh, active just not an impractical—”

“Spencer!” I shouted, trying to get the man to stop talking all together.

“—Amount. Once a week is a common baseline, although that statistic depends slightly on age: 40 to 50 year olds tend to fall around that baseline, while 20 to 30 year olds tend to average around twice a week.”

“Spencer!”

“Right.” The boy finally stopped talking. Everyone at the table was silent, eyes shifting between Spencer and I.

“Are you really mad?” I asked quietly, Rossi pulling out his seat and putting his head in his hands.

“No” He sighed. “Disappointed.”

“Why?” He’d already walked in here and slammed shoes on the table, making it everyone’s business. They’d find out eventually so we may as well have this conversation now.

“You kept it from me. I’m your father and you were sneaking around behind my back, don’t you trust me?”

“Can I say something?” Reid asked, Rossi pointing a finger at him.

“No.”

Spencer ignored this. “In our field everyone is at constant risk. We all know someone who’s been effected by our job, it was a lot safer for us to not tell anyone when we started dating. We actually discussed telling you around month 2 but it was—”

“How long has this been going on?”

“228 days” Everyone looked at Reid. “7 months”

“Rossi, it’s not that bad.” Hotch tired to make his friend see the bright side. “Albeit I didn’t know how far it had gone, I thought it was obvious they had some sort of attractive to one another”

Rossi looked at him with wide eyes. “You knew?”

“How did you not know? They always sit next to each other, long stares and awkward glances.” Morgan practically scoffed.

“Oh shut up, none of you really knew.” I laughed, feeling the mood change in the room.

Everyone laughed, agreeing and talking about how they only thought it was a meaningless crush that we’d never pursue.

“So” Rossi started once the laughter had died down, a small smile on his face. “7 months it’s serious? You’re not going to hurt my daughter?”

Spencer tensed. “No— No sir.”

“Good, because you know I have a gun and can use it.” Rossi leaned back in his chair. “Please just knocknext time you come to my house.”

“Oh my god you would not believe how big the bucket load of crazy in this case is I—” Garcia walked into the room, ready to present us with our new case when she stopped. “What did I miss?”

“Everyone knows that Y/N likes Reid.” Emily informed her. “And that Reid likes her.”

God it sounded so much like some school yard drama.

“Everyone? Oh… So what now?”

After Penelope was caught up, and celebrated that she was right— Noting “Penelope Garcia will always notice a blooming office romance. Always. Especially if it’s love at first sight.”— We were sent to pack for our case, Reid and I staying behind in the briefing room as he put his shoes on.

“No exactly how I wanted everything to go but I’m assuming it’s been accepted. We’ll have to fill out an Employee Relationship Management in HR.” Reid stood and I grinned up at him. “What?”

“I forgot something”

He looked at the table. “No, there’s nothing—” I cut him off by kissing him, waiting until he kissed me back before pulling away. “One more, one more.” Our lips met again, full of emotion. Gentle, loving and romantic. The perfect kiss.

“I love you, too” I whispered as I pulled back, Spencer staring at me in silence, slowly sliding his hands across my body to rest in the small of my back and resting his forehead against mine.

“Hey!” Rossi knocked on the glass. “None of that. Hands where I can see them Reid, you’re a smart boy you should know better.”

Copyright © 2023 Altitude. All rights reserved.

#kinda lost it at some point #i wrote one of the last scenes first as a one shot and turned it into this garbage #spencer reid #spencerreid #criminalminds #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #ssa spencer reid #ssa david rossi #david rossi #x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #david rossi’s daughter #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 #wattpad #fanfiction #fanfic #matthew gray gubler #MGG #don’t know if any of this is readable #smut #spencer reid smut

[kasagia]

The last time

Pairing: William "Billy" Russo x fem! reader Summary: You're done being the less important one. The one who always had to conform to the big asshole and playboy Mr. Billy Goddamn Russo. And this time you really promised yourself that it's over... but is it? Wairning(s): Billy is toxic, but he loves the reader; the reader loves Billy, but everyone is fucked up; fight; swearing; blood; the reader is a doctor; the reader and Billy argue, but both cannot live without each other; violence; weapon; Inspired by: Taylor Swift - The Last Time (Feat. Gary Lightbody) Nonsense from me: I'm so happy I was able to write this in this week. I hope you like it. 💙🖤 P.S. The next oneshot will be with Darkling (Would've, Could've, Should've), but I don't know when I'll be able to write it. 😅 Word count: 6,5k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

Find myself at your door Just like all those times before I'm not sure how I got there All roads, they lead me here

When you opened the door, you didn't expect that instead of finding the pizza delivery guy, you would find Billy Russo... or rather, what was left of him.

The hood over his head and his slightly lowered head were unable to hide the scars on his face. You notice that over time they have become... less visible... at least not as angry red as they were in the media after they published the fugitive's photo.

Yeah. You saw the news. (And talked to Maria.) You know what happened.

Maybe you didn't want to deal with a man who had broken your heart many times over the years, but you couldn't just pretend he didn't exist.

His face, his name, even that stupid nickname, Jigsaw, were everywhere. In the newspapers, on TV, on the internet, in your old photo albums and even in your fucking dreams. And now he was standing in front of you. The shell that remains of a one and only Billy Russo.

"May I... may I come in?" he whispered, staring at you uncertainly. You promised yourself that you would slam the door on that scarred face when he came to you... but in your toughts he was more... arrogant... just like he used to be.

"I... I'm not sure." the words come out of you as you look at him, trying to recover from the shock. You thought seeing him in person wouldn't do anything to you. How stupid you were...

"Please... I just want to talk to you. Give me five minutes and then you can sand me back to hell."

You bite your lip. You saw on the news that the Punisher and Jigsaw had teamed up... if Frank could forgive him enough to work with him and let him near Maria and the kids, you could give him that five damn minutes, before you try to kick his ass.

"Only five minutes, Russo." you say as you let him in.

Closing the door behind him, you wonder how far you've fallen by letting him back into your home… but from the way he looks around your place hesitantly, avoiding looking at you, you wonder who's really lost their dignity here.

I imagine you are home In your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine And everything feels better

"You... you look beautiful." he says as he finally looks at you for the first time since your… rather tumultuous breakup.

"You wanted to talk." you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the dresser and stare intently at the man sitting on your couch.

"I… wanted to come to you after… all this shit. I… I could have lost my fucking memories somehow, but I think you've embedded yourself in my brain more than anything else. I went to your apartment, but you moved away." he admits, avoiding your heavy gaze to stare at the coffee table. You see a sad smile on his face as he stares at the pile of books and papers that were almost always present in any available space in your apartment. Some things don't change.

"I did." you say, closing some of your patient files from him so he can't analyse where exactly you work after you quit your job at Anvil as their private doctor. You collect papers and put them on your desk, turning your back to him. "Some people would get the hint. Did Frank throw out what was left of your brain by smashing your head against a mirror?"

You know it's a low move on your part, but you can't resist making him suffer. And by the way you suddenly feel his warm body behind you, you know that turning your back on your former marine and murderous ex wasn't such a smart idea. You swallow and turn around, crossing your arms to stare defiantly at him.

He is angry. You see it in his eyes. For some strange reason, instead of throwing you against the wall, he decides to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths.

And the part of you that still cares about him reminds you that he never laid a finger on you. Screaming, shouting, verbal threats were options. However, he never lost his temper enough to actually try to hurt you... but maybe you should stop testing your luck after all?

"Well... I... I think he finally put something into my empty head." you shift your puzzled gaze to him. You thought Frankie and Billy would go back to fighting like vicious dogs, trying to kill each other. Apparently, things have changed more than you originally expected.

"And here I thought that no one would be able to get through your thick skull."

"I'm going to therapy." he blurts out. You frown. Well, this wasn't at all what you expected when you saw Billy again. "To… sort it all out." he says, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Well… good for you. But I assume you didn't come here just to brag about it."

Billy shakes his head and takes a step towards you, watching your reaction. You tense up, but then relax as your body subconsciously takes in the scent of his perfume, which after all reminds you of (ironically) safety.

"No. I don't. I... I'm here to ask you if..."

"Stop it. Whatever you are about to ask me, my answer is no. I don't want to have anything to do with you." you interrupt him before he makes any suggestions for you to consider. "Not after what you did to me, to Frankie, to Castles. I'm glad you're on the mend, but I don't want to know you, Russo."

"Y/N, please..." he sighs pleadingly and reaches up to cup your cheek. You grab his hand before you can feel his fingers on you in a tender gesture that so often melted your heart for him.

"DON'T... just leave. Do one damn thing for someone else's sake and just leave. Let me be as I was." you say, glaring at him and internally cursing yourself for the tremble in your voice.

Somehow you win this battle of hurt glances because the next thing you hear in the room after his heavy breathing is the door slamming as he leaves. You are left alone. You're shaking with the emotions that are flowing through you now. You put your hand to your mouth and cried quietly.

Billy fucking Russo always had to come and mess up your life like a damn master.

And right before your eyes I'm breaking, no past No reasons why Just you and me

You come back from your shift at the hospital to find Frankie sitting outside your apartment door.

"One more such trip to the past, and I swear I will take a dog from the shelter and threaten you with it. What do you want, Frank?" you ask, crossing your arms and glaring at the Punisher.

"Nice to see you too, Doc. Have you finally learned how to sew people up, or are you still torturing them?" he asks with a mischievous smile, standing up and walking over to you.

"It was only once in Afghanistan, and in my defence, you were squirming like a dog in a nettle. Besides, it's not my fault you fell on knives because you stumbled like an idiot after the action was over."

The man laughs and pulls you into a hug. "It's been too long. Too bad you fucking ran away from Russo all the way here, I hate coming back to this town. By the way, Maria and kids missed you too."

"I spoke to them just yesterday on Skype. Besides, somehow this distance doesn't stop you from harassing me. And not only you. Billy was here two weeks ago." you say, leading him into your apartment. You give him a stern look as he walk inside. He rolls his eyes at me but bends down and takes off his shoes before walking further in.

"I thought so. He's been looking like shit for two weeks. I'm sure he now consists of 70 percent alcohol. Lisa wondered if his corpse on the couch was starting to decompose enough for Maria to let her perform an autopsy on him." you smile at the mention of your goddaughter. That's your little girl.

"If you tell me you're here to stand up for him, I'll kick you out of my apartment. The idea of letting him be part of your family again after all this shit he has done is sick. You're a fucked-up man, Frankie."

"Y/N, it's not what it looks like."

"Frank damn it, he almost helped kill your family! If I hadn't let Maria talk me into going with you that damn morning to the Central Park and forgave him after seeing those fucking eyes of a broken puppy, he probably wouldn't have lifted a finger to save Maria, kids and you!"

"I thought so too, so I shattered up his face, and we did a lot of shitty, sick things to each other, but believe me, it's not that simple. This fucking mess around us... is partly his fault, but not in the way we first assumed. He's still my brother… he's still our Bill."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You were fed up with it all. All this drama that's going on around Russo. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if they'd never called you in to stitch up that damn Marine and you'd never met him...

"I don't care, Frank. He hurt you. For money. He can go and keep selling himself like a whore." you say bitterly and walk past the man standing in the middle of your living room. You go to the bar and pour yourself a glass of something stronger.

"You can't be serious."

"I fucking am, Castle." you reply dispassionately, drinking the alcohol in a gulp. You pour yourself another glass and sit on the couch, watching the conflicted man in front of you.

"Come on. It's you and Billy. You always came back to each other. After every shit, big fight and breakup. Like a damn Ross and Rachel."

"For the last time I'm telling you, stop fucking watching Friends with Lisa and Maria, it's our show. Besides, this isn't damn Friends or any soap opera, Frankie. Billy fucked up. Ultimately. Nothing will change that, so just fuck off or accept it. God! You're taking our breakup worse than that cold bastard." you laugh bitterly and finish your glass. You set it down on the coffee table with a bang and run a hand through your hair. No. You won't get drunk again because of that damn asshole.

"Bullshit. He's a mess… I've never seen him like this."

"Do I look like I care?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"You fucking liar, you couldn't stop loving him overnights."

You don't answer right away. He was right. You couldn't stop loving someone who was so deeply embedded in your soul, who saw all of you and became a part of your heart so easily... but loving Billy hurt you more than staying away from him. And for once in your life, you just want to feel at peace and be somewhat happy. Even without Bill by your side.

"If you want something, you better fucking say it or get the hell out." you say, not looking at him as your attention is drawn to your hands instead of the man standing in front of you.

He sighs, tightening his grip on the chair. You see his white knuckles, and for a moment, you think he's going to break the back of the chair. He sighs suddenly and relaxes his muscles, staring at you with a less angry look.

"I need your help."

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

You imagined your reunion with everyone a little worse. Maria and the kids were in a safe house outside the city, but it was nice to meet the rest of your old friends (in the case of the murder of the last of Rawllins' men, but hey, people talk about different things, right?) And it was really nice... until Billy returned to the apartment.

As soon as his dark-brown irises met yours, an unpleasant, awkward silence fell in the living room. You felt not only his gaze but also the curious gazes of the others as they glanced between the two of you.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he asks, shooting an angry, betrayed look at Frankie.

"Don't worry. I'll be gone as soon as I make sure the Castles are out of any danger. I don't really feel like seeing your face too." you say, giving him a defiant look. You turn your head away from him and towards Micro as quickly as you can.

Billy had dark circles under his eyes, a paler face than usual, and obvious signs of sleep deprivation. You'd care if he was more than just a piece of trash who betrayed people close to him. Yet you still cared.

However, the man does not give up easily. He walks over to you, stands in front of you, and takes your chin in his hand to make you look at him. If you didn't know better, you'd think you saw pain in that son of a bitch's eyes.

"You don't have to look at me from the hiding place where we put Maria and the kids, so get your pretty ass out of here and don't cause us any more troubles than we already have."

"How dare you talk about them after what you did?!" you growl at him in anger, pushing his hand away and standing up to face him. "All the trouble we're having is because you're a selling-out motherfucker who betrayed the only people in this world who fucking cared about you!"

Billy clenches his fists and takes a step towards you, leaning towards you. You both breathe quickly, shooting each other hostile glances, waiting to see who will break away and attack first. The tension in the room is so great that you can almost feel sparks flying between you. Frank quickly steps between the two of you, gives Billy a stern look and turns to face you.

"Save the lovers' quarrel and make-up sex for later, okay? Billy, Y/N is coming with us. Y/N, you're not trying to kill Billy until we do what we have to do, and it's best not to argue with him at all. Same with you, Bill. Can you do it, or are you resentful young brats who will be at each other's throats after a breakup?" he says, looking between you two. You huff, crossing your arms and staring at Castle.

"And since when did you become such a responsible asshole, Frankie?" you ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Since we've been planning a glorious murder at those, who tried to kill my family." you sigh and nod. He is right. Killing these bastards is your priority. You can't let your feelings for that asshole who still manages to get under your skin somehow complicate your already difficult mission.

"Fine. Just keep him away from me." you growl in anger and walk past Billy, elbowing him as you go to get ready for your 'mission' with the boys.

And if you looked over your shoulder, you would see a dark brown irises staring longingly at your retreat towards the armoury silhouette.

You find yourself at my door And just like all those times before You wear your best apology But I was there to watch you leave And all the times I let you in Just for you to go again Disappear when you come back Everything is better

A ring at your door at 2 a.m. should make you suspicious.

You should pretend to sleep and finish studying for the last exam that separates you from your desired diploma. You promised yourself that after completing your specialisation, you would leave the army and move to a state hospital. You were fed up with gunshots all around you. For now, you were well on your way to shedding your soldier's uniform and permanently donning a doctor's coat.

You were one exam away from your dreams... and one Billy goddamn Russo who was standing outside your door.

Before you could close it in his face, the man stuck his shoe between the door and the frame. You curse under your breath and open them again to meet this hot damn asshole on your doorstep.

"You shouldn't open the door at this hour without checking who's behind it." he starts, resting his hand on the door as if to make sure you won't shut it in his face again. Only now do you notice his bag slung over his shoulder. He must have come here straight from the airport as soon as he landed.

"A lesson for the future. What do you want?" you ask dryly, crossing your arms. He looks at you tiredly and sighs. The hand that isn't holding the door is combing through his hair. Dog tags hang from his neck as he bows his head slightly before looking back into your eyes.

"Please... I just want to talk." he pleads, wearing his best apologetic, kicked puppy look.

"We have nothing to talk about. Can you let go of my door now? I have an important exam tomorrow; I need to get some sleep." he smiles slightly. Reluctantly, you feel your chest warm up at that damn cute smile.

"Knowing you, honey, you probably weren't even going to go to sleep, just keep revising the material."

"What are you doing here? There were no more sheets of paper in Afghanistan? The poor postman used to come here with a bag full of letters from you. I felt bad sending them back just because of him."

"So… you haven't read any?" he asks, swallowing and staring at you with those damn eyes you would kill for someday.

"Why? I broke up with you before I left the unit. I was just your sexy doctor, right? Or maybe I'm distorting your words? I'm almost sure that's what you called me while bragging to your colleagues in the unit that you fucked the coldest and most unapproachable bitch from the base."

"These same colleagues saw me rage and fall apart as I was getting my letters back from you. I was the one of us, who was there to watch you leave." he responds to your accusations, and the pain in his eyes almost convinces you to throw yourself into his arms. But luckily, you remember the nights you spent crying because of the asshole in front of you.

"And I was the one who overheard that everything between us was some kind of fucking adventure for the time being until you get to another woman." you growl angrily, trying to slam the door on him, but his hand on it prevents you from doing so. He pushes himself inside your apartment and pins you to the wall, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. Loud enough to have your neighbours hear that.

"It's not true… what was between us… it was the only real thing I ever had in my damn life." he says with a shaky voice and you see tears forming in his eyes. "Neither of us expected what was between us to turn into something more than a few-month fling, but here I am, flitting around without you like a moth searching for the fucking light after spending years in the darkness, which was my life without you. I care about you. More than anything. More than I want to admit, more than I would like. That damn much that I would travel halfway around the world for you, I will grovel at your feet just to be fucking close to you."

You let your tears flow freely as you listened to his confession. You know what the man in front of you has been through—what demons of his past pursued him at every turn. And maybe it's his words; maybe it's those damn, tearful eyes that allowed you to see his vulnerability, hidden for so many years; or maybe you just can't live without him either...

Anyway, you grab his dog tags and pull him towards you for a passionate, tearful kiss as both of you realise one terryfing truth... You need each other.

"This is the last time, Russo." you whisper against his lips as he guides you towards your bedroom, stripping you of your clothes.

And right before your eyes I'm aching, run fast Nowhere to hide Just you and me

"What the fuck are you thinking you are doing?" you ask him angrily as he drags you by your elbow away from the shooting.

Things have gone a bit south. Frank didn't anticipate how much support the group we were supposed to kill would get, and now they cut off your group, and now you were forced to work with Billy to get out of here and kill the people you had to. A very mad Billy Russo in his stupid mask.

"I'm saving your ass. Stay here. I'll take care of the rest." he says, letting go of your elbow as he looks around the room.

"There's no fucking option. You won't play my hero, Russo." you say, and reload your gun.

"You won't distract me. You're staying here. End of discussion." he walks up to you and tries to grab the gun out of your hand. You struggle with him and use the grip he taught you to push him away. After a while, you aim your gun at him. You see a hint of fear in his eyes. You shoot, killing the guy standing in the doorway behind him.

"I'm not you. I don't kill my people." you growl at him in anger and move past him to drag the dead man inside and close the door. Billy is grateful for his mask... at least you can't see his shocked, pained expression.

He pulls up a chair and starts rummaging through the flap of the ventilation duct. During this time, you take the gun and bullets from the corpse.

"I would never kill the Castles." he says, not looking at you as he continues to open the vent. "They are my family... just like you."

"You haven't been my family for a long time." you snort at his seemingly tender words. You shiver when he suddenly jumps from the chair and pins you to the wall. Even from behind his mask, you can see how hurt and furious he is.

He holds your arms tightly, almost in a bruising embrace, as he whispers from under his mask so quietly that you can barely hear his words and his voice shaking with emotion.

"Everything... I've ever done... I've done for you. For us."

"There are no us, Russo." You growl in anger and push his arms off of you. You go to the air vent, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him. You fight him, even going so far as to rip off his mask, but he still holds you in a tight hug, staring into your eyes.

"I fucking love you; do you understand?! With my entire pathetic existence. I know that now you only see me as a monster and that my face is disgusting, but I can't... I can't lose you. Not you. I can endure everything—insults, your hatred... just... please... please don't leave me." he whispers desperately, cupping your cheek in one hand and resting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, feeling tears welling up in them. You can't count how many times you cried because of that bastard in front of you.

"You think I care about your scars? I don't give a damn about them. What's keeping me away from you is your ugly inside, Russo. You don't care about anyone suffering as long as you profit from it. I'm disgusted by your personality and by the fact that you were willing to sell out your best friend's family and all the people who cared about you for goddamn money and fame. And I hate you, because somehow, even after all you've done, I still care about your damn ass."

His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as you let him kiss the tears off your face as you almost fell apart in his hands, which you've missed for so long.

“Y/N, my heart, I swear I would never, ever hurt them. You have to believe me. I wouldn't risk what we have… I wouldn't risk losing you after having no one to care about for my whole messed-up life.”

And you're inclined to believe him. You are willing to forget everything and just accept him back. But then you hear a faint beeping sound. You both freeze, staring at each other.

Billy works fast. Too fast for you. He pushes you into the vent and closes the hatch behind you before you can do anything. After a moment, a quiet explosion echoes from the room below you, masking your frantic scream of his name.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

Billy was not a good man. He knew it. He had no reason. Life never spoiled him, and everything he worked for he had to tear out with his nails. He had no reason to be good. But what he was about to allow now would seal who he was forever. There would be no turning back. And he knew it the moment he joined Castles in the Central Park.

He actually had nothing to lose. Y/N left him, and it would only be a matter of time before Frank would turn on him. He would be alone again. At least he would have guaranteed his future... however empty it might be. But he always believed that it was better to be depressed in an expensive sports car than anywhere else.

At least that's what he thought until he saw Y/N again, for the first time since their next big (this time final, which he deeply believed) breakup. And God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever.

She was wearing that little black floral dress that he loved, and she was joking about something with little Lisa as she dragged her through Central Park and the stands. Little Castle led her towards him.

Quiet: "Don't fuck it up, Uncle Bill." came from Frank Jr.'s mouth, before the kid disappeared, likely going to his father, who was probably already watching him. A young boy had to stop using such words. Maria would have his and Frank's heads for it.

Billy's eyes met yours. He gulped, watching as you walked up to him, and Lisa disappeared, probably going to the hideout where her parents were, watching him and Y/N. He clears his throat as you stand in front of him and gives you one of his practiced smirks... though he doubts he's acting as confident as he should be.

"Hi." he says quietly, staring at your face. His stupid heart beats like crazy as he completely forgot everything that wasn't you.

"Hi." you reply, playing with one of the rings on your finger—a nervous habit that he has despised since he felt the need to put HIS ring on you that you can play with and twirl on your finger when you feel insecure. "It was a long time."

"Indeed." he agrees and puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. "You look beautiful, how are you?" he asks, as if he didn't have people positioned around you, to keep you safe and out of his troubles... the daily update about your life was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind after... losing you.

"All right. I got this job at the hospital." he knows. He himself made a transfer to the account of the hospital's head so that he would employ you there. Still, a smile appears on his face at the excitement in your eyes.

"I told you it was only a matter of time. You are the best surgeon in the USA."

"Well, I doubt Frank would agree with that." you laugh, and he can't help but join you. Frank was your test subject. A very grumpy test subject. Billy could never complain about being a little too strict or stitching it up too quickly at your beginnings. You were just perfect in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him, he is just a brat." he says, nudging your shoulder gently with his. And suddenly, you both stare at each other. You both linger on the other's lips for a moment longer.

"I missed you, Bill." you admit and his heart starts beating wildly.

He swallowed. No. He can't drag you into his shit. You would be better off without him... but as you stood in front of him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours that he would do anything for, he knew he had lost. And much sooner than he realised it.

He pulls you into his embrace. And when you wrap your arms around him, when you snuggle into his chest, and he inhales your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he knows he's home. He knows that he wants to feel this way forever and that life without you simply makes no sense to him anymore. And if he were anyone else, if he hadn't gone through all this shit in his life, he would have cried right there.

Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest, almost digging his fingers into your back, and whispers softly, his eyes closed tightly:

"This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore." he kisses your head, sealing his promise. He will burn the world for you. And nothing will stop him.

And as you sit next to him on the bench, across from the Castles, who are teasing you about how you two can't live without each other, he just smiles and texts his people to call off the action. Unbeknownst to you all, he declares war on Rollins, writing to him: "No one hurts my family. That's the end of the deal."

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong This is the last time I say it's been you all along This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho

You've been holding his hand since you returned to the Castles' house after his doctors examined him and patched him up. They didn't let you get to him. Something about an emotional attachment would cloud your judgement as a doctor. Stupid bullshit, but there was nothing you could do against Frank's strong grip as he held you in the hallway until you were allowed to carry him home. You're sure Castle had scratches from your nails when you tried to get away to go to Billy.

You shiver when Frank suddenly enters the room and hands you cup of tea. You take it from him without a word with one hand, and with the other, you still hold Billy, waiting for him to wake up. Frank snorts and sits down in the chair next to you, watching you closely.

"He'll get through this. Fortunately, he didn't set himself on fire, he just crashed into the opposite wall." you shiver, ignoring his words as you sip your tea. "Although I doubt he'll have any luck next time if you dump him again. Who knows what he'll do next time just for you to hold his hand."

"What the hell are you talking about?" you ask angrily, shifting your outraged gaze to him. He just shrugs.

"Do you think he let me give him those scars just like that? This is some form of his twisted compensation or punishment. The fact that he was hoping you would magically come get him and patch him up only encouraged him more to stay still as I smashed his face."

"You're fucked up. Both of you. No normal people would come back to being friends after something like that."

"We're all fucked up. Me, because I still see him as a brother. He, because he still wants to be part of my family. And you, who love him despite everything, but leave him at every possible opportunity." you turn your gaze away from him to Billy. He is right. And that hurts the most.

"Every time I promise myself it will be the last time. That I will never go back to him. That this is the last time he breaks my heart without even blinking. One last time I let him back into my life, but I… I just can't, Frankie… I can't leave him, no matter how much he destroys me."

"He thinks he's not worthy of you. That you deserve better." you huff bitterly, shaking your head, trying to fight away the tears.

"There is nothing for me apart from him." you whisper, staring blankly at your linked hands with Billy's. "Not after everything I've been through with him."

"Then stick with it. It's better to be fucked up together." you are laughing. It's not that simple, it never was… or maybe it was you who didn't want to make it such a simple thing.

"You should go to Maria and the kids." you say, wanting to get rid of him. You don't know what you feel. All you know is that you won't leave this room until those dark brown irises look back at you again.

"Will you stay with him?" he asks, and from the heavy atmosphere in the room, you feel like this question means more. He asks if you will stay forever. You lift your hand and gently run through Billy's short hair, observing what happened to him after the two of you were apart... and in fact, you weren't holding up any better than he was.

"Yes... yes I will." you whisper, never taking your eyes off his face. And you feel like something heavy has fallen off your chest. Months of crying, anxiety and apathy passed with the snap of a finger.

"I want to be godfather to your first. And for him to have Frankie as his second name if it's a boy."

"Fuck you, Castle." you say and throw a spare pillow at him. The man laughs as he leaves. He closes the door behind him and you look at the unconscious Billy.

"This is the last time, Russo. I mean that. Don't fuck it up." you whisper and kiss your joined hands.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye This is the last time I'm asking you this (This is the last time I'm asking you this) Put my name at the top of your list (Put my name at the top of your list) This is the last time I'm asking you why (This is the last time I'm asking you why) You break my heart in the blink of an eye (You break my heart) This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this

The gentle brushing of your hair is the first thing you feel when you wake up. Another is his tight grip on your hands, as if he's afraid you're just a product of his head high on painkillers. You raise your head slowly. His hand slips from your hair and rests hesitantly on your cheek.

"Hello." he whispers, staring at you. And for a moment, you just stay like that, each drinking in the sight of the other.

And your heart breaks when you see him waiting for the moment when you start screaming at him, when you take away the closeness he missed so much.

So against your better judgement and what you should do, you lean in and kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek in your hand. You caress one of his worst scars with the pad of your thumb as he responds to your kiss. His hands stay stiffly in place as he's afraid to move, lest he disturb this moment between you, to feel your lips as long as possible.

You pull away from him and rest your forehead against his. You close your eyes, catching your breath. You feel his burning, confused gaze on you, but you don't move. You don't say anything. You just sit there, enjoying his touch and his closeness, not thinking about the conversation you need to have.

"I missed… I missed this." he whispers shakily. You feel him burning with the desire to taste your lips one more time, but he maintains some semblance of control and settles for just moving the hand that isn't cupping your cheek to your waist.

"Me too."

"I know I screwed up. But… I will never… never again…" you kiss him again, interrupting him. You brush away the tears that fall down his cheek with your thumbs and gently brush your nose against his as you end your kiss.

"Shhh... I know." you whisper, straddling him, needing to feel him as close to you as possible after everything that happened. You were both shattered, but maybe you could put each other back together?

"Are you sure?" he asks, swallowing. You nod and bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He strokes your back slowly, drawing patterns with his fingertips under your blouse. You shiver at the feeling of his touch on your skin.

"This is the last time, Russo. Either we succeed or... it's over. And I mean it. There will be no great quarrels and returns, no appearances on the doorstep of the other at midnight. We'll either be honest with each other... and make it work... or we won't be together at all. You understand? We're at the top of each other's lists, or not at all. I don't want anything less, any toxic love, any blaming each other, and all that bullshit. We take each other and try to do something with us, or we end it."

He nods and pulls you closer to him, digging his fingers into your back, anchoring you to his chest.

"Deal. I hope you know, you just stuck with me forever, because I'm not leaving you." you lift yourself gently from his chest to look at him. Your eyes water as your eyes meet and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to fully express your feelings to him.

"Just... don't make me ask you this again... don't hurt me. Please."

Billy pulls you into a tender kiss, showing you all the love and devotion he has for you. Trying with your actions to ensure that this time will be different, that you will never suffer because of him again, that you will never run away from each other again, that you will never watch the other one leave again.

"I'm nothing without you. Trust me. I tried to live without you and look how it ended." he jokes, and in any other situation you wouldn't find it funny, but now, fueled by the high of being with him again, you giggle stupidly into his neck. Billy smiles fondly and strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Break my heart again, and it will end worse for you. I have connections in the mortuary, Russo." he huffs, undeterred, and pulls you closer.

"Please. As if you didn't fly across two states just to stitch my face together because you didn't believe in the competence of the doctors at the hospital." you blush as you realizes that he knew about your moment of weakness after you found out what happened to him after his fight with Frank.

"How did you know?"

"I'd know your stitches anywhere." he says with a shrug and pulls you in for a kiss.

Maybe this really was the last time after all… and this time you will stitch the scattered pieces of both of you together for good.

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