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gumiluver · 6 months

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SIN FOR ME ~ JJK NSFW SCENARIOS

synopsis: jjk men as the seven deadly sins <3

cover pic credit: chaeeunn2 on pintrest

lovers <3: afab!reader, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro/zen’in toji, ryomen sukuna, okkotsu yuta, kamo choso

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact

cw: nsfw, rough sex (all lovers <3), manhandling (satoru, sukuna, choso), squirting (suguru, toji, choso), choking (sukuna), dacryphilia (suguru), breeding kink (suguru, kento), cunnilingus (toji, yuta, choso), daddy kink (toji), pussy slapping (sukuna ofc), thigh slapping (yuta), overstimulation (suguru, toji, choso), light bondage (yuta)

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

SATORU -> PRIDE 🖤

Gojo Satoru, better known as ‘the worlds strongest,’ is not a very humble man, to say the least. His ego can get the best of him at times, but that’s part of his charm—being a prideful bastard, that is.

To be fair, it is well earned—you don’t get that type of recognition just for fun after all. His natural aptitude towards cursed energy along with his enhanced physical prowess make him an unstoppable force, and he makes sure to own up to his title of ‘being the best’ by proving it to you nightly, even if you already acknowledge him as such.

But what he truly yearns for is to hear your little cockdrunk praises, to see you become enamored with the way he’s making you feel. He loves hearing those little thoughtless babbles of praise and those helpless begs that fall from your salacious mouth. It all just feeds into his pride and makes him ache for more.

“o-ohh my—fuck,” you moan, arching your lower back as satoru presses his tip against your soaked pussy. He guides it along your folds, gathering your essence and coating his cock with your slick. He snickers, already loving how much of an effect he has on you, “this wet for me already, princess? haven’t even started playin’ with ya yet.”

He really can’t help himself when given the opportunity to tease you, loving the way you get all red and embarrassed when he points out just how much you obviously want him. You’ll try and deny it too, but how could you deny something—someone—that makes your princess pussy gush like fucking crazy? You shake your head, flushing at his accusation while averting his piercing gaze.

“Ah ah ah, pretty girl. Eyes on me. Want you to watch my cock sink into this pussy,” he tsks, pinning your hips down with his one hand to ensure you won’t squirm away from him as he brings his other to grip the back of your neck. He angles your neck downward, making sure that you have the perfect view of him taking what’s his, and the cry that escapes your mouth once he bottoms out makes his tip leak ridiculously inside you.

But Satoru knows better, he knows when his pretty pillow princess is holding out on him—and he is not pleased by your restraint.

“I know for a fact you can be a hell of a lot louder than that, princess. What’s got ya all shy now, huh?” he taunts, starting up a moderately fast pace that invades your warm, plush walls. He releases the grip he has on the nape of your neck and the side of your hip to travel down towards your pussy, quickly positioning his thumb above your sensitive clit while his other hand presses against your lower tummy, effectively making you squeeze around his cock as he starts to rearrange your guts with a newfound, vigorous pace.

“AAHH!!” you cry, completely surprised by the sudden burst of pleasure that courses through your body. You feel your mind short-circuit from the sharp intrusion of his cock fucking up into your cervix, all the while he ruthlessly rubs against your small clit. The way he massages your womb with his hand as he meets each of his thrust makes you constrict around his cock with a vice-like grip. He can feel you squeeze him for all his worth, and he can’t help but fuck into you harder and faster—hoping to mold the shape of his cock forever into your beautiful pussy.

“ohfuckohfuckohfuckkkk—toruuuu!! ‘s so goooood!!” you cry loudly. All prior thoughts having left your mind as you become reduced to nothing but a needy little cockdrunk slut that would do anything for him—the only man who’s been able to make you lose your morals for the sake of pleasure.

“Thaaaat’s it—squeeze my cock juuust like that, princess. Take it all in and make me proud,”

SUGURU -> GREED 🖤

Everything about Suguru makes him a dangerous man. His technique, his intelligence, his energy, his charisma—it all aids in his natural greed that makes him want to take, take, take.

His hunger to have and own everything and anything makes him an insatiable lover. He wants to see you writhe away from him, overwhelmed by his greedy little appetite—but what truly makes him dangerous is just how turned on he gets from slutting your pussy out to his cock. He just can’t seem to get enough of the way your pussy fucking milks his cock like none other.

Just the thought of expending all of your energy—and then some—makes his dick ache with pain. He’ll even overstimulate himself by continuously pumping into you even after cumming inside you, just to make sure he’s got you completely fucked out for him.

“More,” suguru demands, “need you to cum more fr’ me baby, need you to fucking make a mess,” he says as he rubs your clit faster and thrust his fingers up into your core deeper. A pained squeal leaves your lips as your hand shoots down to try and stop suguru from overstimulating you further, too fucked out to give him another orgasm.

“s-sugu’ baby pleaseee, m’ so sensitive!! n-no more, can’t take no more baby plea-mphh!!” your cries suddenly being interrupted by his tongue shoving itself into your mouth. You groan loudly in the kiss, making suguru smirk at how easy it is to get you to fold for him.

But still, he’s not completely satisfied—yet.

He needs to make sure that you’re his; undoubtably and irrevocably, his. He’s greedy enough to mark your skin up, to attack your neck with an onslaught of bites and licks that leave hickeys across your décolletage.

But now he needs to take what’s his. He needs to breed his pussy and claim it as his.

And what’s even more twisted is how easy it would be to take you as his, to simply stuff his fat dick in your tiny hole and to paint your walls white with his thick cum. Just the thought of having you wherever or whenever he wanted makes him quickly remove his fingers from your tight pussy and mindlessly shove his massive length inside of you with one. harsh. thrust.

And the scream you let out is like music to his ears.

He coos at you, hushing your whimpers with gentle kisses along your face. He licks the tears that fall down the fat of your cheeks and groans at the taste. He knows he’s big, but he loves how much you struggle to take him—the little tears are just an added ego boost for him.

But despite his attempt to ground you back to him you can’t help the white flash of pure ecstasy that overwhelms your body and takes over your brain, forcing you to squirt out an early orgasm all over his thick shaft.

And this is when he truly realizes that you will forever remain as his, and his alone. The way your pussy squirts as if she were cryin’ for him, how she grips his shaft ridiculously tight as if she were begging him to stay inside, and how she fucking sings to him as he pounds his fat cock into her, the loud *squelch squelch squelch* overtaking your moans, making geto lose his sanity for good.

“You’re mine, and no one else can have you, understand me, pretty girl?”

KENTO -> ENVY 🖤

Interestingly, Nanami only exemplifies his envy when he fucks you. It’s not like he means to let his envy of others get the best of him, all he wants to do is give you the most perfect life.

The second he laid his eyes on you he could tell that his need for you would be unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. He just had to claim you as his before anyone else could.

He would never admit this to you, but his envy is what made him decide that he wanted you to be his pretty little housewife. He noticed how his fellow colleagues were already fathers of their own, and saw how content their lives were and wanted to replicate that same feeling with you. What better way to do so than actually having you be his housewife?

“Look at what you do to me, look at how much control you have over me baby,” kento grunts, aggressively palming his angry cock in front of you. You whine and squeeze your thighs together, trying to alleviate the ache that settles in your cunt, but failing helplessly.

You really weren’t sure as to what exactly got him so worked up—all you did was cook him his favorite dinner! You knew he was having a hard day at work, and since you had the day off you thought he’d enjoy coming home to a comfy home and yummy meal.

But, it just so happens that today—of all days—half of the staff decided to take off early for the upcoming holidays, no doubt to be with their little spouses and children, which meant that he had to pick up three times the amount of sorcery work than normal.

And you knew how much he despised working overtime.

So when he comes home to see your cute form bent in front of the kitchen table, ass beautifully on display for him to ogle at while you carefully arrange the dinner plates—he fucking loses it.

And now, he’s got you right where he wants you—pressed in a mean mating press that makes your thighs burn and cunt drip with excitement. He lines his red tip up to your sweet pussy and slowly inches his cock inside you, savoring the pleasure-filled whimpers and cries that fall from your lips.

“mmmm, fuck baby—take me so good,” he praises, pushing your calves up and onto his shoulders so he can fully bottom out in you.

And in this position, all that you can do is just take it, and he doesn’t want to hear a single complaint fall from your lips. You’ll be his good girl for the night, won’t you?

“Think it’s time you gave me a little one—what do you say, love? Ready to be a mommy?”

TOJI -> GLUTTONY 🖤

Toji can never get enough of anything—money, alcohol, gambling, sex— there’s never been such a thing as “too much” in his dictionary.

He has a particularly ravenous appetite, especially when it deals with you and your sweet little cries of pleasure—he just can’t get enough of ‘em. The way your cries feed his hunger and how your pussy expertly milks his cock makes him loose his mind and indulge in his gluttonous tendencies.

Will never let you have just one orgasm. He has to rip multiple orgasms out of you, or else he won’t be satisfied. Even if you’re overstimulated and begging for him to stop—telling him that it’s too much or that you’re too sensitive, he’ll purposefully pump his hips harder and faster to get you to squeeze around him even more.

“How many times was that now doll, five?” he questioned, barely even breaking a sweat from the rigorous pounding he’s been giving you. His thick cock is pressed deeply inside your womb, pushing up to that soft gummy spot that he knows makes you a whiny mess.

And you? You can barely even feel yourself, let alone think about how good his thick shaft feels inside you. You swear it’s been eons since he’s given you a break, and your cunt is about to explode from all the stimulation if you don’t get one soon.

“D-daddy please! ‘s too much fr’ me!” you plea, but your cries fall on deaf ears as he wraps his hand around your neck, applying light pressure to the sides to further stimulate your sense of touch, forcing you to only focus on the pleasure he’s making you feel.

“Too much? Sorry, don’t know what that means doll,” he mocks, laughing deviously as he quickens his thrusts and assaults your pussy with demon-like strength. Your voice is bouncing off the walls, getting higher and higher in pitch as you reach your sixth orgasm of the night.

But it was all too much! You couldn’t control the orgasm that rips out of you and the absolute mess you’re making from squirting all over him. A loud groan emits from Toji as he watches your poor pussy spray all over his toned pelvis and thighs. Your cunt involuntarily constricts around his fat cock so tightly that it pushes his cock out, and he’s quick to replace it with his filthy mouth.

He’s relentless, truly relentless. He starts to suck on your already sensitive clit, pinning your hips down to the bed so you can’t squirm away from him. He won’t even let you take a sip of water if it meant leaving your sweet pussy; so he makes sure to take his time with your cunt, eating up every single ounce of your essence that he becomes hypnotized by your sweet ambrosia.

“Mmmm—ya taste like fuckin’ candy, doll. And ya not goin’ anywhere ‘till I get my fill,”

SUKUNA -> WRATH 🖤

Wrath itself is a complex emotion that often gets a bad rap, but Sukuna’s wrath ignites a warmth throughout your body that makes you feel alive and him passionate.

And when that same wrath bleeds into the most intimate of moments, he just can’t help but mix a bit of pain with pleasure.

Sex is where he can be his true self, take all his rage and anger and change it into a passion that makes you succumb to him without much thought. It’s almost like he holds all his rage in just to take it out on your pussy—and to be fair, you’re not complaining one bit.

“Too deep for ya? Is that why you’re crying so much, little one? Awww—too bad,” he coos at you, feigning sympathy as he continues to piston his hips against the fat of your ass, forcing his thick cock inside of your plush walls at an unreasonable speed and depth that makes you see start.

“ah! ah! ah! ‘k-kuna!!” you cry, each moan punctuated by a single thrust of his hips, the force of him rocking his cock inside you takes your breath away and leaves you aching for more. He has you bent over in front of him, plump ass on display while he pushes your back into a wicked arch. Cute little dimples adorn your lower back that he can’t help but press his thumbs into, further pushing you down and making you take every inch of his thick shaft. You feel your pussy latch onto his cock as if it were it’s life source, your knuckles turning white as you grip the pillow in front of you and shove your face in it to quiet your whorish screams of pleasure.

He growls, displeased at your attempts at hiding just how good he was making you feel. How dare you try to conceal how good your king makes you feel? He’s quick to grasp your hair, gripping at the base and lifting you upwards. You belt out a cry of pain, the sudden jolt of being pulled upward by your hair while he holds you tightly across your tummy makes you feel so disoriented, he has to give your pussy a few smacks to get your attention back to him, “if I have to stop what I’m doing again to make sure you don’t hide your pathetic pleas, you won’t be able to walk for a whole fucking week,”

He stills inside of you, impaling his monstrous cock deeper and deeper until it feels like he’s in your fucking throat. You know he’s waiting for you to respond, but he’s way too deep in your guts to even let the gasp of air out that you’ve been holding in your lungs. You start to shake around him helplessly, and he can’t help but laugh at how pitifully small you are to him—how easy it is to make you a submissive little whore, “awww what is it little one, cat got your tongue?”

His laugh bellows throughout his kingdom as he continues his attack on your pussy, gripping your throat now as he angles his hips upwards to piston his cock so deep inside you that it inadvertently silences your pretty moans.

And he does not appreciate that one bit.

“I told you not to hide your moans from your king. Now, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good slut—or else,”

YUTA -> LUST 🖤

Yuta’s always been dedicated to your pleasure—so much so that he refuses to acknowledge his own needs until you fall apart on his mouth and fingers.

He’ll take his sweet time with foreplay too, the longest time ever being an hour of him between your legs, making out with your pussy and fingering you to oblivion.

Absolutely despises it when you try and push him away—how could you deprive him of you, his most prized possession? If he even suspects that you’ll try and push him away from your pretty pussy, he’ll make sure to take some…preventative measures.

“Mmmm—what a pretty sight,” Yuta moans, palming himself through his jeans as he watches you try and wiggle out of the restraints. He’s got your wrists handcuffed above you, woven between the headboard to ensure you don’t squirm away while he has his fun.

You couldn’t help the pathetic whine that escapes your lips, wanting to break free from the cuffs so you could just touch him already, “yuta pleaseee! just wanna touch youuu~”

He coos at you, sympathetic towards your needs; after all, he’d beg too if he were in your position,“Not yet baby, need you to stay nice and still for me alright? Can you do that for me, lovey?”

He watches you nod your head, melting at the little pout that you give him when he starts to strip. Wide, eager eyes follow his movement, and you take note of his thick cock straining heavily against his boxers—just begging to be touched. You clench your thighs together as he walks towards you, settling himself between your thighs to face your vulnerable form. He’s grinning wickedly, gripping a thigh in each hand as he hoists your thighs over his shoulders—granting perfect access to your slick pussy.

“Already so wet fr’ me baby, gotta have a taste first,” he mumbles, trailing gentle kisses from your inner thigh up to where your cute little clit is hiding. His warm breath over your cunt makes you squirm in his arms, earning yourself a smack towards your inner thigh.

“That’s the only warning you get, so behave,” he scolds, wanting to enjoy the moment shared between him and your angelic pussy. You yelp at the harsh sting of his palm, and the sight of your pussy quivering makes Yuta indulge in his lust, tenfold.

“Keep your eyes on me love, want you to watch how wet this pussy gets fr’ me,”

CHOSO -> SLOTH 🖤

Choso is sloppy. Not in a way that makes him annoying or an inconvenience; oh no—he’s sloppy because of how obsessed he gets, especially when dealing with your pussy and with how messy you get.

He always takes his time with you, giving languid and lazy licks that make your cunt flutter ridiculously from the pressure his tongue provides. He doesn’t even tell you to sit on his face anymore, opting to simply hoist your naked hips above his face and plops you straight onto his awaiting tongue—loving how easy it is to access your slick and maneuver your hips.

Makes you cum super quick. Like, unreasonably quick. He’ll just keep going and going and going until you soak the sheets, reveling at the way your sweet cunny gushes for him.

“aahh- m’ g-gonna make a mess, chosoooo!!!” You cry loudly, unable to control the slick that squirts out from your pussy. He quickens his thrusts up into your pussy while rubbing your clit at the same, consistent pace but with much more pressure, much more vigor, and much more persistence. The black spots that start to sneak up in your vision a clear indication of your body losing its battle between pleasure and pain, slowly draining you of air as you start to pant heavily.

“Ughhhh fuckkk yessss love, that’s ittt!! Love when ya fuckin squirt on me like that, such a messy little slut fr’ me,” he groans loudly, fucking up into your pussy even harder by slamming your hips down with his other hand as you swivel your hips in circles. His tip rubs up into that spongy spot that makes intense pleasure shoot down from your head to your toes and inadvertently makes you squelch out even more jets of your essence as he keeps giving you powerfully sharp thrusts.

At this point—you’re long gone, you’ve ascended to heavens beyond this reality as choso continues to guide you through another soaking orgasm. Your breathing is unsteady, and you feel your head start to get dizzy over his persistent thrusts and his gentle rubs on your pulsating cunt. You’re shaking and shivering, whining and crying for him to ‘ease up’, to let you take a breather from all this pleasure.

Thankfully, choso is known to be a generous man that would do anything for his beloved. You feel him slow his thrusts down to a slower pace, lifting his upper body up to kiss your as he trails a hand to the nape of your neck. He holds your waist steady with his other hand and rubs it gently up and down your side, effectively grounding yourself back to him from almost losing consciousness.

But this time, choso had…other plans.

Once he feels you relax around his cock, he starts gyrating his hips up against yours again. A whimper escapes your lips as you try to squirm away from him. He chuckles, planting both his hands firmly on your waist and pushes you further down onto his cock. Your eyes shoot open and your back arches at just how deep his cock is reaching you, it felt like he was trying to fuck up into your cervix—the pleasure just too much for your poor pussy to handle.

And suddenly, he lifts your hips up and completely moves you off of his cock. The abrupt removal of his cock from your warmth makes you whimper from the lack of contact, feeling completely empty.

“Don’t look so sad baby, you’ll love this part,” he says, a tinge of playfulness laced in his words as he positions himself to lay flat on the bed. Before you can even question his intent, he picks you back up by your hips and places you smack down on his chest—princess pussy on perfect display for him.

In this position, choso can have as much fun as he wanted without having to overstimulate himself or overwork your body—to an extent, that is.

Your protests fall on deaf ears as he pushes you closer up to his face, and from the way he looks at you it makes you fall silent from sheer submission. He’s completely fixated on you, a vicious darkness clouded his eyes, daring you to question his authority in this very moment—right as he’s about to have his fill of you.

“Don’t try and run now, love. Come and ride my fuckin’ face,”

✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻✧

a/n: ahhhh I hope you guys liked this one!! I’m not really too sure how I did on this haha, I’d love to know what y’all think!! I also tried to format my blog a bit so now it should be easier to access some of my other works! 🥰

Likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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rosemaryshelluverse · 3 months

Note

Alastor and Angel with a S/O reader with sleep issues? Someone who is always tired, always walking around in a blanket, chugs coffee like there's no tomorrow, and will randomly fall asleep in obscure locations around the hotel but is otherwise very fun when they're not drop-dead tired.

(I don't usually request from people, so I hope I did this right lol. Very many thanks if you decide this prompt is worth your time!)

𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

|| synopsis: if only you could stay in bed all day ||

[ cw: fluff ]

[ anon, i've been wanting to write something like this for a while, considering i'm the same way! (minus the coffee, im allergic </3) so! thank you, and i hope you like this! ]

𝘈𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳

⛧ Alastor found the fact that you never truly seemed to have energy, quite entertaining.

⛧ He always found it so entertaining when he'd find you leaned up against some furniture, dozing off and almost dropping your cup.

⛧ You were always wrapped up in some random throw blanket, holding a warm cup in your hands as you greeted everyone.

⛧He was the one to break it to you that you were well into the day now.

⛧ You'd apologize and sip on whatever you had in your cup, rubbing your eyes to try and clear the sleep out of them.

⛧ Alastor would grab you by the shoulder, tugging the blanket off of you and folding it up.

"Wha- Hey!" You'd give a small whine as you felt the cold air of the hotel wrap around your figure, causing you to give a slight shiver. "Alastor, give that back, please?" You'd ask, reaching for the blanket. With a small snap of his fingers, your beloved blanket had dispersed into nothing. Now with your mouth wide open, he gave a hearty laugh, leaning forward and patting you on the head. "Come now my dear! However are we expected to get on with our daily activities if you're still wrapped up in bed?" His smile would widen at your disappointed little look, but he locked his arm with yours. "Now! Let's get you properly dressed for the day! Can't have you looking like this!"

⛧ In the end, Alastor means well, but doesn't exactly understand your issues.

𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵

⛧ Angel found you absolutely adorable, always curled up in some cozy blanket that he bought for you, always holding a nice warm cup of something with enough sugar or caffeine to keep you up just until he had to go to work.

⛧ If he ever couldn't find you asap, he checked some of the places you'd frequent when you were more awake, usually finding you tucked away, peacefully asleep in some random corner.

⛧ He loved coming home from the particularly harder days, and heading right into your ready to snuggle arms.

⛧ To him, you were always so warm and inviting, even if you did end up dozing off as he ranted off about his issues of the day.

⛧ When it happened, he would always tuck the both of you in, and continue to talk but in a hushed tone now.

"And I told him, if he really wanted to have sex with me, he would've tried a little fuckin harder! Ha! Hard!" He would chuckle and look up to you, hearing you let out a small little laugh, your eyes fluttering closed as you leaned further into his fluff. A warm, loving smile spread across his face as he placed a small kiss against your cheek, his voice going down a few notches, "Then the dude had the audacity to ask if he could still try and get me off, as if. You're the only one able to get me there anymore toots, you bastard.." He would hum, one of his several hands finding it's way into your hair.

⛧ Angel knew in the morning, you'd be up and as fresh as a daisy, with more pep in your step than you'd need. And he loved you regardless.

|| note: 🇮🇫 🇾🇴🇺 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇲🇾 🇨🇴🇳🇹🇪🇳🇹, 🇧🇪 🇸🇺🇷🇪 🇹🇴 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇷🇪🇧🇱🇴🇬!! <3 ||

#rosemaryfollows #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor #alastor x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust #angel #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #helluva boss x reader

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astrophileous · 1 year

Text

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

8K notes · View notes

diveinyouastro · 9 months

Text

Some more observo🫶🏻

If a SCORPIO starts liking you, he/she will ask for your pictures. Not "those" pictures. Your bare faced one. Ik that's kinda scary. But they love anything raw and bare. 🥹🫶🏻

Speaking of scorpios, DO NOT under any circumstances, LIE TO THEM. Please🛐. They'll know it. And if you happen to like a scorpio, and you show them your best, show them what YOU think they'll like, No don't do it. BE RAW, BE REAL, TAKE YOUR STAND IF SOMEONE HUMILIATES YOU, etc. Just be real, that's all they ask. They will love your dark side as well.

Lilith in the 4th, might have been suppressed or humiliated in their home for expressing themselves. Their emotions weren't valid. Their parents made them feel guilty for even enjoying little things🥺. Which is why they usually leave their home and never come back.🙃

If you have aquarius moon, or a friend/someone close, with an aquarius moon, TAKE CARE OF THEM😡. They don't show emotions. They really don't. It's not that they're embarrassed, it's like, so many times when they tried, they were either made fun of (got comments like "omg you feel that way???🤣 thats so childish 🤣) or they were unheard. Alot of the times. 😔💔

Also- no matter the placement or sign or planet or whatever. If one is insecure and doesn't love themselves, they won't be in their form(the placements and planets in their chart) like for example- if someone is Capricorn sun, and had a very rough childhood, were neglected, treated badly. If they dont heal themselves, they won't be like how Capricorn is. They'll start playing mind games, will seek attention, validation, might make their friends to only talk to them. Same goes for Capricorn moons, though they have tendency to be a major narcissistic person if they don't heal themselves.

Having mars in scorpio/ 8°/ 20°, very heighten intuition. They usually avoid fights, because they can 🔪⚰️. Don't make them mad, you won't like it :). Don't lie to them. Be straightforward, even if you did something horrible. HOWEVER..... if you do then wrong........🌚🌚🌚🌚 good luck gaining their trust back🫶🏻

If you have a Capricorn friend (cap sun, moon, mercury, venus, Mars, rising, pluto) don't do them wrong. EVER. istg you'll regret it. They have this aura with them and the energy they carry, you won't get it again. I promise you that. 🚫😊

Whatever sign you have in your 7th house (tropical), you are more likely to love them. You will FEEL something for them. Like when people say "oh i cant fall in love, idk what love is" just wait until you meet that sign that is in your 7th. Especially with mars and venus, it grows even more. 😋💕

Someone's sun in your 8th, no no. Don't. They'll hurt you eventually. You will FEEL something inexplicable when you first meet them, but with time, you'll see all the red flags and their dark side. You'll end up hating them.

The sign you have in your 12th house- (if using tropical- you'll like them, but eventually end up getting irritated by them, only if it's very prominent energy like sun. (If using sidereal) you'll hate them. For example, you're an aries rising, you'll hate pisces suns, cause that's in your 12th (sidereal), if taurus rising (tropical), you'll be irritated with aries sun. But will still somehow endure their energy. ☺️(🤢)

Speaking of 12th house, be VERY VERY CAREFUL when someone's planets, doesn't matter inner or outer, majority of the times, they fuck you up mentally. Because of them you'll start having trust issues with everybody. BASTARDS💩

The moon on the day you were born on, you are kinda connected to it. It grounds you, calms you down. Your emotions are stable. Like for example- born on a waxing crescent moon, you'll feel very comfortable and safe under it. 🌛💕

Libra placements are not flakey😭😭😭, they just have this side to them where they can't seem to turn people down. Believe me they feel bad and awful when they say no💔. Because of this soft and innocent side, they usually become a doormat for people🥺. So if a libra placement rejects you, THEY FEEL BAD ABOUT IT. they'll start feeling awful within 5 mins.🥺

For my dear GEMINI MOONS, the moment you start feeling anxious about some person, leave them. Don't give it a 2nd thought, just leave. Let's say your love interest is making you feel confused, he/she is telling you that they only talk to you and shit and you see a story of them with someone else, or catch them with someone else , IF YOU FEEL IT IN YOU STOMACH, ITS REAL, THEY'RE FUCKING WITH YOUR EMOTIONS😀😀. Don't make anyone make you feel like shit. ( I recommend to smack the shit out of them or go ahead just stab them 🫶🏻 I'm with you)

Also if you're a gemini moon, and into crystals too, wear a labradorite/ rose quardz or Tigers eye. They stabilize your emotions. Don't forget to clean and charge them.

LEOS LEOS LEOSSSSSS, always give princess treatment to their close ones, their friends, their lovers, their family 🥹❤️. They're very energetic and chaotic😭💕 trust me you'll like them even if you prefer silence or quietness. (That's for the prominent Leo placements, or Leo stellium)

Sagittarius + libra placements- number 1 flirtersssssss😙 BUT but but... when they fall for someone, they forget their flirting skills, and are devoted to their love only. 🫶🏻 same goes for scorpio + libra placements.

There's a misconception about scorpios being toxic, manipulative, jealous, and controlling. They're not like that. They usually have abandonment issues, weird attachments styles where they either become anxious or avoidant. And usually it is both, first they avoid, then become anxious or vice versa. They NEED reassurance. They just wanna know you ain't playing with them🥺. That's when their jealousy and other things comes' at play. They control, so they don't get hurt. They feel veryyýýyyyyyyy deeply🥺❤️‍🔥 but if you make them feel loved, supported, validate their emotions and understand them. You'll notice, all this jealousy and controlling thing will disappear. They're ride or die fr🫶🏻🫶🏻

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Thank you <3 😋🤪😍🤤💕❤️😙

#astrology observations #astro notes #synastry observations #synastry overlays #libra #scorpio #aries #astro community #astro placements #astrology placements #synastry #leo placements #scorpio placements #libra placements #gemini #gemini moon

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lxvvie · 7 months

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On today's episode of 'Simps 'R Us', Call of Duty: Medic. How is your fave as a patient when you have to take care of them when they're sick/injured?

Capt. John Price - Probably the grumpiest patient ever; doesn't really know what to do with himself while he's recuperating. Also can't smoke so that contributes to the grumpiness. The boys will poke fun at him (read: Gaz and Soap) and Price threatens to make them do wall sits when he gets better. The plus side is that you're there to keep him company.

Gaz - Is somewhere in the middle between grumpy and the best patient ever, depending. Luckily, he has an abundance of entertainment in you and whatever movie or puzzle you have for him.

Alex Keller - Is actually quite agreeable as a patient where you're concerned. When he's sick, Alex is the one who has Vick's vapor rub slathered under his nose, on his chest, on his feet (with socks on, too), and he's under as many blankets as possible. Even though he hates being hot, he's prepared to sweat that motherfucker out because he'll be damned if he leaves you hanging, Boss. ❤️

Soap - Golden Retriever as fuck. This is the man who can clear a fucking building, y'all. Soap is the one who's absolutely heartbroken and mopes in bed for all the wrong reasons. How could you do this to him? How could you leave him when he's at his lowest? How could you—"Johnny, I'm in the other room."

Ghost - What is man but a miserable pile of Ghosts? Simon is agreeable because he's knocked the fuck out asleep 80% of the time. He's also under a lot of blankets. Like... a lot. So much so that you'd be forgiven for thinking that it's just a pile on the bed and not him. The only way you can tell is the tuft of hair sticking out from under the covers. Also has a tendency to sleep curled up somewhat. He feels... safe.

Roach - Is absolutely, 💯 the best patient ever. You hardly have to ever worry about him. For the most part.

Keegan - Keegan is just... there. Existing. And feel just like he looks right now: sorry and like shit. He's right there in the middle, surprisingly; he really only calms down and accepts the help because you sweet talk him into doing so.

Alejandro - Is the one who has to warm up to being a patient because if he had it his way, he'd work from bed. Good thing he doesn't and you and Rudy are there to keep his ass in bed and AWAY from the desk. He winds up loving it, though, because it means he gets to flirt with you endlessly.

Rudy - The perfect patient. In fact, he's the one who'd have a list of home remedies passed down in his family so Rudy's always prepared if something were to happen.

König - His nervous energy won't keep him down for long and, surprisingly, König hates being tended to. Doesn't like the implied helplessness that comes with it. He'll relent somewhat after you've lectured him but there are some trying moments.

Horangi - Probably the absolute worst because he won't stay down for anything. Horangi likes to move around because it helps him to not concentrate on the pain. You'd have to literally proposition him or something like that to make him stay in one place lmao.

Graves - The most complaining motherfucker on the planet. Doesn't like this shit at all. He'd have a change of heart if you were butt naked while taking care of him, darlin'.

Valeria - The one who's busy being pampered while plotting revenge on the bastard(s) who managed to get her sick.

Farah - The one who feels guilty for being in the state that she's in and would rather she tend to herself but Farah relents when you tell her she deserves this and more. It's so cute the way she gets a little bashful when you do so.

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costelloschoice · 5 months

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General Mizu headcanons -Mizu x fem!reader -sfw and nsfw headcanons + my thoughts :], kinda long? but aye, more content -pls, reminder these are my takes, and I would love to hear your in the comments <3

-comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Sfw:

took her awhile to open up fully to you. Like about everything- probably hide her fav food from you too

speaking of food, she probably is a terrible cook and would love if you can cook for her

I can imagine Mizu burning a pot of water

I tried to do my research and look into this, but I think Mizu is about 5'4

if you're shorter than her, she'll definitely have a confidence boost and feel she has to protect you always- she already does but...you're short and tiny...so she must

If you're taller, she's putty in your hands when you two are alone but she will still kick someone's ass for you

If you're not trained in the martial arts or any good with swords, she'll teach you

If Mizu is teaching you before you two are official, she'll be rougher and stricter with her teaching. She wants you to be the best and have a good chance to learn to protect yourself

Now if she is teaching you after you two are dating, she'll still be strict but definitely a bit more gentle

"Do it again...You almost had it, try again I know you can do this"

Nicknames for you? I feel she would mostly call you by your name, but she would also call you "my pearl" or "my dove"

Pls play with her hair plsplsplsplsplsplspls

She's a sucker for a massage due to her battles and training but only from you

but!!!!!

The first time you saw her without her male persona/ identity sent her in panic mode. You knew her as this strong, tough masculine man...but here you are, happening to stumble upon her wearing nothing and seeing her...lady parts

She already started to develop feelings for you by that time and so have you, but at the knowledge you think she's a boy. Gay stuff is already a 'no-no' to a lot of people, so would it be a 'no-no" for you??

of course not- doesn't matter if they're male or female, it's still Mizu at the end of the day

once you accept her, she truly feels seen for once

This woman will and always lay down her life for you.

She'd probably die then come back to life for you cause she loves you that much

I do feel she would be distant in the beginning. We all know how her last marriage went...She doesn't want to be hurt again

Once you show her you're in for the long run, she'll become lovable and clingy

LET HER BE FEMININE PLS PLS

She barely got to explore her feminine side with Mikio (rat bastard) cause of what happened

Dress her up and make her feel pretty <3

I have a feelign she can be really childish when comfortable with you- play wrestle with her to burn off some energy

She will want to duel with you, but never lets it go too far

If she ever pulls that same shit she did with Mikio, and she has the sword to your throat...I feel she will get flashbacks and get nervous how you'll react

but is soon pulled out of those memories when you laugh and say she wins and you kiss her <3

Nsfw

now the yummy part lol

IDC SHE'S A SWITCH

no one will change my mind, no one could ever think of changing my mind

In the Edo period of Japan, sex toys were there to use and have fun. Now, I actually looked it up and ruined my web history for this because of the shunga I saw

STRAP ON- either Mizu using it on you or you using it on her, either way it's a good time

She definitely can and will be rough and dominate. She's used to be taking control to getting what she wants

Doesn't mean she can't be soft and sensual, you are her love after all, and sex is something for both to enjoy. She would love to just be soft with you

She will spank that ass, idc

Now, like I said, I actually looked a lot of this stuff up...

Double sided dildo for the both of you to use. For her, it's almost embarrassing cause you are seeing her reactions but she also LOVES this since it's so intimate to her, so hold her hand while you two do it

Going off the last one, I feel she would be trying to cover her face or her mouth sometimes...don't let her

With that one episode, we know she's loud and her eyes roll back...it's canon...so hit her with that dumb dick and make her roll her eyes back

Tie her up...that's all

Her fingers are long and slender, good for fingering your cunt and rubbing your clit

Loves having you in her lap and fingering you late at night, especially if there are other people around. Gives her the chance to cover your mouth and whisper in your ear to tease you

"You like that?...You like the fact anyone could catch us right now, and they'd see my fingers fucking this pussy..?”

Dw you'll give her the same treatment

When you finger her, she's whiny, holding onto your other hand tightly

Praise her breast- whether you have bigger breast or not, still show love to her peaches

Kiss them, suck on them, whatever..love on them

I don't think she would ever consider sharing you with another person like ever

I can imagine her talking a big game, but your first time? She’s a wreck, she wants everything to be perfect

Yeah technically she's not a virgin but she doesn't want to mess anything up with you

Favorite position? I think she likes taking you in missionary but likes to be bent over when she subbing

After you give her sum backshots, pls give her the softest aftercare

She will be clingy after, so let her cling to you like a koala

In the end, Mizu is the best girlfriend boyfriend ever <3

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x you #bes mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x you #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #wlw #bes

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delphi-shield · 4 months

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on the exhale // leon s. kennedy

Leon x Reader Fluff wc: ~2.5k shoutout to dana for wedging this idea into my brain, i also need leon to praise me for doing the bare minimum.

summary: After your home gets broken into, Leon insists on teaching you how to shoot.

content: mentions of a break-in, extensive discussion and use of firearms, leon being a big nerd (i can't NOT fuck him energy), established relationship, gender neutral reader.

You gave him a scare. Came back home from grocery shopping to find your door busted in and called him, all blubbery and panicked. You were lucky that you hadn’t been home when it happened. Crying to your boyfriend for help made you feel silly now, but at the time it had been the only thing that had made sense. It should have been cops first, Leon second, and he would tell you as much later.

“I’m gonna come home,” he’d told you. That only made you cry harder. Through your tears, he managed to make out the reason - you didn’t want him to get in trouble at work.

Bullshit, he’d thought. After all he gave to this place, they could stand to let him cut out early for an emergency. Thank God - that useless bastard - he wasn’t on deployment when all of this had happened. He rattled off instructions for you. Don’t go in the house, call the cops, wait for him to show up.

Leon doesn’t get frazzled often, but you saw the urgency in how he moved then, hopping out of his car before he even cut the engine. He hadn't thought to tell the cops he was your boyfriend, just flashed his badge at the officer who tried to stop him, teeth bared when he told the officer to move. He doesn't usually swing around the weight of his position like that, tries to leave who he is during his working hours at the door and shoulder who he wants to be when he's with you instead - but damn, if it wasn't effective.

He'd slid his arm around your waist, pressed a kiss to your hair and said, "You okay, baby?" and it was probably only then that the officer pieced together that Leon wasn't here on official business.

You were starting to think this whole thing scared him more than it scared you. It was damn near an argument. He made it clear that he wanted you comfortable enough to know how to shoot if it came down to that. He seems convinced, privately, that it would come down to that eventually. Like an attack is inevitable. You had laughed at the idea. After all, who would target you?

Leon doesn't want to give you the long, long list of answers to that, but his silence says enough.

That was that. He was teaching you how to shoot. No more avoiding it. If it buys him some peace, you’ll fire off a few rounds. Maybe it will even be fun. After all, Leon had almost seemed excited when he insisted he teach you. It's an excuse for him to take you out in his Jeep and drive around the countryside if nothing else.

“Are you sure I'm allowed to be here?” You ask, poking your head out the window of his Jeep.

Leon doesn't even turn around. “I’m sure.”

A man shouldn’t look so good hunched over a rusty padlock, ugly boot propped up on the bottom bar. He swings the gate open, spinning the padlock on his index finger. Wrangler’s shouldn’t be that appealing, either, like they’re molded to him. Maybe it’s just the way he walks. The confident sway of his hips could make anything look good.

He swings himself back into the driver’s seat, pulls through the gate, and asks you to shut it behind you. You take the padlock from him. It’s hard to imagine you have the same confident stride Leon had. You feel like you’re shuffling your feet in the dirt, like the gate is so much heavier and your fingers so much clumsier. Leon’s eyes are on you the whole way, even when you clamber back into the passenger seat. Not that you notice.

The range is little more than a grassy field ringed with shooting bays. You don’t know what you had expected - maybe something a little more clinical. A quick look around fills you with relief. It looks like you’re the only ones here right now.

Leon pulls up in front of one of the pistol bays, already explaining range etiquette to you. You help him unload, picking up a bag that you nearly drop with a muffled whoa.

“What the hell did you pack?”

“Ammo.”

Jesus. Was he planning on forming a militia?

You don’t know why you’re surprised. Leon doesn’t do anything casually. You haul the ammo over to the closest table, hefting it up and thunking it down. Your hands settle onto your hips.

The bay is roughly 50 feet deep, the berms healed over with grass. The flat of the bay is tracked with dirt paths, clearly worn over time. A line hangs at the far end, where Leon clips two targets. He trods his own path back and unpacks his assortment of handguns on the picnic table. At his direction, you unload cartons of ammunition, organizing them by their different packaging. 9mm. .45.

The handguns look, for the most part, the same. Some are slick, carbon black, others dull, burnished metal. Your eyes are drawn to a boxy handgun, all sharp angles, the grip pebbled.

“You look nervous,” Leon notes. He straddles a bench, gesturing for you to join him.

“I am.”

Leon laughs. He nudges a magazine towards you, picking up one himself. “Don’t be. I’ll show you. Here - watch me.”

He thumbs rounds into the magazine. He makes it look easy, like he's loading a pez dispenser. You try to do the same and your thumbs come away sore and raw.

“It comes with practice.” He shrugs. He already has another two magazines loaded by the time you’ve finished your first. You hope he’s right, but you have a feeling your hands are going to ache after this.

He pulls one more gun from its case. It's worn, clearly seen plenty of use. The polymer is dulled and scuffed compared to some of the other weapons that he's laid out for you. It looks like someone took a file to the barrel and sanded it at an angle. He handles it with care, looks it over twice before he sets it away from the other pistols.

“What’s that?”

“This?” He says, laying out a stock next to it. That makes you arch a brow as well - a stock for a handgun. “She’s more of a novelty, honestly.”

“She?” You grin.

Leon rolls his eyes. He really should have known you’d tease him for that one. He flips the gun over and draws his finger across the engraving at the bottom of the grip. ‘Matilda’.

Before you can make some smart-ass comment, he clarifies. “She’s a novelty. My first gun. Can’t get rid of her, even though I probably should.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Quicker to tell you what’s not wrong,” he says, loading the magazine fondly. “The trigger is heavy as hell. There’s no rear sight. This is a military model, so if I attach the stock it fires in a three-round burst, but the way the barrel is cut slows down the way it cycles, so you lose a lot of -”

Yeah, he’s lost you. He looks so passionate when he speaks, though, you can't help but stare. You cushion your cheek on your fist just to watch him for a moment. You can't remember the last time you saw his eyes light up like this. You ask questions just so he'll keep talking – “Double action - what does that mean?”

And he's off talking again, showing you the difference on two different pistols.

He catches on to your game after the third question, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He sets Matilda aside, warning you off of trying her for now. His hand nestles home in the small of your back, urging you closer.

“Try this one first,” Leon says. It's smaller than the others, glimmers with a sheen that seems to have worn off the rest. You miss the full name - the something-or-other Shield. He runs you through the gun, shows you the safety and hands you the magazine.

It’s the basics he’s been telling you since before you even got to the range - finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. Only point the gun at something if you intend to shoot it. He shows you proper stance, flexes his knees to emphasize his stance, and you can’t help the little laugh that slips out of you. His brow furrows.

“C’mon, this is serious.” Your laughter dies quick. You quiet, start taking it a little more seriously, chase the hearts from your eyes for the moment.

It feels like you should be taking notes with the amount of information he’s telling you. You nod along, trying to mimic his stance as best you can. Finally, Leon presses the gun to your palm, his hands covering yours to adjust your grip. His touch lingers, fingers sliding along your wrist as he steps away.

“Remember,” he says, loud enough for you to hear over your hearing protection. “Squeeze.”

Squeeze. Okay. You can do that. Just squeeze. You try, curling your index finger. You tense in anticipation of the shot.

The gun snaps in your hand. The grip sears into the soft skin of your palm. The ejected shell casing sizzles past your ear. You swallow the lump in your throat. You’d squeezed the trigger just how Leon had told you to, and you’d still jumped, pulling your shot up and away from where you had been aiming.

You look over to him, about to say you’re doing this wrong, you’ve got to be messing something up - you can’t even tell if you hit the target. Leon’s giving you a thumbs up and a dorky smile when you look over, though, and any thought of backing out splinters into a laugh. His voice is muffled by your earmuffs, but you think you hear him say ‘keep going’.

The rest of the magazine goes by quicker. You never quite get used to the bark of the gun, but you manage to hit the target more than once, letting out a surprised oh! each time. The slide kicks back and you barely notice - you try to fire again and it only clicks limply.

"Not bad," Leon says. You snort, but you’re smiling despite it, removing your earmuffs. Your shots are all over the place. He stares down range, hip cocked against the bench, arms folded across his chest. “You're pulling up and to the right - see?" He says, pacing down the range, gesturing for you to follow him. You trod over spent casings, catching up quick. He points to the groupings, circling them for you as if you were having trouble seeing the holes you had put all over the place.

He walks you back, talking you through pointers while you try to cram that information in along with everything else. You slide another magazine into place and try to get back into position. Your feet shuffle uncertainly on the concrete slab. Something about this is so embarrassing, being so wet behind the ears at something he’s so passionate about - you can hardly swallow around the lump in your throat.

“Hang on.” Leon’s voice cuts through your nerves. You move to lower the gun, but he stops you with a feather-light touch at your elbows.

He moves you into position, his leg wedging between yours, kicking your feet where he wants them. His touch is a suggestion, guiding you into proper form with the faintest press.

“There you go,” he rumbles. He’s pressed so close you can feel it vibrate down your back. His hands slide down your sides, fingers curling into your hips.“Nice and slow. Take your time. When you’re ready - exhale and squeeze.”

How the fuck are you supposed to breath deep and slow, concentrate on firing on the exhale, when his hands are gripping your hips like that? His breath puffs hot against the back of your neck. His voice drifts to you through your earmuffs, cloudy and dreamlike.

“Nice and slow. Squeeze.”

His hands press your hips, kneading - and then he steps back. You take a moment, let your breathing even, find your rhythm. In and out - on the exhale. You squeeze the trigger again, just like he showed you. The gun jumps, but you’re ready for it this time, the shock absorbed in the roll of your shoulders.

Center mass. On target, roughly where you had been aiming. You lean back into Leon’s chest, grinning.

“Good job,” he says. His hands slide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders. “Much better. I’m proud of you.”

A little thrill rattles up your chest. You’re going to have to unpack all of that later.

“Can I see you do it?” You ask, stepping away from the bay. You drop the magazine just like he showed you earlier. All right- maybe not just like he showed you. You fumble with it, just a little, and he does have to remind you to fish out the chambered round.

“I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun.” He says, subduing a grin. He gestures for you to put your earmuffs back on and takes Matilda in hand.

It’s a night and day difference from the way you had shot. He’s quick and precise, comfortable even with the gun he had spent minutes telling you was ungainly. A tight cluster of shots in the chest of the target, two rounds in the head - just to show off, you’re sure. It’s a blink and you miss it exhibition.

And yet, Leon clicks his tongue. “I’m pulling left. See?”

“Mm…” you pop your head to the side, pretending you see what he does. You step up to him, chest pressed against his back and hands at his hips, tormenting him the way he had just done to you. “Maybe if you just…”

Your hands slide to his front, coasting up his chest. He huffs a laugh and it presses his pecs into your hands.

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously,” he says, laughter wobbling his voice.

“I’m taking it just as seriously as you are.”

There’s no arguing with that. He sets Matilda aside and turns to face you. “People pay good money for lessons like these.”

“Yeah? You’re a really hands-on instructor.”

He doesn’t bother hiding his laugh this time. “C’mon. Let's shoot through a couple boxes, get you comfortable. I’ll take you to lunch when we’re done.”

“I thought you packed lunch.”

“Yeah, well. I wanna treat you.”

“You spoil me.”

“I know,” he says, affecting an exasperated sigh. He disentangles himself from you, quickly loading the magazine for your pistol and sliding it over to you. He nods towards the gun you had fired earlier. “That’s why I bought that for you.”

That little shit. You should have known he’d pull something like this.

You open your mouth to argue, but Leon seats a magazine into Matilda and turns to face the target again. “Going down. Earmuffs on.”

Bastard won’t even let you argue about it.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy #x reader

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mentally-a-slut · 18 days

Note

Can I request "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." For Gale with female reader please?

Ahhhhh tysm for requesting! You are my first request! Since you didn't give any specifics about the time frame, I just assumed you wanted it to take place within the events of the game, but it didn't really matter anyway. The reader is left undescribed, though it is implied that she is shorter than Gale. I hope I did your request justice, and let me know what you think!

Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

Rating: E

Warnings: I got carried away and made "spicy" into straight up smut... oops? oral (f!receiving), porn with very little plot, smut

Flirting with Gale was a dangerous game. The back and forth we had going on had been constant, never pausing. I loved bantering with him, but the consistent pull back was beginning to kill me.

Harmless flirts with friends are fun, but I had made it abundantly clear to the wizard that it was more than just friendly banter. And as far as I'm concerned, he's been returning that same energy. And yet, every time we get past the line of flirtatious remarks and balance on the edge of action, he would completely pull away. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was afraid of intimacy.

At first I thought he just didn't like me that way, only wanted to banter with nothing coming of it. But something in the way his eyes glittered when he looked at me told me my attraction was not one sided.

When I went to the others for advice, they gave me jack shit. Astarion thought it was hilarious that I was asking him for romantic advice. I had to threaten to cut off his blood supply just to get him to quite yelling about it. Karlach just told me to "fuck it out," whatever that means. Shadowheart just kind of stared at me blankly. I didn't even bother asking Lae'zel, because I value my life. Wyll had good intentions, but he ended up rambling on about proper courtship methods and respectfully, I couldn't care less.

I had exhausted all of my options, which left me with the one thing I had been avoiding: talk to Gale about it.

It was a cool night, a nice change from the overwhelming heat that had layered over our group the last few nights. The day had been uneventful for once, little more than a few ambushes along the roads and some cackling hyenas. The mood around camp was significantly light than usual, everyone content with the lack of carnage.

I didn't give myself much time to rethink my actions, deciding to force myself into the conversation before I could chicken out.

Gale sat in his tent, reading a book with the doors pinned open for anyone to enter. He always stayed awake later than the others, often waiting until everyone else had closed their tents for the night to follow suit. He thought nobody noticed, but it was one of the many things that made me gravitate towards him. He was so naturally protective, unknowingly watching out for everyone.

As always, I took a moment to admire him before he noticed my presence. He looked so calm, contently scanning the pages of the tome in his hands. His everlasting yearning for knowledge was something I couldn't help but admire. I watched as his fingers curled under the parchment of the book and gently flipped the page, hands calloused from years of magical studies.

Gods, his hands that were so veiny and strong, rough but gentle, perfect to glide across my skin and make me shiver with-

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

I jumped at the sound of his voice, my thoughts that had previously consumed me dissipating. My face felt hot, blushing as if he was able to read my runaway thoughts. "Hi!"

I internally scolded myself for how not-smooth I was being. He carefully marked his place in the book before setting it aside, still seated in his chair as he looked up at me expectantly. His lips twitched into an amused smirk. Handsome bastard knows exactly what he does to me.

"Did you need something from me?"

I tilted my head at his question, blinking as my thoughts grew a mind of their own. I need you to kiss me until I can't breath. Touch me all over and make me shake with pleasure. I shook my head, gathering my thoughts before saying: "Just... wanted to talk to you about something."

He raised an eyebrow, an action that would have had me down on my knees if I had even just a tad bit less dignity. "Is it... a good something, or a bad something?"

My heart started racing in my chest, blood rushing in my ears. "Uhm... well, I suppose it depends. I think it's a good something, but, well, I can't speak for you..."

He stood from his seat, his movements quick but not aggressive. He always took care to control his actions, never making them seem offensive or startling. My eyes widened slightly when he reached behind me to unpin the tent flaps and let them fall closed, his frame slightly hovering over me for a moment as he did so.

His expression was open, concern and care written all over his face. "You can always talk to me. I'm here to listen."

Good gods I want to suck his dick until his brain explodes.

I cleared my throat and shifted nervously, looking up at him. "Right! So, I just... well, I was talking to the others about- actually that's not a good place to start, uhm..."

His amused smirk didn't go unnoticed. He had always liked when I got nervous, especially if he was the reason. "Take your time, darling."

Fucking Hells, he is trying to kill me.

I fought the urge to avert my gaze, forcing myself to keep eye contact. "Uhm, so, you know how we... well, obviously you know, but I mean- Fuck's sake, I mean to say, you know how we, like, flirt?"

His expression didn't falter, smirk growing into a knowing grin. He hummed an acknowledgement that sent vibration through my body, making my heart race even faster. His gaze flickered over my face, then quickly swept down my body, almost fast enough to miss.

"Well, I- Not that I don't like it, I love it! I- I mean, I don't want it to stop I just- Gods damnit, I just wanted to ask- shit... Why don't you just fucking kiss me already?!"

The silence that followed my stuttering words was overwhelming, blanketing over me and making me want to melt away into the earth to never be seen again. My embarrassment only worsened when I heard the slightest chuckle from the man in front of me. My heart dropped as every worst case scenario ran through my head.

He's going to laugh at me, tell me it was just for fun, that he would never want to be with me, he's going to make fun of me to everyone else-

"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I would be able to stop."

I was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the close quarters of the canvas tent, and how Gale was only a few inches in front of me. I brought my eyes up to meet his, blinking rapidly as I tried to process what he just said. His stare held mine, a underlying air of vulnerability in his confession. With a shaky breath, I managed to utter out my response.

"Who said you had to stop?"

His lips crashed against mine within seconds of my hushed words, heated kiss melding our lips together. His hands, his gorgeous hands that I had spent weeks fantasizing about, were gripping my waist and pulling my body flush against his. My mouth moved in sync with his so naturally, so smoothly, that we could have been made for each other.

When I realized my hands were idle, I quickly remedied it and wrapped my arms around his neck. I didn't even notice I was tangling my fingers in his hair until I tugged lightly and was rewarded with a soft groan against my lips. The noise spurred me on, and I nipped at his lip lightly. Soon, our tongues were wildly clashing together, breathing heavy as involuntary sounds of pleasure were exchanged within the kiss.

I yelped when he suddenly lifted me off the ground, hands firmly gripping my ass as he held me. I held onto him, giggling into the kiss as he pressed against me. The stiffness of his arousal against my thigh was enough to make me shiver with anticipation, and he noticed.

He pulled away from my lips reluctantly, settling his forehead against mine. "As much as I want to do this," he glanced down at our positioning, my core level with his growing erection, "I want our first time to be something special."

I tried not to show my disappointment, silently nodding as I prepared myself to drop back onto the floor. As I loosened my thighs from his waist, I squeaked in surprise when his hands roughly squeezed my ass. "Ah ah, I didn't say I was doing to leave you wanting, did I?"

My cheeks reddened as I realized what he was implying. "Oh, Gale, you don't have to-"

"I want to. Trust me, I really, really want to."

His words were drawn out, almost a moan as he pleaded. His darkened eyes were practically begging. "I... If you're sure-"

He cut me off with a searing kiss, turning us around and laying me down on his bedroll. My whole body tingled with excitement as his body hovered over mine, lips desperately kissing down my neck. With the way he was panting as he nipped and kissed down my body, I could almost say he was more excited then me.

His stare was piercing as he looked up from my waist, silently asking for permission. I couldn't help but smile as his fingers grazed the waistband of my pants, impatiently fidgeting with the fabric. "Yes, please, Gale."

He all but tore them off, taking both my pants and underwear off in one go. His hot breath tickled my arousal, and I sighed as his hands lightly caressed the insides of my thighs. His touches were gentle, slow movements spreading open my legs and bearing my glistening entrance to him. I tilted my head up to look down at him, only to find his gaze transfixed between my legs. He practically whimpered his next words: "So fucking pretty for me."

I couldn't help but moan at his words, the heat of his breath ghosting over my clit. His eyes broke away for a moment to look at me, and he gave me a smile that made my heart swell before he dove in.

His beard rubbed against my thighs as his lips and tongue explored my cunt, the burn of his jaw emphasizing the blinding pleasure of his mouth. He moaned against me as he licked a long stripe along my folds, the teasing sensation sending a jolt of want through me. Before I could beg for more, his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking gently as he teased a finger at my entrance.

All coherent thought was left behind, all I could think about was Gale, Gale eating my pussy, moaning into me, rutting into the air as he pleasured me. "Fuck, Gale, please!"

He hummed against me, the vibration adding to the pleasure. He slipped a finger into my dripping hole, pulling his mouth away from my clit to look up at me. "Look at you, darling, so wet and ready for me."

I moaned as he pumped his finger, keeping eye contact with him. When he teased a second one, I couldn't stop my head from falling back with a moan. "Please!"

With a soft groan, he did as I asked. "As you wish."

The stretch of his second finger burned deliciously, his pace torturously slow. My walls pulsed around him, the softest parts of me jolting as he brushed against them. His thumb brushed against my clit as he quickened his pace. I reached out a shaky hand, tangling my fingers in his soft hair and tugging him forward.

He moaned at the tug, immediately replacing his thumb with his mouth. My back arched off the bedroll as he sucked harshly, his fingers brushing against all the right spots. He teased another finger, and my grip in his hair harshened. It must have encouraged him, because he soon plunged a third finger inside of me and relentlessly flicked his tongue over my clit as he finger fucked me.

My thighs began to constrict around him, orgasm fast approaching. He groaned against my cunt, gripping my thighs open and speeding up. "Fuck, I'm close!"

Another hum against me had my walls pulsating, orgasm crashing through me as he coaxed me down with his tongue sending overwhelming jolts of pleasure through me.

He gently removed his fingers, caressing my thigh as he swept his tongue through my folds, gathering my arousal. His gentle movements soothed me through the slight overstimulation as he cleaned me up with his tongue. My vision was unfocused, aftershocks still rolling through my body as he finally pulled away, slowly kissing up my body before planting a sweet kiss on my lips. I chased his kiss as he pulled back, and he chuckled as I pouted. "You did so well for me, love."

I whined at his words, desperately clawing him towards me and pulling him into a slow, sensual kiss. His clothed erection prodded my bare thigh, and he groaned when I shifted against it. "Don't tease me, darling."

I smiled up at him, tilting my head. "Is that a threat?"

He gave an amused hum against the skin of my neck, speaking between soft kisses. His words were teasing, yet heavy with intention.

"It's a promise."

#fem!reader #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #x reader smut #one shot #afab reader #azi's creations #female reader #x reader #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 x reader #request

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thatdammchickennugget · 4 months

Note

hi my favourite author!!

could I request a Blaise smut?? Thanks

What He's Missing

pairing - blaise zabini x fem!reader

a/n - thank you so much for the request love! <;3 and seriously I need someone to teach me how to come up with better fic titles..

warnings - fem! reader, smut, fingering, oral (fem! recieving), kind of public smut, MINORS DNI || 18+

wordcount - 1.7k

As you step out of the shower, the warm water droplets cling to your skin, leaving you feeling refreshed. You hastily dry yourself off and let out a groan when you realize you forgot to grab a fresh set of clothes. You check the dryer, finding a load of your roommate's laundry waiting to be folded and put away. Reaching for the first of Enzo's clothes you can find—a cozy, oversized shirt that drapes comfortably around your body, you slip into it, reveling in the softness against your skin. You're sure he won't mind.

Hanging up the towel you used to dry your hair off, you go to open the door, already debating what movie you would curl up with for the rest of the night. Tonight, you were supposed to meet a guy you had met at work, but he had stood you up, ruining your chances of finally getting laid again. But you were determined to turn the night around and enjoy yourself, even if that meant rotting on the couch by yourself and eating your weight in ice cream.

With a sigh, you make your way out of the bathroom, expecting the apartment to be empty as Enzo had told you not to expect him to come back early. As you enter the living room, your eyes widen in surprise as you find your roommate's exceptionally attractive friend, sitting on the couch. The room seems to crackle with an undeniable energy, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest as Blaise's eyes wander from your face and down to your bare legs.

Blaise's captivating gaze meets yours again, and there's a moment of hesitation as you try to collect yourself. Flashing him a friendly and confident smile, hoping to break the initial tension that always seems to sweep through every room the two of you find yourselves in together.

"Hey Blaise," you greet softly, tugging the hem of the shirt down. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for Enzo," Blaise replies smoothly as he sits upright, his hands moving to clasp in his lap. He looks like a model, perfect and well put together. "He gave me a key. Sorry, I didn't know you were home. He mentioned you're on a date."

You raise an eyebrow as you lean nonchalantly against the wall by the doorway, crossing one leg over the other to keep your balance, trying to look unaffected. It's one thing to be stood up, but another to be pitied for it by the guy you had been kind of crushing on for months.

"He didn't show," you say, shrugging, still fighting the urge to fiddle with the bottom hem of your shirt or fidget with your fingers.

"Unlucky bastard," Blaise snorts, slowly raking his eyes down your body again, as if he wants you to see him checking you out. "Doesn't know what he's missing out on."

"Yeah," you agree jokingly, biting back a laugh as your cheeks grow warm at how blatantly Blaise was flirting with you. "Well, Enzo shouldn't be back for a while, but you're welcome to stay and wait. I was just about to start a movie, if you want to keep me company?"

The smile on Blaise's face grows wider, and you find yourself momentarily mesmerized as he stands up and saunters over to where you're standing. There's a moment of awkward silence as he pauses in front of you. His hand is hovering slightly near your arm, but he doesn't touch you. "Sure, why not?" he answers lightly.

"Okay, let me just go and find some actual clothes," you mumble, going to push past him. However, the man grabs your wrist, pulling you in closer. For a brief second, you think he's actually going to kiss you, but instead, Blaise turns you so that your back is resting against the wall. You stare dumbly at him, your neck craning to find his face towering above you.

"I have something a little more fun than a movie in mind," he murmurs huskily, his hand finally touching the skin of your arm, gently sliding up to cup your neck. "And you're already dressed perfectly for the occasion. If you're up for it?"

His voice is low, dark, making you shiver involuntarily as your entire body tingles at the brush of his fingertips along your cheekbone. He leans in further, so close you can count each individual eyelash, but before his lips meet yours, his eyes meet yours again, waiting for confirmation that what he was doing was okay.

A part of you wants to tell him no, afraid of what would happen to your friendship after, but another part wants to give in to this fantasy you've been falling asleep to most nights. Your eyes flick between his and his lips, and suddenly you can't remember the last time someone looked at you with such intense longing. With a deep breath, you tilt your head up to capture his lips with yours.

It takes everything in your strength not to melt instantly into him. His tongue traces across the seam of your mouth, and you immediately whimper as he nips and sucks hungrily at your lower lip. Your free hand grips onto his shoulder, trying to anchor yourself. His tongue slides into your mouth, stroking delicately, teasingly.

You can barely breathe, all of your senses focused solely on the sensation of being so close to him. He smells amazing: the scent of roses and expensive cologne mixed together, and he tastes even better. Your mind is swimming, his kiss full of heat and desire, and as your lips slide together and he pulls you flush against him.

You almost lose track of time as a slow, lazy rhythm sets its course between both of you. His hand slips underneath your shirt and and he lets out a satisfied groan at finding you're completely bare underneath, sending sparks down your spine and causing you to moan lowly as you clench the fabric of his shirt in your fists.

His fingers trace small patterns on your waist. He feels good pressed against you—warm, firm, sturdy. Every ounce of your willpower tells you to pull back, pull away, stop this. To get away and never talk about this ever again. Instead you run your fingers through his hair, holding him tightly as you both kiss hungrily.

Your knees buckle when his hand finds your center, a finger sliding between your folds, his lips pulling into a smirk when he finds you already dripping for him. His thumb circles lazily around your clit, eliciting a strangled whine from your throat as you arch your back in response. His hand moves faster, harder now, working magic that leaves you feeling wrung out and desperate, needy for more.

A small sound comes out your mouth as you press your face against his neck, breaking the kiss, and pant heavily into his ear. Blaise presses his hips into you, his searing, solid weight caging you in. Just as you want to claim his lips once more, he sinks to his knees. You might have been embarrassed by the surprised sound leaving your throat at the sight of him looking up at you as he ran his hands up the back of your thighs, if your brain was still able to form a coherent thought.

A rough hand cups your ass while the other pushes your shirt out of the way. Blaise's eyes lock with yours one more time before he surges forward, kissing along your bare thighs until his lips finally reach where you want him most. You cry out as you feel the warmth of his tongue lick along your folds, teasingly brushing against your entrance.

"Oh god," you gasp quietly. "Fuck, Blaise." You feel his finger enter you, pushing gently in and out of you as you move your hands to grab his shoulders and grip them desperately.

As he continues to lick and suck and tease your sensitive clit, you throw your head back against the wall as pleasure courses through you. Your moans turn incoherent, as the pressure starts building between your legs. He adds another finger, the speed of his thrusts increasing steadily as you start moaning loudly. You don't care whether anyone hears, you're too far gone, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you, and you just want to feel him.

"Merlin," he mumbles, his hot breath hitting your core making your toes curl. "I knew you'd taste this good."

"Fuck," you moan out, hands sinking into his hair and holding on to dear life while he continues to eat you out as if it's his last meal.

"You're so tight, baby." He's adding another finger, curling them and hitting a spot that has you seeing stars, and a sharp wave of ecstasy washes over you, forcing you to cling onto Blaise to stop yourself from collapsing to the floor from pure bliss. "Just so fucking wet for me."

"Fuck," you moan again as he pumps his fingers inside you, stretching you.. The intrusion is overwhelming, and for a split second, you don't know where you are.

Your vision blurs as you begin to come dangerously close, your breathing picking up in pace, and as his lips keep sucking at your clit, he seems to sense your approaching release and starts pumping a bit quicker. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, whimpering softly, the feeling washing over you again in waves.

As you come down from the euphoria, you notice Blaise watching you intently, his pupils blown wide and dilated as he kisses along your exposed stomach.

"Fucking gorgeous..." He mumbles quietly, looking back up at you, a grin growing larger when he catches your eye. You could swear there was something darker behind his eyes as well... Almost as if the look of sheer lust were enough to make you forget the rest of the world existed.

In that moment, you both freeze, the sound of a key sliding into a lock bringing you back to reality. Blaise is quick to stand up, his hands finding their place on the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He pecks your lips again, offering a coy smile. "Maybe we should continue this in your bedroom?"

Blaise Taglist - @slytherinboysappreciation @urmomsgirlfriend1 @starsval @gillyweeds @gayforyelena @ravenclawprincess33 @sbrn0905 @Yhiiil @tristanswildcat @themarauderswife7 @bath1lda @pinkposttragedy @allshitsangiggles @marsbars09 @vcosette @rinalouu @agent-tempest @thebiggestnaturaldisaster @unstablereader

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#blaise zabini #blaise zabini smut #blaise zabini fanfiction #blaise zabini fanfic #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x reader smut #blaise zabini x fem!reader #blaise zabini x you #smut #requested #mari writes #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction

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tragedy-of-commons · 2 months

Text

killjoy

childe x gn!reader | wc: ~1.6k

You catch your boyfriend setting up the cake.

tags/warnings: bday fun, modern & college au, based off of the American College Experience™ sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, teucer is a national treasure, comedy, possibly ooc, reader has hair

notes: for @staarri's 100 followers & bday event <3 trying to write childe was a nightmare but the wheel of doom has spoken. chosen prompt "cruel summer" :)

It has been one hell of a day.

Pop quizzes in two of your classes (that you are now tanking), getting heckled by that same group of protesters, slamming head-first into a glass panel like a pigeon, and then getting splashed by a puddle via a speeding car.

To give credit where credit is due, you’ve suffered through every incident with class and poise. Despite how you drip with murky street water, the saving grace that is the promise of your warm bed keeps you from inventing new profanities and falling to your knees in the student parking lot.

It’s almost over with, it’s almost over with—

The splintered door of your dorm unit has never looked more welcoming. When your keycard is approved with a click, you heave the barrier between you and uninterrupted sleep wide open. However, what you don’t expect is the little spectacle unfolding in your kitchenette.

Who you belatedly realize is your lovely boyfriend is sticking candles into something - it being quickly shielded from your view as he reacts to your arrival.

“You just had to be early,” he grins, revealing those pearly whites, “Maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Killjoy’.”

“Ajax?” He’s here? Today? But he said— He must notice your sorry state, but he’s wise enough not to mention it. “You really think I’d miss celebrating your birthday in person? Seriously, what kind of partner would I be, just sending you a text? Babe, you gotta start setting some higher standards.”

“Rotten liar,” you mumble, growing smile threatening to split your face in two.

A small flash of copper peeks around the bedroom-adjoining hallway, hyper. Teucer rushes up in front of his brother, the latter ruffling his hair. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”

You snort, wondering if anyone else is planning to jump out of the shadows. “My sincerest apologies. I could always leave—”

“No need,” Ajax dismisses the notion with a cavalier wave. “I think we’re all ready, huh Teuce?”

He huffs in agreement, beaming up at you like you hung the moon. “One second!”

Teucer scampers off faster than you can blink, making you bellow a laugh. His energy knows no bounds, necessitating many hours of entertaining his whims. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Happy birthday,” Ajax says softly; wistfully.

You stalk over to him, embracing your boyfriend like he might disappear into thin air without a moment’s notice. “If you broke in, I will be calling campus security.” “You’d never turn me in! Also, we just so happen to still be on the guest card from last week.” You part from his warmth so you can kiss him. He tastes of sugar, the bastard.

“Buttercream?” you place, peering over his shoulder. The sight of a round cake on the counter confirms your suspicions, and your heart swells. He would’ve had to bake and decorate it somewhere else, given that ovens are a luxury you do not possess in college hell. You picture him in his too-nice apartment, piping frosting in the familiar loops of your name. “Yes!” Teucer rushes back in (you note that he’s hiding his hands behind his back), while Ajax pokes your nose. “Big brother spent soooo long on it!”

You snicker deviously. “Really?”

“No reason to lie,” your boyfriend pouts, “Though I’m a bit hurt that you’re both trying to embarrass me, after I went to all this trouble..”

Teucer sticks his tongue out in disgust whenever you console Ajax with another kiss, likely wanting you both to hurry up your gross couple stuff so he can show you his gift. It’s presented to you ceremoniously, and you honor the splendor by pretending not to know that it’s definitely one of his toys.

Your acting is award-winning, perfectly ignoring the obvious ridges and appendages of a Transformer. After tearing open the paper, you’re told that his name is Mr. Cyclops and you have to take good care of him - your sworn oath.

(Of course, Mr. Cyclops will mysteriously end up back in Teucer’s bedroom if you can count on your partner in crime to help you out. You and Ajax share a Look that hints at conspiracy.)

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he is governed by even one modicum of shame. During the Happy Birthday song, he performs with his whole chest, much to your chagrin. You think that Ajax lives the most for other people; even if it shines brightest whenever he teases and flusters. His camaraderie is most genuine when he’s this comfortable - when he knows that the present moment is all he needs to focus on.

When did he start letting his guard down? You find yourself unable to recall among past memories of trudging to the local diner at ungodly hours, cramming for finals at the library, and responsibly talking him down from any antics that would surely get him in trouble.

(Maybe it was when you first held an ice pack over his eye, swollen shut from a punch he shouldn’t have taken just for the thrill of it. Your admonishment must have been jarring, because without any teasing remarks whatsoever, he promised that he’d dial it down. You remember lacing your fingers with his - and promptly threatening to “embalm him with jet fuel” if he ever got hurt again.)

Now your relationship has progressed to the point where spending your first birthday together feels natural. It feels so natural that shitty paper plates stacked high with slices of cake is enough to make you forget that you look like that one damp owl picture. Ajax, as per his boyfriend duties, has to remind you, of course.

“Bad day, huh?”

You rest your chin on your fist, elbow supported by the armrest of your (comically small) couch. In retrospect, the fleeting illusion of a living room probably wasn’t worth it. Squished into a corner by a dozing Teucer and an awake Ajax, you yawn. “The worst, actually.”

“Well, we can’t be having that,” he tips your chin up to meet azure hues, “Maybe my gift will make you feel better.”

You blink. “Gift? You don’t have to, you know. The little guy’s was plenty enough for me.”

Ajax spares a fond glance at his little brother, whose head is resting in his lap, legs thrown over the opposite armrest. “Nonsense! If you’re worried about me having bought out a whole store—”

“Don’t tell me you—”

“—Then you have nothing to fret over, Killjoy,” he laughs. “It’s pretty small.”

You don’t suppress the smile that breaks out on your face. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Hopefully not too hard.” He’s so annoying. You want to kiss him stupid.

From what you assume is from his back pocket, he removes a black silk pouch before dropping it into your awaiting hand. He was right about it being small, that’s for sure. Toying with the material of it for a moment, you pull open the bag delicately. Ajax tenses. “So.. whaddya think?”

Inside is a brass key that fits into your palm nicely. Of course you’ll love anything he gives you, but you’re unsure of what this could mean. Is it symbolic? Literal? You thumb over the grooves, unsure of what they could possibly unlock. Your head swims with a fuzzy feeling that you don’t entirely hate.

“What’s it to?”

“Our place.”

It’s perfect. You turn the object this way and that way, swallowing. “Giving me my own copy? You realize that you’re gonna be stuck with me crashing at yours way more often, right?”

Your boyfriend wraps a sturdy arm around your shoulder. “It’s not there for you to crash, it’s there for you to stay. I want you to move in with me.”

The following awed silence from you is clearly taken as something else, because Ajax backpedals in that flippant way that belies the panic he’s actually feeling. You need to tell him that it’s okay; that it’s more than okay.

“Of course you can say no, but the rest of your birthday plans kinda hinge on the possibility that you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and say yes,” he amends.

You pay no heed to his theatrics, because all you really need is him. Gross. “Duh, idiot. As much as it kills me to say this, I’d want nothing more.” Ajax glows. “Because you’re head over heels in love with me?”

“No, because I won’t have to drag my ass to the laundromat anymore.”

The offended sound he lets out is muffled with your mouth against his once more, and the tears that roll down your cheeks are obviously not because you’re ecstatic to be so involved in his life. What a preposterous idea.

His hands cradle your face, a little awkward because of the position, but he’s so warm.

“Killjoy, I have something to confess,” he breathes, pulling back enough so you can see the faint constellation of freckles dotting his features. “You need to start packing immediately, or else the flowers will wilt before you’re able to see them.”

You sigh, happy-sniffling. “Flowers? Is a bouquet perhaps part of these ‘birthday plans’?”

Ajax dries one of his hands stained with your tears off onto his shirt before raking it through Teucer’s curls affectionately. He stirs but does not wake. “Try thirty!”

“Ajax..” The horror in your tone barely disguises the admiration.

“I love you too, Killjoy.”

That night, when you’re both alone in his apartment, tangled in each other’s arms, your overnight bag on the floor - you tell him the same. The few tears he sheds into your hair are also definitely not because you’re finally comfortable enough to say it back. Ridiculous.

taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @bfajax, @aphrodict, @nomazee

#✧ my works #—stellaronhvnters.#childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #ajax x reader #genshin impact #zira's lover : event

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flem17ng · 5 months

Note

would love love love a jessie x dancer!r pls & thankyou 💖 ps I love your work

strength and grace: Jflem x dancer!reader

note: This was so fun to write anon! Thanks for the prompt x

summary: jessie passes the same dance studio every day on her walk and admires the dancers. It never occurred to her that one of them was admiring her back.

word count: 2.7k

The snow was thick on the pavement that morning and jessie thanked the poor bastard who’d taken the time to salt the path the night before. The snow made banks in both sides as she trudged onward. Her hands were shoved deep in her pockets and she hid her face in the collar of her jumper. Training never stopped, even in winter when the wind was sub zero and the field had to be heated. She was passing a small row of shops when gentle music made her pause. It echoed strangely through the empty street. It came from a stone building with large windows. She’d seen it before but had never taken the time to admire the dancers within.

The glass was almost frosted over, but she leaned up to see inside.

A lone figure stood in the warm light dressed in a half zipped hoodie and sweatpants. Her hair was in a messy bun that seemed to be slipping from the hair-tie. The woman moved to the music like water: graceful and fluid. every so often she paused, pressed a button on her phone and started the dance again.

Jessie could have stayed there for hours watching that girl dance. But eventually her fingers started going numb and she was rudely reminded that she had to get to the training ground.

She loved being back home in Canada, loved it even more when she was home for winter. Everything was so quiet and cold. The hockey season was kicking off, the ski fields opened up. Unfortunately it did mean training her ass off in freezing rain most mornings and today was no different. the raindrops started falling heavily as she pulled herself away from the dance studio window and she wished, randomly, that she was in there with that strange dancer instead of out in the cold.

***

No matter how many times you practiced the move, you couldn’t pin it down. The studio was empty that morning because you had come in so early. You’d had to hype yourself up to get out of the house because of all the snow on the road. You have never been so grateful for the studios heating system.

“fuck” you groaned. One second off the beat! Maybe you were being a perfectionist but it needed to be perfect. You pressed play again. The music filled the room in waves: piano, strange vocals, guitar.

You lifted your hands above your head and moved. The dance wasn’t for a competition or anything, more of a passion project. You danced to get out emotions, to release. You moved to the music fluidly, feeling it, understanding. The tricky part was coming up again and you scrunched your eyebrows, focusing.

“ugh” you groaned again and rubbed your eyes. you psyched yourself out again. You looked around the empty studio and caught movement in the corner of your eye: a woman walking past the window, bundled up in the cold. For a second you thought your eyes met but she kept walking. maybe she was watching you dance, you thought and smiled.

***

Jessie stood with her teammates as they made their lap of the stadium. The game had gone well and the energy was always fantastic during a home game. It was extra special for her because the game was so close to home. The crowd was full of family and friends. Fans who traveled to be there held large signs and decorated themselves with maple leaves and red paint.

It was no small secret that you were a big fan of women’s soccer. Specifically that you were a big fan of Jessie Fleming. You first watched her play in the olympics a few years ago and from then on went to as many games as possible. Your friends often teased you about it, and sure, maybe it was a little silly. The truth was you just loved to watch her move. The way she ran across the pitch, the way her legs seemed to go wherever she needed to be. her muscles stretched and contracted and her arms- Ok so maybe it wasn’t just about her soccer skills.

The game had been a good one, you’d managed to get tickets right at the front and now the whole team was standing just a few metres away waving to the crowd.

“omg Y/n i think that player you like is looking at you” your friend whispered with a smirk. You scanned the team and sure enough Jessie Fleming was watching you. She had a strange expression on her face, as if she was looking for someone she knew. Her cheeks were red and her hair was messy from the game. Dispite the cold air, she had pushed up her sleeves to sit above her shoulders making you blush.

She kept looking at you before shaking her head and giving you a grin.

“what was that about” your friend laughed and slapped your arm. You would have replied but at that moment you were far too busy reminding your heart how to beat properly.

Down on the field Jessie was tugged away by Quinn. they were talking about something, ball movement or something along that line but jessie was still thinking about the girl in the crowd. Maybe she was being crazy but she could have sworn that was the dancer from the studio in her town. The way You had smiled at her left her feeling a little dizzy.

“hello Jeffy? are you listening at all?” Quinn laughed giving Jessie a small shove.

“What of course I am! Ball something right?”

Quinn shook their head with a smile.

“You’ve been out of it since i caught you staring all gooey eyed at that lady in the stands! Do you know her?”

“I was not gooey eyed! also no one says that anymore. I don’t know i think she’s from my town.” jessie explained with a humph.

“well i’m pretty sure she was wearing your jersey. Must be a fan” Jessie blushed but brushed them off. She was a grown woman! she wasn’t getting ‘gooey eyed’ over a pretty stranger who happened to dance like an angel.

***

The next day Jessie made her way up the street to the studio with a purpose. She needed to see you. Even if she didn’t know you, even if she didn’t speak to you, She wanted to see you, To make sure it really was you at the game.

When she reached the window she didn’t hesitate to lean into the glass and look into the warmly lit room. Instead of an empty room like a few day before, there where lots of young children in tiny too-toos. The music was light and bouncing and the kids laughed and screamed as they pointed their toes and spun around. It was a moment before the instructor came into view and, just as jessie had thought, it was you. You stood at the front of the room in a skirt that matched the children’s, a glowing grin covered your face as you corrected the movements of a few stray kids.

Jessie couldn’t help but smile as she watched you dance around the group, movements just as fluid as before but playful, full of joy, childish.

She blinked and you disappeared, the class still dancing to the music inside.

“excuse me? can i help you” You asked, head sticking out the door into the frosty air. Jessie turned, startled, only to watch your face change into a similar look of surprise.

“I’m so sorry! I walk by here to get to my work and i usually stop to watch you dance! I didn’t want to interfere.” Jessie squeaked, feeling suddenly guilty.

“no no! don’t worry i just- I’m sorry I’m y/n.” You smiled and stepped onto the front step, your breath making clouds in the air.

“I’m jessie” she grinned and held out a hand for you to shake. You blushed and took it.

“Jessie…” you breathed. “well Jessie, I wish i could chat for a while but these kids might light something on fire if i’m gone too long!” You began to turn back inside when she touched your arm to stop you.

“i’m sorry this is so unusual but… Did you go to a football game last night by any chance?” Jessie questioned, wondering if there really was any way to ask this in a not creepy way.

“i did yes. My uh, My favourite player was playing” you grinned and turned back inside. Jessie stood there on the step for a minute after you closed the door. It was you she had seen in the crowd, and you had a favourite player… Jessie wasn’t sure why that made her stomach flip. She wanted to be your favourite player. The thought hit her like a tone of bricks. She barely knew you for christs sake! yet here she was, standing in the snow outside your studio thinking of every way she could make you like her.

***

The next match came faster than expected. It was a friendly up in toronto and the team was buzzing. Jessie had spent the past few travel days planning how she could impress you. Honestly this wasn’t her thing and maybe she was being crazy but that didn’t stop her. The day of the game was cold, the pitch was hard and the game itself even harder.

It was second half when the penalty was given to canada: the wall was set up and jessie (the designated kicker) was lining up the shot.

The crowd roared and she spared a glance at the stands. It was then that she spotted you, sitting right by the goal in a thick Canada jumper.

The whistle blew and jessie kicked. The ball sailed through the air, spinning and spinning. The crowd had already begun the rise when it slipped past the goalies fingers and slammed into the back of the net.

Jessie ran forward towards the crowd and lifted her hands above her head, arching up into her toes and lifting her head to the sky mimicking the movement of a ballet dancer. At the last second, before the team ran into her, she looked at you, making sure you had seen the celebration. Sure enough, you stood in your seat, grin plastered across your face giving jessie a thumbs up. It was pretty easy to say that was the best game all season.

***

The damn heating system had broken down. On the plus side, the kids classes had been canceled that morning because of the snow, on the down side: You now had an extra hour of empty studio time in the freezing Canada cold. You switched the music on, adjusted your jumper and started to dance. You had finally finished the number, ironed out the kinks and gotten past the tricky timing. The movement flowed easily and you let your muscles relax and you danced. You were so engrossed in the music that you didn’t hear the door open or the footsteps on the floorboards. Only after the dance ended did your intruder announce herself.

“sorry i didn’t know your coffee order so i just got hot chocolate” You wizzed around at the sound of her voice and saw her leaning against the mirror with to steaming cups and a sheepish smile.

“Jesus Jessie! you scared me!” You tried to look angry but couldn’t, instead breaking into a grin and grabbing a cup from her outstretched hand. The drink warmed up your hands and you took a moment to let the heat seep through your bones.

“you look so peaceful when you dance” Jessie all but whispered, looking down at her own cup.

“oh… Thank you. I use dance to… center myself i think.” You leant against the mirror next to her and watched her watch you for a moment. “Nice goal the other day by the way. Very impressive. The celebration was a nice touch even if your form was a little off”

Jessie blushed and rolled her eyes at herself, still in disbelief that she had done that.

“well, I needed something to get your attention didn’t i?” she muttered.

“you already had all my attention. I told you i was there to see my favourite player didn’t I?” You unzipped your number and turned around showing her the large “17” on your back. Jessie opened her mouth into a little ‘o’.

“oh! I’m your favourite?” She smiled with wide eyes. You just laughed and shook your head.

“of course you are!”

jessie grinned and ducked her head, embarrassed. Here she was making a fool out of herself for a pretty girl who already liked her.

When she looked up she found you watching her with warm eyes. You admired her for a moment: Even in the cold of the audio Jessie seemed to radiate a warmth, a cozy energy. Her cheeks were pink (from blush or cold you couldn’t tell) and her eyes sparkled in the warm light.

“I love hot chocolate by the way” you stated, holding up the cup.

“oh yeah? Lucky guess i suppose.” Jessie took a large gulp of her own drink leaving a fine line of chocolate froth of her top lip.

“oh wait you have- let me” Before you could think, you leant forward and wiped the foam from her top lip with your thump. Jessie let out a sharp breath making you pause, thumb still resting near her mouth. you looked at each-other for a long moment, your hand not moving, your eyes traveling from jessie’s eyes to her lips and back again.

The door opened with a bang causing you both to jump apart.

“Y/n!! we need to get the bloody heater working before tomorrow or i will freeze!” One of the other dancers yelled before noticing the awkward air in the room. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t know you had a… guest?”

Jessie coughed and stepped back. “no that’s ok I was just leaving” she turning and walked towards the door quickly.

“wait jessie-“

“see you later y/n” jessie gave you a wave and a lopsided smile before stepping outside and out of view.

***

You couldn’t make it to the next game because it was in another province but you watched on TV. Jessie was glowing the whole game: running like lightning, tackling the opposition seamlessly. When she made an epic assist you stood on your sofa and cheered. And when the ball hit the net and the whole Canada team copied Jessie’s celebration from the other night (arms up, toes pointed like a squad of muscly ballerinas) you couldn’t help but gasp and slap a hand over your mouth. She knew you would be watching, Of course she did.

Maybe it was this elation that possessed you to walk to the training center in the small hours of the morning on the day the team was set to arrive back. Maybe the thought of jessie smiling as she pretended to dance on the field was the thing that had you waiting for the bus to pull up and the doors to open. Whatever it was, there you were: the sun not yet risen, freezing in your ‘Fleming’ jersey in sub zero temperatures as jessie, looking tired and sore, got off the bus with her team.

You waited no time running towards her, pausing only a second so she could drop her bags and open her arms. When you hugged her, all of a sudden you felt like no music or dance in the world could explain your feelings.

“Jessie- I saw on TV! Did you ask them to do that with you? I saw-“

Jessie cut you off, placing a hand on your neck and finally putting her lips of yours. Her lips were cold and yours tasted like lip balm but you didn’t care. You pulled her closer and kissed her. Vaguely you could hear the team cheering but you paid it no mind, holding your girl close.

This was all you needed. She was all you needed.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #canwnt #woso x reader #woso

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redamancy-writes · 1 year

Text

Jealousy on the Boardwalk (The Lost Boys 1987 x Female! Reader)

Word Count - 1036 Fandom - The Lost Boys 1987 Pairing - Poly! The Lost Boys 1987 x Female! Reader Title - Jealousy on the Boardwalk

Jealous - fiercely protective or vigilant of one's rights or possessions.

“All of these attractions, and I can’t help but keep my eyes on you, sweetheart,” You felt like you jolted out of your skin as Paul was suddenly behind you, his hands snaking around your middle as the rest of the boys approached.

“You scared the hell out of me,” You laughed as he pulled you into him, Paul’s face diving into the crook of your neck to pepper kisses against the flesh.

“S’rry,” He murmured against your skin as each of the other boys approached to give you their own greeting. A kiss to the knuckles, a devilish grin and a kiss to your nose, and an appreciative glance over your form before a gloved hand cupped the side of your cheek and kissed the other.

“What do you boys have planned tonight?” You asked as Paul kept you locked in his arms, feeling particularly affectionate tonight, while the other three surrounded you two.

“Some rides, some food,” Marko grinned as he pointed to the newest addition of the Santa Carla boardwalk. It was a thrill ride, and you couldn’t quite make out the name as the neon lettering was too far for your eyes to fully focus on, but you could hear the screams of terror and resounding laughter of groups of friends as it took them through it.

“That looks like fun,” You mused, a gasp leaving your throat as Paul decided to begin to nip against your flesh. “Paul,” You muttered in warning as he laughed before pulling away.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Marko pulled you free from Paul’s grip.

“Hold on, hold on,” You laughed as he started tugging you towards the ride, “I think I need to hit the bathroom first, then go on the ride.” You explained as he looked at you with a confused expression.

“Knowing you four, it will be hours before you’ll want to take a break,” You tossed a knowing glance to Paul as he was already antsy to get going, ping-ponging off of Marko’s energy.

“I’ll meet you all over there,” You pecked Marko’s lips before you were disappearing into the crowd, David’s eyes watching over you until you entered the public bathroom.

“C’mon, I’m going to grab a slushie,” Marko nudged Paul, the two making their way to the treats stand, Dwayne and David resting against the handrail, eyes wandering the crowd as they waited for your return.

“Phew,” You wiped the water on your hands off on your jeans as you left the bathroom, the hand dryer not doing a damn thing to dry your hands after washing them. Eyes scanning the crowd, you grinned as you made eye contact with Dwayne, his lips quirking into a grin as you began to approach only for a wolf whistle to catch your ears.

Dwayne’s expression morphed into a glare, gaze drifting to your left as the Surf Nazi’s whistled and called at you.

“C’mon hot stuff, you bounce on those biker’s dicks all the time, you can give us something!” You felt heat crawl up your neck as you ignored the group, biting your tongue as you moved past them to get towards David and Dwayne.

You blocked out their voices as you kept your gaze on David, only for a reaction to be forced out of you as a loud smacking sound brought your attention back to the group. The sting on your ass came after.

“What the–”

“What the fuck did you just do to our girl?” You didn’t even see Marko and Paul, but now Marko had the bastard up by the collar, their noses nearly touching.

“C’mere,” Dwayne pulled you to him, facing you away from the group. You didn’t want nor need to see what those three were about to do. “Let’s go get you a drink, hm, maybe a milkshake?” He was seething, hands trembling with rage but he kept it under wraps as you heard a sickening crunch while he led you away.

As the two of you sat in the booth, you swirled the straw around the milkshake, briefly letting your gaze flick up from the creamy beverage to Dwayne’s face as he stared out the window, eyes flickering back and forth.

“You okay?” You broke the silence, making his attention snap from the window to you.

“You’re asking me that?” He grinned at you, “How about we reverse that question, how are you? Are you okay?” Dwayne reached a hand over, interlacing your fingers with his.

“Meh, I’ve been better but I’ve certainly been worse- but I do have a milkshake so,” You shrugged while smiling, “I just hope the others are alright,” You frowned.

“You worried about us, doll?” David questioned, just now adjusting to putting his gloves back on as they entered the diner.

“Always,” Your eyes flickered over each one of them, your frown deepening. Marko had a split lip, always being the one to jump in head first into fights, and you could tell Paul had gotten several good hits in, knuckles bruised and blood caked on them. David, you couldn’t tell, but you figured the gloves were now not for a personal style choice, but to ensure you wouldn’t worry.

“What happened when we left?” You knew what happened, or at least had a general picture, but you couldn’t help but ask.

“They got what was coming to them for touching our girl,” David said simply as you scooched further in the booth for him to sit next to you. Paul took his place next to Dwayne as Marko pulled up a chair to sit at the edge of the table.

“They won’t be bothering you anymore,” Marko gave you a smile as he leaned his arms against the table.

“Oh?”

“Not if they want to live,” Paul muttered as he grabbed a menu off the condiment caddie. David’s eyes flickered to Dwayne while he put an arm around your shoulders, a raised brow sent his way while Dwayne subtly nodded in response.

They had more business with those Surf Nazi’s, but for now there were more pressing matters, such as getting you fueled up and turning this night around.

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#the lost boys david #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #x reader #tlb fanfic #tlb x you #the lost boys 1987 x reader #the lost boys 1987 fanfiction #fanfiction #reader-insert #slasher imagines #fanfic #the lost boys #the lost boys david x reader #female reader

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forestshadow-wolf · 6 months

Text

Cw: mention of suicide (not graphic), (vague) mentions of torture

Vamp!ghost in a pure silver muzzle so he can't prey on anyone.

He got turned and muzzled by human!Roba because the torture got so bad that he killed himself, and Roba couldn't have that, so he had him bit. By vernon.

The sadistic bastard was stoked to be able to keep Ghost around a little longer as his "play thing"

The muzzle, little more than a cage for his face, was five horizontal bars with one bisecting the center vertically. At the base of the mask where it sat on his mandable was a hinge, so it could expand and contract because Roba still wanted him able to talk and scream, like the sick fuck he is.

It burned and bubbled and hissed as it seared onto his face, melting the skin so it would cling to the metal when it "healed"

With Ghost's newfound immortality Roba was able to have so much more "fun" with him. He kept him for years, cutting him open whenever he felt like it, just "to see what's going on in there". Branding him with silver to "see what it does" (like he didn't already fucking know). Starving him for months on end. And the muzzle never once came off. When he did get it was through a straw that he was graciously given a single pint of blood.

Then he got bored. And he threw him away. And still the muzzle wasn't removed.

No not thrown away. Buried. In a load of shit. In the desert. One last experiment. To see what Ghost could withstand. He was doomed to burn to death, and even then it was to starve for eternity, or drink through a straw for the rest of his life. He sure as hell wouldn't be getting the muzzle off himself.

One good thing he learned through all this. How far he could break before he truely broke.

Roba locked him in Vernon's reinforced casket, and threw away the key. It took two days of nonstop beating at the wood before he got out, even with the help of the deceased vampire's jaw.

It took 3 days of hiding, and 4 nights of running at inhuman speeds to find the nearest army base.

He also found out that to say he was "starved" wasn't exactly accurate, but there was no other way to describe it. How else you do describe a lack of a need to eat, and yet feeling your body weaken just the same. How else do you explain the feeling of his body using up the blood in him. The way his heart never beats so he needs new blood to replace what has been absorbed or turned into waste, later to be released as venom. What word do you use to describe that othern than "starved", but it's an inhuman kind of starvation, so completely NOT human.

When price found him he was sucking his fifth stolen blood bag dry. He truely was "starved" after so long of not feeding.

The man said he was putting together a task force with the help and authority of a CIA agent. The man, Captain Price introduced him to a dryad, a nature spirit.

It's unusual for a spirits and sprites, especially ones so close to nature, to be in such a violent line of work. But here he was, nonetheless.

Price himself was a normal human, it's the only way the force was allowed to come into fruition.

Ghost was taken to a medic, to see if they could remove the constant burning silver from his face. But it was no use, the doctors said their tools were too soft to ceable to cut into his skin to remove the muzzle. And so there was nothing they could do, short of ripping the thing off, which would only cause more damage, and they didn't have the manpower to do so anyway.

So he stayed in the muzzle, donned a mask to avoid sun exposure, and price made sure to keep a constant stock of blood packs for him, even if sometimes he was reduced to dumping dehydrated pigs' blood into a glass of water, price made sure he was never "hungry" again.

Then price found soap. A natural born werewolf, he said. And he was all rambunctious and happy-go-lucky energy, or that's what it seemed like on the outside. Then Ghost learned that he was a sniper and demolitions specialist, with a wicked memory, and a background intense anti-interrogation training, and he has to wonder how much is for show.

It's only after they defeat hassan that soap asks about it. The muzzle. He knows he saw it when he removed him mask in Las Almas, but he said nothing about it, not did Ghost offer anything.

Soap says he thinks he can get the muzzle off, but they'll need to take leave, head back to his home. Ghost isn't sure how he likes the sound of that. He does want the burning silver off, but he's pretty sure he's heard that wolves and blood suckers weren't exactly friends. And while he's already dead, he can still be killed, and he definitely can't survive an entire pack of wolves (sans one)

Soap says it'll be fine, he'll vouch and/or protect(?) Him. Price encourages him to go, says he can finally get the stupid cage off. And gaz is laughing his ass off at his predicament, and just generally being unhelpful.

A phone call home to Mama Mactavish, explaining the situation had Ghost reluctantly agreeing to go, if only to appeasethe frantic woman. Soap requested 3 months medical leave for both of them, and price easily signed off on it, practically pushing them out the door.

Soap's home was nice, a fair bit or farmland with a large home that just seemed to radiate comfort.

Mama Mactavish was first to meet them at the door with a fresh batch of homemade danishes, she pulled them both into a bone crushing hug and ushered them inside. She didn't even flinch at the sight of the muzzle or the horribly "scarred" skin underneath or his fangs.

Simon wasn't so sure what to think about that, he'd never had this kind of kindness before. He didn't hate it. Everyone else was almost as friendly, and he couldn't tell if it was a pack of anomalies, or if the rumors were false. They even had fresh lambs' blood for him, warmed to perfection.

He and Johnny were given a day to rest and settle in, then they were being woken at the crack of dawn, to start collecting herbs and begin preparations. Mama explained that it was a family secret, so she swore him to secrecy.

He supposed it only made sense for a family of werewolves to know how to treat silver burns.

She put Johnny to work making so sort of... salve (us that what you call it? He wasn't sure), then mama had donned a pair of gloves and had him lay down with his head in her lap, she started massaging the salve into his skin around the muzzle.

It was slow work, and took hours to make even a small bit of progress, but progress it was. As more and more of the silver lifted, Johnny helped slide gauze underneath to prevent it from burning back on.

It took all day and most of the night to finally be able to lift the muzzle off, but Mama never once complained.

Simon thanked her profusely, and would be forever indebted to her, but she just waived him off.

A week later the wounds were still trying to heal over, and he knew by the end of their leave there would be little more than a faint scar over near-perfect skin.

There was one night that Johnny had joined him sitting out on the porch. One unable to sleep, and one who would never sleep again.

"Why did you help me?" It'd been running through his head since they arrived. "You hardly knew me."

"I know you enough." Johnny chuckled, knocking their shoulders together.

"But why?" He still didn't understand.

"You know what it's like to have the words 'echoic memory' on your file? I do. It's why I took all that extra training, put it to use a few times too. But nothing could have prepared me for being force-fed silver." Johnny shivered with a faraway look in his eyes. "The pain lasted months. I couldn't be active for nine months. I can only imagine what it must've been like to live with that on your face for years."

"Thank you."

Johnny nodded.

They spent the rest of the night there on the porch, at some point Johnny fell asleep on Simon, and Mama found them early in the morning.

#vampire au #vampire!Ghost #Human!Price #Dryad!Gaz #werewolf!soap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #mama mactavish is a lovely woman #soapghost #ghostsoap #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #also ghost is a fresh vampire in this #echoic memory!soap #just for funsies #el rambles

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