#elizabeth 1 x reader

[writing-house-of-m]

Date Night

Taylor Sloane x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You celebrate your two year anniversary with Taylor

A/N: This is the first of the 1 year celebration requests I got. The request can be found here. There are many more to come this week! I hope you like it and let me know what you think 😊

Prompt: "All they keep asking me is if I'm going to be your bride."

"I'd like at least one night with you Taylor. I feel like you're always being hounded by your fans recently." You can't help but feel exasperated, today is your two year anniversary and this was supposed to be a romantic evening for you.

You see the sympathetic expression on Taylor's face but you continue, "All they keep asking me is if I'm going to be your bride."

Taylor goes wide-eyed, you don't know why. It has been two years and you have spoken about getting married before, it shouldn't be such a shock to her.

Before either of you are able to say anything else, you are being escorted to your reserved seats in the swanky new restaurant you have chosen for your date night.

When you are seated, the waiter talks through the evening specials and the drinks menu before leaving you alone.

Taylor watches the man leave and stops you from saying anything by stretching across the table to hold your arm, "Listen babe, I know it's annoying but it's just the two of us now. Can we enjoy the rest of tonight?" The soft look Taylor gives you has you nodding your head.

You look over the menu with furrowed eyebrows still a little frustrated about not having been able to fully rant but you set it aside for now so you don't ruin your date.

The evening goes on and you feel the stress leave your body the more you converse and laugh along with Taylor.

Even with how much lighter the atmosphere has gotten, you can't help but notice Taylor acting a little strange, looking around and fidgeting. You choose not to comment on it for the time being.

Nearing the end of the date, when desserts are finished and final drinks are being drunk, Taylor has her hand resting on yours atop the table. Her thumb soothingly rubbing over your knuckles. But her eyes keep shifting to something behind you so you feel this is the right time to ask, "Taylor, is everything alright?"

"Yes!" Taylor answers a bit too quickly. She clears her throat and tries again, "I mean, yeah. Of course everything is alright. Why wouldn't it be?"

"You've been acting a bit on edge tonight. Are you sure everything is okay?" You ask again, the worry showing on your face.

Her tense shoulders drop slightly as she sighs. Taylor nods her head smiling, "Everything is perfect honey," she replies calmly.

You notice the air around you change. The music being played at the piano becomes softer and Taylor won't stop smiling at you.

Taylor stops you from turning to look around by calling your name and putting her other hand out for you to place yours into. "I love you so much. From the day I met you, you have changed my life for the better."

You are a bit confused where this is coming from but you sit and listen to all the nice things Taylor is saying to you. Your mind starts to piece things together when you recognise the tune of the All My Life by K-Ci & JoJo playing behind you.

Rising from her seat, Taylor moves to kneel beside the table closer to you. You smile emotionally and Taylor laughs as happiness fills her eyes.

"This has been a long time coming but, Y/n L/n. Will you marry me?" Taylor opens a small ring box that she has seemingly pulled out of nowhere, a diamond ring sitting in the cushion.

You don't know how much time passes because you are staring at the ring, surprised this is happening tonight. You realise you haven't given an answer yet, "Yes! Yes, of course I'll marry you!" You exclaim.

Taylor slips on the ring then gets onto her feet so she can kiss you. You hear some people clapping around you but you are too caught up in your girlf- fiancé to care.

Taylor pulls away and rests her forehead against yours, "That explains why you looked so nervous tonight," you whisper making Taylor laugh.

Shortly after Taylor gestures you out of your seat and you leave the restaurant hand in hand. The addition of the cool metal feels strange on your finger, making you wiggle it between Taylor's grip.

The whole walk to the car waiting for you outside is filled with happy smiles and Taylor whispering all the ways she wants to celebrate with you when you get home.

#taylor sloane #taylor sloane x reader #taylor sloane x you #taylor sloane x y/n #taylor sloane fanfic #taylor sloane imagine #taylor sloane fluff #taylor sloane x reader fluff #taylor sloane drabble #taylor sloane blurb #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x y/n #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen imagine #ingrid goes west fanfic #ingrid goes west #self insert fanfiction #reader insert #fic #1 year celebration #date night tag

[januaryembrs]

TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.

word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)

trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.

next chpt.

main masterlist.

authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!

[this] means its spoken in another language.

—

‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,

I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’

1. the one where you become a translator.

“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa. 

A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached. 

It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up. 

“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,” 

“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,” 

Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different. 

Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug. 

Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup. 

“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.

Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct. 

“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown. 

“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”

Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought. 

“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up. 

Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.

“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?” 

“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap. 

“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.

Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.

“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned. 

Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister. 

“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.

Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered. 

“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,” 

Spencer gulped quietly. 

Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”

–

Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan. 

Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze. 

She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman. 

“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it. 

It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors. 

She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs. 

“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.

“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,” 

He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.

“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?” 

“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,” 

She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”

She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them. 

“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”

“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”

“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter. 

“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.” 

She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student. 

“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again. 

“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”

Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words. 

How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?

–

“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently. 

She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore. 

“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly. 

“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse. 

“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish. 

“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod. 

“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket. 

Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours. 

“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,” 

“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more. 

“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet. 

“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt. 

“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick. 

“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her. 

“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,” 

“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway. 

“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.

Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny. 

In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them. 

“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face. 

Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder. 

“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips. 

“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them. 

“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed. 

“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol. 

“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown. 

“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze. 

“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her. 

He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her. 

“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly. 

“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”

A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in. 

“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command. 

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,” 

“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!” 

“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?” 

“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand. 

“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.

A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be. 

“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,” 

“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep. 

“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue. 

Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent. 

“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”

Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],” 

The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses. 

“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun. 

“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],” 

“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],” 

Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car. 

“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”

“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,” 

With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips. 

“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside. 

“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,” 

“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand. 

“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,” 

She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened. 

–

The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer. 

Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera. 

She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture. 

There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good. 

But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately. 

“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language. 

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully. 

She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.

“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair. 

“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?” 

She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,” 

It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them. 

“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them. 

“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls. 

“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place. 

“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door. 

She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face. 

It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice. 

Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon. 

“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”

Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers. 

“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?” 

“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.

She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant. 

-

“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod. 

“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,” 

“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.

“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front. 

And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost. 

“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,” 

“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk. 

“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?” 

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”  

His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh. 

“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully. 

“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did. 

Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over. 

“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile. 

“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice. 

“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat. 

She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.

“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen. 

“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”

“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,” 

“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,” 

She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs. 

“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile. 

“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,” 

“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,” 

“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face. 

“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat. 

She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding. 

It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else. 

So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from. 

There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing. 

“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin. 

“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,” 

“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,” 

But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation. 

So why lie?

She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately. 

“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster. 

“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction. 

“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,” 

The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head. 

“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly. 

Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do. 

And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight. 

–

The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself. 

“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk. 

“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her. 

“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes. 

“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.

“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.” 

“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too. 

“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place. 

“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”

“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke. 

He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that. 

“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-” 

“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant. 

“Before when he said it was ��our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at. 

“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,” 

The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”

“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.

“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed. 

“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,” 

Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation. 

Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”

She frowned at him, scoffing,  “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”

The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”

She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her. 

“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?” 

Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,” 

But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly. 

“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her. 

“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-” 

“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,” 

Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself. 

He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.

-

“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”

“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.

“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.

“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left. 

“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”

“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”

“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes. 

“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”

“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back. 

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer. 

“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”

It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house. 

-

Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes. 

“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window. 

“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”

“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”

She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”

“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-” 

“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”

“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her. 

Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”

Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,” 

Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her. 

Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all. 

Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.

He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number. 

“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.

“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.

“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”

“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,” 

“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.

+1. The one where you get arrested.

The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him. 

His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so. 

Yet so was Emily. 

The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway. 

“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.

“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?” 

She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times. 

“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,” 

The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown. 

Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad. 

“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea. 

The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat. 

“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”

“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,” 

The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront. 

“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose. 

“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb. 

“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch. 

“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”

“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear. 

“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. 

“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.

She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh. 

She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.

Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”

-

“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan. 

“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder. 

The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.

“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.

Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her. 

“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury. 

She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke. 

“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them. 

“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,” 

“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible. 

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out. 

“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”

Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan. 

“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,” 

If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze. 

“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,” 

Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans. 

“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never. 

He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far. 

“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,” 

She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl. 

“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,” 

The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”

“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.

Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road. 

“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,” 

JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line. 

“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms. 

Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them. 

“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,” 

Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet. 

“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,” 

JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later. 

“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,” 

“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.

“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.

“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more. 

“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,” 

Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”

The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on. 

“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought. 

“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,” 

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off. 

“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault. 

“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”

“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”

Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block. 

“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs. 

“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,” 

He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.

He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas. 

Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried. 

Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth. 

“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back. 

+2. The one where you graduate

Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life. 

With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk. 

“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”

Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face. 

“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table. 

Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.

JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again. 

Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up. 

It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough. 

“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”

“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”

“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”

“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.

Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”

As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.

The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”

Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-” 

“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”

“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words. 

Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”

Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast. 

“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”

Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing. 

“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming. 

“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”

The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered. 

“Bug-”

“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation. 

“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,” 

“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”

Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”

“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”

“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down. 

The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you. 

“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,” 

JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-” 

“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”

“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”

-

“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-” 

The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. 

The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled? 

Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her. 

But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother. 

All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery. 

“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.” 

P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it. 

She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close. 

“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”

She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab. 

Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika. 

She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps. 

To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was. 

Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her. 

Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them. 

And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat. 

The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand. 

And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs. 

Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close. 

“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer. 

“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team. 

“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,” 

She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand. 

“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”

She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.

“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”

“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”

“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer. 

Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy. 

“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”

Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling. 

“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.

“Don’t even,” 

+3. The one where you’re taken hostage

“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss. 

Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready. 

“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound. 

“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?” 

“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,” 

Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy. 

“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup. 

Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”

“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path. 

A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on. 

The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first. 

She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye. 

“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”

She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?” 

Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing. 

“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,” 

“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track. 

“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses. 

“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm. 

“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.

“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.

“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand. 

“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”

He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,” 

He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers. 

Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head. 

“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long. 

Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant. 

“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.

“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,” 

“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound. 

“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”

Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing. 

He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there. 

It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back. 

-

Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before. 

She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery. 

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye. 

She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.

 Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it. 

“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off. 

That was when the shooting started. 

She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening. 

Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye. 

“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”

“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”

“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church. 

They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised. 

Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen. 

She could only hope Emily was safe. 

She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister. 

Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.

Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person. 

Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall. 

“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.” 

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine. 

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting. 

“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed. 

“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,” 

And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away. 

–

They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax. 

She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze. 

“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes. 

“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered. 

“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”

Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said. 

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push. 

“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,” 

“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,” 

Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”

And so they did. 

–

Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals. 

She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving. 

“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,” 

“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again. 

The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,” 

Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,” 

She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”

He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,” 

She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly. 

“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”

She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude. 

“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”

Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”

She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious. 

Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness. 

“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them. 

“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.

If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou. 

“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her. 

 “The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”

She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick. 

Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage. 

–

The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive. 

The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice. 

They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms. 

This was not good. 

“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression. 

The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear. 

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach. 

She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy. 

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily. 

But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won. 

Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple. 

“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight. 

“It’s me,” 

She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving. 

Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.

“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head. 

He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise. 

He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture. 

“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull. 

She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them. 

It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was. 

–

She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least. 

She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her. 

Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds. 

She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating. 

But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”

Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl. 

“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”

“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.

“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,” 

She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,” 

“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed. 

Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action. 

–

Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over. 

Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?

She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless. 

It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now. 

It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority. 

2:53 stared back at her. 

At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened. 

2:54.

She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle. 

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor. 

“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them. 

She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical. 

Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost. 

Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth. 

She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free. 

He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet. 

“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”

Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine. 

She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.

And she saw why. 

Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight. 

Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps. 

Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle. 

Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more. 

“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her. 

“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her. 

Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared,  still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs. 

He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly. 

“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his. 

She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved. 

“You saved mine,” 

And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay. 

Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.

“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”

She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying. 

“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”

“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”

Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes. 

She stayed with Emily for a month after that. 

+4. The one where you leave the altar. 

She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building. 

Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors. 

Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse. 

Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran. 

Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state. 

“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”

“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”

“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”

She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight. 

“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”

She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street. 

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius. 

She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister. 

“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-” 

“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”

Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug. 

“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner. 

“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body. 

“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.

“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric. 

“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!” 

He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave. 

“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”

“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days. 

“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,” 

“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog. 

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”

Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back. 

“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll. 

“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”

“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,” 

She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat. 

“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”

“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.

“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more. 

“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-” 

“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.

“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings. 

“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”

“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?” 

“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,” 

“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,” 

“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”

“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess. 

“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders. 

“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,” 

His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off. 

“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist. 

Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess. 

Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,” 

Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be. 

“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through. 

–

let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??

Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺

SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!

#spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #Prentiss #prentiss!Reader #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #mathew grey gubler #Matthew grey gubler x reader

[miley1442111]

motherly instincts- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: aaron's mother can only be helpful to you postpartum, right?

pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: fluff, body shaming, feeling of discomfort, postpartum, reader is postpartum and aaron's wife.

You were pregnant. It wasn’t exactly planned, but Aaron and you were ecstatic all the same. Jack was excited to have a new sibling and he was totally ok with it. At your wedding, you had adopted Jack, meaning you were already one of his legal guardians. The only problem was telling everyone. The team were ecstatic for you, Jj giving you tips, Spencer sending various articles on pregnancy and childbirth, Derek promising his babysitting service, Emily promising to come and help out in anyway, and Penelope sending you cute baby clothes ideas (and buying them for you).

But telling Aaron’s mother. 

That was a shit show. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re pregnant?” she repeated. The lack of emotion in her face and voice made you feel practically sick. “Why?”

“Mother-” 

“Is Jack not enough for her?” She asked like you weren't even there.

 You took a deep breath. “I adore Jack, you know I do. We weren’t exactly planning this-” Wrong thing to say.

“So you don't want the child?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his. 

“Of course we want our child!” You exclaimed and she looked taken aback. 

“Aaron, she’s shouting at me!”

“I will be too if you don’t stop this mother.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had since reached out and apologised, so you felt that it was ok to let her come and stay for the week, they were her grandchildren too.

You had given birth to twins, two girls. You named them Elizabeth (Beth for short) and Natalie (Nat for short). You both loved both of them so much. They had taken Aaron’s dark hair, and your eyes. They were beautiful. You adored them. Aaron adored them. Jack adored them. 

Aaron’s mother… not so much.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 1

She had already bulldozed through your regular routine. You were exhausted from literally growing two children and then pushing them out and into the world. Aaron understood that. Jack understood that. Aaron’s mother did not. She expected you to just be fine. She expected you to do all the cooking and cleaning while she took care of your newborn babies. Aaron basically had to put her in a time out and lock the door to the nursery to let you just be with your children for more than a few minutes. Jack loved coming in to see his sisters whenever he could, which meant Ms. Hotchner also had to be allowed in. So, you were basically banished unless you wanted to argue, and trust me, you didn’t want to argue with that woman. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Aaron?” You mumbled as you climbed into bed beside him, both the twins and Jack down for the night. 

“Yes honey?” he whispered, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Do you think you could talk to your mother? Just about letting me have some down time with the twins?”

“Of course darling, I didn’t realise it was that bad,” he looked down at you. Even through the darkness of the room, you could see the guilt on his face. 

“It’s not!” You lied. “Just… I don’t know,” You sighed. “It doesn't matter, sorry for worrying you. You shouldn’t say anything.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, scepticism clear in his voice. “I’m happy to talk to her. She’s only supposed to be here if she’s helping. If she’s not helping we can ask her to go home.”

“Aaron, it’s alright, I promise.” 

“Well, tell me if it gets bad, alright?  I know she can be overbearing sometimes,” The amount of care and love present in his voice and words almost brought you to tears, so you just nodded and pressed your head into his chest. You felt him chuckle. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

After a few minutes of his comforting voice and soft hands lulling you into drowsiness, you were asleep. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the baby monitor went off and you slept through the cries of your children, Aaron smiled. He was happy you were getting sleep. Insomnia had been the prevailing issue of your pregnancy, and it drove you crazy. He got up, swaddled and fed his babies, checked in on Jack and got himself a glass of water. He lay down beside you again and cupped your cheek. You were sound-asleep as he looked at you with all the love in the world. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 2

“Did you sleep?” You asked your husband. “I’m so sorry I slept through it, I just… next time you should wake me up, ok? I’m so sorry-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “I was fine, don’t worry. I’m glad you’re finally getting some sleep,” he smiled playfully at your glare. 

“I can take Jack to school if you want to lounge around for a bit?” You offered, hopeful that he would let you. He shook his head and dipped down, kissing you again. 

“I’m fine. I’ll walk him there, then go for a run.” 

“That’s a brilliant idea!” Hotch’s mother exclaimed. “She’ll go for a run and drop Jack off. She needs to start getting rid of the baby fat.”

Your jaw genuinely dropped. There was no way anyone would have the nerve to say that to you. Not when you were literal weeks postpartum. You knew you didn’t look the same as before, you hadn’t expected to. But to be confronted with it so blatantly was a stab into your confidence. 

Aaron’s face hardened and solidified into one of irritation and annoyance. “What did you just say to my wife?” 

“Aaron. We can’t lie to her! It would just be a disservice,” your mother-in-law said as she stood by the coffee machine, a frown on her lips. “It’s only a few miles-”

“If you ever think about talking about my wife in that way I will not hesitate to block your number. You can pack your bags Mother. I’ll call you a taxi,” Aaron got his phone out, a comforting hand on your waist. 

“Aaron, that’s a bit drastic-” You tried but his voice cut yours off, ordering a taxi to your house. He thanked the person on the line and smiled at you as he hung up, his mother’s temper tantrum beginning. 

“She doesn’t get to talk to you like that. No one does.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no day 3. She left your house, essentially cursing you, but you didn’t care. It was finally the way it was meant to be. Just Aaron, Jack, the girls, and you. 

Your perfect family. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

[ellastone-olsen]

can you write a smut story where reader had to wait the entire ceremony (Golden globes) before she could take the gorgeous dress off of Lizzie. And Lizzie’s been just teasing her so when they get home reader rips the dress and takes Lizzie please 🙏🏻 I love your writing <3

Wicked game | Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: your girlfriend has gone too far with her teasing. that's what it says in the request

★Warnings: SMUT 18+, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, sex toys, strap on usage, praise, aftercare, fluff

★Word count: 1.8k

★AN: I have some kind of creative block, but I'm alive. I spent 5 days on this little thing instead of the usual 1.

The car slowly cut through the road, drifting between streams of the same iron boxes on wheels. The interior of the black SUV was spacious, but you and Elizabeth still sat shoulder to shoulder as the pad of your thumb stroked her knee through the fabric of snow-white dress. "Am I look good?" such a simple question with an obvious answer, but she still needed your confirmation. You cupped her cheek with your hand and turned her head towards you. “You are always beautiful my love” You give her a quick kiss on the lips and then look into her big green eyes. An idea just came into her sweet head, otherwise you can’t explain the sudden change in mood. She takes your hand and places it on her chest. “Then can you show me how much?”

A shiver runs down your spine and you nervously look at the driver's seat, noticing how the man is looking at you through the rearview mirror. As soon as your gazes intersect, he immediately turns his eyes back to the road. “Oh don’t worry dear, he will have to pay dearly if he spills the beans about what he saw.” Elizabeth whispers in your ear, you hope that by pay she means money. She moves your hand further, under her dress so that you touch her bare breasts and moans softly in your ear, making your core begin to pulsate. "Babe." You're warning her not to start something she can't finish. Her teeth bite your earlobe and you want to pull her away by hair, but you remember about styling. "Elizabeth." Your stern tone and the full form of her name still have an effect and she moves away. You don’t respond to her sweet smile, the car is just stopping.

The Golden Globes look spectacular, but boring. You are absolutely not interested in the speeches all these people make when they receive an award. People you don't know say words of gratitude to people you don't know again. The waiters obligingly drift back and forth, serving glasses of champagne and appetizers that are inedible to your taste. You just stand on the side and look around while your girlfriend talks to other celebrities or gives interviews. When you finally sit down in your seats, you cross your legs and lean back, unable to sit up straight. Elizabeth sits in such a way that the Queen of England would envy her if she were alive.

Time passes and you drink your second glass of champagne when it seems to you that something is touching your leg under the table. You don't pay attention to it until the action is repeated. The head turns to your girlfriend, but it looks like Robert Downey Jr.'s award ceremony is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. However, where her hands are says otherwise. Elizabeth's right hand triples on your thigh, red nails lightly scratching through the thin fabric of your pants, sending shivers down your spine. You stare at her, but the older woman doesn’t even think of turning her head. "Stop it." Your irritated, harsh whisper flies past her. As a sign from above, the bell rings, signaling a break, and without wasting any time, you grab Elizabeth’s hand and drag her away towards the toilets.

She sighs when she suddenly finds herself pressed against the wall, of course you can be rude, but first cover the back of her head with your hand so that she doesn’t get hurt from the blow. “What games are you playing today?” A hot whisper near her ear makes the woman hold her breath for a couple of seconds. Her answer doesn't keep you waiting. “But you like it, don’t you?” Elizabeth puts her hands on your waist, touching you through your thin shirt and tilting her head to leave small, light bites on your neck. “If you continue, I’ll push you into the toilet, lock the common door, bend you over the counter and...” You lose your breath from the stronger bite. “And what, dear?” The bell rings again, signaling everyone to return to their seats. You stand pressed against her for a few seconds, then push yourself off the wall with your hands and rub your neck where Elizabeth’s lips were, erasing non-existent traces of lipstick. The two of you go to your seats and no one seems to notice your disheveled state.

The ride home is quick and quiet, for two reasons. The older woman realized that you would ruin her for all her antics as soon as she set foot on the threshold of the house. She was in anticipation and silently looked out the window, imagining all the options for the development of events. The second reason is what you said to the poor driver when you got into the car. “You have 10 minutes to take us back, Elizabeth is terribly tired.” The black car brought you home in exactly 10 minutes. You gave the driver a tip for being in a hurry, even though it was not customary. When the front door closed behind you, what the older woman expected and desired happened. You grabbed her hand and quickly led her to your bedroom. When the door to the room closed, in one motion you threw Elizabeth onto her stomach on the plush blanket of your large bed.

Your hands pushed her hair back, exposing her slender neck so you could kiss and bite it. The woman's hips shot up, but you blocked the movement by straddling her. “If you think that you will get what you want quickly, don’t hope.” The zipper of the white dress was pulled down, almost breaking the zipper. Her dress and panties disappeared from her in record time, and you somehow managed not to tear them.

When you took a few steps back admiring the picture in front of you, your gaze caught on her wet shiny folds. She had definitely been looking forward to this all day. Elizabeth turned her head to the lack of action on your part to check the situation and saw you taking out from the nightstand the black compact vibrator that she loved so much. There were two scenarios in her head: either now she would get the best orgasm of her life, or she would die from overstimulation, but she really hoped for the first.

You returned to your girlfriend and moved her hips closer to the edge of the bed so that she rested her knees on the plush pile of the carpet and exposed her ass to your view. Your hands stroked her soft thighs, you couldn’t resist and leaned towards her dripping center to run your tongue along the entire length, tasting her. A shaky sigh escaped the woman's mouth above you and you repeated the action, gripping her hips even harder (there might be bruises there later). A mixture of pleasure and slight pain made her unconsciously lean back for closer contact. In what seemed like such a simple and innocent action, your palm landed on her ass with a loud slap. "No, no, don't you dare move." There was the first warning, which caused a groan of pain to escape from the older woman.

After you were satisfied with her taste, two fingers slipped inside her so easily, stretching the velvet walls. The second hand pressed the toy’s power button and you set the speed to medium, bringing it to her pulsating clit. "Hold it." Elizabeth reached underneath her and grabbed the silicone object, holding it in place. “If you disobey me, an even worse punishment will follow. You understood?" The older woman's mind was clouded with pleasure, but she hummed in agreement anyway. Her thoughts were confused by the way you moved inside her, pressing on a sensitive spot. Another slap to her ass. "Use your words." Her back arched and she was ready to swear that she would cum from such rough treatment. “Yes, I understand...please Y/N.” With every thrust, you felt her walls squeezing tighter around you. Elizabeth could no longer find words and shouted curses into the emptiness of your house. “Fuck...I'm going to cum...please can I?...” You cut her off. "No. Take it away."

She obediently removed the toy from her throbbing clit, stopping any stimulation. You were still moving inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her fall over the edge. “Oh fuck...fuck...so good...please can I continue?” You were silent for a minute before you gave her permission, making sure she didn't cum instantly. The woman's hips jumped as the stimulation began again. You pounded into her at a fast pace and after a couple of minutes you felt your orgasm approaching again. "Elizabeth stop." Oh how she didn’t like it when you called her by her full name, it never meant anything good. She put the toy away again and you pulled out.

The woman heard the chest of drawers open again behind her, the sounds of the harness, and then the cold tip of the faux cock pressed into her dripping entrance. You spread her natural lub along entire length and pushed the thick toy into her in one motion. Your girlfriend’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands grabbed the sheets as if they would tear them. "OH FUCK ." You returned her hand with the vibrator to the right place and pounding at her at a fast pace. “Do you like my cock baby? Mmm? Is this what you wanted all this time? So that I could fuck you like the whore?” Your dirty words turned her on even more. "Yes! Yes! Y/N can...can I cum?” She was ready to cry from overstimulation and you took pity on her. You leaned down to leave a kiss behind her ear and whispered. “Cum for me baby.”

Almost immediately, the woman fell over the edge, screaming your name mixed with curses into the softness of the mattress. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm until a small whine was heard from her. You pulled out and took off the strap, throwing it somewhere deep in the room, thinking that you would take care of it later.

Your arms grabbed Elizabeth and you helped her climb onto the bed, lying on her back. Her knees were red from standing on them for a long time and you gently rubbed the skin in the hope of relieving the pain. "My good girl, Lizzie." The lips began to pass everywhere you could reach, starting from the neck and ending with her cute tummy that you loved so much. When you looked up at her again, you noticed that the woman had begun to fall asleep.

“Baby, don’t sleep, you need to take off your makeup.” A hand covered her cheek and the pad of her thumb gently rubbed her cheekbone. “Mmmmm but I’m so tired, it can wait a couple of hours.” She mumbled sleepily. You gave in and covered her naked body with a plush blanket, setting the alarm for 3 hours. When the light in the room went out, Elizabeth had already fallen asleep and hugged you, breathing steadily into your neck.

Your fingers played with her blonde hair until you fell into the realm of Morpheus after her.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wandanat #wandanat x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #natasha x reader #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader

[justabratsworld]

You don’t own me

Yan! Alpha x Omega! Reader

Part 1 out of ? ?

“Alright everyone! Show starts in 30 minutes so get your shit together. (Y/n)! Here, this is your new costume for act #6. Now shoo” Everyone disperses in a frenzy to get ready for the night.

Grabbing the sheer bodysuit from the stage manager (y/n) made her way to her assigned vanity to adjust the scent blockers. The audience doesn’t like seeing them but can’t behave if the dancers don’t wear them. The last time an omega went out there without wearing his scent blockers an alpha straight up took him from the stage and took him home with her…he didn’t come back.

“If this gets anymore see through I might as well be a stripper. Alex! Wheres the rest of the outfit? This can’t be it” Alex peeked his head around the corner to see what the complaint was about now. Being the one to piece the costumes together for each act meant a lot of complaints or last minute touch up. As the beta looks at the outfit being held up, he doesn’t understand where it came from. He would never put one of the performers in that. The material is far too cheap and leaves nothing to the imagination.

“Honeybee, where did you grab that from? Thats not the outfit I set out for you. Yours is the pretty red corset dress with the white pearls. Here-give me this…ugly thing” Alex grabs the sheer monstrosity as if he was taking out 3 week old trash.

“Liam gave me that. He said it was my new costume and tossed it at me. Didn’t say anything else.” Eyes looking sharply at her, Alex, trying to keep his cool, gritted out “Liam? Gave you this. That fucking idiot. Don’t listen to him. Im going to have a little…talk. Get dressed you’re on in 5”

As much as you would love to see that go down, you reluctantly started to get dressed in the right outfit. Today is the 4 year mark of you working here. 4 years of being an independent omega with no mate. Not that you were against having a mate, you just didn’t want to be with an alpha. They were too controlling and suffocating for your liking. In all honesty, you had your eye on Alex since the day you started here. Standing up and walking towards the stage, you started to take deep breaths to steady yourself. You’ve done this act thousands of times. It’s a fan favorite. You were the crowds favorite. Mustering all the confidence you had and putting on your best seductive look, you nod towards Elizabeth.

The curtain opens.

The spotlight shines.

The music starts playing…

Red eyes are on you.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere x you #alpha x reader

[babybluebex]

venus pt.1 | angus tully x fem!reader

summary: after being accepted as barton academy's first female student, you didn't think it could get any worse. as the fall semester progresses, you start to form a friendship with the outcast, angus, but what happens when the holidays come and you are the last two students on campus? PART 1 OF 2 pairing: angus tully (the holdovers, 2023) x fem!reader tags: canon compliance (this is a complete rewrite of the film, just with the added reader insert), lots of swearing, teddy is an asshole but what's new, 70s ideals about feminism (which YES is a warning), mentions of grief/loss author’s note: oof here we go, part 1 of my long-teased angus fic! be aware that this is literally 11k words, so i apologize for the absolute brick wall of text you're about to encounter (but don't worry, i put a read more on it :) ) also, if i missed any warnings/tags, pls dm me and let me know if you think i should add something! other than that, enjoy!

There were worse fates than this, right? There had to be, you were sure of it. You felt every pair of eyes on you as you walked down the center aisle of the chapel, acutely aware of the overwhelming masculine energy that you were drowning in. After all, at Barton, it wasn’t every day that these boys saw a girl. You wondered how long some of them had gone without laying eyes on a member of the opposite sex (a real one; skin mags don’t count). 

It also didn’t help that the priest at the front of the room had intentionally brought everyone’s eyes to you the moment you walked in. You had tried to slip in unnoticed, but he had said “Ah, here she is now: our very first Barton lady! Come sit up front with the headmaster!” 

You anchored yourself in the frontmost pew, next to the headmaster with a hippie beard, and kept your head still and staring straight ahead. You had known very little about Barton before that school year— you were from nearby Boston, and had gone to a larger high school with, not only a more mixed gender breakdown, but a significantly different economic situation than Barton. You had been shocked, as you took the bus from town to campus, at how many Mercedes and Cadillacs you had seen near the school. You felt like a fish out of water, in more ways than one. 

The priest didn’t end his taunting when you sat down, though. “Many of you probably wondered, when you got on campus for the beginning of the semester, what the new building next to the dormitory was,” he began, and you heard a few mumblings from the row behind you, confirming their confusion. “Well, gentlemen, this year… Barton has become coeducational. The new building, Blackwell Hall, named for the esteemed Elizabeth Blackwell, is the girl’s dormitory.” 

The mumbling behind you increased to a dull rumble, and you slightly turned your head to get a glance at the boys sitting behind you. All high school boys, kids your age, staring at you and wondering what your deal was. You took notice of one boy in particular, the only one around you not gossiping with his friends, totally uninterested and picking at his cuticles. Before you could even think to wonder about this boy, someone from near the back of the chapel yelled “Is she gonna be in classes with us?” 

“Yes, she will,” the priest said. “She is a junior, so, gentlemen, make sure you welcome her warmly to our school.” 

You sat and endured chapel while burning from all the stares in your direction, and, as soon as the priest dismissed the lot of you, you shot up and made your way to the doors, clutching your handbag close to your body. The August air hit your face as you stepped out, and you started back to Blackwell Hall, where your things sat, ready to be unpacked, but someone called out to you, demanding your attention. 

“Hey, girl!” You turned to see who had shouted, and you were met with the sight of a boy with caramel-colored hair, wearing a sports coat and tie. Come to think of it, all the boys were wearing coats and ties. You hadn’t been told anything about a uniform, and suddenly your jeans felt less than appropriate. The boy had a cigarette in his hand, and he beckoned you over to him, and you clenched your back teeth as you (for some reason) obeyed. 

“You’re a junior, huh?” the boy asked, and you nodded. “What classes are you taking?” 

You pursed your lips. “Precalc,” you began. “Ancient Civ. Home Ec. Bio.” 

“Gym?” he asked, and you shook your head. 

“There’s not a girls’ locker room,” you said, hoping he understood your explanation. 

The boy ashed his cigarette, and he said, “What period do you have Ancient Civ?”

You tried to recall what you had written down, and you said, “Fourth period, I think. With Hunham.” 

“Oh,” the boy said with a winning smile. “I’m in that period too. Maybe we could be study partners.” 

You drew in a breath and cleared your throat. “Maybe,” you said softly. “What’s your name?” 

“Teddy,” he replied. “Kountze.” 

“Right,” you mumbled. “Well, um, I’ll see you around, Teddy.” 

“Um, are you going to the cafeteria?” Teddy asked hastily, like he was looking for something to talk to you about. “I-I was about to head there, and, if you wanted someone to sit with, I have a spare seat at my table.” 

“I’m not,” you told him. “Gotta get back to my dorm and finish unpacking. I only got in town today.” 

“How did…” Teddy started. “How did you get in? Your folks hear that Barton was going coed and got you in?” 

You shook your head. “I went to Central High School, in Boston,” you replied. “I was doing a research project and saw in a newspaper that Barton was going coed and having a lottery for the first female student. I sorta put my name in as a joke, and then, when I won, it… Wasn’t really a joke anymore. I had to take some academic placement tests, since Central isn’t exactly a highbrow school, and I got a scholarship that covered a lot of my tuition. The board of trustees waived the rest of it, so…” 

“You’re going here for free?” Teddy asked incredulously. “Jesus, I didn’t even know we had scholarships.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t, Kountze,” a voice said from nearby, and you turned your shoulder to see the boy from chapel who didn’t give a shit about you. He stood tall, rail thin, a mop of dark curls on top of his head. He had eyes like black holes, his pale skin so translucent around his eye sockets that he had purplish-red bags underneath. “Nobody’s going to tell the bottom scum about possible academic achievements. It’s cruel to tease people with something they’ll never have.” 

“Fuck off, Tully,” Teddy snapped. “Don’t you have some porno mag waiting for you?” 

The boy (you supposed his name was Tully) pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and skulked away, and you scoffed under your breath. “Charming,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his back as he left the scene. 

“Jesus, yeah,” Teddy said. “That’s Angus Tully. Biggest asshole here, thinks he’s better than everyone else. God knows why, he’s such a fuckin’ loser. He’s in Hunham’s fourth period too.”  

You furrowed your eyebrows at Angus Tully’s back, and then redirected your attention to Teddy, who was presently snubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his shoe. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” you said softly, and, without another word, departed for your dorm. 

You appreciated that Barton had built a separate dorm for the female students, but, seeing as you were the sole resident of the building, you were irked by it. It was too big and empty, too lifeless and soulless. Certainly, they had built it with future generations in mind, hoping that more girls would eventually enroll and prove the building a necessity, but, for now, you found yourself aching with loneliness. You missed your mom and your sisters, in your small apartment in downtown Boston, just a few blocks from your old high school. You missed hearing Linda Ronstadt records playing from your older sister’s room (the one she shared with your mom), or the ceaseless sound of the air conditioning unit buzzing away in the window of your room (the one you shared with your other older sister). Barton just felt too… Good for you. But, it was as your mother had told you: it was an opportunity that you could not afford to pass up. 

You didn’t have a lot to unpack, and you hung up your clothes as you chewed your lip. For some reason, the interaction outside the chapel was sticking with you. Not Teddy, although he certainly had made himself hard to forget. No, you were thinking about Angus Tully, apparently the head asshole of Assholedom. You would be seeing him tomorrow too, for the first day of classes, in Hunham’s Ancient Civ class. You had never taken a class like that— your old school didn’t even offer the Advanced Placement program, so obnoxiously pretentious classes like that were out of your realm of understanding— and you were almost worried that you would flunk right out. 

You tossed and turned all night, dreading sunrise and morning. Breakfast was served at 7, and classes began at 8, beginning with Precalc for you, then transitioning into Biology. After third period free, you had Ancient Civ, then an hour for lunch, then Home Ec, then your last few hours of the school day were reserved for something that, on the fax paper that you had been given at the front office, was called “Secretarial Studies”. You hated to think what that meant (surely, Barton wasn’t trying to prime you for being a secretary and nothing more), but mostly, it meant that your school day basically ended earlier than for others. 

You awoke early, showered and scrubbed yourself clean (the water pressure in the shower was better than the fourth floor apartment that you used to deal with), and you dressed yourself in what you hoped was becoming of a Barton girl. The dress had initially been purchased as an outfit for special chapel occasions, Christmas and Easter or whatever, but you knew that your regular jeans and wrinkled t-shirt wouldn’t be enough for your new shiny academy. 

Once again, as you entered the cafeteria for breakfast, you felt all eyes on you. You scanned the room for an empty seat (you didn’t fail to spot Angus Tully, sitting at the cornermost table, not conversing with everyone else) and sighed when you saw an open chair right next to Teddy Kountze. He spotted you and waved, and you made your way over. 

“Hey there,” Teddy said. “How was your first night?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged noncommittally. “Kinda quiet, though.” 

“Yeah, nobody else in the whole building,” Teddy sighed. “No roommates or anything; that must be nice.”

“Nah, not really,” you replied. “I got used to my mom and my sisters, and it was just too quiet. Not nearly enough chaos for me.” 

“How many sisters do you have?” A boy across the table from you asked. 

“Two,” you said. “Both older. And my mom lived with us too, so there was always something going on.”

“Shit, for sure,” the boy said. “Are you gonna join any clubs while you’re here? Or sports or something?” 

You didn’t exactly love the way that the boy said that. “While you’re here”. Like you weren’t going to stay at Barton for very long. “I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I’ve never really been a sporty type. I might see if the yearbook needs help or something.” 

“You could join chess club,” the boy laughed, and Teddy (and pretty much everyone else at the table) laughed too. 

“Why? What’s so funny about chess club?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed as he finished laughing. “Except that Tully’s ugly mug is there.” 

“Tully?” you repeated. “Angus?” 

“Do you know him?” a different boy at the table asked. 

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “Just… Heard some stuff about him, that’s all. How he’s apparently a douche.” 

“You’ll see,” Teddy assured you. “In class, try to challenge him on something. See how he reacts, and you’ll get why we all hate him.” 

You wrinkled your nose at the thought, but decided to not let it bother you. You made your way to class, hanging close behind Teddy and not really listening to him as much as you were admiring the school building. It was so… Old. So was your old school, but Barton was beautifully old, whereas Central was just old. Dark, shiny wood everywhere, framed oil paintings of people; it was a feat. You finally separated from Teddy when you reached the classroom for Precalc, and you hesitantly stepped in. A handful of guys were there, sitting on their desks and chatting, and the room fell dead as you stepped inside. You hazarded a small smile, and quickly made your way to the back of the room, your preferred spot in any classroom, but you were stopped in your tracks. 

Angus Tully. He sat in the back corner, close to the window, his tie loose and crooked around his neck. He was looking out the window, but his eyes slid over to you as you approached the desk beside him. 

“Hi,” you said gently. “Can I… Um, can I sit here?” 

Angus shrugged, as if he didn’t care, and you slung your bag across the back of the seat before you settled yourself down. You tapped your fingers on the desktop for a moment, wondering what the next course of action was, and you mumbled out, “I-I heard you were in chess club?” 

“Yeah,” Angus grunted out. “What about it?” 

“Oh, nothing,” you said, anxiously smoothing your skirt on your thigh. “Just, umm… I was wondering if there was, like… If you guys were open to new members.” 

“Probably,” Angus said simply. 

You nodded slowly, waiting for his next words, but they never came. “Right,” you said softly. “Okay.” 

To your disappointment, Angus Tully and you shared every class together, except for your free period and Home Ec. His demeanor never changed a single bit throughout the day, sullen and curt. He didn’t speak during class, didn’t answer questions or even seem as if he was paying attention. It was odd. You were thinking about it as you settled into a desk in the back of the Ancient Civ classroom, and you yourself were hardly paying attention to the teacher, a one Mr. Hunham, until he called your name. “Miss?” he said, and you lifted your cheek out of your hand. “Would you like to introduce yourself?” 

You blinked a few times, your face positively burning hot, and you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you all know my name by now,” you began. “Know that I went to a public school in Boston, got in here on a lottery and a scholarship… I guess there’s not much else to know about me.” 

“Have you ever studied ancient civilizations before, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. He seemed well-meaning, if maybe a little sarcastic. 

“No,” you told him. 

“Any experience with Latin?” Mr. Hunham asked next. 

You deflated. Shit. This was that sorta school? “No,” you said, a little quieter this time. 

“Well, that’s alright,” Mr. Hunham said. “We’ll catch you up to speed. Now, gentlemen— Ah, and lady— let’s open our books to the first chapter.” 

All during class, you felt hot tears pricking at your eyes. You were humiliated. All these words and names that everyone else seemed to know, and you had no fucking clue what any of it meant. It was all Greek to you— Latin, actually, but that didn't matter. As Mr. Hunham was mid-sentence about some sort of war, the bell to end the class sounded throughout the room, and you instantly closed your textbook and began to shove it into your bag. “Read the rest of the section tonight!” Mr. Hunham called over the sounds of your classmates packing up and chattering. “There will be a quiz on Friday!” 

You shouldered your bag and tried to avoid eyes as you skated out of the room, but a voice saying your name held you back. You hoped your eyes weren’t red as you turned to see Angus standing limply in the hallway. He had stayed quiet during Mr. Hunham’s class too, sitting again in the back corner, and you had managed to forget about him as you wallowed in shame. “Yeah?” you asked. 

Angus carefully walked closer to you, and he said, “The library has tutors sometimes. If you need help with Latin.” 

“Oh,” you said softly. “Thanks. I just… Didn’t know people still spoke that.” 

“Not really, it’s a dead language,” Angus said. “But it’s helpful sometimes in classes. A lot of Ivy League schools have Latin courses that are required.” 

“Well, thank God I’m not going to an Ivy League school,” you chuckled mirthlessly. “I’ll be lucky if community college takes me.” 

“You go to Barton, colleges will be fighting for you to go there,” Angus shrugged. 

“But I’m not somebody,” you protested. “I’m not a senator’s kid, my dad isn’t a CEO, like… I just go here.” 

“But the name is good enough for schools to want you,” Angus said. “They want the prestige, that’s all.” 

You thought on it for a moment, and you mumbled, “Thanks, Angus. I’ll, um… See you tomorrow.” 

The whole first week of classes progressed at a snail’s pace. Every day was torturous— all of your classes, except for Ancient Civ, were easy. Home Ec was a complete wash, since you already knew how to sew and cook, and Secretarial Studies was just as you had feared: teaching you to type, mostly, but nevertheless skills needed to do office work. You were a little offended; you were the only student in the class, which was helmed by the front office manager Ms. Crane. Obviously the boys didn’t have to take this class, so what was Barton trying to say? 

Finally, it was Friday night. Your dorm building was quiet again, and, even though they had provided a rec room with a radio and a few bookshelves, there wasn’t too much for you to do. You curled a loose thread from your sweater around your finger as you considered your next move, and you sighed as you grabbed your keys and shuffled into your shoes. 

You pushed your way into the boy’s dorm, and there was a palpable change in energy. The lights seemed brighter, the air thicker, sounds coming from all manner of places. Some doors were open, the residents standing and chatting, and you could distantly hear the sound of a television playing somewhere on the first floor. Much livelier, more lived in; you wished you could have been placed there instead. You followed the sound of the television down the hall, past the chatting boys, and you noticed how conversations paused as you passed by. You despised that. 

The door to the rec room was wide open, and you peeked in nervously. The television was playing some rerun of Gilligan’s Island, and boys were scattered to all corners of the room. Some played pool, some sat on the couches, some stood by the open window and smoked, but everything seemed to stop as you crossed the threshold. You made your way to an empty section of the couch and sat down, grinding your teeth as boys young and old watched you. You sighed, and you said, “What’s going on?”

The boy next to you, some kid that you knew was in your Bio class but didn’t know his name, frowned. “Huh?” he asked.

You jerked your head towards the television. “The show,” you said. “What’s happening?” 

“Oh,” the boy said, and everyone resumed their conversations. “Umm, don’t you have a TV in your dorm?” 

“Just a radio,” you said with a shake of your head. “What episode is this?” 

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he said. 

You bunched your mouth up and sighed again, and you stood up. You could sense the disappointment as you left the rec room, but you couldn’t stand being in there any longer. You knew that being ogled at came with the territory of being the only girl at a boys’ school, but you couldn’t imagine it would have been anything like this. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your jeans and found a few errant coins in there, leftover from some excursion from God knows how long ago, and you started up to the second floor. In your building, there was a bank of phones on the second floor, and it made sense to you that this building would be the same. 

Luckily, you were right. There was just as much business on the second floor as on the first, but the little phone bank was a calm corner. You sighed and examined the phone for a moment, trying to find the slot to put your dime, and you frowned. What the fuck?

“Just dial nine, and then the number you wanna call.” 

You jumped in fright. “Jesus Christ!” you seethed, whipping around to see Angus. He sat in a shadow of the phone bank, a book in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. He looked a little more casual than he did in class, his tie gone and shirt unbuttoned one or two to show the top of his undershirt. Still looked a little Grim Reaper in the face, though. “You scared the shit outta me.” 

Angus huffed a short laugh through his nose. “Thought you saw me,” he said. 

“I did not,” you mumbled. “Where’s the coin slot?” 

“These aren’t payphones,” Angus told you. “Just dial nine for a non-school number, then dial away.” 

You drew in a deep breath and shoved your dime back in your pocket, and you picked up the phone and started to rotate the dial, starting with nine, then going for your family’s apartment number. You felt Angus’s gaze seering on your back, and you cradled the phone to your shoulder as it rang. “Do you mind?” you asked. 

“Do I mind what?” Angus asked. 

“Scram, man,” you sighed. “I’m trying to call my mom, and I don’t want you listening to it.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t have come to a public phone if you wanted a private conversation,” Angus said, and you tilted your head at him in annoyance. “Doesn’t Blackwell have a phone bank?”

“Yeah,” you said. “But I didn’t wanna use it.” 

“So you came here instead,” Angus said. “I think you like the attention.” 

You swallowed thickly, anger tepid but starting to rise. “You don’t know me at all,” you bit at him. 

“Why’d you come to this building to make your call if you knew that every guy would stop to stare at your ass?” Angus asked. “You knew that. You’ve been here a week, you know by now that you attract attention. I think you like it, but you can’t admit it because you have that whole quiet mystery girl thing going on.”

“Fuck off, Tully,” you mumbled. “I’m not here to be some goddamn puzzle for you to solve. And I’m not gonna fuck you if you figure out my backstory, so just go away.”    

“Who said anything about fucking?” Angus asked smugly. 

You glared at him and that stupid crooked smirk on his face. “Stop staring at my ass first and we might get somewhere,” you told him lowly, just in time for the call to pick up. 

“Hello?” your mother said, and you sighed in relief. 

“Mom, thank God,” you laughed lightly. “You took so long to answer, I was worried nobody was there.”

“Oh, no, pumpkin, I’m here,” your mom told you. “I was just in the shower.”

“Is Rachel not home?” you asked. “Or Anna?” 

“Rach is at work,” your mom told you. “She picked up extra hours at Neiman Marcus. She thinks they might promote her to manager at the end of the year.”

“Oh, wow,” you mumbled. “Good for her. And Anna?” 

“Started taking night classes,” your mom said. “She started on Monday too.” 

“Cool,” you chuckled. “What’re you doing tonight? I think ABC is showing some sort of movie—”

“I’m going on a date,” your mom said, and your mouth went dry. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like… With a guy?” 

“Yes,” your mom said carefully. “He’s nice, I met him at work. He’s taking me to a movie and dinner.” 

“That’s…” you started. “Cool, Mom. Good for you.”

“What about you?” your mom asked. “Surrounded by all those boys, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye.” 

You sighed. Your lip trembled, and you closed your eyes. You were acutely aware that Angus was still sat behind you, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his book turn in a few minutes meant that he was absolutely listening to your phone call, the little shit. “No, not really,” you said. “Everyone here is either too rich, too smart, or too… Asshole-ish. Some are even all three.” You made a point to turn your head towards Angus, and you heard his little huffing laugh before you turned back to the phone. 

“Oh, well,” your mom said. “Maybe you’ll find someone. How are classes?” 

“Fine, I guess,” you said. “I’m taking a class about ancient civilizations, and apparently I missed the class where they teach Latin, so I’m sorta lost. And Home Ec sucks because I already know how to do all that. And they’re making me take something about how to be a secretary, and that’s so infuriatingly sexist that it makes me angry.”

“It’s a bunch of men, in charge of a bunch of boys,” your mom sighed. “They’re trying their best to adapt to you.” 

“I can’t even take gym class because they don’t have a place for me to change clothes,” you lamented. “Not that I wanna take gym anyway, but you see why I’m upset!” 

“I know, pumpkin, it’s okay,” your mom said. 

“Why would they go coed if they can’t even integrate girls in properly?” you sighed. “I wish I had just stayed home and gone to Central. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” 

“You’ll be alright, you’re still just adjusting,” your mom assured you. “But… If, by Christmas, you still don’t feel like you belong there, I’ll pull you out and you can go back to Central. But I have to know by Thanksgiving, so I can start the paperwork in time for spring semester”

“Sure,” you said. “That sounds good to me.” 

“Alright, baby,” your mom said. “Richard will be here any minute, and I have to finish getting ready. I’ll be at work until 4 tomorrow, but call any time after, okay? I love you so much.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled, and you held the plastic phone by your face as you listened to your mother hang up and the dial tone drone. After a moment, you hung the phone back up on the hook, and you readied yourself for Angus’s petty insults as you turned to leave the phone bank. But they never came. You eyed him, sitting there on the wooden bench, his dark eyes focused on yours, and you snapped, “What?” 

“Nothing,” Angus said lightly, sliding back into the darkened corner and picking up his book. “Nothing at all.” 

That was your weekly exercise. Week in and week out, all you did was classes. You wanted to avoid as many interactions with the others as possible, so you stayed quiet during class, kept to yourself, didn’t accept invites to parties or football games or to sit at lunch tables. You took to having lunch with Ms. Crane in the front office, and she seemed to commiserate with you about all the boys. “Some of these kids are real stinkers,” she told you. “But they’re teenage boys. I think it’s a law that they have to be.”

Your saving grace was the deal you had made with your mom. If you could just wait until Christmas break, you could go back to your old school, to your old friends, and you could forget about the hell that was Barton. You kept your grades up, so that Central could see that you hadn’t turned into some kind of slacker, and you consistently got B’s and A’s in your classes. Except for Ancient Civ. 

The exam booklet slapped down on your desk, a red F blazoned across the front. You sighed and started to thumb through it, trying to figure out where you went wrong as the other boys also realized their grades were low, and your heart sank when you saw all of the multiple choice questions without a flaw. So it was your essay question that led you astray. On the very last page of the booklet, you found your essay, handwritten yesterday on something about ancient philosophers, and a red note in Mr. Hunham’s handwriting. See me after class. 

You could hardly pay attention to the conversation between Teddy and Mr. Hunham. Your mind was racing, wondering what he wanted to talk to you about. You should have gotten a perfect score, but something held that back. Surely he didn’t think you had cheated? Or copied someone else’s work? You thought that you and Mr. Hunham got along (as well as any student can get along with their strict, hardass teacher) and your heart sank at the thought that you had definitely somehow disappointed him. 

“... Offer a makeup exam” got your head out of the clouds, and you focused on Mr. Hunham at his podium. “You’ll all get a second run at this after break.” The class muttered and mumbled, only to be cut through by Mr. Hunham’s next words: “Of course, it will not be the same exam. You will now be responsible for new material as well. Your grade will be an average of the two.” 

As Mr. Hunham instructed the class to open their books to a new chapter, you were shocked, along with everyone else, when Angus spoke. “No offense, sir,” he began, and you sucked in a breath. You had learned that, whenever any of the boys at Barton didn’t intend offense, that offense was certainly on its way. “But is this really the best time to be starting a new chapter? I mean, we all appreciate the, uh, makeup exam gesture… But our families are here.” 

You rolled your eyes. Speak for yourself, Tully. Your mom had to work that day, as did both of your sisters, and you gotten instruction to take a Greyhound into Boston and someone would meet you at the bus station to bring you home. It wasn’t exactly the best plan, but it was what worked. Your mom had arranged with Barton to let you back on campus during break to empty your dorm room, and you sighed a thing of relief. Almost done. You were so close to leaving Barton in your dust and washing your hands of the entire school. 

“Most teachers have already canceled class,” Angus continued. “We have chapel in forty minutes, then we’re out of here. I mean, our heads are elsewhere.” 

“And where exactly is your head, Mr. Tully?” Mr. Hunham asked, and Angus shrugged. 

“Uh, I don’t know. St. Kitts.” 

Jesus. Of course Angus Tully was going to fuckin’ St. Kitts for Christmas. You would be lucky if your family could afford to have the heat turned on for Christmas. 

Your annoyance turned to dire anger when Mr. Hunham decided to scrap the idea of a makeup exam and dismissed the class without another word. You hurried to shove your exam booklet in your bag, and you glared at Angus as you edged out of your row. “Thanks a lot, dick,” you mumbled, then left the room, not even waiting to see Angus’s response. Your heart raced as you tailed Mr. Hunham, and you finally called his name as he approached the door to his private office. 

“Ah, Miss,” Mr. Hunham chuckled. “Yes, yes, let’s sit down and discuss your exam.” 

“I-I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said hurriedly as he unlocked the office door. “I didn’t cheat or plagiarize, you didn’t even mark off any points. I don’t understand why I failed.” 

Mr. Hunham said nothing as he led you into his office, and you wrinkled your nose. God, it smelled bad in there. Nevertheless, you sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk, and you waited with bated breath as he sat down in his seat. He examined you for a moment, for long enough for you to start to feel weird under his walleyed gaze, and, finally, he said, “In actuality, Miss, you didn’t fail. You got the highest score in the class.” 

“B-But I got an F…” you protested. “Angus Tully got a B!”

“I wrote an F on your paper, but you actually got a 98,” Mr. Hunham told you. “Near-perfect score, I only took off in your essay question for misspelling ‘Periclean’.” 

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Then, why’d you write an F on my paper?” 

“Because I was disappointed in you,” Mr. Hunham said. You felt sick. Your skin was hot and your stomach roiled, and hot tears pricked at your eyes. “I heard from Ms. Crane that you were leaving Barton.” 

You nodded silently. 

“And why is that?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

You sighed. “I miss my old school,” you admitted with a thick throat. “My old friends. Nobody likes me here, and I… Just think I’d be better off back home. I’m not a Barton person.” 

“What is a Barton person to you, Miss?” Mr. Hunham asked. His hands were clasped at his chin, his bifocals in his fist. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. 

“Someone not me,” you said. “Rich… Smart… Important. All those guys are gonna go to good colleges, and I’m gonna be stuck waiting tables my whole life.”

“You are smart, Miss,” Mr. Hunham told you. “You passed all your classes with flying colors, you made Latin look like a piece of cake. If you wanted to, you could go to any college in the country. Or the world!”

“I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for that stupid lottery,” you mumbled. “I don’t belong here, sir, we both know that.” 

Mr. Hunham fixed his mouth in a thin line and sighed, and he said, “Of course. Well, I do hate to see you go. Your essay on the siege of Troy was… Very good.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “Umm, have a nice Christmas, I guess… See you around.” 

Chapel that day felt exactly the opposite to your first chapel at Barton. The dread that had filled the air at the beginning of the semester had now changed to an excitement about going back home, and, even though you still felt like everybody was staring at you, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were done. You had made it. After you moved during break, you’d never have to lay an eye on Barton or any of those boys ever again. You had to admit that you were going to miss Ms. Crane, and maybe even Mr. Hunham too, but the positives far outweighed the negatives. 

After chapel let out, you hurried back to Blackwell Hall and grabbed your suitcase and changed out of your nice dress, and you made your way to the front of campus, where a Greyhound bus sat, waiting to take kids into the city. You stepped on board, taking a seat towards the back of the bus, and you looked out the window at one last gaze at Barton Academy. Although, you couldn’t admire the architecture or the pretty way the snow glistened in the midday sun. No, you could only see the tall, lanky, dark-haired kid standing on the steps of the chapel, waiting for someone. 

Even though you despised Angus Tully and didn’t really care if he lived or died, it was a sad sight to see him waiting like that. He looked so dismayed and forlorn, his suitcase at his feet, his hands in the pockets of his winter jacket. Maybe in another world, you and Angus could have been friends. Your mind wandered, thinking of meeting Angus somewhere else— your mind conjured the image of a bookstore, reaching for the same book and having a little back and forth on who should have it, before Angus acquiesced, but not before writing his phone number in the book. 

The rumble of the bus nearly lulled you asleep on the two and a half hour drive to Boston, and you roused yourself as the bus pulled into the station. Gathering your things, you departed, along with a handful of other Barton boys. They quickly found their families that were waiting on them, and you wandered through the station. Your mother hadn’t indicated who would be picking you up, or where in the station to meet them, and you made your way to a payphone. You were sure she was at work, but you wondered if you could call the restaurant and ask for her. Before you could put your dime in the phone, though, you heard your name being called, and you looked to see an older man smiling at you from across the room. 

Fear flashed hot in your face, but you kept your composure as the man approached you. “Hey, you look just like how your mom described you,” he laughed. “I’m Rich.” 

“Who?” you asked. 

“Rich,” he repeated. “I’ve been seeing your mother for a few months. She’s working the afternoon shift, and your sisters are both busy, so your mom asked me to get you.” 

“Oh,” you nodded. “Right, yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“You seem tired,” Rich told you. “Long day?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” you chuckled. “I’m just glad to be done with Barton, that place can go to hell.” 

“I thought Barton was a boys’ school,” Rich mumbled. 

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. “But whatever, that’s in my rearview now.” 

“Alright,” Rich said. He seemed confused, but he took up your suitcase for you. “We already put fresh sheets on the pullout, so when we get back, you can take a nap if you want—”

“The pullout?” you repeated. “Am I not sleeping in my room?” 

Rich winced. “Ah, well,” he began. “You see, my daughter is sleeping there, and—”

“Your—” you started. “Why is she in my room?” 

“The bed was vacant,” Rich shrugged. “She’s lived there for a few months now.”

“And why is your daughter living with my mom?” you asked. “Do you… Did you move in?” 

“Well, when your mother and I got married, we figured it was the logical thing to do.” 

Your heart nearly stopped. Married. Your mother had gotten married, and hadn’t told you a single thing about it. No wedding invite, no pictures, not even a ‘hey, Rich and I are getting hitched!’ You felt sick and lightheaded, and you tried to take a steadying breath. It just sounded all shaky and unsure, though, and it made you feel even worse. “I, uh…” you began. “I…” 

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” Rich asked, and the camel’s back broke. Nobody can call you that but your mom. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you asked. “Rolling in here, doing all this bullshit, and for what? Are you trying to prove something? Win an award or what? Let’s see how quickly we can marry the single mom, that’ll go down great with her three adult children!” 

“Rachel and Anna said they were okay with it,” Rich said. 

“But you didn’t ask me!” you cried. “God, this is exactly what she wanted, huh, throw me in a boarding school and forget all about me? Fuck this, I don’t need this.” You snatched your bag from Rich and turned on your heel quickly, and you didn’t even hesitate when Rich called “Where are you going?” 

“Anywhere but here!” 

You begged and pleaded with the Greyhound driver to take you back to Barton. He said that he had to stick to a schedule and was really sorry, but he changed his tune when you dug into your bag and grabbed your pocketbook, pulling out a few 20s. You didn’t have a lot of money in the first place, and watching those bills go in his pocket hurt, but, in the end, you got back to Barton just as the sun was starting to set. You knew that whoever was staying over break would be shocked to see you (maybe even elated, depending on who it was), but you didn‘t care about reactions. You just didn’t want to think at that moment. 

You followed the low din of boyish muttering to the cafeteria, and you steeled your nerves for entering. You could discern only two voices, maybe a third if you listened through the thick door hard enough, and you quickly pushed on the metal handle in the middle of the door to slam the door open. 

Heads whipped towards you. You didn’t recognize a lot of them— some younger kids, and a guy that was on the football team and was a senior— and your heart sank into your stomach when you saw Teddy Kountze sitting at the dinner table. So you would be spending Christmas break with Teddy. Great. 

But the bad feeling got worse when you saw who was sitting one seat down from Teddy. Angus fucking Tully. He stared at you with no joy or humor in his eyes, and you huffed out a breath. 

“Miss?” Your gaze went to the head of the table, and a little bit of relief washed over you as you saw the face of Mr. Hunham. Was he supervising the holdovers? “What’re you…?” 

“Got room for one more?” you mumbled, approaching the table and securing the seat between Teddy and Angus. You instantly reached for the serving dishes, wanting anything to occupy your shaking hands, and you slowed to a stop as you noticed the whole table staring at you; even Angus wasn’t trying to hide it, his black eyes as big as dinner plates. “What?” you barked, and the energy resumed at the table in a snap. 

Dinner was finished soon after, and Mr. Hunham pulled you into the hall as the boys were cleaning up. “I thought you were going home to Boston for the holiday?” he asked gently. 

“I can’t…” you started. “It seems like I don’t even have a place in my own family.” 

“What do you mean?” Mr. Hunham asked. 

“My mom got married without telling me,” you told him. “And the guy and his daughter moved into our apartment, which could barely fit me and my mom and sisters in the first place, and now they’re there, a-and she’s in my room! That fucking bitch is in my room, and I-I—” 

“Easy, easy,” Mr. Hunham said, putting his hand out to placate you. “Calm down. Listen, I understand that this is hard, it’s awful, but resorting to that is not what’s going to help you. We’ll find a place here for you tonight, and tomorrow we can call your mother and try to get this straightened out.” 

“Can I not go to my dorm?” you asked. 

“The school shut off heating and plumbing everywhere except the main building,” Mr. Hunham explained. “We’re sleeping in the infirmary.” 

“Jesus Christ,” you huffed. You were so angry that you could kick something. “So now I gotta bunk up with them?” 

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Mr. Hunham mumbled. “But it’s just for one night. We can put up a partition, if that would make you more comfortable.” 

“Fuck it, whatever,” you sighed. Your eyes hurt, and a headache was starting to throb at your skull, and you said, “I don’t care.” 

The boys were split into two rooms, the youngers (and Angus) in one, and Teddy and Jason in the other. The only other empty bed was in Teddy and Jason’s room, and you were quick to settle in and start off for the bathroom. Just as you were leaving, though, a beanpole in a white shirt and flannel pajama pants stopped you in the doorway. 

“Hey,” Angus said curtly. “Where’re you going?” 

“Shower,” you told him. “Brush my teeth, stuff like that.” 

“Why did you come back?” Angus asked. “A little birdy told me that you were quitting Barton.” 

“I…” you started. You wanted to tell him everything, but you were worried about the leverage he’d have if he knew. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“Nah, I think it is,” Angus said with narrowed eyes. “We know why everybody is holding over. His parents are on a mission trip, his family is in Korea, Kountze The Cunt’s having his house remodeled, and Jason’s dad is waiting for him to cut his hair. Why’re you here?”

“Why’re you here, Angus?” you asked. “I thought you were going to St. Barts or St. Kitts or something.” 

“Obviously not,” Angus said quickly. 

“Then, I’m obviously not quitting Barton,” you said, and instantly regretted it. “I might be… Haven’t decided yet.” 

“What, don’t you like it here?” Angus asked. “Isn’t it a glorious beacon of education and brotherhood—” He stopped himself, dramatically clenching his fist in front of his face. “Oh, that’s right. Brotherhood.” 

“Shut up,” you huffed. 

“C’mon, man, leave her alone,” you heard Jason start from the room behind you, but Angus either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

“You left, and then came back,” Angus said. “What’s wrong? Mommy decided she didn’t want you anymore?” 

You couldn’t help yourself from letting your tears spill over your lashes, and you clenched your teeth. Angus held your eye contact for longer than you thought he would, and he only averted his eyes when your tears gathered at the corner of your mouth. You drew in a shaking breath, aware that everybody was staring at you, watching you cry, and you sniffled and left the room without another word. The showers were empty, and you jerked the handle to start the water, then locked the door to the room. 

Your tears flowed freely then, and you sat on the tile floor and sobbed into your hands. You hoped that Angus could hear you crying from down the hall, and you hoped that he felt bad about his words. Knowing him, though, he had forgotten about you as soon as you left his eyeline. 

By the time you finished your crying and your shower, the lights were off in both the rooms, a soft snoring coming from Teddy and Jason’s (and your) room. Your pajamas didn’t feel like they were enough for the cold in the infirmary, and you edged by the snoring Teddy in his bed to get to yours. The sheets were crinkly and dry and rough, and you bundled the wool blanket up to your chin as you tried to sleep. 

That was destroyed, though, when you heard a “Psst!” come from the doorway. 

You sighed. “Fuck off, Angus,” you mumbled sleepily. 

“Just— Can I—?” Angus huffed. “I’m trying to apologize to you.” 

“I don’t want your fuckin’ apology,” you said. “Just leave me alone.” 

“I shouldn’t have said that to you,” Angus whispered. “I was… Out of line. Or projecting or something, I don’t know. My mom and stepdad went to St. Kitts, but uninvited me so they could celebrate their honeymoon. I guess I’m just familiar with how it feels to not be wanted.” 

You sighed and rolled over to face the doorway, and you settled yourself up on your elbows. “Can you just…” you started. “Think before you speak? I know it doesn’t really seem to matter to you, but sometimes, words hurt. Like, really hurt.” 

“I know,” Angus mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to work on not being a huge asshole,” you told him. “You know, nobody here likes you. They all call you names and shit.” 

“I know,” Angus said. “I don’t care. But you’ve gotta try to not be so judgmental. I think you write off everyone here because we’re from different tax brackets. Some of us don’t have it easy.” 

You pressed your lips together. “Fair enough,” you said finally. “I’ll, um… Keep that in mind.” 

“Alright,” Angus said. “Good night, then.”

“‘Night,” you said, and you watched Angus stalk out of the doorway and back to his room. You sat for a few moments more, thinking about how easily Angus had read your thoughts, and you wondered if the other boys could see right through you as easily. You were almost humiliated all over again at the thought that everyone could read you like that, but it didn’t matter. When the morning came, you’d call your mother and work out whatever the problem was, and you would be home in Boston by the next night. 

It didn’t work out that way. You called your mother twice in the morning; the first time, she didn’t pick up the phone, and the second, she would hardly talk to you. “Mom, I just wanna know what happened,” you pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I-I would’ve been supportive!”

“Would you?” your mother asked. 

“Yes!” you sighed. “I wouldn’t have been happy, but I would’ve accepted it if you were happy!” 

“Then, why can’t you accept it now?” she asked. 

“Because you didn’t tell me!” you replied. “You didn’t ask me how I felt about it, if I wanted it to happen, if I even like the guy—  I hadn’t even met him once before you did it!” You paused, chewing your lip, and you said, “Mom. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?” 

“No, pumpkin, I’m not,” she sighed, but you could tell she was nearing her wit’s end. 

“Is that why you hurried to marry him?” you asked. “I-I’m telling you, I don’t care that you got married, I’m just upset because you didn’t tell me!” 

“Okay, stop,” your mom said firmly. “I thought you’d be happy for me, baby.” 

Anger flared in your stomach. “Dad hasn’t even been gone for a full year yet,” you mumbled. “And you’re already replacing him.” 

“We all mourn differently, pumpkin,” she said. “I’m sorry that you can’t see that Rich makes me happy. I... I don’t feel lonely with him.”

“Well,” you sighed. “If this is how you mourn Dad, I don’t think I wanna come home. I think I’ll stay at Barton.” 

“Where are you gonna go after the holiday ends?” your mom asked. 

“Staying here,” you said plainly. “I can personally go up to Central and withdraw my paperwork over break. If you want to erase me and my father from your life so bad, then you’ve got your fuckin’ wish.” You slammed the phone back on the receiver with shaking hands, and you turned to leave the front office, only to run straight into— 

“Fuck off, Angus,” you sniffled, side-stepping him and starting down the hall, back to the infirmary. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Angus said quickly, snatching your wrist in his hand and tugging you back. “What happened? Are you going home?”

“No,” you sighed. “I’m staying here. I never wanna see any of them again.” 

“You said something about your dad…” Angus mumbled. “Is that true? Your dad’s dead?” 

You wiped at your eyes, and your chest went hot. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled. 

Angus sighed, and, for once, he did something nice for you. He pulled you into an embrace, not too tight but not so loose that it felt like he didn’t care, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “My dad’s dead too,” Angus whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I sorta get it.” 

You sniffled again, and you finally let your arms wrap around Angus’s thin body. You sat in silence for a moment, hugging each other, and you only parted when you heard a small scuttle from down the hall, near the infirmary door. Your head turned to see the youngest kid, Alex, standing, watching you two, and you stepped away from Angus and wiped your face. “Guess I’m staying,” you mumbled. 

“Guess so,” Angus echoed. 

The days were monotonous. Hunham would wake you up when the sun rose with a declaration of “It’s daylight in the swamp!”, and you would go through the routine of studying, then exercise, then more studying, then a little bit of free time. In the absence of gym class for months, the exercising was a little difficult, and you were left exhausted and panting every time, and you felt awkward with the guys around. However, after that brief moment with Angus, he had started to be… Better. He was still a dick most times, but he would do little things for you now; pass you the lunch dishes instead of sliding them in your direction, offer to sharpen your pencil during study time. It seemed that finding a similarity had broken his shell for you a bit, and you appreciated it. 

You had taken to helping the cook with meals. Mary Lamb was a good woman that you had minimally interacted with (she had come and given a lesson in Home Ec about cooking, which really nobody paid attention to, but you had made a point to), and you felt a special kinship with her because of her Curtis. She was the only one you told the truth about your father to, and you knew that Mary wouldn’t say anything to the others about it. She seemed as if she appreciated the help in the kitchen, especially from someone who was competent there like you were. You liked talking to Mary, hearing her stories and letting her hear yours. 

Just as you were starting to think that maybe break wouldn’t be all that terrible, less than a week into it, things changed. You shivered in the cold library, despite your sweater, and you tried to focus on the textbook in front of you, but it was nearly impossible. Angus was sitting next to you, and, every so often, his hand would inch out and he would doodle a little figure in the corner of your notebook. You rolled your eyes jokingly at him, trying not to laugh so Hunham wouldn’t fuss at you, and you shifted in your seat a bit to reach Angus’s notebook. You began to crudely sketch him, big dark eyes and messy hair, and he stifled a snort. Mean, he wrote underneath your sketch. 

Accurate, you countered. 

Before either of you could write anything else, there came an odd sound from outside. It was quiet at first, but it grew louder and louder, and you looked upwards, as if the ceiling of the library would allow for any sort of view of what the noise was. It was a loud chopping noise, growing ever louder and louder, drawing the attention of all of you, and even Hunham closed his book and said “What the hell is that?” 

But, from across the table, a smile grew on Jason’s face, a knowing grin, and, all at once, everybody stood from their seats and went to the window. You couldn’t see as well as the others, being shorter than everyone else, but Angus put a gentle hand on your side and pushed you in front of him, letting you get closer to the window. His hand, positioned just above your hip on your torso, made a shiver run down your spine, but you attributed it to the sight of a goddamn helicopter buzzing overhead, lowering itself onto the snowy, abandoned football field. “I knew it!” Jason exclaimed. “He finally caved, the big softie!” 

“What the fuck is that?” you asked quickly. 

“Jason’s dad owns a helicopter,” Angus explained under his breath as Jason pushed away from the window with excitement. 

“Any of you guys like to ski?” Jason called as he left the library, and the younger boys gasped with excitement. You all caught onto the idea at the same time, and the boys filed out, following Jason, but you stayed still at the window, watching the helicopter’s blades slow to a stop. 

“Miss?” Hunham asked, and you closed your eyes. “Aren’t you going with them?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem less hurt than you actually were. “I can’t,” you said. “I don’t have any skiing gear or whatever, I’ve never even done it before… And anyway, I’m not about to call my mom to ask for permission to do that.” 

You sat in the hallway outside the office as Hunham called all of the boys’ parents, being granted permission for the excursion, listening as each boy reacted with glee. It felt like a sick joke; of course you were left all alone again. Before you could ruminate on it for too long, the beanpole came and sat himself next to you, quiet as he scratched absently at his chin. 

“Want me to get you anything from up there?” Angus asked. “Fridge magnet or postcard or…?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you managed with a heavy, thick throat. “Thanks, though.” 

Angus sighed, his eyebrows furrowing together as his jaw tightened, and he tilted his head towards you. His dark eyes looked soft, kinder than you had ever seen from him or thought was capable, and he said, “Sorry.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. Your tears spilled and you clawed your fingernails into your palm, trying to stop from sobbing and heaving, and Angus moved closer to you, until his hip touched yours. He slung a skinny arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body, his hand gently pressing into your head and ushering you to hide in his neck. He shushed you, whispering “If Hunham sees you crying, he’ll think I did it”, which did nothing other than make you laugh a little and sniffle hard. 

You quickly parted from Angus’s warmth, wiping your eyes with your hand and seeing your mascara smear on the back of your hand. “Gonna go to the bathroom…” you mumbled, and Angus nodded, keeping his seat as you stood up and hurried down the hall. The women’s bathroom next to the office was hardly used, only ever you, Ms. Crane, and the lone visitor using it, and you clutched the porcelain sink as you gasped for breath. Jesus Christ. Would anything ever go your way? Being stuck at Barton over the holidays with the other boys sucked, sure, but now you were all alone with Hunham and Mary. Alone again. You wondered if you’d always be alone. 

You ripped off a paper towel and dabbed at your eyes, trying to fix your makeup, and you pressed cold water to your face to try to calm yourself down. Fuck everything about this. It was unfair. Maybe Hunham would take it easy on you, loosen the reins a little. You trashed the paper towels and adjusted your sweater, trying to seem put-together, and you stepped out of the bathroom to see Hunham and Angus standing outside the office, embroiled in an intense conversation. “... Just one more time, please,” you heard Angus say, and Hunham put his hand up. 

“There’s no point,” Hunham said. “The front desk says they’re not answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”

You started closer, and you watched Angus’s face fall, his eyes narrowing. He mumbled something under his breath, and Hunham harrumphed. “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so,” he said. “I could’ve been spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.” 

“Angus?” you said, and he slid his eyes over to you. “Are you… What’s happening?” 

Angus shot Hunham a deathly look, and he side-stepped your teacher, brushing past you, his arm knocking your shoulder. You locked eyes with Hunham, then quickly turned and started off after Angus. His long legs had carried him down the hall quicker than you were capable of, and you sped up a bit. “Angus!” you called for him, and you finally came up on him at the door to the infirmary, taking his arm in your hand. “What’s going on?” 

“I’m staying here,” he said bitingly. “Mom and Stanley aren’t answering their phone.” 

On some level, you were glad Angus was staying. At least it wouldn’t be just you there. And you were glad it was Angus, as opposed to Teddy or someone else. “Oh,” you managed. “Well, umm…” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Angus said flatly. He leaned up against the doorway to the infirmary, listening to the other boys packing up, and he added, “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t say anything.” 

You sighed, flicking your eyebrows. “Got it,” you mumbled. Your eyes lifted from the floor to see Ye-Joon, bag in hand, and he softly bid Angus a happy holidays, giving you a curt smile as he edged out of the infirmary. Jason lightly touched Angus’s arm as he told him to take care, doing the same to you before he departed, and you made eye contact with Teddy as he shouldered his bag. He didn’t have his sights set on you, though; he spoke to Angus. 

“I guess that just leaves you and the chick, huh?” Teddy asked. “Be sure to do all your homework— and no funny stuff while we’re gone.” 

If you could have swung a punch at Teddy, you would have. All the boys at Barton were the exact fucking same— Secretarial Studies, sex jokes, it was never-ending and never-changing. You watched Angus’s neck go flushed, and Teddy added, “Oh, almost forgot! I found that picture you were looking for.” Quickly, he stuck a square Polaroid in Angus’s shirt pocket, and a smile crossed Teddy’s face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Tully. You too, Miss. See you after break.” He winked at you, making your skin crawl, and he departed the room with a chuckle as Angus snatched the picture from his pocket. From your vantage point, you couldn’t see what it was, only the back that read HAPPY HOLIDAYS, but Angus’s mouth screwed up at it, and he flicked it down onto the ground. Your eyes followed it, and you saw a portrait of a family, a mom and dad and a boy, and you recognized the dark eyes and sunken features of the boy. But, in a blank space of the picture, in Teddy’s handwriting, an arrow pointed to the boy and declared “Fuckwad”. 

The cold was biting, even through your coat, as you stood on the football field and watched the boys load into the Smith’s helicopter. Your hands were deep in your pockets as you stared into space, wondering if it could get any worse. As the helicopter took off, the wind blew your hair back, and you watched as it rose, up, up, and away. A heavy energy fell over you three, and your teacher let out a heavy sigh. “Well, let’s make the best of it,” Hunham said, flat but trying to put fake life into his words. The look in Angus’s eyes was harsh enough to kill, and Hunham averted his gaze from him over to you, his two little wards, the holdovers. “Shall we?”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #the holdovers

[hibiscuswrites]

can u do a headcanon for rio x doctor!reader? like maybe they meet bc Beth knows her and she calls her in when rio drops off that injured guy in her daughter's bed (season 1)? and then rio being rio is like oooo she might make a good mob doctor

He just watches you work at first

He's mainly keeping an eye on you to make sure you don't do anything stupid or run off

Beth had called you in a panic saying that she needed your help and you had came

But that didn't mean he could trust you

At least not yet

But once he sees that you're not going to make a run for it or try to call the cops

That you're actually focused on making sure that you can help

He's simply admiring after that

Watching how steady your hands are

How particular and precise your movements can be

How you take care to not hurt the guy more than needed

Checking in on him periodically

You're chill and only focused on helping

Waving Beth off when she keeps hovering over you and trying to wedge herself between you and Rio's prying eyes

Not in a jealous way, but more protective

Not wanting him to drag you into his life like she was

And Rio only smirks because he knows he's going to recruit you anyway

And recruit he does once you've finished up

"OK, keep those bandages on and change them daily and as needed. No soaking in water and try not to drink. Eat a lot of protein to help with the healing process."

The man nods and hobbles off with Mick's help and Beth is quick to motion for Rio to leave

"OK. We did what you asked. You can go now."

It only makes Rio chuckle and he answers her back without even taking his eyes off of you as you stand there with your bag of supplies

"Actually, she looks a little tired. So am I. Why don't you make us a cup of coffee real quick Elizabeth."

She sputters, not wanting to leave you alone, but you throw a soft smile at her and nod

"That'd be good."

She leaves begrudgingly, now only you and Rio in the bedroom and you follow her out, speaking carefully to Rio

"Why don't we sit out here."

He obliges you and follows you out to the living room, sitting down beside you with a smile

"That's some good work you did in there, Doc."

You smile tightly with a nod, eyes on him

"Thank you. Glad I could help."

You don't offer anymore, so Rio keeps going

"It'd be good to have someone like you around, you know? Someone smart and helpful. Someone whose only focus is helping and healing. It'd be very useful."

And you only nod, Rio's pearly whites on display as he leans forward towards you

Not menacingly, but with genuine interest

"Could you maybe be that person, beautiful?"

General taglist

 @titty-teetee   @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

Rio taglist

@belle82devart @thickemadame @aria725 @glimmerglittergirl @tashawar @myaloveee @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @smoooore @woahitslucyylu @browngirldominion @hopefuloperaangelnerd @lillict @namjoonwatcheshentai @sesamepancakes @thelimited-unlimited @myeverythingisyourstruly @pinky-kitty @nintendhoe8 @laylasbunbunny@lovesanimals0000 

#headcannons #rio good girls #nbc good girls #rio x reader #manny montana

[arysbruv]

Runaway

You were a relatively newer student. You normally kept to yourself but you always dreamt of being friends with the main trio, especially with the infamous Suguru Geto. Yet, he always seemed to hate you, even when you openly showed you felt the opposite.

pairings: suguru geto x reader

warnings and whatnots : I was gonna end it here but i wanted some conflict hehe. So probably part 6 will be the end. Pride and prejudice mentions. Angst. I apologise in advance. Sorry for short chapter and late release have been busy 😔😔🙏🙏. Not proofread.

chapter 1 : are we still friends? chapter 2 : can we be friends? chapter 3 : sorry, not sorry chapter 4 : green looks good on you. chapter 5: [currently reading] chapter 6: burn.

You scanned the books on the shelf, you index finger nudging the edges.

The notifications on your phone going crazy, irritating you. You click your tongue as you look at the messages in the groupchat.

Gojo Hate Group ⁉️⁉️

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: Me and shoko going out coz books r for nerds and ITS BORING

Shoko 🚬: Have fun lovebirds

Suguru 💔: wtf? Where are you both going?

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS SHOKO HURRY UP BEFORE HE CATCHES US

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: OMG I CAN SEE SUGURU HE LOOKS PISSED

Satoru 🧑🏻‍🦳: SHOKO

Suguru 💔: Where the hell are you.

Shoko🚬: LMAO

You click your tongue, peering out the store window to see Satoru and Shoko leave the store in a hurry. Shoko gives you a sly smile, a small thumbs up while mouthing a small ‘you can do it.’

Note to self: kill Satoru and Shoko when you go back.

“They abandoned us.” A sudden voice says from behind you. You turn quickly, almost losing your balance on the smooth wooden floor.

A hand grabs your waist, stabilising you ensuring that you didn’t fall and make a mess on the floor.

Your eyes widen as you look at Suguru who was standing in front of you. He stared back, his eyebrows slightly lifted up in shock. Why was he shock? Your face heats up as his hand retracts.

A pang of sadness hits you as you felt his hand leave you, yet the way his fingers grazed your skin drove you mad. What was he doing?

“Yeah… they did.” You turn away from him, swallowing your saliva as you feel him come closer to you. This was insane. What was he doing? Didn’t he hate you? Was Shoko right?

“What are you buying?” He asks, looking at the book in your hand. He scoffs as he looks at it.

You eye him down hearing his scoff. “I’ll let you know Pride and Prejudice is an amazing book.”

“I know, I’ve read it.”

You look at him curiously as his eyes move from the book to you.

“You remind me of Elizabeth. Hot-headed and always thinks you’re right. Oh and your quips, you think your so smart huh?” Suguru says, hands in his pockets as he stares you down. What was he saying? Satoru told him to be nice and confess his ever so obvious ‘feelings’ for you but he didn’t understand. What feelings were Satoru talking about? The feeling of his stomach turning every time he saw you? How he craved to be near you, to see what you were doing. To see you walk around in your own world?

“Oh? You remind me of Darcy, prideful, tact and socially inept.” You say, finger pressing on his chest.

He laughs.

“You wish I was the Darcy to your Elizabeth.” I wish it too.

You huff, crossing your arms. It drove him crazy how you looked. Your clothes matching his. He stares at you, observing the way your hair parted and how your lips were sewed tightly into a frown. It was cute.

To the untrained eye, you would’ve looked like a couple in a small argument. In your eyes, you wished he was your boyfriend and having a small argument. Yet, you knew it was probably never happening.

“Whatever…” You blow him off, trudging off to the counter to pay for your book, Suguru following closely behind you.

“Just this please.” You say to the lady at the counter, old in age. She smiles at you, her wrinkles becoming more prominent. She takes the book, smiling as she looks at you and Suguru who stands behind you, glued to his phone.

“You and your boyfriend are cute, I saw you both squabbling over there and I couldn’t help but remember my late husband. We were just like you, always arguing.”

The woman didn’t take her eyes off the book as she talks, your face turns red as you bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You turn back to see Suguru, a small smile etched on his face as he looks at the old woman. His eyes glance at you. His smile drops before he clears his throat.

“Oh, we’re… we’re not a thing, we’re just…friends.”

Suguru feigns a smile as he talks to the woman. She smiles back.

Friends. Friends. Friends. The word replays in his mind. He wanted to be more than that. He wanted to be more than friends. Why? What was so intriguing about you? You were just some random person! Was he mad? Was he delirious? Had he not felt anyone’s touch for so long he was willing to try it with you? No, if that was true he would’ve gone for Satoru or Shoko. You appealed to him. What was it with you? Did you release a pheromone that attracted him to you? What was he thinking?

“Thank you ma’am.” You smile politely at the woman. She smiles back, sympathy and hope in her eyes. Did she notice your feelings? Seems like everyone noticed except Suguru himself. No, he did notice. He just didn’t want it. That was worse. “Suguru let’s go hunt those idiots down.” You say, punching his shoulder as you walk to the entrance.

You found them in a nearby cafe, by nearby, it was around a 2.5 kilometre walk. Suguru and you talked, smiling. It was the first time you did so in a while. The walk that lasted for roughly 20-30 minutes evolved from tension filled to dumb jokes and quips. Suguru watches as you laugh. He missed this you.

As you saw them through the cafe window, you wave out to them. Shoko smiles at you as she urges you and him to come inside. You nod, going to join them. Yet, a hand stops you before you could make a move.

What was he doing?

“y/n. Can we talk?” Suguru says, his voice low as he pulls you to the side, away from your friends’ sight.

“What’s up?” You scratch your skin, eyes bouncing off the walls before finally landing on his’. His’ that were already staring into yours. You gulp.

“I like you.”

huh?

“I like you and it’s stupid and annoying but you’re stuck in my head and i thought it was hate because of how annoying you are and that maybe you’re just an annoying monkey but when Satoru touched you I get tingly and I hate that and…” He rambles on, stopping to look at your face. “Oh my god you’re such an idiot but I goddamn like you?”

You stare at his wide eye, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. He stares back, awaiting an answer. Without a thought, you pull back your hand from his wrist.

“I’m sorry Suguru…”

You ran, ran off to wherever it was as long as he couldn’t find you. Why were you running? You liked him back? Yet, your feet carried you away. Your feelings were about to burst and you didn’t know what to do about it.

‘Run’. Your mind told you.

‘I’ll run.’ Your legs whispered back.

It was like you were just a mere bystander to your body’s conversation. You didn’t know what to do.

So you ran, leaving a broken man behind.

#jujutsu geto #geto x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #ieri shoko #geto angst #suguru geto angst #geto x you #suguru x reader

[readychilledwine]

Pet Play

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

If you like total power play exchanges, welcome to the world of Pets.

Pet Play is a type of power exchange, typically a total power exchange, between a dom and sub. Your dom in these situations typically falls into 1 of 4 categories: owner, master, trainer, or alpha-pet. There are a variety of different roles the subs can take, but the most common are puppy play, kitten play, bunny play, or horse play, and each type of pet play tends to lead to different forms kink mix ins, how play is handled, and what role the dom falls into.

In pet play, a variety of kinks can be mixed in, such as bondage, degradation/humiliation, punishment, praise, and reward. It also isn't uncommon to see food play, breath play, and collar and leashing (a kink we will dive deeper into with Hunt) as well. Pets will have a variety of outfits based on their moods, from full latex hound masks to something as simple as a pair of bunny ears, subs get to decide how deep into play they are before handing over their submission.

One consistent with pet play from everyone I've asked in the community is tails and ears, especially in bunny play, which won the poll post. Bunny play is known to be a gentle form of pet play typically done with a submissive who enjoys praise, cuddles, and more of a gentle interaction but enjoys being "fucked stupid like a dumb little bunny." And let me tell ya, hearing that come out of the doms mouth has me sweating.

I hope any of you who partake in pet play enjoy this fic, and those of you who don't still enjoy Eris and reader banging it out. This is a type of play I've always found interesting but never tried, so I did a lot of digging and talking to my friends and people in the BDSM community who do partake

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings - degradation and de.... defaeitazation of reader, reader sleeps in a cage, bondage, tailplug, smut

The growl that left Eris was primal and dark as he made eye contact with you. You sat in your little cage on your calves, wiggling with anticipation. "Did you get out and get dressed all pretty for me, baby?" You only smiled waiting for him to open the gate and let you out despite the fact that you could, and clearly had.

During his meeting with his father, you changed out of the pink lace babydoll you had been wearing and into a tight white corset with white lace panties and stockings. You had put in your bunny ears after curling and putting your hair in low pigtails. Eris knew there was a fluffy little tail waiting for him in those crotchless panties.

This was his favorite bunny outfit you owned. You wore it on nights when you knew Eris needed two things:

1) a submissive sweet little bunny to love and cuddle.

2) a sweet little bunny who loved nothing more than himself cock pounding into her until she couldn't think.

He picked up the collar and leash, bending his knees to be eye level with you, and opened the gate. He secured the collar around you, kissing you gently before standing and walking. You stayed on all fours, following him while looking up to him and waiting for commands. Eris settling into the sofa, coiling the leash around his hand a few times before yanking you between his legs.

His cock was already straining and leaking in his pants. Your submission alone was enough for Eris, but the outfit, the trust in him, that really got the heir.

He felt you kissing and mouthing at his pants, already aching for him. "Gods, you are a desperate little thing, aren't you? My sweet little bunny with not a single thought in her head but my cock, isn't that right?"

He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to nod while he smirked. "The big question is, do I pamper my little bunny tonight, or fuck her?" You didn't let the whine escape, continuing to look at him with wide desperate eyes. He chuckled darkly. "You should have thought about it harder when you agreed to no noises or speaking until I gave permission, huh?"

You didn't nod, blinking twice at him and wiggling again. You were shamelessly and completely soaked, mind falling into that pretty petspace as you waited for play to begin.

He began unlacing his pants, pulling them down enough for his waiting cock to spring free. He yanked the leash again, forcing your face against his length. "Well? Go head, bunny. Master doesn't have all night."

You wasted no time. You ran your tongue up his length before taking it into your mouth. Eris used the leash to guide your speed as you bobbed up and down, sucking and licking as you went. You smiled when he released a loud groan, head falling back to the couch and relaxed. You began using a hand to work what wasn't in your mouth, pumping and twisting in time.

You could taste his precum, causing a soft whine to leave your throat and your thighs to press together for friction. Eris looked down at you through his lashes before putting his leg between your thighs. "That's all you get until I say so, bunny. If you want to get off, there's your treat for being good."

It would have been more humiliating as you rolled your hips along his boot and shin, relishing in that much needed stimulation, but you couldn't find it in you to feel shame. Eris was moaning above you again, sighing in bliss as you picked up pace, needing more of his taste in your mouth.

You had soaked through his pants, moaning softly as you brought both of you closer and closer to the edge. He pulled your mouth down onto him all the way unexpectedly and came, releasing into your mouth for a few moments before pushing you back and working his cock to shoot the rest of his cum onto your tits and face.

He leaned back again, looking between you and his leg slightly annoyed. "Did I say stop, sweet little bunny? Get yourself off on my leg, and I will consider fucking you." You leaned back slightly, using your hands to brace yourself a little more and feeling that leash pulling taunt.

The angle you were at gave Eris a better view of your puffy glistening folds as you continued riding on his boot and lower leg. He switched the angle of his boot, forcing your clit to be in constant contact with him as he watched you move faster and faster. Moans and whimpers were constantly leaving your mouth, making his length hard all over again. "Cum," the command was gentle. "Been such a good girl. Need you to cum."

A desperate cry left your throat, head tilted back as you came. You continued to ride him through the high, soothing yourself as could. Eris stood, lifting you once you were finished before walking up to the bed. "Y/n," you broke character at the name, looking up at him. "I won't last long tonight. I've been pent up thinking about this all day."

You smiled at your mate, kissing him before bending over the mattress and allowing him to secure your ankles to the spreader bar that was built into the frame. "Me too, Eris. Missed you all day."

"I know. I felt it." Flames came tying around your wrists and pulling to ensure you could not move away. Eris ran his cock through your folds once, twice, and then pushed home, a needy noise escaping you as he did.

Eris began slamming into you. Hands holding your ass so he could admire your little tail. The plug had your walls feeling tighter than normal. Doubling the pleasure of each drag for both of you.

He opened the bond completely, the constant flow of pleasure sending shockwave after shockwave through you until you were no more than a drooling mess. "Fucked my sweet bunny dumb already I see." His voice was airy, strained with soft moans mixing in. He was so close, and you were too.

He reangled you, arching your back more to ensure he was brushing your gspot with each movement. At the same time, a hand went to your swollen bundle of nerves, making you scream in surprise and pleasure. "I know you have another one in there," he grumbled more to himself than you. "Cum little bunny. Cum on master's cock."

One more harsh thrust has you seeing star light and flames dancing in your vision as you came. Eris's name was a mantra on your lips, tumbling through them over and over. The squeezing of your walls on his length had him following behind you, sloppy deep movements ensuring not a drop of his cum was wasted.

The fire and spreader bar disappeared, allowing you and Eris to fall forward and completely into the plush mattress. You both laid there, deep breaths panting in and out as you did.

No words passed as he began to care for you, unlacing the corset, removing the ears and plug, getting you comfortable and naked before moving you both to the bathroom.

"Such a good bunny," he praised as you fell asleep in his arms. "And all mine," he whispered to himself. "My beautiful sweet little bunny."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra smut #eris x yn #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader #eris smut #eris acotar #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

[wandafiction]

Master list

This page is aimed towards an 18+ audience. There is a lot of fluff, a lot of angst and of course smut. Please read any warnings at the start of each of the fics.

I write on here, Wattpad and Ao3 my name being the same across the board. I currently have a Wanda x reader book on those platforms, that is currently sat at 132 chapters but is unfinished.

Requests are currently closed.

I mainly write for Elizabeth Olsen & Wanda Maximoff and Scarlett Johansson & Natasha Romanoff, but may throw other Marvel Women and their characters in the mix from time to time.

Elizabeth Olsen

One Shots

She Calls Me Daddy 18+

Happy Birthday

Mommy's Girl 18+

Can't Do This Alone - Parent Elizabeth & Robbie Arnett

Rearview Mirror

Wanda Maximoff

Book

Just Us - Chapters Completed 132/?

One Shots

You Remember

Supportive Friend - Platonic Wanda & Nat

Aunty Wanda

Jealous

I got Him - WandaNat

I got Him - Part 2 18+

Amusement Park

Beautiful Crazy

Heart Like Yours

Mini Series

In Every Universe

Scarlett Johansson

One Shots

She's My Wife - Part 1

She's My Wife - Part 2

I've Seen The Edits

Natasha Romanoff

One Shots

Drunk

I Got Him - WandaNat

I Got Him - Part 2 18+

You Stupid, Stupid Idiot

Other Marvel Women

One Shots

Cooking With Flo - Florence Pugh

I've Missed You 18+ - Carol Danvers

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen smut #marvel women #wanda smut #wanda maximoff smut #natasha smut #natasha romanoff smut

[callsign-dexter]

Requests are temporarily closed!

This Masterlist does have 18+ fics in it so please heed the warnings.

All fics are separated but I do:

Top Gun

Top Gun Maverick

One Chicago (Chicago Med, PD, and Fire)

Criminal Minds

9-1-1

9-1-1 Lone Star

The Rookie

I will do:

Sister!Reader

Daughter!Reader

x Reader

A/N: All fics not underlined means that they are planned and a wip this just helps me to keep track of what fics I need to do.

A/N 2: All fics are fem!reader unless stated otherwise or requested otherwise.

Series

(Discontinued) I'm Already There (Bradshaw!Sister)

My Daughter, My Heart (Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader, OC!Elizabeth Taylor x Daughter!Reader)

Whisper in the Wind (Natasha Trace x OC!Benjamin Bradshaw, Natasha Trace x Daughter!Reader, OC!Benjamin Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x OC!Wife!Leah Winters)

Universes

A Forever Home (Grace Ryder x Daughter!Reader and Judd Ryder x Daughter!Reader, Grace Ryder x Judd Ryder)

Baby Bradford: A Little Fighter (Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader, Lucy Chen x Tim Bradford)

Blizzard (IceMav x Daughter!Reader, Maverick x Iceman)

Littlest Halstead (Jay Halstead x Daughter!Reader)

Little Nash (Bobby Nash x Daughter!Reader)

Lil' Severide (Kelly Severide x Daughter!Reader)

Mini TK (TK Strand x Daughter!Reader, Carlos Reyes x Daughter!Reader, TK Strand x Carlos Reyes)

Our Little Girl (Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Jake Seresin x Bradley Bradshaw)

The Firehouse Miracle (Eddie Diaz x Daughter!Reader, Evan Buckley x Daughter!Reader, Eddie Diaz x Evan Buckley)

x Daughter!Reader

Top Gun

Maverick

Safe and Sound (Maverick x Daughter!Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader)

Always Daddy’s Girl (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

Light of His Life (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

Maverick is a dad!? (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

Crossing Paths (Maverick x Daughter!Reader, Penny Benjamin x Adopted!Daughter!Reader)

Always With You (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

Maverick's Little Co-Pilot (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

A Father's Fury (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

Night Ride Rescue (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

Echoes of Talent (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

The Lost Keepsake (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

A Father's Comfort (Maverick x Daughter!Reader)

Love, Laughter, and Little Pranks (Maverick x Daughter!Reader, Penny Benjamin x Daughter!Reader, Maverick x Wife!Penny Benjamin)

Just Like Daddy (Maverick x Daguther!Reader, Penny Benjamin x Daughter!Reader, Maverick x Penny Benjamin)

Never Again (Maverick x Daughter!Reader, OC!Nichole Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Maverick x OC!Wife!Nichole Bradshaw

From Fear to Family (Maverick x Adopted!Daughter

Jake Seresin

Nightmares (Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader)

One Chicago

Kelly Severide

Daddy to the Rescue (Kelly Severide x Daughter!Reader)

A Home in His Heart (Kelly Severide x Foster-Adopted!Daughter!Reader)

911

Bobby Nash

Unspoken Reunion (Bobby Nash x Doctor!Daughter!Reader)

911 Lone Star

TK Strand

"911 what is your emergency?" (TK Strand x Daughter!Reader)

The Rookie

Tim Bradford

I'm Fine (Tim Bradford x Daughter!Reader)

Surprise at the Station (Tim Bradford x Shy!Adopted!Daughter!Reader)

x Sister!Reader

Top Gun

Bradley Bradshaw

Brotherly Love (Bradley Bradshaw x Sister!Reader)

The Sibling Connection (Bradley Bradshaw x Sister!Reader)

Jake Seresin

Together Against the World (Jake Seresin x Sister!Reader)

Heart to Break (Jake Seresin x Sister!Reader)

One Chicago

Connor Rhodes

Blood Ties, Broken Bonds (Connor Rhodes x Sister!Reader)

Fics

Top Gun

Bradley Bradshaw

Be Mine Forever (18+ MDNI) (Bradley Bradshaw x Floyd!Pilot!Reader)

I Apologize (Bradley Bradshaw x Benjamin!Air Force Pilot!Reader)

A Flight of Insecurities (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Meet and Greet (18+ MDNI) (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Behind Closed Doors (18+ MDNI) (Bradley Bradshaw x Simpson!Reader)

Out in the Open (Bradley Bradshaw x Simpson!Reader)

Hearts on the Edge (Bradley Bradshaw x Wolfe!Reader)

My Brother's Wingman (18+ MDNI) (Bradley Bradshaw x Seresin!Navy SEAL!Reader, Jake Seresin x Navy SEAL!Twin Sister!Reader)

Love's Second Chance (18+ MDNI) (Bradley Bradshaw x Adopted!Mitchell!Reader)

From Fear to Forever (Bradley Bradshaw x Pilot!Seresin!Reader)

Intoxicated Confessions (Bradley Bradshaw x Pilot!Kerner!Reader)

Knight in a Hawaiian Shirt (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Shadow of Protection (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Jake Seresin

Surprise! (Jake Seresin x Best Friend!Reader)

Hangster

Doppelgänger (Hangster and Bradley Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader)

Dagger Squad

Fight for Freedom (Dagger Squad x Reader)

Learning to Love Again (Dagger Squad x Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Tangled Hearts (18+ MDNI) (Dagger Squad x Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

Maverick

A Guarded Heart (Maverick x Reader)

One Chicago

Connor Rhodes

Heartbeat Promise (Connor Rhodes x Nurse!Halstead!Reader)

Unexpected Reunion (18+ MDNI) (Conor Rhodes x Assistant!Reader)

Emergency Love (Connor Rhodes x Paramedic!Severide!Reader)

Blazing Hearts (Connor Rhodes x Paramedic!Severide!Reader)

From Exes to Lovers (Connor Rhodes x Nurse!Reader)

Lovers Forever (18+ MDNI) (Connor Rhodes x Fiancée!Nurse!Reader)

Surgical Serenad (Connor Rhodes x Surgical Resident!Reader)

Will Halstead

Unspoken Desires (Will Halstead x Doctor!Reader)

Daniel Charles

A Hug to Remember (Platonic!Daniel Charles & Platonic!Oakley Finn)

Jay Halstead

Dispatched Love (Jay Halstead x Reader)

Antonio Dawson

Heartstrings Tangled (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

From Tough to Tender (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

Undercover Temptation (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

From Colleagues to Lovers (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Gossip and Glances (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Flirting with Risk (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Love in Sickness (Antonio Dawson x Sick!Reader)

Undercover Desires (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Cop!Reader)

Shattered Lives, Mended Hearts (Antonio Dawson x Paramedic!Reader)

Drunken Confessions (Antonio Dawson x Halstead!Reader)

Fighting Fate (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Love Conquers All (Antonio Dawson x Halstead!Twin Sister!Reader)

Lost in Lust (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader

Frostbitten Love (Antonio Dawson x Firefighter!Reader)

Undercover Seduction (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

In the Line of Fire (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

Hank Voight

Snapshot of Justice (Hank Voight x Intelligence!Reader)

Blake Gallo

Two Hearts, One Firehouse (Blake Gallo x Severide!Reader)

Kelly Severide

Taming the Flame (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Sizzling Heat (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Heatwave of Emotions (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Broken Promises, Rekindled Flame (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Rhodes!Reader)

Ignited Desires (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Firefighter!Reader)

Flames of Courage (Kelly Severide x Firefighter!Reader)

Passionate Nights (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Saving Grace (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Fiancée!Paramedic!Reader)

Fireside Romance (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Snowy Embrace (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Beneath the Bubbles (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Christopher Herrmann

Surgical Sparks (Christopher Herrmann x Surgeon!Wife!Reader)

The Rookie

Tim Bradford

Love's Wake-Up Call (Tim Bradford x Police Officer!Reader)

Love in the Moonlight (18+ MDNI) (Tim Bradford x Police Officer!Reader)

Late Night Confessions (18+ MDNI) (Tim Bradford x Evers!Lawyer!Reader)

Unraveling Desires (Tim Bradford x Police K-9 Officer!Wife!Reader)

Forever Yours (18+ MDNI) (Tim Bradford x Reader)

Bulletproof Love (Tim Bradford x Reader)

911

Bobby Nash

Surprises and Smiles (Bobby Nash x Wife!Reader)

911 Lone Star

Owen Strand

Love and Homemade Treats (Owen Strand x Wife!Reader)

Crossovers

Fight to Survive (9-1-1 x Criminal Minds) (Evan Buckley x Nash!FBI!Reader)

Burning Jealousy (One Chicago x The Rookie) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Love in the Danger Zone (One Chicago x Top Gun Maverick) (Bradley Bradshaw x Halstead!Pilot!Reader and Kelly Severide x Halstead!Pilot!Reader)

#top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fan fiction #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fandom #one chicago fanfic #one chicago imagine #one chicago fanfiction #one chicago fandom #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fandom #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd imagine #chicago med fic #chicago med fan fic #chicago med fanfiction #chicago med imagine #chicago med #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire fic #chicago fire imagine #911 fanfic #911 imagine #911 imagines #911 lone star imagine

[melinoelliones]

After Hours | Meliodas X Fem Reader

You had just stumbled into the Boar Hat after hours, but I bet the bartender can fix you up a little something.

2.5K Words

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, filling up, masterbation, slight breath play, tears, praise

HI HI! Back with the smut hehe, sorry this was SUPER LATE. I hope the Meliodas lovers enjoy mwah mwah. I just wanna note that...

1. This is selfshippy, reader is a princess of Liones (not Elizabeth). Not beta read.

2. I tried to make sure it was similar to canon Meliodas but I think I may have slipped up a bit. I read it over in his voice so it’s not like SUPER off. We may interpret him differently.

3. I am a NEW WRITER so this may be written weird I APOLOGISE!!

SO ANYWAYS..... have fun

“SORRY GUYS THE BOAR HATS CLOSED, COME BACK TOMORROW”, a familiar voice called out from the bar, their back facing you as they continued polishing glasses.

You had just made your way over from your father, King Batra’s party he had thrown for the Sins as a thank you for another successful mission to protect Liones. Usually you’d just stay home in the palace with your sisters and the others or atleast until it was over, however Meliodas had decided to keep the Boar Hat open and stay there, so you thought, why not surprise him and keep him company?

You sneakily strolled through the tavern, taking a seat at the bar without a word. “I said the Boar Hat is clos~ ah well hello there beautiful” Meliodas gave you a smug grin, peering behind to see you sat across from him. 

“Space for one more?” you pouted, your puppy dog eyes were almost impossible for him to resist, “bars closed im afraid….. But I'm sure I can fix you up something real quick”, he caved, flashing you a quick wink before turning back to the alcohol.

Meliodas may have been a terrible cook, horrendous cook even but he could make a killer drink with absolutely anything, he also knew your taste palette particularly well and had yet to fail at coming up with a concoction you’d enjoy. And who could turn down a free drink?

You watched as the captain shook up up a drink for you, showing off along the way with a few bottle flips and tricks, “like what you see?” he joked as you rolled your eyes, attempting to hide your laughter. He was quite the show off sometimes but you adored every last second of it every time.

Placing a single kiss on the rim of the glass, the barkeep slid the dark coloured beverage in front of you. As you took a sip from the spot he kissed you hummed in glee, “oooo it's actually really good, maybe the best one so far”.

 “Aye, what kind of barkeep would I be if I couldn’t make my girl the perfect drink huh?” he shrugged, making his way out the bar over to the stools you were sat at.

As you continued to down your glass Meliodas quizzed you on your antics prior to coming over, you answered blindly, blissfully unaware that the man was now directly behind you, your back flush against his chest.

“I did miss you though, there was no chance that I’d stay in the palace till the end when I could come see you” you smiled sweetly to yourself, swirling the left over ice cubes. 

“Is that right, what did you miss about me hmm?” he mumbled against your neck, a wave of chills rushing through your body as you realised how close the guy now was to you. A pair of hands roamed freely across your chest, your tight fitted shirt making it easy for them to feel up every inch of it.

“I m~missed your erm jokes”

“Mmhmm what else?” he questioned, slithering one hand down from your chest to your lower stomach, lifting up your skirt in the process. Before you could muster up a response Meliodas ran his fingers along your slit before creating small circles on your clit, the friction from your underwear across it making you yearn for more. 

“Hey hey, I asked you a question didn’t I? What else did you miss about me tonight?” he teased, increasing the pressure on your sensitive clit as you cursed beneath your breath.

As you pondered for a second, Meliodas inched your newly damp underwear to the side, sliding your lips apart to reveal how wet you already were. “Well would you look at that” he smirked, using your own precum to ease two fingers into you, “you’re already drenched for me, I haven’t even started yet”. 

You yelped softly as he re-asked you the question that had completely slipped your mind, “Go on princess, you missed…..?”. 

” I~er missed your umm company?” you winced, lost for answers as he pushed his digits knuckles deep into your soaking cunt before curling them to find the sensitive patch. Your body naturally twitched as he found it, letting him know exactly what to pay attention to.

You melt into his touch, hips rocking into his fingers as he sped up, his palm pressing against your semi-swollen bud adding to the pleasure. 

The guy allowed his free hand to make work of your neglected breasts, skimming it under your form-fitted shirt as he kneaded your already hard nipples between his fingers, “Is that right? Did you miss this too? Me feeling you up?”. 

You could feel the blood rushing to your lower stomach as he focused on the growing spot inside of you, your hips rolling into his fingers, your moans soft but sloppy due to the overload of stimulation, “Meliodas p~please I-” 

“I know I know” he smirked, trailing a few small kisses on the nape of your neck.

“Hold your breath for me okay?”

Doing as told you took in a small breath, the barman deepened the curls of his fingers whilst the other hand twisted your nipples as you squirmed. You clung to your seat, the sound of him sliding in and out of you like music to his ears, “And out” he commanded.

The heat in your stomach was at its peak, you tried to steady your breathing as you could feel yourself reaching the end, “could ya hold your breath again love”. 

Taking in another breath you threw your head back against his chest “now cum for me, right here on this stool” he urged, scissoring his digits deeper inside you, his palm swiping against your clit harshly, your muffled whimpers and whines keeping him going. 

Your body twisted and turned in the stool as you came, coating his fingers completely as your thighs squeezed together around the guy's hand, yet he kept his pace allowing you to long out every second of your peak. Your chest tightened slightly as you remembered you were holding your breath, “You can breathe now my love” Meliodas chuckled.

Your breathless body fell back against him whilst you caught your breath, his warmth calming you down as he slid out his fingers, “well would you look at that, you did so well. Why dontcha clean these off for me too?” he asked, you could almost hear the smirk on his face as he showed you his fingers, they were almost dripping in your release.

In between breaths you rolled out your tongue, allowing him to slip them into your mouth, “that’s it” he cooed watching you suck yourself off them, your tongue weaving along them taking it all in before he pulled them away. He wanted to be the first to taste your sweet juices but you just looked too perfect with his fingers in your mouth.

You guys stayed as you were for what felt like a few minutes whilst you cooled off, he gave you nothing but sweet kisses before helping you off the bar stool. The alcohol conveniently started to take effect as you hit the ground, your cheeks burning up as you bent yourself over one of the tables in front of you.

Meliodas crept up behind you as you left your exposed ass in the air, your underwear completely doused and on display. You felt his clothed lower half meet yours, his needy cock poking through the layers of fabric separating you both. 

Trailing a hand up your trembling thigh he sniggered, “so was that all you missed? Or did you miss my cock in that pretty little cunt of yours hmm?”. 

You nodded, grinding back on it as he groaned, he needed to be in you so bad, fucking you sensless over this table, but he had to hold out. “I need you to say it, tell me what the princess wants” he huffed, feeling himself growing against your soiled underwear which was now seeping through his own pants.

“P~Please Meli I need you, please fuck me” 

“That's what I like to hear, such a needy princess” he cooed, taking in the sopping sight before him as he slipped your panties down to your ankles. “I’ll fill you up real good okay?” he reassured you whilst sliding down the band of his trousers, you watched as he freed his throbbing cock, biting your lip as you knew what was coming.

He may have been a small guy height wise but he wasn’t lacking in that area by any means, the girth alone always took you by surprise, wondering how your body always managed to accommodate such a thing.

Planting a firm hand on your hip he eased you back, gliding his cock along your slick folds before sliding the tip in. “F~fuck” was all he managed to get out as you inhaled sharply, clawing at the wooden table beneath you, the sheer size of him pushing out all the breath from your body.

“Cmon, you can take it” he assured you, pulling you back onto him, planting himself fully inside you, your walls slowly trying to adjust to it.

“Y~You’re so fucking tight, and so warm” he trembled as you conformed to his size.

You felt the barmans calloused hand travel up the curve of your back to your neck, then across to your jawline. With a slight tug he pulled your head, your needy eyes meeting his as your back arched completely. He placed a single peck on your forgotten lips before helping you back onto the table, “You’re doing so good for me”.

Setting his hands back onto your bare hips he pulled out almost completely before shoving himself back in, making sure to bottom out inside, “s~so big” was all you managed to choke out as he hit your sensitive spot with pure force.

He continued to drive himself in and out of your cunt, each motion being more intense than the last, making sure to hit your sweet spot every time. He knew you both wouldn’t last very long but he was determined to make the most of what y'all had. Hearing your little squeals each time he crashed into you making him crave your words. 

“I wanna hear your voice, I need to hear how good I make you feel” Meliodas panted continuing his strides, his balls swiping your swollen bud with each one, he wanted nothing more than for your moans to ring though the empty tavern. 

“Oh fuck, FUCK baby please, don’t stop” you desperately cried out as he spanked you, it was almost as if that brought your voice back. The sting adding to the intense wave of pain and pleasure swirling around inside your body, he felt so good but it hurt so bad. 

“That's what I wanna hear, cmon now, I wonder how the King would feel knowing that his daughter likes to be fucked like a common whore over a bar table by a little ole Bartender”

“Oh, did you like that? You like being called a whore while I fuck you like this, how unladylike” he grinned as he felt you close around him, so much so that he let out his own moan followed by a few curses. 

As you attempted to lift yourself off the table you caught a glimpse of your reflections in the fogged up window, a familiar dark purple mark drawing in your full attention. The man fucking you was no longer your sweet little barkeep, this was the Demon King's first son in all his glory. 

You now understood why he was being so vulgar and rough, it's not as if you didn’t love this but you were surprised that your neediness would result in him letting his demon side show.

“See what you do to me? I can’t even keep myself in human form” he sighed jokingly spanking you a second time, watching as a dark red hand mark slowly pulled itself to the surface of your ass whilst you let out all types of profanities.

You could feel you were at your limit, the scales were at a tipping point and you knew it would spill over any second. 

“Meli, I’m s~so close”, you choked out between strokes, your walls closing in on his piece as your body gave in.

“Go on, cum on this cock”

That was all the motivation you needed to hear, you felt Meliodas grab one side of the table as you came, your walls tightening causing a temporary halt to his movements, “that's it, paint my cock white”.

Meliodas longed out his thrusts to allow you to enjoy your orgasm, your pussy creaming around him coating his shaft completely. 

Before you had time to catch your breath Meliodas plunged into your sensitive core, your knees buckling ever so slightly trying to regain some strength, “cmon you can hold out for me”.

Tears trickled down your heated cheeks as the guy rutted into you mercilessly, all thoughts and words vanishing with each thrust leaving you a whining mess. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good” he grunted, giving you all the praise you deserved. 

Only you could treat him like this, the only one who ever made him feel this good, he was in a trance when in you.

His cock twitched inside of you as his grunts filled out the room, he was almost at his breaking point and you knew it. “I c~can’t Meliod-”, “uh uh uh, yes you can”, he hushed you, knowing your tired body would give way at some point.

After a few more clashes with your sweet spot he came, smearing your sore walls with his seed as you constricted around him once again, milking his cock clean into your aching cunt. 

The warm liquid was being plugged in by him before he lazily pulled out, “you took everything out of me, good girl”.

You panted as you felt both of your releases ooze out and down your inner thigh, Meli just stood back enjoying watching your body naturally push it out while fixing his pants. 

“F~Fuck you look so hot like that, maybe I should fill you up more often. Could be a bit risky though” he joked, using his forefingers to push it back into you.

Meliodas slipped you into his arms from the table, not letting you use any of the little energy you had left in you to move, leaving your underwear at the table's base. 

He watched as your tear stained cheeks hit his chest, your eyes struggling to stay open, but you did manage to notice that he was back to his regular self.

“S~Sorry about the mess” you yawned, knowing that everyone would be arriving back to the Boar Hat soon, “Don’t worry about that, let's just get you to bed”, he whispered, planting a simple kiss on your forehead.

 His only priority was you, and he knew as long as you were taken care of, everything was fine. He couldn’t care less about the others, so much so that he had failed to mention to you that he may or may not have seen a few sin shaped shadows on the other side of the tavern door moments before you came. But that story would be for another day.

#sds meliodas #nnt meliodas #meliodas #meliodas x reader #meliodas smut #nanatsu no taizai #nanatsu no taizai smut #Seven Deadly Sins #seven deadly sins smut #seven deadly sins x reader #nanatsu no taizai x reader #sds smut #sds x reader #sds meliodas smut #nnt smut #meli noel work's

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Mommy... Master List

Welcome to my main, navigation post!! Requests are closed… So check out my Requests & Prompt-List post with all the details!

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[dogsayswoof]

Hounds from Hell Chapter 1

Summary: Wednesday Addams takes an interest in a certain football player.

Word Count: 1.1k Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Hounds from Hell Masterlist)

Next Chapter

Wednesday Addams has always noticed your presence as you have always noticed hers. She was quiet but observant, but you were also not hard to miss. As the star quarterback of the Nevermore football team, you were not hard to miss. When she asked Enid about you all she could do was squeal in excitement.

"Fiiiiinally, you're taking an interest in something other than death around here. Y/N is the quarterback for the Nevermore Ravens, our football team. She's kind of a fur as she isn't a werewolf but she is a wolf of some sort. They're all really quiet about what they are-"

"They?" Wednesday cut off and Enid nodded,

"Her and her pack. The Hemingways, or the twins, George and Elizabeth, with the white hair both extremely quiet, and the Bassets... ugh Benton's shimmering black hair, and then his younger brother Atwell. They usually get picked up on full moons by their families. I guess they must be pretty wealthy because they usually get picked up in a limo, they don't appear until the next morning."

Wednesday nodded processing this information.

"Thank you for this information"

"Do you like her?" Enid asked a grin from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Y/N? We are somewhat friends if you want me to put in a good word" she said giggling at the thought.

"That will not be necessary" Wednesday replied coldly, turning on her heel and heading for the door.

"Whatever you say Wednesday" she called out.

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

You were fresh out of football practice when you were approached by the small dark girl.

"Y/N Y/L/N"

"Wednesday Addams" you said coolly, running a hand through your sweaty hair.

She stared at you studying your features.

"Did you need something from me? I am quite a busy woman" you said and she just stared a deep hole into you, causing you to shift.

"I noticed you are doing.. less than adequate in chemistry. I am offering my assistance so you can keep participating in your extracurriculars."

Your face burned hot at the thought of Wednesday noticing your failing grades.

"And.. how did you come to know that information?" you asked.

She crossed her arms,

"I just know these sorts of things" she replied in her typical monotone voice.

"Alright fine. Yes I need help."

"Then it is a deal. I shall help you and you will help me"

"How will I help you?" you looked confused, tilting your head sideways.

"I shall inform you of that later. Come to my dorm tonight. 7pm. Do NOT be late."

She turned to walk away as you watched.

"Yes ma'am" you called out after her.

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

You and Wednesday continued your study sessions, planned around times that Enid was not there, as not to be plagued by her suggestive looks and constant teasing.

One night, you were lying on the floor, books and papers spread in front of you, a massive headache on the rise when you hit the floor, pushing yourself up.

"Alright, I can't do it anymore" you said roughly.

Wednesday looked over at you from her desk.

"Well you are hopeless. Your brain's ability to retain basic scientific information is incredibly lacking."

"Thank you Wednesday" you said groaning and falling back onto Enid's bed with an arm over your eyes, "I have gotten a bit better"

"Yes, you have gone from D average to a C average." she admits.

You sat back up on the bed and you looked at her, studying her features as she carefully dissected the homework in front of her.

"Do you want to talk about something more interesting?" You asked and she looked up at you again.

You both stared at each other, a small familiar burning sensation growing in your stomach. You quickly looked away and tried to force the feeling away as you recognized what it was immediately.

"I suppose we could take a break."

"Alright, then, fire away. Ask me anything you want to know."

"What are you?"

You were taken aback by the abruptness of her question causing your face to drop before a small smile took it's place.

"The truth?"

"That would be preferred."

"A hellhound" you said casually getting up to play with different trinkets on her bookshelves, "My ancestors from years and years ago made a deal with the devil that they couldn't repay. Instead of turning over their lives to him they became servants to Hades."

You flipped a dagger as she watched intently absorbing this newfound side of you.

"My family became hellhounds. The Bassets, bloodhounds, and the Hemingways, soulhounds. As time progressed their loyalty was rewarded, the ability to live human lives and roam the world but as long as they remained loyal. Every full moon we have a duty to perform."

Her dark eyes bore into yours as you turned to look at her.

"What are your duties?"

"The soulhounds herd the souls of the unfortunate victims. The bloodhounds collect blood from the bodies. The hellhounds, are the right hand men to Hades."

Wednesday was entranced by every word you uttered.

"What do those duties consist of?"

You walked over to her, leaning on her desk with both of your arms and leaning in.

"I am responsible for the death and destruction of who Hades demands"

Wednesday felt the shiver down her spine as you whispered that to her. She followed you as you flopped back onto Enid's bed some sort of puzzle box in hand. Every ounce of her wanted to learn more about what you just told her, but she was at a loss for words for once in her life.

"You kill people then?"

"Yeah, but I try not to kill people who don't deserve it. My brothers and I have always followed that rule and it has satisficed Hades so far"

You rolled the puzzle box in your hand before glancing at your watch.

"Shit. I have to go. Curfew" you said flying off Enid's bed and shoving your homework into your backpack.

Wednesday stood up from her desk and in front of you.

"Thank you for sharing that with me" she said and you halted your actions. You smiled down at her and you thought for a second that there was the slightest hint of a smile in return, until the door flew open and Enid was standing there in an excited shock at the scene playing out in front of her.

"Oh... my... GOD" she screamed 

"That's my cue to leave" you said breaking away from Wednesday and heading towards the door. 

With your body inside the hallway, one hand on the door, you leaned back in and smiled.

"Come to the game tomorrow?" you asked and Wednesday crossed her arms again.

"I could think of several other more interesting activities to torture myself with than watch a bunch of boys tackle each other for fun."

"Good. See you tomorrow then." you glanced at Enid, "Goodnight Enid"

You took off down the hallway in order to get to your dorm before getting caught.

Enid looked at Wednesday and if looks could kill Wednesday would have been dead.

"So how long exactly have you been seeing Y/N?"

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #addams x reader

[lildrabbles]

I love the way you write!!! The Caine x reader was just sugary sweet! So I was wondering if you’d maybe write something for teen Michael afton x reader cause like I’m just a bit obsessed with him just a little bit and like maybe they can meet through Evan (or C.C) or something-

Teenage! Mike Afton x Gn! Reader

Warnings: swearing, Crying Childs name is Evan

A/N: thx so much for the request! Loved writing this, hope this is what you were looking for :)

(I couldn't find any good gifs 😢)

-you had been looking for a job for some quick cash for a while now

-after doing some work by dog walking and raking leaves, you managed to land a job at Fredbears Family Diner as a dishwasher

-you worked there for a couple weeks when the boss, Mr. Afton, came up to you and asked if you had the time to babysit his kids (he had a “very important business meeting to attend”...)

-you happily accepted after hearing the price he would pay (a considerably high price!!)

-he offered to drive you to and back since he lived quite far away

-when you reached his humble abode, you were surprised to find out that you would be taking care of 2 little kids, and 1 teenage boy around the same age as you

-he looked bitchy and like he didn't want to be here

-”Look kid, I don't care what my old man said, you aren't fcking ‘looking after me’, got it? So don't bother me”

-you were a bit taken aback, but didn't question it

-the little boy whose name was Evan didn't seem to cheer up much the rest of the night, but you managed to get on Elizabeth's good side!

-after that night and receiving your pay, Mr.Afton had gotten you to become his personal babysitter whenever he needed to be somewhere

-So after a couple weeks of being their babysitter, you had been able to actually talk to the other teen and learn his name which was Mike

-you two had slowly but surely gotten closer, and you even started to have a tiny crush on him

-but of course you didn't say anything, that would be unprofessional and you didn't want to lose both jobs

-So you kept your feelings hidden

-until one night, where you all were watching a movie together (Evan and Elizabeth had fallen asleep), he did the cheesy yawn-and-stretch-arm-over-your-shoulder move

-you stared up at him, but he still had a scowl on his face and didn't acknowledge you

-So you just sat back and blushed, not saying a word

-until you heard him sigh, so you glanced back up at him

-”you know, if you ever have the time to like.. I dunno.. get milkshakes down at that crappy old diner up the road, that would be cool, I guess..” he mumbled, a pink tint on his cheeks as he glared at the tv screen

-your eyes widened before you stuttered “w-well, uh… wouldn't your dad get mad? What if I lose my job as the babysitter and at Fredbears?”

-he shrugged, “then he won't find out, will he?”

-You looked down at your hands that were resting in your lap, “well… that would be nice then”

-He looked down at you with raised eyebrows, like he was surprised. But then he scoffed and smirked

“ ‘Kay. Meet me there tomorrow night at 7”

#fnaf x reader #mike x reader #Michael Afton #Michael Afton x reader #Teen Mike x reader #mike afton x reader #micheal afton #fnaf mike #fnaf michael afton

[talialovesmiw]

Chris Motionless x Reader

Shades of Purple

Part 1: Plum

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of death/suicide, angst, mention of Ronnie Radke, fluff.

A/N: First chapter of a new series! Enjoy my loves 💜

Tag List: @skulliecadaver-blog @witchyweeb34 @cookiesupplier @raydenrrobertson @sakuracyberhex @beaker1636 @lyschko666 @black-damask1999 @synthetic-wasp-570 @jilliemiw86

Prologue: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/740513916349808640/shades-of-purple-prologue

Part 2 https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/741516781730086912/shades-of-purple

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N’s POV

January 1st.

The worst day of the fucking year.

I’ve always dreaded the new year.

At the start of every new year, an auction was held. What does the auction entail? A trade. Humans would auction off one and other to vampires in the promise of safety and money.

Why would humans do such a thing for safety? Simply due to the fact that in this world, vampires were the most powerful beings, and most hunted down humans.

Most humans would auction off young adults. According to studies, their blood was the most desirable to vampires. I’ve even heard stories of those who would trade in their small children. The younger the blood, the better the taste.

Unfortunately, being 23, I fit into that category.

When I was 7 years old, my mother was in a serious car accident, and she lost her life. My father couldn’t handle her death and hung himself in the garage just 3 days after. My grandparents didn’t have room for me, so I was sent off to foster care.

I was in and out of homes, people were never looking for anything permanent. It was hard. Every single time I had thought someone finally loved me enough to adopt me, they would turn away and return me back to foster care. It was heartbreaking.

At 16, that’s when I’d meet the two most greedy and mean individuals. Todd and Elizabeth.

As soon as they saw me, they adopted me. Not because they liked me and thought they could provide a loving home for me, oh no. According to them, I had the perfect look for auctions, and that I’d make them a lot of money through a trade.

That day, they took me and two other girls, Aurora and Estella, back to their home. We weren’t the only girls there. Todd and Elizabeth had been adopting teenage girls for years now. They were preparing them for auctions…

For the past 7 years, they put us on special diets to ensure our blood could be at its purest.

“Pure blood and beauty will ensure you’ll make a perfect prize darlings!” Elizabeth would tell us, making sure that our looks would remain “perfect”.

Once they had decided a girl was ready, they would take that girl to the annual auction, only for her to never be seen again.

This was how they got by, how they made their money and kept their status. It was sickening. It was twisted. It was cruel.

It was a shame. I had grown close with some of those girls, and it was heartbreaking seeing them meet their fate on January 1st. The girls were always so scared, and by the time that fateful day would come, all their life was drained from them. They seemed to be a shell of what they once were.

I remember one night before the auctions, a girl named Morgan had tried to escape the house. She was going to be traded off the next day, and she had grown sick of Todd and Elizabeth. The poor girl just wanted freedom. When Todd found her in the early morning hours, he had beaten her violently. She had bruises all over her body and yet, they still made her go to the auctions. One of the maids had put makeup over her bruises to hide them, and Morgan looked the same after that. You couldn’t even tell she was injured…

I was close with Aurora and Estella as well, we had grown up together in the foster care system. We went through a lot together. We shared secrets and gossiped about the homes we’ve been in. Whenever one of us was in trouble, we had each other’s backs. We were best friends. And we were all going to be auctioned off on the same day. It was terrifying.

“At least we’ll be together, right?” Estella asked in a hopeful tone, her long black locks falling over the side of her face as she hugged her knees to her chest. Estella had always tried to be optimistic about everything, she always kept her head up. She had beautiful light brown skin and chestnut eyes, they sparkled every time she smiled.

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want to go alone..’ Aurora said softly, brushing through her shoulder length ginger curls. She was more shy and soft spoken. She kept to herself around Todd and Elizabeth, she was afraid of getting yelled at by them. She had a love for animals and always seemed to have a connection with any animal she came across.

“Y/N, you’ve been awfully quiet. Are you alright?” Estella asked, turning her head to look at me.

I had been sitting on my bunk, staring at the wall, lost in thought. My mind was so consumed with what could happen at the auctions tomorrow. I was afraid. Tomorrow, my freedom would be completely stripped from me by evil individuals that wanted to use me. That included vampires.

“Sorry girls, I just have a lot on my mind right now..” I said, looking out the window, watching the rain pour down.

“It’s about the auction, isn’t it?” Aurora asked, sitting down next to me on my bunk.

“Of course it is Rory, I can’t stop thinking about it..” I said, looking down. “Our freedom is going to be gone tomorrow because these two assholes we call parents are greedy. They already have protection, now they just want money. They’re selfish, and they don’t give a fuck if our lives are at risk.” My tone was bitter and full of hate. I could feel angry tears prick the corners of my eyes. “Nobody deserves to be in this situation, yet we’re all stuck.”

“Maybe…we’ll end up with nice vampires? Maybe they won’t treat us poorly?” Estella said, trying to be positive. As much as I appreciated the optimism, it wasn’t helping.

“They’re vampires, Stella. They aren’t going to be nice. They only want one thing out of us, and that’s our blood. Nothing more, nothing less.” I said, my words coming out a little harsh. “Sorry…that came out a little harsh, but…it’s the truth.”

“No, you’re right Y/N…but at least none of us will have to go alone. At least we’ll be able to say goodbye to each other, right?”

“I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you girls, you’re my best friends!” Aurora whimpered, tears coming from her hazel eyes and down her freckled cheeks.

“This is a shitty situation we’re in, but hey, we’ll always love each other, right?” I asked, leaning forward. They both nodded. “At least we’ll know we have someone who cares, even when we’re at our lowest. We’ll always love each other no matter what!” I said, giving them sad smiles.

“Oh, she’s right, c’mere girls, group hug!” Estella said, pulling Aurora and I into a bone crushing hug. Estella had always given the best hugs.

I was going to miss these two so much..

…………………………………………………………

“Oh, you’re going to look absolutely gorgeous Y/N dear!” Cheryl, one of the maids, said in a cheerful tone as she did my hair.

Cheryl was my favorite of the maids. She was an older woman who had always shown me and other girls kindness. She gave good advice and took better care of us than Elizabeth and Todd ever could.

She put one more hair pin in my updo and turned the chair I was sitting in to look at the mirror of the vanity. “There we go, all finished. You look beautiful my dear.”

I gave Cheryl a small smile, “Thank you Cheryl. You did a wonderful job.”

“Of course dear! Let me go grab your dress.” She said with a smile, heading to the closet. She came back a few moments later, and handed me the dress. “Here you are. I’ll let you change.” She said, leaving the room to let me get dressed.

My eyes went to look at the dress. It was a beautiful purple evening gown. I had always liked the color purple, all shades of it. It always seemed to make me look good.

I slipped on the dress and looked at the mirror. My eyes widened when I saw my reflection. The dress was floor length and hugged my body in all the right places. There was a slit that went up to my mid-thigh. The plum shade of the gown looked stunning against my skin tone. I looked beautiful.

It was such a bittersweet moment. I looked good for all the wrong reasons. I was supposed to look good so that way I’d appeal to my future predator. I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed, looking down.

“Something the matter dear?” Cheryl’s voice came as she stepped back into the room. I looked over to see a look of concern on her face. “If you’re concerned about your looks, you look beautiful.”

I shook my head, closing my eyes. “It’s not that. I just hate today. I’m afraid of the events to come.” I admitted.

Cheryl approached me and put her hand on my forearm, “I know dear, the situation isn’t pleasant, but you must stay strong. Keep your head up.”

“I know, I’m trying…I’m scared, that’s all..”

“It’ll be alright dear, everything will work out in the end, I promise.” Cheryl reassured me, offering a gentle smile.

“I’ll miss you Cheryl. You were always my favorite maid here. You’ve been nothing but kind.” I said with a sad smile, trying not to tear up.

“Now now, don’t cry dearie. You’ll ruin your makeup. I’m not worth the tears.” She said, pointing her finger.

“Right, sorry.” I said, chuckling a little.

Cheryl smiled at me, shaking her head. “Come now, your parents are waiting.” She said, taking my hand.

Parents…

They didn’t deserve that title whatsoever.

Cheryl walked me into the living room for Todd and Elizabeth to be standing, waiting for me with the two girls I had called sisters. Estella and Aurora were wearing the same type gowns I had on, only Estella was in gold and Aurora in an emerald green.

“She looks perfect, Cheryl.” Todd said, Elizabeth nodding in agreement.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be going now.” Cheryl said, turning to leave.

“Goodbye Cheryl..” I whispered, feeling the sadness take over. Cheryl gave me a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

“Let’s be going now, Y/N.” Todd said, dragging me along.

…………………………………………………………

Third person POV

He had arrived in his black BMW, pulling up to the valet. This was the first time he’d make an appearance at this event.

“Hello, and welcome to-“ The valet driver cut himself off when he saw who was in the car.

Christopher Cerulli.

The vampire who had never once appeared at this event.

He was reclusive, almost like a shadow. He had never cared for these types of events, or anything public really. He had always hid away, living silently in his estate. Nobody knew much about him, except for the fact he was rather wealthy thanks to family. He always seemed to be off the radar.

“Good evening, this is where I go for valet parking, I assume?” Chris asked, looking at the driver, his expression calm.

“Yes sir! Allow me!” The driver said rather nervously, allowing Chris to step out of his car. Chris handed him the keys, giving him a quick ‘thank you’ before walking up to the entrance.

“Strange, he was rather nervous. How odd.” Chris noted to himself, walking inside the building. He walked down the hallways, ignoring the stares others his presence brought and entered the main room.

Chris leaned against a wall, observing the activity in the room. Everyone was occupied with conversation of the bidding that was soon to come.

He wasn’t there for bidding on prey however. For what, though? He wouldn’t tell a soul. He knew he wouldn’t be taken seriously if he were to truly reveal that secret.

“Well well, look what the cat dragged in,” A voice spoke from Christopher’s left. He turned his head and a pit of disgust formed in his stomach.

“Radke. Good evening. Do you need something from me?” Chris asked, trying to remain polite.

Ronnie Radke. A vampire who was quite the opposite of Chris. Confrontational and cocky. He was rather full of himself too. He was one who enjoyed these auctions, always after new food.

“Yes, you can. Enlighten me. What the hell are you doing here?” Radke’s tone coming off rather nasty.

Chris scoffed, scanning his nails and not making eye contact with the other. “This is a universal event, no? All vampires are welcome to attend.”

“No one expected Mr. Gloom and Doom shadow boy to show, that’s all. Now, answer me. What business do you have here?” Ronnie said in an almost spiteful tone.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Chris said casually. That seemed to annoy Ronnie.

Christopher knew better than to indulge Ronnie in his business. He had always been one to put his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Lighten up, will you? I was only joking with you!”

“Who said I was offended?” Christopher’s tone was cool as he glanced over to see a fuming Ronnie.

“Have some wine, it’ll put you at ease.” Ronnie offered a glass of red wine. Perhaps if Chris drank, he’d spill the beans. Yeah, that was a good plan to Ronnie!

“No thank you. I don’t drink.” Chris said, shaking his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my number.” Chris had turned away, and left to get his number, leaving Ronnie dumbfounded.

“Fucking weirdo..” Ronnie spat bitterly under his breath.

…………………………………………………………

Y/N’s POV

Todd and Elizabeth had dropped us off at the entrance, leaving to go chat with other guests. They said to make sure we were in the holding room by 9:30 pm.

The only thing is…they didn’t tell us where exactly this holding room was..

The girls and I decided to split up and look for the room, it would take less time that way. At least…it seemed that way at first.

The building was huge! It felt like I was walking for ages with all the different rooms and hallways. There were so many people there. It almost made me feel claustrophobic.

It didn’t help that I could feel people staring at me. It was such an uncomfortable feeling. Their gazes were strong, some were even licking their lips. I knew who they were, and they knew who I was. The tension could be cut with a knife.

And now, I was lost.

Shit.

I looked at my watch to see the time.

9:21

Oh no…

I started running, hoping that whatever room I’d see would be the holding room.

I was running so quickly that I bumped into somebody. He turned quickly and grabbed my wrists, steadying me.

“Careful now, baby. Don’t want to get hurt now, do you?” He spoke.

Baby? What the fuck…

Whoever this was, he was already making my skin crawl.

“I-I’m so sorry!” I stuttered, feeling heat rush to my face from embarrassment. “I-I was just looking for the holding room..”

He raised a brow, “The holding room? That’s just a few doors down from here on the right.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I was close, thank god. “Okay, what a relief. Thank you!” I said, trying to release my wrists from his grip so I could leave. He wouldn’t let go.

“And where are you off to in such a rush? You’re not going to thank me properly? How rude..” He said, sounding offended.

“L-listen, I have to be in that room in a few minutes, I said thank you, so please let me go.” I pleaded, still trying to free myself. His grip only seemed to tighten.

“You really should be thanking me, you know. I saved you from falling AND told you where to go. You’re lucky I didn’t humiliate you for almost knocking over a vampire..”

Fuck, he was a vampire. I was screwed. I could feel myself shaking a bit. He seemed to enjoy my fear.

“You have a few minutes anyway, that’s plenty of time to repay me.” He lowered his head, his face getting closer to my neck.

“No, stop! Let me go!” I shouted, moving around and squirming as much as possible to try and break free. He was too strong.

His head was now below my own. His nose brushed against the skin of my neck, taking in my scent. I could feel his smirk against my neck. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. This is what you humans were made for anyway. Now why don’t you be a good girl for me and-“

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but all vampires are prohibited from drinking human blood before the auctions, Radke.” A voice interrupted from behind.

A taller man stood behind us, crossing his arms. His hair was ink black and his skin was pale. His dark brown eyes scanned the other man as he held a calm yet smug look on his face. He was rather attractive..

“I’m in the middle of something, shadow boy. Do you mind?” The other sneered, glaring daggers.

“Huh, breaking the rules. Sounds like something you enjoy doing. However, I figured you’d know better than that considering you’ve attended more of these auctions than I have.” The taller one retorted. My attacker scoffed and let go of me.

“Tch. Making me miss out on a good meal..” He grumbled, storming away and leaving me alone with the black haired stranger.

“Are you alright?” He asked, approaching me as I rubbed my wrists.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shocked. Thank you.” I said, smiling shyly.

“No worries. Radke has always been a pain in the ass to everyone.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good thing you came when you did…I thought for sure he was going to kill me or something..” I said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I wasn’t going to let that creep hurt such a pretty little thing such as yourself. You were only trying to get by. I swear, that man is always looking for trouble.” I blushed at his words, he was quite charming.“You were in quite a rush a few moments ago. Heading anywhere important?” He asked.

“I was heading towards the holding room…my parents are expecting me to be there at 9:30.”

“I see. Well, I’m sorry you were treated in such a way by that fool.” He said, shaking his head as if he were disgusted by the other man’s actions.

“No, don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault. I’m grateful you interrupted him.” I said, giving him a smile. He gave me a small smile in return, and I felt butterflies. He had such a pretty smile..

“You’re a kind girl.” He said before glancing at his watch. “I won’t hold you any longer as we both have places to be.”

Oh crap, I had forgotten to check the time!

9:26…

Uh-oh.

“Crap! I’m going to be late!” I said, panicking. “Thank you again for your help! It was lovely to meet you! Goodbye!” I said quickly, turning to walk away.

“Be safe, little dove.” He said softly.

Little dove…

I liked that.

“I will, thank you again!”

“Oh, one more thing..” The man said, catching my attention. I stopped in my tracks to look at him. “That’s a lovely shade of purple on you, darling.”

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