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#hope I did alright ^0^
blazewatergem · 2 years
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👻 & 🌙 for the fall ask game pls :3
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Sure can! So, I’m heavily falling back into BNHA/MHA and thus a new idea spawned from the ashes of an old one. Dancing in the Dark will be an analyst Izuku/Vigilante Izuku fanfic, with a few OC’s I’m excited to introduce! (Like always 😆) It’s mostly crackish, as I’m mostly writing for vibes and have no idea if I plan to stick to a mildly canon timeline or just. Off the rails we go haha.
Something I want to write in the future, hmm…I think I want to do something in the “Rising of the Shield Hero” fandom? But I haven’t a grasp yet on how that fandom feels about OCs…or shipping canon characters with OCs…so very vague ideas there at the moment.
There’s also an original idea I want to do - a few of them. One is I want to write a bunch of “Where Were You” fics for The Lost City cast. I want to write where exactly they were when the apocalypse came to a head, like where Dr. Ender was or what Erik was doing. There’s also a Surefire Camp snippet for Halloween I want to finish up, it’s almost done but needs fine tuning. And I really want to do some worldbuilding for the other universes I’ve made - ahhh! I’m swamped!! 😂 😅 What a pleasant problem to have lmao
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👀 I mean, if you’re asking…
Because I plan on going all in, I’m gonna put a “Read More” in case no one wants spoilers for these certain OCs such as: Dr. Ender(The Lost City), Victoria(The Lost City), Cleona(Surefire Camp), Althea(Cloaks in the Wind), and finally — Midoriya Jinx(Heiress)
Still here? Awesome! Let’s get started.
Dr. Ender: Ender actually never got their doctorate, like, they’re not currently supposed to be a doctor. What happened was, while working alongside their father on the front lines of the Mutant Virus, they ended up witnessing more than they should. After seeing their father experiment on countless infected, and the death of one they bonded with closely, they decided to leave. After setting the base on fire and running for it. Surprisingly, they’re more determined to keep the whole “Not Completing Classes” quiet than the other half!
Victoria: Victoria is one of the few humans who never gained a Mutation, so she decided to force one. She’s been experimenting on herself using the poisons she creates, and it’s actually showing. Her hair has gone white and brittle, she’s pale as a ghost, and constantly wears gloves now to cover marks. This is more of an open secret, as the others are trying to help her, but they don’t realize just how far she’s gone to try - after being seduced by a enemy soldier, she sold out Ricky to Gillihead, got him kidnapped, and is still keeping quiet about this. Nobody knows she had a hand in the event that, in the story, ends Arc One and really starts the action.
Cleona: Before Cleona came into the care of Phil and The Marksman at Surefire Camp, she was found in a barn - outside, three corpses. Two of the bodies were killed in a gunfight, but the last one was found holding a gun and appearing to be mauled to death. It’s assumed the two shot were her parents, but it’s unclear who the third was. Cleona has never told the others this, but she hates living deep in the woods because of this. She can hear gunshots of hunters, and it still scares her.
Althea: Before the events of Cloaks in the Wind, Althea was actually a really brutal person! Her magic was dangerous, and she was almost addicted to the feeling of it. It’s why she was worried about teaching Izuku hostile magic, and why she was so relieved he didn’t want that. She knows first hand how it can change someone, and now she is doing her best to stick to a vow of pacifism moving forward.
Midoriya Jinx: Technically not as bad, but Jinx has two big secrets she’s keeping from Izuku. One: The reason she won’t come home. He has a feeling it involves their mother, but has no idea how badly. On Jinx’s 16th birthday her Quirk(All for One) came in and made Inko push her away. Inko was very against Jinx’s previous “choices”(Critical of heroes, standing out, being as bold and loud as she could) but the final straw was having her father’s Quirk. It ended in a blowout fight that led to Jinx leaving and never properly coming back. Jinx knows Inko loves Izuku, and doesn’t want to damage their relationship. The second secret is her job: she fights in underground Quirk rings, and even takes the Quirks of her opponents. For obvious reasons, this is highly illegal.
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divinitysheart · 2 years
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 ❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜ ( for Data Namine ) @codebestowed​ 
SOFT & SWEET SENTENCE STARTERS
She has never been a fighter, that was more of Data - Riku’s and likely Data - Sora’s strong point, but that did not mean she would falter should she need to fight and protect someone. Especially if she had to protect them, for they mean so very much to her. In which is what has lead to her to cast Blizzara spells several times on a bug that was attempting to try and take her friend by surprise.
And while it was surprisingly powerful and successful, she can feel herself get dizzy in the aftermath of casting magic several times. For while she’s fully capable of casting magic, in the end her coding sometimes finds itself not coping the best after releasing too much magic. But luckily, it seemed like it was the last of the bugs for now so she didn’t have to worry about the fact what she just did might have left her defenseless if there had been more bugs or if her attacks had proven inefficient.
She’s certain that she’d get told to not overexert herself if he knew that casting magic too much made her coding somewhat unstable to a worrying degree. But that would be a conversation for later. Because now? She was more concerned over how her friend was.
“ Jeez ! That was a real shocker, didn’t expect to run into bugs here but good thing we ran into them when we did, they could have ended up posing a problem later on huh? “
She still can feel lingering dizziness, but it’s slowly fading away to the point where it’s not as much of an issue as it had been right after casting those spells without restraint. But her thoughts about her dizziness seem to drift towards the back of her head when he wraps his arms around her and gives her a gentle squeeze. She tenses for a moment before wrapping her own arms around him and holding on just as gently as the other, resting her chin on his shoulder.
Is this... how it feels to be hugged?
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She’s always seen and heard about hugging before, she just didn’t know how to go about it and initiate it herself. The hug felt so warm, so welcoming, and just so comforting, something she knows for certain she wants to do more often with her friends. For how could she not want more hugs with how nice they were?
And before she knows it she’s mumbling and asking, “ Thank you for the hug, I.. appreciate it. But what is the hug for? “
Namine expects him to say something along the lines of that he just wanted to because she’s his friend, in which is why when he says he just wanted to thank her for protecting him, she is left speechless for a moment. For while it wasn’t what she was expecting, it doesn’t mean she appreciates it any less.
“ ..Anytime Sora. I’m always gonna try my best to keep you safe, even if fighting isn’t my strong suit, you’re really important to me afterall. “
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rosyblooom · 11 days
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love (to hate) u | ln4 smau
PAIRING: lando norris x fem!reader A/N: hey! love this idea sm!! hope it's as u imagined :)
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Twitch
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yourusername
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liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 121,004 others
yourusername me and my bestie 🥰❤️ (fyi max this is OUR cat now)
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username so what i'm seeing is if i punch lando we'll be besties??
username I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE (sry lan) username bye💀💀
landonorris What a loser...
landonorris A cat is your best friend now?🤣
yourusername wdym everybody knows it's cats>everyone else>lando 🤭 username damn😭 username take a shot everytime lando and y/n make digs at each other, i dare you username lol no thanks i choose life
username AHH BOTH OF YOU ARE CUTE AF LYYY <333
maxfewtrell You mean my cat?
yourusername **OUR cat 🔫🙂
landonorris posted to his story!
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[ caption: Best night with the gang ❤️ ]
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f1gossipofficial
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liked by username, username, username and 11,903 others
f1gossipofficial Y/N L/N was spotted today by fans attending the Australia Grand Prix alongside Oscar Piastri. Despite her and Lando Norris famously not getting along, it comes as quite a surprise to see her accompanying his teammate, especially considering their shared friend circles.
Who knows, maybe there's a relationship announcement on the horizon?👀
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username Y/N 100% KNOWS WHAT SHE'S DOING LOOL
username she's so 😭 still gonna stan tho !!
username bruh they're literally friends
username oscar and y/n??? i would like to see it pls🙂‍↕️
username imagine having ur number 1 opp not only in the paddock but also in ur fucking garage like💀
username such nasty work omfg
username BREAKING MY SILENCE ‼️ they have the opportunity to pull the biggest enemies to lovers in todays day and age if they rlly wanted to👀
username lord there y'all go again... username i want whatever the hell u're fucking smoking cause what😀
username wait did he break up with lily???
yourusername posted to her story!
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[ caption: why would a man be there?? 🤨]
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landonorris posted to his story!
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[ caption: My lucky charm ❤️🙏 ]
yourusername
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yourusername alright fun's over, congrats bby xxx (happy now oscar?)
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oscarpiastri As you can all see, we are NOT dating
yourusername oscar i'm sry😭😭 oscarpiastri 😑 username aw man...😞
username Y'ALL ARE GOING TO FUCKING JAIL
landonorris Us 🤝 the drama
yourusername 🤭🩷 username match made in fucking hell😭 you guys are SICK
username WAIT WHAT? lemme move my bang and read this shit again cause wtf
username oh! 😀
username s(he) be(lie)ve(d)😓
username theyre both liars smh
username I TRUSTED YOU😭💔
username this whole time ppl were clowning me and i was right all along?🧍‍♀️IVE BEEN SAYING THERE'S SEXUAL TENSION OMFG
username on behalf of literally everyone i'd like to apologise babe. shoulda never doubted you x username lando and y/n need to apologise to u cause they played us all🤡
username you guys are fake as shit, but ig you're cute or whatever🙄
0:09 ㅇ──────────── 3:17
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januaryembrs · 7 days
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THE KID HITS BACK | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [4]
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Description: The THREE times things feel weird between Spencer and you because you're just best friends.
Length: 21k (this is HALF of what I wrote for this chapter before I split it into two parts :0)
Warnings: explicit hints of suicidal ideation, as I have said in the last two chapters, Bugsy has really struggled with losing Emily and has been in a bad place. it is mentioned once or twice but please read with caution if you feel topics of mental health, not vividly described but the effects of it, are mentioned. Spencer's addiction is also mentioned. Violence, blood, swearing, usual CM warnings. Also there is a brief mention of SA (bugsy gets spanked by a stranger in a casino), again if this is triggering please be cautious. EXPLOSION. Emily and bug argue + fight. Bug + hatch fight. Bugsy takes no prisoners in this one won't lie. Spencer and bugsy turn each other on accidentally.
authors note: this was supposed to be a lot longer (I've had to split it with the next part released in a few days time) and yet every time I tried to upload to Tumblr, it crashed because it was over 30k words ;-; OTHER HALF IS COMING SOON.
previous chpt | next chapter
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The one where Emily comes back.
She felt the headache as soon as she woke up. She’d experimented with Molly her first week of college, hated every second of it after she had prattled on for two hours to some other random freshman about the breakthrough research in enzyme-replacement therapy like she was catching him up on an episode of the Kardashians. She’d tried the odd few brownies, though they usually turned her stomach the next day and made her paranoid for about a week, before she swore them off entirely for their yummy, sober counterpart. 
She should have known what to expect when she woke up, but then again, if she had been smart enough to pre-empt how awful she’d feel the next day, she probably wouldn’t have taken the little pink pill with a candied love heart on the top at all. 
The duvet was soft against her face, and for a moment she didn’t care about anything except chasing the warmth it provided; just that she was cosy and it smelled nice, smelled familiar. 
Her eyes pinged open when she realised that whatever that familiar smell was, it was very much not her own sheets. And she was very much not in the clothes she left the house in last night. 
Bugsy sat up too fast, that much she knew, because in the time it had taken her to swing her legs over the edge of the bed, reach for the side table where she hoped to find her phone, a home phone, or just any working phone she could call someone off, she felt the room that smelled like a dream spinning around her. 
Her legs turned to jelly, her stomach tossed with a mix of nerves and nausea, and, graceful as ever, she fell face first to the ground with a thud, smacking her temple off the corner of the bedpost on her way down. 
“Fuck,” She whined, raising a hand to her brow that thudded with more than the side affects of last night, and she was quick to hear footsteps approaching as if in a half run. The door to the bedroom dragged on the thick sherpa carpet as it swung open, and she blinked wearily up at the culprit. 
“Alright, up we get,” There were hands slipping under hers before she got a chance to see anything that wasn’t a blurry mess of brown hair and worried eyes, and it wasn’t until she heard his voice she felt herself sigh in relief, “Of course you wake up the second I turn around,”
“Sencer?,” She cleared her throat, hands latching onto his shoulders as he lifted her back onto the bed, “Spencer?” She tried again, her lips chapped, her skin clammy. 
“Good morning, to you too,” His voice was soft, quieter than usual, like he knew just how delicate her head was and changed his tone accordingly, “Did you sleep well?”
“Morgan- where’s Morgan, I thought we…” She murmured, turning her head in confusion to the window where Spence had gone so far as to pull the curtains closed for her, seeing just the smallest crack of daylight filtering over the bed sheets. Her hands ran down his chest, her eyes lost and dazed, like someone had taken her batteries out, and Spencer took it as an opportunity to hand her the glass of water he’d got her and two advil. 
“Morgan’s safe; he went home, he said he had a wonderful night,” Spencer lied, hoping she was just a little out of it that she didn’t catch him in it. She always knew when he was lying. But, as he’d suspected, she barely picked up on it, her lips pouting in confusion when she took note of the medicine he’d given her, “Drink up, Morgan said you did a lot of dancing last night, you’re probably dehydrated.”
“I did…” She echoed him, trailing off when the blur of the nightclub caught up to her, and she remembered exactly the last time someone had handed her a little tablet like those ones. Her heart plummeted, her eyes widening into saucers, and she swore she might have felt the glass crack beneath her palm with how tight her grip became. She looked up at him, and instantly picked apart the pity and the sadness swimming in his honey pooled eyes, “You know,” 
He nodded softly, his hand coming up to stroke her hair away from her face, his gaze falling to where she felt something sore and achy forming on her forehead, bleeding into her brow. 
“Spence-” Her own groan of pain cut her off when he brushed over the bump on her temple, and she understood she had perhaps hit it much harder than she’d initially thought.
“Let’s get you breakfast, and then we’ll talk,” He whispered softly, concern thick in his voice, and for the first time in months, she didn’t fight it. She just listened, and let him love her.
-
“God, I am truly pathetic,” She muttered, sipping her coffee with a scowl in between the maple ladened pancakes going down with a vicious chomp on her fork. Her other hand was occupied holding a bag of frozen peas to her head, where a nice dark bruise was spreading its way over the right side of her face, spider webbing out into a black eye. 
“You’re not pathetic, everyone makes mistakes,” Spencer tried reassuring her, but he couldn’t help but smile as she devoured breakfast with the anger of a raccoon being dragged from a garbage bin, “You’re safe, that’s all that matters,” 
She sighed, and Spencer didn’t actually think she had ever been so grumpy around him before, “Spencer, look at me,” He did, he had been all morning, but he did as he was told anyway, “I’m a federal agent who took molly from a frat boy all because I can’t just grieve like a normal person and cry my pathetic little heart out and be done with it. I crashed your night because I can’t even handle a little ecstasy without needing supervision and I just got into a fight with your bedframe,” She finished with a huff, dipping her next mouthful of pancake in the puddle of maple syrup she’d created on the plate, “And the fucking bedframe won.” 
He smiled despite himself, reaching out to hold her wrist gently, making sure it was her turn to listen to him now, “Bug, I grew up being shoved into lockers and swirlied my whole life. I was the only kid in a classful of seniors that used to wedgie me so hard I had to have the school librarian, Mrs Addler, walk me between classes. Believe me, I’ve seen pathetic and you’re not- why are you crying, Bug, don’t cry,”
He remembered this bit, the mood swings, when he would pendulum between exhaustion and irritation straight into sadness and hopelessness, like there would never be an impasse between them unless he did more of the thing that had made him feel so awful in the first place. Still, he gently took the bag of now slightly soggy peas from her head, wrapping an arm around her back and scooching his chair to sit next to hers as she dropped onto his shoulder with a weepy sniff. 
“I’m crying because I just thought of baby you all alone with Mrs Addler-” She sobbed loudly, and his heart bled out in his chest with warmth. No one had ever cried for him. “How could they be so cruel to you, I swear if we ever see those bastards, I’ll show them how we settled things in Russia-” 
He chuckled, shaking his head, and she snuggled closer to him the way she had last night when the only thing keeping her on earth had been his body heat. 
“It wasn’t all bad, she used to share her butterscotch with me,” He said with a small smile when she raised a wet glance at him. 
“You know, you never have to be alone again, right?” Bugsy murmured, and he swore his heart might have just jumped right up into his mouth then and there, “You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I promise I’ll never leave you again. That was… selfish of me, I’m sorry I was so selfish.” 
Spencer felt his throat tighten as he looked at her, innocent and entirely truthful, like he could ask anything from her right this second and her god’s honest words would be ‘Anything for you, Spencer, I’d do anything for you.’ He had never had anyone look at him like that, nothing even close. 
“You’re my best friend too. And you weren’t selfish, you were grieving,” He choked out, and she tucked herself beneath his chin then, satisfied with the response, but his stomach turned sour when he remembered what he was going to tell her last night, what he should have told her months, years, ago instead of lying to her. Because he knew she would understand, knew she would get him the way no one else had even tried to, because she was just her. “I have to tell you something,”
She sat up straight, sensing the seriousness in his tone, and looked at him with imploring eyes, still sleep-addled and slightly wet around the edges. 
He cleared his throat, “When I told you I was allergic to narcotics since I was born, that wasn’t entirely true, and I’m sorry I lied to you,” Her brows softened, creasing in a way that told him she was worried, or she knew where he was heading but couldn’t find a voice in her to say anything. He ran clammy palms over his pyjama pants, “There was a case, a while back, where we were tracking an UnSub to this farmhouse in the middle of Atlanta. Me and JJ got split up and the UnSub took me hostage in his father’s shed,” 
She stayed quiet, but she quickly took his hand in hers when she saw him fidgeting with it in his lap. He smiled at her weakly, and squeezed her fingers gently, telling her he was okay to talk about it no matter if his chest was rattling and his face felt like fire. 
“He was very sick, the UnSub. Tobias. He took on an alter of his dead father because he couldn't handle life without him. Even though his father was extremely violent and abusive, he still loved him enough to never want to let him go,” His lip pulled between his teeth for a moment, and he couldn’t look at her for what he was about to say, “Tobias tried giving me something to stop the pain of his father’s beatings when he would front and being a drug addict himself, the best thing he had was dilaudid. So, he gave it to me for the three days I was with him before the team found me,” 
“Spence,” She said softly, knowing he would hate to hear an ‘I’m sorry’ because she hated those two words with a passion, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” 
“No, I want to, it’s just a little… fuzzy in parts,” He whispered, and she nodded, gently knocking her head against his jaw to let him know she was there to listen, “After the case wrapped up, everyone got home and just sort of pretended things went back to normal, even though I felt like I was drowning in everything that had happened, and the only thing I could think that had stopped the pain was the dilaudid. So I took more, and more, until I was using every other day, sometimes even at work to cope with the cases,”
“Did anyone know?” She asked, lips pressed tight as she scolded herself for talking, but he stroked her hand with his thumb to show he didn’t care if she asked questions, “Did Emily know?” 
He nodded gingerly, “Everyone knew, but no one could do anything, or say anything, because otherwise Hotch would have to file a report on me, and I’d be forced to leave the team,” 
“So no one helped?” She said, and there was an unexpected trace of anger in her tone that he knew too well. He’d be lying if he said that there were more than a handful of times when he was at his lowest he didn’t curse the team out for not giving a single shit about his condition. But when he’d sobered up, when he’d got clean and back to his usual self, he knew they were trying to do what was best, that they were in uncharted waters as to what would be the correct approach to helping him that wouldn’t diffuse a bomb that could ruin all of their careers. 
“There was nothing they could do, Bug. If they said anything they would be just as liable as me for what I was doing, the same way Morgan and I aren’t going to say a word about what happened last night,” He pointed out, and she seemed bitter as if she knew he was right but hated the point of it anyway. 
She held onto herself for long enough hearing that, and he saw it coming before it came as a shock when she threw her arms around him, hugging him tighter than she ever had before, not crying like she had been, but full to the brim of sadness and grief and mourning, as if she was trying to squeeze it all out of him so she could take it on for herself. 
“You’re never going to be alone again, I swear, Spencer,” 
And he believed her with everything in him. 
Bugsy had been back in the field for five weeks now, looking healthier than ever thanks to Hotch’s insistence she joined Beth for triathlon practice despite the fact she really had started feeling more like herself. 
It had only taken six months, but who was counting, right? 
Sure, walking past Emily’s desk had stopped her in her tracks the first day she got back, and Morgan had quickly jumped in to distract her with a cup of coffee, leading her over to the kitchenette and far away from the empty table her sister’s things had once been on. 
She was still adjusting to this alternate reality version of the BAU where Emily wasn’t there to protect her and watch out for her, and where they didn’t bicker about who got to ride shotgun with Hotch because Bug loved when he would drive fast (he pretended not to notice but would floor it when they hit the freeway), or when they would butt heads over who finished off the biscuits Emily kept in her secret stash (it was almost always Bugsy sharing them with Spencer and Penelope, when the three of them would gossip in Pen’s lair at lunchtime.)
She was adjusting, slowly yes, but there was one thing to keep her going, to keep her holding her head high as she walked past Emily’s picture on the way, full of smiles and dark hair the day she’d been instated in the bureau, her excitement tangible even through a piece of paper and a thin sheet of glass. 
There was one thing keeping her going, and it wasn’t Penelope’s cheerful good mornings she showered her in the minute she entered the building, it wasn’t Beth’s runs that would take everything out of her even though she felt stronger than she ever had, it wasn’t Rossi’s insistence on cooking for her once or twice a week because ‘he had more wine he could ever need alone and she could stir the pasta while he chopped the meat’, and it wasn’t even Spencer sticking to her side like damn velcro since she had been back. Although, they played a pretty big part in it. 
No, the one thing keeping her going was revenge. 
Morgan had let it slip accidentally, the morning she had come back into the headquarters to fill in some forms with Hotch and Strauss before Hotch was reassigned to Pakistan, when she had slinked into his office with an apology ready at her lips for the way she had behaved, to which he was going to say he had no idea what she was talking about because that was how things had to be, only to find file upon file upon caseload on Ian Doyle splayed all over his desk, and she quickly realised Derek was not one to let sleeping dogs lie either. 
And, reluctantly, he had let her help, because he hated the idea of them keeping secrets from her. Especially ones that involved them secretly tracking down the guy who killed her sister, who had threatened to abduct, torture and kill her if Emily hadn’t gone after him first. 
Because Bugsy was always going to be her little sister, no matter how grown and headstrong and stubborn as an ass she was. And Emily had had zero intention of letting Bugsy come even close to danger at the hands of Ian Doyle or any other motherfucker dumb enough to think they’d get away unscathed making threats to her sister. Which was why Emily had been the one to track him down first, no matter who she had to trample on, what lines she had to cross.
And now it was Bug’s turn to reciprocate the favour. 
The one thing that bounced around her head with every step she took across the BAU floor was how Ian Doyle would look when she dragged him to hell and back and everything in between, when she made him burn the way she had burnt. 
Hotch had been away on temporary duty for the month, bar the occasional phone call where he checked in on her directly or through Spencer, and it wasn’t until she walked into Morgan in a blunt exchange with his own cell that she realised he was perhaps closer to coming home than she’d thought.
The man nodded, and bid the mystery caller goodbye before he flicked a look up to where Bugsy had entered his office with a cup of to-go coffee and an expression of intrigue. 
“We got him,” Morgan said, and it was the three words she had been waiting to hear for two hundred and fifteen days. 
They had found Doyle. 
She was in the back of an SUV not even two hours later, strapped to her neck with tactical gear and two loaded pistols holstered at her hips. 
“You’re sure you’re alright to do this?” JJ asked from her place beside her, noting the way the girl’s leg was bouncing, her fingers twitching as the three of them crowded around the screen linked to the surveillance camera set up outside Doyle’s apartment, Spencer and David watching an identical feed in the next block over, outside the safe house his son, Declan, was supposed to be in. 
Only, when they’d arrived, the little blonde haired, blue eyed boy that was the only thing Doyle gave a damn about in the world was gone, two agents and his nanny lying dead on the floor. 
“Put it this way, JJ, I’m going in after that son of a bitch whether you guys cover me or not, and it would be real nice to have back up,” Bugsy said simply, like she was reciting the weather, not ready to rain hellfire on anyone who got in between her and wringing Doyle’s neck. 
The blonde woman exchanged a look with Derek, the two of them cautious about her behaviour, but thought better than to try stop her when she had just as much right as any of them for justice. 
Before any of them could say another word, a car sped around the corner of the cul-de-sac, veering and wavering between parked cars, narrowly missing theirs by an inch, and red-blue blaring lights came racing after it within seconds, the siren full blast and no doubt waking the neighbours. 
Or at least one neighbour in particular, as they spotted the curtains twitching in Doyle’s apartment, and they had their first sign of life in hours. 
“He’s in there, someone’s in there,” Bugsy pointed to where the fabric moved in the dead of the night, unholstering one of her weapons and bursting the back door to the SUV open. 
JJ clicked her radio on, speaking into her shoulder as Morgan was a hair width behind Bugsy, equally armed and ready, “We got movement on Doyle, we’re heading up to search his apartment,” 
“Be careful, keep an eye on the kid,” Rossi ordered, he and Spencer adjusting their positions in their SUV, waiting for forensics to show up and investigate the nanny’s house. Spencer licked his lips nervously, and he could only imagine what was going through Bugsy’s mind at that moment, wishing more than ever she could have just stayed with him and let Morgan and JJ catch Doyle. 
But she would never. She had nearly ripped Rossi’s head off for suggesting it even. 
She’d seen him move up to the roof, had taken the stairs in twos, and she felt like kissing Aaron the second she saw him for all that cardio paying off a treat. She heard Morgan panting behind her, urging her to wait up so she wasn’t going in alone, but she didn’t listen, not when she was this close to getting that rat in her grasp and squeezing the life out of him barehanded. 
She kicked down the door leading to the roof from the stairwell, her pistol drawn high and sharp and Morgan’s steps racing up behind her were the only sound for a moment. 
He was here somewhere, watching them, god only hoped they had caught him unaware before he could call in his own backup. 
Taking a careful step out onto the concrete, willing herself to take a deep breath and calm herself; she checked her nine o’clock, checked her three, before her boots crunched under her and she moved further out onto the roofing. Flicking a look around again, her eyes squinted against the moonlight that did little to no good, searching for even the smallest movements that would give him away. 
“I heard you wanted to see me, Doyle,” She said loudly, hoping he would fit the profile they’d put together and want to tie up his loose ends once he realised who she was, “Truth is, I’ve been wanting to see you too,”
She had barely a second to react as she felt something hard slam across the back of her head, and she realised he had hit her with a rogue, loose pipe, hard enough for her to stumble forward, dropping her pistol when his body soon followed to tackle her completely to the ground in the effort to grab for the gun himself. 
But she felt like body was alive with excitement, like the pain in her skull didn’t ache, didn’t matter, because she had him in her reach. 
It took her barely a second to bring her elbow into his stomach, winding him hard enough he weakened his grip on top of her, then another hit square across his jaw, another to his temple, one to his already crooked nose and she threw a downward thump into his groin for good measure. 
He hissed, cursing her something vile, and it was only then she saw the grey-blue eyes of the man who had killed her sister with no remorse, who had taken the person she loved unconditionally within a blink of an eye. 
“You recognise me?” She said, a manic smile on her face as she raised the other gun from its holster, kicking him hard in the knee she’d seen him limping on, a bullet wound shaped scar giving his weakness away in seconds.
She wasn’t the only enemy he’d made in that business of his, but she sure as hell would be his last one.  
He fell to the floor, his eyes wary as he looked up at the girl he had spent weeks collating photos of, the girl he’d had two of his best men tracking, snapping pictures of her going about her day to day life before he sent them to Emily. Because she would know what that meant no words needed. 
This was her sister. Her little sister she had fought tooth and nail for, that she had given her life for. Her sister, who had the same rock solid loyalty to her family as Lauren had. 
“Do you want to know where you went wrong, Doyle?” She asked, and her voice wasn’t calm like her body was, it was hiding the glee she was taking from his alarmed expression, like they both knew she was the last person he would have expected to be grabbing him in the night, “Your mistake, Doyle, was not killing me first,” 
She raised her finger to the trigger, feeling for a second the same thrill as when she popped that molly just to forget everything that was happening. Because she had tunnel vision, and pulling the plug on Ian Doyle’s pathetic existence was the solution. 
Until Morgan’s hand came over hers, and his voice was closer than she’d expected to her ear. She’d barely heard him creep up on her, she realised with a jolt. 
“Don’t do this, kid,” 
“He deserves it,” She spat, hating the sorrow in his voice when he pointed the gun away from Doyle who wiped his fingers beneath his nostrils and pulled back with a wince and a blob of blood over the back of his hand. 
“I know he does. But we need to find Declan, and we can’t do that without him,” Morgan’s voice was deep and bitter, knowing full well he had to be the one to take the reins as much as he would love to just let her have at him. 
Her nose scrunched in disgust when Doyle laughed at her annoyance, and she quickly holstered her weapon, pulling the cuffs out of her back pocket and helping Morgan yank him off the floor. 
“I got some friends that would love to meet you, honey,” Doyle said through a wheezing breath, despite Morgan’s rough hands shoving him forward towards the stairwell. 
She chuckled however, her face still bitter, her eyes something nasty and wild as she flanked his other side, “Don’t worry, I have some friends for you to play with too, Doyle.” She tightened her grip on his arm just to make it hurt, “I wonder how the Chernuses would feel about you and your men being so close to their turf. You ever fucked with the Russian Mob, Ian?”
His smile wiped clean off his face at that.
-
“How’s it going?” Hotch asked, and she barely had time to comment on the fact he looked rather dashing with a beard and a tan, or that he had lost ten pounds, before he was straight back to business, even after an eighteen hour flight. 
“He won’t talk. He said the only person who could have helped us find Gerace would have been Emily.” She replied, rubbing her hands over her eyes with a huff, “Just another dead end,” She threw the file onto the roundtable, which was slowly piling up with documents relating to anyone Ian Doyle had ever had relations with.
Hotch’s face tightened. He took a single moment to enjoy the calm that overcame the room, took a second to enjoy the fact she was looking normal and healthy compared to when he had all but barged into her apartment to force her on a run. 
Because he knew the normalcy they had found themselves in now was about to be flipped on its head, JJ confirming with a nod from the other side of the room that she was on her way. 
He turned to look where Morgan, Rossi and Reid had walked in, Reid stroking a gentle hand over Bugsy’s hair where she hunched over the table and flicked through some files for anything to keep her mind off of going into that interrogation room and ripping into Doyle. She flicked a small smile up at him as he passed her, leaning over her shoulder to take half her workload off her. 
She looked happier than she had in months, and he was about to take it all away again. Hotch swallowed the self loathing that threatened to choke him alive, and opened his mouth. 
“Everybody have a seat,” The team looked up at him in confusion, but followed orders, JJ moving around the table to stand beside him, the same reluctant look on her face when she saw Bugsy’s frown.
“Why?” Morgan asked, seeing as no one else was going to, “What’s going on? Everything alright?”
“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team,” Hotch began, his eyes immediately flicking to where the youngest Prentiss faltered, “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilise her,” 
Bugsy’s ears started ringing just hearing her sister’s name coming from his lips, said so casually and blunt that it felt like he had punched her in the stomach and she thought she was maybe over estimating how well she had overcome the grief. 
And that hadn’t even been the worst part, she quickly realised. The doctors were able to stabilise her. 
“And she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need to know. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security,” Hotch said, avoiding the piercing eyes that were slowly melting between confusion to heartache to one she finally could land on, horror. 
No one breathed for a moment, no one said a thing as the words sunk in, and she felt her entire body wash over with a gut wrenching numbness as it dawned on her what he was saying. 
Emily never died on that table like JJ had said. She had never died at all. 
“What?” Her voice was tiny and childlike when it came out, and she felt like she was stuck in the world’s worst nightmare, like she could claw and scratch and rip at her skin just to wake herself up from this terrifying dream where Hotch had lied and Emily had left her and everyone who was supposed to care about her had kept her in the dark. 
“She’s alive?” Garcia asked, tears in her own green lined eyes, looking at Hotch with utter shock. 
“But we buried her,” Spencer found it in himself to murmur, because none of this made sense and if any of what Hotch was saying was true, then he knew things were about to become really ugly. 
“As I said I take full responsibility for the decision; if anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me,” And it was only then he looked at Bugsy fully, properly, since he had opened his mouth. 
He could have swore he had never seen such complete and utter betrayal written across someone’s face, let alone directed towards him. Because he knew that’s what it was. He knew he had taken every scrap and shred of trust she had placed in him since that day she ran away from her own wedding and found herself stuck in that very same office, hugging him tightly with her sodden veil and even more soaked white dress, he had taken everything vulnerable she had ever given him and spat it right back at her. 
He felt like crying but before he could think too hard about it, he saw Emily walking down the hall and her own face was just as, if not more, devastated than his own and he knew he had to be the one to stay strong. 
Garcia’s head snapped to the doorway, the sight of it leading Spencer and Rossi to do the same, and Morgan’s face morphed into anguish when he took a look for himself. 
Because there, looking like a glowing beacon of everything they’d been missing in seven months, was Emily Prentiss, alive and well. 
She seemed lost for words, her eyes falling to her sister who seemed to force herself to look up at her from where she was staring in wide eyed terror at the table, as if she was struggling to comprehend any of this, or like the building was falling down around her and she was in complete fight, flight or freeze. 
But she did, she looked up at her after a second, her face unrecognisable to Emily for a moment, and it took all of three moments where she seemed relieved to see her, before it curled into a vitriolic anger Emily had never, never seen from her. 
She looked like she was ready to kill her with her bare hands herself. 
Penelope was first out of her seat, practically flying across the room to grab her close friend in a hug, a complete bubble of sobs and wails, her pigtails shaking with her rattling chest as Emily hugged her tight to her. 
“Oh, my god, it’s real-you’re real- like I can actually touch you and you’re safe and not in that god awful box-” Penelope was a catalyst for the rest of the team standing up to take their turn crying on the woman’s shoulder. 
That is, the rest of the team except Bugsy. 
She remained in her seat, her gaze falling back to the mess of files that all of a sudden felt a complete waste of time, felt irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Who cared who was Doyle’s financial advisor between the years of 2005 and 2007 when Emily was alive and they had known the whole time. 
And the more she thought, the more furious she got. And then the more furious she got, the stiller she became; an atomic bomb ready to detonate at the slightest prod. 
“I am so sorry, I really am,” Emily said as Spencer had wrapped his giant arms around her tentatively, smelling her perfume and feeling his heart ache with how warm and alive and healthy her body felt. “Not a day went by that I didn’t-”
But a sound cut her off, one none of them were expecting in the slightest. 
Bugsy was laughing. 
Not the sweet chirp she normally gave, or the hearty one that came from her gut that they hadn’t heard in months, but something manic. Something frenzied, beserk. Deranged. 
Hotch’s head snapped to her, Emily’s too, though she had already taken note of the fact her sister hadn’t so much as moved from her feet, and stupidly she had hoped it was the shock sinking in. 
But her eyes were cruel, her teeth more of a snarl than a smile and the laugh she gave was that of a person over the edge. 
The straw that broke the camel’s back, she believed it was called. 
“She never made it off the table,” Bugsy imitated woefully, her eyes snapping to JJ, who felt smaller than she ever had under the hatred in them, though the girl’s nasty smile hadn’t let up, “You are good, Jennifer. You really got me there, hey maybe if the agent thing doesn’t work out then acting is alway an option for you,”
“Bug-” Hotch started, only for her to stand up so harshly her chair nearly tipped back, but she didn’t seem to care as she rounded the table towards him in a bitter chuckle. 
“And you! I didn’t know you had it in you. But very good, Hotch, very well played out. For a second I thought you actually gave a fuck about me,” She fist bumped his shoulder, a little harsher than something innocent behind it, before something spiteful settled in her tone, “But then again, you are nothing if not professional, aren’t you? I guess a suicide on your team would look terrible on your report card,”
“I think you need to calm down and let’s talk about this for a second,” Hotch tried to jump in, his brows furrowed enough to make him look annoyed but anyone with two eyes could see the worry that brewed there, that chased her as she retreated to where her jacket was slung over the back of her seat. She laughed again viciously, shaking her head. Grabbing her coat, she headed for the door where Emily stood helplessly, not knowing what to say for the best, and she thought for a minute her little sister was going to address her. 
But she didn’t; didn’t even look her way as she approached, and it wasn’t until Hotch rounded the room after her with a fixed gaze she showed any sign of stopping. Not until he reached for her arm with a tight grip, a call of her name, did she even halt in her step. 
“Stop, let’s just talk,”
“Let go of me,” Bugsy snapped, and it was the first time she actually gave way to the anger she felt, the amusement coming from a place of distraught long gone. She sounded pissed.
“Listen to me, we had no choice here,” Hotch barked, because it was the only way he could communicate when he felt this lost. And that’s what he was; he was losing her. They all were. “And I would have thought you’d be able to stop being so spoiled for one god damn second to see we were protecting-”
Her palm whirled around faster than he could have ever anticipated, slapping clean and sharp against his cheek, hard enough the air was sucked out of the room and his words died in his throat. 
Penelope gasped. Spencer’s eyes widened. Emily took a heavy gulp. 
“Bugsy!” Emily said in horror, and it was then her little sister’s eyes actually set on hers, every bit as cruel and hateful she’d expected.
“I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? I don’t want to talk to you, or see you, don’t even speak that name, I don’t want it from you anymore,” Bugsy pointed at her with crooked, bitten nails Emily knew all too well, “You left me. You left me.”
With those three choked words, the other’s could only watch hurricane Bugsy whirl and burn and crash her way out of the room.
She sat on the steps to the federal building, perfectly dressed agents filtering around her with the occasional tut in disgust. 
She couldn’t really blame them; her face was wet with tears, she was pretty sure there was snot running out of her nose hastily, and between her free hand, the other of which was pulling at her hair, was a cigarette that swirled its grey smoke around her head with a horribly addictive smell. 
She heard footsteps approaching her from the back, different from the rest, and felt someone stop beside her, sliding to their ass on the step.
“Spencer, if you’re going to tell me this is taking seven minutes off my life then please can it wait for another day-” Bugsy started with a tearful cadence, only to be cut off by a woman’s voice. 
“I was actually going to ask if you had a lighter,” Erin Strauss said, pulling her own menthol cigarette between her lips, and Bugsy dug around her pocket for the cheap ‘I <3 Virginia’ lighter she had snagged on New Years, clicking the flame out long enough for her boss’s boss to light the tip, “I heard you gave Aaron a shock,”
Bugsy stayed silent, taking a drag that burnt her lips and tasted awful, but it was the only thing she could turn to that would calm her even in the slightest, even if it was just the chemicals.
“Bit of an understatement,” She mused, exhaling softly with a frown, “Did you know?” 
“Are you going to slap me too if I said yes?” Erin asked, and Bugsy gave a small, wet chuckle, shaking her head, “Would it matter if I did?”
 “No, I guess not,” She replied, breathing in through her nose, “I want to feel sorry, but all I feel is just … empty. Why did JJ and Hotch know what happened to her but she didn’t think to tell her own sister?”
“Probably because you’re the one she loves the most,” Strauss picked over the hem of her navy blue midi dress that had been pressed neatly just that morning, and now here she was sitting on the steps to her building helping a girl in crisis chainsmoke, “It was how she ended up there in the first place, right? Because she wanted to protect you,” 
 “She left me torturing myself for months that her death was all my fault; believe me protection was not what I needed,” Bugsy said harshly, her final drag reaching the brown stub, and she scowled as she doubted it on the concrete floor below her, tucking her knees up to her face and resting her head on them. 
Erin sighed, patting her on the back gently, not wanting to cross any lines for such a fragile girl, but not wanting to leave her entirely alone either. 
“Our most basic instinct is not for survival but for family.” Strauss quoted, taking one more breath of her own cigarette before she squished it under her heel quickly. “Paul Pearsall,”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bug asked quietly, tilting her head onto her cheek to look over at the woman.
“It means you can hate her as much as you can right now, but sooner or later, you’re going to need her, or she’s going to need you, and you’ll wish you never pushed each other away,” 
2. The one where you pretend to be a couple.
Her hair was shorter, Bugsy noted, where she saw the back of her sister’s head from her desk. It looked nice, not that she would tell her that. 
She wouldn’t tell her anything. 
It had been eight weeks, three of which Bugsy had spent taking a leave of absence and been forced to see the designated federal councillor for her behaviour towards Hotch. She had gone to the handful of sessions to keep him off her back, but had stayed quiet for most of them, except the one where she got the psychologist to tell her the dirt on her recent, messy break up so they’d have something to talk about at least.
She had only really been speaking to Spencer the weeks since she had returned to work, had handed the slip of paper that declared her fit to work to Hotch with a smug look on her face, daring him to extend her sick leave as punishment for the tantrum she’d thrown. 
She knew it was dragging, knew most of the team were at least trying to adjust to the shellshock of Emily being back from the dead, but then again, the rest of the team hadn’t been writing their own eulogy so the burden wouldn’t fall onto someone else if they ever found her unresponsive. 
In the time Emily had supposedly been dead, her mind had wandered someone cold and dark and alone. Worse than any of them had ever thought it had been, worse than they gave her credit for. 
Only for it to be fake. As though she was the star of her own Truman show, with a laugh track playing on loop in the back; her own friends, people she’d considered family, watching her kicking and screaming and fighting through every breath for some sort of relief from the pain, a pawn in their little sitcom of horrors. 
Morgan had forgiven her sister with little resistance. She’d always known that, to Morgan, trust was higher than anything in his books. Yet with some soft words and tears shed, Derek had cracked and accepted Emily back warmly like nothing had happened. Rossi and Penelope had just been happy to see her, happy to have her back and very much not dead, so convincing them she was innocent had been no big feat. The only other person who had put up nearly as much fight as her had been Spencer. He had told her about the spat he and JJ had gotten into for being an accomplice to their pain, but even he was beginning to warm back up to her sister, not that she could really blame him. 
Emily was putting in overtime trying to get back into her good books, while she couldn’t even stand to look at her without remembering how hard she’d cried when she realised Nico and Sergio would be in her apartment alone and confused if she had been sad enough to do something rash. 
“Good Morning,” Emily’s voice was nails in a chalkboard, two arms winding over her shoulder to plonk two take out coffees in front of her and Spencer, one with his name written in black ink on the lid and the other with a dozen hearts dotted over the cup, a little doodle of a lady bug and a bumble bee cuddling. What she supposed was meant to be the two of them. 
Spencer watched Bugsy fight the urge to roll her eyes, surprisingly somewhat progress for her since the first two weeks of Emily even being near her resulted in the two of them screaming at one another until they were separated. Emily was growing tired of being punished for trying to keep her sister safe, Bugsy was full of hatred for every lie they had told her. 
But he saw the way she immediately knocked the coffee into the trash without a second thought, ignoring the fact she would need to take out a very heavy and wet bin liner later, if only to drive the point home to her older sister. I don’t want your charity. 
Emily faltered for a second, her eyes snapping to him as if he could do or say anything to help her out, but he could only give her one of his awkward, straight smiles, because he had absolutely no intention of pushing Bugsy to heal any faster than she was doing like everyone else was, nor did he want Emily to feel like he didn’t care she was hurting too.
Emily gave a resigned nod, daring to pat her sister on the shoulder. “Better in the trash than thrown over my face, right?”
She moved away from the woman’s desk, shooting a disheartened look at Reid as she passed him and he murmured ‘thankyou’ for his own coffee, until the sound of JJ calling them into the round table room cut off whatever she was going to say back. 
Spencer thoughtlessly handed Bugsy his own latte, smothered with caramel and cream the way he liked it, and she took an appreciative sip without a word. 
He hadn’t brought up that night, hadn’t spoken about the way she’d pressed her lips to his for a split second the night Morgan had dragged her over to his apartment to sober up. And because she hadn’t brought it up either, he assumed she didn’t want to talk about it anymore than she wanted to talk about what had got her there in the first place. 
He had helped her brush her own teeth more than once in the early days of her grief, hell he had even had her lips against his, so when she handed him the coffee cup back, he didn’t think much of it when he continued drinking the hot caffeinated goodness. 
Bugsy was wired differently in his brain, everything about her was different than how he felt about everyone else. So if she didn’t want to talk about kissing him, if she wanted to forget it ever happened, then he would swallow his feelings and accept she didn’t ever want to do it again. If she wanted to keep the bond they had carefully crafted through days and months and weeks of being each other’s solace, then he wouldn’t fight it. Because he didn’t want to ruin it either. 
He just nudged her gently with his shoulder as they meandered up the stairs to the round table room, looking at her with the puppy dog eyes that usually followed her around when she was in one of her silent moods. 
“You okay?” He asked carefully, noting the way she tugged her files to her chest, smiling up at him nevertheless. Because she could never be mad at him, it was Spencer. 
“You don’t have to do that, you know?” She said, lowering her voice as Morgan trailed behind the two of them his own mug of fresh brewed coffee sloshing in his hand, “Pretend like you don’t forgive her for my sake. I want you to be friends again if that’s what you want,”
She’d noticed his sheepish glances when he met Emily’s gaze, unmoving from her side like he wanted to make it clear he was there for her above everything else. But she saw how he would smile and joke with her sister when he thought she was in the bathroom, or when they would return from a crime scene, working together again like a well oiled machine. 
They were still friends, even if she felt sick every time she saw her sister’s noir black bangs flick her way, even if her heart was aching and her chest heavier than she would have ever let on. 
“But you’re upset with her?” Spencer muttered back, with a frown on his face, “I’m upset you got so hurt by the whole thing. I’m essentially hurt by proxy,” 
She snickered, leaning into his side for a moment, pulling away when they reached Rossi’s office and began walking past the long window she saw everyone settling down behind, “I appreciate that, Spence, I do. But you were her friend first, and she’s my sister. It’s different for you guys. And it’s not like we’re dating, because then I’d be allowed to be upset if you were still friends with her,” She explained lightly, though she felt her chest pick up at the very fact she had let that silly little dating word slip past her lips. 
She had no idea where they were. He was the only thing keeping her together some days, the only one who understood her for all her silly, complex feelings and didn’t make her feel dumb or crazy for feeling the world so deeply. He was special to her in a way no guy had ever even come close. 
She just wished she hadn’t made such an idiot of herself that night with Morgan; wished she remembered anything of what was said or done, because things had felt electrified since then and she had no idea why. All she knew was she was falling harder for him every time he stood so close, or offered her his drink, or every time they had a movie night at his and fell asleep on his couch pressed together like they were meant to be that way forever. 
He sighed, still stuck on the situation, and shot her a frown, “I’ll never understand the rules,” Though he hoped she didn’t see how his cheeks tinged pink at the fact she’d brought up whatever it was between them too. 
Because he wasn’t entirely talking about her and Emily. Sometimes, he really didn’t understand the rules of telling your best friend you were in love with her. 
-
The press was calling him “The Circle of Eight killer,” no matter how much media liaison JJ had tried to do to stop them from giving him notoriety and possibly boosting an already inflated ego. But the team had already managed to profile that the killings were some sort of ritual the UnSub was using to turn his luck on a gambling addiction, or whatever suspicion he had mentally linked from the victims needing to die and being dealt a royal flush. 
“Eighty eight dollars, the UnSub’s getting generous,” She said grimly, her gloved fingers counting the wad of cash tossed over the victim’s body. Where they had usually found eight, single dollar bills and an eight card of any suit, his signature seemed to have changed on the most recent body and he had dumped a much larger sum of money, “There’s more remorse with this kill too; shot from behind so he didn’t have to see the victim when he did it,”
Bugsy slipped the cash into a clear baggie to send to forensics to see if they could pull prints, but then again bills usually gave a million possible UnSubs with how many people touched them. “There’s less rage here, an undoing,” Emily chimed in, her own gloved fingers checking the victim’s pockets for anything off. 
When they were in the field, Bug could hold her eye rolls and sharp tongue and resting bitch face for the sake of helping the victim’s families find closure. Because, despite how much she seethed in private about how Hotch, JJ and her own sister had conspired without her, she knew she could choke it down if it meant she could help someone, if it meant no one else had to grieve as deeply and gut wrenching as she had when Emily ‘died’. 
“There’s no sign of robbery either, wallet is still intact except his ID,” Spencer added, standing back from the body while Bugsy handed the evidence off to CSI and the chief on the case headed their way. 
“Is it even the same guy?” Agent Goslin asked, looking between Hotch and Emily for an explanation, Hotch shaking his head with a stoney look on his already tired face. 
“The ritual’s too similar to discount,” He said, Bugsy frowning and tugging her lip between her teeth in thought. 
“The change in MO makes sense if the UnSub is still refining his system, maybe killing the cashier at the gas station didn’t work so he’s back to the drawing board.” Emily speculated, her little sister nodding along with her in the first sign of agreement she’d seen all day. 
“Two eights instead of one could also be significant; I know in China the number eight symbolises prosperity, the more eights the better. As a matter of fact, in Chengdu, a telephone number consisting of all eights recently sold for over a quarter of a million dollars,” Spencer said, and Bugsy flashed a look up at him, her eyes thoughtful. 
“In ancient Egypt, the number seven represented completion in this life while the number eight represented success through ambition and determination in your reincarnated life,” She replied, peeling the gloves down her hands as they clung to her skin with tight clamminess, “And the eight pointed star is associated with the Babylonian goddess, Ishtar, or the light bringer,”
He nodded with her and he hated to admit that he loved that she managed to fill in the gaps in his own knowledge, like they were two puzzle pieces finding a way to fit together; like they were two halves cleaved from the same brain that hadn’t stopped growing in the entirety of her twenty seven years. 
That, and he’d always found her brain one of the most attractive things about her. One of the long list he could think of. 
“Why would he be doubling up on his luck out here, away from all the casinos?” Emily asked, because she was trying not to stand in awe of her sister’s fat brain that rivalled even their pretty boy. 
“There’s been another killing,” Agent Goslin stated, hanging up the phone with a tense frown on her face, “A guest in his room at the Sapphire Lady,” 
“Same ritual?” Hotch asked without a pause, because they were on body number five now and they were barely closer to understanding him than they were a few hours ago.
“No. His neck was broken. And he was robbed of $50,000.” Goslin replied, shaking her head, “Strange thing is? The killer left another $20,000 behind with the body,” 
“Money isn’t his motive here,” Bugsy input, crossing her arms while Hotch got on the phone to Garcia, “Atleast, not that guy’s money,”
“Garcia, is there a casino in the neighbourhood of Penrose and Morningside Avenue?” He asked, clicking the perky woman onto speakerphone. 
They heard a quick clatter of typing, “Uhhh, No casinos per se, but there’s a private gambling establishment right around the corner.” She replied helpfully, with another bout of her long, delicately painted nails against her keyboard. 
“Is it legal?”
“Yeah, but it’s ultra exclusive. They have a monthly high-stakes poker tournament,” She paused for a second, “Today being the day for the month, coincidentally enough,”
“Or no coincidence at all,” Emily said, as they began putting together exactly where this chain of events had come from.
“What’s the buy in?” Bugsy asked, though she already guessed the answer. 
“Yikies, $50,000,” And with that Bug and Reid exchanged a knowing look, her suspicion confirmed, “But, it’s a million dollar guarantee if you win,”
“What time does it start?” Hotch asked, Bugsy already rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingertip, willing herself not to be right about what they were going to do. 
“Later this evening,” Pen replied and Hotch thanked her, hanging up the phone. A second of silence spread around the crime scene. 
“So, if anyone’s got fifty k lying around, now would be a great time to share with the group,” Busgy humoured herself with a straight face, realising the paperwork that would almost definitely be declined if Strauss had anything to say about it the would enable them to borrow fifty thousand from the government. 
Because if they missed their chance tonight, she had no clue when they would get another. 
“Any luck?” JJ asked, Emily sat to her right, Rossi across from her. Spencer and Bugsy sat on the end of the table, the girl breaking a KitKat in half to share with him, which he accepted happily. 
“No, they don’t want to allocate emergency funds for the buy-in, I’m still working on it,” Hotch said shortly, his phone blowing up with messages, no doubt needing a lot more details if they were really going to get the money they needed. 
“Well, I can’t imagine why not, we’re only asking for fifty thousand bucks of taxpayer money, so that FBI agents can play Texas Hold ‘em,” Rossi drawled, shaking his head with a cynical humour that was all they had to hold onto while they waited in limbo. 
“Hey, what about you?” Emily asked, something mischievous in her eyes as she watched David freeze in his seat, so like the old Emily that Bugsy felt her stomach turn.
“What about me what?” David said with a frown, pausing in his writing for a moment. 
“You could stake us the buy-in,” She suggested, and the other three members of the team turned their attention back to Rossi’s palling face. 
“You’re a best selling author,” Spencer chimed in, devouring the last of the chocolatey biscuit snack as she pulled another out of her bag. 
“No,” Rossi replied, slightly wide eyed at the suggestion of it, to which Emily jumped in. 
“Why not?” 
“One, it’s against regulations and I’d like to hold onto this job for a little while longer.” David said, his arms out in a defensive stance towards the four people who suddenly felt like his kids asking for the newest IPhone on the market for Christmas. 
“It’s a minor administrative violation,” Bugsy pointed out between bites, offering the second half again to her best friend who took it without delay. 
She could have given the whole thing to him to start with, and had the first one for herself, it would have ended the same, but she liked sharing with him. She liked being the one to split things with him when he cringed in horror at other people touching his food.
“And, two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things, like single malt scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork,”
“Poker chips are things!” Emily tried to reason, but it only ended with David scoffing in her cheeky, hopeful face. 
“Maybe just think of it as a new experience, I mean at your age how often does that happen?” Spencer said innocently, licking the chocolate from the tips of his fingers, noticing how Bugsy tensed up and Rossi slowly turned in his seat to face the BAU’s youngest members. 
“At my what?” He asked in an aghast tone, Bug grabbing onto Spencer’s forearm with a gentle squeeze. 
“Reel it in, reel it in,” She whispered, and he looked at her with a lost expression, willing her to explain to him where he had gone wrong, because he knew she would, “What he meant to say was this may be our only chance to get this guy,”
David chewed his words for a second, as if he was trying not to bite at the kids who looked between one another hopefully, and he wondered if this was what being a father felt like; handing his credit card over to two twenty something year olds and watching his bank deposit plummet in seconds. 
“All right. Fine.” He sighed heavily like he’d seen the fifty thousand burned there and then, “I’m a decent poker player, but I can’t promise that I can stay in the game long enough to…”
“You know what? I bet you’re a great poker player,” Emily started kindly, her gaze drifting over to the hazel hues that watched between them curiously, “But what if we sent in Reid?”
“I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin and Pahrump because of my card counting ability,” Spencer said, and Bugsy rolled her eyes. 
“They can’t ban you for maths, that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard,” She said, nudging his side with her shoulder, “They hate to see an underdog win, it’s Rocky all over again,” 
“Tell me about it,” He murmured back, even though he had never watched any of the Rocky movies, he just liked humouring her. 
“Look I know I’m not a genius like the boy wonder here, but poker is not black jack. It’s about bluffing; reading human nature, head games.” Rossi pointed at Reid, who badgered over Bugsy’s shoulder for the cookies she had packed in her rucksack, “The kid does not have a poker face.”
“Which is why we’re going to send him with someone who does,” JJ chimed in, and it was then that the youngest members of the team looked up from where they had cracked open the packet of chocolate chip delights, near identical looks of innocence painted on their faces, like they really were kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. 
Bugsy looked between JJ and Rossi, who had equal parts hopeful and worried looks on their faces, before she glanced over to Spencer to see if he had any explanation. He looked as lost as she did. 
“Huh?” She asked cluelessly, as Rossi buried his head in his hands. 
At this rate was going to have to remortgage his house for wedding number four, he thought sourly. 
“I swear to god if this dress rides up anymore, it will be me who’s charging fifty thousand per head,” Bugsy growled, her hands frantically tugging the dress down her legs more. She couldn’t deny it was a beautiful dress, bunched around certain areas that made the most of her body, but goodness was it shorter than she would have ever picked out for herself. She was the last person to be a prude when it came to showing off just how alluring she could look when she made an effort, but this was something else. 
It was a striking red, meant to match the ruby of her lipstick and the vermillion of the diamonds and hearts on the cards spread around the tables in the room, flushed in between little plastic chips worth thousands of dollars, handfuls of dice being tossed over the green velvet surfaces, deciding whether the players lost their cars or paid off their kids college fund. 
They queued up to be patted down, as if they were heading through airport security or into a packed nightclub. A handful of bouncers waved metal detectors over patron’s clothing, dipping hands into coat pockets, trousers, even some shoes were ordered off in the name of a fair game. She swore she had never seen so many sets of weighted dice confiscated off one man who swore blind as he was kicked out. 
“Only fifty? You could rinse them for a hundred at least,” Spencer replied, his arm entwined behind her back, if not to hold her up in the clunky heels one of the women on Goslin’s task force had loaned her along with the dress. She smirked at him, pressing herself closer to him when they both saw a dozen eyes shoot towards her as they entered the building, and he tightened his grip just the slightest with a calculating coolness. 
He wished his cheeks didn’t feel so hot feeling her body so close to his, wished she hadn’t made such an effort to look the part of the expensive call girl they knew the UnSub had a history with, not because he didn’t like it, but because she made everything a little more difficult when she looked like that. 
He was having a hard time trying to calm the way his manhood brushed against his pants whenever she showed some of that saccharine affection, even though he knew it wasn’t real. Or atleast, was an extreme version of the love she usually showed him. 
The bouncers called them up next, and he let her go first, because getting her through would be easy. He was the one with the panic alarm disguised as a shot of Halitosis in his pocket. 
Spencer would never admit that his eyes fell straight down to the curves of her butt that seemed to be spotlighted by that damn dress. 
Why did she have to look so irresistible? He supposed that was the point; he was the mysterious young gambler that was going to keep them in the game long enough to spot the UnSub, she was the attractive, woman of the night brought only to boost his ego and as his good luck charm. She certainly wasn’t the only one, she’d already seen a handful of other women, tall as models and so toned it looked as though they hit the gym every morning and didn’t leave until sundown, primped and primed for their player’s delight. 
They were ten times better looking than she was, but to Spencer, she was the only woman in the room who he was envisioning ripping that dress right off. 
She was making it very hard, no pun intended, for him to accept the idea of them as just friends. 
The bouncer patted her down, Bugsy flashing him a cheeky smile just a little too forced for it to be one of her real ones, when the woman patted around her waist and hips for any hidden pockets or stashed bills. 
“You wish this was you, huh, baby?” She teased him with a wicked look in her eyes, and he could only smirk back, hoping his blush didn’t give him away as quick as he reckoned it did. 
He felt his knees weaken, worrying he might just fall to the ground there and then and be forced to crawl towards her if he had any hope of getting into the casino alive, but even that sent a new wave of lewd thoughts through his head, and he was grateful when the other bouncer called him forward to inspection. 
The muscled guy waved a metal detector over his torso, moving down to his trouser legs where he wondered with cynical humour if the rod he now sported in his pants painfully would set off the alarm. It didn’t, and he begged his crotch to let up even the slightest if he had any hope of keeping his head on his shoulders during this game, but the detector sprung to life the minute it waved over the alarm in his pocket. 
He produced the medical looking device, one they’d already planned and checked for faults, showing the fake prescription clearly to the guard, “Halitosis,” 
The guy seemed to frown, took another look over the gangly guy who was with a woman way, way out of his league. A woman who waited for him after her own inspection, a very real diamond necklace that had been a sixteenth birthday present from Steph around her neck, courtesy of her dad’s bank account and ten years worth of emotional distance. Whether he took pity on Spencer because Bugsy looked like the kind of girl who could chew up a guy like him and spit him right back out, or he really didn’t care about his medical condition, he didn’t know, but he waved him through without another thought, and they both took a sigh of relief. 
“You want a drink?” He asked nonchalantly as possible, wrapping his arm around her waist again, and he tried to not let his flustered demeanour show when he found slits cut into the side of the fabric, and he felt the softness of her hips under his fingertips. 
“My treat, to get you started,” Bugsy replied, something unreadable in the teasing of her eyes, and she leaned up to his jaw to steal a quick kiss there like any other girl wanting to be paid the full sum of her night would have done. 
At least that’s what she told herself, pretending as if her brazen action hadn’t caused her heart rate to spike. 
She got him an iced tea, because she knew he wouldn’t want alcohol, and got herself a half shot Moscow Mule, sipping the lime rim appreciatively. 
“See anything yet?” She asked under her breath, one hand trailing over the back of his neck, playing with the curls that sat there with vixen sly eyes that scanned the room. 
He forced himself not to moan at the sensation, and he worried it was too obvious to the other patrons in the gambling room just how easily he melted beneath her fingertips. He felt like a dog drooling after a bone, like she was shaking a lead in his face and asking for walkies, and he was panting beneath her, tail wagging and dopey eyed. 
Not the look of suave, mysterious stranger they were initially going for when they were coming up with identities for their covers. But at least it sold the part of a man desperate to win the jackpot if it meant he could spend the night with the siren woman that clung to him with a giggly sip of her pink straw. 
“No one looking particularly suspicious,” He noted; everyone was almost too good at a poker face, though he supposed that it made sense seeing the value of the prize pool, “You are getting a lot of attention however,” 
And she was. In fact, he was quick to take her hand in his own free one when he saw a group of men dressed to the nines, solid gold rings along their knuckles, diamond encrusted Rolexs staring back at him from their wrists, their faces dead yet starved when they drank in every inch of her skin, their eyes falling to where her dress rode up high, as she had whined about the entire way there. 
She chuckled, and something about it sounded like her own, not the woman she’d had to become for the evening, and she kissed where his jaw clenched in annoyance, “Not from anyone that matters, boy wonder,” 
And he felt his heart rest for a moment, because as long as she was with him he knew he could shift that big brain of his into gear. He loved nothing more than the click he felt when he was with her, like their brains and bodies just seemed to bluetooth to one another and they weren’t Spencer and Bugsy they were just them. A since cell amoeba. 
He smiled at her, and she preened under his attention, so genuinely her that he felt the vignette that had clouded his vision shift into focus, and he knew he could find their UnSub if she was there with him. 
He sat at the nearest table to them that was about to deal in, and within twenty minutes he was racking up a nice, fat pile of poker chips next to his iced tea.
Bugsy knew he was a smart man, knew he was good at magic tricks, but if he had turned to her then and there and pulled a rabbit out her ear hole she wouldn’t have questioned him otherwise. Watching him play was something else. 
It was entirely sordid, the whole hour of his first game was spent trying to keep her focus on any patrons sat at their table and the rest that seemed to be twitching, whilst also trying not to look awed at just how amazing his brain was when he won damn near every time. 
But she did manage to rip her eyes off him when she could, not enough to seem suspicious, just enough to scan the area for someone who could be their UnSub, her eyes quickly jumping to the guy on the table across from them with a large magic 8-ball tattoo across his bicep, unsurprisingly already looking her head to toe as he waited for his hand to be dealt out. He winked at her, a smarmy, cocky grin on his face, almost too confident in his ability to be someone to turn to suspicions and rituals in order to win. 
A serious contender, but nothing that screamed their UnSub. 
She looked around a little more, ignoring the handful of men who tried to grab her attention, who thought they were somewhat validated or interesting for having her look at them for a split second. They were just part of the wallpaper compared to Spencer anyway. 
It wasn’t until she spotted a guy in a baseball cap a few paces away from them fiddling with yet another magic 8-ball, though this time a key chain, giving it a gentle touch every time he picked up his hand as if it really had the power to change the values once they’d been dealt. 
From the quick glance she got of his face, he seemed to be running on an hour’s sleep tops. His eyes were rimmed redder than her lipstick, and his hair was damp with sweat and grease against his temple. 
Unstable if there ever was a man for the word.
She quickly looked back to Spencer’s cards, her hands weaving over his shoulders to rub his muscles gently, the signal that she’d seen something important masked as an affectionate gesture. 
The House called the end of the round, Spencer being awarded a heaped pile of tens, hundreds even a small few thousands thrown in there, to which he collected onto his tray they had handed him at the door. 
Bugsy leaned down with a girlish squeal, giving him another big, cherry lipped kiss to his cheek, to which he felt himself blush under immediately. Quickly dodging to whisper into his ear, it looked to the other patrons as if she was simply promising him an even bigger reward later for his winnings in exchange, “Nine O’Clock at table two, guy in the green jacket has an eight ball keyring he ritually plays with before drawing,” 
Spencer nodded, standing from the table with his winnings, using Bugsy’s as an excuse to angle himself to where she was talking about. He pulled her to him effortlessly, his long arms wrapping over her bare back, his neck craning over her shoulder to serveill the table she had indicated, and she quickly hugged him back with that fake giggle of hers, her body pressing to his desperately like the other ladies of the night he had seen with men three times their age. 
He clocked who she was talking about almost immediately, running a hand down her spine and squeezing her waist gently to let her know he’d seen him. 
They moved in tandem, just like they always had. 
A hostess came over to them, all big smiles and a tight fitted black dress, a log book in her arms of where everyone was sitting in the next round to keep a fair game. Bugsy took a look at him, wiping away the smudged lipstick on his cheek with a loving swipe of her thumb, nodding at him for a small bout of reassurance. 
“I’m going to go get another drink, honey,” She said loud enough for the hostess to hear, as she flashed him a flirty smile, “Don’t forget to wait for your lucky charm,” 
He bristled, a smile twitching at his lips at that, “I wouldn’t dare,” 
Because her message was clear. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m updating the team. 
She swanned through the crowd as if she owned the place, but then again a packed scene had never been an issue for her. She felt through her concealed inseam of the tiny cardigan she draped over her shoulders, until she felt the long bullet shaped object stuffed into a tampon wrapper that Penelope had geniously planted there to look like a feminine product. 
Her own alarm, the one meant to let the team know they had sights on the guy and to be ready. It was Spencer’s that would give them the signal to enter. 
She was fiddling with the damn thing when she felt it, a sharp crack across her ass as she was walking towards the bar, heard the laughter in the second she froze up. 
Turning on her heel with a tight expression, the anger burnt hot in her eyes when she saw the guy with the tattoo who had been trying to get her attention not even a half hour ago, watched him sidling up to her with a conceited smile. 
“So, has that twiglet over there paid for you in advance or are you going home with the highest bidder?” He said, his head flicking to Spencer who now sat at table two, counting his chips out onto the table and paying himself in. 
She smiled at the assailant widely, and it would have been pretty had it not been for the crazy look in her eye that twitched when he made a move to step towards her more. 
“I’m spoken for in advance,” She said lightly, eyes trailing down his outfit like she was trying to commit it to memory, over his defining markers like the slit in his brow and his tattoos that looped over his hands, “But I’m sure I’ll be seeing you real soon, sweetheart,” 
And she flashed him a toothy smile again, yet something was wolfish about it this time, like she was ready to lunge for him there and then. 
The guy wasn’t their UnSub but he had made it to the very top of her hit list in a split second decision. 
She waltzed away, securing herself another Moscow Mule she had no intention of drinking, and headed back to where Spencer was being allotted his hand of cards.  Their round started, Bugsy keeping a close eye on the UnSub who sat directly to Spencer’s right, and she found a little solace in the fact he couldn't have brought in any weapons since they had all been patted down at the door. 
It didn’t shake the feeling of edge the guy with the tattoo had put her into when she watched their guy flick a look over Spencer’s shoulder to look her head to toe, glancing back at Spence who was already glaring at him. 
“Is she part of the winnings?” The other guy to his right chimed in, sliding a stack of hundred dollar chips into the centre, two of the players already bust as they watched the others play on for the house. 
She saw her partner tense in his spine when he heard the man’s drawling voice, and she knew he was struggling to keep a lid on the facade they were putting on for the evening. 
Snickering, she ran a gentle hand through his hair, down the nape of his neck with a sickeningly sweet simper, “Sorry, boys. Only person who’s taking me home tonight is the pretty boy,”
One of the guys who had already busted out scoffed, grumbling under his breath, “Lucky fucker,”
And Spencer knew it too. He felt almost rejuvenated just feeling her near, a damn near cocky smile on his face when he pushed his chips into the centre of the table, barely flicking a glance at his hand when he realised he had almost certainly secured a winning run. 
Maybe she was his lucky charm, he thought cynically. Maybe he couldn’t blame the guy to his right for carrying a silly little trinket around with him in the name of luck if he was no better. 
“I’m calling,” The guy on the far right declared, shuffling two piles of his chips into the middle with the total pooling. 
“I’ll raise,” The UnSub cut in, grabbing some of his black thousand dollar tokens and clinking them one by one next to his opponents, “Eight thousand,”
What a surprise, eight thousand, Bug mused, squeezing onto Spencer’s shoulder again as he was quick to match the bidding and then some with his own checks. 
“$8,000, that’s fifty six months’ wage for the average person in Bangladesh,” Spencer said, doubling the bet with a flick of those long fingers of his. It was heinous how much his brain managed to warm her insides, Bugsy thought, hoping she kept her poker face intact, “Kind of makes you think, doesn’t it?”
The two remaining players, UnSub included, looked at him like he’d grown a second head, and Bugsy fought off the urge to laugh in their face, because for a minute he was so Spencer like all she wanted to do was quip something back equally as smart. 
“Look, it’s eight thou’ to you, are you in or are you out?” The first man snapped, perhaps seethin with jealousy that the pretty woman wanted nothing to do with him or perhaps just pissed that the fresh faced teenager of a man was serving their asses up cold. 
“I am in,” He moved some more chips towards them, his eyes falling back to the guy they suspected was their UnSub with a challenge in his eyes, “And I raise,”
“Three raise,” The dealer declared, and the first guy huffed in defeat. 
“That’s too rich for my blood,” He growled, crossing his arms and flipping his dead cards over. 
“Sir, are you in?” The dealer asked the UnSub, and for a minute his eyes snapped to Bugsy’s where she was keeping a calm look on her face despite the fact her insides were stumbling with nerves. But she never doubted Spencer’s maths, she would stake her life on it in fact. 
“I’ll call,” The UnSub replied, flicking his cards over with another small token of a hundred, an okay run of cards but not an entire failure. 
Spencer met it with a couple hundreds of his own, revealing his four and his eight that met the five, six, and seven he already put down. A winning flush. “Straight.” 
Her smile was genuine, dazzling, when the pile of chips were pushed over to him, and she would have laughed with glee had the UnSub’s face not dropped into something devastated, borderline demented, when he saw his ritual had meant nothing. That he had lost despite killing his own friend and four more people as a sacrifice. 
He was unravelling fast, and it was then Bugsy knew they had only moments to confirm he was their guy obsessed with his suspicions and that damn lucky number eight. 
“I guess you won’t be needing this anymore, will you honey?” Bugsy reached over for the charm with a cheeky grin as the other patrons grumbled at their losses, only for the guy’s hand to come slamming down on top of hers with a brutal grip, hard enough she knew it was going to bruise by morning. 
“Don’t,” He hissed at her, and it seemed to click with confirmation in Spencer and Bugsy’s mind there was no doubt this was their guy.
Spencer stood up to defend the woman, only for both of them to be grabbed by security second’s later. 
“You’re going to let a man put his hands on a woman like that- would you relax I can walk,” Spencer snapped, watching the other security guard manhandle Bugsy just as roughly, pinning her arms behind her back, though she complied with a victorious grin, “Real tough there pal, grabbing on a woman half your size,” 
“Relax honey, I got a taser in my pocket if they really want to behave like bad boys,” The bouncers looked at her in alarm, and it was the distraction Spencer needed to reach into his jacket and trigger the signal. She gave the three of them a shit eating grin, and Spencer thought he might just love her even more, “Don’t shit your pants, I’m kidding. I charge extra for the rough stuff,”
Spencer was still laughing when Hotch and Emily barged past them after the UnSub, who was by now leaving out the back door. 
“Spencer, really, we can go back to the hotel and forget about it,” After revealing their cover with the bouncers, courtesy of one David Rossi and his famous face clearing their names, and the UnSub caught and well on the way to the nearest jail cell for questioning, Bugsy was more than tired and ready to strip out of the impossibly tight dress. 
“I want to see this guy brought to justice, think of him as another UnSub,” Spencer said, his arms crossed over his chest as they sat on the bonnet of a squad car out the front of the building, the tournament slowly trickling to an end with its patrons leaving for the night. 
She rolled her eyes, his jacket over her arms the only thing keeping her warm against the evening air. It would have been so much easier if they had been allowed back in, but FBI agents or not, the guards had clear rules against breaching the peace in such a high stakes game. A bad rep for having the feds show up on their busiest day of the year was not welcomed, just as much as they weren’t. 
“Except he’s not murdered anyone,” She replied, eyes darting between the guests leaving with their earnings spilling out of their pockets, “He’s just some dumb asshole who can’t keep his hands to himself and- it’s him,”
The guy with the tattoos, Mike Folio as would later be printed on the police report, had barely a second to grieve his losses of the night before Spencer had him cuffed against the squad car, yelling and spitting about his rights as an American citizen. 
It wasn’t until he saw the gorgeous woman donned in the candy red dress looking down at him with amusement that he felt the colour drain from his face. 
“Hi sweetheart,” She smiled viciously, “I told you I’d see you again. Spence, read him the Mirandas,” 
3. The one with the bank explosion
The tweed trousers irritated her thighs, the head band fluffed her hair away from her face in a way she kept trying to fix, and the brown pumps squeaked every time she walked, but her smile was dazzling nevertheless. 
“Okay, the TV movie is at Hall H at nine, can we go to that?” Penelope asked, reading from the pamphlet as Bugsy and Spencer all but ran to keep up with her. 
“Absolutely!” Spencer chimed in, “Do you think we can make it to the Captains of Enterprise at eleven?”
“Obvs,” Penny replied, fixing the bow tie necklace her and Bugsy had made not even the week before. She looked over at the younger woman, who had a matching K-9 pendant, because apparently FBI salaries did not take into account life sized robot dogs, “Thanks for coming with me,” 
“Ofcourse, I’ve been knitting this scarf for weeks,” Spencer replied, his eyes falling down to where Bugsy donned a Sarah Jane Smith cosplay. 
“Who are you going as?” She’d asked, the minute he’d asked her to go, because there were few things he did these days without her. 
“The Fourth Doctor,” Spencer replied, because he had explained in length to her about the concept of regenerating and had even flicked on some of the newer series for her to watch with him, “Tom Baker’s Doctor, he’s a fan favourite,” 
He showed her a picture of the time lord stood outside the TARDIS, a younger girl stood opposite him in a pink suit, large white peter pan collar hanging wide over her chest. 
“Who’s that?” She asked, pointing the girl with the cute bangs and pleated skirts. 
“That’s Sarah-Jane, or Sarah-Jane Smith. She’s one of the longest starring companions since she was the Third Doctor’s companion first and also was in the spin off show for her dog, K-9,” He explained, warming inside when Bugsy listened with raptured interest. 
“So like, is she his girlfriend or-”
“No, no! The Doctor is often speculated to be asexual when it comes to relations with humans. Sarah Jane was one of his closest friends however, and in the Tenth Doctor’s third season he even comes back to rescue her from a wedding set up by one of his enemies,” He said, and her smile pulled out widely when an idea popped into her head. 
“Well, can I be her? For your convention?” She asked, somewhat shyly, still a little unsure how the show worked in the fine details, “You know, since you saved me from my wedding?” 
He paused, because she’d never really spoken about that day she’d jumped into his arms in the elevator, holding him to her like he was the only thing that made sense. Bugsy was like that alot; giving him everything he ever dreamed in the moment and then acting like it was never a big deal the next. 
“S-sure! Yeah, that would be really nice.” He said, and she immediately started searching up what she should wear for it, “I didn’t really save you though, you know, you saved yourself,”
She snickered, nudging him with her shoulder, “You all saved me, I don’t know what I would have done if Em-” She stopped herself, swallowing thickly, and he saw the glow leave her eyes. 
If Emily hadn’t been there. 
Things were still awkward between them. There were no more catfights, thank goodness, though there also wasn’t any doting between the sisters anymore. It was like a clean break had slit between them. Emily had given up trying to warm to her, given up trying to get her to come around, and had instead taken the high road of waiting for Bugsy to make the first move. 
But Bugsy was nothing if not stubborn. So Emily would be waiting a while longer. 
“Hey, listen, next time I promise I’ll be the first one to object and then you can say I saved you,” Spencer joked, because he knew the subject of Emily stung her, because he knew she needed to stop thinking about it or she’d unravel into self hatred. 
She chuckled aghast, “Next time? I was kind of hoping to keep the next one, Spence, whoever the unlucky guy is,”
He shook his head, a fake look of disapprovement, “Sorry, rules are rules. You wanted to be Sarah-Jane, I have to crash your wedding with the TARDIS I’m afraid,” 
She laughed, resting her head on his shoulder as they flicked through the TV some more together. 
“Well, I mean if those are the rules,” She simpered, snuggling under his chin, “Does this mean I get a sick robo-dog too?”
She looked every bit the part he would have ever expected her to look. Down to the maroon tie, and the white dress shirt, and the matching tweed blazer and pants that made her look embarrassingly hot. 
He was about to tell her just how great she looked because she still seemed unsure, being a casual fan of the show not nearly as religious as some of the surrounding guests were, when Penelope cut them off in a near gutted voice. 
“Oh my god,”
“Penelope?” 
Bugsy and Spencer looked up to see Penelope’s ex beau, Kevin, dressed in a nearly identical outfit to her (though in Bug’s opinion he didn’t have the same pzazz as she did with the glitter and the sparkliness,) a red headed woman beside him donned in a police woman uniform. 
“Kevin, hi, you came,” The blonde woman replied, her face mortified as she took in just how pretty the other woman was, “And you brought a friend, CSU technician Sharp, how are you?”
Hannah Sharp, from two floors below them in the BAU, grinned tightly, as if she could sense just how disastrous the situation had suddenly become, “I’m fine, uh, you?”
Bugsy gripped onto Spence’s arm tightly, hating the turn this was taking, every second of it. 
“I am also fine,” Pen replied, though she looked as though she was ready to float outside of her body any minute now. “Okay, well, see ya,”
“You’re not gonna go in?” Kevin asked, his eyes crestfallen when he saw Penelope also grab onto the boy genius’ arm, and he cursed Spencer Reid for getting so many attractive women. 
“Actually, we just went in and it’s super lame,” Bugsy interrupted, flashing a disjointed smile at the two of them, turning to usher her best friend away before he could call her out in her lie. “So we’re leaving,”
“Oh, okay,” Kevin replied, his date all but forgotten as the three of them made a sharp exit, a wince on the youngest Prentiss’ face when they got far enough that the girl could cringe in peace, “Well, great costumes,” 
“Yeah, you too,” Penelope called back, her heels practically leaving tire marks with how fast she had sped away from her ex that was opening fresh wounds as they spoke. At work they were separated by a whole floor, so it wasn’t quite so scathing to see each other around or even hear of one another, but to be brought out in front of what she could only assume was his new woman was horrifying.
Bugsy was at her side immediately, grabbing onto her hand with a squeezing grip. 
“Well, that was awkward,” Spencer noted aloud, and Bugsy lightly slapped his arm for him to shut up, her eyes wide with worry. 
He looked at her in alarm, but her face told him everything he needed to know. Girl rules. 
He hated girl rules. He never understood them. 
“Oh my god, we used to come every year, I can’t believe he brought someone else,” Penelope sighed to the younger girl, who watched her with furrowed brows. 
“Well you brought someone else,” Spencer pointed out, only to have his arm whipped at again in a chiding motion, and he watched Bugsy stroke Pen’s back with a bite in her tone. 
“Girl rules, Spencer, girl rules,” He tutted at her, rolling her eyes as if they were a married couple and she was nagging him to wash the dishes. 
Sometimes it felt easy like that with them. Like she really was just his best friend and not the only girl who held any sort of romantic connection to his heart. 
“Yeah, someone I couldn’t possibly be attracted to,” Penelope stated, “Besides, he always thought the two of you were a thing anyway, oh god what if he thinks I’m your guys third-”
“Woah, woah, what?” Bugsy asked with wide eyes, “He thought me and Spencer were, like, dating?” 
Penelope nodded, and Bugsy couldn’t even look at him without stumbling over her words. 
“Well he knows we’re- like I mean we’re not even each other’s seconds so how could you be our third you know?” She said with a forced laugh, because she could feel her face going hot. 
Spencer watched her tongue tie herself into oblivion, thinking of any and every excuse as to why she didn’t want dating associated to the two of them. Because how could she ever feel the same way? He was just him and she was, well, her. So incredibly, beautifully her. 
It wasn’t until she bumped into an older gentleman waiting for his valet she even shut herself up. 
“And I mean Kevin shouldn’t have just assumed- oh sorry,” She whirled around to apologise the man she presumed was a fan of the early seasons of the show, perhaps even around when they first aired, though the thought died in her throat when he turned around, “Oh, Rossi?” 
David Rossi looked suave as ever in his age, a blazer thrown casually over his shoulder, a neat shirt and dress pants ensemble at his hips as he looked between the three of them, their costumes staring back at him entirely too colourful for a Saturday morning. 
He sighed, hard. 
“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” He asked with a tired voice, as Bugsy bounced back over to Spencer’s side with an incredulous look on her face. 
“Are you here for the convention?” Spencer asked, excitement bubbling in his tone as Bug grabbed his forearm gently, already sensing Rossi hadn’t had nearly enough coffee to put up with them today. 
“Who schedules a cigar aficionado event back to back with this?” Rossi asked, his eyes clamping on the pendant around her neck, “What is that, a robot dog?” 
“K-9,” The three of them replied, and it was as if it tipped him over the edge, his hair growing whiter by the second. 
“Kevin brought another woman, I’m plotting revenge. Do you want to help?” Penelope asked, her face still warm from running into the guy who was almost her fiance. 
“Know where we can get any horse heads?” Bugsy asked, her expression lost in though as Penelope gasped, “What? I’m thinking go big or go home. Also, horse head in the bed means they can't have sex-”
“I’m taking that as my cue to leave,” Rossi cut in, just as his valet arrived, “Now you know I love all three of you, but this is Saturday, and it is my day off, so I’m going to love you from afar,”
He ruffled Bugsy’s hair fondly as he took his leave, throwing his blazer over the passenger seat and bidding them a wave goodbye. 
They watched him go, wondering where it left them for a moment before Bugsy spoke up again, “So are we saying a definitive no to the horse head idea, because I’m sure I know a guy in college-”
“No, Bugsy,” Penelope hissed, her face scrunched in disgust, and Spencer swore she turned green, “Definitive no,” 
They had been half way through breakfast when Spencer got an emergency call from Hotch for a team of serial killers robbing a bank downtown, hostages and guns on scene. 
She had barely had time to whip the tweed blazer off her shoulders, keeping the shirt and pants on as Derek threw her a kevlar vest. 
“It’s definitely them,” Will said in his soft Southern drawl, JJ embracing him tightly to her with a worried expression. It had been him and his partner first on the scene, though unfortunately things had not ended well for her when they had ran into the three UnSubs slipping out the back of the bank and had engaged in a shoot out; Will’s partner getting a bullet to the head almost immediately, and Will narrowly escaping unscathed, but not before he managed to gun down one of the UnSubs in the stomach. 
So there they were, the UnSubs back inside the bank for safety since they were now surrounded by the city police, the FBI, the SWAT team and a handful of ambulances and medics on standby. 
“I only saw the King and the Jack but I figured the Queen’s inside too,” He added, JJ peeling herself from his side as they headed towards the building. 
“The media's calling them the face cards,” Hotch informed his team, all eight of them decked in their thickest vests and weapons loaded in full, “Seven bank robberies in seven months. They’ve killed one person at each robbery,” 
“MO?” Rossi asked, now dressed out of his smart, Saturday wear and something more akin to his usual business attire.
“Single gun shot wound, each of the victims has bled out,” Hotch replied, and it wasn’t until they turned the corner towards the bank did Bugsy realise just how packed the street was with law enforcement. 
Three or four choppers circled overhead with snipers and back up SWAT teams at the ready. 
“Serial killers with a thirty day cooling off period, and we’re only just hearing about this now?” Emily asked in an incredulous tone, her voice raised to accommodate the shouting between other chiefs and their units. 
“Headquarters characterised them as robbers first, killers second,” Hotch said, his hands on his hips as they all assessed the situation from afar. Naturally a few new anchors had pulled up to the scene as well and were setting up their equipment despite the officers trying to corral them away. 
“Oh yeah? How did that turn out for them?” Bugsy grumbled behind her thick, dark sunglasses, biting her lip from saying worse. 
“I disagreed with the original assessment, I was overruled,” Her chief shot back, because things had been just as cold between them since that day as they had with Emily. 
JJ was slowly reaching out the olive branch in her direction, and if it wasn’t for Henry being so darn cute every time he begged ‘Buggy’ to come play with him, she reckoned JJ would have taken even longer to forgive as well. 
“Why are we here now?” Rossi chimed in, eyes locked on Aaron’s frown, that seemed to harden every step they took closer to the bank.
“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.”
“What do we know about them?” JJ jumped in straight away with the problem solving, because even if they were out in the field and not in their pretty little round table room anymore, the UnSubs were still just pictures on a white board needing that red string to connect them all together. 
“They’re organised, they're efficient,” Hotch fired off, mentally running through whether he had loaded the pistol he kept around his calf for emergencies, “Each strike lasts about two minutes,”
Derek’s face scrunched in confusion, “They gotta be scouting out the banks in advance, why haven’t we been able to ID them off of surveillance footage?” 
“They hacked the security feed and turn off the cameras both during the initial canvas and during the robbery, until the masks come back on and then were allowed to watch” Hotch replied, and the eight of them slipped into the base of operation for the day; a wide trailer converted to house the high tech computers Penelope needed to keep an eye on the cameras with those magic skills of hers. 
Bugsy’s eyes landed on the black and white feed of inside the bank, her heart lurching in her throat when she saw well over forty men, women and children lined on their knees execution style, facing the doors to the bank to act as a shield if the snipers did happen to get a shot through the windows. 
The woman took the lead, a mask over her face with a doll-like expression on it, the other men soaked in blood as one fought to hold the injured one up for dear life. 
“Why haven’t they cut the feed now that they’ve been cornered,” Derek said with a shake of his head, his lips pulled into a grimace, “Letting us see inside gives us a tactical advantage, they have to know that,”
“Unless they want the audience,” Bugsy suggested, watching the jack slowly growing weaker and weaker as they discussed tactics, “Although the only one who really strikes me as the attention seeker is her, he seems more prioritised with the other male,”
“The masks add to their narcissism,” Spencer input with a nod, “Their personas are the royalty of poker,”
“JJ, you, Bugsy, Reid and Prentiss, look at past robberies, that’s going to be our victimology,” Hotch ordered, and they did as ordered with little delay, heading to the office they had set up in the opposite trailer. 
This was going to be a long day. 
“I can help,” Bugsy offered herself before the team even had a chance to protest. 
It hadn’t even been an hour into them pulling research from InterPol as to who their UnSubs were before they had made their next dramatic move; they had shot a hostage. 
Which meant they needed medics in there fast, fast enough to save the hostage and the jack if it kept the king from unravelling into a massacre. 
“What do you mean you can help?” Emily said with a scathing tone, “Bug, you can’t just throw yourself in harm’s way if you have no clue what you’re-”
“I did three years of a medicine degree alongside my biochemistry before I got bored of doing both and gave up on it,” Bugsy snapped at her sister, brows contorting into a harsher frown than she’d had in months. She preferred it when they weren’t speaking at all. 
“Because you were bored?” Derek asked, his face incredulous at the gall of the twenty year old they’d plucked from college and sent into the midst of the Russian Mob five years ago, “Did you not have anything better to do like partying or making out with guys- a whole medical degree on the side is your idea of downtime?” 
She shrugged, looking back at Emily with a glare who seemed to bristle at the information. 
“Can I speak to you outside please?” Emily said in the coolest tone she could muster, though even that sounded like a bite. 
Something shifted in the air of the tiny, makeshift office and the other inhabitants tensed up at the sight of the Prentiss women gritting their teeth almost identically, staring daggers at one another for a moment before they stood from their seats and waltzed out of the side of the trailer to where there wasn’t the bustle of squad cars or media to be seen. 
JJ looked to Morgan, who looked to Spencer, who seemed to have paled for a moment, and the three of them were out of their own seats to linger at the doorway in case things really did get ugly between the sisters.  
“Do you honestly think that throwing yourself into the line of danger today is a good idea or are you trying to hurt me to get back at me?” Emily seethed the minute they had stepped foot on the ground, and the scoff that left her little sister’s throat was something nasty. 
“Oh, please, don’t make yourself sound so important.” Bugsy snapped, whirling around on her heel to glare at her sister, “I’m not doing any of this to get back at you, I’m trying to save those hostages in there-” 
“So I just happened to have never heard about this medical side quest you set yourself on until now because, what, it just never came up?” Emily laughed, laughed, in her sister’s face, and Bugsy saw red even more, “I thought you were a better liar than that,”
“Maybe if you’d bothered to even speak to me before you needed something from me that day with the Russians then you would have known anything about me that wasn’t being your dumb little sister you can just walk all over like you’re my mom or something,” Bugsy’s voice was getting louder, and Emily’s smirk wiped right off at the sound of that, because she knew she could have been ten times a better sister had she not wanted to get as far away from her mother as fast as possible. “Same with Hotch, he never wanted much to do with me until his wife died and then who did he come to needing help grieving, none a single one of you, and who gets bitten in the ass and punished when I find out I spent seven months grieving like some idiot to that uptight prick who lied to me-”
“Do not speak about him like that,” Emily was shouting now too because Bugsy was truly holding nothing back on her. 
“Why? Are you going to pick him over me, Em?” The younger woman snarked, her eyes hateful and narrowed, “Wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest given your track record-”
Emily shoved her, like, truly shoved her back and it robbed the words out of the girl’s throat. Yet it made JJ gasp where they were watching from the crack in the doorway, wanting to break them apart but knowing they needed to fix it for themselves. 
The three of them hissed when Bugsy’s hand swiped against Emily’s cheek in a territory neither of them had ever wandered into. Emily was always too old to argue with her sister, too big to fight the way most siblings did with slaps and hair pulls and scratches, but Bugsy was a grown woman now; they both were. 
Emily swatted the same back to her own cheekbone, after a second of shock washing over her face, and it was like they were two cats fighting in a back alleyway over a scrap of chicken. 
Bugsy shoved at her around the tits, because she knew it would ache, Emily pulled at her braid with a yank that made Bugsy’s eyes water, the two of them banging against the wall of the trailer, their heads clunking together. 
“Fucking punishing me after months like some insolent child-”
“I would never have left you thinking you were to blame for my death- I would never fucking do this to you-”
This was childish, entirely childish, playground offences and girlish curses in between. The worst part was they knew they could do much worse, they knew they could truly hurt one another if they wanted to. They were both trained to kill, and yet Emily had Bugsy grabbed in a headlock like they were two infants fighting over a sandpit. 
Because they didn’t want to properly hurt one another in any way that would last. Never. 
“Get the fuck off me or I’m punching you in the crotch,” Bugsy barked, trying to wriggle her way out of her sister’s freakishly strong arms with a frown, “EMILY- I SAID-”
“I was trying to protect you- just get your head out of your ass for two seconds and listen to me- I was trying to protect all of you-” But by the time Emily had somewhat gotten her to stop squirming, the girl had grabbed her by the calf where she had been forced to bend at a forty five degree angle, holding her one leg up off the floor while she sweeped at the second one to knock her off balance. 
She had been known to shoot an assailant in the foot from twenty feet away to stop them from getting away, and yet she was resorting to simply pushing her sister over as a way to get one up on her. 
She felt like she was ready to finger paint and take a nap time next; like they were about to be sat in the headmaster’s office and have their wrists slapped with a ruler for not keeping their hands to themselves. 
But it worked, and in seconds the Prentiss girls were on the floor, puffing out of breath, Bugsy’s lip bleeding where Emily’s ring had caught it on the corner, Emily’s cheek red and raised from where her sister had a surprisingly strong right hook. They took a minute to breath, Bugsy glaring at the awfully clear blue sky, much too happy and cheery for the travesty that had been her entire day. And it was only then did she hear the other three members of their team exit the trailer, JJ going to help Emily up while Morgan's face appeared in the middle of the powdered clouds, something sad and sympathetic in his eyes and it was then that he held out his hand to get her up. 
She didn’t want to, had every intention of laying there and staring at the broad daylight until she managed to float far away from there and from where her chest hurt with betrayal and her lip bled with lies. 
He yanked her off the floor, offered her a cold can of coke for where she felt her lip swelling already, and she resigned to sit on the stairs to the trailer with her head in her hands until her temple stopped pounding or at least until she felt herself calm down in the slightest. 
Emily shuffled to sit down next to her, her breathing still uneven but she could tell because she felt a tentative hand on her thigh rubbing gently, in the motherly way Emily had always watched her.
Because Bugsy had always been her baby, whether she wanted to admit it or not. 
“Bugsy?” The younger woman huffed in indignance, pouting as she stared at her lap, because she felt the tears welling up already, “I’m so sorry I left you, you know I never, ever wanted to, you know that right?” 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice cracked as she finally looked over at her sister’s solemn face, “You told JJ and Hotch but you couldn’t even tell me? Did you just not want to come back for me?”
Emily’s brows pulled up into a sorrowful frown, and she felt her eyes start to burn too. 
“No, that was never a part of it, I swear, there wasn’t a day when I didn’t want to come home to you,” She replied, taking a deep breath in through her nose as not to start bawling her eyes out there and then, “I had to tell Hotch and JJ as a matter of precaution, not because I wanted to tell them and not you. Bug, I missed you every day, I missed Niko and Sergio and those dumb documentaries you made us watch,”  
Bugsy smiled despite herself, wiping a finger under her nose to stop the tears that had already started rolling there, “Well, I don’t know about Niko but Sergio missed you a whole lot,” She sniffled, rolling the Coke over to a cooler side to sooth her lip some more, “But I think he feels like you kind of abandoned him, and like you maybe don’t love him as much because he can be kind of annoying and, like, he’s real torn up about me telling him you died only to find your you’re not, like you can’t just do that to Sergio, Em, he doesn’t deserve that,” 
Bugsy’s lip was quivering by the time she’d finished, but Emily chuckled wetly, wrapping an arm over her shoulder and pressing their pounding heads together. 
“Are we maybe not talking about Sergio anymore, Bug? Are we talking about you-”
“No, we’re definitely talking about Sergio,” She cut in, wiping under her eyes with her sleeve, looking back up where Emily’s face was glistening with tears though it seemed like she had somewhat calmed under her sister’s gaze that wasn’t so full of vitriol hatred anymore. 
Emily nodded, a humoured smile on her lips, “Right, okay, my bad. Definitely Sergio,” She held up her hand, stroking down Bug’s cheek for her where her tears had started pooling, “Well, I want Sergio to know that even if he is annoying sometimes, that there’s nothing that could ever take me away from him again, cause even though I’m not his mom, he’s still always going to be my kid, you know?” 
Bugsy’s face crumpled in pain for a minute, sniffling and meeting Emily’s eyes, dark brown hues watching her sadly, imploring her to know how much her heart called out for her. 
“Really? You promise?” Bugsy whined, and Emily nodded with a sad smile, stroking the back of her braid that looked a little ratted and wispy from where it had been yanked at. She took a shaky breath, looking down to her shoes where they scraped against the steps, “Well, I’m sure he’ll love to hear that, I’ll tell him when we’re home-”
Emily laughed, kissing her sister’s forehead, and pulling her into a side hug. 
“Alright, tough guys. Let’s get back to working on the profile, Sergio can wait for a minute,” Morgan said, though his face fought off the smile that crept on his lips seeing two of his favourite girls finally at peace with one another. 
Bugsy looked five years younger within seconds, and they clicked back into place, hopping up off the steps to get right to work, cursing herself for wasting so much time on silly things like hating her sister, because forgiving her felt cathartic in a way she didn’t understand she needed.
Maybe they had a chance after all.
Bugsy swore she would never have an optimistic thought a day in her life again. 
Because just as they had thought perhaps things could look up; just as they had sent in a different agent medically trained enough to save the jack, their UnSub, that they’d identified as Oliver, had bled out before he could have done anything to save him. Without a second thought, the king, Chris, had shot the agent, and demanded he wanted Will next as retribution for his brother’s death. 
They had of course turned down the offer in a heartbeat but the moment everyone turned their backs, Will, ten times the cop Bugsy could ever hope to be, had walked into the bank with his arms raised in surrender despite JJ screaming for him to stop from where Morgan and Hotch held her back from following him in.
Bugsy and Penelope watched from the CCTV in blood curdling horror when Chris put two bullets in him before he could even declare he was unarmed. 
“Did you see where he was shot?” JJ asked, her tone empty, her eyes bloodshot where she had broken down into a fit of wails as soon as the gunshots had sounded through the street. 
Bugsy opened her mouth to speak, losing all hope as soon as the bluebell gaze fell to her for an explanation. 
“Is he alive or dead, Bug?” JJ snipped, but she knew she didn’t mean it, knew she was just worried out her mind and grasping at straws. 
“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” Bugsy replied, Emily’s hand at the small of her back in a comforting gesture because she sounded scared. She wished Spencer was with her, he always knew how to make people feel better, but he and Kevin had gone back to their office uptown to use Penelope’s personal lair for better coverage on the BAU’s resources. 
“He was wearing a vest,” Emily jumped in, because Bug was tense and upset enough as it was, “He might be okay,”
“Might be?” JJ said humourlessly, her face hollow with sadness, “Alright we need to get inside,”
“JJ, it’s too risky,” Morgan tried as the woman stood up, a new found determination, because she refused to accept her partner, the father of her child, was dead until she saw him in a body bag for herself, “We don’t have eyes in there anymore,”
Jennifer’s eyes welled up again, and she turned to their unit chief; he was the only one who could understand just how desperate she felt right now if there was even the smallest chance he could still be alive. “Aaron.” 
Hotch took a breath, nodding to her with complete empathy, “Let’s go in,”
Bugsy leapt for the medical kit they’d kept in the cupboard, because if she could stop the bleeding as soon as possible he might have a chance. She was taken back to when she had gotten to Emily that night with Doyle, when she had nothing but the clothes on her back and a loaded gun to treat her sister with, when she had felt completely helpless. 
She refused to feel like that again, not now she’d been lucky enough to get Emily back. She refused to let JJ and tiny Henry go through what she did. 
Will wouldn’t die if she had anything to do with it. 
-
“Seeing what’s going on outside doesn’t help us inside,” Spencer said, standing behind where Kevin sat in Pen’s office, his hazel eyes falling to the surveillance footage of the bank live streaming from one of the choppers, where the familiar woman he worried for more than he could ever tell her moved behind a SWAT unit towards the front doors, a large med kit strapped to her back, a pistol at her side. 
He looked down at the blueprints of the bank because if he watched her get even ten feet away the bank he thought he might just throw up, even if there were four armed men shielding her.
“Kevin, can you possibly pull up each of the surveillance feeds prior to Will being shot?” He asked, quickly diverting his attention away from where they were at an impasse waiting for something to happen, Emily’s SWAT team moving slowly towards hers. 
“Sure, what are we looking for?” The other man asked, his fingers sprawling over Penelope’s keyboard as he did as requested, playing the older footage on the opposite screen, though even he was getting cold feet watching their team getting ready to breach the perimeter. 
“The female UnSub disappeared once before, if she wasn’t looking for an escape, what was she doing?” 
Spencer paused, because he couldn’t help when his eyes flicked back to the footage of Bugsy shuffling closer to the entrance behind one SWAT agent, and the doors burst open, the entire street pausing for a second to see what the movement was. 
The hostages. The civillians caught in the crossfire at the bank slowly trickled out of the doorway, their arms raised in peace, some crying in relief though there was no sign of Will anywhere. 
This was bad. Though he felt utmost care that the hostages had been released safely, he knew that the UnSubs keeping Will meant one of two things. One, that Will was already dead and useless to them, or two, keeping him bleeding out as a bargaining chip was their final play. Meaning they had no intention of releasing him, otherwise they would be left with nothing. 
If he wasn’t already dead, he would be any minute now. 
Spencer’s chest crashed in devastation for his friend and his godson, though it soon took a turn of terror when it seemed the same thought ran through Bugsy’s mind and she began stepping forward towards where the hostages were shuffling out in floods of tears. 
He saw Morgan and Emily yelling at her to stop, two of the SWAT team trying to follow her because they had no idea what had come over the twenty something year old rookie with a death wish. Spencer tried to ignore the way his chest clawed in horror, his eyes snapping back onto the surveillance of the female UnSub disappearing into the back rooms of the bank, completely ignoring the vault and the very clearly marked exit, meaning she had no intention of using either.
So what was she doing?” 
Spencer felt his head rattling with a horrid thought, hoping his intuition was wrong when he held the blueprints up to the screen, his skin turning to gooseflesh when he realised just exactly where she had been dipping out to with that backpack of hers. 
“Gas mains,” His voice was numb with fear, his body diving for their comm link to Garcia, where she sat in the trailer with Strauss and Rossi, watching the surveillance just as he was, “Garcia, get them out of there now,”
But no sooner had he said anything, Bugsy’s figure disappeared into the building, the SWAT team confirming that the entrance was clear, JJ and Morgan moving after her with their own agents protecting them. 
But she was already inside, his head screamed at him. Even when he heard David’s frantic voice through the radio they had linked to their kevlars, “ABORT, ABORT!” 
Even when he heard Hotch swear hastily, calling to his team to hold back, trying to yell loud enough JJ and her team could hear his orders to take cover. 
Spencer couldn’t truly take any of it in as he watched the large glass windows wobble for a second, a shock wave of what he knew was about to come.
The lines went dead, and he thought for a second his heart stopped. Because he hadn’t figured it out fast enough, hadn’t warned them before she had chance to throw herself head first into danger the way he should have known she would. 
Because Spencer watched the footage with a terror he had never known, not even in his eight years on the team, not even in his own situations as a hostage, not even when he was at his lowest and he thought the dilaudid was going to finish him off, alone and high in his apartment’s little bathroom, a burnt out drug addict who had so much going for him. 
Spencer had never felt the sheer, spine-chilling dread that he did when he watched, useless and heart broken, as the bank went up in a colossal explosion, a plume of flames bursting out of every window, shattering glass and cracking the brickwork, hard enough he watched part of the building start to crumble inwards. 
And Bugsy went down with it. 
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puranami · 6 months
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✿ It's The Little Things ✿
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A/N: My first time writing! Admittedly I'm very nervous, but also so excited!! Kept it simple with a small headcanon list to start, but I tried to write a decent amount for each point, and I hope that everyone is in character :0 Posting at 4am because I have no control over my life...
Summary: Little relationship things with the Strawhats. Can be interpreted as the anime/manga or the live action version of the character.
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji
Content: SFW, G/N reader, slightest hint of angst in Sanji's part, but otherwise, pure unadulterated fluff! ✿
(Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/Corazon, Doflamingo)
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Luffy
✿ He absentmindedly draws shapes on your leg, back, or whatever part of you is there as you sit together, whether you are watching the waves, or listening to one of Usopp's stories. He is almost magnetic in the way he ends up attached to you. If you're not feeling it, he will do his best to keep his hands to himself, but as soon as his focus shifts onto anything else, they're back on you, drawing little clouds and hearts. He tried, he really did!
✿ This bottomless pit inhales food like it's going out of fashion, but, much to the bewilderment of the rest of the crew, he will actually feed you from his plate as he eats, even though you are eating your own food. It may be a case of "1 for you, 5 for me," but it's almost instinctive for him; he's sharing something he's passionate about with you, and making sure that, in his eyes, you are happy, healthy and strong. He values your wellbeing more than food; you are one of the most important things in his life.
✿ Despite how chaotic he is in every aspect of his life, his presence brings you to a state of complete peace, even when he's yelling about whatever currently has his attention. Just knowing he is there comforts you in a way that nothing, and no one else can. As long as Luffy is there, being the same old Luffy he always is, you know everything will be alright in the end, and if it isn't alright, well, it isn't the end yet.
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Zoro
✿ He always places a comforting hand on your head when he passes by, or ends up in the same general space as you. It's his version of a hug, a reassuring touch that he is there, and that he's happy to see you. Zoro is very subtle with his affection, at least in public, but even when it's just the two of you, he automatically defaults to the head pat. It comforts him as much as it does you, and the simple action alone conveys his feelings far better than he ever could with words.
✿ You both love silently observing everything going on around you, and it's such a comfortable silence. You just enjoy each others company while watching the world go by, with Zoro also keeping an eye out for any threats, as he does. Sometimes you end up passing silent judgement on what you see, and you have both developed this uncanny ability to gossip without saying a single word. It's honestly unnerving at times, but you are just so familiar with each others micro-expressions that it's second nature.
✿ Insults are terms of endearment. If anyone else called either of you such things, all hell would break loose - swords drawn, blood spilt, bodies hit the floor, the whole song and dance. It actually started out as a form of deflection, with both of you being far too stubborn to admit any feelings were there, even to yourselves; "No, I don't like you, shitstain, I tolerate you." - "Whatever helps you sleep at night, arseface." As you connected though, it just became your thing, and you love seeing who can come up with the funniest insults. Zoro is surprisingly creative in this regard.
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Nami
✿ Nami has a habit of fixing your clothes and hair if something is out of place. It can seem overbearing to others, but she knows you appreciate the gesture. She spent years putting up walls to defend herself, and this is a safe way for her to have a little moment alone with you, giving you gentle little touches without revealing to the world just how important you are to her. It is a very grounding experience for both of you, and you end up doing the same for her on the rare occasion that she isn't completely flawless. She may purposely put things out of place so you have the opportunity to fix something too.
✿ She has an eye for the finer things, and loves getting you little trinkets, and especially pieces of jewellery, which often match or pair with hers, like pendants that fit together to make a whole shape, and such. Just don't ask her where she got them; "Shhh, you don't need to worry about that." All that matters is that you now have a tangible connection to each other, no matter how close, or far apart you are.
✿ Another person who relishes in comfortable silence. Of course you love chatting with each other, and often do so later into the night than you intended. Nami is very quick-witted and your shared snark is always so enjoyable! But it's the moments when you are doing your own thing together, basking in the warmth of that closeness that brings the most joy. Every so often, you will share something interesting or amusing, depending on what you're doing, but you always return to that silence. It's very domestic.
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Usopp
✿ You both end up in regular fits of giggles, that grow into raucous laughter, before devolving into the sounds of various suffocating wildlife, which only fuels the hilarious fire. He doesn't even have to say anything at times; he just has a look, and as soon as he catches your eye with it, you absolutely lose it. The amount of nonsensical inside jokes you have is absurd in itself.
✿ Ever the storyteller, Usopp will wind down the day with you relaxing under the stars, telling you fantastical stories about the impossible feats of the great 'Captain Usopp.' His creativity and imagination are something you greatly admire, and as much as you try to stay awake to appreciate those qualities, the comfort he brings has you dropping off every time. He'll carry you to bed most nights, but sometimes he can only manage to drag you around like a corpse he's trying to hide, and he'll end up waking you up laughing about it.
✿ You automatically link your little fingers whenever you are close enough to. It doesn't even register half of the time, only realising when you need that hand or try to go your separate ways. When this happens, providing there isn't anything that needs your urgent attention, you like to dramatize your parting, playing up that this is the most painful moment of your lives! "Don't you dare let go, Usopp! We can both make it out of this alive!" - "I'm so sorry, I can't hold on any longer, and I refuse to drag you down with me." - "No! Don't say that!" - "I love you so much, but you need to let me go..." Leading to you unlinking your fingers, and exaggerated fake cries of anguish. It annoys everyone around you immensely.
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Sanji
✿ You shamelessly flirt with each other, making everyone around you uncomfortable, groaning at how painful it is. You weren't together when you started playing this romantic game of chicken, giving back everything Sanji threw at you, and then some, but once you figured your feelings out, you actually developed it into a legitimate game where you attempt to be as sickening and obnoxious as possible. If there is no one grimacing, angrily telling you both to pack it in, or simply leaving the room; you aren't flirting enough. There is a points system, and you're currently in the lead. Sanji ends up caving over the things you say, and his brain loses the ability to form words, let alone string them together in a coherent sentence.
✿ Sanji always leaves a drink and a bite to eat for you to wake up to, since he isn't there in person, having to wake up much earlier to prepare the food for the day. Growing up in a restaurant, early starts are just part of his natural rhythm, so it doesn't bother him, but sometimes you try to wake up with him to at least watch the sunrise together, before going back to bed for a couple more hours. He cherishes those mornings, and there is always an extra spring in his step on those days.
✿ He takes every opportunity he can to share a glance and a warm smile, a gentle touch of your hands, or a chaste kiss with you. They are agonisingly brief moments, but Sanji needs them to get him through the day, otherwise he would just cling to you, and neither of you would get anything done! Unknown to you, these moments are also his way of reminding himself that you chose him over everyone else, that he is loved unconditionally, and that he is enough, without having to, in his opinion, burden you with his insecurities. He'll open up to you one day, and you will be able to give him verbal affirmations along with everything else~
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Hi guys!
This is a request I had some days (or weeks?) ago. I hope it would please the sweet anon who asked for it :)
Enjoy!
TW : Concussion, blood, injury, fainting.
_____________________________________________________________
Since the beginning of the day, something seems of when you look at your girlfriend. She seems worried, not at ease and is excessively clingy with you. Not that you don’t like it, but Lia always have said that you should be careful about your relationship. She doesn’t exactly want to be secret, but she wants people to concentrate on her play and not on her relationship. Which you can understand, her breakup with Caitlin Foord looked like it involved a lot of other people. The fans, actually.
You choose not to come together this afternoon for the game, you’re playing in the Arsenal’s stadium, so you have to come with your cars. You asked Alessia to pick you up and Lia is supposed to get you home. Because of the traffic jam Alessia and you are a little late. You are surprised to see you girlfriend almost jumping on you when you arrive, grabbing you by the sleeve of your jacket.
“Where the hell have you been?! I was worried sick!”
You look at her with incredulity written on your face. Where is your girlfriend, always calm, posed, thoughtful and rational?
“We had a lot of traffic on the road, but everything’s fine. Are you ok?”
She doesn’t answer, grabbing you by the hand this time, to get you to the changing room. You question Leah with a look, but the blonde only shrugs her shoulders. You take Alessia with you with your free hand, dragging her with you.
You are not even late when you get on the pitch, starting the training after hearing some of tactical adjustments from Jonas. Lia, sitting next to you, doesn’t seem to be able to stay still. And she is very nervous during the drill too, making you wonder what the hell is happening to her.
You take her around a corner before going to change for the game, far away from the other’s ears.
“Lia what’s happening? You are acting weird since this morning.”
“Nothing” Lia sighs, looking around her.
Everywhere but you. You cup her cheek with your hand, attending to have a real exchange of look with her. You know that when you look at her in her eyes, she can’t lie.
“Lia” you say with a soothing voice. “Talk to me Baby, please.”
She sights and rub her face, still leaning against your touch anyway.
“You are going to think that I’m stupid.”
“Not even in your wildest dream.”
This time your girlfriend rolls her eyes and smile lightly, making you smirk in return. You know that if it’s affecting Lia like this, this isn’t nothing.
“I just have that feeling that something bad will happen. I had it when Leah did her ACL and it’s back.”
The Swiss woman already talked to you about the feeling she had that day, almost seeming to say that it was her fault if something like that happened to Leah. You trust her, obviously. But your job is to reassure her too.
“It’s going to be ok Babe, I swear. I won’t let anyone take you down.”
Next to Katie and Leah for today, you are a defender. And for you, your job is to not let the other team come near your goalkeeper, but not to touch any of your teammates too. The fans call you The Bodyguard, and it’s not for your passion for the song « I will always love you ». You are higher than Lia but you aren’t really high either. You don’t seem to be big too, but your muscles allow you to stay with your feet firmly on the ground against almost every charge.
You offer a hug at Lia, who cuddle against you. She doesn’t exactly worry about herself, more about one of your friends. But she tries to convince herself what you said. It’s going to be alright.
During the game, you see your girlfriend flinch every time that one of your teammates is on the ground. Liverpool isn’t playing dirty, there are some faults of course, but it’s a great game. At halftime, it’s 2-0 for Arsenal.
But when you are back in your cubby, your girlfriend always seems to the point of fainting from stress. You decide to abandon Lotte and her cubby next to yours to go sit next to Lia in her cubby. You propose her half of your banana, which she take with a small smile. Looking around to be sure that no one is looking at you, you kiss her cheek.
“Breath Babe. Everything is fine, see? We are winning and no one is hurt.”
Lia nod and take your arm against her, trapping it between her two. You let her, smiling when she put her head on it. When it’s time to get back, you kiss her hair and follow her peacefully.
You should have listened to her though. Because it’s not her, it’s not one of your teammates that get hurt at the end of the game.
It’s you.
Around the 80 minutes, you are running on the box to try to take a ball from Caitlin. She sends it and at the same time as you, another player from the other team is jumping. Your heads collided. Hard. You were running from all your speed, so is your opponent. The first shock almost knocks you out immediately, but the way you fall on the ground with all your weight, head first, it’s the one thing too many.
You fall out, not reacting at first when Caitlin run to you, making you roll to your side. Jonas is screaming to the medic to “get your ass on the pitch right now”. When they arrive at your side, Alessia and Katie are here too. But Lia is frozen at the other side of the pitch, unable to make a move.
After some hesitation and realizing that the medical team shushed away almost everyone from you, Leah decides to take care of Lia. There is only Katie left next to you, maybe because she’s your best friend. Some feet from away you, Alessia and Caitlin are shaking and Lia knows right away that this is bad.
“Lia” Leah calls her.
The Swiss woman looks at her friend, who doesn’t know what to say. The blonde just takes Lia’s hand, training her slowly in the direction of the bench, where your other teammates are. But when she realizes where she’s going, Lia stop dead in her track.
“I want to see her” Lia mumbles.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea...”
Alessia, who were not far from them give a look at Leah. She shakes her head at Leah behind Lia’s back and the blonde understand quickly. But Lia sees that Leah is looking at someone and Alessia can’t stay quiet when she sees your girlfriend’s face.
“I think it’s better that you stay here for some seconds. There is blood and…”
And suddenly there is more movement next to you and they can see Katie standing up. Her hands are red with your blood and Lia starts walking without really realizing it. She ignores Leah calling her, she just wants to see you.
“Lia, stop, Sweetheart” Katie says softly when she saw your girlfriend’s coming.
“I want to see her” Lia mumbles, looking at Katie.
“I know. Just wait some seconds, ok? Believe me, please. She’s breathing but passed out, they want to clean her wound. And she kind of… Throw up. They say it’s because of the shock.”
A little far from you, the other injured player is standing but have a bag of ice against her head. But she’s up, unlike you. Lia watches Katie washes her hand and let a sob out before talking.
“I knew something bad would happen, I told her. It can’t be happening again.”
“Lia stop, it’s not your fault.”
But before she can explain why it actually is, the medical team is moving you off the pitch. They put you on a stretcher and Lia could now have a full look on you. You’re still off, a massive bandage around your head and some blood is still on your face.
“I’m going with her” Lia informs Jonas.
The man is a little surprised, usually Lia is the one of all her player who will listen to him without a second thought. But right now, he saw the despair on Lia’s face and know right away that he can ask her to finish the game.
“We’ll bring you your stuff” Leah says.
Kyra gives Lia her jacket to keep her warm and with that the Swiss woman is following you until you are in the ambulance. They put you on monitor and gave a call to the hospital to say that you are coming. You’re still not up and they want to make some tests to know and understand why.
At the hospital, a sweet nurse takes Lia in the waiting room, offering her a coffee. Lia takes it, but when Katie, Leah and Caitlin are here, her cup is still full. Katie put your bags next to Lia on the ground and Leah sits next to Lia, kissing her head. Caitlin looks unsure about what to do though. She came because she wanted to be there for Katie and for Lia too, but with their past, she doesn’t know if Lia wants her here.
They exchanged a look though and Lia just nod in direction of a free chair next to Katie. With a small smile, Caitlin sits next to Katie, taking her hand is hers.
“What did they say?” Leah asks.
“Almost nothing. They are making tests and x-ray to see how her injury is. She didn’t wake up, Lee.”
Lia doesn’t want to cry. She really doesn’t. But she can’t stop the tears from rolling on her cheeks. Big, hot tears. Feeling her heart breaking for her friend, Leah takes her against her and let Lia put her head on her shoulder.
“It’s going to be ok” Leah mumbles.
Some time pass, hours actually, and Lia almost fall asleep on Leah’s shoulder from exhaustion. But she jumps every time, trying not to. Even if the three other girls told them that they will wake her up. Lia rings your parents instead, even if she doesn’t have anything good to say to them.
“Family of Y/N Y/L/N?”
“It’s me. I mean it’s us”
Lia jumps on her legs and almost run to the doctor. He looks at the four girls with an arched brow.
“Are you all her family?”
“This is her girlfriend” Katie answers almost aggressively.
Caitlin takes discreetly her hand in hers, trying to calm her girlfriend. The doctor sighs but add nothing, looking back at his papers.
“So, we made some test to understand her injury better. She doesn’t have anything broken or blood inside, but she has a massive concussion. We don’t know when she will wake up and she will obviously staying here all the time she needs to wake up. Maybe she will have some repercussions, but we can’t say anything right now.”
“What do you mean, repercussions?”
Leah asks for Lia, who seems very close to a nervous break down.
“Loss of memory, attention disorders, chronic headaches, nausea” he starts to list with a disinterested air. “Language and visualization in space disorders, change of behavior, character... Well, you know. All that. I have to go I’m sorry, ask the nurse if you need anything”
It’s with a defeat face that Lia turns herself in the direction of her friends. They all look stunned, but no one know what to say.
“How am I supposed to tell that to her parents?” Lia whispers before realizing something else. “He didn’t even say if we can see her!”
“Let me see if I can find someone.”
Caitlin left to find a nurse and when she comes back almost five minutes later, the three others are in the same disposition.
“I will take you to Y/N, ok Love?”
It’s the same nurse that gave Lia some coffee before, and the Swiss woman just nod, following her in the floors of the hospital. They don’t say anything before being in front of your room.
“Four is a little too much but for now I will let you in. But please, be quiet, ok?”
They all nod, before going in and Lia can’t stop some tears from falling. You seem so small in this bed with all the monitors around you. They change your bandage so it’s not bloody anymore. But you have a black eye and the cocky smile you usually have on your face is gone.
Lia lets herself fall on the chair who is the closest from you, taking her head in her hands.
“The doctor said that she will have like trouble of memories and language when she will wake up” Katie says to the nurse.
She frowns at her, before rolling her eyes.
“Those are some possibilities, but they are very rare and it usually happens when the concussion isn’t healed fast. Y/N had professional who were here for her immediately, the risks are very small. They exist, that’s for sur. But don’t think about it now.”
The nurse’s statements allow Lia to breathe a little better. Her muscles remain very tense when Leah puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Lia gets closer to you while the other three are busy warning the people you are closest to, while the nurse (Lydia, like her tag says) left the room after asking them not to stay to long at four people.
“Hey Love” Lia whispers, her chin on the mattress next to your face. “It’s me. I know you are hurt and I’m really sorry. Take the time you need to get better, but please, please, come back to me.”
********
It was hard for your friends to make Lia leaves you, even for some hours and even if someone else is here to have a look on you. She’s terrified that something could happened to you while she’s not here. Or that you wake up all alone in your room. They managed to take her at least once a day off anyway, so that she can take a shower and change her clothes.
Lia is currently sitting on the same chair, making some Sudoku she stole from Leah, when she hears you mumble something. She almost falls of her chair in her precipitation to have a look at you. You already moved a little this morning, but you were still deep asleep.
“Love? Can you hear me?” Lia whispers.
It takes you all your strength to open your eyes, the intensity of the light immediately making your head hurt.
“Lia?”
After that there are some noises and movements around you. Lia called the nurses, and your mother came back running in the room. But Lia never left your hand, and this is what helps you to stay focus.
After Lia helped you to drink some water, the doctor comes to you with his flashlight to look at your eyes. The light makes you groan in pain and Lia mumble something in Swiss-German that the doctor should be happy not to understand.
“How are you feeling Y/N?” he asks you.
“Tired” you mumble hardly.
“Yes, that’s normal. You will be for some more days.”
He keeps talking but you can’t focus anymore. Squeezing very weakly Lia’s hand around yours, you fall asleep again.
Days are passing and you get better, but really slowly. The first days, you can barely open your eyes. You felt more than you saw Lia, your parents and Katie’s presence next to you. It seems like your girlfriend is always here when you open your eyes, looking way to worried for your taste.
With more days, you can stay awake a little bit longer, but you can’t have a big conversation. You listen and look lovingly at Lia, smile at Katie when she tells you real-life training stories through exaggerated gestures and you let your mother washing your hair when they change your bandage, something she probably never have done since you are two.
You did more tests too and the only problems you seem to have now, is a constant need to sleep and difficulty to keep focus. But Lydia told you that it would probably get better with time. The club made a statement about your case, and you let them handle that, trusting them with all your being.
********
“I have a good new, Y/N” sings Lydia when she comes to your room that day. “You can go home today.”
Lia smiles and you frowns. You don’t want to be something difficult to manage to Lia, you are not living together but you know that you will need someone to take care of you for some days.
“Isn’t it too soon?” your mother asks.
“I don’t think so. She has great results for the tests, get better every day and I’m sure that Lia here will take great care of her.”
She winks at you and Lia and you smirk when you see that Lia is blushing a little. Your mother can’t say anything against that, she knows perfectly how much you mean to Lia. And how much she means to you.
“I will come back with the fills to signs, the different prescriptions and everything you will need. Take your time to be ready, yeah?”
You nod and your mother takes her phone from her purse.
“I’m going to call your dad.”
It’s like the first time that you find yourself all alone with Lia. And you take advantage of that to ask her the question that is on your mind.
“Are you sure? It probably will be complicated and with the trainings and all…”
“I am sure, Y/N. Don’t worry, really. I will take great care of you, like Lydia says. We can go to your house if you want… Well, it would probably be better that way, you don’t have stairs like I do.”
You look at her rumble, your head against the cushion. You have your cocky smirk back and Lia realize it immediately of course.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing. I’m just lucky to have you. And I love you.”
She gives you her shy, beautiful smile back and takes you very softly against her. Even if you only have a head injury, she looks sometimes like she thinks you have broken ribs or something. Which you don’t.
“I love you too.”
She kisses lovingly your forehead, and you tilt your head in your direction, pouting. It makes her roll her eyes but she complied, kissing your lips softly. After that, she put her forehead against yours, looking deep in your eyes.
“You don’t know how much I am relieved that you are ok. I don’t know what I would have done if…”
With a finger on her lips, you make her be silent. She already excuses herself the other day, affirming that your injury was because of her. Because of her feeling that day and you already told her that this is stupid.
“Lia, stop. I am fine and I will be even better thanks to you. Please stop thinking that way.”
You are still very weak to be honest and you will have to take a wheelchair to left the hospital. You slept the journey to go to your house and fall asleep again after taking a proper shower with Lia’s help.
But you will get better and eight weeks after your injury, you are back on the pitch, stronger than ever.
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bb-eilish · 10 months
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Dirty little fantasies
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pairing; master!anakin skywalker x fem!padawanreader
warnings; Fantasies, pinning, corruption kink, virgin reader, dom! anakin, sub! reader, nipple play, creampie, hand kink, dirty talk, praising, degradation, cunnilingus
a/n; i’ve never written for anakin before but i love star wars and i love writing smut so here u go!
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Y/n was honestly surprised she ever became a Jedi apprentice. She was much older than the younglings, but Obi-wan and his own apprentice, Anakin, pushed for her training anyway. The council questioned who would be training her, as all of the masters already had Padawan of their own. Her hopes shattered when Master Yoda pointed out the obvious fact.
She was told the force was strong within her , not sure what that meant, y/n smiled and became excited anyway.
"Master, my Padawan is surely ready for his test. He has my full confidence. He will be able to train her." Obi-wan stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed as Anakin nodded, a serious expression scorched onto his face.
The council all had similar curious and questioning looks, but nodded anyways. "Alright, we will allow it." Master Windu sighed, putting his hand up. Y/n's eyes widened and every fiber in her being felt on fire, this is the most exciting thing she's ever experienced, and it hasn't even started yet.
The three of them exited the room and immediately a hurl of thank you's and smiles gush out of her towards the men. Their faces softened as they smiled.
—————
Y/n was now an adult, though, she wasn't very young when she became an apprentice, only several years had passed. Anakin was a great Master and she felt very lucky. The way everyone talked about him was fascinating, they praised him left, right, and center. They even became closer than she expected, being closer in age than other Padawan and Master pairs made that entirely possible.
"Master, wait up. Why are your legs so long." Y/n complained as she jogged up to Anakin's side once more, she swears he can take two steps and be a mile ahead of her. He chuckles before saying, "You ask that every time we walk together." Her nose scrunches at his teasing. But at the same time, her heart skips a beat and she swallows quietly. Though, she tries her hardest to keep down the way her body practically yearns for him. The hardest part is keeping the thoughts, the oh so delicious thoughts about him, to a 0 whenever he's near. The force is amazing in so many ways but a real pain in the ass when all she wants do is day dream about him.
"Great job by the way, the mission wouldn't have gone as well as it did without you. You're becoming a considerable Jedi." He looks over at her as she thanked him. He can't help but think about how much she's grown while being under his wing. In power and physically. Anakin was no liar, he couldn't possibly deny the fact she has matured into a fully fledged woman, Padawan or not, he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He had to push down the thoughts as well.
Anakin was fully aware of her daily thoughts. It made his day whenever he could know what she was thinking before she even entered the room. They were always innocent and random, until recently. Y/n clouded her thoughts much more, and at random times of the day and night, the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up, goosebumps would frost his skin and he had no idea why. The thoughts he could read were innocent in nature, but all about him. What he was wearing that day, how he decided to style his hair, certain things he said to her. His ego inflated each time and it made him even more arrogant and confident.
But alas, Jedi's were not allowed to become attached. He wondered if he needed to remind her of that, but he decided against it. Having a crush on him wasn't a crime.
—————
Anakin waited for her at her door that morning, he always does when they train at this time, which is only a few times a week. As he neared the door her thoughts became more apparent, at first she was busy with brushing her hair, then it was her tying her robes, and then they drifted off to him. He could see she was thinking about the time he had to help her untie the small knot she made in her robes. It made him smile, it was almost impossible to untie it. But his smile slowly faded as he realized her attention, unwavering, was directed to his hand. Not him untying the knot in general per say, but the way his calloused hand and metal one gripped the fabric, and how his very visible veins bulged through his skin.
He could sense how hard she focused on it, and how the thought of his hands sent her spiraling into day dreams. He was about to knock to end his spying before something caught him off guard. The waves of want that echoed from her, he could feel the stuttered deep breath she let out as she thought about his hands on her. How they would feel to prod at her most sensitive areas as he spoke downright sinful words towards her.
He felt like the air was knocked from his lungs as she thought in detail about the things he would say. The hair at the back of his neck reacted first, the goosebumps came second. "You're my prettiest girl , aren't you?" "Such a slut for me." "Use your words, angel." "You're mine, only I can make you feel like this." Anakin roughly shook his head before he breathed in and knocked on her door.
The thoughts ceased and his shoulders untensed because of it.
Y/n's door opened and there she was, smile as bright as ever as she greeted him. "Good morning, Master. A bit late aren't you?" She questioned, closing the door behind her with a wave of her hand.
He mustered up a smile as well as he answered, "Apologies, I was talking with Master Yoda." He patted himself on the back for not being suspicious as he lied through his teeth.
—————
Training was different today. No doubt it was about what he had walked in on this morning, but he tried his best to act like something wasn't bothering him.
Sparring was especially different, he was acutely aware of whenever he even placed a finger on her. She didn't seem affected at this but he knew. He knew the things she wanted him to say to her, say to her when his hands memorized her body, set her skin ablaze in their wake. It had a carnal desire simmering in his gut as he gazed at her sweaty form pant from the work she was being put through. So when training ended he made his way to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on his face helped the heat on his skin, but not the heat starting to grow in him.
Anakin fell pray to his desires, now instead of her imagining what it would be like to be underneath him, it was him imagining what it would be like to be on top of her. Looking down to see the look in her eyes as he touched her, made her his. The sounds she'd make as he stuffed her full. The mere thought had his pants tighten significantly. Would she cry as he stretched her out? Would she beg him to keep going? Better yet, would she submit herself to him, his mercy?
He manages, somehow, to collect himself before he leaves.
"There you are, Anakin. There is a last minute mission I need you and Y/n to do" Obi-wan told him as he lead him to the holotable. "Do not let him out of your sight, we suspect he's behind Senator Amidala's assassination attempts. He knows what you both look like though, so make sure he doesn't notice you." He explained further, Anakin nodded, going into serious Jedi-Master mode.
"I won't fail you, Master."
—————
After Anakin explained the plan to her she nodded along and followed his lead to his speeder.
"He lives in-" He pauses as he points to the apartment building they both come up to. "That building, there is two doors leading out, one in the back and one in the front. I'll take the one behind it." He parks the speeder where he could get in it quickly, but isn't suspicious. "We're close enough to speak through the force, so if something happens let me know immediately."
"Yes, Master."
He nods at her before speedily walking to the other side of the small apartment building. She pulls up the hood of her robe and tries to look the least inconspicuous as she possibly can.
—————
It's been radio silence for a few hours before the front door opens to the exact alien they're here for. She quickly lets Anakin know.
She watches the alien closely, walking behind him at a distance he wouldn't find strange.
Anakin catches up to her, both the Jedis watch the supposed assassinator from afar enter a bar. "I hate bars." She groans as he drags the Padawan inside the building.
"Uh, Master. Won't our hoods be kind of out of place in here?" Y/n points out, noticing the lack of clothes everyone is wearing.
"Oh, yes. Clever thinking, Y/n." He says, narrowing his eyes in search for the alien.
They both take a seat at one of the tables, eyeing the place until Anakin spots the alien, he's at the bar, downing what seems to be his 3rd shot. He stumbles a bit trying to get off of his chair. Both Jedi watch him go down the hallway that has the bathrooms, but also the back door. So, Anakin flags you over as he gets up. "Uh, Master. Isn't he just going to the bathroom?" She questions getting close enough to the hallway to peer down it. It's empty, aside from the usual couple making out on the walls. It brings a blush to her cheeks. No sign of the alien though.
They both walk further down the hallway until they both feel the door about to be opened, so Anakin does the first thing he can think of. He pushes his Padawan against the closest wall and kisses her. Trying his best to shield both of their identities, he pushes himself further against her and puts his hands on her cheeks trying to hide her face. She gasps in his mouth and her hands can't help but grip his robes.
She's never been this close to him, the feel of his skin on hers, his hands on her, feels like a dream. His intoxicating smell already clouds her mind. But the feeling is over before she knows it, the alien has walked back into the main area again. Anakin doesn't waste a second before following him.
Y/n stands at the wall still, hand coming up to touch her lips. That was her first kiss. Her first kiss was with him.
—————
The outcome of the mission was good, they ended up catching him and Obi-wan was happy.
The next day was training again for Anakin and Y/n. This time it felt so intimate, Anakin's touch would linger far longer than needed and he found any reason to touch her. It had her head spinning by the time they were done.
It apparently didn't stop at training either, Anakin would lead her everywhere with a secure hand on her lower back. He didn't comment on it so she decided not to either, in fear of him retracting the hand.
When he wasn't near, her thoughts were even more out of hand. Now, when she met up with him she was shyer than normal. A part of him regretted the kiss, he enjoyed it but he worried it bothered her. That night he made his way to her room, he wanted to talk about it without anything hearing.
And just like last time he heard her thoughts, here he was again. This time it seemed like she was already in the middle of her fantasizing. Before he could understand what she was thinking about, he knocked on the door.
It opened, the first thing he noticed was her big doe eyes staring up at him curiously.
“Master, what are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?” He asked, clearing his throat.
She nodded and he stepped inside.
The second he was all the way in he could feel the waves of want and desire once more, but this time they were all around him and it was hard to speak. Anakin swallowed, looking into her eyes as he began. “I wanted to apologize for what happened during the mission, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
She shakes her head quickly, “No No, it’s not that it made me uncomfortable. It was..” She pauses as she sits down on the edge of her bed. “It was my first kiss.” She flinches, she was always teased for not having kissed anyone while she was there.
He gulps this time, he can’t deny the feeling of pride that grew in him.
He sat beside her, contemplating his words carefully.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”
She turns to look at him, the only light in the room shining from her small lamp on her nightstand brushed against his face, making his features soft.
“Don’t be sorry, I, um.” She stops herself before continuing, fearful of her words.
Her master eyes her, “You what?” He speaks through the force, gaze narrowing at her sputtering.
“I enjoyed it.”
They both stare at each other, his eyebrows furrow as he watches her face. Y/n watches the inner turmoil that’s present on his as a lock of his hair falls in front of his eyes. A hand comes up to her wrist, it glides upward, over her neck, and up to her cheek. It cradles her face as his resolve snaps. This kiss has purpose, he hopes she can feel it. The way their lips brush against each other is erotic and she can’t possibly hold in the small moan that’s threatening to spill.
The jedi pulls away slightly to eye her, his mouth is parted as he takes in everything she’s silently offering. His breaths fans over her face and it sets her nerves on fire.
The second kiss is full of lust and want, his gloved hand finds her hip before he decides they’re not nearly as close as he would like. The hand on her cheek slides down to her chest and gently pushes her to lay on her back, though, his lips never leave hers. He situates himself on top of her and pulls away farther than before. Gazing at her lidded eyes and soon the pout settling over her lips.
“My prettiest girl.” He sighs out, reaching up to run a nail up and down her neck.
“Master.” She begins.
“Anakin.” He corrects as the nail on her neck drifts down enough to pull her shirt away from her collarbones.
“Anakin..” She obeys, even if it feels foreign on her tongue. “I need you.”
“I know…you should really keep your thoughts to yourself yknow that, Angel?” The name has her eyes widening and a smirk gracing his face.
“How could you think I wouldn’t find out about all the dirty little fantasies you have about me?” He switches hands so his gloved one is pressed next to her shoulder on the bed keeping him upright, while the other one meets her hip again to push the fabric of her shirt upward, Anakin eyes the newly exposed skin and tugs at his lip.
“M’sorry.” She breathes as a fierce blush settles over her face.
“No need to be sorry…” He drags his blunt nails up her torso as he drags her shirt up, goosebumps tickle her flesh as a result. Even more so when he leans down to hover over her, now, exposed breasts. It doesn’t take long for her nipples to harden partly from being out in the open air, but mostly because of him.
The Padawan holds her breath as he nears the mounds of skin, it starts with dizzying kisses up the valley between them and then continues with him teasingly licking around one of her nipples. She gasps, her bottom lip caught under her front teeth harshly.
Anakin takes a full nipple into his mouth and sighs as the sounds he knew would sound so pretty, leave her. Especially the ones where she moans his name in that breathy voice of hers. Her back arches and it sends her breasts even further into his face. He removes his mouth for a moment, only to envelope the other nipple and graze his teeth ever so slightly against it, he takes in her gasps and whines and they all go straight to his ever tightening pants.
He pulls away again, this time to lean up and kiss her. Messily their lips slide together, he even experimentally brushes her lips with his tongue. But she pulls away, “What are you doing?” She asks curiously out of breath.
“Open your mouth for me, kay?” His gaze goes back and forth between her eyes to her lips as he talks.
They kiss again and he does the same thing, so, she opens her mouth. His skilled tongue licks into her unexpectedly and Y/n moves her hands to his clothed chest for stability, well, mental stability at least. Anakin then sucks her tongue rather harshly and it sends moan after moan into his mouth. He swallows all of them gladly as he feels himself become even more worked up.
He would love to keep kissing her, he honestly thinks he could do it forever, but they must keep going. She whines and chases his lips when he pulls away this time and it has his eyes darkening. The shirt she’s half wearing is thrown somewhere on the floor as he dips down to kiss her stomach, down her belly button and along the waistline of her pajama pants as he hooks his fingers along them, dragging them down slowly.
The pink underwear she’s wearing has a frilly bow on the top and he couldn’t handle it. It was like he was opening up his present on christmas, his little, angelic, present that wants nothing more than to have him degrade her. How could he possibly deny that?
“Such cute panties for someone who’s such a little slut for me. Tell me, Angel, would you let me fuck you anytime I asked? Would you let me fuck you in my speeder? On the holotable in front of everyone?” He skims his lips against the hem of her underwear once more as he eyes her like a predator.
“Yes, yes, would let you touch me wherever you wanted.” She panted out, gripping the sheets beneath her.
“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” He asks, pricking the waistband with his teeth and dragging the offending material down her legs. She couldn’t speak, the sight and the feeling left her speechless and unbelievably wet. As soon as the last of her clothing was gone the smell of her sex was utterly intoxicating, so he did the first thing he thought of. Prying her legs apart and pressing his face against her cunt. Y/n didn’t have time to worry about her being the only naked one, for that she was thankful.
Anakin truly believed he could die happily right now.
“Maker, you smell amazing. Bet you taste even better.” He practically moans into her, the vibrations send jolts of electricity up her spine and it causes her legs to almost close. But the iron grip he has on her didn’t allow for that. Even when he licked up the expanse of her heat and suckled on her clit, her thighs were begging to give out by then. The new feeling of his tongue was addicting, the way he licked into her clenching hole had her head spinning and heart pounding.
“You feeling good, Angel?” He pants against her, opening his eyes to gaze at her already fucked out form. A moan leaves her as she nods. His ungloved hand lets go of her thigh in favor of circling her cunt and pressing his fingers against her hole. She chokes out a moan at the action.
His mouth only leaves her clit to speak as he fills her up, one finger at a time.
“So tight.”
It has her clenching and he hopes he’s able to feel that around his cock. The fire consumes her from the inside out and all she can do is take it.
Y/n’s moans become louder and more frequent, that paired with the clenching she’s doing around his fingers, he assumes she’s going to come. So before she can, he sticks in another finger and scissors them inside of her, coaxing out an orgasm the best he can.
“Come for me, Y/n.”
Her limbs tense up as her eyes clamp shut, said fire is spreading through her, every finger, every fiber. The euphoric feeling is prolonged as much as possible because of his fingers and the mouth still sucking her pulsating clit.
When she comes back down he stands up, gripping his shirt and pulling it from his body. In her frazzled state, she eyes his stomach, his abs more specifically. His chest too, the way it heavily falls up and down from his deep breathing is hypnotic. His belt is pulled off, and soon he’s unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down and off. She can easily see the outline of him through his briefs and the fire that was just released in her seems to have come back.
Anakin watches her face closely as he slips down his briefs and kicks them off. Her gaze on his cock doesn’t last long he notices, her eyes fall to his hand that’s currently gliding up her calf. He can’t help but chuckle.
“You really like my hands, don’t you? Even the metal one?” He smiles at the end.
She nods shyly.
So he takes a detour, his hand comes up to her face, traces her jaw, then traces her bottom lip with his thumb. Her breathing changed almost immediately at that. He wonders something for a moment, so he trails his hand downward, ghosting over the base of her throat. She bites her lip again as he loosely grips her neck.
“So pretty with my hand around your neck. Are you ready for me, Angel?” He mumbles. She finds it hard to speak, the intense eye contact is quite distracting and intimidating.
But she finally gets out a “Yes, Anakin.” After he swats her thigh with his metal hand.
The hand around her neck doesn’t budge as he settles in between her thighs and wraps a leg around his waist. He watches his tip tap her clit and tease her until she’s whining. He can’t hold up the act for long though, he feels like he might explode if he doesn’t push inside of her soon. The initial stretch doesn’t feel good, even if Anakin is pushing in rather slow, it still has her flinching.
“It’ll feel good, Angel, don’t worry. Just wait.” He tells her, concerned. She nods in return, holding onto his waist loosely. He keeps his slow pace until he fully bottoms out, he’s sure he could come right now. Her walls latch onto him like a vice and she’s so, so, wet for him. “Fuck, Angel. So wet and tight for me.” He praises breathily.
She clenches at that and it has his brain short circuit. All he wants to do is move, move until he comes inside her, but he waits until she’s ready.
“You can m-move.”
The first experimental thrust is intoxicating for the both of them. He was right, it does feel good. Just him inside her feels good. Every vein and ridge is felt and she makes note of each and every one of them. Another thing she notes is how deep he is, she swears she can feel him in her stomach at this point.
It doesn’t take him long to set a good starting pace, one that isn’t too rough but still satisfying.
“Anakin, you feel so good.” She moans, hips absentmindedly raising to meet his thrusts. The hand around her throat becomes tighter as he groans out.
“Flip over.” He says all of a sudden, pulling out. Her reaction time isn’t very good right now so she furrows her eyebrows. Far too slow for Anakin, so he takes it upon himself to manhandle her onto her stomach. She lays flat against the bed as he forces open her legs again. This time when he pushes in, the stretch is delicious. It has her pushing her ass against him, “Already such a slut for me.” He mumbles as he hovers over her back.
One particular harsh thrust has a loud, pornographic, moan leaving her kiss-swollen lips. He narrows his eyes as his flesh hand presses into her spine, moving upward until it reaches the back of her neck. It swivels to the front, lingers over her windpipe, and drags up to her mouth, pressing firmly against her lips. So firm that her head is lifted into his shoulder as he begins to jackhammer his hips into her.
Leaning down to her ear, he begins, “Such a perfect cunt for me, Angel. Gonna fuck you any time I get the chance.” He groans, grinding into her before thrusting again. The moans leaving her vibrate his hand and he can’t help but thrust faster.
Her brain feels like goo and she hopes he doesn’t ask her anything right now. But, of course.
“Do you like my cock, Angel?” He asks as he moves his hand for her to answer. She only whines and nods, hoping that’ll suffice. But it doesn’t. He smirks as he leans in again, “Use you words.” His tone has goosebumps prickling her neck as she tries to muster up something to say.
“Mm, I- I love it, mm, Ani.” The nickname gets him where it hurts, he can feel how close he is. So, he abandons her mouth and moves his hand in between her body and the bed, circling her throbbing clit.
His metal hand grips the back of her head and pushes it into her sheets, keeping her quiet as he continues abusing her leaking cunt with his cock and fingers. Just as he begins to feel his orgasm coming even closer she babbles and moans, “Ani, I’m, oh my god.” As she clenches around him sporadically. “Good girl, come around me.” She does just that and it pushes him to the edge immediately, his hips stutter and his groans fill the room, he pushes to the hilt as he comes inside of her. Filling her up until it’s leaking out.
They both pant as he pulls out and she turns around. Anakin places a kiss on her lips, once, twice, three times before speaking, “You did so good for me, Y/n. So proud of you.”
“Thank you, Master.” She lazily smiles.
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animehideout · 3 months
Note
I'm in need of fluff and comfort. Could I please request headcanons for how the JKK guys would comfort an S/0 who is doubting themselves and their abilities.
JJK Men Comforting Their S/O Who's Doubting Themselves
a/n: Hiii anon thank you for this fluff request, I hope you like it and it comforts you 🫶🏻. Sending you warm hugs ✨❤️.
Characters: Choso Kamo / Nanami Kento / Gojo Satoru.
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Choso Kamo: Words Of Affirmation.
When you're doubting yourself, you'd avoid talking to him, scared that he might judge you.
So you'd distance yourself from him.
He'd think that he did something wrong.
So he'd do everything in his power to make it up for you.
He'd apologize even though he did nothing wrong.
"Love? Please talk to me! I'm sorry if I made you upset, it won't happen again...I promise"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong Choso, it's just me–I'm just not good enough"
His eyes would widen in shock, you've always been so perfect in his eyes, so you confessing that you're doubting yourself took him by surprise and broke his heart.
A moment of silence would wash over both of you, letting your words sink in.
His wide eyes softened, gently taking your hands in his large palms ensuring a tangible connection.
If you cry, he'd get too emotional and tear up with you.
He'd give you time to speak your heart out, stopping you in between to give you his opinion; mainly telling you that you're amazing.
His words are his tool of comforting.
He'd list out all of your strengths and unique qualities.
"You are stronger than you think you are! You're unique!!"
"You have no idea, love! you always make me a better person, you motivate me to keep on going–"
Each sentence emerged from the bottom of his heart, full of sincerity and love.
"We all face hard times but know that you're capable of everything and anything baby"
His words were crafted to lift up your spirit and they did.
He'd spend the whole night expressing his belief in your skills.
He'd delete your self doubt and replace it with self-confidence, self-love and power.
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Nanami Kento: A Good Listener.
It would be when he gets home from work.
His keen awareness would allow him to pick up on the tense atmosphere, the moment he stepped into your shared bedroom.
He'd loosen up his tie, and approach you gently.
He knew that something is wrong, from the way you faked a smile to greet him, and from the way you were curled up like a ball on your bed.
"Honey! you alright? wanna talk about it?".
The bed sinking behind you. His hand carefully rested on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
"You know you can tell me anything right?".
Leans in to press soft kisses on your arm, letting you know that he's there for you.
His presence alone, motivated you to vent.
You slowly turned, now facing him.
He opened his arms, signaling for you to get closer and lay in his comfortable embrace while you talk about your feelings.
"I feel like I'm not doing anything right..I always mess up things.. I'm not good enough–" you'd start.
The more you talk, the more he holds you close to his chest.
He'd listen to you attentively, leaning in slightly to catch every word you say.
Nods in understanding and hums.
Creates a safe space for you to let everything unfold without being interrupted or feeling ashamed.
He would ask logical yet thoughtful questions.
Inviting you to share more without making you feel pressured, like asking about what triggered this feelings, how long have you been doubting yourself... Is it related to a past trauma.
He would try to understand every detail.
He would know when and what to ask.
Very considerate and patient.
Adresses every concern with genuine understanding.
Even if your words are scrambled, he'd totally get you.
He'd wait patiently, giving you all the time you need to formulate your sentences and find the right words.
He would be silent when you talk making sure to not interrupt your train of thoughts and express yourself fully.
His careful and considerate nature allows you to feel secure and comforted. Just by listening to what you say, you'd feel loads better.
"I totally understand sweetheart! this is a safe place, you can tell me everything.. I'm all ears"
"we will work on it together, okay?"
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Gojo Satoru: Physical Affection.
He'd notice right away how your mood dropped.
You were in a public place, so he would take you somewhere more private so you can be yourself without trying to fake a smile.
Gojo chose the language of touch.
He's always been so physically affectionate with you, so when you're feeling down and in need of comfort he'll double that affection.
Wouldn't leave your side.
He'd know that you're doubting yourself, he always reads you like an open book.
He'd give you a big hug and let you cry or just snuggle in his arms till you calm down.
He'll show you that he loves you the way you are.
His body moves on its own, from holding you close till he squeezes air out of you, to peppering your face with playful kisses, earning giggles from you.
"Here's that beautiful smile again".
He'd give you time to calm down, and gain your confidence back.
"I have faith in you, you're amazing, never forget that...now come here let me kiss you".
Even after he manages to make you feel better, he'd never leave your side, spend the whole day attached to you like a koala.
His arm still wrapped around your shoulder, giving you kisses and headpats every now and then.
Leaning down, to check up on you and make sure you're comfortable.
Boops your nose a lot.
"Are you feeling better now??"
"Whenever you feel down, I'll make sure to lift you up" .
Cracks jokes to make you laugh.
Tickles you a lot.
Wouldn't let go of you till he makes sure you're back all smiley again with no worries at all.
He trusts you a lot, and always makes sure to show you that he's proud of you.
421 notes · View notes
kaleldobrev · 4 months
Text
Screw Consciousness
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Taking a nap with Dean after a long drive
Word Count: 410
Warnings: Lots o' Fluff
Authors Note: Just a cute & quick little drabble ♡ I hope you all enjoy | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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“Screw consciousness, that’s what I say,” Dean said, as he plopped himself onto the motel bed, stomach first; his arms instantly going underneath the pillow and shutting his eyes.
“I’m gonna go and scout out the house. You wanna come with or did you want to stay here?” Sam asked, placing his duffel on his motel bed.
“She’s gonna stay here and take a nap with me,” Dean answered for you, still with shut eyes
“Looks like you have your answer,” you smiled. “Call me if anything seems suspicious okay?”
“Can do. Have a good ‘nap,’” Sam said, air quoting around the word ‘nap.’
You both looked over at Dean, who appeared to be about less than five minutes away from snoring. “It was a long drive. Pretty sure we’re just going to nap; hate to break the fantasy for you,” you half chuckled, adding a wink.
“Trust me, you and my brother are not on my fantasy list,” Sam said, slightly scoffing before heading out the door.
Once leaving, you walked over to the bed where Dean hadn’t moved a muscle since he plopped himself onto the bed. You started tugging at the sheets, but were having a slightly hard time considering not only was Dean lying on top of the sheets, but he was lying smack dab in the middle of the bed. “Whatcha trying to do there Sweetheart?” He half mumbled, still with shut eyes.
“Trying to get under the covers but you’re making that a little impossible,” you said, attempting once again to yank the sheets.
He sighed, and rolled himself out of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Alright, yank away,” he said, gesturing toward the sheets. With that, you smiled, and pulled back the sheets; pulling them back enough for you to almost fully immerse yourself from the neck down. “Cozy?”
“Not quite yet,” you answered, slightly wriggling to get comfortable.
“More pillows or more blankets?” Dean asked.
“Neither. Just need you,” you smiled, looking over at him. “Come on under.”
“Say no more Sweetheart,” he smiled back.
Pulling back the covers, he got into place under the covers, and gently pulled your body closer to him, so your back was pressed up against his chest; his arms having a firm but gentle grip around you. “Good night Sweetheart,” he told you, kissing the top of your head before it got tucked underneath his chin.
“Good night my love,” you said, finally shutting your eyes.
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ssturniolo · 3 months
Note
Hi! First I would like to start by saying that I LOVE your writing and my request is one for Matt where basically they are all on tour and the reader gets like dizzy and passes out on stage and the they all like carry the reader off of the stage and then on like the socials people are like praising Matt for how calm he was being and like a fluffy ending pls and if you don't have time or just don't wanna do this that's fine also love your work again!
Dizzy
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𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Matt x fem!reader
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - nothing
You smile as the bright stage lights shine down, the crowd still going wild for the triplets. This being the last show, Matt asked you to be his partner which you happily accepted.
You’ve never been on tour before but it’s exceeded your expectations, although very stressful.
Matt tosses the basketball to you, snapping you out of your little trance. Standing up from your chair, you wobble a bit, your vision going fuzzy.
“You alright there love?”
“Mhm” you blink a few times before walking up to shoot. After missing the shot miserably once again, you return to your previous seat, feeling like absolute shit.
Suddenly, the lights felts extremely bright, the voices seemed painfully loud, and you didn’t think you had enough energy to shoot again.
You push yourself off of the chair with shaky hands, ready to make your way over to Matt. It’s not like this is the first time this has happened, you’ve felt like this on and off all day today and yesterday.
“I’m gonna go get water quick” you whisper to Matt after he finishes shooting.
“Do you want some of mine?” He offers, pointing at his nearly full water bottle sitting on the ground.
You just shake your head, making your way across the stage. Your vision has gone fuzzy again and your legs feel like jello as you grab for something, anything to hold you up. So close to making it off the stage; out of the sight of so many people but you couldn’t. And everything goes black.
A gasp echos around the room as the crowd watches you collapse, each of them angling their phones in your direction.
Matt is quick to sprint over to you, swiftly scooping you into his arms before carrying you bridal style off of the stage.
He lays you down on the couch in the triplets “break” room, his face twisted with concern. Luckily, it didn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open, immediately mortified of what just happened.
“I’m so so sorry Matt I tried to make it off stage, I really did” you apologize, covering your reddened face with your hands.
Matt takes a hold of your wrists, pulling them down.
“You don’t need to apologize honey, are you ok?”
Sighing, you squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to pull yourself together. “I think I just need to eat something” you eventually say.
“But I really really don’t want to go back out there” you add, afraid to disappoint him but too weak and embarrassed to go back onto stage.
“That’s ok my love, I’ll pull a fan from the crowd to be my partner” Matt smiles gently, placing sweet kisses on your knuckles.
“Matt” you say as he gets up to go back on stage.
“Hm?”
“I’m lowkey kinda excited for the edits. You’re my hero”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kinda different than what you asked but I hope you like it ! :)
XOXO - Zoe
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getodrools · 26 days
Note
GOOD AFTERNOON LAVIII !! hwo are ya :3
i might js make an everyday appearance but HEAR ME OUT !! a year ago or so i made a lil joke saying i want toji to fuck me with his gun but like.. what if he actually did > 0 <
just wanted to share that :333 IM SO HUNGRYYY, im cravin pancakes but im pancakeless :( you could he sleeping so if you are i hope ur sleeping well and dreaming of super cute things :D : D TA TAAAA (that’s a fancy bye)
— pearl anon
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໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚ omg gm, i was dreamin’ ! ♡ ‘n i’ve been well, which i hope you've been feeling the same too pearl ! <3 besides the no pancakes disruption ;( ( ! ! but i do hope this feeds ur cravings in some way ??! sob — chocolate pancakes ( >> ) or fruit-based ??
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★ ┆ CONFESSIONS .ᐟ ───── TOJI FUSHIGURO ‧
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⟣ WARNINGS ‧ MDNI | f! reader | pwp, dub con ( coercion ), gun / fear / and power play, interrogation, degrading, slight praising, squirting, choking / asphyxiation, humiliation, &’ dacryphilia. ᡣ 𐭩 | WC ‧ 1.1K + |
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“Tell me where your brother is.” The silencer attached to the sauntering man's gun was cold – at first… The teasing against your ridden hood was no longer enough to set you straight – to spill out any more information he coveted for, solely wreaking a mess out of you; a spill of only silky cum ran down the table he interrogated you on, all shame flowed into a glistening puddle below…
Now the slim, steel barrel between the quaver of your thighs was scolding… “This’ll all end if you just open more than these pretty legs and tell me where my scared little target is. Alright?” And he jams it deep, no hesitation in plugging you up with a loaded gun to the hilt…
Slippery folds spread wide to make room ‘till the invading metal eases in – ramming through your cum-soaked embrace. It hilted in your steaming depths with shocking ease before dragging back with a slight roll; he'd twist at the handle to slide around — left and right, left and right like a q-tip swirling around.
Eyes squeezing tight, “Sir… Please, I told you–” You hiccup, “Told you… I don't know…” You didn't know him, or even knew your brother had a damn hitman chasing him down. Well, it’s a slight explanation as to why he abruptly vanished last week… but you still had no clue of the exact reason!
You didn't know anything!
But you do know, you couldn't risk your brother's life any further. Damnning family loyalty.
The scar lined down the broad man's lips wrinkled stiffly as he frowned, “Where did you see him last goddamnit.” You shake your head, almost a sob falling through feeble lips in response.
Still not good enough. He clicks his tongue.
“Sweetheart,” The mix of gentle words and a pistol shoved up your pussy was… odd, “Before he left, did you at least see him take a scroll?” Raspy voice drawing out slow for you, he tilts his head, “Think real hard f’me, ok?” You barely could muster up words! How in the world could you even remember a stupid piece of paper while a gun is lodged inside you?!
Oh fuck…
Your eyes fill with light, and so does the killers, believing you were about to spew out the truth, “Yeah, yeah, I know that look, tell me.” The only truth spewing out was your cunt reacting vividly to the twisting pole splitting through you.
Another, milky mess splatters at his grey pants and around his gun. Runny with a shimmer – damp and soiled, he soughed as you tremble embarrassingly along the tabletop… Cunt clenching around the working barrel, you cry out; the trepidation, adrenaline, and coerced pleasure from a — truthfully, a hunk of a man was all foreign, shaking a deep rattle in you.
Gasping ‘till the shady room fell silent…
The man's shaggy hair falls with his head, dropping it low with a sigh followed, “It’s just a simple yes or no. Use your words this time, honey.” Patience running eerily low.
Toji had a damn job to do. He was ranked highest in his field of work for a reason. He never cared to show mercy when it came to his money, and that's exactly what his consumers loved. Toji always got the job done one way or the other... Even if working his gun with lethal strokes inside your pussy ‘till you couldn't bare another rumbling high was undoubtedly a way… Anything to get what he needed to get what he wanted.
And before you could reason by catching your breath, your interrogator leans over your feeble body; a stiff leg booted between yours as the other crowded you in on the side. Hovering over you full flush, Toji fills his free hand with your throat, as if he was trying to stifle the very answers out of you.
“I’m giving you one more chance,” Those same words he's said a good handful of times rang through your ears, “Speak up.”
“… I–I…” But the firearm pulling and twisting around your insides was forcing your lips to clamor.
You haven't had room to properly suck in a fresh breath of air in the past three hours…
Verdant eyes scanning your face, so close, you could feel the flutter of his lashes tickle at the stained, wet cheeks that puff out. Welting in tears, you shiver, “I don't… I don't remember…—!” You hear the stiff pistol driving through your silken furrow cock back.
Oh fuck.
“Heh. You really don't now?” Burying all inches of glossy metal inside tight walls, then retracting and slamming down harder, Toji’s grip tightend too, “ ‘Cause I feel like you do. A little birdie told me you even helped him out, huh.” Fuck.
Cum churned with sappy liquids; dragging a translucent milky ring around his suppressor, nothing was going to impede his assignment.
All brisk motions left your gummy insides shivering potently and brain to slosh into a mushy pile… Toji kept at it ‘till you seemed fucked out of your mind. ‘Till you actually couldn't give him any more answers...
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<– BACK : PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT : MORE TOJI –>
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gtgbabie0 · 9 months
Note
hello!! i was reading smth on twitter abt how this person went on a date w someone and after they kissed, the other persons watch beeped rly loud due to an abnormal heartbeat and i thought it was rly cute and funny, i was wondering if i could request smth w leon? :0 i hope this made sense ;; no worries if it doesnt, its up to u!! hope u have a great day!! 💗
- Leon Kennedy x reader
This is so very cute!! Thank you for requesting my lovely! 💕
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Leon took it upon himself to walk you back home from the quaint restaurant the two of you had visited tonight, in celebration of ‘date night’ something that the pair of you agreed should happen at least once a week.
“I’ll be honest baby- I didn’t even know that place existed until tonight” You smile as you try to fish out your keys from your bag, frowning softly as you do so.
He presses a gentle hand to your lower back, “How? You live practically next door” he chuckles, admiring the way the light of the street lamps dusts against your face, painting you in a rather flattering light.
You shrug your shoulders with a small “I dunno” as you continue to try and dig out your keys, that seem to be hiding from you in the depths of your bag. Leon goes to help you but not before you prick yourself with something sharp, letting out a little yelp as you retreat your hand back out of the bag, dropping it as you cradle your hand with your other.
He watches as your purse drops to the concrete, low and behold your keys fall right out. “Hey, you alright sweetheart?” He asks, moving closer to you, taking your hand in his as he study’s the small cut that adorns the tip of your finger, “It’s not bleeding” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your fingertip.
The action is so gentle and full of care, even the way his hand grasps yours. It takes you back a little and you can’t help the stutter it creates in your heart.
“Thank you, Leon” you let out a shaky sigh, trying to calm down the flutter in your chest, “And for tonight- it means a lot” you giggle, feeling all bashful.
He inches closer to you, a delicate hand against your hip as he leans into you and before you know it his lips are against yours, a sweet, love-filled kiss that has your hands grasping at Leon’s shoulders as he effortlessly takes your breath away.
He pulls back resting his forehead against yours as you both let out breathy chuckles between each other, “My pleasure angel” and god are his words so sickeningly sweet, dripping with honey, and by the way, he chuckles you think he knows it.
You’re about to respond with some snarky comment about how 'cheesy' he can be, but before you can your watch lets out three, very loud, beeps. Embarrassment wraps around your body in haste.
“What was that?” He asks, looking down at your watch as you quickly hide it behind your back.
“Nothing!- it’s just- I need my keys” You stumble over your words as you grab your bag and front door keys from the cold ground.
Leon doesn’t let it slide, of course not, it’s not in his nature so instead he grabs your wrist pulling from behind your back, and your attempts to pull away are futile as he studies the small screen.
He watches the small love heart as it beats, along with a small red arrow that rises signifying that your heartbeat has increased rather rapidly and Leon can’t help the pride that bursts through his chest.
“N’aww did I do that baby?” He coos, dodging your hands as you try to flick his nose.
“Don’t be mean Leon” you huff, avoiding his eyes as his hands hold yours, “Or that'll be our last date.”
“Oh sweetheart- m’just messing, it’s cute honestly- it’s adorable. You’re adorable” he says, pulling you back into him as you hide yourself against his chest, another huff leaving your lips.
“Yeah, yeah” you mumble, rolling your eyes unbeknownst to Leon who peppers kisses against your face, his rough hands carefully holding either side of your jaw, and you internally curse yourself as your watch beeps again which only makes Leon chuckle, mumbling something about how he should stop before he ‘gives you a heart attack’.
And you make a mental note not to wear this watch on your next date, knowing he’ll never let you live this down.
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filynxs · 1 month
Text
: ̗̀➛ A Legal Tease.
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⚝ Hiromi works for you, the CEO of a large company, and is your personal lawyer. He has been for many years. For you, it feels like every time you work together, you two come closer. However, because of his stoic attitude you don‘t know if he feels the same way. Little do you know that he can‘t stop thinking about you at all…
⚝ Hiromi Higuruma x fem!reader
⚝ sexual content; 18+; m*sturb*ting; his pov
» [I Fucking Lust You - D‘african] «
0:00 ─〇───── 0:00
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
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I sigh deeply as I step into the bathtub, feeling the cold water surrounding me and soaking my suit.
Y/N.
That woman is doing something to me, and I think she knows it. Oh she knows exactly how every single curve of her body works on me like magic, causing my heartbeat to increase in an instant.
When I saw her today, it was like time stood still. My eyes were drawn to hers, which looked at me like two beautiful stars. I can‘t believe that it was a coincidence that we met there, because I‘ve never seen her in my favorite café before. And her dress…
The ringing noise of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look at its screen to see that Y/N is calling me. Definitely not the right moment, Y/N. I look down at my crotch, letting out another sigh through my nostrils.
Leaning my head back, I pick up the call and press my phone against my ear.
"Y/N, do you need something?" I ask her, my voice slightly shaky that it vibrates in my throat.
My free hand wanders down to the zippers of my trousers, freeing my hard cock from the tight cloth that surrounds it. As I look down at it, it‘s twitching and throbbing in eagerness. The arousal in it almost hurts.
"Good evening, Hiromi." she greets me, and her angelic voice sends a pleasant shiver down my spine.
Fuck.
My hand gently wraps around my hard shaft, slowly caressing it. Closing my eyes, I try to hold back any noises that could expose my arousal.
She clears her throat before she speaks up again. "About our current case," she pauses, "we need to make another appointment."
Harshly biting my lower lip, I let my hand caress the tip of my cock, causing my legs to shake. I know that this is wrong, but it feels so fucking amazing. Y/N doesn‘t even know what I‘m doing here, but I bet she would like to ride my dick just as roughly as I am imagining it right now.
"Is that… alright for you?" she hesitantly asks after a while in which I don‘t answer. A drop of sweat rolls down my temple.
"Yeah," my voice slightly breaks, thus I clear my throat, "yeah, that‘s fine. When do you want to meet? I need time to prepare our documents."
"Hmm…" she hums softly and thoughtfully, mumbling something to herself while I wait for her answer. I exhale through my parted lips, hoping that she would not notice anything. But that woman is smart enough to get something. It just takes a little more time until…
"You sound exhausted," she exclaims, and nervousness as well as arousal courses through my body. My eyes open, and my hand stops with the strokes, being tightly wrapped around my pulsating cock, "Is everything alright?"
I gulp, feeling just how dry my throat is. And at the same time, I feel how little there is needed to make me come. Just a little more, Y/N. Talk to me. My hand proceeds to caress my cock, as if an instinct is controlling it.
"I‘m good." I stutter out with a heavy breath, running my tongue over my lower lip, "So, when will our appointment be?"
I can tell that my short answer was weak, and that she is not completely believing me. I wonder what she is thinking about right now. What do you think am I doing, Y/N?
Clearing her throat, she takes a deep breath. "How about Monday next week?" she suggests, the tone in her voice changing a bit, sounding rather nervous now. Did she notice it? How I‘m rubbing my cock even faster right now? That I‘m coming very soon?
"Sounds good to me." I tell her with a breathy voice, not caring about her hearing my arousal anymore. I‘m filled with such an excitement that I can‘t control myself. It‘s like the professionalism flows out of me with every single touch of my hand around my cock.
"Great." she stammers, "See you next Monday, then."
Before she can hang up, I interrupt her. "Y/N, wait."
My hips jerk against my hand, causing the water to move and splash slightly. The amount of pre cum on my cock‘s tip is insane, showing just how much I want to fuck her.
"Yeah?"
I gulp, feeling how my blood rushes down to my shaft.
"What do you think am I doing right now, Y/N?" I ask her, trying not to sound as nervous as I am right now. The tension in this phone call is thick, driving me closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.
I‘m ignoring all of my own rules right now. And I bet I am going to regret it later. After all, I‘m having a phone call with the woman I work for, while I am masturbating. This is nothing I would ever do. Arousal makes us dizzier than alcohol ever could, it seems.
"I don‘t know." she utters after a pause, a stutter lacing in her honeyed voice which causes my heart to skip a beat. Hesitance is apparent in her voice. I can tell she knows what I‘m doing, but it‘s too embarrassing for her to say it out loud.
"You do, Y/N." I state, gritting my teeth for a moment as I feel myself coming closer to my climax, "I couldn‘t stop thinking about you today, you know?"
She takes a deep breath which sounds shallow and shaky. A silence then follows, feeling heavy on my chest in which my heart races.
"Are you," she pauses, her voice breaking slightly. She swallows, "are you enjoying yourself?"
A faint grin brushes over my lips for a second, and my cock shoots out my warm seed that covers my trousers and mixes with the cold water I‘m lying in. I can‘t help but grunt softly, breathing out the arousal I feel. My body is trembling as the aftershocks of my orgasm hit me, taking over my mind that is filled with thoughts about Y/N.
"Yes." I whisper into my phone, "You made me come, Y/N."
She doesn‘t answer for a moment, and I take a sharp breath through my parted lips. Only my heartbeat is what I hear right now, and that makes me nervous.
"Finally." I hear her sighing into the phone, and her comment startles me, "It took a long time for you to tell me about how you feel."
My brows raise instantly, and it feels like I have stopped breathing.
"How about you come over now, Hiromi?" she suggests, her voice dripping flirtatiousness now. Almost as if her embarrassment has faded away, now that she knows how I feel.
"Good idea." I reply huskily, feeling how my cock twitches in anticipation, "It's time for you to make me come in another way."
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lyak12 · 2 months
Note
Lucy bronze x reader. They just had a tough game and reader had a lot of back pain and Lucy helps her and massages her and takes care of her. Some fluff :)
I have your back
A/N: This was just so cute. Again it's not very long, only about 1k words, and I'm honestly half asleep right now so I don't know if this is any good but I couldn't help but see how Lucy would see right through readers facade at this req. Not proofread, and again, I'm a bit rusty, but still, I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: None I can think of, if you see something lmk:)
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It's your first season playing for Barça and you love it. Especially since you're reunited with your girlfriend again. Lucy and you play both for the English national team and have been dating for over two years now.
As Lucy had moved to Barcelona about a year into your relationship, you had been scared that your relationship wouldn't last, but you quickly realized that your love had known no distance.
Nevertheless, as the opportunity arose for you to join her in Barcelona, you had jumped on it, and it's been the best decision you made.
Life with Lucy in Barcelona is great. The weather is unbelievable and the food to die for.
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It's is your second time starting for Barça and since you were one of the best teams in the league, you hadn't expected the game to be so rough. Not rough in the team is super strong, but rough in you felt like you're playing rugby.
It's around the 70th minute, Barcelona is in the lead with 6:0 as you jump up for the header. It's a beautiful pass from Lucy and it finds you perfectly. However, before you can even head the ball in, you feel a player from the other team jumping in your back.
You fall to the ground without being able to really catch yourself, landing mostly on your back, which causes the wind to get knocked out of you.
You groan as you try to catch your breath. For a moment, everything is black. As you open your eyes again a moment later, the first thing you see are your girlfriend's worried eyes.
"Are you okay y/n/n? That was an ugly fall", Lucy asks, worried, her northern accent coming out thickly when she's worried. "Yeah, I think so", you say and try to sit up. Your back is killing you.
The medics come running towards you to make sure you're alright and didn't get injured in the fall. They notice you're still breathing a bit shallow, but from what they can tell, nothing is seriously wrong. They help you up, and you stretch your back slightly.
You stay on the field, partly because you are too stubborn to admit you are in pain and partly because you feel like you need to prove yourself on the new team. "Are you sure?", Lucy asks, worried but you just nod.
Your back is in agony the rest of the game, but you push through. As the game is over and you win 7:0, you can't help but celebrate with the others on the team. However, Lucy can look right through your facade.
She keeps a hand on your back gently and makes sure you take it easy without causing much attention. After a nice hot shower, all of you get dressed and get back on the bus to drive back.
You wince slightly as you sit down, the bus seat certainly not helping your back. Lucy just smiles sadly before patting her lap. Normally, she's a bit more reserved in front of the team, but right now, her whole focus is on getting you as comfortable as possible until you're home.
You curl up on her and end up dozing off a little. The drive back luckily wasn't that long back to the headquarters. Once you all got off, Alexia and a few others asked, "Do you guys wanna get some food with us?".
Lucy knows you'd never tell your new captain no, so she's quick to answer, "Not tonight, I think we'll call it an early night and get some well needed recovery done. Thank you, though. You guys have fun." Alexia just nods with a smile, knowing how important recovery is for Lucy's knee.
That Lucy is feeling completely fine is beside the point.
"Why did you turn them down?", you ask softly, trying to appear tough, but Lucy sees right through you. "Because you're in pain, love. And I'd rather spend the rest of the night to make you feel better than going out to eat", Lucy says as she kisses your forehead, and you just smile softly.
The way home is not far, thankfully, and once you're in the privacy of your apartment, you can no longer keep the facade up. "Bloody hell, this hurts", you say as you lean on the kitchen counter. "Yeah, that was a pretty rough fall. I can't believe you kept playing after that", Lucy says, gently rubbing over your shoulder.
"Don't act like you wouldn't have", you say with a raised eyebrow as you look at your girlfriend. "Guilty, but we both know I would've gotten an earful from you as soon as we were home", Lucy says with a chuckle, and you just laugh slightly before you wince. Laughing hurts.
"Come on. Let's get you on the bed so I can massage your back", Lucy says, gently ushering you to the bedroom. "Luce, you don't have to. You must be tired and.. ", you try to argue, but Lucy interrupts, "Close that cute mouth and lay down on the bed, take off your shirt. This is not up for debate."
You know that tone, so you do as you're told and lay down on the bed on your stomach, top less. Before you know it, you feel Lucy straddle your thighs as she spreads some oil on your back and starts massaging.
You normally love Lucy's hands on you, but at the beginning, with your muscles being so tense, it's just painful. You can't help but groan a few times, and Lucy says gently, "I know, I'm sorry. Try to relax, baby."
Eventually, you do relax, and your tense muscles are starting to loosen up. By the time Lucy feels accomplished with her massage, you were fast asleep. This game took it out of you, and Lucy can't help but smile at you.
Kissing your head a few times, she gets ready for bed herself before crawling in with you and tucking you both in. You instinctively cuddle into her chest, and she just pulls you close, pressing a kiss on your forehead before mumbling, "I love you, sleep well, Baby."
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maxsimagination · 26 days
Note
Hope you have a good day,could you do a Hayley Raso one were reader gets injured and Haley gets overprotective but after that she comes over and checks if your alright? Thankyou:)
𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 - 𝙝.𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙤
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warnings: major injury (concussion, mention of blood), angry!hayley, mancity!hayley
a/n: no hate to chelsea or its players, it’s just for the fic
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chelsea vs manchester city.
the two strongest sides in the super league.
all the passion and power both teams had was coming to a head today, in the cup final.
to say i was nervous was an understatement, it wasn’t my first major game with the club but i got the jitters before every important fixture.
gareth had published the starting lineup yesterday at training, which i’d immediately looked over and noted that he’d put me in first. starting at centre back, lucky number eight.
when we arrived at the stadium, there was people all around in the stands. you could hear the crowd, not yelling, but the sheer amount of them made all the talking reverberate and was heard from the changing rooms.
eventually, we all ran out to start warm up, spending time running basic drills, gareth shouting instructions here and there, psyching ourselves up to play in our biggest game yet.
you could hear over the loudspeakers throughout the stadium, they announced each player one by one, as we each came up on the big screen. when we were called back into the tunnel, hayley came up next to me, bumping my shoulder with a grin.
“you excited?”
“yea, you could say that. nerves are buzzing in my stomach though.”
her laugh was light and sweet, her eyes sparkling with humour.
“you’ll do great. best centre back we’ve got.”
i could feel the blush spread on my cheeks. it was then that gareth herded us all in the change room, wanting to give us a pre match pep talk.
“go out there and crush them, girls. we got this.”
with one last cheer, we all walked out, the starting eleven lining up behind steph houghton, the experienced defender leading us out.
when we first kicked off it wasn’t an exciting start.
i didn’t get much ball time within the first ten minutes, kiera and georgia kept the ball up in the middle, occasionally passing back to defense who promptly kicked it back up.
chelsea’s first break came in the 25’ minute with sam kerr. she was lightning fast and had the ability to head in goals from anywhere.
lauren james had given her an amazing pass from the mid, and kerr was bolting for the ball down the left wing. i knew that jen was meant to be there, but she was too far up the field to make it back and still defend.
that’s where i came in, sliding along the grass to kick the ball away from sam’s foot at the last moment. it was a brilliant save, if i did say so myself, and ellie in goal was punching the air at my moves.
finally, we broke the stalemate, kiera landed an unexpected but amazing shot from outside the box. it was 1-0 to man city.
the whistle blew for half time shortly after and i dragged myself down the tunnel. chelsea was definitely making us work for it.
a fifteen minute break only seemed like five when we had to walk back out there. gareth had subbed hayley onto the field to play in striker, hoping we had another lucky break.
quite the opposite happened, however.
chelsea had the ball up our end, before it was tackled away; they had a corner kick. guro took that shot, and props to her because it curved beautifully. i had leapt up to header the ball away, but at the same time, lauren james was there.
her body had smashed into mine, knocking me back. however, it wasn’t the crash itself that had caused damage. when i had fallen back i was too close to the goal and my head had been hit on the metal post.
i heard the crack, and an audible gasp, although i couldn’t determine who that came from. a wave of pain consumed my body, from my head down. the first thing i did was reach a hand up to my head. when my fingers pulled away, the tips were covered in blood.
my blood.
i could barely make out what was happening around me, it was a fight to keep my eyes open and my ears were ringing, but what i did see was hayley going toe-to-toe with lauren james.
the medics had reached us then, but for me it was already too late, i closed my eyes and let my vision go black.
hayley was almost screaming in lauren’s face, this was her fault, she pushed me into the goal post and now i was unconscious. our teammates had to physically restrain her before things got out of hand. the ref handed lauren a yellow card for her dangerous play and hayley got a warning for her words.
i was stretchered off the field and taken in ambulance to the nearest hospital before the girls could restart their game.
when i woke up, the first thing i noticed was the white room. everywhere i looked there was white. then i saw hayley sitting next to me. i didn’t know how long she’d been there, but she was currently asleep in the chair so my guess was long enough.
hayley had always been a light sleeper, so when i moved my hand, it was no surprise that she woke up immediately.
“you’re awake.”
she stood up and called for the nurse. a younger woman walked into the room with a clipboard and some paperwork.
“yn yln?”
“yea-a.”
my voice was all croaky from not having spoken in a while.
“how are you feeling? took quite the fall on the pitch today.”
i didn’t have a clue what she was talking about so i just answered the question.
“my head hurts a bit. i don’t remember anything happening. what happened?”
hayley was the first to speak up this time, recounting what had happened on the pitch earlier.
“your head was whacked against the goal post.”
turns out i’d split my head open, even if it was only a little bit, and gotten a concussion.
slowly i took in everything that had happened within the last couple of hours. i didn’t say anything just say in silence trying to process things.
the nurse ended up leaving after a bit, telling me i was free to go, as long as i had someone that could supervise me for a couple of days. that left me and hayley in the room alone again.
“i was so worried that you wouldn’t remember me.”
i don’t think she expected me to answer, or even hear what she said in the first place, but i knew.
“i wouldn’t forget you, ribbons. i’d never forget you.”
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jals-stuff · 15 days
Note
OKOK i just wanted to make sure you didn’t have too many before requesting ^-^
Could you do an Orter one shot of him being caught showing affection to his lover, like maybe by his brother wirth :3 I just need soft Orter so bad!!
Of course, no worries~
I like angst better but a bit of fluff from time to time is definitely nice! There are a lot of requests going on right now for some reason
word count: 1.2k
note: not proofread and written with 0 hours of sleep, sorry about any typos and such, I hope you'll like it
Take a break!
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It's been a week since Orter’s workload started skyrocketing and as much as he loved you, he also needed to take care of his work. Of course, being a Divine Visionary comes with intriguing, interesting missions, amazing adventures, new landscapes to explore… but good gods, the unending amount of paperwork...
He's been coming home late for a while now and there were even times when he slept in his office so he could start filling his workload first thing in the morning. Quite honestly, it pissed you off.
You weren't, per se, mad at Orter, but at the situation; he was just accepting it without any complaints and it made you sick to know that the love of your life was working himself to exhaustion everyday.
Plus you really missed him a lot. The only breaks he’d take during the day are the few minutes he gives himself to call you, check on you and apologise in advance for not coming home that night.
Since Orter wasn't going to come to you, you decided you'd come to him!
You entered the immense building and looked around the entrance hall for a minute before you were met with Ryoh’s usual sparkling expression and the Magia Lupus. You took a few steps towards him and gave a polite smile.
“Good day, Ryoh, what's happening here?”
“Oh, hello (Y/N), nothing much. Bless Minister just wants to see the Lang students who were involved in the puppets incident.”
He then eyed you for a second, taking note of the basket you were carrying and your worried expression. A chuckle escaped him and he waved at you to follow him.
“I’m guessing you came to see Orter, am I right? He's been working a lot,” Ryoh sighs as he leads you to your man’s office. “I hope you'll manage to help him take a break.”
You stood there for a bit before knocking on his door and entering when he allowed you to. He was still looking at his paperwork when you entered, and didn't notice who was paying him a visit.
You gently put the basket down on top of his desk and leaned forwards. “Special delivery today.”
He looked up and his expression immediately softened, though he did look kind of rough with such messy hair and dark undereyes. You walked around his desk and he stood up, his arms wrapping comfortably around your figure as he gave your forehead a kiss.
“What brings you here, darling? Is everything alright?”
You held him harder against you and sighed with a nod. Of course now it was fine, you had missed his embrace so so much, and you could tell he did too.
“Everything’s alright now. I just miss you a lot, you know?”
He gave a soft sigh as one of his hands came to caress the back of your head gently in an attempt to comfort you. Tightening his arms slightly around you, he leaned forwards and gave your lips a gentle kiss.
“I miss you too, dear, but I have a lot of work here as you can see.”
Disappointed but not surprised. You turned your mouth into a pout and groaned in frustration as you nuzzled your head against his chest. It wasn't his fault but… just… ugh! You pulled away from the hug and took a few biscuits and a warm thermos of coffee out of your basket, placing them in front of him.
“I know… but you need to take a little break now. Please, for me?”
He sighed with a very faint, barely visible smile. Had he not been your lover, you would've thought it was just his usual expression, but with time, you had learned to recognise the way he smiles. Orter couldn't say no to your plea and so he sat back down and allowed himself to stop working for a bit.
“May I stay with you while you work, love? I promise I won't interrupt.” You asked, looking at him like a lost puppy, begging to be taken home. Still sitting, he extended an arm for you to come closer to him, only to suddenly pull you in his lap when you did.
Your side was against his chest and he had one of his arms behind your back, gently caressing it as he pressed yet another kiss on your forehead. With a soft exhale, you nuzzled your face into his neck as he kept silently working and occasionally sipping on the coffee you'd brought him.
And just as you promised, you were silent, and didn't interrupt his work even once. He would occasionally look at your face and ask if you're comfortably seated, or rest his head against yours while he thinks.
He finished one of his unending files and closed it, stretching his arms and allowing himself to breathe for a little while, looking down at you with a soft, relaxed expression; a contrast to his exhausted appearance earlier.
“Aren't you exhausted?” You asked with a hint of worry as you ran your hand through his hair to try and make him look less feral. He placed his fingers on your cheek and raised his eyebrows at you.
“I am. But I have the best vitamins to keep me going.”
And without warning he just pressed his lips on yours, this time a little harder than before as you kissed back with your arms around his neck. As soon as the kiss was over, he gave you another one, and another one, and he kissed his way down your jaw while his hand affectionately rubbed your side.
You kissed back more passionately and sighed softly into his lips when his door shot open, a tall figure wearing a Lang coat barging in. Now of all times.
“I thought the puppet incident had been taken care of already, why am I still- what.”
You had nothing against Wirth; he was a rather kind young man when you weren't on his bad side, but right now you wanted to rip his head off. Orter’s lips left yours and it infuriated you. His brother was absolutely not used to this sort of display, and he stood there, flabbergasted.
Of course, it was just some innocent cuddling because you and him missed each other a lot when he was at work but from someone else's perspective… His hair was messy, his tie heavily needed to be fixed and his clothes hadn't been ironed in a while, so…
“I’ll just- um. Yeah.”
Wirth looked like he had seen a ghost and although it was obvious what he thought he had interrupted, Orter chose not to deny or explain.
“Yes, it would be preferable.” Orter said, not even sparing a glance at his brother, his eyes still deeply staring into yours. You would've thought he'd be embarrassed- and he was, but his physical need to hold you and cover you in kisses took over.
He brought your head closer to his and kissed you again, deeply as he sighed into your mouth and you couldn't help but absolutely fold and kiss back again. Wirth didn't know if he should be glad for him or terrified with how hungry his brother looked at the moment.
One thing was certain, he took the right decision when he left, because a few minutes later, you were laid on top of Orter's desk like some kind of homework he was just about to do.
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