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luvv4j4ybe11 · 19 days

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could you maybe write something where reader was previously human but now is an avatar but she doesn’t know about heat, kind of like what Blue-Slxt wrote with Neteyam but with Lo’ak:3 (sorry if you don’t understand this is my first time requesting anything and i’m still practicing english)

PHEW OK!!, I’ll try my best, baby.

Warnings: p n v, a/b/o elements, dom!loak, sub!reader, heat and rut cycle, breeding kink, Dacryphilla, lo’ak marks reader ALOT, scent kink, swearing, fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink (if you squint), praise, slight degradation, choking (again, if you squint), squirting, rough sex, aged up!lo’ak, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, and enjoy, my love<3

Translation: “Mawey, ma’muntxate”- “be calm, my mate.”, “Oe omum, sevin ‘evenge,Oe omum” - “I know, pretty girl, I know.”

When you first got your avatar, excited doesn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling. You were finally able to be with your mate, without wearing that annoying mask or always trailing behind him because of his long, confident strides.

You could run faster, climb faster, react faster. You were finally one of the people.

You just wished they had told you about this, though.

The excruciating pain you felt deep in your core, the hot, itchy feeling of needing to be filled to the brim becoming more and more difficult to handle.

You don’t even remember how you ended up on the floor of your hut, or how why the basket of fruits was spilled on the floor, but that didn’t matter. You needed lo’ak.

You crawl over to you and lo’aks bed before climbing on, flopping onto your pillows weakly and tearing your loincloth off, shoving two fingers inside of you with ease.

It’s not enough.

The stretch is nice, but it’s not lo’aks cock stretching you out. You frustratedly pound and curl your fingers into your leaking cunt, searching for a pace that helps you the most.

You huff and whine as you pound at your pussy relentlessly, not satisfied with any pace you experiment with.

Frantically you reach up to your neck, pressing the button on the throat com that was only for you and lo’ak.

“Lo’ak..” you sound weak, as if words are heavy on your tounge.

there’s silence at first, so you go to speak again, but then you hear, “yeah, mama? Are you ok?” He asks, slight panic rushing through him when he hears silence on the other side.

“I need you to..” you take a short breath to hold back the guttural scream you wanted to let out because of the pain. “I need you to come home.” You ask breathlessly, the request makes him already say his goodbyes to his family and damn near sprint towards your hut.

“I’m coming, mama, ok? Just breathe. It’s gonna be alright.” He says softly, a feeling of sadness swirling through his chest at the idea of what you could be going through. And he wasn’t with you.

His voice makes your pace turn more frantic and desperate, soft moans leaving your plush lips, but the second the line goes dead, you groan frustratedly. Pace turning back to what it was before.

The overpowering yet addicting smell loak is hit with when he opens the makeshift door to your hut tells him all that he needed to know, the sight in front of him just proving as more evidence that you were going through your first heat.

The pathetic display in front of him makes a perverted smirk adorn his features, he knew how much pain you were in, and yes he felt fucking horrible because of it, but it was just adorable to watch you shove three fingers into your desperate cunt. All your little frustrated moans, whines, and whimpers made him almost wanna sit in front of you and just watch you, until you were begging for him to do something, anything.

But he wasn’t going to do that. Not today, at least.

He walks over to the bed and sits next to you, gently taking your fingers out of your soaked hole and replacing them with his own, erupting a loud moan from you. “Shsh, babygirl. It’s ok, lemme take care of you, yeah?” He says with a small smile of his face, but his tone was husky and lust filled, just the sound of it had you whimpering pathetically.

You chose to respond with a lazy nod to his words as you tug at his cumberbund, urging him to get closer to you. A little giggle can be heard from lo’ak before he obliges to your request, getting on top of you slowly; peppering all kinds of kisses and bruises in his wake before kissing you passionately.

His lips slide between yours in a perfect harmony, one that makes the burning in your core more unbearable.

Soft moans can be heard from you, and even softer ones from your mate, but you easily picked up on them with the help of your heat. The sound of his noises was enough for you to already feel the knot in your stomach get tighter, instinctively making you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing his body into you more and pressing his fingers even deeper into you.

You nip at his lip roughly, pulling a loud growl from him before he pulls away from you. The sight below him is one he wants to paint in his mind for eternity; your lips were all puffy and raw, face covered in a light purple blush, skin glistening with a layer of sweat, and, fuck..your eyes..they were a completely different shade than their natural color, instead now a dark orange rather than their usual lively green. You looked utterly breathtaking to him.

He leans down to press a quick, loving kiss to your lips before he journeys down the valley of your body; going from your neck, to your chest,making sure to pinch and nip at the hardened buds till he feels his work is done, and when he decides that it is he continues his adventure down until he’s face to face with your glistening cunt.

Just the sight of your pussy splayed out for him like this has his body hot with desire and arousal. A damn near animalistic growl leaving him as he uses his pointer and middle fingers to part your folds, an effortless trail of slick dripping onto his fingers.

You squirm slightly when you feel him part your folds, shallow breaths being blown onto the sensitive flesh, emitting a blissful whimper from you as you reach down to squeeze his free hand for some type of relief. “Fuck, mama…you’re soaked,” his baritone and his remark pulled you out of your haze momentarily, looking down to be met with the huge puddle of your arousal on the bed below you. Shit. You really were soaked.

You only had the chance to feel slightly embarrassed before another wave of pain punched through your core, making you whimper loudly before turning your attention to your mate. “Lo’ak, please! Need you s’bad..” you cried, wrapping a dainty hand around his wrist before grinding into his hand shamelessly.

Lo’ak briefly lets himself be hypnotized by your incoherent stare before snapping out of it, pinning both of your wrists with his hand and wrapping his other around your hip.

“Enough. Lemme help you, yeah? Can you be good for me and let me play with you?” He asked through a thick tone of lust, but It came out as more of a demand than a question. Nevertheless, you obeyed to his request because you wanted to be good for him.

A soft hum of approval came from him before he finally wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves before licking a bold stripe up your pussy. The sensation has you on cloud nine, already hurdling towards the edge once you feel him slide his skilled tongue into your greedy hole, curling it upwards to press against your sweet spot. Making you see stars instantly as loud streams of moans and whimpers left your plush lips.

“Don’t cum, mama. Not yet.” He insisted, now letting your wrist go to lay his hand flat on your stomach. If you could furrow your brows at him, you would. There’s no way you could hold it, not with how over sensitive your heat was making you.

Before you could open your mouth to protest, you’re interrupted by his finger nudging itself inside of you, the length of it now pressing directly against your sweet spot. You knew the coil in your stomach was seconds away from snapping, and so did he. “Lo’ak! Please, I can’t hold it..needa cum s’bad..please!,” you beg, a soft pout on your face when you feel him pull his finger out of you.

Lo’ak smirks at your bratty expression before leaving a sweet kiss to your clit, “Nope. Not yet, mama.” He coos, kissing your clit a few more times before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking softly, making a loud moan leave your lips and a broken plea for him to speed up, to which he denies. He knew that if he were to make you cum now, you’d be ready to go in a matter of seconds. So he wanted to drag it out longer, instead turning those seconds into minutes.

With his hands all over you, combined with his addictingly earthy scent, you knew it wouldn’t take much to get you close again. And sure enough, with just a little more flicks and sucks of your clit, you felt yourself getting closer to letting go.

Lo’ak didn’t even have to ask if you were close, he read you like a book. Which is why he didn’t stop his movements, if anything he increased them.

The sensation was enough to have you shaking, already a mess for him just from some little licks. “Fuck!~ please, lolo! Can I cum? I~ah~I wanna..please..” you babble, brain turning into goo once his tounge slides inside of you, emitting an almost pornographic moan from you. You’re thanking your lucky stars now that your hut is the furthest away from the village.

He taps your thigh lightly, signaling that you can let go as he whispers a sweet “you can cum now, ok mama? Need you to be a good girl for daddy and cum all over my face,” The huskiness in his voice combined with the possessiveness that radiated off of him had you coming undone in a matter of seconds, painting his face with your arousal shamelessly.

He doesn’t let up though, still eagerly sucking and lapping up your juices until you’re begging him to let up. And he does of course, because how could he ever deny you.

You wrap your hands around the sides of his face to pull him into a sloppy yet passionate kiss, moaning lewdly in his mouth when you taste yourself on his tongue.

Wrapping your legs around him, you press his clothed bulge into your cunt, silently urging for him to slide inside of you. He groans into the kiss when he feels your puffy folds rub against his clothed cock, instinctively bucking his hips into you as he pulls away from the kiss so he can look at your eyes. “You sure you’re ready for me, mama?” He asks calmly, but his body said everything he wasn’t.

You nod your head feverishly, responding with a breathless, “fuck, yes lolo, I need it. I need you inside of me, now.” The way those words fell off of your tongue so effortlessly had his cock twitching rapidly, instinctively making you grind into him.

With one last glance of confirmation, he leans in to give you a tender kiss as he hurriedly unties his loincloth. The burning in your core has tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, making you claw at lo’aks broad shoulders and let out a plea of, “Babyboy, please..it hurts so bad.” To which lo’ak responds by cupping your face gently, letting out a soft coo of, “Oe omum, sevin ‘evenge,Oe omum…gonna~mhm, fuck..~make it better, ok?,” as he slides his bulbous tip into your leaking hole.

A small shriek comes from you when he presses his tip inside of you, you’ve had sex before, yes, but the stretch is something you’ll never get used to. By the time he’s halfway in you swear you can feel him in your stomach, making you cry out as he twitches inside of you. “Mawey, ma’muntxate..you’re doing so well for me. Just need you to relax and breathe for me ok?” He consoles, trying his best to focus on his own breathing the more you clench around him.

His words soothe you slightly, letting him slide the rest of himself inside of you with ease. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and he was only halfway in. He was so close to being buried so deeply inside of you, you swear you were spraining from it. The burning sensation in your core was bubbling up the more he eased inside of you, and now that he was finally pressed against your gummy walls you felt like fresh water was thrown onto you.

But it still wasn’t enough, you needed to feel fuller, needed him to spill his hot, sticky cum inside of you until you tasted it on your tongue.

“Mama, You alri-“

“Move.” Is all you mutter to him before you wrap your tail around his waist, urging him to set a relentless pace. And he gets the memo quickly, pounding at your over sensitive cunt relentlessly as he wraps his free hand around your throat gently, the other wrapped around your hip so tight you knew there was going to be a bruise on it.

The pace has you seeing stars, wrapping your legs around him firmly to get him closer inside of you, but that was stopped by him throwing your legs over his shoulders effortlessly. Folding you in half under his hulking frame as if you weigh nothing.

“Stay still. Don’t make you tell you again.” He demanded through a thick growl, and you swear you saw his eyes change color; going from green to a deep shade of red before going back to normal. It made you shudder, he was practically dripping in dominance and you were craving more of it. Especially with the way he’s slamming into that sensitive spongy heat relentlessly, making all kinds of moans and whimpers spill from your lips.

The unraveling of coil in your stomach gets more and more unbearable with each one of his brutal, yet particular, thrust. Causing all kinds of pleas and yelps to slip from your mouth, hoping your mate would understand your babbling. “Wanna cum, mama? Shit..can’t tell by the way this cute little pussy is squeezing me. Almost like she doesn’t want me to pull out…is that right, baby? You want me to fill this greedy pussy up till it takes?” You nod incoherently, body shuddering from the idea of lo’ak stuffing you full with his cum.

He knew his words were only gonna make your orgasm even more intense, and make the next one subside slowly, but he couldn’t help it. You just look so adorable all drunk and needy on his cock. How could he not spur you (and honestly himself) on more by promising to breed you?

You grip onto his biceps hard enough to leave bruises, using your hold on him as an anchor as you come undone with a long moan, tears spilling down your face from the intensity of it. “Awhh, already crying, mama?- ah fuck-Such a sensitive girl, i make you cum once and you’re already a mess. My poor girl..” He teases with a fake sympathy in his tone. His words make you whimper pathetically, more tears spilling over your eyes when he doesn’t stop pounding at your raw pussy.

“Lo’ak..i-i-mhm!~..ca-n’t..wanna…” you didn’t even know if he understood what you were saying, hell, you didn’t even understand it. But the soft chuckle that came from him told you everything you needed to know. “I know,princess. You’re being such a good girl for me, you know that? So fucking-mhm~ tight and warm for me. So perfect,” he grunted, the grip on your waist tightening the sloppier his thrust got. You whine in response to his soft praises, tugging him in by his biceps so he can get somehow closer to you.

He swear he could feel his heart ache at the sight of your needy, fucked out expression and the sensation of your soft, warm walls clamping down onto him makes him groan lowly, cock twitching inside of you the closer he gets. “Gonna..gonna put a baby in you, ok mama? Gonna look so..fuck-..so pretty all swollen with my baby in you.” He mumbles before cumming inside of you with a guttural growl, triggering you to soak his cock and lower abdomen as you come undone once again.

The thick ropes of his warm cum painting your gummy walls has the pain of your heat fading away, untill it eventually turns into nothing. For now.

Quiet whimpers and moans turn into heavy breaths once you come down from your high, but lo’ak was still rutting into your slick walls. Instinctively, you try to push away from the overstimulation, but that was stopped by the iron grip on your hip and the aggressive hiss that came from your mate.

His eyes were now a deep shade of red, and his body was on fire. The heat combined with his addicting pheromones triggered the second wave of your heat.

“Lo- wa-ah!-wait! Slow down please, babyb-“

“Hush. Let me use your precious little cunt. And If you’re good for me, I’ll knot you. Sound good?” He told you as he flipped you over so you were now on your hands and knees, wasting no time to situate himself back inside of you so he can continue ramming into your silky pussy. Your body submitting to him effortlessly as he angels your hips so he can ram into your sweet spot deeper.

Even though the haze of your heat, you knew this was going to be a long night.

A/N~ this ask has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHSSSS so I’m so sorry to the nonnie who sent this in, I promise I wasn’t ignoring you, boo. Also this turned out way longer than I expected, at least it’s smth😚 I hope you enjoyed this, nonnie!. Stay safe and stay hydrated, babies. I love you all endlessly.

Duces🫶🏽,

Luvv4j4ybe11

Taglist~ @tallulah477 , @hotdsworld , @plooto , @blue-slxt , @itchaboi-itchyboy , @xylianasblog , @etherial-moon-blog , @criticallybella, @professional-yapper, @rivatar, @aperiraa

(If you’d like to be added to or removed from my general taglist, please lmk! And if your tag isn’t working check your settings💕)

#༄❤︎︎𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬❤︎︎༄#༄❤︎︎𝐣𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬❤︎︎༄#avatar #luvv4j4ybe11 #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #loak sully #atwow loak #lo’ak sully smut #lo’ak x female reader #avatar lo’ak #lo’ak smut #lo’ak sully #lo’ak avatar #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #aged up loak #avatar twow

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redysetdare · 2 years

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Every issue i have with season 3

Putting under the cut because this is a Rant and i will be angry and critical and I know not everyone likes that.

also LMK S3 spoilers below...obviously.

Even after sleeping on it though, I realize how much some decisions of season 3 have really irked me.

1st thing being the samadhi fire and how they handled it as a whole. Now I’m not too pissy over the fact they changed the backstory for it, Monkie kid is kind of notorious for not following journey to the west for to a T but the way they handle the fire DOES kind of leave a ton of questions continuity wise. Like how in season 2 Tang DOES mention Red son’s original story but if the Samadhi fire was taken from him then that story shouldn’t exist....and if it was before the fire way taken then by the shows logic the dumping of an entire ocean shouldn’t of extinguished it - because the fact is that the fire CAN be extinguished, it just took an entire ocean to do it. Because in the book the fire is a blue flame that cannot be put out by water and instead gets strengthened from it and can travel OVER the top of water. but i digress this is more of a pet peeve.

The main issue i have with the Samadhi fire is actually who they gave it to... which was Mei. My first issue with them giving it to Mei is that 1. it felt like they HAD to change the Samadhi fire’s entire origin for it to make sense and it felt like a forced change because they realized it wouldn’t fit what they wanted to end up happening. second issue is that they LITERALLY TOOK RED SONS THING AND GAVE IT TO ANOTHER CHARACTER???? Red son was right there, they legit could’ve just used him but instead they bent over backwards to make it MEI???? Like literally Red son’s whole story in journey to the west is that he forged the samadhi fire over YEARS and YEARS of perfecting and training his fire abilities and is the ONLY ONE to wield it and they TOOK THAT AWAY FROM HIM??? 3rd is.... what’s even the deal with her having it? her grandpa held it so now she holds it too??? did her parents both have the ability to be the ring to or does that pass down once they have a kid? WHY DID THE FAMILY JUST NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS???

Literally if they wanted Mei to do something cool they could’ve done a billion other things but instead they decided to give her an extremely powerful fire which now is like.... nice she was a dragon before but now she’s gonna be super OP with dragon AND samadhi fire....if she knows to control it now then how will anything be a threat ever with how strong they made that fire?

2nd big issue: This season did not feel like it was about MK and it was frustrating that he didn’t actually get focused on in what is HIS OWN SHOW??? We never got to see him fully get back his powers, in fact we only saw shrinking, gold vision, shapeshifting, AND A SINGLE CLONE APPEARED BUT NO EXPLANATION ON HOW PARTY CLONE EVEN FUCKING GOT THERE? Now i can get if they didn’t want MK to be a focus but it felt like they were trying to make him a focus along with everyone else, which doesn’t work in a 10 episode span (and no u cant tell me he was the focus of the 4 specials because HE WAS NOT. THAT WAS ALL MEI)

Idk i think with the vision we saw of him from lady bone demon in season 2 you think something more was planned for his character but ig the team forgot about him exploding into blue flames in those visions... I just feel like they had planned more but then switched it around on us.

another issue is Macaque. ohhh Macaque.... idk i think them bringing up that YES HE DID DIE IN JTTW and his connection to the bone demon like that was interesting. i have no issues withthat. ITS THE ONE LINE THAT TANG SAYS ABOUT REDEMPTION THAT GETS ME. MACAQUE SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN LABELED AS REDEEMED. I’m sorry but i’m firmly of the belief that he has literally done too much to be redeemed simply because he helped the group ONCE to fight a greater evil. that is not redemption. can it be the START to redemption? definitely. but they just kind of.... added him to the group as a friend as if he wasn’t trying to kill and traumatize MK for 3 entire seasons. also the group being like “oh we know you aren’t in it for yourself” was stupid because Macaque has ONLY been shown to be in itt for himself and we just have to be told that “no guys look he really isn't” and then are not shown it or even hinted at that being the case anytime before that? right. That just comes off as sloppy writing to try fulfill either fan desire or they are rushing characters to points they want them to be.

Overall this season felt like it was poorly written and rushed beyond belief and part of me knows it was because they are on a 10 episode season model but also all previous seasons did just fine on a 10 episode model - so why does this one feel so BAD? It felt like they were trying to shove too much into one season that it felt like it jumped around with no real idea of WHERE or WHAT they wanted to focus on and would have to twist things to work in their favor instead of just...going the simple route. it just... it didn’t feel like monkie kid if that makes sense. this season doesn’t feel like a monkie kid season. this doesn’t feel like the last two and ik the stakes are higher but...it still should’ve felt like monkie kid. it shouldn’t be leaving me feeling like i didn’t watch monkie kid.

i feel like maybe if they had more episodes then maybe some things could’ve been fix but i think the main issue is in the story decisions that the team decided to go in that just...really ruined this season for me.

and like... i love this show. i adore it. it’s my biggest hyperfixation and is so dear to me...so to have it be so disappointing really sucks. because my brain just can’t stop thinking about how disappointed i am over the season.

and maybe I’m way off the mark. I know this is 100% my opinion and are my issues alone with this season and maybe i’m analyzing my issues wrong but they are still my issues. I didn’t go into this season planning to be disappointed. i looked at the season with high hopes and excitement that just...got killed off. a show shouldn’t do that.

#text #again not putting in the main tag because i dont wanna cause problems #but i really needed to get this all out there before i completely lost it #this bs kept me up at night #i couldn't stop thinking about it #i feel like they set themselves up too big which lead to disappointment #maybe that was me being over hyped but everything here felt....lack luster and bad and it left me frustrated and unfulfilled in this season #maybe season 4 does things better... cause i think we have a 4th season planned right?#tho idk how they plan to do that season seeing as lady bone was a pretty big deal #i hope they dont make a problem out of constantly having to outdo their last villains #anyways enjoy my little rant ig #you dont have to agree with me about it this is just for me really

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glitterdeerswritingblog · 1 year

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You Belong With Me Prologue Blurb: This is when Sophie and Amy first go to live with Grady and Edaline. It kinda sets up the rest of the story. Just trust me. I finally just sat down and wrote it after thinking about it for ages, and I'm proud of myself. Fair warning: In this AU, Jolie is alive, they're all humans, Jolie will be staying alive, she Brant and Vertinia are in a V relationship where she dates both of them and Brant and Vertinia are just friends, and Keefe is adopted by Grady and Edaline. If you want to be tagged in any of my other writing, lmk <3

‐----‐-------------------------------------------------------------------

Grady and Edaline were standing hand in hand, their smiles warm and genuine.

Sophie and Amy sat on the couch nervously.

Two other kids sat on the stairs: The first was a blond boy with ice blue eyes and a smirk that screamed mischief. He looked about Sophie and Amy’s ages, wearing a tee-shirt and shorts. His arms were covered in elaborate drawings, and he had three sharpie markers sticking out of his left pocket. Then there was the girl. Tall and elegant looking with Edaline’s hair and Grady’s bone structure. She looked so much older than them, and she was also smiling gently, as if trying not to scare Amy and Sophie away.

They all just sat staring at each other until Grady spoke up. “So maybe we should all introduce ourselves.”

Edaline nodded. “I’ll go first. I’m Edaline, and my husband Grady and I run a zoology preserve. Sometimes we even bring them home to take care of so if you like animals, you’re in for a treat. Jolie is our daughter biologically, and we adopted Keefe a few years ago because his parents had some… issues.”

“They couldn’t handle me,” Keefe said. “They both get to visit me when they feel like it, so it works better this way. Anyways, I’m an artist!” He pulled the sharpies out of his pocket. “I can draw mustaches on your fingers!”

“Can I get a finger mustache?” Amy asked shyly.

“Of course!” Keefe practically ran over. He had her stick out her finger, and then started drawing diligently, tongue sticking out of his mouth. “There,” he said once he finished. “Now it matches mine!”

Both Keefe and Amy put their index fingers to their upper lips, laughing at each other.

“So, what’s your name?” Jolie asked her.

“I’m Amy,” Amy introduced. Then she gestured to Sophie. “And that’s Sophie.”

Sophie waved shyly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you two,” Jolie said, crouching down to be at Sophie’s eye level. “I’m Jolie. I’m 17. How old are you guys?”

Sophie stayed quiet.

Amy chirped, “Sophie’s eight and I’m nine!”

“I’m nine too!” Keefe exclaimed. “When’s your birthday?”

“December 14th!”

“Mine’s December 16th!”

“AWESOME!” They shouted in unison, high-fiving and giggling.

“Oh great,” Sophie muttered deadpan. “There’s two of them.”

“So you can talk,” Jolie said with a laugh.

“It’s a miracle.”

“So much sass for such a small person. I think my girlfriend Vertinia would like you. And my boyfriend Brant.”

“You have a boyfriend and a girlfriend? Like, at the same time?” Amy asked, star-struck.

“It’s so awesome!” Keefe said. “And I get to do double the menacing brother talks.”

Jolie laughed and ruffled his hair. “Yes, they’re incredibly terrified of you.”

Keefe puffed out his chest. “They should be.”

Jolie snorted again and stood up to her full height.

Keefe jumped up at her, and she picked him up. “Is it muffin time yet?!”

“Yes,” she told him before turning to Amy and Sophie. “Mom and I made muffins to welcome you into the family.”

“And dad and I tried to eat them all to welcome you into the family!” Keefe said, hopping down from Jolie's arms. “But they wouldn’t let us have any. So let’s go!”

Amy and Keefe screamed “MUFFINS!!” like a war cry and took off running.

Sophie looked over at Grady, Edaline, and Jolie, her honey brown eyes meeting their blue and turquoise ones. “It’s gonna be a long day.”

#sophitz au #sophitz fic #fitzphie au #fitzphie fic #The 10 Things Autumn Edited and the One that Stuck (for now)#fitzphie #sophitz #sophitz positivity #fitzphie positivity #kotlc #kotlc edaline #kotlc grady #kotlc keefe #kotlc amy #kotlc jolie

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lovely-angst · 3 years

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the first time they meet you

a/n: im trying things out with doing three quick fics with one prompt. lmk how you like it.

genre: fluff

pairing: bakugou x reader, hawks x reader, dabi x reader

summary: the first time he sees/meets you

word count: 1.6k

08.04.21

bakugou - coffee shop

it was a long, long day of patrol for bakugou.

he had so much on his plate that day from staying late the night before to finish some reports and then having to wake up early for his daily patrol—not to mention all of the inconveniences of catching and apprehending some wannabe villains.

thankfully, he was able to get off work by the time the had begun to set. golden hues decorating the evening sky as bakugou walked back towards his apartment.

his feet were sore and ached from being on his toes all day. all bakugou wanted to do was to relax in the comfort and silence of his home.

taking a seat on a short concrete block wall, bakugou pulls the mask up over his eyes to push his bangs back, allowing the subtle breeze to cool him down as he took a small breather from his exhaustion.

he didn't have the energy to do anything.

"dynamight?" a small voice calls out before bakugou turns his head in their direction. you stood a few feet away from him timidly, but a smile on your face as you gently approached the unapproachable male.

"sorry, i'm not doing any autographs or pictures right now," he mumbled out exhaustedly, but to his surprise, you shook your head. "no, i'm not here for that," you say before taking a step back to gesture towards the cafe behind you, "i was wondering if you would like to come in and i can quickly get you something to eat and drink?"

bakugou glanced over at the empty cafe before glancing back at you and back at the cafe.

"it was a shock to see you outside the cafe and you look really exhausted. it's the least i can do for you," you continue, "you don't have to worry about fans, i'm about to close the cafe right now, so no one should be coming,"

bakugou knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself when his feet ached with every step and the tiredness was beginning to consume his body.

"fine, just this once," he answered, pushing himself up and off the concrete before following you, who beamed with happiness.

as you walked in, you held the door open for the pro hero before you stepped back out to grab the menu board before flipping the sign from 'open' to 'close', letting the door shut behind you.

"would you like some coffee? or do you prefer tea?" you question as you walk behind the counter, preparing a few things for him. bakugou sat down at one of the empty tables, glancing around at the peaceful and aesthetic atmosphere.

"tea," he states, "i'm not a big coffee person," you hum in response, "i'll get you one of our refreshing tea drinks then. i think you'll like it."

it wasn't long before you came back out with a thirst-quenching drink and a nice hearty little sandwich with it.

"i added a sandwich for you filled with healthy and light ingredients so it'll give you the energy to finish your day. i hope the drink is to your liking as well," you explain, listing out the different ingredients, "i'll be here cleaning up while you finish. take your time."

bakugou was very thankful for the sandwich if he was honest—he was starving, having skipped his lunch earlier. taking a bite of the sandwich, he noted the different textures and flavors that mixed well together. ontop of that, the drink was great by itself and even better with the sandwich.

his eyes drifted off towards you, who bobbed your head gently to the quiet background music of the cafe, moving in every which way to finish closing up your shop.

after quickly finishing off his small meal, he brought the dishes back to you and you happily accepted them, declining to accept any payment, "it's on me! you enjoying the meal is more than enough!"

"also, why not try stopping by during one of your early shifts for some coffee? relax and refuel before your long day as a hero?," you suggest with those bright eyes of yours.

bakugou couldn't help the slight lift of the corner of his lips, "i might just have to."

hawks - after a mission

hawks had just gotten done with a rather stressful rescue due to the many kids on the site he had to protect. thankfully he had all of his feathers and was able to use them to protect the kids while his sidekicks were busy securing the villain.

"are you kids okay?" hawks questioned as he was able to usher them into a safe corner away from the action. "i'm okay mr.hawks!"

hawks let out a small smile before patting the young child on the head. "where is miss (name)?"

hawks opened his mouth just as a soothing yet worried voice cut through the sirens and the commotion. turning around, hawks laid his eyes on you and his heart skipped a beat.

stepping aside from the kids, you ran over towards the children before kneeling down on their level to give them all hugs, checking them over for any injuries, "oh, i'm so glad you are all safe! i was so worried! are you okay? are you hurt anywhere?"

one of the little girls shook their head before pointing up at hawks, "i'm okay! mr.hawks saved us!"

turning around, you quickly stood up before giving him a very polite bow, "thank you so much, hawks! i am forever grateful!"

"no need to be so formal! i'm just doing my job," he responds with a smile, only for panic to set in when he sees the blood streaming down from your head. "miss! your head is bleeding, we need to get you checked out!"

"oh, i think this is from when I blocked the kids earlier from falling debris. i feel fine," you respond, which makes hawks worry even more.

hawks quickly calls for his sidekicks to stay with the children while he goes to get you checked up on. thankfully, there was a medical team nearby and hawks waited with you as they patched you up.

"again, thank you so much for saving my kids back there. I don't know what i would do if they had gotten hurt. you're an amazing hero." you compliment, sitting on the back of an ambulance as the medic carefully wraps your head to stop the bleeding.

"i could say the same about you," hawks starts, "you didn't hesitate to risk your life for those kids—you're the real hero. "

a shy smile forms on your lips as you look away from the very handsome man in front of you, "well, i love my kids. i'd do anything for them."

hawks couldn't help but admire you.

"i'm (name) by the way," you say, holding a hand out towards the hero. hawks smiles at you, reaching over to give your hand a firm shake.

"hawks. nice to meet you, (name)."

dabi - flower shop

dabi usually hated the rain, but today, he was thankful for it.

he had just escaped from some pro heroes and hid in a small alleyway in a quiet part of town away from any heroes. the cool droplets of water felt refreshing on his burning skin after overusing his quirk. though, he wasn't sure the injuries he sustained would heal quickly with the rain.

hearing a small bell ring, dabi quickly pressed himself up against the wall as he listened for any movement.

"ah it's raining!" a voice called out before their alarmed footsteps ran about, causing the puddles to splash every which way. suddenly, a pail of flowers fell into his view before you quickly bent down to pick them back up.

sensing someone staring, you turned and your eyes were met with his bright blue ones, causing you to squeak and fall back, "y-you scared me!" you cried before picking yourself back up and frowning at your dirtied outfit.

"hey, are you okay?" you asked as you carefully walked toward him. "you're bleeding! let me go get a medical kit," you explained before running around the corner to your flower shop.

but dabi knew better.

you were going to call the heroes on him, you only used that as an excuse to get away. standing up with all of the power he could muster, dabi limped his way down the street as far as he could—away from you.

"hey! where are you going!" you cried as dabi heard more splashes behind him, your small pitter-patters against the puddles.

turning around, dabi's eyes widened as he watched you chase after him in the rain, your hair getting wet with the rain and sticking to your face as you caught up with the male.

"let's hide from the rain over here," you say as you gently help dabi away from the rain before settling him down on a bench. "don't you know who i am?" dabi asked frustratedly, but you just continued to clean and dress his wounds. "sorry, i don't, but i can care less about that right now," you respond to dabi's surprise.

dabi watched as you carefully cleaned him up, watching the raindrops slide down your soft skin.

"that should do it," you say, standing back with a smile. dabi follows your movements, "thanks doll, but i gotta run," he responds, throwing his hood over his head.

"oh, well, stay safe then," you respond as the two of you enter back into the rain. he gives you a playful smile before vanishing from your view.

walking back to your flower shop to finish bringing your flowers back, you thought that would be the last of him. but to your surprise a few days later, tied onto the handle of your shop was a blue rose with a note attached,

'thanks for the other day, doll.

- dabi'

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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Searing Starlight (chapter two)

A/n Chapter twooo!! I cannot believe the support I’ve been getting on here im so excited to share my six of crows/shadow and bone fics with y’all!

Lmk if you’d like to be tagged when I update this story!! And just letting y’all know I take requests so if you have an idea you’d like to see me attempt feel free to comment it or send it in :))

At least Kaz’s claimed ‘wraith’ (which is such an odd thing to just have) is a girl, and a seemingly kind one at that. She was quick to find me, body pressed into wooden shelves and glass bottles, and subtly gesture for me to follow her. It had been difficult to keep track of her flighty form through the crowd, but I think there was a point in her strange raveling, to make sure no one was following me.

She’s not particularly talkative, but she doesn’t seem bothered by me. She tossed me a random oversized shirt to pull over my dress when she saw how I kept adjusting the fabric and crossing my arms. That was kinder than she needed to be. I think I’ll like her.

“So you’re a wraith,” I manage, breaking the nervous silence, “Like a full time, constantly on-call wraith.”

The question seems to puzzle her, dark eyebrows drawing together. “Yes.” The corner of her mouth twitches up slightly, a smile. “A full time, constantly on-call wraith.” She hesitates, perfect stance adjusting. “What were you doing before?”

Great. This question. “Nothing important.” It’s not a fair cop-out. Especially since she answered my question. “I um...I’m indentured to Rollan Kenya.”

I watch her reaction to the name. Some know of him. Some revere him. Some loathe him and everything he’s associated with. “His religious interpretations are controversial.”

“If you think what he says to the public is bad you should hear what he says in private.” I push myself further into the chair I’m in.

Something strange flickers over her features. “I can imagine.”

Shaking my head, I hope I’m ending this conversation. “What’s your name?”

A hesitation. “Inej.”

I nod once, “I’m y/n.”

“Do you need water, y/n?”

I scratch my still exposed knee. “That’d be nice. Thank you.”

She’s quick to leave, feet making no noise. A minute later she returns with a cup. I have no reason to suspect her, but I still sniff the cup before taking a cautious sip. I wonder if Anya made it back home. I wonder if she’s worse off for it.

Before I can fall into a pit of debating despair, the door to the room Inej took me to squeaks open. On instinct, I snap my gaze towards the door, tensing. The first person I notice is Kaz, entering the room with a determination too intense for this time of night. Jesper is quick to follow, and I drop my stare. I’ve never had to interact with anyone I’ve lied to after taking their money.

“Are they gone?” Inej asks, clearly accustomed to such brooding tension.

Kaz nods once, “It took too much convincing--the Inferni’s more than she’s letting on.”

I’m literally in the room. “I’m not--we’ve spoken two words to each other, sorry my abilities didn’t come up.”

He turns towards me with a deadly grace. My grip on the cup tightens. What the hell is wrong for me? How deeply instilled is that god complex Kenya wanted in me? It must be as part of me as my name if I felt comfortable enough to speak that way to Kaz Brekker.

I keep my eyes on his cane, waiting for some kind of physical retaliation. “Maybe the grisha hunting you would appreciate your sense of humor more.”

It’s a bluff. He needs me. He’s desperate for something that can mimic a Sun Summoner. Still though, I’m not in the mood to poke a bear with a stick. “Speaking from experience,” I clear my throat awkwardly, “They tend not to.”

“Then I suggest you begin explaining before I decide I’d rather take my chances and you lose your worth.”

Maybe if I hadn’t spent the last eleven years of my life with Kenya, his words would haunt me. I keep my expression set, but the lanterns in the room flicker. “It’s not as impressive as they’re making it seem--Inferni can produce fire, regular, red, bright fire.” I pause, feeling energy in my palms. “I can do the same, but I can also,” I extend a flat palm, “Do this.”

I focus my energy on restraint, forcing the fire on my skin to remain there, covering my palms in a cold, blue glow. “It’s still fire, just blue--and that matters to them because blue light is the only kind you can use in the Fold.” Do they know anything about the fold? “Kenya, the man I’m indentured to, believes that this ability makes me eligible for Sainthood. He specializes in collecting people he thinks are eligible for Sainthood.” The low flame coating my palm licks upwards as I remember what disappointing Kenya means. “And if you don’t meet his standards, he’ll find a way to make sure you do. That’s why the grisha want me. He made me more and they believe that if they give me to someone who can give me an amplifier I’ll be able to produce enough blue light to protect an entire fleet.”

“What do you mean ‘he’ll find a way to make sure you do’?” Inej’s voice is cautious. An attempt to be respectful.

I drop my palm, letting the fire disappear into nothingness. “I wasn’t born with the ability to control the blue light so well--It’s difficult enough to produce for longer than two seconds let alone keep it from burning everything in sight. By the time I ended up in Kenya’s control he had learned that certain stimulants. Some scientists are working on a more grisha-targeted kind, but Kenya has managed to work with the generic well enough.” Hands shaking, I wipe the condensation off the side of the cup and hold out my wrist. Using the condensation, I begin to wipe at my wrist and forearm, smearing my makeup and revealing the needle bruises. “The key is withdrawals.”

Thoughts of begging Kenya, crying and screaming for another fix as he promised to give me that as soon as I showed some control of my abilities, make the shaking in my hand worse. I clasp my hands together, squeezing them in hopes of hiding the signs of withdrawal.

I stare at the ground, not wanting to take anyone’s reaction in. I handle pity as well as I handle kindness.

“Do you think you could produce enough blue light for one ship?”

Looking up, I take in Kaz’s measured expression. I’m glad he’s sticking to business. I’d rather that than deal with unpacking all of that with a group of strangers that don’t care if I live or die.

“I could try.” I’ve never tried to protect anything that large. “Even if I can, it doesn’t mean a voyage like that will be safe.”

“There’s no real safety in the Fold,” he replies easily. Realistic expectations. That will make this easier. “No one finds out about her--especially not Pekka Rollins.”

I pull my arm towards my body, glad for the opportunity to hide the bruises. Signs of my weakness. The worst part was always the way Kenya would speak to me after. Pathetic. Weak. Trapped within the restraints of my flesh.

“Who’s Pekka Rollins?”

Kaz briefly turns his head in my direction. “No one that will ever concern you.” He ignores my annoyed huff. “We’ll use the Inferni to get to Alina Starkov.”

Alina. Alina Starkov. “What do you want with Alina?”

At that, the room seems to drain. I feel weirder than when they were seeing my abilities.

“You know her?” Jesper’s surprise reveals more than Kaz wants him to. I don’t miss the glare he receives.

I half-shrug. “We were in the same orphanage for awhile.”

“How did you get to Ketterdam?” I don’t trust Kaz’s urgency.

“I don’t remember, I was a child and I--I hit my head that night I think. I just woke up and I was with Kenya.”

“How well do you know Alina?”

There was a point in time in which she was my best friend. We learned how to braid hair by practicing on each other, we would draw maps together, and I was the only one who knew about her crush on Mal. “Not that well.”

He takes a step forward, eyes almost squinting. The touch of distrust is evident on his face. “If you’re lying I’ll find out.”

I owe Alina at least this. “Well then it’s a good thing I’m not.”

I’m not naive enough to believe that I’ve convinced him, but his intense gaze does not remain on me. I’m relieved when his attention is off of me, but he’s only moving on to start planning the riskiest thing I’ve ever done.

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)

Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.

A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.

Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.

That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments.

They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events.

Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt.

Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it.

To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.

Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate.

If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend.

For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts.

He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me.

He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong.

“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”

“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”

I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point.

And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!

“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun.

“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.”

He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!

The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us.

They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.

“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room.

I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.

“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug.

Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself.

“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.

“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?”

“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.”

Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery.

It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.

30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me.

Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction.

Grant: can you ft tonight?

Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime.

For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.

Grant: you look stunning today

Me: you haven’t even seen me today

Grant: don’t need to.

Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me.

“Who keeps texting you?”

I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business.

“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.

With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.

“Nosy much?!”

This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it.

I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.

“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it.

“No one.”

He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going.

“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me.

Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?

“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously.

“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.

“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet.

Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing.

Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.

“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).

“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?”

“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?”

“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.”

I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?

“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’”

This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade.

“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.

Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.”

I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid.

“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”

Bastard.

For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him.

And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub.

“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance.

“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly.

“No, sir.”

I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me.

It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him.

However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field.

“You are not going in without a gun,” Reid ordered.

“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.

Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again.

When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in.

“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.

If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me.

The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling.

“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more.

“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?”

“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”

I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”

This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return.

He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’

“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent.

I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out.

“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.”

I stormed out of the locker room seeing red.

This war was far from over.

_ _ _

“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good.

I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them.

I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing.

“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly.

She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.

“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.”

From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”

“Mhm.” I lied.

“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.”

“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.

“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked.

I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all.

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.”

What you feel.

I clung onto those words.

What was I really feeling?

Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me?

Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?

“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me.

Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast.

“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me.

“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely.

“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added.

I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier.

“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”

“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked.

Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer.

I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence.

Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too.

He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.

_ _ _

In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation.

I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way.

He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual.

“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?”

I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew.

“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.

“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken.

“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat.

“A dating app, actually.”

The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this.

What a dick.

Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?”

Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.”

I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.”

“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now.

“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung.

For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed.

Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice.

I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’

The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though.

I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.

“I figured I’d find you here.”

It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?”

He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling.

“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead.

“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”

“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face.

He felt sorry for me.

Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book.

“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”

“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”

“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.”

Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.

“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.”

The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.”

Not a shadow of a doubt in his words.

Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.

Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t.

But I should’ve.

_ _ _

My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being.

It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end.

Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.

As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.

“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat.

I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would.

I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative.

“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”

It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?”

His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”

“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it.

Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction.

I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.

“Whatever you say, trouble.”

_ _ _

Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however.

After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it.

How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.

Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this.

Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!

Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were.

Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now?

But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me.

Me: yeah, they’re super comfy

Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic

As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them.

I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones.

In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head.

You deserve more than that. Much more.

Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said.

To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened.

Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.

My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see.

“I asked you first.”

Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.”

Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before.

“No, that’s impossible.”

“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know.

“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”

My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me.

“What? What is it?” I urged.

“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?”

Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth.

He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.

“Did Grant give them to you?”

I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.”

Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”

“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?”

I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”

How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was.

Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.”

I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second.

He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”

He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed.

This wasn’t me, and even he knew that.

“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize.

That never came.

He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust.

A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments.

“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..

Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness.

When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.

I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.”

Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).”

I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either.

Oh, God, I’m so fucked up.

_ _ _

Spencer’s POV

Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too.

Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I.

Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well.

Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.

My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field.

She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room.

I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.

Grant.

And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.

Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?”

The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet.

“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer.

I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it.

“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.”

She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?”

Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart.

“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat.

“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.”

Kill me now.

“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here.

“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?”

I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes.

“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least.

I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity.

The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though.

“Need any help in there?” I called out.

“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something.

“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.”

“Nope. I’m good.” Liar.

I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”

“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me.

I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me.

The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again.

Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again.

She liked that.

“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.”

“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image.

“Always, trouble.”

The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know.

What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help.

Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.”

How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.

“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation.

“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her.

_ _ _

The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left.

I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied.

Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety.

Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D.

Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful.

There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright.

If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened.

Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.

In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.

But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.

At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?”

If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?”

I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”

“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.”

My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before.

“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?”

The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”

My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.

“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”

I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before.

“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit.

The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority.

She was my priority.

Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear.

It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.

“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver.

The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms.

Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?

With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand.

Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms.

She was so cold.

Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”

“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute.

After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again.

“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all.

“I don’t wanna fight with you either.”

That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car.

It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way.

Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.

“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly.

“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible.

“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”

My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there.

I need to be somewhere I feel safe.

And that’s wherever I’m with you.

_ _ _

Reader’s POV

Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.

I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.

I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.

“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself.

I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize.

For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.

“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever.

I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.

“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?”

“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly.

“Then why did you call me tonight?”

“Why did you answer?”

He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.”

I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.”

This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too.

“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”

Shouldn’t have done that.

For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind.

“You’re smart. Figure it out.”

“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence.

“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?”

Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?”

He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”

He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point?

My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”

His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt.

“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”

With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?”

He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth.

“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’

“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never.

“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him.

“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”

He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything.

“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.

“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us.

All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet.

Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting.

“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!

complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid

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#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid kiss #fighting fire with fire #juniorgman187 #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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liighty · 3 years

Text

Guzma babysitting Reader’s Niece

(A/N): BACK ON MY BULLSHIT AGAIN! BUT THIS TIME IT’S NOT ALL THAT SELF-INDULGENT AND MIGHT POSSIBLY BE TURNED INTO A SUPER FIC IF I FEEL LIKE IT

In all honesty i’ve thought about making another largeass super self-indulgent Guzma x Reader mega fic, but I’m not sure if I want to? I don’t know if anybody would read it, so that’s what this post is for!!! If you like this and want to see actual Guzma x Reader with plot and not just fluff drabbles lmk!! I have a bunch of asks to address so maybe i’ll get to that too soon

Anyways, back to the fic.

Mini Summary: (Y/N)’s niece needs to be babysat while (Y/N) is interviewed, so they turn to Guzma and crew to help out for a bit. Chaos ensues.

Rating/Triggers: UH drugs are mentioned but not really? THE KID DOES NOT DO DRUGS!!!! but yeah if that makes you uncomfy i’d be careful with it??\

Pairing: Guzma/Gender Neutral!Reader (I used the honorific ‘Titi’ which is gender neutral for ‘Tia’ or ‘Tio’ [extra thanks to Ocha_Bocha for helping me with that one <3] and tried to make it as gender neutral as possible. Originally this was written with a male reader, and then I went female, and ultimately attempted to eliminate gender completely. [Following the footsteps of Splatoon teehee])

Fic under cut!!!!!

"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey?" You clutch your niece's hand as you approach the large walls that separate Po Town from the rest of Ula'Ula Island. It's not that you don't trust the man who you're leaving her with- in fact, those two have been acquainted previously and seem to get along fairly well- It's his friends who you're concerned about.

"..." Her silence is expected, as the kid isn't all that talkative. Recognizing the young girl's silence, you frown.

"You can stay in the office lounge if you really want to. I know you aren't the biggest fan of crowds, and um- Guz has some pretty loud friends-" Your explanation of what to be expected is quickly interrupted by a blue haired young man decked in black and white clothing. "Yo yo, what's with the kid?!"

You arch a brow. You knew that Guzma worked with kids, but this guy couldn't be any older than 15! "I could say the same for you. I'm here to talk to Guzma-"

"Ya mean the boss? Why would some random chick want anything ta do with the leader of the Team Skull, huh?!"

A pink haired girl dressed in the same outfit walks up to the boy, crossing her arms. "Shut it, ya clod. Don't you remember the conversation we had with Boss yesterday?"

Hearing this, the blue haired boy's eyes light up in an epiphany. "Ohhhhh shit- Right-"

"Watch yer fuckin' language around the kiddo." She lightly smacks the back of Dansei's head. "She's in good hands, ma'am."

Another pink haired woman, this one being someone you finally recognize, walks in and smacks both of the delinquents in the head once more. "You say that after cussing, Reese?"

Thank God. Plumeria. "Hey Plumes-" You smile weakly, waving politely with your free hand. Your niece does the same. Another young man, this one much shorter than the first and with green curly hair scrambles after Plumeria, jumping up and down to be seen. "Sorry about these numskulls. I'll lead y'all to the big boss man, yo. No worries at all, so you can chillax!"

I'm regretting this more and more by the second.

The crew starts whistling some hip hop tune as they make their way to the Shady House, the smaller boy beatboxing. You've taken this time to offer a piggyback ride to your niece, who's politely declined. Are all kids like this? Or is it just her?

Once they approach the boss, Guzma immediately jumps out of his chair, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Eyyyyyy! (Y/N)!!! Kiddo!! What's up, homeslice?!" He hops down the stairs and crouches so he can get at eye-level with the young girl, offering his fist for a pound-it.

She bumps her fist against his, smiling just a bit. It's more of a reaction than you expected, at least. "S-sup, Uncle Guzma-"

Looks like his slang is rubbing off on her. That's cute.

"Thanks for droppin' by, Doll. No need to worry about Little Miss Troublemaker over here, I got it all under control." He picks up your niece and walks over to you, pressing a looooooooongass smooch on your cheek. The other Team Skull members all make mini comments, like "Ewwww-", "Grosss-", and "Cooties-", causing Plumeria to once again smack their heads together.

You roll your eyes, unable to stop the smirk on your face from growing any further. "Not in front of the kids, Guz." "Ah, right, right- My bad." His shades slide onto his face, hiding the bright red blush that had crept onto his cheeks. "Well, you should probably get goin', ey? The Aether Foundation's one lucky company to have you interviewin' for a position."

"Dork." You boop his nose, then your niece's. "Call me if you need me, okay honey? I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay, Titi (Y/N)-" You smile at the nickname while the others snicker. 'Titi' sounds an awful lot like 'Tittie', and considering three of the 7 people in the room are immature teenagers, there's definitely some laughing going on in the background. Plumeria looks very tired. How does she deal with these kids all the time?

"Alright, I'll be back. Don't light anything on fire, okay?" You yell as you walk off, feeling a slight hint of unease at the idea of leaving your young niece with so many delinquents, even if it's just for a few hours. It'll be fine, though. Guzma's there to keep them from doing anything stupid.

You laugh at the thought. Who am I kidding? He's probably gonna be the one who explodes something first.

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

The interview itself wasn't all that bad. You're fairly certain that you either aced it or put yourself up for consideration, which in itself helped your confidence just a bit. With the absence of Lusamine and the arrest of several of her chairmen, the foundation was very antsy and in need of someone who could handle the Pokemon Observation department. With your background in medicine and PR, you were rationally on the list of potential replacements, and despite your initial resistance, learning that the company would be run by somebody that WASN'T the manipulative little bitch Lusamine gave you enough comfort to accept the offer for the interview. Was it just an offer or an invitation? You weren't quite sure, but Wick was very insistent on you showing up.

Either way, you're pretty certain you got the job. Good on you.

You can't help but wonder how your niece is doing, surrounded by so many troublemakers. As you make your way to the entrance of the Shady House, you can hear loud music, causing you to feel a small tint of anxiety. She'll be fine.

You walk up to the door and creak it open, the smell of burnt… whatever the fuck that is flooding your nostrils. Of course. They lit something on fire.

"Guz??" You call out to the empty room. "Plumes? Anybody home?" As expected, there's no response. You start to feel more and more anxious the more ground you start to cover. Where are they? Peeking your head around the corridor, your anxiety comes to its peak when-

"And that's why you should never do drugs, aight?"

H-Huh?

Your niece sits on Guzma's knee as he bounces it up and down, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face like usual. Awfully burnt cookies sit on the table, explaining the smell from earlier, and Plumeria seems to be asleep with the other team skull grunts. Are they… napping? Seems like it.

She nods enthusiastically, taking a bite of a charred cookie and grimacing shortly after, causing the two to both laugh in unison.

"Doesn't matter if it's just for recreational purposes, you could still get hooked, and that's the last thing we want!" Grinning once again, Guzma pokes her forehead.

Hypocrite. You're reminded of the first time you two had kissed, which happened to be shortly after you both had blazed a couple of joints. It's enough to get you laughing, though.

"Huh?! What're you doing here so early? Don't tell me ya flunked THAT bad!" Guzma's eyes widen, a genuine look of bewilderment painted on his face.

"I did not flunk! I think I did great!" You huff, crossing your arms defiantly. "It's suuuuuuuper comforting that you thought I failed, Guz."

"Nononono I was joking!! Right, kiddo??" Your niece quickly nods. "See???? No harm, no foul!"

Arching a brow, you walk up to the two and pick up the young girl. "Mhmmm. Did you have fun, honey?"

She nods again, unable to contain the grin on her face. "Uncle Guzma told me about his Pokemon training! And I got to ride on Golisopod's back!"

The large bug type pokemon bops up and down upon hearing its name, prompting a smirk from Guzma. "Yeah, I told ya I'd take care of her. She's welcome back anytime, okay?"

"Thanks, Guz." You peck his cheek, and your niece sticks her tongue out, closing her eyes.

"Icky cooties!!" Where the hell did she hear that? The only people you can think of who'd say such a thing are in the other room snoozing, so- Yeah, actually, you know exactly who taught her that word.

"Well, I'm gonna getchu with my cooties! And my tickles!" You raise a hand menacingly, wiggling your fingers with one eye closed. She immediately curls up, not out of fear, but out of excitement. It's nice to see her so happy again.

After a very long tickle session, you quickly glance at the large grandfather clock, noting the short hand of the clock slowly approaching the number 8. Shit. "We gotta go, kiddo. Your dad isn't gonna be all that happy if we get home any later than 8:30. Besides, it's past your bedtime."

"I bet Uncle Guzma stays up past his bedtime-" She yawns. "Can we stay for a little longer?"

How can I say no to that face? You find yourself incredibly conflicted. Do you tell her you have to leave anyways? Or do you stay and risk getting in trouble by your brother-in-law?

"Eh, as much as I'd love to have you over for longer, kiddo- Look at your Titi (Y/N). They look exhausted."

You smile gratefully at the comment, glad that it doesn't have to be you to tell your niece to go home. "Yeah, I'm beat. We can hang out some other time, okay? I promise." You pat her head and get ready to leave.

"Aww… okay. Bye, Uncle Guzma!! Bye Golisopod!" She holds your hand, and the two of you eventually walk your way back to the car. As you drive away, one thing lingers in your head. You can't think of anything else, in all honesty.

Guzma's great with kids. I should've expected as much, but… I'm glad he gets along with my family.

Your stomach rumbles at the intersection. I'd kill for some malasadas right about now-

Okay, maybe you CAN think of something else.

#Skull Boss Guzma #team skull guzma #guzma #guzma x reader #pokemon guzma #team skull #pokemon #pokemon x reader #My writing #i return #hyperfixation #simp hours

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Bay/rise 38!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sententiously-sarcastic @sprinklestheditty

Content warnings!! Trauma and a scene that may resemble suicidal signs (please lmk if you can think of a better phrasing)

Leonardo and Hueso sat lotus style facing each other, Leonardo’s sword laid out in front of them. The rest of the mutants and April were forced behind a line of tape, told they could watch as long as they were quiet. Mikey and Raphael, it seemed, had trouble remembering that they couldn’t cross the line and would have to be gently reminded by Raph and Michalengalo to move back. They’d be so drawn into the ceremony like fish to a lure that they’d outright forget that they had crossed the line. Raphael, after the long nap gifted to him, was looking much brighter and calmer than the state Leonardo had left him in, and Leonardo had trouble focusing on Hueso without his eyes wandering back over to check on his brother. Hueso would snap his fingers each time Leonardo strayed and give a simple, “Eyes on me.”

The two of them sat in a silence for a long time, their hands joined. Hueso said it was only supposed to be a ten minute reflection to draw the memories forth from the sword, but for the first few times, Leonardo would have made some noise, no matter how small, and the progress of the ceremony would be lost. Finally, with great mental strain and biting his tongue to keep it from wanting to talk, finally they made it the full ten minutes. It was a delayed reaction, just enough for each of the brothers to consider that maybe they did something wrong. Then it happened all at once.

The lines traced along the blade of the odachi lit up in the brightest cerulean blue, spiraling in on itself until it illuminated a sixteen-petaled lotus with a downward-facing triangle in its middle surrounding a circle. Hueso opened his eyes finally, and Leonardo couldn’t hide the gasp as he witnessed the newfound beauty of the calaca. The usually blank canvas of his bones were decorated in bright rainbows of designs that seemed somehow dull in the presence of the glowing odachi. His normally white eyes shone a deep, powerful blue and his teeth each took on a different color.

“Hueso— your bones!” Leonardo remembered he wasn’t supposed to talk the minute the words left his mouth and he flinched with the expectation that all their progress would be erased, but it was not.

Hueso laughed at Leonardo. “My bones? You should take a look at yourself!”

Leonardo gave a confused hum and looked back at his companions, who all stared at him with wide expressions of awe and in various stages of cheers and silent words Leonardo couldn’t hear. “Why can’t I…?”

“It’s normal, don’t worry.” Hueso said, “We are truly alone. Check your reflection in the glint of your odachi if you care to.”

Leonardo leaned forward to look at the glowing odachi closer and, beyond the blue light, his reflection was as clear as if it were a mirror. Every mark and flaw on Leonardo’s face was lit up brightly, his stripes the brighter shades of the normal color, except glowing, while the rest of the imperfections matched the color of the odachi. Every scar and fault and blemish that covered his face and body was highlighted bright and beautiful.

“Wow…” Leonardo whistled, “I look hot!”

“You are Kintsugi.” Hueso said with a laugh, “And your chakra, of course, Vishuddha.”

“The throat chakra…” Leonardo touched his neck and felt the heat of the burning chakra within. “Wow. I’m literally hot!”

“You have no shame do you?”

“None at all.” Leonardo stuck out his tongue.

Hueso sighed and shook his head. “The sword holds the memories of all the places it has been.  Each rift is opens leaves a mark in the very metal…”

The reflection in the sword started to shift and change to show the most recent uses. Leonardo using the portal to defeat Leo in the spar. Leonardo using the portal to reach his father. Leonardo portaling away from Krang’s technodrone...

“There.” The memories stopped shifting at Hueso’s word, “When you’re more experienced, you will be able to draw forth these memories on your own. But for now, you did amazing.” Hueso let go of Leonardo’s hands to stand up. “Take your odachi and create your rift.”

Leonardo grabbed his odachi and stood up, every part of his body feeling numb and overwhelmed at the same time, and he traced the odachi through the air. It ripped through the fabric of reality almost audibly, the portal brighter and stronger than Leonardo had ever made or seen. The force of its draw was intense and unrelenting that Leonardo would have been pulled off his feet if it wasn’t for Hueso grabbing him by the bridge of his carapace to hold him still.

“We do not want to cross through there.” Hueso spoke just loud enough to be heard over the whistling of the rift, “You must move the rift to a safe entry point.”

Leonardo back to the rift and saw its placement, high in the center of the technodrone with hundreds of feet of open air below. He took a shaky breath as he moved just close enough to take a better look inside.

“T… there?” He pointed at a ledge farther down the wall of the technodrone.

“You tell me.” Hueso said calmly.

“Y… yes.” Leonardo decided, almost confident. “Yes, that would work.”

“Then let us retrieve your brothers.”

****

Everything was going just as planned. Krang was rubbing his ring with that devilish grin spit across his pink face, a tentacle occasionally rubbing the ring just to feel the rush of its power once more. The Shadow Fiend did just as Krang ordered, down to the smallest request. When Krang said to walk, The Shadow Fiend walked. When Krang said to sit, the Shadow Fiend sat. When Krang said to jump or growl or roar or beg, The Shadow Fiend listened. Krang liked that. He could only imagine what this creature would be like at its full power, and he could hardly wait to use it to its full potential.

“How much longer?” Krang looked away from his ring just long enough to address Draxum.

Draxum was humming softly as he did his work, as slow as he could manage without drawing attention from Krang. He had to give that skeleton enough time to find the brothers and bring them here, and he was running out of ways to stall. “The ceremony has to be perfect, Great Oni. I must make sure there is no fault in my lines.”

“Very well then.” Krang huffed, “Just hurry up then! I want my new prize sooner rather than later.”

“You will have your prize.” Draxum promised, “You just must be patient.”

“Patience isn’t a virtue of us ‘oni’ in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh trust me, I have.” Draxum muttered under his breath, too low for Krang to hear. Krang was too busy looking at his ring again to care anyway. Finally, Draxum brought Yoshi to the middle of the ceremony, the rat blind folded with his arms and legs tied as Draxum could manage without snapping the limbs. Mutants were all so delicate compared to yokai, especially their fleshy bits.

“You are a cruel creature, Baron Draxum!” Yoshi spat, trying to snap at Draxum’s hand while the yokai handled and positioned him like a doll. “Gaining the trust of me and my sons, pretending you’ve changed— betraying my dear Orange!”

“You should talk less.” Draxum warned.

Yoshi didn't stop. “And now you bring these innocent other worldly creatures into your lust for power?! What— you want to steal their mutagen too? Haven’t you done enough damage to the people of New York?!”

Draxum laughed and planted his hoof firmly on Yoshi’s back, pressing the mutant slowly and firmly into the ground and twisting him almost playfully. “You are not people, Yoshi. You. Are. A. RAT!”

He slammed his hoof down hard and Yoshi cried out as the sharp hoof pierced the fur and flesh.

“Leave him alone!” Splinter cried out from where he was still being held captive by Draxum’s vines.

Draxum rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the talkative mutant. “Why is he still alive again?”

“I want him to watch as I destroy his sons.” Krang laughed, “Or, more as my new pet here does. It’ll make him all the more entertaining after I freeze him.”

Cassandra didn't know how to feel. She trusted her master more than anything, and her master seemed to trust this ‘oni’ so she had to trust him too. But at the same time… this Splinter had been so kind to her. Sat down with her during her girl scouts phase… talked with her… advised her. He was so nice, and to see him being abused by her master jut felt wrong. But then she shook her head to dismiss such treasonous thoughts as they tried to invade. She was Cassandra freaking Jones! Loyal to the Foot Clan and to her masters to the very end! And when she could get her hands on the orb and free her family and clan, she would do just that and everything would be well again— just as long as they got those turtles out of the way!

****

The portal took them through just as planned. Their feet carried them swift and quiet, even the large box turtles able to walk as silent as a panther stalking through the night. The bigger brothers were the first through, followed by the mix-matched set, and lastly April, which made the bay brother’s eyes widen in apprehension .

“Should she be here?” Raph asked, his voice as low as one could hope it to be. “This ain’t exactly safe!”

Donnie’s eyes seemed to bug out of their sockets in his panic that quickly turned to confusion. “Wait— her o2 stats are still stable… how is she breathing right now?”

“She won’t be if she goes down there.” Raph growled, “This ain’t amateur hour.”

“AMATEUR?!”

Michelangelo practically tackled April, pressing his finger to her lips to shush her. Leonardo watched the scene with a strange expression on his face. Raphael and Donatello were quick to notice, both of them exchanging looks to make sure the other was seeing what they were. The expression wasn’t quite sad nor happy nor upset nor mad. It was just… calm. Calm and so unnerving on the usually animated face of their little brother.

“April, maybe you should stay behind.” Leonardo’s voice was even and quiet.

“What? But Leo—“ April stopped talking the minute she saw the look on Leonardo’s face. Tired and scared and calm all stitched into his face in such a subtle manner that to anyone other than family it would be inperceptible. Something was wrong, and Leonardo’s voice sounded so serious that April quickly forsaked her previous outrage for a gentle, “Yeah… right. Whatever you say Leo…”

She went back through the rift and left them. Leonardo turned his attention then to Raphael.

“Are you sure you’re okay to fight?”

“Y-yeah! Feeling better already.” Raphael tried to smile, but it was hard. “Are you alright Leo?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Leonardo sounded more like Donatello than like himself as he hovered over the edge of the ledge and looked down at the long drop beneath, vertigo spiraling in his mind though he hardly cared. “On your call, bud.”

“Leo…?” Michelangelo finally caught onto what was happening, sticking out his bottom lip as he eyed Leonardo with red eyes that burned like the sun. “Are you okay?”

Leonardo gave a weak laugh and smiled, his eyes looking to Michelangelo, and the box turtle could see tears trying to escape them. “Don’t you worry, Hermano. You’ll be just fine. I love you all so much.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye…?”

Leonardo didn't answer.

#Leo???#bro you good??#what could be happening??

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stonecoldhedwig · 3 years

Note

i like this prompt suits you. but lmk if you don’t like it and i’ll try to find a better one

“I’m allergic to flowers but I work in a flower shop – you’re a customer who’s very confused as to why I’d do that

Thanks pal for the prompt! This was adorable.

Here we are:

“Alrighty, so that’s a dozen white roses, the eucalyptus sprigs, and what else—oh! The gyp.” James looked up from his calculator and smiled at the middle-aged woman standing on the other side of the counter. “That’ll be twenty-eight fifty.”

The woman returned his smile, and held out a couple of notes. James reached out a hand to take them and—

Sneezed.

The woman recoiled, naturally repulsed. James immediately began to apologise profusely, only for Sirius to swiftly elbow him out the way.

“Twenty quid, the eucalyptus is on us,” Sirius said smoothly, dealing with the transaction. The customer smiled, all but snatching the bouquet of flowers out of Sirius’ hands in exchange for a twenty-pound-note, before practically fleeing from the shop.

“Thank you!” James called after her weakly.

Sirius looked at him, incredulous. “Prongs, what the fuck? You’re still sneezing? I thought you went to get a prescription for those super strong antihistamines!” “Yeah, but they give me the weirdest dreams. I had this awful one yesterday about how my uni professor Slughorn and I had to complete some kind of quest, but he kept turning into a lilac satin armchair. I can’t cope.”

“Pathetic,” snorted Sirius, but his tone was goodnatured. He turned and began to head into the back of the shop. “For that, you can clean the shears while Remus and I go fool around in the office…”

James threw a scrunched-up paper towel at Sirius’ retreating back and sighed, wiping his hands on his green apron. In Sirius’ defence, it really was utterly ridiculous—he was working in a florist, and he had hayfever that seemed to get worse every year. James, Remus and Sirius had been working in James’ mother’s flower shop every summer since they started university. They had a good time, the pay was decent, and every penny that they earned went into savings so that they could go on what they called their Grand Adventure after graduation. The allergies hadn’t been that bad at the start, but every year seemed to make them worse and worse.

James turned, about to fill the corner sink with water so that he could clean all the shears when he heard the bell ring to signal the shop door opening. He turned and stopped.

Standing in the shop was a girl. That much was obvious, of course, because James’ wasn’t actually so terrible with girls as his friends liked to think, and was actually capable of spotting one in the wild. This, though—this had to me more than a girl. She had a shock of red hair, pinned loosely back from her face, and James was sure he could call it cinnamon and russet and auburn and strawberry all at once. She was mesmerising.

“Hey,” the girl said, and James felt his mouth moving, but no sound came out. Even her voice sounded good.

The girl looked awkwardly at James, her smile slipping into more of a grimace. “Um, I’m looking for some flowers for my best friend. It’s her birthday.”

James found his voice, finally, although the words came out squeaky and strained. “Right!” He gestured towards the floral display. “What sort of thing were you looking for?”

“Something simple, I think.”

The two of them moved towards the display and James began to chatter. “I like the stocks—they’re simple, and they smell lovely. Although, we’re all out of the blue and I do personally find the pink a little garish. There are those alliums at the back—see those big purple coloured ones? They’re very nice; related to garlic and chives, although you wouldn’t guess.”

James chattered on, asking for more information and pointing out the different flowers he thought were appropriate. He might have hayfever, but he was also the son of a florist and a botanist, and James knew his stuff when it came to flowers. They discussed the merits of roses—too romantic, too cliche—versus hyacinths; and James tried desperately not to sneeze. He thought that his streaming eyes must look like he was getting emotional over the flowers, and cursed himself.

The girl smiled, listening politely. When James paused for breath, she gestured to a group of flowers that James had suggested. “Oh, the peonies are beautiful.”

“Yeah, they’re—they’re—“ James turned away and let out the most almighty sneeze. His eyes were streaming as he looked back at the girl and smiled apologetically. “God, I’m really sorry, I have terrible hay fever and it’s just playing up today.” “Oh!” The girl’s eyes lit up. “I’m a medical student and I’m writing my dissertation on the management of allergies. You’d be an incredible case study!”

James grinned at her with a bemused look. “I’ve never heard anyone tell me I’d be an incredible case study before. I must write that down and let my ex-girlfriends know…” The girl let out a laugh—a full-bodied, genuine laugh that made something delicious and delighted bubble in James’ chest. “I do have a question, though,” she said. “Why the hell are you working in a florist if you’ve got such bad hayfever?”

James chuckled, looking down at his feet. “Yeah, it’s insane, I know. This is my mum’s shop—me and two of my friends work here during the uni breaks to earn some money for our big adventure after graduation. We want to go on tour with our band.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” The girl looked genuinely interested. She nodded towards the logo on James’ apron that read Euphemia’s. “So you’re Euphemia’s son?” “James Potter, at your service.”

“Well, James Potter, I’m going to go for the peonies, I think.” The girl nodded towards the pink blooms that James had suggested. “They seem perfect.”

“Great!”

James busied himself with arranging the bouquet, taking longer than he usually would, and certainly taking more care. His mouth felt dry and he was furiously wracking his brains to try and think of things to say that would make the girl pause, stay a little while and talk with him. He already loved the sound of her voice; the light cadence of her words, the short snaps of her vowels. James could have listened to her talk all day.

Alas, nothing came to him, and after a couple more sneezes and an exchange of cash, James reluctantly handed over the bouquet.

“Thanks. Here—“ The girl reached out and snatched up the notepad and pen that were sticking out of James’ apron pocket. She scribbled something down and handed the paper back to James. “If you’re interested in being in part of my dissertation, you should text me. Thanks again for the help with the flowers—I think Marlene is going to love them.”

She turned to leave, and James glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand. Lily Evans, it said, with a heart over the I and a number below. It’s now or never. He looked back up again, his face breaking into an earnest grin and butterflies fluttering in the low part of his stomach. Some small bloom of courage flowered within him, and he decided to act.

“Hey,” called James, and Lily’s hand stilled on the door handle. She turned back, the sunlight catching the copper and auburn in her hair, illuminating the smattering of freckles across her nose and those green eyes that glittered like cut gems.

“Yeah?” she asked, and James could have sworn that there was something hopeful in her tone.

“You know this case study?” He waved the piece of paper. “Do you think it could happen over drinks?”

“Oh,” Lily breathed, and beamed. “Yeah, I think it could.”

#jily #prompts #prongsdamnyou #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #euphemia potter #harry potter #hp fanfic #fanfiction #hp #muggle au #flower shop au #florist au #allergies?

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dokidokibook · 3 years

Text

Dabi simps, come get y’all juice pt 1

Warnings: female reader, cursing, smutty themes, fear, gagging, mentions of knives/blades, threatening language, violence.

Summary: You're infiltrating the LOV's hideout, much to the chagrin of your principal.

You stroll down the hallway of the LOV's hideout, determined to finally get some insider information for UA's headmaster, Principal Nezu. Not that he fully trusts the idea of you, a pro-hero in training, to visit some of the most wanted criminals in all of Japan, but eventually you convinced him to let you do this job. It's your quirk, after all. It allows you to convince even the most stubborn of minds to do as you command.

Now you tremble with fear, trying to make your footsteps as soft as possible. You don't want to be unexpectedly ambushed. Turning the corner, you hide behind a big slab of concrete, catching sight of the group having what looked to be a family meeting. You hitch your gasp in your throat.

Dabi, the big one with purple scars and piercings leans back in his chair and stares at the leader with a bored look in his eyes. Next to him, a gesticulating masked villain they refer to as Twice keeps bouncing around in his seat excitedly. The blonde girl, Toga, was nowhere to be seen. You can't focus on her absence, you need to hear what it is they're saying.

"There are openings all around the building," Shigaraki, the leader says. "No doubt guarded by one of the many Pro Heroes helping Nezu. If they leave one alone for a bit, I'm sure we can sneak in and..."

"You're very pretty." The cold metal is pressed against the base of your throat. You freeze, knowing just how much trouble you're in. "I wonder what it would be like to wear YOUR skin. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

It's Toga, and suddenly her absence made sense; she must have found out you'd be arriving. Before you can whimper, "Please", a deep voice startles both you and Toga.

"Now, Toga, is that any way to treat our guest?" In front of you is Dabi, and behind him, a disgruntled Shigaraki. Dabi leans down to your height. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Your eyes shift from the blade on your neck to Dabi, and the exit behind Twice. Mr. Compress, of whom you hadn't taken notice of before, watched you with anticipation.

"I don't think you want to try running away. Now, I'm only gonna ask you one more time, little girl," he sneers. "What's your name?"

"Y/n L/n. Please, let me go! I didn't mean to--"

"You didn't mean to get caught," Shigaraki finishes for you. "What a pathetic excuse for a spy you are. Dabi, Toga, dispose of this useless bastard for me. We have other business to attend to," he says with a wave of his hand.

A tear forms in your eye. You struggle in Toga's tight hug. They can't kill you, can they?

"Ohhhh," Toga moans. "I can't wait to cut into this pretty flesh. Such a nice color this time of year, don't you think?"

Dabi doesn't look away from you. "Toga, let go of her. I'll handle this."

She looks up, distraught. "Huh? But, Dabi," she whines. "Shiggy said this was a toy for both of us... let me have a little fun."

Dabi shoots Toga a warning glance, and she sighs.

"Fine," she says. "Bye, bye, pretty girl." Then she skips away.

You stare up at him now, fear visible in your eyes. "Are you gonna let me go, too?"

A sly grin spreads across his face. "How fucking stupid are you? Sneaking into our hideout, and you think you're gonna escape unscathed? Give me a break. You spoiled brats don't know what you're doing.

"In any case, now's my time to play with you."

You freeze up again. You want more than anything to turn and run, but your feet are planted to the floor like slabs of pavement.

"You are a toy, aren't you?" He starts to close in on you. "And I bet you're such a good girl." His body presses yours to the wall behind you. He slams one hand next to your head and cradles your bottom lip between his thumb and index finger.

"Please," you whimper. "Don't... please, just let me go-- I won't tell Principal Nezu anything!"

"Oh, I know you won't," Dabi says, leaning down to bore his gleaming blue eyes into yours. "You won't tell anyone outside of these walls anything, ever again.

"I know all about your little quirk," he pulls a bandana out of his pocket and slides it around your head and your mouth. "Can't fool me like that, dollface. It's almost insulting, y'know?"

A/N: Do y'all want a part two?? Lmk.

#dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi fanfic #mha #bnha #dabi x you #mha dabi #toya todoroki #toya x reader

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sokkas-honour · 3 years

Note

55 & sokka 🤝

only the good die young - sokka x reader

pairing: sokka x fem!reader

wc: 1.5k

note: i didn’t use the majority of the lyrics for this one so i didn’t include them but it follows the majority of the song’s theme. it’s a bit rushed and honestly not my favourite thing ever but it’ll do :)

warning: i mention a dagger (just existing), mention of a dead family member (no details), that’s all i believe but lmk if there is anything!!

atla taglist: @missmorosis @draqondance @biqherosix

when the avatar and two watertribe members showed up in your temporary home in the northern air temple, it was safe to say that you were surprised.

when your town was destroyed by the fire nation, you joined your cousin teo and his father as they moved into the abandonned air temple and settled in. the last couple of months had been spent in a feeling of totallt security and fun as you would fly around the ancient building with your homemade gliders.

you yourself loved the idea of inventing but they were never actually good or useful, but it was still something that you greatly enjoyed. so when you got to greet the three newcomers, sokka, the non bender, was the first one to spike your interest.

whereas the avatar found the changes to the sacred place to be horrible, the watertribe boy found them fascinating and you approached him.

“hey! i’m y/n, would you like a tour of the place?” you asked as he admired one of the machines, hoping you didn’t disturb him too much.

“of course! i’m sokka.” he turned around, a welcoming smile on his face making you blush slightly.

“great, follow me.” you indicated the direction you were going to with a nod of your head and you both started walking together.

“so, how long have you been here for?” he inquired as you brought him down a hall to the sleeping hall.

“not sure, i’ve lost track if i’m honest.” you turned your head a bit to smile as you shrugged your shoulders, unable to give him a straight answer.

you pushed one of the big doors open and let sokka go in first before following him, letting the large door shut rather loudly.

“this is where we sleep.” extending you hand to show all the sleeping bags. it wasn’t the beds you used all sleep in back in your village but it was a place to rest and the paintings on the wall were magnificent.

“cosy?” he commented, unsure of what to say and it earned a laugh from you. his ears perked up and he felt heat rise to his cheeks, he thought you were pretty when he saw you from afar but from up close, you were breathtakingly gorgeous with a beautiful laugh.

“yeah, you could say that. i can’t imagine your sleeping quarters are as nice while you travel with the avatar are they?” you inquired when you finally calmed down. making your way to the other side of the room to go down to another hallway.

“sleeping bags on hard earth isn’t always pleasant but we make do with what we have.” he answered as he kept up with you.

“i could imagine. what’s it like travelling with the avatar?” you spun around rather quickly, excitement in your words at the idea of getting to travel the world.

“it’s really fun, i mean not the getting chased by the firenation part but other then that, it’s neat.” his purposefully said that part in order to get a giggle from you and he did, making his heart warm.

“it’s neat?” you made fun of his choice of words before turning around to continue guiding him down a hall.

“uh yeah, it’s neat. apart from the whole your sister being a waterbender and your friend being the actual avatar. it definitely sucks to be the only non bender sometimes.” he sighed, deciding that he might as well dump his problem onto someone he’ll probably never see again even if he hoped that’s not the case.

“i get that, the things that teo’s father has built makes you forget that there’s some sort of uneven playing field between us and benders, even if we don’t have any earth enders among us.” you explained. your uncle had provided all the refugees with so many opportunities like his own form gliding like airbenders, a compressed air elevator to travel between the many floors among other things.

“but i’d love to travel the world. getting to explore this air temple has been fun but it awakened some sort of lust for discovering the world in me but i’m stuck here.” you continued. you figured that you had both somehow created a safe space to express your problems within minutes of knowing each other.

“you could come with us! i’m sure aang and katara wouldn’t mind and i’d love to have another nonbender.” he suggested, getting excited from the idea he came up with and voiced.

“but i’m kinda useless, i’m not that skilled of a fighter, i have no idea how to even use this dagger.” you explained, unsheathing your late fathers pearl-handled dagger.

“woah, where did you get that.” sokka leaned in to get a better look at the beautiful and priceless weapon before you put in back into its sheath and repositioned it on your waist. he hadn’t noticed it when he first saw you.

“it belonged to my father. he gave it to me before he died in the siege of ba sing se. i don’t really remember him.” you admitted, avoiding his gaze as you explained the history of the dagger.

“oh y/n, i’m so sorry. i lost my mother to the fire nation too.” the watertribe boy placed his arms on your shoulders and you redirected his gaze to his and smiled in thanks.

“it’s fine, im sorry for your mother. but i’d love to know how to use it, no one here knows how to.” you sighed, abrudptly turning around to return to your tour, leaving sokka to think about how to convince you to get you to come with them to the north pole.

after the whole fiasco with the firenation and discovering that your uncle was in fact working with them, though not out of pleasure, you felt almost overwhelmed with everything. it didn’t help when before leaving, sokka approached you.

“hey so um, y/n.” he tapped on your shoulder as you stared at the clouds, pulling you out of your thoughts and reflecting on the days events.

“yeah sokka?” you didn’t bother turning around and waited for what he had to say.

“i talked with aang and katara, they’re both more than happy to have you accompany us to the north pole. if you want to of course!” he stammered the last part, not wanting to pressure you into anything.

“i don’t know sokka. i’ve never been away from my family. and i don’t think it’s what my parents would have wanted.” you hesitated. you kept your gaze on the clouds as you pondered the idea. you desperately wanted to leave and explore the world but at what cost? leaving everything youve ever known behind you. your dad wanted you to stay with your uncle and help protect your cousin, even if you weren’t skilled.

“come on y/n, only the good die young.” he insisted.

“huh?” this time you turned to face the blue eyed boy, confusion written all over your face.

“what i mean is, don’t you think your parents would want you to travel with the avatar and save the world? if you keep holding yourself back, you’ll live a miserable life in the end.” he explained.

“you don’t know what my parents would want, my dad said he wanted to be protect my cousin, even if i know absolutely no combat skills. and my life isn’t miserable! i love my life here!” you lashed out, annoyed at the idea that sokka would know what was good for you. you really did want to leave but out of spite to what he said, you suddenly didn’t want to.

“listen y/n, i shouldn’t have said that but i spoke about it with teo and your uncle, and they both said that they thought you’d flourish and thrive if you got out of the air temple and explored.” sokka apologised but kept pressing his point and this time, he convinced you.

“all right, let me pack my bags and say goodbye then i’ll find you?” he smiled, happy he was able to convince you. he’d be able to spend more time with you, get to know you, and be able to teach you how to use your dagger properly. he might even get to kiss you if the connection between the two of you grew.

“sounds perfect.”

“see you in a minute sokka.” you kissed his cheek and ran to say your goodbyes to everyone, your family and your friends and to grab your bag. leaving the watertribe boy with a dumb and in love grin with a slight red shade covering his cheeks.

#sokka x reader #atla x reader #gaang x reader #zuko x reader #aang x reader #katara x reader #atla teo #atla sokka #atla sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka imagine #atla sokka imagine #northern air temple #song fic #sokka #sokka of the southern water tribe

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malewifegradyruewen · 3 years

Text

Ceux Qui Ne Meurent Jamais, Chapter Two

i swear i didn’t mean for this to get so long so fast-

previous | next | masterpost

trigger warnings: religion mention but it’s not explicit and also it’s a religion i made up so it’s complicated but read at your own risk, ask to tag

word count: 1814

tagging: @fire-sapphics @zoyyanazyalensky @dirty-racoon @della-vacker-supremacy @raiinyrxse @lucat13 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @genyyasafin @cadence-talle @thewhiteblades @gay-otlc @brilliantblindinglights @enbies-and-felonies @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @littlemisscupcake lmk if you want to be added/removed!!

The sky outside was dark when Nathalie opened her eyes, and it took her a moment to remember where she was. She wasn’t in the small dormitory of the children’s manor, but sprawled out on the cushioned expanse of her new bed in Marchant Manor. She looked to the clock across the room next to the door. Seven-twelve.

Supper. She had just over fifteen minutes to change and fix what she knew was a rat’s nest in her hair. Nathalie leaped out of bed, tore open her bags, and grabbed a midnight blue skirt, along with an off-white blouse. She threw them on as quickly as possible and slid on the grey shoes she’d kicked off before climbing into bed. She checked the clock again. Seven-twenty. Grabbing her brush, she ran to the vanity and started pulling her hair back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. No time for makeup, not that she had much to begin with.

The clock read seven-twenty-seven as she ran out the door and down the grand staircase. Lady Lucie had told her where the kitchen was, but not the dining room, and Nathalie had no idea where it was. At the children’s manor the dining hall had been connected to the kitchen with a swinging door. Maybe it was the same at Marchant. She ran down the hall towards the kitchen, and burst through the first doorway she came across.

Unfortunately, the room she burst into wasn’t the kitchen. Fortunately, her search was over. She’d found the dining room with- according to the clock on the opposite wall -not a moment to spare. The room was empty, but the chandelier had been lit and there were three place settings on one end of the long, ornately carved table. Lady Lucie was nowhere in sight, but neither was the third lady of the house. She wasn’t sure what else to do, so she walked to the table and took a seat.

The room was large and drafty, and eerily quiet. Nathalie noticed the whole house was like that, for the most part. Lady Lucie had said that they had been alone, just the two of them, for eight years. It was no surprise that the manor was as dilapidated as it was, but it still, to be alone in the dining room was terribly frightening, and Nathalie hoped it wouldn’t be that way for long.

Just then, a small door near a corner of the room swung open and Lady Lucie bustled in, carrying two platters and a bowl. “Ah, there you are! I was wondering where you went off to. I checked your room not long ago but I didn’t see you there.”

Nathalie looked at her, baffled. “How long ago did you check?”

“Oh, maybe an hour or so? How come?”

“I was...taking a nap. I was in my room the whole time.”

“Oh,” Lady Lucie said. “I must have missed you.”

“Yeah,” Nathalie agreed, although she was skeptical.

“Have you seen the other lady of the house yet? She’s late,” Lady Lucie asked as she placed the platters down in front of Nathalie.

“No, I haven’t,” she admitted.

Just then, the door to the hallway flew open, and there stood a slender lady with a tight bun and a floor-length black skirt. She didn’t look up from the book she was reading, the title of which Nathalie couldn’t make out. Even though she wasn’t watching where she walked, she moved with speed and grace, as though she’d done this a million times.

“I’ll take my supper in the library, Lady Lucie,” she said, flipping the page with her bony fingers.

“Lady Brigid, we have a new lady in the house. For one supper, you can put the book down and engage in conversation.” Lady Lucie walked towards her and grabbed the book. Lady Brigid cried out and reached to grab it, but Lady Lucie had already tucked it away into the folds of her own skirt. “Come, sit. Set a good example for Lady Nathalie.”

Lady Brigid scowled and sat down, her long skirt sweeping the floor as she did. She glared at Lady Lucie, but she seemed not to notice, serving Nathalie a helping of potatoes and a serving of mushrooms.

“So who is this?” Lady Brigid asked, turning her attention to Nathalie.

“I’m Nath- Lady Nathalie,” she said, remembering what Lady Lucie had told her. The title was still strange, and she was still getting used to it.

“Where did you come from?” Lady Brigid stared at her, as though trying to bore holes through Nathalie’s skull.

“Hazelford Children’s Manor in Toulliers, ma’am. First cycle.”

“So I see they’re sending just anyone here now, are they?” Lady Brigid remarked, as though Nathalie were the scum of the Earth.

“Lady Brigid, that’s quite enough,” Lady Lucie interrupted. “This is not a time for argument. I’m sure Hazelford does a fine job of educating the young ladies in their care, and Lady Nathalie is as good as any of the ladies.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Lady Brigid said, still staring at Nathalie.

A moment of uncomfortable silence followed, broken by Lady Lucie declaring, “Well, we mustn’t let our food get cold. Eat, eat!”

Nathalie folded her hands to pray, but Lady Lucie and Lady Brigid had both started cutting into the duck meat on their plates. “Do we not pray?”

The other ladies stopped and looked at Nathalie. “I suppose we do,” Lady Lucie said slowly, putting down her fork and knife. Lady Brigid followed suit and they folded their hands and bowed their heads.

“Oh Lady of All Ladies, protect the ladies of the order and bless us this day, as you have and will forever, amen.” It was a short prayer that Nathalie knew by heart, having said it before each meal for as long as she could remember. After saying this, she placed her napkin in her lap and started cutting her meat, just as Lady Sylviane had taught her.

“A lady must act like a proper lady, otherwise her title is for naught,” Lady Sylviane had been fond of saying whenever she saw a girl whose posture was not perfect or took too large of a bite. Nathalie could still hear her reprimands, even at a meal she wasn’t present at.

She glanced over at her fellow ladies. Had Lady Sylviane been there, she would have been appalled. Lady Lucie was eating potatoes with her fingers, and Lady Brigid had somehow acquired a new book that she had placed next to her plate and she was poring over as she took a bite of her duck. She gaped at them for nearly a minute before they realised she was staring.

“Have you no shame?” Nathalie asked. “Have you no shame at all?”

They stared back at her for a moment before Lady Lucie said sheepishly, “It’s been a while since anyone else dined with us. We usually take supper independently, in the library.”

“If we don’t use cutlery, we don’t have to wash it,” Lady Brigid added. “It’s just us taking care of the whole manor. That’s why we closed so much of the house off, so we haven’t got to clean it. We try to make as little mess as possible, so we can dedicate more time to study.”

Nathalie stared at them. “Did you not receive proper education in the children’s manor?”

“We did, we just have a mutual, unspoken agreement that that’s too much trouble.” Lady Lucie looked at Nathalie as though she were stupid. “We can use proper manners, but it’s so rare we have visitors that we decided not to bother.”

With that, the pair of them went back to their meals, their manner the same as before. Nathalie stared a moment more, baffled at their logic. She supposed it made sense to close off parts of the house, as there was simply too much of it for the few people residing in Marchant Manor, but she’d assumed that all of the ladies would use proper table manners. Some small part of her had always hated Lady Sylviane’s rules, but she’d been too scared to try and defy her. But seeing as the ladies here didn’t mind…

She tentatively put down her fork and gingerly picked up a baby potato. Had she been using cutlery, she would have cut it in two, but it wasn’t too large as to not fit in her mouth. Before she could change her mind, she placed the whole thing in her mouth and started chewing it. She couldn’t entirely close her mouth, but it didn’t matter. The potato itself was nothing special, but the action was what made it truly special. It was silly, really, that something so small could bring her such joy, but it did. She ate her whole meal in that fashion, finally sitting back and licking her fingers.

“It’s nice, not to have to think about the rules, isn’t it?” Lady Lucie asked, watching Nathalie finish up. She nodded, and Lady Lucie smiled. “Would you like to see the rest of the house tonight?”

“Oh, no thank you,” she said. “I’m full, and I’d like to go to bed.”

“I figured as much. Lady Brigid, you’ll be returning to the library, I assume?”

“Yes, thank you for supper,” Lady Brigid stood up, not looking up from her book as she exited the dining room.

“Mysterious, isn’t she?” Lady Lucie remarked as she began to clear the dishes. “She’s nice enough, but she’s strange. Still don’t know much about her, and I’ve been here eleven years.”

“Really?” Nathalie asked, stacking up the supper plates. “How odd.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure what else to do with her,” Lady Lucie said. “Perhaps we can discover things together. But it can wait until tomorrow. You should get some rest.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning up supper?” Nathalie asked.

“Oh, I’m fine. I clean up by myself all the time,” she said, taking the plates from Nathalie. “Truly, I can handle it. Go to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning. Breakfast is usually around nine, but I’ll make yours whenever you wake. Sleep well.”

With that dismissal, Nathalie felt she had no choice but to climb back up the grand staircase to her bedroom, where she shut the door behind her. Supper had been interesting, in more ways than one, but she was too exhausted to think about it. Instead, she removed the bun from her hair, replacing it with a long plait, and slipping into her nightdress before climbing into bed, under the heavy sheets. Tomorrow would be a day of education, in more ways than one, but right now, it was time to rest. Nathalie had no barely drawn the covers up to her chin before she was fast asleep.

#ceux qui ne meurent jamais #cqnmj #jolie’s shitty writing

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whumperfly-chaser · 3 years

Text

Maurice- Ch 2 | A realization

Don't you just hate it when you find out your tenant has been secretly using his home to host and torture someone for his own sick pleasure? Simply the worst way to start an afternoon.

T/W's here: (Emeto, dirty home, rotting foods and other bits, abandoned setting, infestation) (Lmk what else to tag!)

It would’ve been a pleasant afternoon, drizzling slightly on clean sidewalks and an overgrown lawn, children in raincoats playing in the neighboring yards, and birds singing happily under the shower. It would’ve been a pleasant afternoon, but not for Denice or Martin. No… Not for them in the slightest. Denice tightens her grip around the umbrella handle as she listens faintly to Martin’s complaints.

Prev- Next

“I’m telling you Denice, you’ve got to stop thinking that Roger was up to this shit. Sure, he was a little off sometimes, but he paid the rent just fine.”

“And I’m telling you that I heard something in here. I could’ve sworn I heard a scream when I was walking by. That’s no dog, Martin. It sounded human and scared and I-“

“And you what, Denice?” Denice looked at him with a sort of restlessness, every once in a while she gazed at the innocuous exterior. This house used to be hers. It used to feel nice to walk by and it used to feel safe. But now… all it gives her is a sense of dread.

“Are you really going to break into a tenant’s home just to investigate a random shout you heard? That could literally be anything!”

She crosses her arms. “I know what I heard, Mart. And it’s not his home anymore; he’s dead.”

Martin groans, dragging his hands down his face, releasing it with a snap. “Denice, you’re being unreasonable. The guy could’ve had a kid over-“

“He has no kids. And he mentioned it when signing the lease, too.”

“Like hell you remember when he signed that lease.”

“Steel. Trap. Memory. He said, and I quote; ‘I know this neighborhood is real quiet, so don’t worry, I never have anyone over, it’s just me in here.’ End quote.”

Martin rolls his eyes. “He could’ve been watching a movie-“

“That was no movie. It was guttural- and- and real.” Denice shudders, hugging herself as she takes another longing look at the house.

“It could’ve just been him yelling after a rough day-“

“The voice was too high compared to Roger’s.”

“It could’ve been coming from another house, or a person nearby.”

“It was coming from the house.”

Martin stares at her, half nonplussed and half exasperated. When Denice raises an eyebrow at him he simply looks away, staring at nothing in particular as he finds the words to say in response.

When he finally looks back at her, he’s no longer fully disbelieving her, but he’s definitely hesitant. “Look. You heard that noise weeks ago, Denice. Whatever it was, it isn’t there anymore. Plus, do really you think I’m going to go in there when our tenant might have been a psychopath with- people in his house?”

Denice almost glared, but instead she simply took to walk down the dirty stone path to the entryway.

“Denice- Denice, what in the absolute fuck are you doing?!”

“If you don’t want to go, fine. But voice or not, I still need to evaluate the condition of the house.”

“His family might still want his things-”

“He has none he’s close with. He signed his coworkers as references, too. Plus, I have the right to inspect.”

Denice opens the three locks in the front door like clockwork and swiftly opens the door to a dark and dusty apartment. It’s a fairly straightforward layout, with an L-shaped couch and some pillows, a plain carpet, and a coffee table in front of it. On the adjacent wall there’s a television on a shelved stand with some mildly off abstract paintings, strewn with messy strokes of black, blue and red paint. She glances at it for a second and finds herself looking away just as quickly.

Despite that, it was a normal-looking home, if not unsettling because of how abandoned it felt.

The smell is bad, but bearable as she turns on the lights. The furnished living room has a thin layer of untouched dust coating it, as though it finally had time to settle. It’s as she enters the kitchen that the putrid smell hinted at before hits full throttle. She swallows dryly and takes a step back, bumping into… someone’s chest…

Denice shrieks, struggling as a hand is placed on her shoulder-

“Shush! It’s me!” She snaps open her shut eyes and relaxes only slightly upon seeing Martin’s worried face looking back. He retreats his hand and takes two paces back himself, arms up in caution. “Sorry I grabbed you.”

“Oh-!” She heaves to herself, pressing a palm to her chest as if guiding her lungs to stretch further. “I-It’s okay, just don’t- don’t do that again, Mart.”

Martin nods, grimacing from the overall scent of the home. “I’m really sorry… Um.. I found these keys? They were on a keyring next to the door, but they don’t seem to belong to any of the locks.”

“Keep them for now. Maybe he changed some? We’ll have to check if he put a lock or three somewhere here.”

“Isn’t that against the lease?” he asks whilst putting the small wad of keys in his back pocket.

“I’ve got other things to worry about right now… But we’ll need to look through the whole house.”

Denice inspects the room. Kitchenware, some appliances- a toaster oven, a blender… A very… diverse knifeblock… She pulls out a knife, only to find that it seemed recently polished.

Martin notices her interest in them. “Maybe he was interested in keeping everything maintained. The rest of the house seems pretty neat.”

Denice glances at the oxidation creeping from one of the thinner knives and doesn’t touch it. “…Maybe.”

“Is it me, or is the smell coming in stronger from the refrigerator?” Martin asks, but seems hesitant to open it.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Martin grimaces and looks away from the fridge as he pries it open. The lights snap on, revealing worms and maggots feasting on rotted food. One or two grown flies emerge from the indistinguishable piles of muck and escape the fridge as Martin slams the door shut. “SHIT!”

“The fridge wasn’t closed properly, I’m guessing…”

“You’re guessing? Shit’s a pigsty.”

“That’s what happens when food rots near the presence of flies, Mart.”

Martin gags. “No shit, Sherlock. Hell, did anybody even come in the house after he died?”

“I doubt it… Let’s just move on.”

“Let’s.” Replies Martin, looking through the cabinets. There were several lining the corners of the room, about twenty total; ten above and ten below. Unsurprisingly, a variety of spiders had long made their homes inside of the spaces from the absence of movement. The occasional pest would skitter between the raised boards, one of which being a cockroach large enough to garner a scream from the buxom woman. Martin was ever quick to kill it, slightly more composed than his counterpart.

“I don’t get why he’d have so little spices and so much salt.” Martin finally remarks, opening one of the upper cabinets.

“Maybe he likes pickling food?” Denice supplies, frowning at the dust layering the pots and pans below.

“I doubt it. His fridge would’ve been a lot more tolerable- and less… maggoty.” Martin shudders and proceeds.

Denice is opening yet another cabinet door when the realization finally hits her- She snaps back to a rather calm Martin, who was inspecting one of the bags. “Wait! Mart!”

Martin simply stared at her, nonplussed. “What?”

Denice stares back at him, then his hand. “Wait… didn’t you mention that salt burned you guys?”

Martin looks at the salt in question and chuckles softly, then pats the leaking paper bag. “Don’t worry, salt is only a big deal for obligate vamps.”

“Oh.”

“Yep. Plus I’m almost sure this is full of drugs.”

“It’s too granulated for that, Mart.”

“You never know.” Martin shrugged and placed it on the counter, continuing his run-through.

Why was she even doing this anymore? Did she really want to know what else was here?

…And yet, she finds herself opening the last cabinet regardless, surprised to see a different, smaller fridge inside it.

“…Mart, did we ever leave a mini-fridge here?”

“No? why would he own a separate fridge? Did he own snakes? a lizard of some kind?”

Denice cracks it open, shuddering at the sickening smell of iron and old blood, all in bloated vacuum-sealed bags, separating into clear, off-yellow plasma and coagulated chunks of dark rot. “He- he’s human, right?”

“Yeah? His ID would’ve specified if he were a supernatural.”

“Martin… Either he was a vampire, or he has enough blood to house one for no reason.”

“Blood? Wait-“ Martin ambles over to see it and retches at the sight, spitting into an overfilled trashcan nearby.

“Holy shit.“

“Martin- hey, it's okay man.” Denice rubs small circles on his back, and Martin coughs in his panic until it slowly died down. All is quiet between them, buzzing with unsaid questions.

"It's the smell that's killing me. It's wrong. Blood shouldn't be.." He straightens- realizing something until the last words finish his thought. "...wasted. Denice."

She perks at the call. "What?"

“You need a license to buy blood.” He silently mentions, the statement lingers in the air, weighter. His slitted pupils are wide and anxious.

Denice looks back at the minifridge, glancing at the almost rudimentary setup for storing the bags, compared to the professional handling she's seen with actual banks on the few times she accompanied Martin.

“I think-… I think this was his own. And you aren’t supposed to house vampires—even if you sign for them.” Denice feels her stomach lurch as she closes the door of the minifridge.

Martin looks at the blood with an apathetic sort of disgust, the bags having insulted his senses for the last time. “Will you please close the fridge already? The kitchen smells awful as it is.”

“Oh- Sorry. Let me just-“ She tries to close it normally, but it doesn’t really shut. A bit more pressure is applied, and even then the door bounces back open. One of the bags had clearly tilted out of shape when she opened it, but… Denice was not about to touch it more than she had to already.

She gives it a hearty shove.

There’s a squelch when it shuts, leaving a gush of sickly, yellow-tinted plasma to shoot and bead along the dirty linoleum flooring. Some clots of dark, runny sickness sputter and run down the fridge door

“…I burst one.” Denice gags while a strangled sound escapes Martin’s chest.

Martin heaves dryly, pressing a fist to his lips and an arm around his stomach as though it would stop him from vomiting altogether. They really should’ve placed a better window in the kitchen.

This could’ve been a nice afternoon.

“Den- Denice, I need to take a breather, yeah? or- or- I’ll definitely throw up. Let’s get to somewhere else- I can’t- I-”

“Y-Yeah… Let’s just get out and recuperate a little.”

Denice walked out of the kitchen with Martin following closely behind, his breaths stifled to try and limit the amount of bad air he inhaled.

But now Denice was even more unsure if she wanted to see what else lied in the house. Even with someone as strong as Martin beside her, she felt nervous. Uncertain.

Afraid.

Martin seemed to sense her worry and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We can always leave. You don’t have to stay here and see whatever else was in here.”

Denice enjoys his touch a little longer, thinking on what to say in response. In truth, she did want to leave. She wanted to leave from the beginning. But seeing just what they found now… Well, the knowledge would only eat at her if she didn’t find a conclusion to this.

“…Let’s just see the rest of the place, and we’ll leave right away. Is that okay with you?” She says despite herself. Martin looks absolutely disinterested in continuing the search for the scream’s source, but sighs. “I’ll go.” The relief Denice feels at those two words is immense. “But only because I don’t want you to be in here by yourself.”

“Thank you Mart.” “Don’t mention it.” His tone is curt yet warm, and Denice opens the door to the staircase with a bit more confidence.

They walked up the pine stairs with little conversation- the smell noticeably got better as they left the kitchen area, until it was replaced entirely by the musty scent of dust and no air circulation. The other two bedrooms were normal; they were replaced with an office and storeroom, both of which had no outstanding features. In truth, besides the paintings, there was a very little amount of personality in his home décor.

The attic was a different story altogether.

Martin bumped his head for the third time on the attic’s ceiling when Denice had seen it- shackles. Chains. Restrains of all shapes and sizes. Whips, prods, pokers and knives. Tasers and Gags and ropes and belts and flails- and a bowl.

A bowl of water, next to a spray bottle. Martin touches it and recoils- hissing to himself as he stared at his now reddening hand.

His burned hand.

----

They stumble out of there, disconcerted and horrified as each of them try not to think too hard on their findings. The lawn door creaks and wanes on its rusty hinges until they both find a place to sit under a lawn table’s umbrella and chairs.

And so they sat, not quite talking but exchanging conversation through glances alone. Martin takes a deep, shuddering breath and holds his head in both hands while Denice hugs herself, desperately trying to make sense of it.

But no matter what, they couldn’t quite make sense of it. It could have easily been confirmation-bias, but every path seemed to lead back to her original theory, and they hated it.

Martin still looked unnerved, his grey-tinted features dark despite the sun peeking out on him. He tapped his fingers against the clouded glass and grimaced- rubbing his fingers together at the gritty feeling of muck layering the table. He takes a quick sip of his flask and grunts as his burnt hand slowly starts regrowing the tissue.

"...It was concentrated." He eventually says after noticing her worried glances. "Fuckin' liquid was probably saltier than the ocean. Could've been acid for all I know. "

Denice felt herself losing composure as well- an internal tremor echoed through her as her worries piled on. Further and further it pushed her will to continue looking. Yet the most she could do was retreat into a better space- a more optimistic section of her thoughts where the noise she heard was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

She couldn’t imagine how Martin could feel about this- he was a vampire himself, and was now dealing with the possible reality of one of their tenants illegally hosting an unregistered vampire in his home. Torturing a vampire. Feeding it with his own blood to avoid getting into a registry.

She can't unthink it. She doesn't want it to be true, and yet she feels it's growing more real by the second.

She's rethinking every instance with the tenant, no longer a placid young man with a mild interest in the arts, but holding those pokers, those knives, those weapons, and using it on someone. On her. On Martin.

She desperately hoped for it to be a joke. A gag. Something unreal and unbelievable, as Martin had told her just an hour ago. But reality was setting in too quickly for fantasy to fill in the gaps, and now she had seen too much.

Martin was the first to speak.

“I’m calling the police.” It’s such a firm statement that it leaves Denice even more unsure. If they called the police, what would happen? Did they really expect something to make sense if they did? For some justice when they didn’t even know if the man did this? They would most certainly laugh. Laugh at them both for calling them over simply because they saw some odd things in his own home.

She remembers how each weapon had drying flecks of dark ichor lacing them and gags.

“…It's not going to be a good idea. There isn't much in terms of evidence.”

Martin glared at her momentarily, his gaze only softening upon seeing her distress. “We can show them what we found-“

“And then what?”

Martin looked away and at his hand, pensively staring at the mottling patchwork of repairs on his skin. “I don’t know.”

Denice unknit her brow. “Well… we still have one last room to search through. None of the keys fit the other doors. If we see something truly incriminating, we'll call.”

Martin flexed his now-healed hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling forcibly as though trying to grasp his last strands of composure. Or savoring the fresh air while he still could.

“Fine, but I’m not going back there for longer than I have to, and neither are you. Comprendes?”

She nods, now set and resolute. Martin stood up and stretched, his joints popping until he heaved a breath and walked to follow his partner. The one place they hadn’t searched. The last room. The room they both dreaded entering.

The basement.

#might edit later #i dont know man im tired #denice and martin #they argue like an old married couple #whump #tw whump #vampire whump #martin is a vampire

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amberskywrites · 3 years

Text

My Everything

“This Love” Collection

AO3 Link || Masterpost

Fandom / Genre: Nanatsu no Taizai (The Seven Deadly Sins) / Hurt/Comfort (leaning more towards comfort)

Pairing: Meliodas/Liz

Warnings: Injuries, Near death, Character almost bleeds out, Mention of slavery (Liz's past), lmk if anything needs to be added!

Notes: “This Love” Collection is a series of one shots that all take place in the same... AU? In this story people have marks which represent the strong bonds people make with others. It’s kinda like a soulmate AU, except it’s not pre-destined love and the marks can fade. Relationships will vary, from both romantic to platonic to familial. Imma attempt to post one of these weekly until I feel I’m happy with how many of these stories I’ve made!

Liz never understood the only bond mark that stained her skin.

It looked to her like a poorly drawn dragon, or some kind of shadow that was supposed to look like a cruel beast but a child had made it look cute and harmless.

She didn't know how or who she had the mark. She had never formed a strong bond with anyone. She was a slave, an object essentially, forced to do whatever her master wanted. She'd never had the chance to make friends or stay with family, and she didn't try. She had given up on trying a long, long time ago.

And when she had been taken captive by Danafor, she was almost relieved. The worst that would happen was she was put to death, but that didn't seem as bad as being forced to return to her previous life.

Then he had shown up, making a scene that was utterly ridiculous and infuriating. The kingdom he was loyal to, made his enemy if they tried to put her to death? He didn't even know her!

Still, he welcomed her into his home and she was just so confused. He was patient and kind to her, tried to cook for her (she had insisted he never cook for her again after one bite of his food, and she found herself cooking for them both). He welcomed her as a knight, a fierce warrior to protect the kingdom and helped her make friends with the other holy knights in the kingdom.

Not that she needed much help, but the little nudge to be open about getting to know people helped.

They had lived together for awhile, and had fallen into a routine she liked. Train for most of the day, go out drinking, come home, have dinner, then Go to bed. Sometimes they'd go to the meadow and enjoy the nice day, and other times they'd both stay home.

They also had an unspoken rule, one where they didn't mention bond marks. It was an odd rule - to Liz, at least. The people of Danafor made a show of their marks, boasting about their lovers or friends or family. Although a welcoming community, strong bonds meant to last years were difficult to form, and people wore their marks proudly.

Meliodas seemed even more like an oddity, keeping not only the marks of others hidden away on his chest but his own mark was kept out of sight. His sleeves never slipped down past his wrists and Liz had never once even seen him need medical attention that would require the removal of his shirt. She was curious as to what the marks could be, what they looked like, and figured she'd jump at the chance to see them.

She had been very wrong.

Liz realized pretty quickly she didn't care about the chance of seeing his bond mark, not with Meliodas curled in her lap and gasping for breath. Blood stained her trousers and shirt as she moved him as carefully as she could, freezing at the hiss and small whimper that followed.

"You're so goddamn stupid," Liz hissed, ignoring the tears welling in her eyes as she took a quick look around to try and find their healer. The tears slipped out as Meliodas' breathing only grew more ragged and she held him tighter, finally spotting the healer's tent in the distance and she began to sprint towards it.

She met the healer half way, who took Meliodas from her arms, panic clear in their expression. It wasn't everyday Danafor's grand master was on death's doorstep, after all.

The healer requested that Liz remain outside, letting the entrance to the tent fall closed. Liz cursed profusely under her breath and scrubbed at her face, trying to get the tears to stop flowing.

She was covered in blood that wasn't her own and it was because Meliodas was so goddamn stupid as to jump in front of her when someone was attacking. He hadn't even tried to block! He had taken the sword to the stomach and Liz had been sickened to see the bloodied sword clatter to the ground along with the idiot who had attacked them.

Liz was furious, and now that her anxiety that he wouldn't make it in time was receding because he was safe now, she allowed herself to be angry. Meliodas was smarter than this! He was a formidable opponent even without a sword, and he never once got injured this badly in a battle. Never.

She paced the entire time she was outside, glaring at the ground and tugging at her sleeves harshly every few seconds. It felt like hours went by before the healer opened the tent.

Liz clasped her hands over her chest, praying to the goddesses that what she was about to hear was good news. She didn't think she could handle it if Meliodas died.

The healer smiled slightly. "He's still asleep, but… he's healed completely, and just needs some more rest." Liz sighed in relief, her shoulders sagging at the news. "Maybe you can take him home?" Liz nodded wordlessly, following the healer inside the tent.

She spotted that he didn't have any shirt on, and averted her eyes instinctively. The healer helped her get Meliodas onto her back without waking him, and Liz thanked the healer before leaving.

The sky was already a deep blue dotted with stars by the time Meliodas stirred. Liz was by his bedside, dozing off on the floor on his side. She didn't want to settle in the bed, fearing she may have hurt him if she did. Liz knew that while the healers could heal wounds incredibly well, more often than not people still felt pain afterward. Specifically, they'd be really sore. And Liz didn't want to test if he was sore just yet.

He groaned softly, and Wandle made a loud noise which startled Liz awake. She looked up at the bird with a light glare, before looking to Meliodas, who was slowly blinking awake. Liz's heart jumped to her throat as she bolted up to check on him.

Meliodas looked almost dazed, and he stared up at the ceiling for a moment before glancing around, shoulders tensing. He seemed to relax when he spotted Liz, a small smile appearing on his face.

They stared at each other for a few moments in utter silence, until Meliodas broke it in a whisper. "I'm glad you're okay."

Liz felt her heart squeeze and she couldn't help but move closer and wrap him up in a hug, pulling him close and choking back a sob. Meliodas froze at the sudden action before melting into her arms, wrapping his own around her tightly.

"You moron," Liz muttered, burying her face in his shoulder. "You know better than to pull that kind of thing!"

She heard Meliodas snicker, his hands rubbing her back soothingly before she pulled away to glare at him with watery eyes.

"I knew I'd be fine," he reasoned. Liz's glare intensified, and the amused smile fell from Meliodas' face. Instead, one of confusion crossed it. "... Were you really that worried?"

Liz took a deep breath, and wiped away some of her tears with one hand while the other went to Meliodas' chest. She had seen the mark there, had seen her own mark on his chest already, and now she placed her palm above it. Meliodas' eyes widened slightly as she brought her other hand to her own chest, tapping over his mark on her lightly.

"You're my everything, Meliodas. Seeing you bleeding out… it was terrifying." She sniffled, not meeting his eyes. "I… I can't… if I lost you so suddenly, I don't… I don't think I could handle it."

She tried to take a deep breath. Meliodas brought his hands to hers and clasped them tightly, reassuringly, drawing their hands away from their chests to rest between them. Their fingers interlocked and Meliodas gave her hands a light squeeze. Liz glances up and he catches her gaze.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Liz." His voice had taken on a new tone, and Liz thought he looked as though he may cry as well. He tugged her closer gently, and she followed his lead, settling into bed beside him. He buried his face in her chest and she huffed, though wasn't too annoyed. "I can't lose you either, you're my entire world… I don’t-" he took a deep breath, “I’d do anything to make sure you were safe.”

Meliodas glanced up from her chest, his cheeks tinted a light red and Liz felt her heart melt. She brought her hands to his jaw and wiped away a stray tear, and she tilted his face up. She leaned a little closer, but waited for him to give a nod before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Meliodas hummed softly into the kiss, almost a purr, his hands wrapping protectively around Liz as they kissed slowly. Liz began to run one of her hands through his hair before eventually just cupping his face.

"Will you make me a promise, if I make you one?" Liz asked softly when they pulled apart. Meliodas nodded, careful not to bump their heads too hard. Liz caressed his cheek as she thought. "If I promise to be more careful in battle, will you promise me you'll be more careful too, please?"

His heart squeezed at her words. How many times had he made that promise and then failed to keep it?

Meliodas smiled almost sadly, bringing his own hand up to her face. "I promise."

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illmaticreid · 4 years

Text

We Fell in Love in October - Part Three

DESCRIPTION: Noah is in college studying film and has been a very boring freshman thus far. Her roommate demands that she goes to a party with her and this is where she meets an extremely bold Matthew.

Warnings: smut, language, drinking

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out!! I appreciate all the love the first two chapters got. I would love some feedback or if you guys have any ideas please lmk <3333

Word Count: 2,786

PART TWO | PART FOUR

The week had gone by smoothly, and I hadn't seen Matthew outside of class at all. I was trying to do my best to keep a distance between us. He made that very hard considering the flirting through texts and in person never stopped.

I was trying not to get attached to Matthew because as far as I knew, this was just sex. Mindblowing sex that left me wanting more and more of him every single day. A part of me would love to tell him how I feel about him. The other part of me knows what happens to girls who spill their hearts out to guys who couldn't give a shit.

Luckily, Ellie had invited me to another party tonight. I was looking forward to it because I would be able to relieve some stress and maybe even see a certain someone. I let Ellie do my hair and makeup like always, knowing how happy it made her to see me all dolled up.

Tonight was supposed to be very casual considering only a handful of people were coming. So, I opted for a much more casual outfit than last time. I had on a denim skirt and a cropped NYU shirt that was so short my lacy bralette peaked out from underneath. I didn't intentionally cut it so short but it looked cuter this way anyways.

"I am so jealous of you. How can you be so effortlessly beautiful?" Ellie asked me with a sad look in her eyes as I finished getting ready.

"You have no reason to be jealous, Ellie. I see how guys look at you, you're gorgeous." It was the truth, she had beautiful long black hair and bright blue eyes. If anything, I was jealous of her looks. She gave me a sweet smile as a thank you and we headed out to our Uber.

The place we were driving to tonight was somewhere different. Someone else that I had never met. I didn't mind being around new faces, it was nice to meet new people.

When we walked through the door, many people stood up to greet Ellie with hugs and hellos. I said hi to everyone absentmindedly as I scanned the room for Matthew. I quickly spotted his brown hair in a corner, talking with a couple of other guys. I immediately felt flustered as I looked at him. How could he make me feel this way when he's 20 feet away?

Ellie's friends kept talking to me and telling me how excited they were to meet me or how nice it was to meet me. I replied, saying the same thing back to them but, I wasn't exactly paying attention. He was the only thing that I cared about, I couldn't focus on anything else. He's driving me crazy.

I wanted to do everything I could to make it seem like I didn't come to this part just for him, even though I did. I started talking to other people and swigging back drinks. I had already taken about 5 shots in the past 30 minutes.

I know I said I didn't really like liquor, but tonight it would have to do. I felt myself getting a little tipsy as I took my sixth shot. Someone started playing music on a speaker nearby. It wasn't obnoxiously loud, but it definitely made some girls get up and start dancing.

"Dance with me," I told Ellie before I took another shot with her. She nodded her head excitedly and we started dancing in a cramped kitchen. I started laughing as my face started going numb and I realized how much of a lightweight I was. Ellie grabbed my hips and bent me over so I could sway my hips against her. Someone offered us another round of shots and we gladly took them with smiles on our faces.

"I love you," Ellie screamed in my face as we kept dancing with each other. My head fell back with laughter as I let out loud giggles.

"I love you more!!!" We laughed with each other and kept dancing like no one was watching. I felt my body getting very sweaty so I stopped to get a drink. I probably should have gotten water but instead, I just made myself a mixed drink. I chugged the entire cup within a couple of seconds, and I wiped the remnants of my drink with the back of my hand.

My eyes scanned the room unconsciously, and I found Matthew again. Except this time, he wasn't talking with some friends. He was talking to a girl who was unsettlingly close to his face. They talked quietly with each other as if they were in their own little world.

I felt my body fill with rage as I stared at them more and more. I was a very jealous and protective person so, something like this would obviously piss me off. I wanted to scream. But, I had to be smart about this. I wanted to make it seem like I had the upper hand this entire time. I quickly took two more shots, trying to build up my confidence.

I walked over to them and tried to keep my balance because frankly, the room was spinning a little right now. Keep it together, Noah. Their eyes met mine as I approached them.

"Hi, Matthew," I said with a sultry voice as I leaned up to kiss his cheek. His face immediately turned the cutest shade of red. Normally that would make my heart flutter, but right now, it was doing the complete opposite.

He gave me a small smile and weakly said, "Hello." The girl that he was speaking to must have been very confused, so I decided to give her a little show. I wrapped my arm around his back and put my hand on his chest.

'Hi, I'm Noah. Nice to meet you," I said to her, trying to make my voice sound as sweet as possible. I put my hand out towards her, trying to shake her hand. She looked almost as uncomfortable as Matthew.

"Um..hi, I'm Stella. Nice to meet you too," she finally spoke out. If I thought my face was numb earlier, it was definitely numb now. They both didn't say another word, so I figured I would break the silence.

"What are you guys up to?"

"Nothing, we're not doing anything," Matthew said hurriedly. Yeah, that's believable, I thought to myself.

"Oh okay great. Then you wouldn't mind dancing with me, baby?" I asked Matthew, gleaming up at him.

"Sure."

"Bye Stella! It was so nice meeting you," I said to her sarcastically as I waved bye to her and pulled Matthew with me by his hand. He gave her an embarrassed look as she just rolled her eyes and walked away.

Obviously, I didn't want to seriously dance with Matthew. I just wanted to get him alone so I could tell him how much of an asshole he was. I could feel the vodka flowing through my blood and I probably should have stopped drinking a while ago but, who was going to stop me? I stopped in the kitchen to take a shot.

"Do you want to take a shot with me? You look like you need one, baby," I asked him before pouring two shots anyways.

"I'm okay, Noah. Why hasn't anyone cut you off, yet?" I ignored his response by taking a shot and shoving the other one into his face. I let out a loud giggle as he took the shot unwillingly. His face scrunched up and his whole body shuddered. He was so adorable. I wanted him to fuck me into next Tuesday. I grabbed his hand and walked around to a quieter and more secluded area so we could talk.

"Did I tell you how cute you look right now?" I asked him as I kissed his neck sloppily, letting my tongue glide against his skin.

"You look very cute too. Your lips are bright pink. How much have you had to drink?" His thumb rubbed against my bottom lip and me being horny, I shoved the entire thing into my mouth and sucked on it. He smiled at me before taking away his thumb completely and resting his hand on my visible rib cage.

"But, your shirt is basically falling off of your body. You might as well just wear your bra by itself," he said matter of factly as he tugged on my shirt, exposing more of my skin.

"You would like that, wouldn't you, Matthew?"

"Of course I would, sweet cheeks."

As much as he was making my girly bits tingle, I was still supposed to be mad at him. I wasn't gonna just forget that he was flirting and eye-fucking this random girl. Like I said, I know we aren't exclusive but at least be decent enough to not do it in front of me.

"So, what were you planning on doing with that girl? Were you gonna take her back to your apartment and fuck her?" I asked him, not fully ready for the answer he was going to give me.

"Why Noah? You don't like the thought of me fucking someone else?" He jibed back. The thought alone made my skin crawl.

"So you were going to fuck her. That's all you care about. I don't want to be apart of your stupid game anymore." I told him seriously. As much as I loved being around him, I wasn't ready to be some side hoe or whatever.

"No, I don't want to fuck anyone but you. I like spending time with you, you make me happy, Noah." His face looked sad like he was really hurt that I thought that about him.

"I feel that way about you too, Matthew. That's why I wouldn't go to a party and start flirting with the first person that gives me the time of day." I did feel bad for being so harsh with my words but, I meant it.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I have no idea what I was thinking." He spoke sadly as he wiped a single tear from my cheek. I hadn't even realized I was crying. Drunk me is an idiot.

I leaned up towards him and connected my lips with his. I wanted to make sure he knew everything was okay, and this was the best way I knew how. I deepened the kiss and let my hands find their way between his curly hair. He tasted like mint and a little bit of vodka, it was tantalizing.

I stopped myself before things got too crazy, even though I wanted nothing more than to take him into some random room and continue on.

"You taste like you drank a handle of vodka," Matthew said when I pulled away, laughing at me. I giggled with him and neither of us could stop laughing. I hid my face in his chest with embarrassment, knowing that he was right.

"Take me home," I said to him as the laughter stopped.

"Of course."

We both knew that home meant his apartment. I texted Ellie letting her know that I left and I was okay. She sent me a winky emoji back, knowing good and well who I left with.

The whole car ride to his apartment, Matthew left his hand on my knee. He rubbed circular motions on my inner thigh and I felt my head spinning. I leaned over the center console and began kissing his neck, nibbling on his ear every so often.

"You're distracting the driver, my sweet girl."

"Oh? You can't handle it?" I whispered into his ear and licked up the side of his neck. He chuckled lowly, sending a shiver through my body.

"I think it's you that can't handle it." Matthew had a sinister grin on his face and I shortly realized why. His hand slipped up my skirt and he moved my panties to the side with ease. I gasped and moaned all at the same time.

"All this for me? Aw baby, you shouldn't have." He said as he gathered my slickness on his finger before sliding it into my entrance. He was right, I couldn't handle it. I immediately fell back into my seat, trying to surrender. That didn't stop him, though. He continued to fuck me with his finger, knowing exactly what it was doing to me. My head flew back as he curled his finger inside me and stroked my g-spot. I felt my stomach tighten as he continued.

Just when I was on the brink of orgasming, he pulled into a parking spot outside of his apartment complex and removed his finger completely. I opened my eyes and looked at him, with a look of shock on my face. He took his fingers into his mouth and sucked my wetness off of them.

Matthew moaned around his fingers and his eyes rolled back before he stopped and said, "I love the way you taste. I can't wait to get you upstairs. Unless, of course, you can't handle it, Noah? That would be such a shame." I pulled my skirt down quickly and got out of his car. I heard him let out a laugh as I shut the door behind me.

While walking up to his apartment, I felt my excitement dripping down my thighs when they rubbed together. Holy shit, I am such a mess. As we walked through his front door, he threw me over his shoulder with ease and carried me to his room. He gently laid me down onto his bed, and slowly took my skirt off.

Things felt a little different considering we never acted like this. It was always rough and crazy. He could sense that I felt as though something was off.

"I want to take care of you. Lay back for me, baby," he spoke and laid a gentle kiss on my lips. Without saying anything else, I scooted back onto his bed and laid down. He took my panties off and just stared at me. I felt my face get hot, getting slightly embarrassed.

"Is there something wrong?"

Matthew looked up at me and simply said, "You're beautiful." My heart felt heavy in my chest at his sweet words. He could say the most meaningless thing, and it would still make me feel some type of way.

He grabbed onto the top of my thighs and pulled my ass to the end of the bed as he got onto his knees. My feet rested on the back of his shoulders and his face found a home in between my legs. He laid gentle kisses all over my thighs before kissing me right where I needed it the most.

He paused before placing his tongue on me and laying it flat against me. I was already soaked. He teased my entrance making me squirm even more. I grabbed the sheets tightly with my hands and of course, Matthew noticed and shot me a devilish grin.

He slipped a finger inside of me and continued to tease me. He knew my body very well and could always tell when I was close. It could be because I was always moaning as loud as possible. He inserted another finger in me before sucking on my clit. My back arched off of the bed as my legs started to shake.

"Fuck, Matthew." I moaned out as I came close to my orgasm. He started pumping his fingers faster and just demolishing me with his mouth. I felt the knot inside of me get tighter and tighter as I came onto his mouth, spewing out profanities.

As always, he would never stop on his own. I had to push his head away from me so I could relax for a second. My legs were still shaking as I tried to crawl toward his nightstand to grab a condom.

"I want tonight to only be about you," Matthew whispered to me as he put the condom away. I had a defeated look on my face, knowing that I finished without him.

As if he could read my mind, he said "it's not always tit for tat. I enjoyed it just as much as you did. Besides, you need to rest for the morning sex I will unleash on you tomorrow."

My mouth fell open and he just laughed at me. As much as I wanted to return the favor, he reassured me it wasn't necessary. After Matthew cleaned me off, he climbed into bed next to me and I fell asleep to the sound of him breathing.

#mgg #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg fic #spencer x reader #spencer reid #mgg x oc #spencer x oc #Matthew Gray Gubler #college!matthew

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