#tim mcgee x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imawkwardlysoc · 1 year

Text

please don't be in love with someone else

Song- Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Pairing- tim mcgee x female! reader

Warning(s)- Just lots of dialogue if that counts (sorry about that)

Wordcount- 1,414

Summary- A reader has to come to her sense on who she wants in the future

“So,” I walked into the lab, twirling myself in my outfit. “What do you think?”

“Oh my,” Abby jumped up and down while clapping. “You look so cute!”

“I have to agree.” I looked over to see Tony, Ziva, and Tim walking into the lab.

“That dress is cute,” Ziva complimented my ash blue wrap dress with white polka dots scattered around it.

“Thanks,” I thanked them and I faced my lab partner. “You’re sure you’ll be fine when I’m gone?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she reassured me. “Now go on your date. Who knows? Something might happen.”

“Yeah,” I put on my denim jacket and threw my bag over my shoulder. “Well, I’m gonna get going now. See y’all tomorrow.”

All of them said their goodbyes and I headed to the elevator. Pressing the button, I waited for a little bit before the doors opened and I walked in.

“Hold the elevator!” I heard Tim’s voice and I pressed the hold button. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” I smiled.

“So, you have a date with Darren?” He asked.

“Yeah, I do,” I nodded my head and let out a chuckle. “I have a feeling that he’s going to propose.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrow. “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know to be honest.”

“You don’t know?”

“I mean,” I sighed and leaned against the elevator wall. “We’ve talked about it once but never talked about it again.”

“Well, do yourself with him for the rest of your life?” The agent asked.

“This is turning into an interrogation,”I let out a laugh as I switched the elevator off. “Why do you want to know McGee?”

“I’m just wondering,” he explained. “Marriage is a serious thing. You’re going to spend the rest of your life with that man and possibly have kids together.”

“And we’ll figure that out kids later,” I told him.

“Again, do you see yourself with him forever?” He asked again.

“Again McGee, why do you want to know?” I started to become agitated.

“Because he doesn’t deserve you!” He waved his arms in the air. “You don’t deserve him!”

“How do you know who I deserve?” I scoffed.

“Because of the amount of late nights we spend together while working on a case and your rants about the guys you go on dates with aren’t fitting into your standards,” he answered. “You also talk about how much Darren disappoints you but you’re still with him. Why is that?”

“Because I love him!” I turned the elevator back on again.

“Even though he disappoints you constantly?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I sighed with a questioning tone and whispered the last part. “Even though he’s not you.”

With the doors opening, we walked out of the elevator feeling tense from the conversation we just had. Giving Tim a small smile, I started to make my way out.

“Hey Y/N,” I looked over to see Tim. “Just think about it okay?”

Nodding my head, I walked out of the building and got into my car. Throughout my drive to the restaurant where I’m meeting Darren, I thought about the conversation that happened in the elevator.

Was I really in love with Darren?

Is he the right person for me?

With the sound of a honk knocking me out of my thoughts, I saw the light was green and continued to drive. Pulling up into a parking spot, I got out of the car and walked into the little Italian restaurant. Looking around I saw Darren sitting at one of the tables in the back more dressed up than usual. Walking up to the table, I greeted him with a kiss on the lips and sat down across from him. Opening the menu, it took me a few minutes before ordering what I wanted to eat. With wine being poured in our glasses after ordering, we clinked glasses and I took a big sip of wine.

Throughout dinner, I conversed with Darren about his day at work. Since he’s the press secretary for a freshman congressman, it was mostly about setting his boss’ agenda for election season. I really tried to listen to him but the conversation that Tim and I kept on replaying in my head.

“Hey, are you okay?” Darren asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “Just had a busy day at work.”

“Constantly running blood tests and fingerprints?” He let out a light chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” I gave him a smile.

He knows that I’m a forensic scientist but he doesn’t know that I work for NCIS and a field agent if needed.

Wrapping up dinner, Darren suggested that we should take a walk in the nearby park. Agreeing to that suggestion, we grabbed our things and headed out of the restaurant to the park.

Looking up at the sky, it turned from its normal blue color to a hue of orange, yellow, and purple, indicating that the sun is setting. The cool spring wind blew the cherry blossoms off the trees which landed in my hair. I could see the anxious feeling that Darren was radiating off of him as we got closer to the gazebo.

“Can I ask you something?” He faced me and grabbed both of my hands.

“What is it?” I started to feel my heart beating rapidly.

“I wanted to make this whole speech but I know you like it when people are straight to the point,” he chuckled, getting down on one knee and pulling out a velvet box. “Will you-”

“No,” I interrupted him.

“What?” He questioned

“No, I’m saying no,” I told him. “I know what you’re going to ask and I can’t.”

“Why?” He questioned while getting up from the ground.

“I just can’t,” I looked at him. “I don’t imagine us together and I’m sorry about that. You’re just not the person that I want to marry.”

The sound of rain soon filled my ears as tears formed in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Walking out of the gazebo, rain started to pour down on me. Without any care of the world, I walked in the rain back to my car. Shutting the door, I started to let out a bunch of tears. Leaning back on my chair and closing my eyes, the image of Tim entered my head.

He’s the only person I want to be with. I want to be with him, not a person not like him. I just hope he feels the same way.

Looking at the time on my phone, I started my car and made my way to the apartment. Parking my car when I reached it, I got out of my car and locked it before climbing up the stairs to the level where the apartment was. As I got closer, I heard the sound of typewriting muffled through the front door. Knocking on the door, I heard the typing stop and the sound of footsteps.

“Y/N?” Tim opened his door. “What are you doing here and wet? Come in.”

Walking into his apartment, he gave me a towel and thanked him. “I told him no.”

“So he did propose?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“Why?” He questioned as I saw him going into his room.

“Because he’s not the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with,” I explained. “He’s just not-”

I let out a groan and covered my face. “Just not what?”

“He’s not you McGee!” I confessed and got up from my seat. “He doesn’t listen to me while I rant about work. He doesn’t geek out with me about the latest Doctor Who episode or the next Nintendo game. All he does is talks about politi- umph”

With Tim’s lips placed on my lips, the towel he gave me dropped onto the floor, I wrapped my arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around my waist. Fireworks started to explode in my stomach as we continued to kiss. His kisses were more soft and tender than Darren’s. They were more passionate which I love. Detaching our lips, we looked each other in the eyes with our blushed faces while catching our breaths.

“You don’t know how long I waited to do that,” he whispered.

“Too damn long?” I chuckled. “So, what now?”

“A trip to the Air and Space Smithsonian next week?” He suggested. “I heard they have a new exhibit about Pluto.”

“That sounds great.”

#tim mcgee x reader #timothy mcgee x reader #ncis x reader #tim mcgee #timothy mcgee #tony dinozzo #anthony dinozzo #ziva david #abby sciuto #ncis fic #ncisverse #ncis #Spotify

265 notes · View notes

beeps-mess · 1 year

Text

Autistic Reader + NCIS Team (Part Two)

Once again, little drabbles of a gender-neutral reader with autism interacting with the NCIS team. This one has Jack, Ducky, Tony, Tim, Kasie, and Nick.

AO3

Part One

Reblogs > Likes

Jack had picked up on your routine and habits quickly. She knew what time you arrived every morning, she knew how you took your coffee, and that you had to have a specific lid on the cup or else the texture made everything taste horrible when drinking. This information came into hand pretty soon after she noticed it. You had stayed at the office with Gibbs, working through different paperwork, and Tim had tried to be nice by picking you up coffee. Unfortunately, you had worked yourself to the bone, too tired to speak up when you felt the gross paper lid on your lips. Logically, Jack knew you were most likely semi-verbal, if not nonverbal, and waited until you had left to go to the restroom to explain the preference when it came to lid texture. By the time you came back, there was a plastic lid on the coffee cup, one that didn’t make you want to spit the drink back out. You spun around the room, seeing blonde hair retreat into her office before you could even call out her name. A plastic reusable lid showed up on your desk the next week, fitting onto the cups from the nearest coffee shop that had the paper lids.

In your early days at NCIS, you avoided the morgue, finding the smell of bleach too overwhelming. As time went on, you got attached to Ducky, facing the strong smell to talk to the doctor. You would go back and forth with random stories, Ducky having heard so many of your stories that he started telling them when they related to a case. At some point, the conversations always made it to the topic of documentaries, a shared love between the two of you. Most days there would be a suggestion on a topic or feedback on a recommendation documentary. At one point, the two of you ended up bumping into each other when checking out DVDs at the same location, deciding it would just be easier to watch them together. It became the normal thing for the two of you to get together twice a month to watch a documentary, the host deciding which one. It was a constant in your life, something you appreciated very much.

When Tony heard you liked a good amount of Steven Spielberg’s movies he was excited, hoping you would like some other classics, but he was wrong. You liked the Jurassic Park movies the most, the Indiana Jones and Back to the Future movies following closely but that was really it. Jaws was okay, Gremlins wasn’t really your thing, and you had a strange distaste for the Goonies, something that made Tony explode when you told him. It was even worse when you said Shrek was a piece of art. All of his other films were too emotional or just didn’t catch your eye. To put it simply, Tony was frustrated, thus, starting a tradition. Once a month you would sit down with Tony and a bowl of popcorn to watch any film he deemed a classic. It was hit and miss, some being great while others just seemed plain dumb. You did appreciate his consideration when it came to the loud noises in the movies, knowing when to turn the volume down or warning you. After multiple movies though, you felt that you needed to share too, causing a rotation to start. One month, he would choose one of his classics, the next, you would choose a sci-fi movie you liked. You didn’t notice how much you liked the silly tradition until he became an agent at sea, which stopped the movies. He would try to throw out movie suggestions but you could never sit down long enough to actually start the film, something he was amused by when he eventually came back.

Tim had stumbled onto you and Tony bickering about movies one day, which piqued his interest. Only really doing so because the topic of the bickering was whether or not Han Solo was a douche. Tony was of the opinion that he wasn’t but you were convinced he was. Tim realized his mistake the moment he realized the topic though. Never walk into a room where two people are bickering especially if it was between you and Tony regarding films. He was immediately asked his stance, causing the conversation to end quickly when he meekly agreed with you. The topic of Star Wars wasn’t brought up again for a while, with work taking up the majority of Tim and your conversations. The topic was finally brought up again when you mentioned going home and being bored, Tim offering for you to come over and watch Star Wars with him. From there, your friendship expanded. Free time at work was spent chatting about similar nerdy stuff and scheduling movie get-togethers.

Kasie had taken up Abby’s tradition of making apparel for new NCIS agents but also added the tradition of making yearly sweaters or caps for the team. Every winter season they were handed out, a cap going to Nick while everyone else would get a sweater. It was a cute tradition and one that you loved until she tried out a new type of yarn. It was horrible. The texture was uncomfortable and you left the sweater in the box for weeks after you got it. Kasie didn’t know until the yearly holiday get-together. Everyone had shown up wearing their gifts except you, who chose to wear the one from last year. She had frowned, only figuring out that you might’ve disliked the yarn texture then. The next week, a new sweater arrived on your desk, the same design and the old one was nowhere to be found.

It was common knowledge that Nick wasn’t the best with words, often panicking when people are emotional around him, so it was surprising for him to sit next to you while you sobbed your ass off. You had gotten deep into a case, becoming horribly sad when another person fell victim to the killer. Nick just sat with you, explaining he didn’t do words but if you needed company he was there. When he tried to stand your hand reached out, grasping his wrist, making him sit back down. He sat with you for an hour in silence.

190 notes · View notes

enretrogue · 2 years

Text

𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬

(These are not my works; full credit goes to the original writers. If you'd like your work removed, just shoot me a message and I'll remove it for you!)

✪ ~ BIPOC reader or writer (if this is wrong or you’d like it added, let me know!)

Fanfic Recs Masterlist

Multi-Character / Misc. Posts

NCIS Masterlist — @hotch-stufff

Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Blurb Masterlist — @hotch-stufff Stake Out — @simpforcrimeshows Blue — @navalcriminalimagines Twilight Zone — @uncpanda Slowing Down — @word-scribbless I’ll Take Care of You — @butterflykissiies Getting Closer — @euthymiaei Fuck Beings Friends — @nerdyfangirl67 Classes — @fanf1ctionwrit1n Gibbs Thoughts — @hotch-stufff Family Masterlist — @word-scribbless Patient and Stubborn — @word-scribbless Date? — @word-scribbless A Time and a Place — @word-scribbless Seen My Hoodie? — @word-scribbless Oh Baby Masterlist — @word-scribbless Little Brothers — @psychadelickate Kidnapped — @psychadelickate Confessions — @psychadelickate Married — @psychadelickate You’re Expecting — @psychadelickate You Almost Died — @psychadelickate Little Black Dress — @psychadelickate Happy Birthday — @psychadelickate Evasive Action — @psychadelickate Jealousy Jealousy — @hotch-stufff Protection ⎢ Part 2 ⎢ Part 3 ⎢ Part 4 — @simpforcrimeshows The Smell of Home ⎢ Part 2 — @simpforcrimeshows Missed Breakfast ⎢ Part 2 ⎢ Part 3 ⎢ Part 4 ⎢ Part 5 — @simpforcrimeshows Behave — @simpforcrimeshows Hoodie Thief — @fanf1ctionwrit1n Poker Consequences — @simpforcrimeshows Bathtub — @simpforcrimeshows Enough Greens — @simpforcrimeshows Cherry Lipstick — @simpforcrimeshows With All My Heart — @simpforcrimeshows Leroy Jethro Gibbs Masterlist — @floraltypes

Anthony DiNozzo

Nerves — @psychadelickate Christmas Dinner — @psychadelickate Pasta — @simpforcrimeshows

Timothy McGee

Surprise — @psychadelickate Life Changing — @psychadelickate

#lala’s fic recs #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs #anthony dinozzo #tony dinozzo #timothy mcgee #tim mcgee #ncis #x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #anthony dinozzo x reader #tony dinozzo x reader #timothy mcgee x reader #tim mcgee x reader

377 notes · View notes

platonicfanfiction · 1 year

Text

NCIS

Wait What? (F)

Winter Hospital Visits (F)

Back Together

We’re Alright

Helping Hands [TW]

#ncis x reader #gibbs x reader #tony dinozzo x reader #platonic x reader #tim mcgee x reader #platonic fanfic #ncis!reader #non binary reader

72 notes · View notes

js-a-writer · 9 months

Text

This is the rest of the tgs Part 1. of my requests page/people I write for post

(basically just the rest of the tags and a link to the requests page since I could only for like 30 tags on each post)

8 notes · View notes

thebaileybugle · 5 months

Text

Pushin

Pairing: L. Jethro Gibbs

Warning(s): None but some handsome peepaw fluff

Request: Can I please request a Gibbs x F!Reader where the reader has Pneumonia and she just can’t stop coughing and Gibbs takes care of her and is just super sweet and soft with her <3 - Anon

A/N: Everything is coming out at the same time, the break was entirely too long but here are the pieces ya'll have been waiting for

You were typing away an email to Agent Pride to wish him a very happy Mardi Gras before a coffee cup was plopped onto your desk, only the bitter smell of coffee is nowhere.

"Drink."

"Gibbs, what is-"

"Drink. The damn. Tea."

"Bossy."

"Next step is sending you home early."

"But-"

"And I'd go with ya' t'make sure you don't pass out."

"Sir-"

"Are you pushin'?"

"Oh she's pushin boss" Tony said from his office with a wide smirk.

"Shut it DiNozzo! Let's go L/N, get your jacket- leave your files and bring your tea."

You sigh, well you try to sigh but a cough interrupts it.

You're in his passenger seat, blanket from the back seat thrown over your shoulders as you sip the hot peppermint tea.

"You can drop me off and go back, don't have to stay and take care of me." Shifting a bit, you look over to your secret lover. "Tony might get some dumb idea that's accurate to the truth."

"Don't matter, I'm the one that got ya' sick anyway." Jethro shrugs, steering the wheel to turn right.

"I told you I'd be fine without the mask." You fire back with a huff.

"I shouldn't have listened, I never do anyway why would I start then." He glances over and lays a hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "'sides, promised I'd take care of you, I'm gonna hold myself to that."

"Thank you, Jet. Rule 1 part two."

"So you did, read my rules."

"Shush and drive Jet."

Gibbs drove you to his home and cooked a nice sized pot of chicken noodle soup, followed up the meal with a bath. Now, you lay between his legs, head resting on his abdomen. His hands running through your hair as a Frank Sinatra track plays in the background.

"Are you supposed to be cuddling a person with pneumonia?"

"S'not contagious, sweetheart. Let me have this moment before McGee and DiNozzo start to call."

"In that case, gimme your lips."

"Yes ma'am."

--------

Taglist: @ilovemark1951

Want to be tagged for more Gibbs? Sign up here!

Want to request something for Gibbs or another character? Fill this out!

#ncis gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #tony dinozzo #tim mcgee

355 notes · View notes

withlove-amber · 2 months

Text

Peaches and Cowboy

gibbs x reader

This does take place before Jack Sloane appears in season 15

Peaches. (Y/N) only had to thank one Leroy Jethro Gibbs for that nickname. He insists it’s because she’s so sweet and kind. But, she’s pretty sure it’s because of her perfume. He calls her that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation.

Her head was down on her desk, with paperwork covering every inch of her desk. Gibbs was growing concerned, because she was looking paler by the hour. Once Tony headed to interrogation, Ziva was checking out a lead, and Tim was getting an update from Abby, he made his way over to her desk. That’s when he smelled her perfume, peach with just a dash of vanilla. “Hey, peaches, you feelin’ okay?” Her head instantly rose from her desk, and she sleepily responded, “Yeah, just a headache the size of Texas. I’ll be alright. Just need to drink more water.” He was still concerned, but ultimately said, “Okay, let me know if you need anything.” “Will do, hun.”

The day went by and by the end of it, she was very excited to go home, make some soup, and crawl into a warm bed. Gibbs had the same idea, but because he was still concerned, he offered to drive her home. She was hesitant at first, saying she didn’t want to be a bother. But he insisted. And she damn near fell asleep during the ride home. She was so out of it, she didn’t even notice that it wasn’t her house. It was Gibbs’ house. Fair enough, they only live a street away from each other. She only noticed something was different when the front table was in a different spot than it was in her house. He led her to the couch, and told her to make herself comfortable. As she did, he disappeared into the kitchen. He reappeared a few moments later with two bowls of soup, water for her, and a beer for him. She felt a little bad that her friend was taking care of her, but ultimately felt so grateful that he cared enough about her to do so.

They ate in comfortable silence, and after finishing her soup, she started feeling incredibly exhausted. To no shock, he noticed that she was starting to fade. He took the dishes back into the kitchen, and when he returned to the living room, found her half asleep, curled up on the sofa. He gently pushed her hair away from her face, and gently laid a blanket on top of her. He whispered, “Goodnight, peaches.” She responded with a half-hearted mumble that sounded similar to, “Goodnight Jethro.” And with that, she fell into a very blissful sleep, where she dreamt of a very familiar silver-haired, steely-blue eyed man.

Cowboy. Gibbs only had (Y/N) to thank for that nickname. She calls him that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation. It was a slow day, the team didn’t have a case, so they took the day to catch up on paperwork. Sometime in the afternoon, they all took a break (minus one silver-haired boss), and took turns guessing what their favorite movie genres were. Lastly, it was (Y/N)’s turn. She correctly guessed that Ziva hasn’t watched a lot of movies, Tim’s favorite is action-fantasy, and that Tony’s was classic films. But Gibbs, she had a hard time figuring his out. But ultimately, she correctly guessed he likes westerns. Specifically, black and white westerns. “Yeah I see it, cowboy. It fits.” And with that, that’s how he became “cowboy”. Just with an afternoon distraction from the mind-numbing paperwork they had all been busy with all day. The rest of the day went by in a blur. They all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways for the night. Sometime in the evening, (Y/N) found herself in Gibbs’ basement, drinking bourbon out of an old glass, talking with not her boss, but her friend.

“Why’d ya guess I like westerns?” “Because, you have this air of authority about you, your house is bare besides furniture, you have an old TV, and you build boats in your basement. Plus, at night, you smell like bourbon.” “Wow.” “Yeah… it’s one of my favorite things about you.” “What is?” “Everything. It’s just so you.” He leaned over and wrapped her in a hug. She swiftly accepted his hug, and held him tight. They spent the rest of the night laughing and talking about anything and everything. Not a lot of people know, but Gibbs can be very talkative with the right person. He also smiles his beautiful, soft smile quite a lot. But only when he’s with her. Only when he’s with his “peaches”. And when she’s with her “cowboy”, the sun will never be able to outshine her smile.

#ncis #gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #tony dinozzo #ziva david #tim mcgee #abby sciuto

120 notes · View notes

slutforsilverfoxes · 1 year

Text

McGirlfriend

[A/N: in my defense, I did say I was becoming a DiNozzo simp 🙃]

—————

Ziva wadded up an old draft of a report that she was about to shred, opting instead to beam it at Tony’s forehead to gain his attention. The grin on his face melted away as his eyes narrowed in her direction, and he barked out a playful, “What?”

“What is it that you are smiling at over there?”

“A text.”

“From?”

“A friend.”

“Not just a friend,” Abby chimed in from her spot at McGee’s desk, propping her chin on her hands as she batted her eyelashes in Tony’s direction.

“Oh?” That piqued Tim’s interest, and he pulled his attention away from the screen where he was testing a new program to optimize one of Abby’s many search parameters. “Are you seeing someone, Tony?”

“Yeah, McProbie,” the senior agent grinned, brewing up a facetious response. “Your sister.”

Rolling his eyes, McGee shot back, “You wish. She’s too smart for you.”

“Children!” Gibbs barked as he rounded the corner. The three agents scrambled to appear busy, shuffling papers around and clamoring over one another with updates on their supposed productivity this morning. Silencing them all with a mere glance, Gibbs continued, “If you’re done dishing about your social lives, we’ve got a dead Marine in Rock Creek Park.”

—————————

“I do not believe that you have a girlfriend,” Ziva stated matter-of-factly, pulling open the van doors to gather the crime scene kit.

“Well, believe it, Zi-va,” Tony retorted, the two syllables popping off his tongue in that infuriating way only he could do, “because it’s true. Here, watch my eyeballs when I say it: I have a girlfriend. What does your Mossad training tell you about that statement, huh?”

“That you are telling the truth,” she huffed back, eyes narrowed. “But if that is the case then how are you not gloating about your sex escapes all the time?”

“Sexcapades,” DiNozzo corrected automatically.

“Whatever. Why not?”

Tony shrugged, trying to control the blush threatening to creep across his cheeks. “Because.”

McGee unzipped the camera bag and slung the device around his neck as he caught the senior field agent’s eye with a teasing grin. “Because he really likes her! Tony’s in love.”

“Shut it, McGoob,” Tony growled out, slamming the van doors shut and stalking off to find Gibbs at the primary crime scene.

“Look at that, Ziva,” Tim sighed dramatically as they watched their colleague walk away, “our boy’s all grown up.”

—————————

“How was your day today, babe?” You flipped back to the diagram on venous circulation in your anatomy textbook, wiggling your fingers in an invitation for your boyfriend to join you on his bed. He heaved a dramatic sigh before stretching out across the comforter, laying his head against your thigh. “Don’t ask.”

Your fingers automatically went to brush through his short hair, freshly wet from his post-work shower. “Tough case?”

“What’d I just say?” he teased, reaching up to tweak your nose and eliciting a sheepish giggle from you. “It’s not the case, it’s my colleagues. They found out about you today and now they’re probing for more.”

“So tell them,” you offered easily. “My friends at school know about you.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice grew a touch huskier and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah,” you whispered. “I tell them all about your big, thick d…ura mater. For that big ol’ brain of yours.”

He groaned your name in frustration and you laughed, pleased with yourself, until his eyes shot open and you saw that green had faded to black. You held your book up in defense and tried to quell your now racing heart. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I have to study! I swear- don’t you even-”

He shut you up with a gentle kiss that quickly turned more desperate. Taking the textbook from your hands, he set it on the bedside table and tugged your shirt off before molding his lips back to yours, mumbling, “You need to study anatomy? Let’s get you some hands on experience.”

—————————

Tony strutted into the bullpen the next morning, greeting his teammate with an uncharacteristic smile given the fact that the sun had yet to rise. “McProbius. How was your night?”

Tim’s face twisted into one of confusion as he answered, “Uh, fine. Uneventful. How was yours?”

“Why, thank you for asking,” Tony grinned despite intentionally prompting the exchange. “My night was absolutely incredible.”

Ziva dropped her coat on the back of her chair and smirked knowingly at DiNozzo. Crossing her arms, she stated, “You had sex. Good sex, I am guessing, from the way you are gloating right now.”

“Not just good,” Tony clarified. “Amazing. Mind blowing. Since you two are so interested, my girlfriend’s a med student-”

“Hey, so is my little sister!” McGee cut in excitedly. “At Georgetown?”

“Yes, now hush. Anyway, when I tell you that she knows her way around male anatomy which is truly a testament to just how hard she studies. So diligent. Doctors are amazing, and we should appreciate them more.”

Tim and Ziva exchanged curious looks, then turned to see the reason behind the sudden shift in conversation standing behind them. A chorus of greetings- slightly too loud- poured from the three agents’ mouths as they all but ran to their desks to continue working on their current case.

—————————

“His desk is right over there,” the security guard gestured in the general vicinity, and you thanked her with a smile before making your way through the bullpen bustling with midday activity.

An older man in a tan suit approached as you neared the section the guard had pointed out, a soft smile on his face despite the gruffness in his voice. “Can I help you?”

“She’s here for me,” two voices in unison confidently rang out, and you peeked around the man you assumed to be Gibbs to find the source of the sound.

“Easy, McGeek,” Tony chuckled as he rose from his desk. “Unless she’s the suspect you’ve been theorizing about all day, I’ll take it from here.”

“Uh, I think you should take it easy considering you have a girlfriend, Tony,” Tim shot back, brows furrowed. “She’s my sister.”

“But that’s- she’s-” Tony stumbled over his words while Ziva leaned back in her chair, laughing to herself as she connected the dots with a giddily mumbled, “This is the best day ever.”

Both men pointed accusatory fingers at you, fighting to be heard.

“You said you were studying last night!” “Your last name isn’t McGee!”

“Woah,” you held up your hands in defense, trying to calm the situation. “I was studying last night,” you directed the response to your older brother, then turned to your boyfriend, “and we have two different dads. How come you two have never mentioned each other?”

“He is Probie,” Tony clarified, as Tim mumbled, “He’s DoucheNozzle.”

“Hey!” you and Tony cried out.

“Hey!” Gibbs mocked you all, jingling a set of car keys in the middle of your heated circle. “Boyfriend and brother, go pick up our suspect. Figure this out when I have my killer behind bars.”

Sufficiently chastened, they each pressed a kiss to one of your cheeks while glowering over your head at the other man. As they made their way over to the elevator- clearly bickering from the looks of it- Ziva approached you gleefully. “They will either bond over their love for you in that car, or you will end up single and an only child. Also, hi, Ziva David.”

“Y/N,” you supplied in kind, taking her proffered hand.

“What inspired this visit, anyway?”

“Oh,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I came to tell them I passed my anatomy exam with flying colors.”

#anthony dinozzo #anthony dinozzo x reader #tony dinozzo #tony dinozzo x reader #timothy mcgee #Timothy McGee x sister!reader #tim mcgee #tim McGee x sister!reader #established relationship #ncis #ncis imagine #ncis fanfiction #tony dinozzo imagine #anthony dinozzo imagine #tony dinozzo x you #tony dinozzo x y/n #anthony dinozzo x you #anthony dinozzo x y/n

946 notes · View notes

instantnoooodles · 1 year

Text

A Driving Force

An ancient ask from an old friend, it came to me in a dream. Viola.

Gibbs x Reader | No use of [Y/n] | 3.2 k | Mentions of Childbirth, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of sex, fluff with little to no angst

Pregnancy has got you ready to throttle your husband.

Nearly eight months pregnant, and you are going to kill someone.

Someone's name is Jethro.

Jethro, who- after your first baby- thought it would be a swell idea to have another (don't get me wrong, he is more than good at making them, it's the labor and the first trimester that does you in.) Jethro, who is at work and not at home making you tea or rubbing your calves, or doing literally anything other than being at work. It's driving you nuts, and your son may as well be training for the baby Olympics. There's no reprieve, not with a heating pad, not with an exercise ball, not with the piss-poor excuse for a nap you'd tried to take, nothing.

So you do what anyone would've done: You drive your ass to his work and give the security guards some vaguely veiled threats to let you up to the bullpen.

And naturally, he's nowhere to be found.

"I am going to kill that man," you grumble, reclining in his chair, leaning your head back, and closing your eyes. Ironically enough, the background noise helps- you feel more relaxed than at home.

The elevator dings, and in comes the trio. (McGee- you assume- is down in the lab. Jethro says he prefers it to fieldwork some days.) And- naturally- they're yelling.

"I had him!"

"You had shit! That dude outran you by miles! He's halfway to Timbuktu right now!"

"Dinozzo-"

"Boss, I am telling you-"

"Dinozzo."

They stop in the bullpen, and you stand, hand over your stomach, and downright glower at your husband. "Leroy."

Tony's face crumples into something like horror, Kate looks like a bomb might go off, and Jet- well, he looks a little south of terrified. As he should.

"Sweetheart," He walks toward you, hands outstretched, and immediately goes in for a gentle peck on the cheek. You swat him away. He frowns comically.

"Your son is driving me up a wall."

"You shouldn't be driving like this," he reaches down and caresses the bump. Damn him and his soft voice. Usually, you only hear it in the comfort of your home, never at work, and maybe that's what melts your resolve of putting up a fight.

You sigh, slouching into him and leaning your head into the crook of his neck. He takes it all in stride, cupping his hand on the back of your head, drawing circles with his thumb on that place where the base of your skull meets your neck. It makes you fall apart like a card tower. You groan- he has the decency not to laugh, just winds his other arm around your waist. "Is he giving you a hard time?" It's asked softly, gently, kindly, with all the warmth of a roaring fire and the bourbon in the basement. This is the Jet that makes you question if he's really an agent.

"He's been kicking my bladder for hours," you groan into his shirt. It smells like sawdust and mint. "You'd think he's training for boot camp in there."

Jethro rubs gently at your waist- Tony and Kate sit quietly at their desks and have the decency to stop arguing. Tony even takes a field trip to God knows where- it makes you smile. "Better or worse than Dani?"

Dani is your nearly five-year-old. A bundle of joy and Jethro's entire world, she has a smile to light up a room.

And a temper to rival Hell, she gets it from her dad, but he handles her well.

You scoff. "Dani didn't take up gymnastics, and if I recall correctly, you missed the first eight hours of my labor."

"Twenty more to go- didn't miss much." You smack him gently on the back, and he only chuckles and continues to rub the muscles of your hips and neck. "You damn near broke my hand."

"Twenty-eight hours of labor, Jethro. You're lucky I didn't break every bone in your body and shoot you." He mumbles something like 'touche', and you stand in silence for a moment. Jet quietly says 'here' and untangles himself from you (you nearly kill him) until he spins around. Facing your back and winding his arms around to your stomach, he reaches underneath your bump, intertwines his fingers, and lifts.

You come this close to moaning in the middle of NCIS headquarters.

Jet started doing this sometime towards the end of the second trimester when your bump became less of that and more like a mound. (These days, it feels more like a mountain.) The muscles in your abdomen relax, and the relief is instantaneous. Your head lols back onto his shoulder, and you kiss the underside of his jaw. "Thank you."

It comes out in a whisper, but he gets the idea and returns the gesture to your forehead. "'Course sweetheart," And then you just stand there. It could be hours- it could be seconds. Realistically, it was probably closer to ten minutes. Jethro is strong, despite his age and his appearance. If you asked him he could probably do this for another hour and then some. Come to think- he'd do anything you asked him to. And you'd do the same, quite frankly, but right now- right now this is plenty.

Jethro releases the weight of your baby boy slowly, oh-so-gently and it nearly makes you sob (damn pregnancy hormones) and hugs you from the side, careful not to undo the release he's just given you. You peck his cheek, leaning into the embrace, and close your eyes.

And then water splashes down your leg, down your pants, and onto a puddle in the NCIS bullpen.

Motherfucker.

Echoed both in your head and out loud by your husband, Tony chooses this perfect moment to come barreling into the room. "Boss, we got something- oh shit."

"Dinozzo, go get my car," and Jet hurls the keys at Tony's head. Tony, with all his goofiness and jokes, makes none about the situation and beelines for the staircase, Kate hot on his heels.

Contraction number one hits with full speed, nearly taking you to your knees, and Jet hugs you around your waist, keeping you from collapsing and yanking the phone from his back pocket. "If the nurse doesn't give me an epidural this time, you have my full permission to shoot them."

"Yes ma'am," he says, throwing the phone onto his desk. You don't see what he's done with it, you're too busy trying to stand.

The contraction fades, you rise, and Jethro rises with you. "You're early."

"Dani was three weeks early," you breathe deeply through your nose and out through your mouth.

"This is nearly four."

"Well, then, Jet, get a damn move on." And move he does. He makes sure you're standing steady first, before flying behind his desk to grab a bag. You do a double take. "You keep the hospital bag in your office?"

He gives you a quick peck on the cheek, slinging the bag over his shoulder and guiding you toward the elevator. "Been with me for two months now, sweetheart."

You're going to sob.

Jet's gentle hand on your elbow and back gets you both to the elevator in one piece. An agent- you don't know who- is standing there as the doors ding open. Jethro gives him a look that could freeze over hell as he turns around to ask what floor, and the mystery agent steps out.

You poke the 'G' button as another contraction punches through you. Jet gets you to lean against the cool metal wall as the elevator begins to move, and you grip his forearm tight. You're not swearing, not yet, just breathing deeply, but at this rate, you'll be calling the doctor a fuckwad the minute you walk through the hospital doors.

Tony and Kate (bless their hearts) have the car running right out of the elevator in the parking garage. Tony reaches for your arm to help you in but a sharp, "Hands off my wife, DiNozzo!" Stops him dead in his tracks. Kate steps in as Jet throws the bag in the backseat. He opens the passenger door while Kate leads you.

"You're gonna do great, call us when the baby's here, and we'll handle the case, Gibbs." The last part is directed toward your husband, who takes your other forearm as you sit gingerly in the car.

He drives like Jethro. Which is to say: Like a maniac.

You don't complain, even if it feels like you're in the middle of a police chase. He cuts the fifteen-minute drive to the hospital in half, skidding to a halt in front of the maternity wing, and barely remembers to turn off the car before reaching behind him to snag the bag and half-carry you to the doors. You can hardly blink before they've got you in a room, changed into a hospital gown, and are telling you to push.

Mike Leroy Gibbs' labor clocks in at a whopping two hours.

It's a very painful two hours. Jet may have threatened several doctors and nurses to give you an epidural (who complies, you don't know the details and you don't want to.) They whisk him away to check vitals and clean him up, though Jet also threatens to maim or seriously injure someone if Mike isn't in your arms in fifteen minutes.

He's returned rather quickly (you have a feeling you'll have to do damage control when you give a shit.) And he is the cutest bundle of warm brown hair and the brightest blue eyes you ever did see.

You don't let Jethro hold him for something close to an hour, you damn near fall asleep with him on your chest for a little while, but with a soft, "Jet, look at your son." He takes him

Jethro is pretty quiet while he holds him- he was the same with Dani, awestruck by her existence and speechless. He coos at Mike, who's fast asleep, and sways him gently back and forth. He sits down, the armchair pulled as close to your hospital bed as it can get, with one hand cradling your son and the other holding your hand, rubbing gentle circles on the meat of your thumb.

(You crushed his forearm during labor. Not literally, Jethro is still injury free, but there will be bruises in a few days. He knows how sore you are though, and if he wasn't occupied with his new son, you'd be sure he'd be giving you a massage. He was just as good- if not miles better- than when you gave birth to Dani. He was on a case, deep cover, and didn't get the phone call from Ducky or the hospital until you were well into labor. Ducky's phone call was far more urgent- Gibbs drove at least forty over to get to you.)

"Jet, I gotta call Donovan, he still has two more days with Dani-"

"Already taken care of sweetheart."

You're going to melt. Absolutely dissolve into a pile of lovey-dovey goo. "Thank you."

He brings your hand to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles. "He's on his way, your brother drives slower than I do-"

"Jethro, everyone drives slower than you."

The corner of his lips twitch upward at that, and he doesn't argue.

The room is... nice. It's the only way to describe it. You feed Mike, and Jet is respectful and goes to find you OJ while you do it. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable, hun. Figured you could just use some time with him, skin to skin."

Yeah, you're gonna cry.

You actually do, while he's away and Mike has finished. It's not sad tears, they're definitely happy. When Jethro comes back he seems to know it, you don't even have to say anything, he just sits on the side of the bed, curls an arm behind your shoulders, and pets your hair. There are kisses laid atop your head, and he rubs your bicep. He whispers in his soft voice, the one you're so used to hearing that when you visit him at work his 'Boss' tone makes you do a double take. (Is it hot? Absolutely. But there's nothing quite like the quiet tone he uses when he asks if you're ready for bed.)

You sniffle, Mike shifts in your arms as Jethro wipes a tear and a series of gentle knocks at the door sound through your hospital room. One, two, three, four, five, heads poke through the sliver in the open door. "Boss? Can we come in?"

Gibbs looks to you for permission before answering. You nod and smile softly, and he beckons to the agents. Abby and Kate file in first, closely followed by Tim, then Ducky, who holds the door open for Tony, who's carrying two huge plastic bags filled with something that smells magical.

Abby gives you the first hug, careful to avoid your newborn, she wraps an arm around your shoulder while Jethro untangles himself from you to help Tony. ("Did ya buy enough for the whole wing, Dinozzo?")

Kate comes in next, taking Abby's place with a hug around your shoulder. You share grins, and she asks you how the labor was- the conversation is easy and nice. (Everyone knows how bad Dani's labor was. You've come into the office a few times a month, usually with coffee or breakfast, or-hell, even dinner for your husband and his crew when the nights turn long. You used to come in once a week during the first trimester. You and Gibbs would be in the NCIS bathroom with your head in a toilet, hair held back, and circles rubbed on your shoulders. Those were rough days.)

"Do you wanna hold him?"

Kate looks a little dumbstruck. Ducky and Tim are giving her encouraging glances, grinning ear to ear. "Y-you're sure?"

You smile up at her, readjust, and hold Mike out. "Make sure to support his head, arm under his neck, keep the blanket- there you go." Kate kinda giggles- a breathy laugh escapes as she turns toward Gibbs and grins wide. He smiles back- then wider to you- and winks. To this day, it still gives you butterflies.

Kate moves around the room- pacing in circles, bounces your son in the crook of her elbow, and quietly talks with Ducky. Tim comes in for a small hug. "Congrats, Mrs. Gibbs. You feel alright?"

You scoff and pull him in with both arms. "I'm exhausted- I think Jet threatened someone for an epidural."

You give him a peck on the cheek as he steps back, unfolding himself. Tim blushes pink and smiles. "Anything I can do? Food? Clothes?" You nearly start crying again. "I make a mean quiche, waffles too- Abby's can vouch for me-"

You laugh (Jethro's eyes light up at the sound, Tony notices.) "That sounds wonderful, Tim. Thank you, I mean it."

He smiles, genuine, and you get the feeling sometimes Tony and Kate are a little hard on him. Then you remember how they rallied when he was in the hospital from a gunshot wound, and all those thoughts fade away.

"McGee! Get over here!" Tony yells from across the room, gesturing with a plastic knife.

Kate comes over to hand back Mike, but you gesture to Ducky. "Go ahead, Duck. I'm sure you've had your fair share of holding babies, don't make me lecture you."

Ducky smile kindly (everyone seems to be smiling lately, and as cheesy as it sounds, it makes you happy. The my-heart-hurts-with-happiness way. You think the work is thankful, but even that seems too small of a word for what you feel.) Kate hands Mike over, carefully, slowly- his head fits neatly into the palm of her hand, where it waits until Ducky re-settles the blanket over him.

Duckys' a natural- he sways with Mike and regals him with PG versions of his cases. Mike, sleepy and half-conscious, wiggles out of the blanket and wraps one of his teeny-tiny hands around the doctor's fingers. Abby and Kate coo and fold the blanket back over your son. They wiggle their own fingers at him, but Mike stays sound asleep, shifting minutely in Ducky's arms.

Tony comes in next for a one-armed, light hug. (You suspect Jet is behind that- you pull him in all the same. )

"Gibbs mentioned you were hungry," he gestures to the small table ladened with takeout boxes. "Said you were craving pasta."

You pull him back for another, tighter hug, gifting him with a peck on the cheek too, "Thank you, Tony, that's really sweet of you."

He blushes lightly, with a smug sort of look on his face. "You guys can keep the leftovers- McGee's idea."

You give his hand a squeeze instead of words, but he seems to get the idea, winking and holding up your shoulders while you sit up as Jet brings a plate over. He doesn't chastise Tony for his hand placement or the still-visible blush painted across his neck and cheeks, but you're more focused on the heavenly-smelling, rich, and sauce-loaded noodles being presented to you.

You groan. "You are a saint, hun. Thank you." You grab the plate and fork with eager hands. Tony laughs and meanders off to grab a plate of his own while Jet sits on the side of your bed. He's got his own plate- carefully portioned and balanced on one knee as he catches a noodle falling off your fork and nearly onto the sheets.

"Thanks," you reply with a mouthful, but it comes out more like a grunt. Jet gets the message anyway, smiling down at you. You're more at an even height now that you're sitting up, and you watch cheerfully as Ducky looks to you for permission to pass Mike to Abby.

Tim and Kate are chatting quietly. They look over at you and Jet once and a while. (You get the sneaky suspicion you won't have to cook or do chores in the house for months.) Tony is still ladling noodles onto his plate, and you watch as he hands a similar one to Ducky.

You didn't notice when they first entered- or maybe she was hiding it- but there's a little (not-so-little) bag sitting at Abby's feet as she takes Mike oh-so-gently from Ducky. You guess it might be something black- it'll contrast with his eyes, and you giggle internally at the thought. Abby sways over to Tony, rocking Mike in her arms- you think Tony calls him Giblet Number Two, and you roll your eyes playfully.

It hits you suddenly how happy you are, nearly knocks you breathless as you watch everyone crowd around Abby as Mike opens his eyes. This is... wonderful. You don't have words for it: you have everything you can ask for and more, and Jethro seems to read your mind (as always.) He reaches down to squeeze your free hand, looking sideways through his eyelashes. "I'm proud of you, sweetheart."

You smile tearily at him. "I know."

930 notes · View notes

rubyarrows · 4 months

Text

The Key

Tim had just wrapped up a long day at the office and he was still mentally going over the findings in his head. Every little detail of the current case the NCIS team was working on looped repeatedly in his mind. He had heard about this somewhere and he couldn’t quite place where, but it was really starting to bug him on a level he couldn’t quite comprehend.

He trudged into the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, YN, who greeted him with a warm smile. The sight made him forget some of the hellacious work of the day, if even for a moment.

“Hey there, handsome,” she greeted as she looked up from her book.

“Hey there yourself,” he replied.

“Long day?” she questioned. To which her boyfriend replied with just a simple nod as he placed his bag down on the unoccupied chair off to the side. “I can see it on your face. Dragging case?”

“You have no idea.” Tim said as he planted himself on the couch right beside her.

YNN instinctively moved closer to him and cuddled into his side as McGee placed his arm around her. “Care to share?” she asked. “Well, the little you can at least.”

Tim thought about it for a moment, knowing his girlfriend would probably be able to give some unbiased insight as she normally did in a situation such as the one they were in. So, he gave her all the details he was allowed to share with her, which granted wasn’t a lot but usually that was enough for her to give him and the team enough of a nudge in the right direction. So, he decided to give you the bit of information he could, hoping that it would be enough for his knowledgeable girl to help with.

But as he explained everything, Tim noticed how YN’s face changed. It wasn’t the normal in thought look she would often get during these types of conversations but more of a look of fear. Something within his words flipped a switch in her mind, putting her into panic mode and he had not even the faintest idea of what it could've been, but he could see it just by the slightest look on her face.

So, he paused for a moment and looked at her with concerned eyes. “YNN? What is it?” He questioned and sat up slightly taking her with him.

YN took a deep breath before responding. “I know that signature.”

“What do you mean you know the signature? What signature?” he questioned with a genuine look of confusion in his eyes as she finally looked up at him to see it.

“You said the Ducky found an antique key shoved down your victim’s throat, yes?” she questioned, and Tim could only nod. “Well, so did the medical examiner that did Darren’s autopsy.”

McGee’s eyes widened at the realization. “They never caught the guy, did they?” he asked, knowing the answer already. Tim had gone over the details of her brother’s murder with her and Gibbs, Vance even, several times and the fact that he didn’t catch the one dollop of securing fact within the current case they were working and Darren’s had jarred him.

“No.” Chy said as she shook her head and it almost seemed like she was fading into her own little world.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” He could see the panic arise in her eyes.

“There is no way it’s just a coincidence that I traveled from Texas to DC in order to get away from it all and then a year later, there’s another murder like that of Darren’s around the same area that I now live in…” she trailed her thoughts consuming her and Tim took quick notice of the way her breathing had now become labored. “Oh god…” she looked over at her boyfriend in pure horror. "He's coming after me Tim.”

Her whole body shook as McGee pulled her into his hold, her panic escalating into a full-blown panic attack. Though he feared the same, it was his job as her boyfriend to comfort her and protect her. He held her close to him, running a gentle hand down her back to try and sooth her in any way he could while softly speaking to her in reassuring tones.

“Hear my heart? Just focus on that, okay?” he whispered, his tone a calming melody amidst the storm raging through her mind at that moment. “I promise you, YNN, that you are safe with me.” he vowed, his voice unwavering in an attempt to convince not only her but also himself. “We’ll catch him. I won't let anything happen to you.”

Gradually, her breaths steadied, the panic subsiding under the warmth of Tim’s embrace. She clung to him, finding the solace she needed in his hold and in his promise.

#ruby arrows #ruby arrows imagines #ncis #ncis x reader #ncis imagine #ncis fanfiction #timothy mcgee #timothy mcgee x reader #timothy mcgee imagine #timothy mcgee imagines #timothy mcgee fanfiction #tim mcgee #tim mcgee imagines #tim mcgee fanfiction #tim mcgee imgine

83 notes · View notes

chiefdirector · 7 months

Text

Human Shield | Tim McGee | NCIS

No 8 (alt 14): human shield

It happened so quickly, Tim didn’t have time to turn around let alone react or defend himself. He was so absorbed with tracking the lost Navy lieutenant that he hadn’t noticed that the M.T.A.C doors hadn’t fully shut, and he certainly didn’t notice the all too familiar face slip in behind him.

His training had taught him to be aware of his surroundings at all times, and yet he had failed. The most wanted man in the country was lying dead in front of him, bullets lodged in his chest, but more importantly, so was (Y/N).

The piercing sounds of firearms shooting had alerted him to invader but by then the bullets had been fired. It was clear from where his body fell that the perpetrator wanted Tim dead. Maybe he was getting close to busting his operation, or discovering something he wanted hidden; he would never know now.

He could also tell from the way that (Y/N)’s body fell that she had died protecting him. Her reflexes were sharp enough that she could dive in between Tim and the shooter, taking the shrapnel intended for him, whilst also firing her own shot. The observation of this took him a fraction of a second but the ramifications and the realisations of what she had done for him, what she had given up for him took days to set in.

Tim had loved her with all of his being. He didn't know that he could love like that. It was almost ethereal. In his eyes she lit thw sun and hung the stars in the sky. She was the reason that he had so much faith in the world; if she could find the good in something than maybe, just maybe, there would be good in the word for him any anybody else.

But despite how much he loved her, he knew that she would never go for a guy like him. She was pretty, and popular, and kind; girls like that never went for him. Tony, yes. Tim had long accepted that fact, he was happy to love her from a distance. He acknowledged her flirting as friendly and not recurred. Tony and Ziva often teased them about their relationship but Tim defended it as strictly platonic.

He wished he had told her how he felt. Watching her die for him broke his heart, there was nothing that he could do for her at that point. IT was a quick death, merciful even. It still ripped him apart inside. The salt in the wound was that now he could never tell her how he felt. She died thinking that he biggest admirer and the person that arguably loved her most thought of her as another face, another friend.

She would never know the love and companionship that Tim had to offer, and now Tim would never be able to give it to her either. He didnt know if he would ever feel love for anyone else as intensely as he did for her, but he didn't allow himself to ponder that for long. For now he would grieve, then he would move on.

Eventually.

Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist

@ailesswhumptober @happygirl-0408

#tim mcgee x reader #timothy mcgee x reader #tim mcgee imagine #ncis x reader #chiefdirector #ncis imagine #ncis #ncis cbs

68 notes · View notes

writeandsurvive · 9 months

Text

Caught in a Snow Storm ~ Alden Parker 1/2

Summary: After a work road trip, you and Alden have to stop at a hotel cause the roads are being closed and there’s only one room left.

Warnings: one bed, heater goes out, smut, age gap, smoking, handjob, oral (f receiving).

Words count: 5.2k

Author’s note: yes, despite being summer, I’m writing winter fics. I couldn’t shake this idea off my head so I finally wrote it down. Second part coming soon! Special mention to Supernatural in this work because 18 years later, I finally fell into the rabbit hole. I hope you’ll like it! ❤️

None of this was planned. Nothing happened the way it should have. The whole trip was a major waste of time, giving you zero info for your murder case and even less a lead. On top of that, a huge snow storm hit, blocking the roads and you had to stop at the first hotel you found. You usually love the snow, you find it beautiful when it’s all white outside. But this time, it was just the cherry on the cake. “Do you have everything you need for a sleepover?” You did this trip with your team leader, Alden Parker. You didn’t want to go in the first place.

The idea of being stuck in a car for almost three hours with your crush didn’t sound appealing. Not that you mind being with him, you actually love his company, love talking to him about all kinds of things, love his face when he smiles, or how his eyes are soft whenever he looks at you. You love how his mustache is dark while the rest of his beard - and hair - keeps getting whiter. But you still didn’t want to, because of what happened the week before.

Despite being cold outside, the sky was clear blue and the sun was out. You love this exact kind of weather, and ever since you found out about the roof, you enjoy going up for a break, taking some deep breaths, having a smoke and just appreciate the quiet. And that was exactly what you did. Smelling the nice scent coming from the bakery down the street, a cigarette in hand, you relaxed. You even took a couple of pictures of this nice view.

“You know,” you jumped for a second at the sound of his voice straddling you. He chuckled at your reaction. “Ever since I joined, I’ve been wondering where your secret smoking spot is.” He got closer to the ledge, taking in the view. You tried not to stare too much.

“Did you follow me here, Parker?” You puffed on your cigarette.

“Just a little at the time. Nice spot. But the cigarette—“

“I know, I don’t need the lecture. I’m not a heavy smoker, you know.” You stayed a few steps away from him, not wanting to overwhelm him with the bad smell of nicotine.

“Just when you’re overwhelmed or want to relax.”

You didn’t know what to think about the fact that he noticed all of this. And was intrigued enough that he found your secret spot. You felt all giddy, but buried it deep inside you.

“After sex, too.” As soon as it left your lips, you regretted it. Where was this coming from? Technically, it is true, you enjoy a smoke after sex, but it wasn’t something Alden Parker needed to know. You felt so horrified that you stopped looking at the man and just focused on the view and your cigarette that was coming to an end. You would probably need another one. “I shouldn’t have said that.” You managed to say.

“Yeah,” he agreed and you felt even worse. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how bad it is for you, cause I know how annoying that is—I’ve been there.” You looked at him, forgetting your embarrassment for a second. “Just that if and when you decide to try to stop, I’ll be happy to help.”

“H—how did you stop?”

“That’s actually one of the good things that came out of my marriage with Vivian. She really wanted me to stop, so we came to an agreement that everytime I needed to smoke, I’d reach out to her. I’d call if we weren’t together, or just tell her if we were, and she’d do her best to take my mind off it.”

“And it really worked?”

“After a while, yeah. It did. But also because I wanted to stop. If you don’t have that in the first place, no matter what you do, it won’t work.”

“I’ll— think about it. Thank you for offering your help.”

Your cigarette was long gone, and you put the bottom away in a little ashtray you hid.

“We’re a team.” He smiled at you. That damn smile that makes you want to reach for him and kiss him until you can’t breathe.

You went back to the bullpen together. “I do miss a good cigarette after sex though.” He just said before you left the roof.

Maybe you spent the entire week overthinking this. He obviously didn’t mind what you said, but you still felt horrified by it. Why would you say something like that to him? Clearly, he knew what that feeling was like, but it still wasn’t worth mentioning. He did agree when you said you shouldn’t have said it though. Did it make him uncomfortable? He probably doesn’t want to know anything about his coworkers sex life.

Not that you had any lately.

When you finally reached a hotel, you thought it would be it. You couldn’t wait to get into your room, lay down and relax. Probably go back down later to smoke. The ride itself wasn’t bad at all. Alden was his usual self, you two talked about many stuff in the car, some were work related and some weren’t. At some point, it felt like he was trying to know you better than he already did. After all, you’ve been working together for just a year, and it’s not like you two spend a lot of alone time together.

“I’m sorry we’re booked.” The receptionist started to say, and you sighed heavily. “Lots of people decided to stop when they announced the storm coming up. All we have left is a suite.” You and Alden looked at each other.

“It’s either that or the car.” He said.

“Fine. But accounting better not give us hell for that.”

“Is this a work trip?” The lady asked, surprising both of you.

“Yeah, why?” Alden asked.

“Because that suite—only has one bed.”

“Fuck me.” You muttered a bit too loud. But Alden agreed for the room.

“We’re adults.” He said in the elevator. “We’ll build a pillow wall if it makes you feel better.”

“Sure. Adults and pillow walls really fit together.” You rolled your eyes. Alden chuckled.

“Have you ever slept in the same bed as a friend or something?”

“Yeah, of course. But it’s different.”

The elevator’s doors opened and Alden walked out first. “If it really grosses you out to share a bed with me, I’ll sleep on the floor, Y/N.”

You usually love when he says your name, but not this time. You could tell by his tone that you upset him. Hurt him, maybe? But wasn’t it better that he thought something like that than know the truth? That you didn’t want to share a bed because you were scared of what it may do to you. You followed him into the suite. It was very beautiful, spacious, and kinda—romantic. Not helping.

“That’s not what I meant, Alden.” He put his backpack down.

“I saw a little store down the street, I’m gonna go buy a few things.” He walked past you to reach for the door again. “Do you need anything?” He still asked.

“A pack of cigarettes?” You heard his quiet growl.

“I was thinking more like some food? Hygiene products? PJs?”

“Do you really think they are selling PJs in that mini store?”

“I’m hoping. Sleeping on the floor is one thing, but sleeping on the floor in my suit? I’d rather not.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” You told him.

“Are you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah right.”

You knew he wanted to ask you why it was different with him. Why did you seem so repulsed by the idea of sharing a bed?

“I’ve got everything I need, thanks.”

Alden nodded and left.

This would be alright, yes? It was just one night. The bed was big enough for you two, you wouldn’t need a pillow wall. You just hoped his scent wouldn’t drive you crazy, that his body heat wouldn’t warm your insides.

While Alden was gone, you called McGee to give them updates - not that you had much - and listen to theirs. You exchanged a few theories about the case. And finally told him that you’ve found a hotel to spend the night. “Where’s Parker?”

“He needed a few things for a store downstairs. How are the roads in DC?”

“Not too bad yet, but we’re all heading back home before we have to sleep in the office.”

“Lucky you.”

“Be safe and stay warm.”

“Not too warm though.” You overheard Nick. The team knew about your crush on Alden. They all figured you out little by little.

“Tell him he’s a dead man.”

“She’s going to kill you.” Tim said to Nick, laughing.

“Love you too!” Nick shouted.

You were still working on your computer when Alden came back from his little trip. You immediately noticed the snow all over his dark coat, his hair was wet, and he looked absolutely frozen. “It’s getting bad.” You stood up to take a quick look through the window. Everything was covered in snow and the night was dropping. “The store owner told me that a neighborhood close by lost power. We may be next.”

“Wonderful.”

As Alden took his coat and jacket off, you went to grab a towel from the bathroom and offered it to him. “For your hair.”

“Thank you.” He dried off his hair, and sat on bed to take off his wet socks. He looked at you puzzled when you extended your hand.

“It’s just socks. They need to dry.”

You disappeared in the bathroom to put them on the tower heater, while it still worked. When you came back, Alden was sitting on the bed in his white undershirt, his belt was unbuckled. You forced yourself not to stare. “We can eat downstairs but I don’t feel like moving just yet. You can if you want to be alone.”

“Not hungry for now. You should take a shower while there’s still hot water, that’ll warm you up. I put a towel on the heater.”

You could feel his eyes on you even though you had your back turned to him. “Thank you.” And he was gone to the bathroom.

This was going to be alright.

You took a look in the bags he brought back. Was this considered sneaking? He didn’t say anything about it being private, and you could see a bag of chips on top anyways. And you found mostly snacks, a bag of your favorites. There was your favorite kind of tea, and some coffee powder. And obviously, a box of pastries. You smiled at that. If Alden doesn’t find his way to pastries, pastries will find their way to him.

Then you grabbed the hotel menu, looking at what could interest you. Unlike you told Alden, you were hungry, you just didn’t want to eat alone. And you wanted to make up to him for hurting his feelings earlier.

He came back from the bathroom, wearing some night shorts, his white t-shirt and a black zipper on top. His hair was still a little wet, and messy. You’ve never seen his beautiful hair like this and you loved it even more. Alden looked so casual, and cozy, you realized this was what it’d be like to date the man. This could be one of your daily views, if only— if only.

You were on the bed, scrolling on your phone, your legs under the blanket as it was getting a bit colder. “You should go too.” He told you, and you agreed. Walking past him as he smelled fresh from the shower turned your upside down. You hurried to the bathroom and locked up. A cold shower was more needed than a hot one. You almost gave up to your urges in the shower and touched yourself, but your embarrassment afterwards would be written all over your face, and Alden could read you very easily.

You needed to smoke.

“You were looking at the menu. Do you want to order something?”

“Do you?”

You definitely noticed how Alden looked at you from head to toes, even though there was nothing to see. You were wearing an oversized hoodie that you always have with you during winter, and your work pants. “I don’t have shorts like yours or anything similar.” You answered his silent question.

“Get under the blanket and take them off. I’m staying here for now anyway.”

You did as told, because you honestly wanted those pants off. Alden stayed seated at the little table. “So, food?”

“The grilled cheese sounds good.”

“Drink? I got you some tea for later, but you already saw that.”

It was the first time since you got the room that you and Alden actually looked at each other. You could tell he was teasing you for looking into the bags, so you smiled. “My favorite. Thank you by the way.”

You gave Alden your full order and he called the reception, who informed him about the heating system issue. The room temperature was clearly dropping. You pulled on your sleeves to cover your hands, and put the hood on. “We can get an extra blanket, or hang out around their chimney.”

“I’d rather stay here for now. And get your ass under the blanket too.”

“I’m good.”

“For the love of god, Alden! I’m not grossed out by the idea of sharing a bed with you! Or anything like that for that matter.”

“No, I know. I get it. I’m your team leader, I’m quite older than you. It’s not very comfortable, like sleeping with your weird uncle or something.”

You laughed, but Alden looked serious.

“You’re definitely not the weird uncle.”

“Yeah, tell that to my nieces and nephews.”

“I’d rather trust Eli.” You smiled and he returned it. You and the team learned about Alden’s godson only recently. You’ve met his former FBI partner, Jeremy, who talked about his son Eli, and how much he loved his godfather. You had no doubt believing that Alden was a loving godfather, who took his role very seriously. And you loved that about him. “Get under the blanket, Parker.” You said again, and this time he did. He stayed very much on his side though, a huge gap between your body and his. “Plug your phone before the power goes out.” He said, plugging his own.

As you left the bed to grab your phone charger - and computer - you forgot that you had no pants on. It didn’t even occur to you when you slightly bent over to get it from your bag. It was only when you walked back to the bed, and saw how red Alden’s cheeks were that you realized. You basically jumped under the blanket, mortified. “I’m sorry! I completely forgot—sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “No worries.”

“Let’s agree that if either of us does something that makes the other uncomfortable, we can just say it. Yeah?”

“Deal.”

How could you look him in the eyes now?

Both of you on your side of the bed, focusing on your phones, the room became totally quiet. You didn’t know what was more uncomfortable, the fact that you just saw your panties, and that you’re both so ill at ease, you can’t even talk, creating this awful atmosphere.

Finally, your order came in. You obviously decided to eat on the bed, the blanket covering you as much as possible. “I can put up something on my laptop if you want.” You offered.

“Yeah, why not.”

You gave him a few options as he settled the food.

“What’s Supernatural?”

“Seriously? Dean and Sam Winchester, chasing demons and all kinds of creatures?”

“That sounds—“

“Like what we’re watching. Sit.”

And you did just that. Eat dinner in bed, covered by a comfy blanket, watching the first episode of Supernatural… with your team leader. Your crush. The guy who’s much older than you.

You didn’t know who was the most surprised by how Alden got into it. He was asking you a bunch of questions, some that you couldn’t answer without spoiling. “Just because it’s not that bad, doesn’t mean I’ll binge the whole thing. Don’t care about the spoilers.”

“I do. So, if you want to know what killed the boys’ mom, just watch it.”

Alden was leaning against the headboard, an arm behind his head. He looked even more cozy than he did earlier. You could so easily lay down on his chest, and cuddle as you watch the show. “Maybe I should go down and get that extra blanket.” He said at the end of the episode.

“I will go. I’m gonna smoke.”

“I didn’t buy you a pack.”

“Always have a few with me. Do you think you can avoid freezing to death for ten minutes?”

“You’re the one going outside. Wouldn’t you prefer to stay warm here and talk to me?” He offered. How he managed to stop smoking. “We can watch another ep, if you want.”

“You’re hooked.” You grinned.

Alden turned on his side, leaning a little closer to you. “Well it’s always nice to know how to defend myself if I ever encounter a demon.”

“Or a vampire, or a werewolf, or a rougarou.”

“What the hell is a rougarou?” He laughed.

“Binge. The. Show.” At every word, you got closer to Alden. So close your forehead almost brushed his. A little more and you could’ve kissed the man. And it obviously took both of you by surprise.

“I’ll go get the blanket. Be back in a few.” He was gone before you could say anything.

By the time he came back, you had cleared the bed from the plates and food, made sure that there were no crumbs or anything in the sheets, put his water bottle on his nightstand, and waited. The extra blanket looked fluffy and pretty warm, and Alden couldn’t wait to get under. “It’s freezing in those damn hallways.”

You grabbed the blanket from his arms and set it just right on the bed. You took your computer, settling it between your hips and Alden’s, maybe it acted as a barrier. “You’re cold.” You could feel his coldness despite the gap.

“You think?” His vest was close up to the top, and he put his hood on just like you. Without thinking further, you reached out for one of his hands. It was frozen.

“Gimme the other one.” Puzzled, he gave you his hands. You put them in the big pocket of your sweater, and covered them with yours. His hands were much bigger than yours but you didn’t care. You moved your fingers on his skin, putting a bit of pressure to get the blood flooding properly.

“Do you have another pocket for my feet?” He asked as you felt his legs getting closer.

“I swear if you put your cold feet on my legs, I’ll scream.”

In the pocket where the four hands were, you didn’t know who was trying to warm who. They were mixed together, you could feel his fingers moving against your palm and wrist. Alden chuckled, his legs got even closer.

“Parker, I have a gun.”

“So do I. And I’m a better shooter.”

“We’re 1 to 1, so no, you are not.”

You and Alden went to the shooting range a couple of times. It started with a little teasing about your aim after a case, and it turned into a competition. Whoever wins the next round has to invite the other for dinner. His idea.

Did it mean something?

“When this case is over, we’re doing the last round. I can’t wait for my free dinner.”

“Be careful. I could take you to the worst and cheapest restaurant ever.”

“In that case—“

Before you knew it, Alden’s legs were intertwined with yours. His feet were pressed against your calves, and your body got much closer to his. You let out a small scream of surprise before trying to fight him off. But his hands had left your pocket to lock you down. To be honest, with your training, you could get out of his hold but he wanted to play, so you were going to indulge. He was holding you so tight that your hands were stuck in your pocket. You tried to sneak your way out, until you both heard a thump. “Was that my laptop?” You asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“If it’s broken, you’ll explain to accounting why I need a new one.” You lifted your head to look at him. “Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

“Why’s that?”

“According to the rumors, you dated—“

“Come on. Don’t tell me you believe those rumors?”

“Well, they are around your age, some are single. And Kathy is very beautiful.”

You felt his hold loosen a little but honestly, you didn’t want him to let go of you. You wanted to stay there for as long as possible. He smelled so good, his body felt perfect against yours. Being this close to him felt—right.

“Mmm… that’s true, she is. Do you think I have a chance with her?”

You forced yourself to smile. “Of course you do. You’re clever, handsome, sweet, funny, passionate. And you have the best head of hair ever.”

He laughed at that. From where you were, you saw his throat bobbing. His Adam’s apple was so close, all you wanted was to kiss it. His laugh was the best sound you’ve heard, and it was even better when you were the reason he was laughing.

“I figured you loved my hair when a month after I joined the team, you accidentally touched it.”

“It was an accident, Alden! I was reaching for the file and your head was on the way!”

“Sure it was. I have such a big head.”

“Aldeeeen!” You whined and somehow your face buried itself in his neck. “I swear I didn’t—“

“I’m just teasing you.” He chuckled.

Realizing that you were basically cuddling the man, you were ready to move away and get some much needed distance. Especially that Alden’s released the last bit of pressure they had on you. But before you could move even just a little, his arms closed again. This time, he wasn’t locking you down. He was hugging you. Cuddling you.

“We should stay like this if we don’t want to freeze to death. Unless it makes you uncomfortable—“

“I’m good.” You immediately said. You didn’t want to move. Not now, not ever. “You’re lucky your feet are warm now.”

“Thanks to you.”

After a long moment and an internal debat, you moved your arms to hold him back. You felt his body relaxing entirely, and yours did the same. And you stayed like long enough that you both fell asleep.

Three hours later, you woke up. You and Alden were practically in the same position, except that he rolled a bit of his back, and one of his hands was dangerously close to your butt.

Your skin was damped. You were hot and sweating. Pulling the blankets just a little, you realized that the room wasn’t cold anymore. As slowly and quietly as possible, you moved out of Alden’s arms and left the bed. The heater was working very well, your hoodie wasn’t needed anymore so you got rid of it, as well as your socks. You were now in a tank top and panties, but couldn’t bring yourself to care. Especially not after what happened earlier.

You removed the extra blanket as gently as you could so Alden wouldn’t wake up. Then, you crawled back in bed, stared at his beautiful and peaceful face before slowly opening the zipper of his vest. You were halfway through it when his body moved and you felt his eyes on you. “The heating system got fixed. You should take it off.”

“You were doing a great job.” He sleepily said. You opened the vest entirely, and tried to remove it from one of his arms.

“A little help, Alden?”

Half asleep, he sat up and put his arms in the air like a toddler wanting to be undressed. You quietly laughed and undressed him, almost straddling his lap. It surprised you when he got rid of his t-shirt too before laying back down, taking you with him.

Alden was shirtless. You could feel him, you could touch his chest if you were bold enough. You wanted to turn on the lights and see his body, admire it, imprint in your brain forever. You were about to relax and just enjoy this moment, but it was when he let go of you and practically turned on the other side. “Oh” left your lips as it surprised you, confused you and kinda hurt you.

“Male body reaction.” You heard him say. “It’s better I stay on my side.”

It took you a couple of seconds to understand. “What if I don’t want you to stay on your side?” You whispered and moved closer. You didn’t know what had gotten into you at this moment. Maybe you were going to die of embarrassment, maybe you’d have to quit your job in the morning. Or maybe—

You were now spooning Alden. “Remember our agreement? If one of us does something that makes the other un—“

“Yeah.” He cut you off.

Slowly, you ran your hand from bare back to his chest. He started to breathe heavily. You loved the hair that was there. You touched his pecs, his tummy, making him growl, and reached the waistband of his shorts. You softly kissed his shoulder and Alden melted. His hand went up and down your forearm that was around him. “I need you to agree to this, Alden.” You whispered into his ear, “Don’t want to take advantage of sleepy you.” You planted a kiss under his ear.

“I’m very much awake, sweetheart.” His head leaned back into you. “You can do anything to me.”

When was the last time someone took care of this man?

Your hand finally got into his shorts. You had barely touched his length that he moaned. When your hand wrapped around his cock, you didn’t expect it to be this thick. You got even wetter than you already were. You collected his pre cum on the tip, and used it to start stroking. “Fuck!” He growled deeply. He completely leaned into you, his hand reaching for your hair, neck, face. He was needy and you loved it. You freed his cock from the shorts and stroked him slowly, putting just enough pressure. You kissed his cheek, nipped his ear. You were able to move your other arm under his head, which allowed him to touch his chest. Between the noises he was making, you could tell he wanted to talk, he wanted to say something but everything died on his tongue. “Kiss me.” Was all he could say as he turned his face and you did. All teeth and tongue, all needy and desperate. Alden was now on his back, his hips moving. You weren’t sure if you were giving him a handjob or if he was fucking your hand. That you cared.

“I’m gonna—“ he choked and growled.

You kissed his cheek and whispered to his ear again. “Cum for me, Alden. I’ve got you.” A few more sloppy strokes and he was coming all over his stomach, your name dying on his lips along curse words, his fist holding onto your hair for dear life - it stung a little but you loved it.

You watched him coming down from his high, playing with his hair. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he was catching his breath. The post orgasm bliss on his face. You kissed his cheek, “I’ll go get a towel.”

When you came back, Alden had turned the nightstand light on, and he looked absolutely perfect. Naked, satisfied, relaxed… the best version of Alden Parker you’ve ever seen until now.

He tried to reach for the towel but you slapped his hand away, and cleaned the sticky mess on his stomach. As soon as you were done, Alden grabbed you and pinned you on the bed, his body covering yours. “I think we can say that our platonic work relationship is ruined.” His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips.

“How terrible.” You grinned and he kissed you. You’ve been in control so far, but you knew at this moment that he was taking over.

“I’m not sure how I got you to be interested in me, but I’ll take it.” He lifted your tank top a little and went down to kiss your stomach.

“You’re the only one who didn’t know I’ve had a crush on you for months.” Your body shivered under his touch.

“I may have noticed a few things—“ he took your top off of you and admired your breasts before touching them, kissing them, playing with your nipples. “But it seemed impossible.” He kept touching your tits as he got back up to kiss you. You buried your hands in his hair, and wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Why? Because you’re older?”

“For starters.” He kissed you one more time before getting on his knees. He slowly took off your panties while staring deep in your eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck about your age.” He looked at your panties, smelled them before throwing them away. You practically moaned at his actions.

“You should, babydoll.”

He settled between your legs, kissed your inner thigh, bit a little, and gently touched your pussy, looking at it so hungrily.

“Well if you don’t fuck me properly, I just might.” You teased, trying not to lose your mind over having him down there.

“As much as I want to, I’m not going to fuck you tonight, unless you got a condom hidden in your bag.”

“For fuck sakes!” You shouted.

“Sorry, doll. But I’m going to make you cum.”

And he finally dived in. He inhaled your scent deeply, before putting his month where you needed him the most. Alden knew what to do, when to do it. He ate you like a starving man. Making you moan loudly. You felt his index finger penetrating you, and another finger as his month kept playing with your clit. It didn’t take long before that amazing and familiar feeling appeared. One of your hands was in his hair, while he was holding the other with his free hand. Your legs around his neck could’ve suffocated him but you didn’t care and neither did he.

“I want to taste all of you, doll. Cum with my mouth.” He encouraged you. “I’ve got you.” He repeated your words. And you didn’t need more.

After cleaning you with the towel, Alden held you as you were catching your breath. Kissing your hair, he gently stroked your back. You both enjoyed this moment, this position, this tenderness. You didn’t know what tomorrow would be like, or even what this all meant.

Neither of you dared to ask.

#alden parker #alden parker fanfic #alden parker imagine #ncis #alden parker x reader #ncis fanfiction #ncis imagine #jessica knight #jimmy palmer #kasie hines #nick torres #tim mcgee #ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #ncis fandom

111 notes · View notes

iobsessoverfictionalmen · 6 months

Text

The Sounds of Justice - Master List

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

A/N: This is my response to the mafia AU poll that I posted. It was a challenge to write it but it was worth it. Comments and reblogs are very much welcomed and I hope you enjoy the fic. Please take notice of the warnings; they are exactly the same as the warnings on this page and they will be at the top of each chapter.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

81 notes · View notes

eyebawll · 4 months

Text

THRU THE LOOKING GLASS

•°. *࿐ քʀօʟօɢʊɛ ➻

.·:*¨༺ 𝘼 𝙂𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙༻¨*:·.

Thru The Looking Glass is a creepypasta x f! reader fanfic I started writing months ago but only just now published. Now, I'm here to do the same for this silly little site! Warnings and story under the cut.

WARNINGS: This story contains content that may not be suitable for any of my younger followers. This story contains heavy depictions of gore, violence, murder, death, abuse, childhood abuse, SA, derealization, mental health issues, and other topics. + my over the top writing (oops)..This is a more realistic approach while also having fun with it. I needed something new to work on while I go about with my other stories.

word count: 5,722

summary: In this OC-worthy tale of horror and pain, we follow the story of Y/N, a young woman whose life has been shattered by tragedy and abuse. Haunted by hallucinations and plagued by violent outbursts, Y/N is trapped in a cycle of torment, unable to escape the clutches of her controlling and abusive father. A retired doctor with a zealot's faith, he subjects his daughter to a range of experimental treatments in his quest to purge her of demons that he believes have sought refuge in her pure form.

As Y/N struggles to retain her grip on reality, wonderland and real life alike, she must unravel the thick web of her father's madness, and reclaim her identity before it's too late.

A large building loomed over the street, its windows black and empty. The darkness outside was all-encompassing, the kind that seeps into your bones and fills you with a deep sense of dread. The wind howled like a wounded animal, rattling the windows in their frames and sending shivers down the spines of anyone brave enough to venture out. The streetlights flickered sporadically, casting an eerie glow over the empty sidewalks. There was no sign of life, no sound except the wail of the wind. It was a ghost town, a place where nightmares come to life. And for Y/N, it was hell.

Y/N stumbled into her old cramped bedroom, her heart hammering in her chest. She locked the door behind her, feeling a fleeting sense of safety. But the feeling was fleeting indeed, as the dark room seemed to close in on her. The vintage wallpaper, once vibrant and lively, now peeled and faded, hung like a veil of sadness around the room. The creaky floorboards groaned in protest beneath her feet, as if they too shared her burden.

She let out a ragged sigh and collapsed onto her bed, her limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. The mattress, worn and lumpy, offered no comfort, and she winced as fresh pain shot up from the bruises on her arms and legs. Her eyes, swollen and red from tears, took in her surroundings: the small desk and chair, both rickety and unsteady, pushed up against one wall; a dresser with a chipped mirror in the opposite corner; and the twin-sized bed with a faded floral bedspread, now more depressing than cheerful. The room was still and quiet, save for her ragged breaths that echoed off the walls. It felt like a prison, and she was the only inmate.

Soft eyes slowly opened to the sight of an unfamiliar space, filled with nature and elegant wildlife. The plush bed she lied in was covered with a down comforter and fluffy pillows, the area's furnishings exuding a timeless charm. A vintage dresser with an ornate mirror stood high, while a side table held a delicate antique lamp that cast a warm glow that seemed to produce a warm barrier of protection despite its irrelevancy, the sunlight covering the wooded area with a blanket of warmth. She could recognize these items as her own, however they seemed to look brighter. They looked as if she had just gotten them. As she sat up, Y/N felt a soft breeze settle against her skin, rustling the trees--almost like a nurturing embrace from mother nature.

She looked out into the forest beyond, where the trees stood tall and majestic, their leaves a riot of colors in shades of green, red, orange, and gold. The forest was kind of quiet, yet alive with the soft sounds of chirping birds and other forms of wildlife. There was an atmosphere of mystery and enchantment within this queer place. She looked around, noticing she wasn't in her bedroom, or even in a building. Her bed, the dresser and the table were placed in the middle of a plethora of trees in which surrounded her, a long, endless pathway splitting feet away. Curious, the young woman pulled the covers over her side, kicking her legs over the bed as she further took in her surroundings.

She shivered as she stood up, the lace at the bottom of her nightgown flowing with the breeze that swept over her body. She took a deep breath, the scent of damp earth and crisp leaves filling her lungs. The forest seemed to stretch out endlessly, the trees towering over her like sentinels. The ground was soft beneath her feet, the fallen leaves cushioning her every step. She wondered how she'd gotten here, and why she was in the middle of a forest. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her own bed, her father's voice echoing in her mind. Here she is now, surrounded by the beauty of nature. She felt a sense of calm wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. In this moment, a blurry cloud filled her mind. All she knew were the sights before her.

As she looked around, she noticed something strange. Moving along the brown trail, she began to see dolls. These dolls hung by thread, some even from rope with a tight loop around their necks, creating a noose. They were a mixture of old and new, ranging from simple cloth dolls to elaborate porcelain ones. The closer she looked, the more she realized that some of the dolls had an uncanny resemblance to her. Most were in one piece, while there were also random doll parts such as heads and legs, swinging with the wind.

She continued, the dolls on the branches seeming to multiply as she walked further. Some of them were cracked and broken, their once beautiful, fresh features now twisted and corrupted. The air grew colder, and the sky turned from a calming blue to a deep, foreboding red. The trees themselves began to ooze from their trunks, a mysterious liquid easing into the forest floor. This liquid was rich and thick, possessing a deep shade of red, matching the sky. Y/N could feel her heart sink as that calming feeling dissolved, replaced with a painful twist in her stomach.

The dolls seemed to come alive, their heads turning to watch her as she passed by. Their once happy faces twisted into expressions of anger and disgust, their eyes seeming to follow her every move. The path became more treacherous, the ground uneven and full of roots and rocks. Y/N stumbled, her foot catching on a branch and sending her tumbling to the ground. As she picked herself up, she noticed a doll lying on the ground next to her. It was cracked and its eyes were closed. Its skin was pale and its hair was tangled, a familiar red liquid oozing from the creases of its broken cheeks. She rushed away from it, stumbling as she made her way deeper into the infinite amounts of trees.

Y/N felt like she had been wandering for hours, the path ahead of her only seeming to stretch further. The forest grew darker as she pressed on, the sky overhead seeming to darken its hue. The once tranquil sounds of nature had been silenced. It was quiet. Too quiet.

She stumbled upon a clearing, the ground beneath her feet soft and spongy. She looked around, noticing that the trees here were different from the rest, their bark gnarled and twisted. As she stepped forward, a voice suddenly spoke from the shadows, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Who are you? What brings you to my domain?"

The voice boomed, deep and menacing. Y/N looked around frantically, trying to locate the source of the voice. She saw a large wolf-like animal standing before her, its coat a deep red with a black mane and tail. Its glossy white eyes glinted in the dim light, and its sharp teeth were bared in a grin that sent shivers down her spine. The dog took a step forward, its powerful muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Y/N couldn't help but feel both confused and unsettled by the sight of the creature. It was like no other canine she had ever seen, and the way it spoke only added to her confusion

"I-...I appear to be lost," she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest.

The dog stepped closer, its eyes seeming to glow in the darkness as it revealed itself further from within the trees. "Lost, you say?" it hissed, its breath hot against her face. "Perhaps I can help you find your way."

Y/N took a step back, unsure of whether to trust this hound. But with no other option and a clouded mind, she nodded.

The hound turned around and began to walk, its massive form barely making a sound as it moved through the forest. Y/N hesitantly followed, her senses on high alert as the silence around them grew deafening. The once beautiful trees now looked twisted and gnarled, their branches stretching out like long fingers. The ground was littered with fallen leaves and broken twigs, and the red hue of the sky made the forest appear even darker.

As they walked, Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched. Every now and then, the hound would pause, as if sensing something that she could neither see nor hear. She shuddered, feeling as if the forest was closing in around her.

Her head was spinning, and the scent of blood grew stronger, overwhelming her senses. She felt her stomach churn, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Something felt terribly wrong about this place. Just then, the hound stopped in his tracks. He turned his head, and Y/N watched as he silently dissolved away into a mist. The mist surrounded her, and she was left standing alone in the darkness. She couldn't see her own hands in front of her face, and the smell of blood was suffocating. The mist, thick and ethereal, stretched out before her, obscuring her vision like the veil of a widow.

"Hell- Hello?" She croaked in a small voice, seeking out for her new friend. Where could he have gone?

She pressed on, eventually giving up. Determined to find her way out., time seemed to blur as she walked, her senses stuffed with cotton. After what felt like forever, she began to notice the mist was starting to clear. In time, she found herself deeper in the dim-lit forest. The sun, barely visible through the dense canopy of towering trees, cast fragmented rays of light that danced upon the forest floor. The air was heavy with the earthy scent of rain, hinting at the recent downpour that had bathed the woods.

As Y/N ventured deeper, the bark of the trees became darker and more weathered. Their branches reached out like gnarled fingers, seemingly whispering secrets to one another. Shadows played tricks on her eyes, making it difficult to discern the true path ahead. Despite the sickening feeling inside, Y/N's building fight or flight sent her forward. She yearned for the warmth of sunlight on her skin, or better yet, to find herself entangled in the covers of her thick blanket in her own bed. The mist persisted, swirling around her like a cloak, but she refused to be once again consumed by it again.

A sense of relief washed over her as she found herself in the presence of this quieter, more secluded part of the forest. The soft filtered sunlight offered a flickering respite from the shadows. The air was gentle and easy on the senses, scents of rainwater and fresh grass replacing the stomach-churning scent of blood. It felt familiar, comforting. But as moments turned into minutes, a growing unease crept back into Y/N's consciousness. It started as a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck, an instinctual warning. She strained her ears, trying to decipher any peculiar sounds within the natural symphony of the forest.

Suddenly, a faint snap shattered the growing atmosphere of ease. Y/N's head snapped in the direction of the noise, gasping involuntarily. Her eyes darted through the dimly lit surroundings, searching for the source, but all she saw were dancing shadows and swaying branches. It was as if the forest itself played tricks on her, taunting her, keeping its secrets hidden from view. A shiver raced down her spine, casting a chill in the air. The forest, of which was peaceful and quiet, now seemed to become more ever twisted than before. Y/N quickened her pace, fear fueling her steps. She refused to be consumed by fear or doubt. All she wanted was to get home.

She pressed forward, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. She knew she had to keep going, as the answers she sought lay somewhere within the heart of the trees. A darkness loomed in her mind, urging her to turn back, but she refused. Guided by a glimmer of hope that rested deep within her trauma-trenched soul, she ventured deeper, making sure to follow each step of the path that only seemed to stretch further and further, edging her with the chance of safely finding her way.

The world around Y/N felt as though it had ceased to exist beyond the immediate circle of shadows and rustling leaves. Every nerve ending tingled with an acute awareness of impending ruin. As she strained her senses to decipher the source of the sounds, she felt herself submerged in overwhelming dread. It was an inexplicable dread, one that didn't just linger in the air but seeped into her flesh and clawed its way into her core. Then there was a smell. The stench intensified—a putrid mixture of decay and coppery undertones—coiling around her like a serpent.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Y/N couldn't bear to move. Her mind raced with fearful thoughts. Was it a wild animal? Was it a corpse?

A twig snapped with a crisp sound, closer this time. Y/N's heart lurched into her throat, rendering speech and movement impossible. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence now an unbearable weight pressing on her shoulders. She strained to pinpoint the origin of the noises, but the darkness thwarted her efforts, rendering everything beyond a few feet an empty abyss. Each and every second felt like an eternity, as if time itself had chosen this moment to stretch and distort. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the cold air burning her lungs. The once comforting rustle of leaves became a taunting chant, mocking her. Daring her to move.

Summoning every ounce of energy and courage she could possibly find, Y/N willed herself to move, to break free from the shackles fear had locked on her fragile limbs. But her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, as if held by an unseen force. The forest seemed to converge upon her, the trees closing ranks, confining her within them. Desperation clawed at her chest as she fought against the panic threatening to consume her entirely. She had to escape, had to find a way out before whatever lurked in the never ending darkness closed in on her. But with each passing moment, the forest's malevolence seemed to intensify, never ceasing to remind her she wasn't alone.

She slowly brings her leg to push forward, taking a step. She slowly rested her foot upon the dirt trail, like a child sneaking into the kitchen to find their way to the cookie jar. With a shallow exhale, she pushes her body forward, gently resting her other foot beside her left. Although tense, she seemed to relax, convincing herself if she were quiet, she wouldn't startle whatever it was that had desired to make itself known. In the thick shroud of the oppressive darkness, just before she was about to take another step, a queer and haunting clicking noise pierced through the silence, sending shivers down Y/N's spine. It was a sound that liquidated explanation—a disconcerting blend of a whine and the creak of an old, rusted door. The unsettling cry echoed around her, the trees seeming to tremble in fear.

She kept still. Nothing. She then took a few hesitant steps forward, her pulse thundering in her ears, each beat she felt in her flesh. But as her foot grazed the forest floor, convinced she would make it out, a sudden, heart-wrenching cry shattered that hope. It was a mournful sound, tinged with an unbearable sadness that clawed at the deepest parts of her soul (not to mention her ear drums). The cry seemed to emanate from the same entity, the trees now beginning to literally shake in shared anguish of the young woman.

Y/N's steps faltered, her breath hitching in her throat. Despite her fear, she felt a surge of empathy flood through her—a strange connection to the mournful sound from what could have been an injured animal. Her heart ached, entwined with the dread that held her. As if in response, the darkness seemed to coalesce, thickening around her. The forest itself seemed to draw even closer, pressing in on her from all sides.

She strained to discern any movement. But the more she strained herself, the more the shadows seemed to morph and shift, concealing whatever lurked just beyond her line of sight. Time seemed to warp and twist, elongating the moments into an eternity of psychological torture. The air around her crackled with an otherworldly tension, growing bitter and cold. Her every muscle tensed, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Yet, she found herself stuck by some force, held captive by an invisible barrier.

The cry echoed once more, only this time, it was closer. It was as though the injured creature sought solace in her presence.

She wanted so badly to run. A foreboding sensation crept up her spine, adding on to the building tension, causing her muscles to tense, locking themselves up so tight it was nearly painful. Her eyes widened in alarm, the adrenaline urging her to move, to flee. Yet, her strength allowed her only to do the bare minimum—a cautious, subtle glance, an attempt to discern the source of her dread without confronting it head on.

Slowly, her gaze shifted, almost sidelong, toward the space behind her. She dared not make direct eye contact, fearing whatever it was that lurked from behind. Her heart pounded furiously, echoing in her ears like a funeral drum, while her throat ran dry. The air was freezing by now. She felt as if she could get frostbite, feeling nips on her fingers and her bare toes, rendering her limbs tremulous and her breaths shallow. The clicking sound persisted, as the creature crept in from behind her.

An ache spread within her skull as she tried to catch a glimpse of what it was, only met with moving twig-like parts, what she could only assume to be arms. Her vision was obscured, offering mere glimpses of disjointed blotches. She discerned the unsettling silhouette of blotchy limbs, strange colors melded together. The creature's form appeared surreal, an amalgamation of beige tainted with splotches of crimson that resembled dried blood, twisted in abstract patterns across its strange horror-novel-esque frame.

Her breath hitched as she briefly caught sight of its torso—a bony structure, taut around its ribs, adorned with protruding spikes that seemed to glisten in the faint dim source of light. The sight sent her fear into overdrive, a primal instinct warning her of imminent danger. And then, she thought she saw its face—or what could pass for one. Black voids for eyes seemed to peer into the depths of her own, unnerving in their emptiness, devoid of any emotion or life. A hole of a mouth gaped open, revealing jagged, serrated teeth that protruded like sharp daggers.

In the shifting darkness, her gaze traced what she could only assume were its arms—twig-like appendages that moved sinuously. They were twisted and unnaturally long. The creature appeared to be tall, taller than her, and for its arms, hooked at the very edge where its hand would be, to touch the ground, she realized this was no wild animal. Y/N's mind reeled at the sight, grappling with the horrifying reality that stood before her—she was in a nightmare. She was in hell.

In her mind she screamed at herself to run before it was too late. Yet she still couldn't. Her bones felt fragile, as if the weight of her fear could shatter them into a million shards. She stood, transfixed by terror, caught between the compulsion to confront the creature and the overwhelming urge to book it. Straining her senses, specifically her sight and her hearing, caused her physical damage as she snapped her gaze back ahead, shutting her eyes tightly.

Suddenly, her ears began to ring. It numbed the back of her eyeballs while also sending a sharp pain through them. Instinctively, Y/N throws her hands up to her ears in attempts to blocking out the noise. She's unsure of whether or not that was the extra push she needed, but regardless, she found herself running. Her joints were unlocked, each movement swift and fluid. She just kept running, running through the dark, the tips of her fingernails digging into the sides of her head. She could feel herself scratching her hair follicles, digging into her skin as her faced scrunched in agony. She didn't dare open her eyes just yet, allowing her legs to carry her wherever they ended up.

In a sudden burst of light, a flash erupted from the depths of the forest. The light filtered through her eyelids, nearly blinding her as they shot open. She could feel herself stumble back, completely caught off guard. She stood there, head darting around the area. She found her footing light and her breath heavy, heart racing as she tried to process it all at once. It was as if the world around her transformed, and she found herself in a clearing bathed in filtered sunlight. The forest gave way to a serene oasis, where the gentle sounds of rustling leaves and distant birdsong filled the air. Y/N took a moment to absorb her surroundings, her senses recalibrating to this sudden peace. The trees, though still towering and ancient, now seemed to share a quiet wisdom rather than wicked darkness and sheer terror. The ground beneath her feet felt soft and mossy, inviting her into a haven of comfort and warmth.

Every ounce of unease and fear slowly but surely began to melt away as she calmly strolled through. All of this was too much—all she wanted was to go home. Perhaps it's this way?

It was fairly uneventful, her journey. She would take occasional twists and turns, following the path etched into the dirt that was awfully gentle on the skin of her bare feet. In this strange contrast to the previous forest, Y/N wandered along the winding paths, enveloped in its atmosphere of charm. The vintage allure of the surroundings added a familiar home-like touch to the scene. Oil-lit street lamps cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the path as if guiding her through a bygone memory. The air was filled with fluttering butterflies, their vibrant wings painting the air with kaleidoscopic hues.

As she ventured deeper, she was swarmed with curious sights that felt oddly enchanting. Hanging delicately from branches were dolls, but not suspended by rope around their necks as she had seen before. Instead, they dangled by slender pastel and rich-colored ribbons tied around their wrists, and sum even by the cuffs of their blouses and shirts, their porcelain faces serene yet haunting in their stillness.

Elegant decorations adorned the foliage, ornate carvings and nostalgic old trinkets nestled amidst the tapestry. It felt like a stroll through a forgotten memory, deep within the core of her mind, where time stood still.

However, as she tip-toed further along the trail, the ambiance began to shift once more. The air dropped, becoming cooler, and the light dimmed ever so slightly as if a cloud had passed over the sun. A peculiar sensation settled over her, a feeling that she wasn't alone. It wasn't all that threatening, however. Strange noises began to merge within the symphony of the forest. Heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by laughter that seemed to reverberate from somewhere unseen. Intrigued, while also apprehensive, Y/N couldn't resist the urge to investigate.

The noises grew closer, drawing her towards the edge of the path where it abruptly ended. Peering around the corner, she encountered an inexplicable sight—a fuzzy distortion, as if the fabric of reality blurred before her eyes. Through the haze and the surrealistic feeling she felt brewing inside of her, she captured glimpses of an odd scene—a pair of dark pants, knives glinting in a faint light. She strained her senses, having recovered from earlier, picking up what she could only discern into screams. They were faint and muffled, though, before she could hear something more. A low, infernal growl, or was it a groan? It settled into her ears, bringing a physical sense of warmth over her, however it wasn't anything positive.

Splashes of crimson caught her attention, vivid against the strange blurry backdrop. Then, from the distorted void, something popped itself forward, its head emerging through the blurry portal, locking eyes with hers. Y/N gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

Without a second thought, she turned and fled, her heart pounding in terror. She ran aimlessly, jumping over twigs and large rocks, completely disregarding the rest of the trail that seemed to go in many directions until, by sheer chance or fate, she nearly ran into a rusted brown door reminiscent of the one in her bedroom. It rested, open just a crack. Without hesitation, she yanked the doorknob back and leaped through, the metallic clang echoing behind her as she slammed it shut.

She had practically jumped into the open space, and her body went rigid, her muscles tensing on impact. But instead of the anticipated collision with a harsh surface, she found herself sinking into something soft, almost cushion-like. Confusion began to cloud her fear as her hands met the padded interior of what seemed to be a room. Her movements were sluggish, almost as if she were submerged in water, every action a struggle against unseen resistance. Crawling on hands and knees, she blinked repeatedly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim, eerie glow that emanated from the sparse lighting in the room.

A solitary window perched high above caught her attention, moonbeams casting soft shadows across the room. The faint glow of moonlight offered her some kind of comfort. At least she wasn't in a ditch somewhere. The light, guiding her unsteady steps towards the distant window, felt kind of warm compared to the awfully cold air that nipped at her skin. Disoriented and off-balance, she stumbled, her senses still reeling from the transition.

As she approached the window, her hands brushed against the padded walls, seeking stability. She raised her gaze, fixating on the distant glimmer of the moonlight filtering through the solitary window.

Fumbling and uncertain, she traced the contours of the walls with her hands, feeling the padded surface in an attempt to ground herself. But before she could fully process her surroundings, a sound—a shuffle, perhaps footsteps—outside the door snapped her attention away. Her breath hitched as she stared at the door, her heart thundering in her chest. The faint glimmer of light danced across the space as a slider on the door moved, revealing only a pair of eyes peering in at her. They glinted with curiosity, holding her gaze in a silent exchange.

Y/N's mind raced with questions, her mouth parting as if to speak, yet no words came. A chill crept down her spine as a surge of apprehension washed over her. Her hand involuntarily pressed against the padded wall, seeking a false sense of security as she struggled to comprehend the oddity of her situation.

Y/N watches intently as the person on the other side of the door turns the knob, the hinges creaking as it swings open. A blinding light spills into the room, causing Y/N to instinctively avert her gaze and squint against the sudden brightness. Slowly, her eyes adjust to the illumination, allowing her to steal a side glance at the figure that stood just at the doorway.

Recognition flickers across Y/N's mind as she discerns the person before her—a woman with fair skin and ginger hair elegantly tied up with swept, fluffy parted bangs. Despite the strangeness of the situation, she notes the woman's attire—a surgeon's uniform—with a mask loosely hanging under her chin. However, the most startling detail catches Y/N off guard—the absence of the woman's eyes. Instead, there's an unnerving expanse of smooth, featureless skin where her eyes should have been.

Confusion mingles with disbelief in Y/N's thoughts. She blinks repeatedly, hoping to dispel this surreal image that feels like a figment of her imagination. Her mind races with questions, her mouth opening as if to voice her bewilderment, yet still, she was silent.

Desperately seeking some form of reassurance, her hand instinctively presses against the padded wall behind her, though it offers no comfort against the unsettling reality she's confronted with. In a state of disbelief and growing unease, Y/N froze. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows high. She felt so cold, despite the warmth that spilled into the room from the other side. The woman's plump, glossy pink lips held a cigarette. She seemed confused, arms crossed as she leaned on her hip. A dent formed in which her eyebrows were meant to be, as if she was contemplating how this stranger got here.

For an eternal moment that feels suspended in time, Y/N remains frozen, unable to process the nightmarish sight before her. Yet, as she blinks, a sudden change unfolds. The woman, initially standing at the door, now leans in, her hands extending around the doorframe as her body seems to elongate. Her foot juts forward as if ready to step inside, but something is different.

The woman looms taller, her head protruding into the room, and a ghastly grin spreads across her face, her jaw extended to an inhumane rate. Y/N's horrified gaze fixates on a single, glistening eyeball resting upon the woman's tongue. The eye seems to fixate directly on Y/N, the same tint of amber from the slider on the door. Unable to contain her ever-growing (and never ending, it seems) fear, Y/N chokes up, her breath catching in her throat, a primal instinct compelling her to scream. But before the scream could tear from her throat, the woman, now twisting her body with a series of bone-cracking sounds, begins to crawl into the padded room. Her movements contort unnaturally as if defying the laws of physics, each bone-crunching twist amplifying the discomfort building in the atmosphere.

The cigarette that dangled from the woman's lips moments ago falls, landing on the padded floor. Strangely, it doesn't extinguish upon impact but continues to burn, creating a sizzling sound against the padded surface. The acrid scent of burning material adds to the sensory overload of the scene before the innocent woman, feeling herself begin to slip from the fingers of reality. If, that's what you could call this.

As the woman morphs further, her form distorts into something incomprehensible. The room seems to warp around her, shadows elongating and contorting with her every movement. The mask that rested underneath her chin disintegrated, along with her fair skin that seemed to burn away in Swiss-cheese like patterns until patches of the meat and muscle became apparent, her skin just barely hanging on. Her hair seemed to thin and fall out, while the cap dissolved, the faint sound of cracking bones intermingles with a low, guttural growl emanating from the creature, now towering over Y/N, its jaw hanging for its eye to continue to stare down upon her.

It drew nearer, emitting a stomach-churning odor of decaying flesh and bone and blood that overwhelmed her senses. Tears welled in her eyes, her brows and lip quivering as she recoiled, attempting to move as far back as possible while the creature advanced. In the depths of its mouth, its eye swiveled around, a soft clicking resonating through its towering form. Y/N's fingers dug into the wall behind her, desperately seeking something to hold onto.

"N—No. . ." A feeble protest escaped her parched throat, the words torn from her with the anguish of a thousand blades slicing through her vocal cords.

"NO!" A shriek tore from her throat, a mix of revulsion and fury contorting her face as she glared up at the creature.

Sliding down the wall in a final attempt to escape, she scrambled to the corner of the room. Only upon huddling up into the corner and snapping her gaze toward where the creature would have been did she realize that it was gone. The overpowering stench that had made her wanna hurl had dissipated, leaving a heavy silence in the air.

Reluctantly, Y/N lowered her gaze, turning her attention to the woman by the door. Standing with arms at her sides, instead of moving forward, she was stepping back. Her wide amber eyes shook with fear, her cigarette burnt to the butt, a small mound of ashes on the cold floor beneath. Her skin remained intact, her entire form unaltered. If anything, she seemed just as terrified as Y/N. Before Y/N could comprehend what just had happened, the woman forcefully shut the door, the lock clicking into place. Breathing heavily, Y/N was left in her confusion. She squeezed her eyes shut, the sounds of heavy footsteps and soft creaking floorboards settling into her ears, the light fading away, dominated by the darkness.

For a while, the world remained distant, her mind a jumble of fragmented thoughts and sensations before it all began to slip away. She felt herself floating, while she began to feel her limbs spread underneath a warm, familiar fabric. The creaking of the floorboards continued, accompanied by the gentle click of an opening door. Then, a soft breath caressed her ear, and a delicate touch brushed against a strand of her hair. She froze, every muscle tensing as a gentle hand continued, tenderly stroking her hair. As the fingers trailed down the strand, Y/N remained motionless, her body unresponsive. A voice, momentarily unfamiliar, deep and paternal, settled through her eardrums like melted butter.

"It's time for your medicine, my dear," the man's voice resonated softly, hardly above a whisper.

41 notes · View notes