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#turning 30 has been fine :)
burins · 5 months
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thinking about superman: lost again and the way it deals with clark's capacity for trauma... christopher priest really said what if we took this character for whom despite his outward friendliness has always deeply struggled with loneliness. and then we made him be alone for so, so long. what if we made nearly every connection he has with another person be someone who betrays or fundamentally misunderstands him!! what if we made one of those people be himself!!!
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culmaer · 7 months
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babeygirlbuckley · 1 year
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kinda tired of all these parent redemption arcs tbh. give chimney a gun
#911 spoilers#hey dont mind me im just casually popping in 👋🏼#but yeah anyway#eddie and ramon last season felt natural/organic but buck and chim in this one felt kinda forced#like im sorry but didnt the buckleys stop going to therapy with him?#youre gonna tell me that 30 years of emotional neglect has been resolved?? like. no lol#the ending was sweet but also. idk. contrived? that might not be the right word#and CHIMNEY#i have NEVER seen mr. han smile. not once. he was cold/distant with albert too but now all of a sudden theres a baby named after his dead#dead first wife and hes sitting on the floor playing?? making faces?? pop pop is funny???#it just doesnt seem realistic to me. like at all#plus everyone else putting the pressure on chim to reach out and fix things is bullshit#hen was so against him meeting with tatiana again. i feel like she was way too nice about it last ep#yeah its fine to encourage a talk for chim to get everything off his chest but like if it was me? if this was my friend?#idk maybe im a bad person but i wouldve used harsher language than that lol#'maybe its about what you need to say' turns into 'call him out! confront him! let him see what hes done to you! make him take responsibili#*responsibility!'#also didnt like that he wound up having the talk with his stepmom instead of the party actually involved#and maybe im remembering wrong but didnt his first marriage end bc his wife died?? he considers that a personal failure?#ANYWAY#all this to say: it is not the children's responsibility to reach out and reconcile with their parents. stop trying to make chim feel bad f#for being kinda aloof with the guy who literally abandoned him in a foreign country#god my thumbs hurt. im not used to this#chimney my beloved 💖#i think thats the tag. its been a while
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broodygaming · 1 year
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jonstarks · 1 year
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in spite of never have real friends, i never feel alone bc i always have my mom and dad and my cousin who was practically my second parent and now that all of them gone i just don't really know what to do
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willowfey · 1 year
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#i am not doing well girlies#disclaimers that i am fine i'm always fine i will always be fine but hooo boy i do not feel fine lol#everything is always overwhelming i am always sad  everything feels itchy#every single morning for weeks ive woken up with an anxiety bellyache and no matter how tired i am still i just have to get up#everyone i look up that i used to know is like. married and having babies or working their dream jobs and i just. im happy for them. i am#but where do i belong in all of this?#i know everything feels worse lately bc we're moving house and the routine changes and empty rooms feel Bad#plus my mom has not been doing well mentally which i feed off so it's just. you know#but will i ever Not feel like im so far behind? will i ever Not be deeply unsettled by even the mildest changes?#everything is so slow and so fast at the same time and it makes my head spin and we have a new friend who has a son my age and i was hoping#idk. that he'd be somewhat similar to me? falling behind a little bit too? maybe i could make a friend irl that understood a little?#but then i casually ask about him and oh no ofc he has a partner and family of his own etc etc#right. that's what i'm supposed to be doing at this age.ha#so many ppl i went to school with are married now. im turning the age this year that my mother was when she HAD me#meanwhile ive never even kissed anyone never even held a boy's hand never had any attention like that ever and#i wonder so often what it's like to be wanted by someone but ive never felt more undesirable#i cant imagine anyone looking at me and Wanting me. and at this point as romance obsessed as i am idk if i could even handle it#and the other night i was having anxiety dreams over the fact that i rly want kids but even waiting until im 30 thats only 5 years??#and 30 is already fucking five years away from being considered a GERIATRIC pregnancy?? but im not even done being a kid myself!!!!#and also who the fuck is gonna have a kid with me?? and who knows if i can even get pregnant when i rarely have a period ??#and i cant imagine not liiving with my mom and sister but does that mean i'll live with them forever??#will i be 30 35 40 45 still feeling like a kid? or worse.. will i not feel like myself at all?#will i be married to someone i dont love madly simply bc im so terrified to be alone?#or will i hold so tightly to my stories and fantasies that i will be alone bc nothing could ever live up to them?#will it even matter what i want? will anyone ever want me to even give me the option? or will this all stay hypothetical forever#im just. stressed. and i thought i'd be more by now.
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i think the hardest thing with rehabbing is that sometimes from your point of view there are no success stories some days. we have the birds who are doing well of course but im not really working with them. i did one exam today and the bird had to be euthanised because of the injury severity. the other intakes we were waiting for either didn’t come during my shift or died before they could get to us. the only other bird i worked with was a window strike with severe neurological damage who had to be force fed. sometimes i come home emotionally drained just because rehabbing isn’t always happy endings
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permanentreverie · 2 years
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While I'm so interested in what they're doing in the pachinko show, I also freak out whenever it differentiates from the book
#I'm surprised they made Solomon a prevalent character! I mean I guess so since it 'starts' with sunja and 'ends' with solomon#idk about the timeline though I think it would have been better if we followed linearly down the generations#but that wouldn't even be true would it? cause it doesn't end with solomon. the stories and generations continue on#and they're reeeally focusing on his bank job and so him turning to the pachinko business at the end is gonna hold more meaning#I just finished episode 2 and like im surprised at where we are in the story#Sunja and hansu are JUST starting their affair like we spent the whole first episode in sunjas childhood?? setting up some stuff idk#that could have probably been done in like 25-30 min if we rushed it#it's just we have SO much ground to cover#and we're 1/4 done already#and we've also ADDED STUFF THAT WASNT IN THE BOOK HELLO!?!?#hnnng changes need to be made when a work is adapted. changes need to be made. it's FINE#BUT STILL#also are we cutting out noa???? LIKE#noa's character was SUCH an important journey. his and mozasu being character foils of each other and each contrasting their different#fathers#like noa wanting to be Japanese to cover his heritage to be a good Korean#THAT ENTIRE CONVERSATION HE HAD WITH HIS JAPANESE COLLEGE GIRLFRIEND IS ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT PASSAGES IN THE WHOLE BOOK#also I do not like this romanticization of hansu. idc that lee minho is playing him that man has never been in a valid drama#when this show was airing I saw so many clips of their first time and all and people going 👀😱🥵#AND ALL I FELT WAS DREAD????#AHHHHH POOR SUNJA#it just hurts so much.#we're also including Hana's storyline?? I'm shocked that we did I thought we'd cut that one out#also why is this white guy here with solomon. smh you can really tell this was picked up by western media to adapt when they#romanticize america#sksjsjdb there is so much stress on Solomon's accent and that whole speech hansu said about America??? never in the book#I swear if they try to do something with Solomon working in America#THATS NOT THE POINT THE POINT IS THE STRUGGLE IN IDENTITY IN BEING ETHNICALLY KOREAN NOT ALLOWED TO BE CULTURALLY JAPANESE WANTING TO BELONG#also didn't like that it was shown that mozasu tampered with the machines cause in the book it was SO stressed that he was an honest#pachinko businessman
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gallusrostromegalus · 10 months
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I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.
-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a
~*Spiritual Experience*~
I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.
Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.
He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.
So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.
He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.
Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.
His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.
Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.
There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.
I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.
However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."
For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."
I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."
Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.
The Gods were not merciful today.
It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.
Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.
So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.
The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.
My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.
Which is when the hail begins.
"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"
I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.
So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.
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(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
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Decoy [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 6.9k
summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.
warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension
Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case
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You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.
You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.
All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.
But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.
"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.
“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”
"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"
“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.
“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.
Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.
“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”
"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”
“We can use our own team”
"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"
"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"
"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”
“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.
"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.
Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 
You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.
“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 
"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.
"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.
He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.
At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.
The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.
Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.
“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"
"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 
"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.
You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.
We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.
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As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.
Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.
Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.
When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.
"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"
"And meanwhile what do we do?"
"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"
“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.
“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"
“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"
“When the suspect approaches, yes”
"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.
My God, could that man make you more nervous?
When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.
"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"
"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"
“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”
"This is not a play"
"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”
"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.
“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”
“I actually know some good ones”
"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."
"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"
"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?
Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.
“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.
You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.
“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.
“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."
"Why you said so?"
“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.
"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."
“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.
"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"
"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."
You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.
“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."
"I am nervous"
"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"
"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"
"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"
"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"
"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"
"Smooch me?"
"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.
"That's not a picnic, Y/N"
You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.
You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.
"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.
"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.
"Is that our unsub?"
"It is"
You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.
"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.
“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"
"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.
You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?
"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.
You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.
“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.
You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 
It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.
There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.
The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.
“He started the trailer. He's going to go"
Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.
Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.
"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.
"Take... what?"
"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"
But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 
He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 
His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.
You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.
Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.
As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.
"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.
That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 
And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.
You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.
Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.
From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.
"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.
"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.
You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.
"How are you?"
"Very good, excellent" you stammered.
You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.
After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.
"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.
“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Don't you even dare make fun of this"
“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."
"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.
Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.
"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 
"Fine, and you?"
"Fine too"
You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.
"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"
"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?
Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.
"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"
“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”
"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."
“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.
While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.
"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.
“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”
“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."
"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"
“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"
"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"
Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.
“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”
“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."
You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.
"Then I'd love to, Reid."
“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"
“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.
It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.
“Today?”
"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.
“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”
It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.
Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.
"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"
"It did"
"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.
Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.
"Do you want to go after work, then?"
“Sounds good to me”
Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.
So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 days
Text
executive orders
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words: 3.8k
warnings: 18+ only, ceo!rafe, assistant!reader, mean!rafe but equally mean!reader lol, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pretend marriage (like fake dating but fake marriage hehe)
“so…” the woman says, heels clicking down the pristine hallway as you quickly follow. “as you were told in the interview process, mr. cameron is a very particular man. as his personal assistant, your focus is more on his well-being than the business.”
“okay, i understand.” you nod. you find the whole thing odd. the interview process where you didn't actually meet the man you'd be the personal assistant to. his semi nondescript job. ceo. of some company named after him, but you don't know the specifics on what his role actually includes.
“just know…” she pauses outside of the large door leading into the room. “this isn't going to be an easy job. it's why you're making a lot of money.”
“okay.” you say again. the more you learn, the more concerned you are, but you're willing to try, even if just for one day.
“and you're paid for through the cfo. mr. cameron does not have firing rights no matter what he says.”
you're not sure what she means, but it becomes very apparent when the moment you step through the door, the man you presume to be mr. cameron let's out a growl.
“serena, i told you i don't need a fucking babysitter!” you turn around, but the door has already been shut behind you. you can hear serenas heels clicking quickly down the hallway. you had completely forgotten her name in the stress of your first day, but you commit it to memory before turning to the ceo.
“hello, sir.” you say quietly. “im y/n.”
“i don't need you.” he grunts out before focusing on his computer, typing rather angry and aggressively. you stand frozen, waiting.
“i said i don't need you. leave. you're fired.” mr. cameron says.
“i um… i don't think you can fire me. sorry, sir.”
his fingers pause as he looks up at you, seeming to finally really see you as his eyes move down then back up your body. you weren't sure what to wear so you're dressed in a black work dress with long sleeves and a pair of flats. under his watchful eye, you wish you would have worn something less form fitting.
“i hate being called sir.” he says.
“okay, mr. cameron then.” you take a few shuffling steps forward.
“rafe.” he shakes his head. “just rafe. mr. cameron is my fucking dad and he's dead.”
your instinct is to say sorry for his loss, but you can't find the words, which ultimately seems to be the right thing as rafe hums then turns back to his computer screen.
you watch him work for a few minutes, occasionally looking around the sparsely decorated office. you swear every time you look away, rafes eyes move up to look at you, but by the time your gaze travels back to him, he's back typing on his computer.
“goddamn it.” he groans out. “don't just stand there all day. if you're gonna be here and i can't fire you, you might as well sit down.”
“oh!” it takes you a minute to realize he's talking to you as his eyes don't stray away from the screen, but then you're quickly moving to sit on the chair positioned on the other side of his desk.
you sit again, watching rafe, watching the clock, watching the view out the window. “what would you like for lunch, si-rafe?”
“whatever.” he waves his hand. “it's not your job to get it. someone will bring lunch to us.”
“oh.” you nod, becoming increasingly more aware that you're not really sure what your job is.
just like rafe said, someone brings in lunch at exactly 12:30, one tray for you and one for rafe.
when he closes his computer, you think that now will finally be the time to talk, but he eats in silence. “so-”
“no small talk.” rafe says. “i hate that shit.”
“well, what is it you'd like me to do then? just sit here? at least give me a task.”
“fine.” rafe grunts out. “when you're finished eating you can read through this report.” he tosses a thick three ringed binder onto the desk in front of you.
“fine.” you argue back, quickly scarfing down your food before grabbing the binder. 
you read through the report. you have no clue what the numbers mean, but you do find a couple punctuation mistakes and highlight them. rafe seems surprised you have any notes at all, his eyebrows raising when you grab the marker from his desk.
“there.” you place the binder down once you reach the last page. its tedious work, but at least it's something other than utter silence.
“great.” rafe takes the binder and tosses it into the trash can. 
“hey!”
“those were numbers from four years ago.” you can see the smirk on rafes features, his amusement at getting you to do something completely pointless.
“you're a real dick, you know?” you say, blurting the words out before you can think of the consequences, it's not like you want to keep the job anyways.
rafe sits silently, but his eyes are on you, hands frozen as you continue on.
“you should hear the way people talk about you. everyone is afraid of you, which you may think makes you a macho boss, but it just makes you a shitty guy to work for. no wonder you have to pay everyone two times more than any other company around here, they need that for putting up with your rudeness.” you rant, suddenly sucking in air as your words come to an end.
“it's 5pm. done for the day. ill walk you out.” rafe stands, but you move quicker, pushing the doors open and leaving him to walk behind.
you stop when you see serena and the cfo quietly chatting. you open your mouth to say you quit when rafe speaks from behind you.
“i like this one. make sure she's here tomorrow by 9am.”
you turn and look to him, but he's already walking away.
--
you weren't planning on showing back up, but serena is a convincing woman.
“good morning, rafe.” you place a drink carrier down onto the corner of his desk, plucking out your mocha before schooching the rest towards him. “i didn't know what you like. i got a hot black coffee, a caramel frappe and the a cappuccino.”
rafe stares at the drinks before picking up the frappe. you smile, you should have predicted that despite his hard exterior, rafe liked a sweet drink.
serena gave you the company card, saying to use it for any and all expenses, even grocery's or home decor, she didn't care, as long as you entered the building by 9 am tomorrow.
“i know you hate small talk, but you'll have to get over it. what does this company even do?” you take a sip of your mocha, the taste chocolatey on your tongue.
“we are a development company. real estate all across the world. we also manage construction.”
“oh.” you frown. “that's more boring than i thought.”
rafe let's out a soft chuckle, pleasant sounding to your ears.
“everything just seems so secretive.” you shrug.
“i think they didn't want you to know a lot in case you turned down the job. you're the longest an assistant has lasted.”
“and what…” you lean in, ignoring that it's only your second day. “exactly am i supposed to do?”
“just… keep me in check.” rafe shrugs. “i have a tendency to get angry. bad news will get passed through you. you're here to be a sounding board, where i can vent and bounce ideas off of.”
“i make 100k a year for that?” you scoff.
“i think 50 of that is just for dealing with me.” 
you laugh along with rafe. maybe you'll end up lasting an entire week.
-- two months later --
“are you free this weekend?” rafe asks.
“uh, yeah, why?” you question. you've learned rafe likes when you stand up to him, speak your mind and not let him push you around like he does everyone else. he's come to respect you for it, and it's made work much easier.
“im needed in new york city. id like for you to come with me. as my assistant.”
“sure, ill start looking for hotels.” you open up your laptop.
“spare no cost. i want somewhere nice.”
you roll your eyes dramatically. “of course you do.”
you already knew to look only at 5 star hotels, the most expensive of the lot. despite the short notice, you find two connecting suites that will work for you and rafe.
“and how are we getting there?” you ask. “want me to talk to jeffery about taking the private jet?”
“yup, i want to fly into laguardia, not jfk.”
“got it.” you nod, finding the correct number in your phone before stepping out to talk. you confirm all the details, jotting down times in the notes app on your phone.
you stop by after the phone call to update serena of your plans, learning she's a secretary of sort for the whole company, really the number two right behind rafe.
“hey girl.” you smile. “heading to nyc with mr. cameron for the weekend.”
“oh, good.” she sighs happily. “he's been needing to go out there.”
“yeah.” you shrug. “if you say so!” you keep yourself firmly out of the business side, just like she told you your first day here.
“make sure you do something fun while you're there too. while he's in meetings you could see times square, or check out central park.”
“i definitely will! i want to see the cherry blossoms if they're still in bloom.”
“sounds fun.” serena nods before her desk phone begins to read. “sorry, gotta get this.”
“see ya.” you wave as you walk back to rafes office.
“all good?” he questions.
“laguardia, just as you want.” you smile, sitting back at your upgraded chair.
“don't know what id do without ya.” rafe says.
“don't be nice to me.” you scrunch your name up. “it's weird.”
--
“how were the cherry blossoms?” rafe asks.
“most of them still in bloom, actually.” you say with a soft smile. you ended up taking a lot of pictures along with exploring the rest of the park.
“nice.” he hums. “did you bring an evening dress?”
“no. and you didn't tell me i was supposed to.” you say.
“well… i would appreciate it if you joined me at dinner tonight. it's with a very important client who um… may be under the impression that im traveling with my wife.”
“your- your wife?” your eyes widen. “you want me to lie about being your wife?”
“just for tonight. id really appreciate it.” rafe looks at you with a softness in his eyes. “please.”
“okay… but i don't have an evening gown… or anything fancy.” 
“let me take you shopping then.” rafe pulls out his phone. “there's got to be a nice store near us.”
you place your hand on top of rafes phone. “ill find a place.”
you end up finding a formal store only a couple blocks away. you decide to walk, rafe keeping close to you, glaring at anyone who even glances at you for too long.
you make it to the store without any interruptions, and rafe quickly points out the kinds of dresses that will fit the restaurant before standing back to let you choose.
“you wanna watch me try them on, husband?” you ask rafe, following the associate with an armful of dresses back towards the private changing rooms.
“of course.” rafe follows behind you, eyes glancing down your figure. he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous fitted dress.
when you step out in the first dress, rafe swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “you're getting that one.”
“you sure?” you look in the mirror, twirling around to look at the dropped back. “i don't know if this color looks good on me.”
“it looks good on you.” rafe says. “but by all means, try on more. ill buy you multiple.”
rafe ends up buying you every single dress you try on except for one that's too loose and doesn't fit well. you insist you only need one, but you're not going to argue with your boss wanting to spend money on you.
you end up choosing the first one you tried on to go to the dinner with rafe. your hands shake slightly, not sure what to expect. rafe sees it, hesitating before wrapping your hand in his.
“it'll be fine. you can just… just be quiet for the most part. ill do all the talking.”
“okay.” you squeeze his hand back, not used to the physical contact with rafe, but finding it surprisingly comfortable.
you follow him into the restaurant, everyone else dressed to the nines, perfect hair and makeup on the women, the men with the shiniest shoes. “it's really beautiful in here.” you whisper.
“wait till you taste the food… wifey.” rafe says, making you both laugh.
“ah, mr. and mrs. cameron.” the man says in a slightly accented voice as you both shake his hand, as well as the associate next to him. “so glad to meet the both of you. we appreciate getting into business with a true family man.”
“of course.” you smile, putting on your best acting performance. “we are so excited to start our family soon.”
“we must see the wedding photos. my wife-” the man puts a proud hand on his chest. “is a wedding dress designer.”
“oh.” you frown. “i would love to show you, but we haven't gotten them back yet.” you smile at rafe. “we’re newlyweds.”
“ah, cheers to the beginning of a lovely marriage then.” he raises his glass to clink with the others at the table.
“please, kiss! you must after a toast.” the associate says.
you turn to rafe, glancing down to look at his lips. it would totally give you away to refuse, so you take a deep breath and lean into in, pressing your lips together in a quick kiss. it lasts only a moment, but you swear you feel a spark, a tug to continue kissing him.
rafe doesn't bring it up until later, as your riding the elevator back up to your hotel room. “you did great. im sorry about the kiss.”
“it wasn't bad.” you giggle softly, slightly drunk on the wine that was served.
“im glad you think that.” rafe smiles softly. “you'll make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man someday.”
“maybe we could…” you swallow harshly, the alcohol encouraging your words you know you shouldn't say. “maybe we could keep pretending. just for tonight. and then when we get back to the office things can be back to normal.”
“and what does continuing to pretend to be husband and wife entail?” rafe questions, taking a step closer to you.
“more kissing. more… more.”
rafes lips are against yours suddenly, ignoring the elevator doors sliding open in favor of his mouth pushing against yours, lips gliding harshly over each others. the kiss is the exact opposite of the restaurant, whereas it was quick and innocent, this kiss is full of fire and passion.
the elevators slide shut and begin to head back down to the lobby. “shit.” rafe groans against your lips, jamming the button towards your floor. “sorry baby.”
“just… keep kissing me until someone gets in.” rafe listens to your pleas, kissing you until the elevator comes to a halt. even then, he doesn't move far away, keeping himself stood possessively over you, your back against the elevator wall.
you smile awkwardly at the three men who enter before turning your face into rafes chest, focused on the hand that has slipped around your waist. 
the elevator stops and the three men get off. the second it's moving again, rafe is back kissing you, stumbling out when your doors open as to not make the same mistake as last time.
“shit.” rafe groans, having to fumble in his pocket to get the key card for the door.
you let out a soft giggle, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw until the door swings open and you're able to step in the room.
“are you sure?” rafe asks, closing and locking the door behind you.
“im sure.” you nod. “this is just… pretend. let's do what husbands and wives do.”
rafe moves you towards the bed, backing you up until you sit down on the plush spread, decorated exactly like yours in the connecting room, but this bedding still smells like rafe from the night before.
he sinks to his knees, such a strong, dominant man on the floor for you as he takes off your heels, carefully slipping them off your soles before setting them to the side.
“thank you.” you say softly. rafe looks up at you before leaning forward, pushing the slit of your dress open to press kisses to your knees, and then thighs, moving up until the dress no longer allows him to.
“i need you to take this off.” he says roughly.
you nod, shifting yourself to stand as rafe also rises. you turn your back to him, his hands moving to your waist before moving up until he's cupping your chest over the shiny material.
“rafe-” you gasp out as he squeezes, his large palms enveloping your entire breast.
rafe holds his hands there for a moment longer before moving them to your back, unzipping your dress and watching it fall to the floor. you're in just a small pair of lingerie, having bought it for yourself yesterday in a boutique.
“shit.” rafe curses again. “you're… you're so beautiful.”
you turn around to kiss him again, his hands now against your bare skin as he explores, moving all along your sides and back.
your own hands get busy as well, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. you pull away to see his muscles, hints of which you've seen when he's rolled up his sleeves or wore a tighter than normal shirt, but now you can finally really see and appreciate them.
“lay down, please.” rafe says.
you move to lay on his bed, head resting against the pillows as rafe crawls over your body. his mouth finds yours again as his hand delves under your back to unhook your bra. he pulls it away from your body as his lips leave yours.
he's only off your skin for a moment before his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around in circles as his hand holds your other breast.
“oh, shit.” it's your turn to curse as your eyes squeeze closed, hand coming to the back of rafes head, feeling his short hair as he sucks on your nipple before kissing all over the swell of your breast. he switches sides, wanting to taste all of you.
you lift your hips when his hand grabs onto your underwear, allowing him to pull it all the way down until you kick it off the bed. rafe pulls away to look between your legs, letting out a soft moan when you part your thighs and he can see how wet you already are.
“beautiful.” he says, eyes closing like it's too much to look at you as his hand skirts down your stomach before finding your wetness, finger circling around your entrance before gently pushing in.
“kiss me, please.” you take rafes face in your hands, guiding your mouths back together as his finger carefully thrusts in and out. he slowly increases the speed until you're whining against his lips for more.
rafe twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit as you let out a moan, hips pressing up, seeking more.
“i need you.” rafe pulls his hand away. “i need you so bad.”
you nod quickly, giving him one more quick kiss before he pulls away to take off his pants and underwear. you bite your lip once hes completely nude, his cock standing tall and hard away from his body. you want to taste him, want to see what it feels like to have his cock sit heavy on your tongue, but you need him inside of you more.
“i have a condom somewhere…” he looks around.
“you don't need to wear one. I'm on birth control.” you can feel your cheeks blush just at the suggestion. “it's… it's not what a husband and wife would do.”
“okay.” rafe doesn't need any more convincing, crawling back over your body. “do you want me like this?”
you flip over quickly so you're on top, rafes back now pressed into the mattress. you grab onto his cock, giving him a few quick strokes before you line him up with your cunt, sinking down with a synchronous moan.
you keep your eyes on rafes face as you begin to move, hips grinding up and then back, your hands sat firmly on his chest to help you move.
you're able to grind your clit down against his skin every time you sink fully down, just adding to the pleasure. he's stretching you out in the most pleasurable way, just enough to feel it without being painful.
“so fucking beautiful.” rafe says, reaching up to hold onto your tits as they bounce with your body.
you put all your energy into riding him, knowing this might be your only chance to, but hoping it's not, hoping you can feel him inside of you again.
“i- baby.” rafe grunts out, hands moving down to your hips. he helps you move as your legs quickly tire, not used to this position.
“you feel so good.” you whine out eyes sliding shut as rafes hips begin to push up, lifting you with every thrust, spearing his cock even further into you.
“im-im close.” you admit with a gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time.
“cum for me baby, please.” rafe moves one of his hands to your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to rub over your clit.
you cry out, back arching as you instantly cum, not needing any more stimulation as your body shakes before flopping forward, falling against rafes chest.
he gives you a minute, as long as he can hold back before flipping you onto your back. it takes him only a few thrusts to cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim.
rafe flops down next to you, both breathing heavily, skin sheened in sweat.
you wait for a moment. to see if he's going to say anything. when he doesn't, you scooch closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek and bringing him in for a kiss, not yet done pretending.
-- four years later --
“you remember the first time we came here?” rafe asks, stepping into the restaurant with his hand wrapped around yours. it's redecorated some, but is still familiar.
“how could i forget.” you smile at him. “where i first pretended to be your wife.”
“well, at least you don't have to pretend anymore,” rafe says, swiping his thumb over the diamond ring on your finger “mrs. cameron.”
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d3vilcvntz · 2 months
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teacher's pet <3
ftm older character x top amab reader (reader is around 18 while the teacher is 30+ )
cw; teacher and student relationship, obsessive behaviour, pregnancy ment in the end
you were a good student, always listened to whatever he said. sometimes, you would make small talks with him after class and he enjoyed your company.
but he really shouldn't be having these kind of thoughts at all, especially when you're his students that are way younger than he is but it's not his fault that he can't stop himself, you're just so tempting !
fingering his pussy in the class when everyone's gone, sitting on your desk. he wondered how your cock would feel inside him <3
he feels super guilty when he had to see you the next day. you greeted him like normal, giving him a handshake.
he went to the bathroom right after, giving excuses that he's feeling unwell, just to fingered himself with his hand that you just touched. he shouldn't be like this over a student. it's wrong and he knew that.
going back to class, admiring you while you were doing works. you look so good without even trying.
you approached him one day, asking him to be your private tutor because you really wanted to get better grades and he quickly agrees to it
just thinking about it get him all excited already ! you arrived at his place after school and he happily invited you in
teaching you all the things you never know and giving you extra tips to pass your final exams. you innocently got close to his face to hear better but the way you smells really turns him on ! he can feel himself getting wet from it, pushing his thighs together, trying to restraints himself from just pounding on you.
you left after a few hours of studying with him, accidentally leaving behind your handkerchief.
pushing the dildo in while smelling your handkerchief, imagining the plastic toy as you instead, making him cum quicker than anything ever done !
he saw you with a girl the next morning, the girl was giving you a letter, love letter to be specific. clenching his fist, he feels himself getting ridiculously jealous over some stupid whore trying to take you away from him
he 'accidentally' got the girl expelled few days later from the school because of some rumours, saying the girl has been sleeping around for money and better grades. he swear he doesn't know who started the rumours at all !
right before the holiday, you meet him once again, telling him about how you liked him from the start but never know how to tell him. you told him that it's fine if he rejected you, but to your surprise, he told you that he'd be more than happy to be with you ! he told you that this will be your guys little secrets and you eagerly agreed, you'll do anything if it means you can be with him.
"is this really your first time?" he asked while unbuttoning your shirt. you nodded and he smiled softly, he's so happy that you gave him your first time ♡
riding your cock so eagerly, hands playing with his own nipples. moans filling up the room as you grips his hips and thrust harder into him. feeling yourself getting closer, your thrusts became more sloppy. you didn't even had time to pull out, you were glad that you wore condom or that's what he wants you to think.
imagine your surprise when he told you a few weeks later that he's pregnant and it's definitely yours ? you were shocked but agreed to take care of the child together with him. his plans worked after all, now you're together with him forever <3
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inkskinned · 9 months
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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ineadhyn · 5 months
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As someone who turns 30 this month one of the many things I like about Baldur's Gate 3 is that it normalizes finding love later in life.
Everyone around seems to get married and starts families, but it's okay. Gale has gray strands in his hair and is single after an intense relationship. Halsin is middle aged even in elf terms and has had myriads of lovers but no-one to settle down with. Astarion did not have the freedom to find himself and therefore love for almost all his life. Minthara has been too devoted to her job/cult for 200 years. Karlach and Shadowheart are at least in their late twenties.
It's fine if it hasn't happened yet. The right person just has not been tadpoled by now.
(Edit: I know now Shadowheart is at least 40. Thanks for clearing that up)
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kyber-crystal · 4 months
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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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milkteahood · 2 months
Text
texas heat
Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader
Warning: smut! minors dni!!!
Summary: basically a smut with a plot
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Sweat broke on your forehead as you wiped it still half asleep. It was terribly hot to even rest. As your eyes opened and started to adjust to the darkness around you, thoughts about the whole situation were still fresh in your mind. How long has it been? You thought to yourself. A few months maybe? 4? 5?
You stopped counting the days after the first few weeks. What for anyway? It wasn’t like you were ever leaving.
***
“Come on boys! We are completely lost!” your friend spoke, gesturing with her hands.
“It’s fine! It’s all good. A little detour” the driver laughed without a care in the world.
“That’s right Sam! Stop being so difficult. Look, Y/N isn’t saying anything” the other guy talked from the passenger’s seat.
At the mention of your name, you looked up from your book, and then quickly got back to it. You weren’t actually reading, but they weren’t paying attention to that. If they did, they would’ve seen you didn’t turn any page in the last 5 minutes. Pretending was just a good excuse to be out of this circus of conversation.
You didn’t consider any of them your friends. And you were sure they didn’t think of you as that either. They were Sam’s friends. And Sam was your friend out of convenience, just as you were to her. You wanted to travel, and she didn’t want to be the only girl on the trip.
“Come on Y/N!” Sam started “whose side are you on?”
“Maybe we should stop and ask for directions” you finally raised a point.
“Yeah? And where the fuck would we stop for that?” the driver asked “there is nothing around here!”
A sigh escaped your lips and you finally put the book down, looking out the window. Then, suddenly, you pressed your finger on the window, gesturing in the distance “there, it looks like a house”.
Little did any of you know this was the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.
***
Rubbing your eyes, you looked at the little clock on your nightstand. 11:30 pm it said. It wasn’t that late, yet you couldn’t remember when you fell asleep. Realistically, the only one still awake was Thomas. The thought of that made you freeze in place. Oh yes, you thought to yourself again the summer isn’t the only reason I can’t sleep.
Another sigh left your lips. You didn’t think you would end up in this situation. Spared by a bunch of cannibals for the sole reason you smacked the driver when he started insulting Thomas.
***
“Hello?” the driver’s friend… Jason? Jack? Jeremy? J something. You couldn’t remember. Your name memory was never your strongest suit.
“Hello?” J began knocking again. And a second time. Just before knocking for a 3rd time, a woman opened the door.
“Yes? Who are you?” she spoke.
“Oh hello ma’am!” Sam approached “we are completely lost. We were wondering if you could give us any directions”
Luda Mae looked all of you up and down before speaking “come inside. You will die of the heat before you get any directions”
The boys looked at each other and you looked at Sam. But ultimately decided to follow the lady inside.
***
The memories were still fresh and you were sure they would be for the rest of your life. As you lay on your back, looking around the room, you felt your heart skip a beat as another thought made itself apparent. Thomas. Or better said. Your crush on Thomas. In the past month or so, you tried your best to get close to him. You offered to help with everything and anything he needed. Yet, he did his best to avoid you. You weren’t dumb, you knew exactly why. He was absolutely terrified at the idea you’re just fucking around. Lying. Being nice to him so he wouldn’t kill you.
“For fucks sake Thomas. I was nice to you even before I knew you butchered people for a living” you whispered yelled alone, in your room.
***
“So kids, how did you end up here?” Luda Mae asked, trying to see if you would make a good addition to the Hewitt meat supply. Were you going somewhere? Was someone important waiting for you? What was the chance of people coming to look for you? Those were important questions that needed answers. They couldn’t risk killing someone that could potentially lead the police to them.
As the conversation was unfolding, the driver and J became more and more impatient to leave, and your head cocked when hearing some footsteps. Before you realized it, this massive man was sitting in the doorway, breathing heavily, not saying a word.
“Oh Tommy! Look! We have guests” Luda Mae said, looking at her son. Thomas was tall, a huge man, his apron covered in blood.
“Oh fuck! What the fuck is that? He looks like—” the driver said but didn’t get to finish whatever insults he was going to spew because you smacked him.
“Just shut up. For once. Not everything revolves around you and your daddy’s money. You can’t just speak this way to people” you said, while he looked you completely shocked. No one has ever dared speak to him that way. Let alone slap him.
And that was the moment Luda Mae decided you would be the only one left alive.
***
The floor was cooler than the bed. You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was so dark you could barely see, only managing to make out your silhouette. You stood there for a while, thinking of what you should do.
You liked Thomas from the moment you saw him. You tried to befriend him but all he did was ignore you. On the occasions he actually had to interact with you, he looked so tense, like he was on the verge of exploding. You tried to give him space, but it wasn’t really helping. And now you were pacing around your room, unable to sleep because all you wanted was Thomas. The man who killed your “friends”.
What the fuck is wrong with me… he’s a murderer, his whole family is crazy.
Yes and so are you. I mean, you’re not running. You think he’s hot. This man could dismember you in a heartbeat and you think he is attractive. Talk about fucked up.
You frowned at your own thoughts. Thomas wasn’t a monster. He did what he had to. Yet what was your excuse? Falling for him?
Your heart started racing. Yes, you were falling for him.
After what seemed like an eternity, you went out of your room, down the stairs and into the living room. You stopped in front of the basement stairs and listened. Thomas was definitely still down there and it was now or never.
In the basement Thomas was still butchering some meat, not hearing you walk in over the sound of his cleaver. He didn’t like you coming there, he always thought you would judge him, mock him even.
“Thomas” you spoke, your voice making him stop with the cleaver still in the air. He lowered it and turned to you, not saying anything.
“It’s late Thomas. Maybe you should call it a day” you spoke softly, almost afraid to startle him.
You didn’t get a response. Then, he just turned around and continued what he was doing.
This made you frown and it hurt a little. Maybe he was not liking you as much as you liked him. Maybe he didn’t like you at all. However this couldn’t be further from the truth. He did like you. A lot. Which is why he was so scared to be around you.
You bit your lip, a little too hard, and decided to approach him. The second your hand touched his arm, Thomas completely froze. His body was incredibly tense and all he managed to do was look at you.
“Did I do something to upset you?” you tilted your head “you always seem to ignore me. I’m sorry if I upset you at all”.
Thomas’s wide widened. You were apologizing to him? What for? You thought he was mad at you? But how could he? He grunted back at you. In the beginning it was very difficult to understand him, but now you could make up the words he was saying. He said no.
“Well then what is it?” you pressed him, gently rubbing his arm. His eyes looked like they could come out of his head, immediately shifting his gaze away from you, almost shaking.
“Thomas, Tommy, oh no” you reached for his other hand which was still tight around the cleaver. Gesturing for him to let it go, you managed to turn him so he’d face you. “You’re ok. Everything is ok” you said, looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. I’m sorry. I will go upstairs” you gave him a bit of a sad smile and turned to walk away. Yet, you didn’t get to take two steps before he stopped you. As you turned to him, he gave you another grunt. Stay. This one meant stay.
Both of you were blushing. Your brave girl facade paled the moment you felt his hand around your arm. Compared to him, you were incredibly tiny and for that, he treated you as if you were made of glass. Because to him, you were.
You stepped in front of him, both of you looking at each other. You learned to be gentle with him, maybe even more gentle than he was with you. Because unlike you, he never had people not be terrified of him.
Smiling, you cupped his face in your hands, which caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop you. For whatever reason, you were here, you didn’t try to run away, and you were kind to him. Before he knew it, he was leaning into your touch.
“Tommy?”
He opened his eyes, waiting for you to continue.
“I really like you, Thomas”
His now open eyes were widened, staring at you, almost looking through you, waiting to see any shred of dishonesty. But there was none. You were genuine. He then couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with you. How could you like him? No. He didn’t care. You liked him. And he was going to take it.
He didn’t realize some time passed without giving you an answer, which caused you to mumble another apology. He, however, didn’t let you finish. You soon found yourself in a hug. A very tight hug. Which you happily reciprocated.
After pulling away, you both looked at each other and without much of a second thought, you pulled the other into a kiss. It was reckless and full of built up frustrations on both parts. You were the first to pull away.
“Thomas.. it’s difficult to kiss you with that mask on”
He didn’t say anything and looked away. He didn’t want to show you. There was finally something he had and showing you his face might ruin it. He grunted a no.
“Please..” you pleaded while cupping his face again.
He damned himself for being so weak around you. You looked sad and a little disappointed. He let out a huge sigh and slowly took off his mask, letting it fall on the floor and completely avoiding your gaze. Whatever disgusted face you made, he didn’t want to see. Only if he looked to see it was not disgust but love.
“Fuck me you’re handsome” was all you said before pulling him in and kissing him again. He looked like a deer in headlights, but quickly melted into your kiss, picking you up and placing you on his workbench.
Your legs were wrapped around him, your hands pulling at his hair while he was tightly holding you by your waist. You felt his erection press against you, so you pushed yourself closer to him, which caused Thomas to grunt and moan into the kiss.
Thomas was the one to pull away this time, spending some time admiring you. Slowly, you started to unbutton his shirt “you can help me with mine if you want” you said a little flustered.
He didn’t need to be told twice. Once you felt his excitement, you knew Thomas was coming out of his shell. Soon enough yours and his shirts were thrown on the floor, and you were making out on the cold and hard workbench. You didn’t care, you also didn’t care that his grips wound leave bruises. You just wanted him. He cupped your breast, gently squeezing, earning himself a moan from you and the confirmation that he is doing it right.
“Please Tommy” you whined between kisses, tugging at his belt.
He wanted to so bad. But what if he hurt you? He had no what what he was doing. But how could he resist you? His whole body was shaking, you were begging him to have sex with you. Him. He pulled away from the kiss and quickly undid his belt and pants, making himself moan as he pulled his cock out. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Thomas naked in front of you. You look off your underwear and pull him into another kiss.
You didn’t think much before starting to palm his length, causing him to moan into your mouth. Thomas started thrusting as you were stroking him. He could cum just like that, but you wanted more. And he did too.
As your back rested on the cold table, Thomas climbed on top of you, neither daring to break the kiss. You couldn’t even wrap your legs around him, a detail he found really cute. He pulled away from the kiss only to look at your expression again. Was this really ok? Is this really what you wanted? You looked so beautiful and so turned on. Rubbing yourself against his erection was all the confirmation he needed before slowly starting to push his cock into you.
Feeling him inside you completely knocked the air out of you, immediately kissing him again, moaning into his mouth. Your figure, your voice, your shaking body were making Thomas go feral. His grunts on the other hand made your whole stomach feel hot. Thomas was thrusting into you, firmly holding your waist with one hand and supporting himself up with the other. Your arms were wrapped around his back, face buried into his neck, trying to muffle your moans.
He was hitting all the right spots, causing your mind to go blank and your nails to dig into his skin. Once his voice became shakier, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Oh fuck…” you moaned and he responded by thrusting even harder. It was almost as if your every moan was making Thomas go more feral.
His rhythm was becoming more erratic, signaling that he was getting closer.
“It ok Tommy” you said between moans “I want you. Fill me up, please Tommy”.
Saying that was enough to push him over the edge. After a few more thrusts he came with a low, guttural moan, completely intoxicated by you.
You were both panting and looking at each other afterward. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Were you a dream? No. You were there, smiling at him. Did that mean you were his now? Yes. Most definitely.
He picked you up off of the table, squeezing you close to him. He was still panting and so were you, yet, both happy and finally content.
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