#Because Agent 3 thought she was a guy for years (literally had the guy hair and uniform because she doesn't like skirts) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mercy-burning · 3 years

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Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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novamirmirsblog · 3 years

Text

K.I.S.S.I.N.G

Word count: 1232

Genre: floofy fluff

Request: No ;3

Warnings: None that I can think of? Lemme know if there is tho :)

Based on this quote even though it has so little to do with the actual story XD - “I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

You were well and truly trapped. The mission had gone south, one bad call after another had led you to where you were presently. It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out. It's why SHIELD had decided to send only you, Natasha, and Wanda - leaving a lower-level agent in charge of the plane. It was a test run for you as you were the newest on the team and a refresher for Wanda, making sure her team skills were up to scratch with Natasha there as a glorified babysitter. The building was supposed to be mostly abandoned, a few HYDRA goons here and there to get target practice in but that was it.

Of course SHIELD had to have sent you in with bad information. This was your time to shine, to perform to the best of your abilities so a certain spy might notice you. Considering you were surrounded by some of the best in the business and a literal mindreader, you were quite proud that your little crush had gone unnoticed. Sure, you couldn't string more than two sentences together when Natasha spoke to you directly but she hopefully just thought you were a social recluse.

"Damn it. Did they not know they don't literally have to be a damned hydra. It's okay for one head to be chopped off and another not grow back." You spoke into your earpiece as you slit another hydra throat.

Chuckles rang back into your ear and for a second you forgot how to breathe. Natasha's gruff bark of laughter was the prettiest thing you'd ever heard.

Oh man. You had it bad.

You had it so bad that you briefly forgot you were behind enemy lines. That was, at least, until a bullet whizzed past your ear. That snapped you out of your daze pretty quickly. Not fast enough for you to dodge the bullet coming straight for your shoulder though. The pain that rippled through you was hot but not as hot as the annoyance of being shot at was. You sent a single bullet straight through the head of the goon who shot you first.

"Guys I've got some good news and some bad news."

"If you've got bullet holes in that new suit, Tony is literally going to kill you." Wanda spoke, her accent softening the words.

"Well, I guess I better start telling you what kind of flower arrangements I'd like for my funeral." You joked as you slowly made it to the extraction point.

"Don't die agent y/l/n"

"Damn. So formal. Lighten up Natty, I won't make you do a speech if you don't want to. I will, however, make sure Wanda mentions that in my final hours, you were so very cold and distant." Apparently being shot at gave you the confidence boost you very much needed in order to actually speak to Natasha.

"Hang on, I remember you literally stabbed Clint's hand when he called you Tashie and he's known you for years."

"Well, Clint wasn't delirious with bloodloss Wanda." A few more shots went off. "Head to the extraction point you two. We got what we came for."

Once we were all on the jet, Natasha started bandaging up your wound, careful not to touch it unnecessarily.

“I know I signed up for this and all, but… if I die, it’s still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you.”

"Wow. Thank you y/n Don't blame the guy who shot you, blame the person trying to fix you up. You know if you would just sit still..."

You suddenly noticed how close you were to Natasha's plump lips. How easy it would be to just lean in slightly and capture them. With that in mind, you subconsciously began to move forward, feeling her lean in too, until a rough patch of turbulence placed some much-needed distance between you two. You could have sworn you heard Wanda mutter damn it but it was probably just your thoughts projecting.

~~~~~

By the time you had made it back to the tower, everyone had heard the news of how Natasha allowed you to live after calling her Natty.

"...even bandaged her up" Steve's voice echoed down the hallway as you, Wanda and Natasha made your way from the mission de-briefing. Maria had wanted you to go straight to medical but you had managed to convince her that not only was the job Natasha did good enough, but that Natasha was quite possibly in the wrong line of work considering her stitching was so good.

As you walked into the main living area, F.R.I.D.A.Y. started to play that "k.i.s.s.i.n.g" song that children sing.

"You are a CHILD TONY STARK!" Natasha shouted out. "I am going to kill him in the most painful ways possible."

"Well did you? Because from the interesting texts a young witch has sent, you came pretty close. " Tony sauntered out from an unknown location, standing in the center of the room with nothing but pyjama bottoms, a housecoat and a glass of what looked like whiskey. What happened next was pretty fast. Natasha launched herself at the billionaire. Steve tried to grab her midair as the whiskey came dangerously close to spilling over the sides of the glass. Natasha slid under Steve's legs and attached herself to Tony, putting him in a chokehold.

"One more word and you won't live to see another day."

You watched this all unfold and suddenly it dawned on you that perhaps the reason an international spy hadn't noticed your crush was because she was too focused on hiding her own.

"You're right you know." Wanda spoke quietly, watching Steve try to pry Natasha off a gasping Tony. "Literally everyone but you two could see that you have feelings for each other. We have bets going on. If you kiss her now, I win." She nudged me towards them with a wink "No pressure though. Although, if you were to help me win the bet, I'd split the money. All I really want are the bragging rites. Unless... that is you want Tony to win?"

You couldn't let Tony win. Over your cold dead body. With determination in your step, you walked over to where the supersoldier was still trying to save a now purple Tony. Natasha looked at you, loosening her hold just a fraction and you leaned in and kissed her. Sure, it was one of the most awkward positions you'd kissed someone in but it was worth it. Natasha let go of Tony instantly but only to wrap her arms around your neck and waist, pulling you deeper. Wanda clapping and whooping pulled the two of you from your trance. Your cheeks were as red as Natasha's hair and even the unflappable Natasha Romanoff was slowly turning the same shade as her hair.

"God damn it y/n You couldn't have waited a week." Tony threw his hands up in exasperation, a teasing look in his eye.

"Of course not. Wands had to win."

"I don't care what this is about. Come on y/n I'm taking you on a proper date. Right after we change out of these clothes." Natasha grabbed me by the hand.

She then stopped abruptly, dropping your hand "That is, if you want to?"

You picked her hand back up, smiling at her "Of course I do."

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff fluff

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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

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clarawatson · 3 years

Text

It Only Takes A Taste (3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: Jack comes for dinner, I guess. W/C: 2345 Warnings: none yet! A/N: this one got a little long, oopsies. AO3 Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

The bed had been so warm and comfortable you hadn't wanted to get out, but the thought of seeing Aaron again made your heart grow three sizes. You'd been texting back and forth for the last couple of days, just small awkward stuff. He likes to text emojis. He's precious. Of course he's precious.

He comes in as you're serving your first customer of the night—a sobbing thirty-year-old man who can't even order his pie without spluttering in tears. Is it favouritism to get excited by Aaron turning up? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes.

"Hello," you smile. There's a hundred things you could have called him, but he's too cute and your brain doesn't want to work.

"Hi," he grins back. "Can I have a coffee, please. Here."

"Yes you can." Aaron splits his bill between the counter and the tip jar. "How was your day, Aaron?"

"Boring paperwork. Couldn't concentrate."

Concern furrows your eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No! I kept thinking about seeing you." There's that sunshine smile again. You might even match it yourself. He points to the cake that's still in the display tin. He's in earlier in the night than usual, so there's a lot more range to choose from. "Is that carrot cake?"

"Sure is. Do you want some?"

"Please."

You serve him a slice and let the coffee machine splutter and fight with you. He stabs his cake with his fork and looks like he has an out of body experience the moment the cream cheese icing hits his tongue. That's a face you want to see again under different circumstances.

"Joe?"

"Me! And Joe's recipe. I sort of mixed it together and prayed."

"Then mark me a religious man." Aaron smiles. You can't held but smile back at him.

"It's a bit early for you to be in," you say. It's not an issue, just means you got the earlier shift. Finishing at 1am instead of 7am. Plus, Aaron looks nice in the daytime. Very nice. The afternoon light suits him.

"Didn't have a case," he shrugs.

You've googled him since getting his business card. “Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, Section Chief of the BAU”. The fuck did that even mean? BAU was the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which was still mainly a mystery, but you think it’s maybe just an over-glorified way of saying ‘they look inside people’s heads and hope for the best’. He’s got a handful of news reports that you’ve practically memorised.

Okay, that’s a little obsessive. Don’t admit that to him.

He wasn’t the ‘untouched by darkness’ that you’d thought of him before, his work face held all the darkness his smile did not. You hoped you never had to see the serious man who stood before the cameras.

“How’s Rita?” Aaron asks. He’s cut the top off his carrot cake, saving it for later. He looks at it longingly every now and then, then he scoops just a little bit of the cream cheese and lets it rest on his tongue.

“She’s good. Restless. She’s happy for the due date to arrive.” She’d also asked you to be the baby’s godparent. Rather forcefully, actually, it had felt a bit strange. That was the only reason you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity. You’d do anything for Rita, but saying yes in that instant would had felt strange. Almost… wrong, maybe.

Aaron knows you’re thinking about it. He puts his fork down and shifts in his chair, waiting for you to continue. He doesn’t fill the silence between the two of you. You think about telling him, but then Lola’s bustling through the door and grabbing her apron.

“Hot stuff, when can I go for a smoke break?” is the first thing Lola says to you. She pulls chewing gum out of her mouth (yes, pulls. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and pulls it out as far as it will go without snapping) and Aaron moves his cake around his plate a bit. Does he not like it? Don’t be silly, he asked for it. Requested it. Whatever. You put his three cookies into a plastic bag and slide it across the counter to him.

“Lola you only just came in.”

“But I want to know,” she whines like she’s a teenager with an after school job, not a thirty-five-year-old woman who works at the diner full time. “Hey, Rita’s been acting weird, right? Is that a pregnancy thing, or?” Lola rubbed her nose on the back of her wrist and sniffs. An action you’re all too familiar with by now, and of course she was doing illegal substances in the bathroom before she started her shift when there’s a legitimate federal agent in the diner.

“Oh,” Lola says as she looks at Aaron. She looks at you, raises her eyebrows, and nods like she’s impressed. “I take back telling Rita she was a liar." Even without knowing the context of Rita and Lola's conversation, you know Rita had told Lola how pretty/handsome/gorgeous Aaron is. "I’m going to go clean some tables.”

She grabs the cleaning supplies and heads out into the dining area. The door swings open, banging against one of the booths, and you’re immensely glad Lola doesn’t scream 'watch it’ at them. A curly haired blonde woman (gorgeous, mind you) touches Aaron’s shoulder and he sits up straight, smiling, and your heart plummets a little bit. Just the tiniest amount.

“Jack insisted we switch over here before I go to parent/teacher interviews.” As if on queue, a well mannered, sandy-haired boy sits next to Aaron and grins too much like Aaron. Aaron’s son. You can put two and two together. Profiler or not.

“How was school?” Aaron asks. Jack shrugs.

“It was school.” He learnt that from his dad, there’s no question.

“Well, in that case. Jack, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Jack.” Jack extends a hand to shake in greeting and looks really shy about it. You shake it quickly so he doesn’t feel like a kid who’s been roped into doing adult things. There’s a pile of colouring-in pages Joe’s printed off at the local library beneath a cup of crayons that Jack’s eyeing off.

You grab a sheet and a crayon, raising an eyebrow in invitation as you turn around to Jack.

“Yes please,” he says, grin growing across his face. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. Wonderful manners.” Jack grins even bigger and you think he, too, might combust just like his dad. Stardust! That’s the movie you were thinking of. When Yvaine sees Tristan she shines, literally, the star inside of her just can’t be contained. That’s Aaron and Jack, and the way they look when they smile.

Aaron’s sister-in-law looks at you with a cocked head, like a curious cat. Like she’s waiting to pounce. But… curiously pounce. Like she's sussing you out. She extends a hand in greeting.

“Jess. Aaron’s talked about you.”

There’s no response but to look sheepish. This seems to greatly please Jess, who smiles softly and rubs the back of Aaron’s head affectionately. They have a long history together, it’s too familial to be just a relationship born through marriage.

“I’ll see you later then, Rockstar,” Jess says.

“Bye,” Aaron and Jack say together. Aaron rests his cheek on his hand, watching you as Lola hands you three orders she’s taken while you’ve been talking to Aaron. Jack leans over and whispers to Aaron about his homework (it’s a whisper that belongs on a stage) as you wrestle with the coffee machine.

It’s been grinding it’s way down to not working for a while now. Ever since you met Aaron, actually. Joe’s said he’s going to fix it, or get a new one, but everyone’s in a state of non-commital until Rita has her baby.You’ve got no idea why, it’s just the way things are. Good luck, maybe? Or luck in general?

Somehow you get Aaron talking about Shakespeare. It might have been Jack’s doing, to be completely honest, but one moment you’re trying to make the froth… well, froth… and the next you're listening to Aaron talk animatedly about Othello. Jack's young enough to not think his Dad's passion is embarrassing.

"Have you watched Othello?" Jack asks, a question that Aaron's neglected to ask you. "I'm not old enough to yet."

"I haven't seen that one yet, but I've seen Much Ado About Nothing."

"Is that the one with the olive gardens?" Jack asks. Aaron frowns, eyes searching for the answer in that big beautiful minds tonight.

"Yes," he says finally. "That was the one with the olive trees."

Jack giggles. "There was kissing in that movie."

"Lots of it," Aaron agrees. You're not sure you're talking about the same film, but it's cute to see the two of them interact.

"With the guy who plays Lockhart in the second Harry Potter movie?" You ask. Jack laughs just like his father. It's all light and mirth. He nods in confirmation.

"His name is Kenneth," Jack says like he's familiar with him. When Aaron smiles, you know Jack's his whole world.

It’s not long before Aaron realised he’d brought Jack in without asking if he wanted anything. The afternoon rush had died down, leaving you in the space between out-of-work and dinner. You make the most chocolate-y hot chocolate you can for Jack when Aaron says he can have one. Well, Jack says the best bit is the froth, so it’s more child-size-hot-chocolate-in-an-adult-mug-full-of-froth. Jack loves it. He slurps at the chocolate, which leaves a giant frothy mustache over his top lip that won’t go away no matter how much he licks at it.

When he’s done you let him come around to the kitchen to wash his face, because no amount of wet napkins is going to fix that mess. Jack can’t reach the sink, so you fashion a step out of old milk and bread crates. Joe gives him cake batter to taste before realising that he actually has no idea who Jack is. Aaron watches from the kitchen door with a smile on his face. You don’t catch it until Jack jumps off the crates and takes your hand, leading you back out. Aaron’s fingers brush your hand as you pass him. Electricity sparks between the two of you that's completely unavoidable. The two of you recoil involuntarily.

Aaron gives you a small smile of apology. You give exactly the same one back. Lola legitimately gasps like she too felt the electricity between the two of you. Surely that was just something that happened in movies? Or in books? That’s not a real thing, right? But Aaron brushes past you again, as if he’s making sure as well, and it’s there again. Only it’s like your whole arm becomes pins and needles, not just a quick lightning spark.

If it’s like that every time you’re with him, your not sure you could even go beyond lusting after him and giving him coffee and meals every now and then. Aaron drops his gaze, then follows Jack to the front of the counter.

They stay for dinner (because Jack insists, he wants the nachos) but the rush comes early and there’s really not much time to talk to them, so you almost miss them leaving. Almost. You’re serving the angry couple at table three (are they angry at you, or each other? Who knows, you don’t, but they’re taking it out on you) when Jack taps your hip.

He’s very patient as you finish the order (somehow you figure out what they want between the curse words) and bend down to him. He hands you a folded piece of paper.

“This is for you,” he says. “I did it.” You’re about to unfold it, but he insists that it belongs in your apron pocket until you can look at it with no rush. That’s a kid who knows what it’s like to have a very busy parent. So you tuck it away safely and mess with his hair, which makes him grin from ear to ear.

“See you later!” Jack yells as he runs to Aaron, who’s waving goodbye with a doggy bag full of Jack’s unfinished dinner.and his keys between his fingers.

“I’ll see you later,” he mouths as the noise in the diner starts to rise. Without thinking you blow him a kiss, which he catches effortlessly and kisses the fist closed around it before slipping out.

When you get to the kitchen Lola’s already in the midst of teasing you.

“You like him,” she says with all the confidence in the world. There’s not point denying her, so you just nod. It’s met by a chorus of ‘ooo’s which, to be honest, you really didn’t need. It made the diner feel far too small.

When everything dies down you remember the paper Jack had given you. You wipe the milk and spaghetti sauce off the counter, then make sure it’s dry, and unfold Jack’s page. It’s the generic colouring page Joe’s printed out, but Jack’s tried to make the generic waitress look like you. Well, you if you had purple hair and green skin. It’s a start, you guess, there’s an apology from Aaron on the back. Makes it worth it.

You move a couple of postcards on the corkboard aside and put Jack’s picture there instead. Joe pretends not to notice, but when Lola goes out the back with one of her customers, Joe comes round the front and presses a finger to the page.

“Good kid,” Joe says. He nods a couple of times then turns to you. “You know he and his dad come as a package, right? You fuck up one, you fuck up both.” Joe’s first wife had three kids that weren’t biologically his. He’s still mad at himself for not taking the kids seriously and only turning up for their mom.

“I know,” you say.

Joe strokes your cheek as he passes and kisses your forehead. It’s all the praise you need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#It Only Takes a Taste #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #Diner!AU

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Note

Ok awesome so I kinda want an angsty young to present thing with hotch and the reader? (If that even makes sense) Like hotch was a bit older than her but they went to law school together? And she was always sorta bratty and sneaky but he loved her anyway? And like a past scene with him bailing her out of jail because she got in a fight and then present she gets mad at the unsub and he has to 🌌discipline🌌 her? Sorry if you don't understand or don't want to do it, and thank you for your time!

Let’s Do It Again

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: Fem!reader, cursing, use of the word “slut”, mentions of prostitution, being in jail, illusions of sex/hooking up, a little steamy making out.

Category: Angst

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Hopefully I've written it the way you liked hun!

*Bolded Italics are flashbacks*

----

15 years ago.

That’s when you met Aaron Hotchner. He only had a year left of law school while you had just started that year. He was the TA in your ethics of justice class, he always left snarky remarks on your papers even if you got an A. You were tired of his sarcasm so you went to go see him.

“Come in” he called from the other side of the door. You walked in and shut the door behind you,

“Y/n, what can I-”

“What’s your problem ?”

He looked up and nodded towards the chair in front of his desk, you sat down. “Is something wrong?” he asked, tapping his pen on the inside of his palm. “What’s with the comments on my papers? There’s literally nothing wrong with them. You give me an A and then write about how I haven't figured out how to write it properly. How does that make sense?” Aaron laughed.

Is this guy seriously fucking laughing right now ?

“I wondered how long it would take for you to come see me. The first time was a mistake, I thought your paper was Mr. Shelby’s and I meant to scribble it out but I forgot. When I saw your face, I had to keep doing it. It was too funny not too” He told you. You weren't sure if you should laugh or be embarrassed, you just yelled at your TA because he made a mistake.

“Okay well.. stop that shit” you picked up your bag and walked out before he could say anything else to you.

From that day on, you and Aaron developed a strange friendship. You fought constantly but you supported and helped each other whenever you could.

The two of you worked together at the BAU. He was the unit chief and your name was up for a position on the team. You had forgotten that you applied, but when you got the call, you accepted the position without even questioning it or asking for details.

You walked in on your first day to be greeted by a brightly dressed woman. “Oh! You must be y/n! I've heard so much about you!” She gushed as she walked you up to the unit chief’s office. She introduced herself as Penelope, you automatically knew you’d like her.

“Really ?” you looked at her, “from who?” you asked.

“Well, the boss man of course!” She walked you to the door, knocking on it before opening it. The name on the door read Aaron Hotchner

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Aaron was going to be your new boss ? You’re in for a hell of a ride.

“Sir, the new agent is here” she smiled, letting you step in before stepping out herself. “Y/n, good to see you again” He smiled at you from his desk. “Aaron” you nodded before sitting on his desk. “Still hate chairs huh?” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes.

You were in his office watching him mark papers. You wanted to see your mark before you left for the holidays so he told you to come with him and that he would mark yours first. You paced back and forth in his office, moving things around and flipping through the other papers.

“These suck major balls. I feel bad that you’ve got to mark these”

“Yeah, yours is the worst.”

The two of you chuckled. “Can you sit down? I can’t focus with you moving around constantly” you rolled your eyes at him “yeah whatever”

You moved your bag off the chair and went to sit down

“y/n! not there!”

Your ass had already hit the floor, “WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!”

“Yeah, that chair is broken” he said, trying to hold back his laughter. “Fuck you Aaron” you rolled your eyes, laying back on the floor. “I know you want too but this isn't the time darling”

His eyes were on the paper, he couldn't see the blush his words brought to your face.

-----

3 weeks into your job at the BAU and you’re undercover at the bar. You just happened to fit the unsub’s type and somehow Hotch convinced you to go undercover. You’re sitting at the bar flirting with the unsub when he asks you to join him in the bathroom. You mentally groaned, you glanced over at Derek who gave you a nod before you walked off.

You were in the hallway with him, he walked past the bathroom door. “Hey, you passed the bathroom” you shouted to him, he tugged on your arm and pulled you out the backdoor. You really hoped that Derek and Aaron were out there.

“F.BI! Put your hands up!” Aaron shouted as Derek tackled him. You stepped over to Spencer who had a jacket waiting for you, “thank you bubba” you smiled at him as he held the jacket for you to put on. Aaron glanced over to you when you called Spencer bubba

Back at the station, you were sitting at the desk as Derek pushed the unsub into the interrogation room.

“You’re up” Aaron looked at you,

“Didn’t I do enough tonight ?” you got up and walked to the room.

“Hello beautiful” the unsub smiled at you, you pushed back the urge to throw up. “It’s actually agent l/n” you said as you sat down, he nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. You're too pretty to go to a bar dressed like a slut”

“Tell me something” you looked over at him

“Anything darling” he leaned forward.

“Why’d you do it? They were innocent” he sat there for a minute, taking in what you said. “They were worth nothing, selling their bodies and for what? They’re nothing but a bunch of sluts” he spat. You nodded and chuckled, “what’s so funny agent?” he looked up at you.

“Just like your momma right?” you asked him, he looked at you confused.

“Oh you didn’t know? All those nights where she left you to go to work, she was, what did you say? oh yes “selling their bodies and worth nothing” Do you know what I think ? I think that you’re just a sexist son of a bitch that isn’t worth the air he breathes” you smiled at him sweetly before getting up. His face was expressionless, “You’re just like them too agent l/n, a slut that’s worth nothing. I’m sure you only got your position by sleeping with someone”

You were tired and angry, you weren’t in the mood for his shit. “Shut up” you mumbled. “Oh did I hit a nerve agent ? Why don’t you go relieve some stress with agent Hotchner ?” You looked up at him.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me agent”

You couldn’t handle his attitude, you picked up the chair and threw it at him. Aaron walked in “enough. y/n, get out” you rolled your eyes and pushed passed Aaron.

You had been helping Spencer pack up the evidence boxes. “I’ve got it bubba, go get something to eat. I’ll put these away and come join you.” you picked up the box from the table, “are you sure?” Spencer asked you before picking up his jacket, you nodded and walked out of the conference room and into the storage room.

“Y/n, what the hell was that?” Aaron asked you as he walked into the storage room, shutting the door behind him. “What the hell was what?” you asked, pushing the boxes up onto the shelf, “you know exactly what I'm talking about, this is exactly why I had to bail you out years ago”

---

“I want my phone call!” you shouted at the cops, “I know my rights! I’m a lawyer!” They didn’t listen to you, so you did the logical thing and kept yelling. Eventually, they got fed up of your yelling so they let you have your phone call. You called Aaron even though you knew he’d be pissed. You were sitting in the holding cell for what felt like eternity, “L/n! bail’s been posted” the cop called as you stood up.

“Hey Hotch” you smiled at him, your heels were in your hands and your hair was a mess. To be completely honest, you were still kinda tipsy but you weren’t going to tell him that. “Stop smiling, let’s go y/n” he took your shoes from you and walked towards the door, opening it for you.

“Okay grumpy pants, I'm going” you walked to his car, getting in and making yourself comfortable, not before grabbing the sweater he had on his backseat. He tossed your shoes into the back of the car

“Hey! Those are red bottoms, be careful!”

“I don’t care” he grumbled as he started driving.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” you asked him

“Y/n, it’s 4:36 in the fucking morning and I had to come bail you out of jail because you threw a chair at someone. I’m sorry if I'm not in the mood to talk”

You glanced at the clock in his car, you didn’t realize that it was already morning. “How much was bail?” you mumbled, looking out the window.

“2 grand” he kept driving.

“WHAT! I DIDN’T EVEN HIT HIM!” you shouted, your head whipping around so fast you probably gave yourself whiplash.

“Stop yelling. I only paid a grand. I pulled some strings so you own me.”

----

You chuckled when he brought up that he bailed you out all those years ago.

“If I remember correctly, I paired you back didn't I?”

“That isn’t the point y/n. What you did in there was wrong, you can’t lose your cool like that.”

You rolled your eyes again. Aaron always had that effect on you, a constant state of eye rolling. “Stop that” he stepped closer to you, you took a step back, your back was against the shelves. “Stop what?” you knew he was talking about your eye rolling, he had always hated it. You love to do it whenever he filled in for the professor, you hated when he taught. He took forever and never let you leave early.

“Don’t roll your eyes,” he whispered. His lips pressed right to your ear, his cheek against yours.

“Make me stop” you challenged him.

He just chuckled “you really don't want to see what I can make you do”

“Maybe I do” your hands made their way to his hair, tugging on the back of it.

He kissed you, it was rough and needy. His hands were all over you, the two of you wanted this, you needed this but you were both too stubborn to say anything. He grabbed your ass and squeezed hard enough to leave a small bruise, his lips attached to your neck sucking on your sweet spot.

You and Aaron had always had a connection between you guys, it was more than sexual. You genuinely cared about each other, the sexual attraction was just a plus.

30 minutes had passed and the two of you were still in there. The top button of your shirt had come off with Aaron’s tugging, you could see all the hickeys Aaron left on your neck down to your breast. His hair was a mess with a few hickeys on his neck too. There was no denying that you two had just had sex, it was so obvious. Even if you came out at separate times, the team would figure it out.

“Well, that was fun” you ran your hand through his hair, trying to settle it from all your pulling.

“It was” he gave you a small kiss.

“Let’s do it again sometime ?” You smiled at him before walking out and shutting the door.

----

tagging: @iconicc cause she was super excited

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daisybeewrites · 3 years

Text

Academy Blues — Prologue

word count: 1.8k

warnings: not any for this chapter

ship: Dousy, background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

okay y’all.. here it is. the first installment of my first LONG TERM SERIES!!!!!! ahhhh i’m so excited. literally i cant wait to continue this and see where it takes me. i have an idea and a few different planning sheets, but honestly i have no idea where exactly this will end up. i love each and single one of you <3 thank you for reading!! this is also posted on Ao3, and linked in the masterlist.

Daisy hated the sound of the bells at The Academy. Screeching, awful, way too loud, the bells were the bane of her existence. They all wore standard-issue watches from the lab that monitored vitals and gave them reminders, and also told the time, for god’s sake! Fitz had even modified hers so that she could play snake on the tiny watch face! There was no need for the bells to be so excruciatingly disruptive. Though, Daisy guessed, there were many things more tortuous than bells ringing every hour and fifteen minutes.

Daisy slowed to a jog, cutting her morning run short. The bright side to being a third-year was that you chose your schedule, for the most part, and that meant Daisy had a free first period for four out of five days of classes. She usually spent this free period getting an extra hour in at the gym, boxing or sparring with Mack or Bobbi, two fourth years that had reluctantly taken her under their wings, or sleeping in. She reserved sleeping in for especially rough nights where visions of ashes and earthquakes and lightning returned time and time again, no matter how many deep breaths she took or sheep she counted.

But this morning was not one of those mornings. She had been up before sunrise, a little before her usual alarm and silently headed out of her dorm for a run. It was humid this time of year on most Virginia mornings, but never so hot that it made Daisy feel as if she was being smothered. The cooler air chilled her sweaty skin, her chest rising and falling as she jogged up the three flights of steps to the second years’ dorms. Down one long hallway, and she arrived at her room.

Daisy had been given her own room at the start of last year, complete with poly-adaptic-proto-whatever panels, which she had painted a pastel shade of purple, to compliment the greens of her cacti and the dark purples and blacks of everything else in her room. Even May had agreed that the stark white was too ”psych wing” for a bedroom. Daisy was grateful for the space, but considering the panels and the private room were only necessary since...

She shuddered. Grabbing her shower caddy, Daisy set off to the bathroom at the opposite end of the hall, hoping no one else was spending a free first period at the dorms.

Her shoulder-length waves were wet from bouncing against her neck, and starting to become annoying now that the sweat had dried and was starting to itch. Picking the white tiled shower furthest away from the door, Daisy quickly turned the water on, checked the temperature, pulled her sports bra and shorts off and hopped into the shower. Shampoo, condition, soap body, rinse. Checking her watch, Daisy found that she had showered in record time, less than three minutes. After spending another five just enjoying the hot water, she hopped out and changed into her class clothes.

Dark purple leggings, Coulson’s grey vintage SHIELD tee and a pair of white running sneakers she had “borrowed” from Jemma completed her look. Passing the mirrors, Daisy tried not to glance at herself. If her hair was messy or her undereye bags a bit too dark, she didn’t want to know. Instead, she headed back to her room to pack her bag for the day.

SHIELD-issued laptop, extra hard drives and a charger, Advanced CS 3: Ethical Hacking: Theory and Application, Advanced CS 4: Secrets of The Coding Languages, Physics notebook, an essay that was three days late on some boring book about international laws, and her sparring gear were all thrown into the black bag. She gave a second glance at the Russian notebooks Bobbi had loaned to her, promising that she’d learn without taking the class. Oh well, she still had all of this term to start. Plus, would she ever really need more than the dirty words?

One look at the alarm clock that sat on her dark hardwood night table showed that she still had almost forty-five minutes before she had to be in the computer lab. Sitting down on her bed, Daisy ran a hand over the grey blanket May had given her.

Daisy’s relationship with May and Coulson had been something of a problem with other students when she first got here. Some had been okay with the obvious paternal love Coulson showed for Daisy, showing her around and checking up on her, scheduling lunch dates and reminding her of tests. May was more subtle, texting her links to tai chi videos when she noticed Daisy getting too stressed or letting Daisy do her own thing if she saw that she was overwhelmed. Of course, none of the other students knew her family history, what she had gone through just to realize that May and Coulson were more her parents than her biological father and mother could ever be. She would see them later today—May during field training and Coulson in between lectures in the canteen.

Daisy walked over to her window to open her blinds, staring out at the campus she had grown to love. The large brick buildings scattered around acres of the Virginia countryside; green fields meant for physical activities like sparring or obstacle courses, or simply basking in the weather to study or chat; the dorms—red brick and concrete melded together to upgrade and expand the charming style of previously-built homes.

Grabbing a protein bar, Daisy headed to the canteen to make a green smoothie (and maybe snatch a cup of joe before she had to listen to an hour-long lecture on the reason SHIELD must cooperate with the UN’s stupid rules at 7:30 in the morning). Smelling the pines and morning dew surrounding her, she smiled slightly. Maybe this term wouldn’t be so bad.

———————————————————————

Daniel Sousa was a man of honor. He was a man of great strength. Agent Daniel Sousa, previously Officer Daniel Sousa in the US Army, was a man who could fix his damn alarm clock on his own.

Just, not today. Or the day before.

So, Agent Daniel Sousa was now hurrying his way to class at The SHIELD Academy, books in hand and gym bag slung over his shoulders. Catching a glance at himself in the shiny glass doors of the bio-chem building, he groaned. He hadn’t even brushed his hair. And, looking down, he discovered he was wearing two different shoes.

This is the college experience everyone raves about, he thought bitterly. You see, Daniel Sousa had enlisted to the army straight out of high school, forgoing university. He climbed the ranks impressively quickly, earning his place as second-in-command and reconnaissance scout in the 28th Infantry Regiment. Unfortunately, after only four years in the army, Sousa was injured in the field, losing his leg and almost his life.

He came back to the US a war hero, and yet, he felt he wasn't finished. So, when a recruiter named Peggy Carter knocked on his door claiming to be from SHIELD (“Wow, you guys are still a thing?”), he leapt at the chance to continue fighti-...doing good. The Academy wasn’t exactly what he had bargained for, though. Trying to earn his B.A. and training to be an agent at the same time was grueling, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.

No, six different one hour and fifteen minute long classes plus mandatory physical therapy every day wasn’t going to break him. Learning how to be a communications agent and re-starting field training and catching up on general college education was no problem. Pressuring himself to be the best, to break the limits, to get past all his weaknesses was just another miniscule feather to add to the pile.

Unless his stupid alarm clock broke. Then yes, Agent Daniel Sousa would fail, buckle under the weight and be left on the floor to die.

Maybe he was being a bit dramatic.

One bunny-slippered right foot and a sneakered left leg carried him forward, propelled by a quickly chugged orange Celsius and his sheer will not to be late.

Daniel heard the late bell ring out, understanding that, on his first day of class, he would be counted late. It wasn’t like him, not at all. Especially when his first class was a refresher course on field tactics and covert strategy, something in which he was already aces.

He let out a sigh, slowing as he rounded the corner into the comms building. At the Academy, most buildings were grouped into categories: the cafeteria, gym and pool, and student resource building all to the south; the gun range, obstacle course, and specialized gym to the east; bio-chem labs, tech labs, and smaller rooms for lectures to the west; the computer labs and comms buildings right smack in the middle; and dorms to the north.

He swiped a key card with his driver’s license picture and student ID, unlocking the sliding doors that led to the computer labs. It was quicker to short cut through them than to walk around the building to the entrance closest to communications classrooms.

It wasn’t because he knew a certain broody brunette spent her mornings in the lab.

No, it wasn’t, because she wasn’t in her usual seat in the corner, typing away.

He slowly walked through the rows of computers, searching for a familiar black backpack. Nothing was there.

“Hey, Sousa,” an accented female voice called behind him. He whipped around to see who it was, feeling just a twinge of disappointment when Elena, or, as most people knew her, Yo-Yo, was leaning against the door frame. Yo-Yo, a fourth year operations trainee, who was very close with Daisy.

“Hey, Yo-Yo. Good morning,” he called, “I’m running a bit late.”

Elena checked her nails casually, “Way to state the obvious. You were running faster than I could trying to get here before the bell.”

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “Yeah…”

“Daisy’s running late today, too.”

Daniel looked around, pretending that hearing Daisy’s name didn’t make him want to smile. “Oh, of course. She’s usually here early.”

Elena nodded, chuckling a little at his response. She couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or just a bad liar. It was charming, really. “Right. See ya ‘round, Sousa!”

“See ya,” He replied. He thought he heard a quiet ‘Lovable nerds’ coming from the direction she left, but he couldn’t be sure.

And so, with a last look around the computer lab, Daniel set off to arrive late to May’s lecture.

———————————————————————

okay okay,,, what do y’all think?? like/reblog and let me know! it’s the best way to support writers and it only takes a second! stay tuned for more chapters!!

#academy blues #daisy johnson #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#dousy #daisy johnson x daniel sousa #timequake #daniel sousa #jemma simmons #leo fitz #fitzsimmons #philinda #philindaisy #ashby’s fics #marvels aos #au!

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detective-grey · 3 years

Text

pumpkin patches and broken things

part 3 of "Wayhaven Frights - Connections" prompt "Harvest"

pairing: detective alexis "lex" crawford and adam du mortain

rating: t

summary: Lex has a thing for pumpkin patches and Adam has a thing for broken things.

read on ao3

The cool autumn wind brushed against her cheeks, lifting a few strands of mousy brown hair away from her face and dancing them through the breeze. The air smelled faintly of burnt wood and decay, that cold familiar scent that usually reminded one of late night bonfires, jewel colored leaves falling to the ground, hot ciders and mulled wines. A reminder of the end of a cycle, the buds of spring and the blooms of summer giving way to the harvests of fall and eventually the barren fields of winter.

The sky was that particular shade of icy blue that somehow only made an appearance in October and suddenly vanished once the grey tones of December spread through the atmosphere. Every now and then thin white clouds stretched their boney fingers across the sky, blocking out the false Sun that shone but offered no heat, and the shadows of late birds migrating south for the year dotted the ground.

Detective Alexis Crawford shoved her hands further into the pockets of her dark leather jacket and took a deep breath, enjoying the sting of the cool air in her throat. She closed her eyes and allowed herself this moment, this one singular moment of peace and quiet and-

“There you are!”

She flinched at the sudden noise, then kicked herself for her weakness.

She turned to find Unit Bravo walking towards her at varying strides. Farah led the pack in excitement, her golden eyes so at home in the late afternoon sun. She waved at Lex who made no effort to move in their direction but nodded at the motion. Nate trailed after Farah, his easy smile in place and his dark green jacket zipped up for the first time since Lex had known him. Morgan meandered behind everyone, somehow finding shadows to hide in even on the mostly vacant path, smoke from her lit cigarette twisting around her face.

Lex’s attention of course went straight to the actual leader of the group walking in the middle with an expression reminiscent of a frozen lake, calm ice on the surface with something deeper and more intense beneath. Adam had donned a black peacoat that accentuated his broad frame and squared shoulders, the dark fabric in stark contrast to his pale green eyes and blond hair. She told herself she noticed these things because it was her job to pay attention to details.

That she noticed the way his muscles rippled under the sleeves of his coat, however…

“See something ya like?”

Lex shifted her gaze to where Farah now stood next to her, watching with that annoyingly knowing smile. She rolled her eyes, causing Farah to burst into laughter as the others caught up.

“You guys are late,” she said, only somewhat trying to keep the annoyance she felt from lacing itself through her words. “How that’s possible given the fact that you literally have super speed, I’ll never know.”

“Blame that one,” Morgan accused, nodding her head in Farah’s direction.

“What? I just wanted to make sure I put on the proper clothes! I’ve never been to a pumpkin patch before, there were literally hundreds of options for me to sort through,” Farah explained, twirling around to show off her plaid skirt she had paired with wool leggings, boots, and a cardigan. She had a scarf wrapped around her neck as usual, though this one was a deep crimson red that matched the pattern of her skirt.

“It’s not really that big a deal, they’re just pumpkins,” Lex mumbled, turning to walk towards the entrance to the field where a few other Wayhaven residents stood waiting to gain access.

She hadn’t meant to mention her plan for the weekend to them, and she certainly hadn’t been prepared for everyone to come along. She didn’t consider herself to exactly be a “traditions” type of person, but for some damn reason she found herself back at this pumpkin patch at the beginning of October every year to find a stupidly large pumpkin to take home and carve. She made a whole day of it, usually spending an hour or two scouring the field for the perfect specimen before taking it home, cracking open a few beers (or whiskey, depending on the week), and taking a knife to the thing. She never claimed the title of “Artist” or “Supreme Pumpkin Carver”, indeed her designs and faces would never win any contests, but she found catharsis in the way she cleaned out the seeds, traced her patterns, cut into them with repetitive motions.

There was something to be said about the comfort she found in repeatedly stabbing something over and over, but she never lingered too longly on the thought.

Farah babbled excitedly as they walked towards the vendor. Lex fell into step beside Adam without even realizing it until his voice broke her concentration.

“Detective.”

She looked over at him, having to tilt her chin slightly up to meet his eyes.

“Agent,” she replied, matching his neutral tone.

After giving her a once over and seeming to be satisfied, Adam turned to face forward again and didn’t say another word. Lex knew better than to hold her breath expecting more from him, but for some reason the lack of so much as a “how are you?” stung. Annoyingly so.

She never quite knew where she stood with Adam. Most of the time she couldn’t stand the man, they fought each other tooth and nail on almost every single mission they went on, neither wanting to relinquish control over any situation. She loathed his arrogance, hated the way others automatically deferred to him for command like it was owed to him, meanwhile she’d had to fight her whole life for the scrap of command she held. Once, on a night that they’d spared one another more wounds to their respective prides, he had told her of his station in his previous life as the son of a noble. He had been born into power and he carried it well.

She envied and admired him for it. Both things she hated but couldn’t bury deep enough to forget.

There were other things, though. Things she genuinely appreciated about him. She understood his innate need to protect those he cared about, but the intensity with which he upheld that responsibility continued to surprise her. Never had she known someone with such ferocious loyalty paired with a cynical realism that rivaled her own. She even respected his physical prowess and intimidating presence, things that didn’t particularly phase her but that she could appreciate. Especially as she watched him move, a soldier groomed and transformed into the perfect predator. She should be afraid of him, terrified. And she was.

The feelings that had been stirring and building like kindling that would set fire and consume her terrified her more than anything she’d ever known.

“Detective Crawford! Always a pleasure to see you,” Terry, the owner of the pumpkin patch, called out as they made their way to the front of the line. He had to have been in his late sixties, and he’d been running this business every year for as long as Lex could remember. He’d always been kind to her, as a kid he’d let her get her pick of the field and never charged her anything.

“Hey,” Lex responded, nodding in his direction. She pulled her wallet out of her jacket pocket to pay the entrance fees for everyone as the owner continued.

“I see you brought them fancy agents with you this year, so glad to have you,” he continued, smiling genuinely at Unit Bravo, his eyes twinkling behind his large rimmed glasses. He caught sight of Lex pulling money out of her wallet and shook his head. “Absolutely not, Detective, I won’t see you pay another cent. Not after you’ve solved all those big cases recently.”

Had she more grace she might have blushed. Instead, she straightened her back and jutted her chin forward in what she could only hope would be seen as respectful defiance. “I can’t accept that, Terry. I will pay like everyone else, I’m no different nor more special than anyone.”

Morgan’s eye roll and Nate’s appreciative smile both irritated her, but she tried her best to ignore them. She laid a couple of bills on the table in front of Terry and thanked him before he could say anything else. He shook his head with an exasperated smile but waved them on through the entrance to the field.

Farah immediately began asking a million questions. “Which ones are the best ones?” “Do you think I should get a big one or a small one?” “What kind do you usually get?” “I didn’t know there were different colors, which ones carve better?”

Lex never counted patience as one of her greatest virtues and as much as she genuinely liked Farah and found at least some small appreciation for her...perkiness, she found herself just barely clinging on to whatever patience she actually did have.

Nate must have been a saint in another life because as if he could sense the calmness withering away in Lex, he pulled Farah down a far off lane in search of her very own pumpkin.

“Did you have any questions,” Lex asked Morgan probably more roughly than she should have, but Morgan could take it. She simply blew a puff of smoke towards Lex then turned and followed the other two.

Without bothering to look and see if he’d follow, Lex walked off in the opposite direction of the others and away from Adam.

“Are you angry at us for coming?”

He kept pace beside her as she carefully stepped over vines and divots in the hard dirt beneath their feet. There were a few other families out and about in the field, children running and laughing, parents bent over to pull pumpkins up, couples holding hands. She subconsciously looked over to watch Adam’s hands, casually swaying by his sides, before looking up to meet his eyes.

“Why do you ask?”

A somewhat bemused smile played at his lips. “Not that you ever give the warmest of greetings, but you haven’t exactly expressed much joy in seeing us today.”

“Oh.”

She tried to focus her attention on finding a goddamn pumpkin but how could she be expected to think about anything other than the fact that they were walking through a field on a nice day? Together? Or at least next to each other in a not-completely-hostile way?

“Detective, I-”

She rounded on him. “Look, far be it from me to prevent you all from picking a stupid pumpkin to take back to the warehouse and decorate or cook or what the fuck ever. I’m not mad that you guys came, in fact I think it’s smart for the people of Wayhaven to see you all out doing normal people things but please, just don’t bother me while I’m doing this.”

His eyes hardened. “If you didn’t want us here, you could have simply told us.”

She huffed and wanted to stomp her feet in frustration. Another thing she hated about him: he constantly made her feel everything so much more intensely.

“It’s not,” she took a breath and clenched her fingers into fists for a moment before breathing out and releasing some tension. “It’s not that I don’t want you here, I do. Want all of you, I mean. I mean I want you guys all here, with me.” Another breath. “Can we just find a pumpkin please?”

Lex turned away before he could reply and kept her eyes downcast. She could feel the moment he had caught up with her, matching her strides yet keeping enough distance to allow her the illusion of her own space. They continued on like that for several minutes, every now and then stopping to inspect one pumpkin or another.

“Rebecca and I used to come here every year.”

If she’d startled him with the willingness to give information, he hid it well. She for sure startled herself, even more so as she kept going.

“It’s no surprise she wasn’t exactly Mother of the Year, but one thing I could always rely on her for was taking me to pick a fucking pumpkin and then taking it home to carve. She stopped when I was about fourteen, too old for pumpkin picking I guess, but...I don’t know, I’d gotten so used to doing it every year that I just kept coming.”

Whether he felt her admission didn’t dignify a response or he just didn’t know what to say, Lex couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that he stayed silent for a while, maybe processing the information, maybe figuring out how best to respond. Maybe even just giving her the space to talk and say more if she so chose. She definitely wouldn’t, that she had already told him as much as she had mortified her. No, instead she again attempted to turn her attention to the field hoping to find anything at this point.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to keep traditions to yourself, especially ones as,” he paused, “intimate as this one.”

She scoffed. “Digging in the dirt is your idea of intimacy, Agent?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Hardly.”

They watched each other for a moment and then his eyes flicked up to the sky. “We might want to hurry this along.”

“Why,” she asked before following his gaze and finding massive dark grey clouds rolling in. They began swallowing the blue sky and in the distance she could hear the faint low rumble of thunder. “I don’t remember hearing anything about rain.”

“I doubt the weather would discuss its plans with you before changing, Detective.”

She rolled her eyes but followed him with renewed energy knowing that their time ran short now with the threat of a storm looming overhead. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Farah hoisting what must have been the largest pumpkin in the field into her arms and running back to the entrance with glee. Nate had found himself a medium-sized, perfectly round and spotless one that he kept in the crook of his elbow as he followed behind her. As far as Lex could tell, Morgan seemed content to simply smoke and make a snide remark here and there.

“What about this one?”

She swiveled back to him and when she saw his chosen specimen, she crossed her arms and looked at him incredulously.

"Seriously? There are literally hundreds of others in this field, why the fuck is that the one you pick," she asked dryly.

He shrugged. "I like this one."

Adam had pointed to a small, unassuming pumpkin that had almost been completely camouflaged by the leaves and vines of its neighbors. There wasn’t anything particularly special about it, in fact as far as Lex could tell it was one of the ugliest ones in the whole patch, discolored with spots of damage dotting its surface and roughing its edges.

But Adam had seen some sort of value in it, he had chosen it, so maybe it was worth something…

“Fine, sure, grab it so we can get out of here.”

She turned on her heels to leave, but felt a hand on her shoulder. She fought her initial instinct to break the hand and instead looked back at him. The look he gave her threatened to pull her in as the Moon pulled the tides.

“Alexis, I-”

He shook his head as if waking from a dream then removed his hand.

“I wanted to thank you for sharing this with us. I know the others have enjoyed the day so far and are looking forward to the other activities we have planned.”

She stared at him, taking in every detail, every line of his face and every stitch of his coat. For some reason she wanted to remember this moment, the moment where she realized that Adam had a thing for choosing broken things. After saving the mental picture and framing it in the back of her mind, she simply said, “just harvest the pumpkin, Adam.”

#wayhaven frights #the wayhaven chronicles #detective lex crawford #adam du mortain

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facets-and-rainbows · 4 years

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Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities. Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

#blue exorcist #interview #Ao no Exorcist #translation

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thinking1bee · 3 years

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Cheated Part 2

Requested By Anonymous

Pairings: Lena Luthor X Reader

Tags: ANGST, Violence, Blood, Humor, Some smut, Flashbacks, Fluff, Explicit Language

Taglist: @owloftheshadows

*** Lena Luthor: 3 years later***

The last 3 years with Lena had been amazing. There were definitely ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You knew Lena could love, but you didn’t know that she could love hard. The depths of her, the pieces that everyone else didn’t get to see, she usually kept buried. Even with you, it took several months for Lena to let her walls down around you. You knew her family history. You knew that she struggled to trust, so now that you had it, you would do everything in your power to protect it. Beneath the cold exterior that surrounded Lena like a second skin, was a hurt woman who wanted to love and be loved. She wanted to experience as much acceptance as anybody else in a family, and as the black sheep of the Luthor clan, that never happened. You wanted to give Lena all of that love, you wanted her to be happy, you wanted what she wanted.

Now, you were cuddled with her on the couch, watching the live action Grinch movie, while you were both in comfortable sweats, and a bowl of popcorn nestled between your legs for easy access. Lena didn’t understand this movie, and she understood your fascination with it even less, but she never passed a chance to make you happy.

You were quiet, and with your eyes glued to the tv when Lena gently kissed you. Her soft lips ghosted the skin below your ear that met your neck, and you shivered in her hold.

“What are you doing back there?” you asked while turning your head to look at her. Lena was the picture of perfect innocence. And mischievousness. Want darkened her emerald eyes and you could feel her pull you closer to her chest.

“Oh, nothing,” she whispered. That, in fact, meant that she wanted something. And from the way her hands were trailing closer and closer to the cotton of your sweatpants, you could take a guess at what it was she was after.

Smooth and lithe fingers slipped beneath your underwear to part the folds of your center. You already knew how wet you were. Lena had a sex drive unmatched to anyone else you’d ever been with, and she was so experienced. The first time you had sex with her, she had you coming in 30 seconds and you felt like a complete virgin. Lena had to reassure you frantically that it was normal for that to happen as you were seconds away from smothering yourself with the pillow in sheer embarrassment.

A single digit dipped into your core to gather your arousal and Lena began to rub your juices lightly on your clit, effectively snapping you out of the fond memory.

“You’re so wet for me baby girl,” she husked, her lips ghosting the shell of your ear before dipping down to place wet kisses on your neck.

You couldn’t even get a response out. With the first swipe of her finger, you were already a shuddering mess. The pleasure that coursed through your veins had your toes curling.

“What about the movie?” you barely whispered before a soft moan left your lips.

Lena chuckled before she gently nibbled your neck, her finger not once pausing in their movements against you.

“Trust me, darling. There will be plenty of more opportunities in the future.”

And she was right of course. As long as Lena would be a part of your future, there would be plenty of opportunities to make as many memories as you could.

***Presently***

You went to prison with little to nothing in your possession. All you had was a photo of you, Lena, and Alexa when she was just a couple of months old. What little you had was either seized by the DEO or given to Lena. Lena. Just the thought of her and Alexa, your daughter made your heart throb. You wanted to see them more than you needed your next breath, and it was the thought of them that kept you strong enough to survive this. You wanted to hold them both in your arms, you wanted to hug Alexa close enough for you to feel her heat, you wanted to tell Lena to be strong…but there was no way. Lena was too mad at you, and for something you know that you didn’t do. It was only a week inside and you felt stir crazy. The other women kept staring at you and it made you more on edge than you wanted to be. Your arm was feeling much better, but it was still in a sling, so if a fight were to occur, you would definitely get an ass whooping.

Your picture, too precious to be lying around, would stay on you at all times if it could be helped. You were lying in bed, your cell mate doing enough pushups on the floor to put a DEO operative to shame, when a guard approached the door to your cell.

“Luthor, you have a visitor.”

Immediately, your cell mate stopped to look at you.

“Luthor?” she asked in an almost hostile voice. You hate the way the hairs raised on your arms, but you weren’t goin to show your fear. You weren’t even going to answer her. Instead, you jumped from the top bunk of the bed and follow the guard to the visitor’s area.

Once there, you immediately see blonde hair and blue eyes that sent a wave of relief so strong through you that you thought you were going to pass out. You immediately take the seat across from Kara, and you didn’t realize that you were crying until she wiped the tears away using her thumbs.

“Sorry,” you mumbled while you immediately tried to get a grip.

“Don’t be sorry Y/n. How are you?” she asked with a soft, sympathetic smile.

“I’m in literal hell. I shouldn’t be here Kara and you know that.”

She nodded and was silent for a minute.

“I recruited James and Winn to help me,” she offered. “Winn may have found possible evidence that’s linked to you being set up, but it’s not enough to prove your innocence.”

She said the last sentence in a rush before your hopes could get too high. It was silent again and you almost dreaded asking your next question, but at the same time, you needed to know.

“And Lena…?”

Kara shook her head, and you closed your eyes as you tried to swallow your anger and disappointment.

“I’m sorry Y/n, but she won’t come.”

Against your willpower, the tears began to well behind closed eyelids and you almost bit your lip off in an effort to keep them back.

“She really thinks I did it, huh?” you said in a voice that sounded too broken even to your own ears, and in a millisecond, Kara was enveloping you in a warm gentle hug.

“No touching!” one of the guards barked and you flipped him off.

“I’ll try again,” Kara promised. “But you know how Lena is.”

And that made you laugh because you did know how she was.

“Stubborn as hell.”

“You know it,” Kara said with a smile.

“If Alexa gets that trait from her, I’m going to be so totally screwed.”

Kara laughed and you two sat back down and kept talking.

***Lena Luthor: Hurt***

You and Alex were assigned a major mission together and it required you to fly halfway across the world to the access point and jump out the plane from thousands of feet in the air to reach it. J’onn entrusted you two with the mission, with Kara as support in case anything major happened. The objective was clear, to find and eliminate a hostile alien. All attempts of reasoning and subduing them had been futile, with the alien breaking free and causing more damage to both people and property in consequence. Kara wanted to take care of the alien herself, but they had immediately surrounded themselves with enough Kryptonite to kill her if she got too close. A big team of agents would alert the alien to our presence and that was something we had to avoid. If it had to be done, it would need to be done right, and as you and Alex crept down the halls of an underground, concrete facility, you mentally rehearsed the plan in your mind. You were to flank the alien and whoever had a clear shot first, was to take it. Luckily, this particular alone had no notable active powers. According to their dossier, they had heightened intelligence when it came to strategizing and demolitions, making them still dangerous.

“Are you guys okay in there?” Kara asked you over the comms.

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Alex answered. “We’re headed into the main room. Do you have eyes on us?”

There was long pause, and you could practically feel Alex cock an eyebrow.

“Kara?”

“Uh, yeah...the room you’re headed into is lined with lead. I can’t see inside. Please be careful.”

“Perfect,” you groaned. “At least this one is prepared.”

Alex chuckled lightly, your sarcasm not going unnoticed. You approach the door and look at her.

“You ready?”

Alex nodded and you kicked open the door, which was surprisingly easy. One of the hinges flew off of the door from the force of your kick and you eyed it warily. Standing back to back, you and Alex had pistols draw as you searched for the target. The room was bathed in a green glow. The abundant kryptonite cast an eerie light throughout the room, and though the room was illuminated, the radioactive crystals that embellished the room cast more shadows than the light could chase them away.

“Do you see anything?” Alex asked you quietly and you shook your head.

“Eyes open. Spread out.”

You were about 10 feet away from Alex when you saw the shiny glint of something small being pointed towards her, and it was too dark for you to get an accurate shot. You reacted, sprinting towards Alex faster than ever, and you reached her, your arms encircling her body and turning her around, when you heard several pops from behind you.

It happened too fast, and you could feel several points on impact on your back, along with Alex raising her gun to fire at your attacker. You landed on top of her harshly and rolled away from her before you could hurt her further. As you settled on your stomach, that’s when you felt it, fiery agony spreading through you, along with a warm wetness that was soaking through your suit. Alex ran to you, her hands steady as she gently lifted your head.

“I heard shots, is everyone okay?” came Kara’s voice through the comms.

“Y/n has been shot, and it’s bad Kara. One bullet barely missed her spine.”

“Okay I’m coming in,” Kara said.

“What about the kryptonite?”

“Alex, what about her? She’s worth it and we don’t have time to waste.”

You heard the full conversation, and you went to say something when a bone wrenching cough exploded from your mouth. Along with it came a mouthful of blood and it was like you couldn’t stop it. Mouthfuls of it kept coming up and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Shit! One of the bullets pierced her lung. She’s drowning in her blood.”

Kara crashed through the ceiling some feet away and immediately gasped in pain. You lost the ability to keep you head up but through blurry vision, you could see her veins highlight green beneath her skin. They throbbed in time with her heartbeat and she took ragged breaths in an attempt to breathe through the agony. Kara barely had the energy to look you over properly like she wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” was all she said before she scooped you into her arms. Your scream of pain was muted by gurgles of blood and you felt bad when you coughed it all over her and her suit. Kara went back to the hole she made and stood under it.

“Will you be okay?” she asked Alex and then grimaced as the pain increased.

Alex nodded, knowing for sure that she shot the alien in the head.

“Yeah, just get out of here,” she said, rushing Kara out before she got incapacitated along with you.

The fly home was a blur, and the time spent in the medical bay was as equally faded into oblivion. All you remember is your back and how it ached and burned in the worst ways imaginable. You were tired, so when a nurse slipped a mask over your face and told you to sleep, you happily obliged.

You woke up to Lena, who was beside you with your hand in her grasp. She was tired, the exhaustion and frustration etched clearly into her face. You tried to blink and shake the grogginess from your brain, but it only served to agitate your wounds. You winced and hissed as tears came to your eyes.

“Don’t move,” Lena said softly, but the look on her face betrayed the sentiment in her voice.

“Are you mad?”

She was silent and green eyes studied you. As the seconds ticked on, they got softer and softer until she smiled at you.

“No, I’m not mad. I was worried. Alex told me that you got four gunshots to the back and one of them pierced your lung. The nurses had to stabilize you long enough for Kara to go back and get her. Alex was the only one you could do the surgery.”

You sighed and kissed the back of her hand sweetly, loving the fact that you’ve woken up to see her again.

“You couldn’t do it?” you asked her.

She shook her head. “You would have drowned in your own blood before I would get here.”

Everything was quiet for a minute as you held Lena’s hand tightly. You were about to say something when the shiny glint of something on your hand distracted you. You squinted as you brought your joined hands closer to your face. Maybe it was the medication or the fact that you’ve been out for some time, but it looked like a ring.

Lena laughed as realization dawned on you.

“Lena is this what I think it is?” you asked incredulously.

“At this rate, you’re going to get yourself killed. I at least want you to be my wife before that happens.”

She paused as she got on one knee beside the bed and looked into your eyes.

“Y/n L/n, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” she asked you.

Cue the record scratch that had you frozen in surprise on the bed. You weren’t too sure if this was real, and you went to pinch yourself, but your movement caused your back to flare painfully.

“Are you okay?” Lena asked, more confused than anything.

“This is real? Like, this is happening, yes?” you asked.

Lena laughed and kissed you gently on the lips. That caused your heart rate to skyrocket and the heart monitor connected to you went crazy. It was only a few seconds when you heard the sounds of feet running towards your room and Alex rounded the corner, skidding to a stop in front of the bed. She looked at you, and then Lena, before she scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Guys, seriously?” she said, unimpressed.

You smiled and showed her your hand. Her eyes drifted to the ring that adorned your finger before her eyes got big and she squealed in excitement.

“Well???? What did you say?” she demanded excitedly.

“I’m saying yes of course.”

Part 3

#part 2 #enjoy guys #supergirl fanfic #lena luthor #lena x reader #angst #humor #flashback #fluff #violence

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brinconvenient · 3 years

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Green Egg and Fam

You know what? I'm just gonna go ahead and do this...

So a few years back, I was talking to another trans woman who is very familiar with the DC Universe and we were trying to figure out who is Actually An Egg, and after a few suggestions back and forth, I galaxy-brained the answer. She heartily agreed and we talked about it a bit: 1. Artsy 2. Serial Monogamist who is a Relationship Disaster (Big "Do I want to Be With Her, or Be Her?" energy) 3. Becomes best friends with every ex-girlfriend 4. Noted Respecter of Women in Very Terrible and Awkward Ways 5. Chronically allergic to self-reflection and introspection, but also addicted to it in much the same way lactose intolerant people talk about how they can't give up cheese. 6. Just a complete and Utter Messy Agent of Chaos. 7. All too willing to adopt Other People's Expectations and internalize them as a Sacred Duty. 8. Just constantly Marked By Tragedy - both external and self-created.

It's Kyle Rayner, kids.

Torchbearer,

Honor Lantern,

Erstwhile Ion/avatar of the power of will

Kyle "I will be the Last of the Green Lanterns and yet keep trying to ressurect this entire Corps of Space Cops that I didn't even know existed until some Blue Dude showed up to give me jewelry and I guess marry me into the Corps? Because I guess that's just my job now and that will become my whole personality" Rayner.

After the conversation, this - the only fanfic I have literally ever written popped out of my head fully formed. It's intended to really be Chapter 1 of Several which are basically conversations between Kyle and one Ex-Girlfriend per chapter as Kyle finally accepts herself and transitions.

Eventually she reveals that the name "Ion" comes from her real name "ImOgeN" because she read Nevada and Was Impacted and she's just that extra.

But, honestly, despite getting started on the Alex chapter ages ago, I never have drawn the energy to go back and finish and/or write more, so I'm just gonna share the first chapter of what I am calling:

"Green Egg and Fam"

Putting the actual content behind the Read More because I've already rambled too long.

“It’s just exhausting, you know? Every few years it seems like I have to pick up the pieces of my life, my memory, my self and figure out who the hell I am! Every time I get a handle on things, someone or something comes along and shakes up the snow globe,y’know? I’ve tried to talk to Diana about it and, like, she’s compassionate and cares and offers sympathy, but most of the time, my whole relationship with her is just one more flake in the globe and I never know who we’re going to be to each other. Somehow, though, you’re always my favorite ex-boyfriend. It’s weird, right?”

Kyle patted Donna’s arm reassuringly. He glanced from Donna’s face to the view over Lake Michigan. There was no more beautiful view of the lakeshore than the roof of the John Hancock Building. He could just about make out the lights of the small shore towns across the lake in Michigan, and he could see the industrial Indiana towns along the round tip of the lake.

“I’m not positive I like that descriptor of our relationship, but I am happy to be some kind of constant for you,” he said with a rueful smile. “Donna, you are one of my dearest friends and I always want to be here for you. I know you didn’t need my help with Dr. Psycho here, but I’m glad I was Earthside to help you out anyway.”

They’d taken the diminutive psychic menace to the Chicago Special Crimes Unit, who had training and facilities for telepaths and telekinetics. They found this perch when Donna said she just needed a little bit to settle down before heading back to the Titans Tower in New York.

“No, I had him just about handled - a Lasso of Persuasion is pretty useful, after all - but I’m glad you swung through, all the same,” Donna said. “I’m glad to have a friend here. Psycho was really messing with my head this time. He kept dredging through my memory, pulling out bits and pieces of lives lived and people lost. He made me relive the loss of Terry and Robert and Jenny, over and over, replayed the tortures of Dark Angel, dragged me through that whole mess with the Titans of Myth, and I’m actually not sure which of any of those actually happened in this reality anymore.”

Donna’s breath was getting ragged and tears were falling down her face, twinkling in the moonlight.

“You told me about Terry and the kids when we were dating, so since I still remember them, they must still have existed and they still loved you and you still got to love them. I’m a little fuzzy on the Titans of Myth, so I can’t be sure about that stuff. But you’re here now and that’s what’s important right now. Just take a sec to enjoy this moment, this view, this night and see how you feel, ok?” he said.

They sat in the quiet, next to each other, watching the waves reflect and distort the moonbeams. Donna’s breathing calmed down and she straightened her back, half a head taller than Kyle even while sitting.

“Thank you, Kyle. I’ll be ok now, I think. I appreciate you listening. You have a good heart. If you’d only learn to actually fight without that ring, you’d make a pretty decent Amazon. Well … if you weren’t a man, of course.”

Kyle coughed and thanked the stars that Donna couldn’t see him blush. Suddenly Kyle felt like there was lava beneath his skin and he couldn’t sit comfortably.

He didn’t want Donna to catch on, so he stifled his squirming and whipped up a quick construct of a miniature green Kyle in an Amazonian uniform, breastplate, Spartan skirt and calf boots. For added effect he made sure to widen his shoulders and used Hal Jordan as a reference for a jaw far more square than Kyle’s real life chin.

“I’m not sure I can pull off the uniform. Guess I’ll stick with green and black for now. Ha!” he said. He hoped it didn't sound as forced as it felt.

“Oh I don’t know. You’ve got great legs, Kyle! Maybe you should start wearing shorts when in uniform. Besides, you had those over-the-knee boots for the longest time. I think you’d be just fine!” Donna said, laughing.

“Give me a hug, Dick just texted me to meet him in Blüdhaven. Take care and fly safe back to Oa!” she said.

After a quick, warm embrace, she turned eastward and flew off over the lake. Kyle watched her fly out of sight. He looked down and saw little Amazon Kyle, slowly spinning in the air. He drew the construct up to eye level and returned the shoulders and jaw back to his more slender and softer reality. It didn’t look that bad actually.

He’d been trying to make Donna smile, and deflect from … something before, so he exaggerated those features to highlight the incongruence, but he didn’t hate this more realistic image.

He continue to finesse the construct’s features. Like most artists, he never really considered a piece finished, he just stopped working on it. He smoothed the musculature, narrowed the shoulders a little further, pulled the hips out just a bit more, and left the waist alone. The ersatz Kyle’s face got softer still, the brow less pronounced, the nose narrower, the chin just a bit more rounded. He watched the chest muscles soften and breasts form to fill out the breastplate better.

Finally, he lengthened the construct’s hair to shoulder length, adding some wave and curls like Donna’s somehow-always-perfect hair.

And there she was. The woman who’d been haunting Kyle’s dreams as long as he could remember. Slowly spinning in the air was a woman who could easily have been Kyle’s sister, wearing Amazonian garb (or at least what he remembered from seeing Donna’s while they were dating so many years ago).

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he started fiddling with the image, and he didn’t know how long he’d spent staring at the final form. Sister. Yeah, right.

With an angry wave he flashed his hand through the construct, dissolving and dispersing the light particles that he’d given form. He hastily looked around the roof to make sure no one had seen him or, specifically, seen the construct. The burning sensation of shame returned instantly and he immediately flew into the sky until the buildings looked like so many light-speckled building blocks.

He took himself through a calming exercise he learned from Kilowog to help him center himself and sling his ring “like he wasn’t a complete Poozer and deserved to wear it.” Kilowog had no appreciation for just how hard it was for other people to feel calm when he was around. Still, Kyle found it helped when the pink giant wasn’t breathing down his neck.

“My will is strong enough to carry the torch for the entire Green Lantern Corps, I can stop these feelings. I can make all of these thoughts go away. I can stop this. I’ve got too much responsibility to keep indulging this … this nonsense” he thought, trying to ignore the sting of the tears fighting their way free to fall down his face, ignore the pain in his heart.

“I don’t want to lose my friends - what would Donna say? Would she think I was a pervert, or making fun of her somehow? I definitely don’t want to lose Hal’s and the guys’ respect. I don’t want to lose my whole life just because I’m some kind of freak. Get it together, Rayner. No one else is feeling sorry for themselves because they don’t fit in.”

He pulled a hand down his face and pointed his right fist with it’s gaudy, shining green ring on the middle finger toward the Milky Way and flew into space. He hoped the cold solitude of the transluminal conduits would help him regain his composure before he faced Guy, Hal, John and Kilowog for the Honor Lantern meeting. For the millionth time, he wished he could just be more like them, have just a sliver of their easy and effortless masculinity. They made it look so simple.

“Bet they don’t spend half their life trying to figure out what is wrong with them,” he thought. He tried so hard not to envy them, but it was really hard sometimes.

Especially nights like tonight where his resolve had failed him yet again and he gave in to his most hidden thoughts. He entered the transluminal conduit between Saturn and Jupiter and closed his eyes.

He traveled faster than light, but it still took time to reach Oa, so he tried to sleep and hoped that his dreams wouldn’t betray him again.

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

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Headcanons for dating Natasha Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x reader

warnings: knife/gun/violence/death mentions

a/n: ILY EM

prompt: @the-radio-star: “wait ok can i request headcanons for dating natasha romanoff?! I saw you were looking for more natasha requests :D”

you were a SHIELD agent and clint’s partner sent to take nat down

you were desperate to finish this mission but thank goodness clint was there to stop you

“y/n, we’ve gotta give her a chance. she deserves it”

“clint, we have a mission to complete”

he apprehended her, disobeying the shoot-to-kill order, which you were upset about at first

but natasha didn’t seem as heartless as they said she was

“i can tell you want me dead. it’s okay, lots of people do”

“just following orders”

“so was i”

clint and you were assigned to her by nick fury himself, helping “the black widow” out of the rogue assassin role and into a domestic assasin <3

you began to warm up go natasha, though, which surprised you a lot

clint ended up taking off to be with his family for a while, so it was just you and her

nat and you learned a lot about each other (as a trust exercise)

“well, uh, have you had any pets, ms. romanoff?”

“i have not had any pets. but there was a rat living underneath my bed when i was younger”

“oh”

time actually slipped right past the two of you, as you ended up talking all night

“what time is it?”

“um...oh, it’s four a.m.”

“really? we’ve been talking all this time?”

as time went on, she began flirting less and less subtly

you weren’t opposed to it

it was obvious to clint

you and nat got sent on your first mission together to prove she was loyal to SHIELD and she ended up taking a bullet for you

you thought she was going to die, you couldn’t stop freaking out

but she was amused by your concern

“are you like this with all the agents or just me?”

kissing her just to get her to stop making fun of you

“i’m gonna say you only do this with me? i sure hope so”

fury knew this shit was gonna happen, actually he was planning on it

“you two make a great team, no doubt will you be an amazing couple”

the agents have been shipping yall since the beginning

you were already close with clint’s family, but now natasha was getting the chance to meet them!

“daddy, who’s that girl with the red hair?”

“that’s y/n’s girlfriend, lila! her name is natasha”

“aunt natasha!”

more missions with natasha because you do great together

unspoken movements that flow together so well

when she’s away on her own, she calls you (or messages you) every night to tell you about her day and how stupid her target is

easy peasy

the avengers initiative was activated and you were apart of it, along with nat

so now you guys were a mf power couple

nat was totally soft on you compared to everyone else dhshshha

they were stunned

“loveeee youuuuu, y/nnnnn”

the hand holding mhm yes

tony poking fun at your relationship

“say that again and i’ll cut your eyes out, stark”

“nat, please, no. knife away”

thor thinks your relationship is adorable

and he’s so genuine about it!!

“you two fight your battles together! such a strong bond that cannot be broken! i wish the two of you nothing but happiness!”

nat is a cuddler i swear

if she’s not cuddling you she has to cuddle a pillow so she hates being away from you

making jokes about “engagement firearms”

“be serious, nat, if i proposed to you with a pistol would you still say yes?”

“y/n, if you handed me an old shoe and asked me to marry you i’d probably still say yes”

constantly looking out for each other

she likes to lay on your lap

“i thought you were the black widow, not the black cat”

getting her some of her favorite food :)

nat loves wendy’s

you make jokes abt how she should be wendy for halloween dhahahhah

ahhhh she loves you so much its so cute

especially bc of the minor ways she shows affection, you know its for real

like she’ll walk up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist and put her chin on your shoulder and hum

you love hearingher tell you she loves you in russian

its the sweetest thing

she grabs your hand and puts it on her head so that you’ll play with her hair

because SERIOUSLY SHE LOOOOOVES PHYSICAL AFFECTION SHE NEEDS IT

you make her feel all tingly inside!!

“babe you’re the best thing that’s ever happen to me”

she’s a spy and you know she has to play another “character” but when she was on the run from HYDRA she kissed steve and he STILL cant look you in the eye because he feels bad no matter how many times you tell him that it’s not a big deal and literally they were trying to throw off bad guys its FINE

“im sorry, y/n”

“steve you’ve never done a thing wrong its OKAY”

you know she’s capable of taking care of hereee but you are always so terrified whenever nat’s in the slightest bit of trouble

you’re prepared to die for/with her

“think it’ll be okay”

“as long as im next to you”

going on the run with her after all the bad blood between tony and steve

it was like a very long and stressful vacation

but there was something undeniably romantic about sharing a shitty hotel with a loved one

“want to order some pizza and watch friends?”

“of course”

she loves adding an element of domesticity to her life

but it always feels weird to her

fighting thanos together what terrifying, you wouldnt gave anything tonsee that she was safe after this

thankfully both of you lived

“nat, are you okay?!”

“yeah, im okay. dont worry”

spending the next 5 years together at the avengers compound and just keeping each other afloat through it all

“can you give me a kiss before i start crying again”

“i’ll give you as many as you want”

helping her distract herself through it all

“i dont know what i did to deserve you, y/n”

when there was some hope, you guys took a leap of faith to save the other half of the population

“see you in a minute”

“you can count on it, love you”

(i dont wanna go any further i might cry shahhaha)

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual //

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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themightyaliendwarf · 3 years

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TPN s02e09

Another week, another episode. So, I’m kinda conflicted with this one. On one hand it was alright, but on the other it had a lot of issues (one of them being major). But let’s go step by step.

1. The first thing that you see: reused scenes. To stay that I was disappointment would be an understatement.

2. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before, but I have a lot of issues with anime Norman genocide plan. In the manga, he attacks the capital during the most important holiday. That was he can not only kill a large number of population, but, most importantly, the high nobility. Here he just attacks a random village. How is that helping? What is he achieving? How is that ‘too late to go back’? I know that you can create more drama with that (they didn’t put that child demon for now reason), but why would this “genius” do that. I mean, I understand that it’s because this season is only 11 episodes long and they clearly wanted to cut costs as much as they could... but it just makes no sense.

3. I’ve really liked Emma calling Norman an ‘arogant coward’. I don’t remember if this line was in the manga, but it’s good regardless.

4. You know what’s also cool? Ray with more lines. Always happy when they do that.

5. That scene where Sonju cuts his hand and throws it at the demon? Awful. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an animation that ugly. You can see how they desperately wanted to cut costs.

6. That moment when Barbra had second thoughts about killing the demons - I’m not sure if I like it. Yeah, they were children and she had that small flashback, but I think it might be slightly out of character. Again, they wanted to show that she is redeemable because apparently you just have to throw children everywhere to add to the drama. Okay, I guess I have more issues with CloverWorks just putting innocent baby demons everywhere to make you feel sad. It’s cheap, guys. You can do better than that.

7. And then the genocide just ends. Just like that... yeah, in the manga it also kinda just ended, but at least we got a resolution - nobles were killed, the capitol was saved, but later guards arrested everybody with cursed blood and executed them. Let’s not forget that Mujika and Sonju were classified as traitors. Here we have one attacked village that was fixed with magic blood. Which further proofs that Norman’s plan made no sense because he literally achieved nothing.

8. WOW! Would you look at that, the radio is suddenly useful. Even if the broadcasted announcement is a clear trap. Which kinda makes sense if Isabella is a ‘double agent’ (and I guess she is). But then again, it was better done in the manga because there they go back to Grace Field because Peter kidnapped everybody who stayed in the Paradise Hideout. Here they realised that they SHOULD find usage for that radio.

9. And now onto my biggest issue with this episode: old demon being the biggest ex machina of this season... so, 15 years ago he found a dying man. That man JUST SO HAPPENED to have a part for the Minerva’s pen. Inside it JUST SO HAPPENS are included the plans for the high quality farms. BUT WAIT, there is more! Within that data (let’s remind that this data is 15 years old), there is the cure for the lambda disease... 15 YEARS AGO. Wasn’t Lambda supposed to be a project that started AFTER Peter’s takeover? HOW IS A CURE THERE? HOW? OH, I KNOW HOW: because you are too scared to kill Norman. I’ve said it man times that CW will not have enough courage to kill him (or leave his future open-ended), so I’m should’t be surprised. I’m just extremely disappointed that it’s an absolute deus ex machina.

10. Speaking of Norman, I think he suddenly has longer hair in some of the shots.

11. You know what I was very afraid during this entire episode? Shipping. There were moments where I thought that CW was about to give us the ultimate fan service and just jump to the shipping hole. I’m very happy that they didn’t do it and I hope they won’t do it. The last thing that we need is romance.

12. Who else thinks that Vincent’s betray is a red-herring? Yeah, I honestly don’t believe that they are serious with it. They might be, but if they do: it’s stupid. Okay, on the other hand because it’s stupid, perhaps we should expect that.

13. Speaking of Vincent. Did you see how they cut costs by making him to shout with the mask on? Yeah, they clearly didn’t want to animate his angry face.

14. But the music is still very good.

So, uhm, I don’t know if I liked this episode or not. It was fun to watch from the beginning to end, the pacing was good, the voice acting was amazing... but it could be better. While I do have strong (or stronger) opinions about the rest of the episodes, this one left me feeling neutral. Even if the old demon ex machina was pretty awful. Well, 2 episodes more to go, let’s see what happens.

#tpn #the promised neverland #tpn s2 ep9 #tpn anime spoilers #tpn manga spoilers

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 3 years

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This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 7)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read these first Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“So, how’s the family?” Jeff asked.

Harry sat on his bed, holding his phone in front of him as he chatted with his manager over facetime, “Mum’s good. Gem’s coming up tomorrow, I think.”

“Well, that’s good,” he said. “What’s it like being back home.”

“It’s uh… just what I needed,” he smiled.

And he meant what he said. Being back home and being with you was exactly what he needed.

“What happened,” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“You have that look on your face,” he said. “The one where something happened and you’re not telling me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Except you do,” Jeff said, “Now, tell me.”

Harry rolled his, “Fine, if you must know. I’ve reconnected with an old friend during my time here.”

“A friend, or a friend,” he said.

“The latter,” he sighed, dramatically.

“So, then you’re seeing someone?” He asked.

“Technically, yes,” Harry answered. “We’re taking things slow.”

“Good,” he smiled. “You need someone special in your life.”

“She’s definitely that someone,” Harry whispered.

“Wow, you’re making fabulous progress,” your agent said. “I’ll say I was a little worried about you heading home, but it seemed to work some magic.”

“I guess you can say that,” you smiled.

“Have you thought of a title, yet?” She asked.

“Um… no I haven’t,” you sighed.

“Well, we still have time,” she said. “Oh, one more thing before we get off here.”

“Okay,” you said. “What’s up?”

“The producers should have the final cast list by the New Year,” she said.

“Really?” You smiled.

“Yep,” she nodded. “They’re finalizing the screenplay soon and it’ll be sent over for you to look at it.”

“Oh, wow,” you said. “I was expecting that.”

“Hey, when they came to us we told them we wanted as much input as we could have,” she said.

“That’s true,” you said. “I’m really happy with everything so far.”

“Me too,” she said. “So, if everything is okayed soon, filming should start by the spring.”

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you smiled. “I never thought… I never thought one of my books would be made into a film.”

“Well, you better get used to it, love,” she said. “If this one goes well, then I’m sure your other’s will be made soon after.”

“Thank you again for everything,” you smiled. “I really wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

“Hey, I’m just your voice. You bring the magic,” she smiled. “I better let you go.”

“Okay, talk to you soon,” you smiled.

Later that night, you were getting ready for a Christmas party. You were invited by a friend to meet up at a local pub for a little get together. You told Harry about it and since it was a mutual friend group, he was happy to join you. It has been so long since you’ve done your hair and makeup and worn actual clothes and not just different forms of pajamas.

You went into the house where Harry was waiting. You smiled seeing him dressed in a t- shirt and a pair of trousers with a cardigan over top.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, helping you into your coat.

“Compared to how I’ve looked the past few days, I believe it,” you joked.

“You always look beautiful,” he said.

“Not possible,” you said. “Everyone has their off days where they look gross.”

“True, but to be you’re always beautiful,” he smiled.

“Yeah, you just haven’t seen me trying to meet a deadline and I’ve literally not showered in like a few days, my hair’s a mess, and my clothes have stains on them because I didn’t bother changing them,” you said.

“That uh… sounds scary,” he winced.

“Ready to run for the hills, yet?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Not even close,” he smirked, opening the door for the two of you to head out to the car.

When you arrived at the pub, most everyone was already there. Harry placed his hand on your lower as you two walked inside. As soon as everyone saw you, they all shouted and rushed over to hug you two.

“The gang's back together!” One of them shouted.

You laughed, shaking your head, even though it was true. It had been ages since everyone had been back home, you were always missing someone, but that night everyone was there and it was just like old times. Throughout the night, you and Harry had gotten separated as you two were talking to different sides of the group.

“Man, Y/N is looking fit,” one of the guys said.

“Yeah, she is,” another said.

Harry sipped his drink as he waited to see where they were going with this.

“I can’t believe you broke it off with her,” one of them added.

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “I fucked up.”

“Wait, you dated Y/N?” Harry asked. “When?”

“You didn’t know?” They said.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Yeah, we dated almost a year, about two years ago,” he said.

“Was it serious?” Harry asked.

“I mean, it was more casual than serious,” he told him.

“Interesting,” Harry said, looking over at you.

“Why don’t you go over there and see if there’s still feelings there. You seemed to be very satisfied when you were with her,” the friend smirked.

“I might,” the guy said. “She looks like she could use some tension release.”

That’s it. Harry had heard enough. He downed the rest of his drink and pushed through the group he was talking to. He was pissed. He wasn’t sure if it was the thought of those guys who were supposedly his friends talking about you like that, or if it was because he was jealous that someone else was not only talking about you, but had been with you like that. Oh and then there was the whole, you failed to tell him you dated one of the guys you grew up with.

“Hey, Harry,” you said.

“We’re leaving,” he said.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What? Why? We just got here.”

“Yeah, we’ll if we stay here much longer, I can’t promise I won’t shove my fist into someone’s face,” he said. “So, either we leave or I push someone across the pub.”

“Um, excuse me,” you said, pulling him to the other corner of the pub. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you and Graham were together?” He spat out.

You sighed running your hands over your face, “Because that was over two years ago. I didn’t think it mattered and it’s not like we’ve really been on the topic of discussing our exes.”

“But he’s not just an ex! He’s our friend! Someone I’ve been spending time with!” He snapped.

“Oh you mean someone else you’ve spent time with over the past six years, but couldn’t ever spend time with me!” You snapped.

“Seriously? You’re throwing that back up in my face? We’ve been over this already,” he snarled.

“Because you’re yelling at me because you’re jealous that someone had the fucking balls to ask me out and actually be with me. We both have exes. We both have past relationships. If this is how you’re going to react at the thought of someone else being with me, then fuck you! I might have been in love with you for my entire life, but I didn’t just wait around for you to finally want me. And I know you weren’t waiting around either because all of your past relationships are posted over the fucking internet for the world to see!” You snarled back.

Harry jerked back at your words.

“Yeah, maybe I should have told you about Graham. But you want to get jealous over that because you might occasionally spend time with him and let’s be honest. You’ve never spent any one on one time with him, ever. You’re not that close to him. But for me, all I have to do is google your name and the first thing I’m going to see is everyone you’ve ever been linked to in the past ten years. I’ve had to deal with that for a fucking decade and I’m always going to have to deal with that. But you? You can’t handle my ex just because he happens to be in our childhood friend group? You’re right, you should leave, but I’m staying. I’ll get my own ride back,” you sniffled.

“Y/N, wait,” he said, reaching out for you as you walked past him.

A few hours later, you got out of the car and walked the long way around to the tiny house. You honestly don’t know why you stayed after your fight with Harry because you were miserable the rest of the night. It also didn’t help that you kept throwing back shots. You pulled your coat around you tighter as you walked through the backyard. You were exhausted and realized you really needed to pee.

You groaned knowing you would have to go into the house and you seriously debated on just finding a tree somewhere and be done with it. But it was too cold for that, so you snuck yourself inside. You didn’t want to see Harry, not yet. You were still annoyed and upset over what had happened. In a way, you both overreacted, but both of your feelings were valid.

You knew if you found out he hooked up with someone from here, you would probably be just as upset and jealous. But it still didn’t make it right. You got to the bathroom, sneaking inside, and being as quick as possible. Afterwards, you washed your hands, barely turning on the water, and drying them off before heading back outside.

However, you were stopped by the voice of the very person you didn’t want to see at that moment.

“Can we talk?” Harry whispered from his doorway.

“I think we’ve done enough talking for one night,” you mumbled.

“Y/N, please,” he begged. “I don’t want to end the night like this.”

You sighed, “Fine,” you said, pushing yourself into his room.

“Are you drunk?” He asked.

“Hard to tell,” you said, jumping onto his bed. “I had a few shots… some food and some water… so I’m probably like 80% drunk right now.”

“Lovely,” he mumbled.

“Hey, you wanted to talk,” you pointed at him. “I had every intention of still being mad at you.”

“Which you should be because I acted like an asshole,” he said.

“Acceptance is always the first step,” you giggled.

“Bloody hell, you’re a giggly drunk,” he shook head.

“I would love to confirm that, but I don’t have enough experience,” you giggled.

“Maybe we should hold off on this conversation,” he sighed. “You need to sleep this off.”

“Ugh, fine,” you said. “Fucking make up your mind.”

“Where are you going?” He asked, when you started getting up off the bed.

“To my room,” you said.

“You’re not sleeping out there like this,” he said. “You’re sleeping in here.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m a big girl, Harold,” you said, poking him in the chest.

“You’re a drunk girl and I don’t trust you out there by yourself,” he said. “You’re staying in here. If you don’t want me to sleep in here, fine. I’ll go to the other room.”

“I don’t even have clothes! I’m not sleeping in this outfit,” you whined.

“Then borrow some of mine,” he said, pulling some out of his suitcase.

“Your mood sure has changed,” you mumbled.

“It’s because I realized I overreacted,” he sighed. “You were right. I was jealous and upset because… I don’t want to think or picture you being with someone else. I know you have a past and I’m sorry I let it get to me… I just…”

You groaned, “I don’t feel so good,” you quickly got up from the bed, racing towards the bathroom where you empty all of your stomach contents into the toilet.

Harry sighed, following and sitting down beside you, holding your hair. When you were done, you leaned against the wall, wiping your mouth with the wet washcloth Harry had given you.

“The thing with Graham…” you sighed. “That only happened…”

“Hey, you don’t have to justify yourself,” he said.

“No, I need you to know,” you sighed. “It wasn’t serious with him. It was never serious with anyone. I tried to let myself, but I was never fully into the relationship. The only reason I got with Graham is because he was there…. I knew him… and he didn’t want anything serious either.”

“What do you mean by he was there?” Harry asked.

“I went… I went to one of your shows,” you whispered. “I thought maybe… maybe if you saw me there, you would have to talk to me. I texted Gemma, seeing if she would be there, and she told me she was. She was going to get me backstage and everything to surprise you. But-”

“But what?” He asked.

“You were with her,” you whispered. “Your ex. You seemed so happy and in love. You looked at her the way I always wanted you to look at me. My heart broke into a million pieces because up until then I really thought maybe we had a chance. Even if it had already been a few years since we spoke. So, instead ruining that, I just… left. Gemma tried to stop me, but I kept going. That was when she realized I was in love with you.”

“Gemma knew?” He whispered. “Gemma knew you were there and never said anything to me.”

“I asked her not to,” you told him. “She felt horrible for omitting the truth from you, but I told her it was for the best.”

“Maybe it was,” he admitted. “I don’t know how I would have reacted seeing you there.”

You didn’t respond other than wiping fallen tears from your eyes. Harry scooted over to sit closer to you.

“I wouldn’t get too close,” you mumbled.

“I don’t care,” he whispered, pushing hair out of your face.

“We can’t change our past, right? We can’t go back in time and do things over, but we can do whatever it takes to make sure our present and future are what we want them to be,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you mumbled.

“And I’m sorry I yelled at you causing you to yell at me,” he whispered.

You laid your head on his shoulder, “I’m sleepy.”

“Then let’s get you back to bed. We can finish this in the morning,” he said.

He got up from where the two of you were sitting on the tiled bathroom floor. He reached down, picking you up like it was nothing, and carried you into his bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his chest, as he carried you. You placed you on his bed before getting the clothes he had picked out for you and handing them to you.

He turned around while you undressed yourself before pulling his clothes over your body. Once he knew you were finished, he looked down at you.

“Stay in here,” you whispered.

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, pulling the blanket down for him to join you.

“Mum’s probably going to kill me in the morning,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you. “Or throw a box of condoms at my head.”

You giggled, “Those might come in handy one day if you’re lucky.”

“Is that a promise?” He smirked.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” you said.

He laughed, shaking his head before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back before closing your eyes and falling into a drunken sleep.

SORRRY Again for the super late update. I hope to have Part 8 posted tomorrow at an earlier time. :)

#Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fanfictions #Harry Styles Fanfics #Harry Styles Fics #Harry Styles Christmas Series

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

'Old place' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

'Old place'

I need you close to me, I'm feeling safer with you !'

Chapter Summary : Yirina remembered one of her main goals in her life right now before an friend got an thought in head......

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +4000

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Well, we can say that we have succeed in our little improvised mission to put our hands on Lukas Ritter without having any big problems except for that fight I had with him as he tried to neutralize me but the only thing he has done was to make my bottom lip bleed a little but nothing too serious to me. We managed to corner him in an isolated spot on an parking and we got what we needed from him : he will be forced to comply and to help the MI6 as an insider in the KGB, giving us everything that we need to get Portnova back.

During that little interrogation, I could feel Zasha's anger to hear everything about Portnova and I can understand their pain when we will have to face her after 3 years....let's hope it will go well. We returned back to the safehouse to heal my little wound on the lips, Park make an call to someone in the MI6 to give instructions to Ritter and then, we took a nap back in that car again with Park, Zasha taking the couch back for them and if only we could sleep on an bed instead of the backseat of the car.....too much to ask in that place....

The next day started well because in the first hour in the morning, we received an transmission from Lukas himself, giving us some details on Portnova's team but also explaining that he had to keep an low profile and that he will send only a few transmissions in an day. Even with that, we were relieved that he was willing to work with us. During the next two days, we stayed in the safehouse as Lukas was sending us an lot of details through his few messages and by the odds, the Perseus agents that Woods's team were tracking to get Adler back.....it was the same members of Portnova's team inside the KGB.

With that revelations in head, we shared that intel with Woods and thanks to that and the numerous contacts from Greta & Garrett, they could shorten their trip in here and us too. While they were focused on the team, us....we kept our focus on Portnova herself, trying to find an way to approach her. Today, the 14th of May, after an long day of work, it was time for us to get some heavy sleep so, me & Park....back in the car like always....I'm not going to sleep in the same place as Hudson and if I tell it loudly, I will....if I can see him because I didn't see him at all since two days....he kinda avoid me and it's better for me and for him too.

I was talking with someone in the phone in my old office inside the Lubyanka Building and according to my state and the position I was using inside my seat, that call kinda make me put on my nerves, holding the phone firmly. Zasha was peacefully working at their desk, trying to not make any eyes contacts with me during my call, more focused on their paperworks.

"Yeah, yeah, just get it done !" I affirmed clearly to the person I was talking to throught the phone and redressing myself on my chair before I decide to hang up the phone. "What an prick !" I whispered to myself, looking at the phone.

"Something's wrong ?" Zasha asked as they saw me, having finished with my call, putting their head up.

"The Perseus guy in charge to give us some transmissions did make an mistake and it's avoiding us to have the necessary papers to work." I explained, taking an breath as I looked at Zasha who was an bit confused. "If he don't give us these papers, we can say goodbye to some vacations."

"Ah shit." They rolled their eyes around at hearing me.

"I hear you, Zed." I said with an grin on my face.

"You have something planned for the next days ?" They questioned me.

"No, Freya is in an mission in Romania for an undetermined time....so, that's means that I will be alone." I raised my shoulder, biting my lips at the same time.

"You know, you can come with us : I'm taking Dedov & Portnova for an trip." They started, putting down their pen on their desk. "Away from Russia....can be interesting for you."

'I don't know, where did you three planned to go ?" I asked them, my arms going on my desk, looking curiously at Zasha.

"Well, we either think of going in England...or in Miami." My eyes went wide at hearing this from Zasha to be honest, mainly on the second proposition.

"Miami ?" I told them, scratching my nose.

"Yeah, should change of the cold air of Moscow and if it's vacations, we're not going to be harrassed every 5 minutes by Perseus agents." They affirmed, tapping with their fingers on the desk nervously before checking their own watch. "It's strange, Portnova should be here." They looked at the office that was at the other side of the room, empty....her workplace.

"You're right." I admitted, narrowing my eyes by looking at Portnova's desk. "Did she told you if she got something to do ?"

"No, not at all." Zasha replied before suddenly, we could hear some knocks at the office's door that was very silent and very strange.

"Come in." I ordered in an normal voice and then, the door opened, revealing Portnova herself but her hair was like more messier than ever.....

"Hi." She waved at us both, looking very strange, her hair was covering an specific part of her face and by that, me & Zasha looked at each other, confused.

"You're okay ?" Zasha demanded.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm alright." She breathed in an low voice but before she could move, Zasha immediately stepped away from their chair to get to her, with me doing the same. "Zed, I told you...I'm alright." She repeated but we could both see that there were something bad. Zasha removed the hair that was covering her left eye....and we could discover an black eye.

"Who did this ?" Zasha was getting angry about this as we could see Portnova having some tears out of her both eyes.

"Some..." She started, trying to clean up her tears on her face. "Some assholes in the parking of the building...they tried to harass me while they were fixing their car....they did this 5 minutes ago." She added, making Zasha looking in rage and me too.

'They're still in there ?" She nodded to me slowly.

"Let's go get these sons of a bitch !" Zasha told me and I was fully approving their idea before we start to get out of my office.

We were both in rage, clenching our fists all along the way to the parking. We were only focused on beating the shit out of these guys who dared to hurt Portnova.....our friend like that. That act wasn't going to stay unpunished after all. I think that the guards were pretty confused to see 2 peoples walking angrily towards the parking and once we got out to the parking of the building, we were immediately looking around to see an car that was needed to be fixed and we found it quickly.

There were only 2 guys near it...those fuckers who hit Portnova. Zasha was like an beast that couldn't be stop and I wasn't going to stop them at all. They started to walk rapidly towards the man that was checking the car's engine with the raised hood of it. They immediately took the hood in their hands and lowered it multiple time on the guy that was checking the engine. I saw the other guy that was at the driving seat and when he saw his friend getting beaten, he start to get away from his seat, opening his door to get out.

I kicked the door with my feet furiously, closing it by force and causing the panicked guy to fall on his back. He was pleading for not getting beaten but it was too late as I have already put my hands on him and then, I literally threw him in one of the car's window, hurting him very badly.

"Grigoriev !" A man shouted in anger to me as I was going to finish the guy off....I looked around to see an bald tough man arriving in the scene.

"Kravchenko !" I whispered, seeing him arrive near the car as Zasha stop also to beat the other guy.

"What the fuck did you do to my men ?" He asked me, looking at the guys we just beaten.

"They have hurt an friend so we hurt them." I replied clearly to them, crossing my arms to him. "If your men are dicks, we were in our right !" I added with anger towards him.

"We're going to see...."

"Comrade Kravchenko." Another man's voice came in....Perseus himself dressed in an KGB high officer, walking slowly towards Kravchenko, his hands behind his back. "Were you trying to....threaten my 'daughter' ?" He questioned him as in me, I was feeling very uncomfortable to be called like this by Perseus.

"No, sir, I didn't threatened Grigoriev, her and their friend just beat my men." He gestured to the beaten guys as Zasha walk next to me.

"They have hurt Portnova, sir." Zasha explained as Perseus peaked his head towards us.

"So, their actions are justified....you should leave, Kravchenko, you're awaited !" Perseus told him in an very serious tone, making an tap on Kravchenko shoulder before the latter start to walk away, leaving us with Perseus. "You need to control yourself, Yirina." He started before looking at Zasha. "Same for you, Krypto." He added, looking at us an bit worried as Zasha was still angered about what happened to Portnova. I then stepped in front of Perseus, facing him....

"We don't hurt my friends and that....showed to everyone what we are capable of !"

I was quite surprised to relive that particular memory but it showed that me & Zasha, we were pretty serious about protecting our friends, that I was in rage when a friend was hurt. In fact, it did reinforce my intentions to help my friends even further for the future. Suddenly, I could hear knock against an window, waking me up in the car in the middle of the night with Park in my arms. I was the only one who heard them and when I opened my eyes, I could see Zasha standing outside the car, apparently wanting to talk....in the middle of the night.

I wasn't able to let them like that and going back to sleep so I slowly start to move, gesturing to Zed that I was coming silently, not wanting to awake Park in her sleep. I stepped out of the car, closing the door slowly before I walk a few meters from the car.

"Zed....why did you wake me up ?" I started, passing my hands through my eyes, looking more tired than ever before I looked at my watch. "It's 2 AM !" I added in an low voice.

"I know, I'm sorry." They apologized, also sounding low.

"I hope you got something that will excuse that..." I scoffed to them with an small grin before I yawn. "What's wrong ?" I asked them, seeing them an bit worried.

"Well...I had an thought while sleeping." They replied, joining their hands together, looking away from me for an second. "I was wondering if....our old places we were living are still there...." They said, making me raise an eyebrow.

"You're serious ?" I told them, confused.

"I know, it's maybe stupid but I was thinking of it." They said, still sounding apologizing to have wake me up. "Maybe those places are burned, abandoned or used by Perseus but...what if we go to these places ?"

"You want us to go there ?" They nodded to me. "Like....right now ? At 2 AM ?" They nodded again to me, making me roll my eyes around. It was maybe stupid to do this at this time but Zasha got me curious about our places we lived before and I couldn't refuse that opportunity. "Where do you want to start ?" I asked them.

"As I remember, your place isn't so far from here, you were living in the Cheryomushki District so we could go there first as I remember the place well." They responded, putting their hands on their waist. "I was living almost at the other side of the city so, your place is first."

"Okay..." I breathed, looking around towards the horizon, seeing the city from afar before looking at the car. "We need Park to come with us, you're not against it ?"

"No, she should come." They affirmed, causing me to walk back to the car, letting them at their position to go awake Park from her sleep at 2AM....she's going to kill me...

"Park." I whispered as I was back inside the car, moving gently her shoulder with my hands. "Park." I repeated again as she start to slowly wake up.

"Yiri...what's wrong ?" She said in an very low voice, opening her eyes to see me over here, wondering what I wanted.

"Uhm..." I cut myself as I didn't know how I was going to say that Zasha wanted to go to our old places like that at 2AM. "You're maybe to say that we're crazy but....we maybe need to go to my old living place." I finally told her as I could see her eyes going wide.

"What ?" She chuckled, redressing herself to get back on sitting, me moving to allow her to do that. "You're serious ?" She added and I nodded.

"It's stupid but we can try." I raised my shoulders to her, seeing her wide eyes towards me....yes, she's going to kill me. "It's dangerous maybe but we can try our luck."

"Yes, it's dangerous." She affirmed, peaking her head to look outside, seeing Zasha awaiting for us. "Who got this idea ?" She demanded.

"Listen, if you don't want, say it right now." I told her in an normal voice before taking an deep breath, I could see her bit her lips before looking at me, nodding.

"Okay, we will do something...which time is it by the way ?" She asked rhetorically as she check her own watch before her eyes went wide again and she look back at me. "Well, guess that nobody will do something to stop us." She stated, surprising me as I was already seeing her with her hands around my neck to have her woke up at this time of the day before she took an breath. "I'm gonna take my satellite phone in case, tell Zed to get ready !" She ordered as she stepped out of the car, going back inside the warehouse to grab what she need as I was gesturing to Zasha to come in the car.

She came back really quick with her phone as I did install myself in the front passenger seat of the car, struggling to not get myself back to sleep as Zasha installed themselves in the driving seat, they were the one that were knowing where we were exactly living in Moscow so we had to put our hopes on them and it's sure that they are good in it. Park go back inside the car and once fully seated, we drove off the place...going to our mysterious destination as Zasha was the one to drive.

During the drive, everyone was struggling to not get back to sleep actually, putting the radio volume up to make sure that everyone keep their eyes fully open but there were constant yawns for the three of us because if someone was yawning, another will do it in the 15 next seconds and it became an endless cycle with us. Finally, we arrived in an apartment complex in the Cheryomushki District like Zasha said.

"So, this is the place ?" I started, getting out of the car that Zasha parked in an empty space right in front of the complex. The streets were pretty silent at this time of the day, no cars were driving, no bystanders were walking...just us...

"Yes, you lived there." Zasha answered, looking at me as I was checking the building.

"It's looking quite lovely to say." Park said in an curious tone, her left hand on her waist and the other covering her mouth to yawn again.....she was the one who did this the most in the car.

"Well, let's enter quickly then." I suggested as I start to walk away from the car, followed by Zed & Park inside the building that was the place I lived before....let's hope that the place isn't crowded with Perseus agents. We entere the main hallway and our first reaction was to go near the mailboxes. "I lived at the first floor." I whispered, having found my mailbox....still with my name on it despite the three years that passed.

"So this place is still apparently used." Park said in an low voice, not wanting to speak too high and to awake everyone around. "Let's get up." She ordered as we move to get up the stairs....can say that I was lucky to have lived at the first floor of the building....wasn't going to get tired to say. We arrived at the door with throught it, my old apartment maybe empty....or filled with Perseus agents. First thing to do was to take our guns in hand.....before we decided like that....to knock at the door.

"Why I did this ?" I thought to myself as I was the one to knock at the door. I took an breath after that, awaiting but by luck, no sounds were coming inside....either the persons in it are sleeping or there are nobody there.

"Wait, let's see under that carpet." Park pointed at the carpet I was standing on, making me move and letting her check below it....and we discover an key.....seriously ?

"The good old trick of the key under the carpet." Zasha whispered as Park was taking the key in her hand to unlock the door. At that moment, I could feel my heart pounding faster than usual because I was going to go back to an place from my old life...it will go well, Yiri ! It will !....

"Okay, here we go." Park opened slowly the door with her left hand, the other having her gun, getting herself inside the apartment that was in the dark.

We stayed behind her as we were going further inside the apartment....with me still feeling weird to get back here. Seriously, I never thought that it was going to be Zasha themselves who was going to make me go back here and here we are, standing in my old living room at 2AM with our guns in hand because Zasha had the thought of visiting our old places again. The room was like in my memories but there were nothing like pictures or personal things from me and it was looking used recently.

"I'm going to check the bedroom." Zasha proclaimed as they start to walk to get inside the room, leaving me alone with Park after we had check the kitchen that was just at the living room sight before I decide to go sit on the same chair I was always sitting in my memories, trying to get my thought in order.

"Damnit, I never thought...." I said, putting my arms on the armrest and looking outside through the same window. "How do you find the place ?" I asked to Park in an low voice.

"It's lovely to be honest." Park replied, moving to get next to me, still standing up to look outside with me. "How do you feel ?" She questioned me, seeing my state that it was all strange.

"It's feeling so weird to be here, you know ?" I started, holding my head with my right hand as I have already put back my M1911 in my jacket to look at Park. "I come back here as 'Yirina Grigoriev', 'Bell'....well, she would have never acknowledge the place." I scoffed about the end of it as Park moved to get at the same level as me, a knee to the ground. "I could still see myself in that seat, drinking & smoking to forget the fact that I did work with Perseus all this day."

"I'm sorry." She told me, putting an hand on my shoulder and looking down.

"You couldn't know." I breathed, taking her hand into mine. "It was never your fault." I added, sure of my own words as I look at Park who wasn't agreeing at all, she's still feeling guilty that she helped Adler but for me, she's already forgiven....since 3 years...since the moment she said sorry, the moment I stepped out of that room. "Park....it was never your fault !" I affirmed, smiling at her as I moved my other hand to her chin gently, making her look at me fully.

"I.....I.....thanks." She grinned before I put an little kiss on her cheek and then, I redresed myself on the seat, still having her hands in mine but her now smiling. "You know that we're always there for you...that I'm always there for you."

"I know." I smiled at her before I could see Zasha coming back from the bedroom.

"The place is used by Freya !" They exclaimed in an low voice, having something like an picture in their hands. I stand up at hearing her name from their mouth.

"You're sure ?" I asked.

"Yes, got this as proof !" They handed to me the picture but also....an necklace. The picture, it was me with Freya, both in military outfits with Perseus insignia on them. We were young at that time and Freya...her hair wasn't not like today....not shaved on the side, this picture was the third real thing from my old life that I saw. The necklace, it was something that Freya was always wearing and seeing it here means that she was coming here time to time. "Freya must be using your old apartment as an way to not forgive you, it seems."

"In fact....Freya...she saw me last month, she realized that I wasn't dead." I told them as they were unaware of it at all because I never speak about it to them, their eyes went wide about this.

"Wait, are you saying that Freya saw you alive ?" Zasha was sounding more confused than ever.

"Yes but....it wasn't 'Yirina' at all....it was...'Bell' !" I replied in an low voice. I spoke about that to Zasha and they start to slowly realize my words.

"Oh, so you're meaning that she thinks that you're still...brainwashed ?" I nodded to them, biting my lips.

"Yirina think it can be used as an way to have Freya back in our side and I think it too." Park affirmed, standing next to me as she was checking the picture. "She did have Freya's number to call her." She added, making Zasha to look at me more surprised.

"It's been 2 weeks that I didn't call her." I breathed before looking at the phone in the living room, I wasn't in the mood to call Freya right now. "Maybe later." I whispered before I look around the living room.

"So what should we do ?" Zasha asked

"Since Freya is still using the place, you're gonna put her necklace back at where you found it." I answered, handing to Zasha Freya's necklace...but keeping the picture with me before finally handing it too. I wanted to take it but if I did, Freya will have know that I did come here. "We're going to leave quickly before we got any surprises and then, we're driving to your old place." I said to Zasha before they start to return into my old bedroom that I didn't enter and I think it was better that I don't. Since I came back here, my memories in here were like reliving themselves in my ears...my voice, Freya's voice, Zasha's voice....

"Do you think we will come back here ?" Park demanded, putting her hand behind my back and honestly, I couldn't give her an proper answer to that question.

"I don't know to be frankly...." I responded, looking down at my feets and taking an deep breath. Maybe I will come back here, maybe not and I will have to make an choice. This place, it was strange to step in it again and leaving it without something, it kinda make me feel strange & weird like if I never know of this place.....

"We should get out for now....this place is going to freak me out."

#cod cold war #cod bocw #cod black ops cold war #call of duty cold war #cod bell #black ops cold war #call of duty #cod cw #yirina grigoriev #helen park #fem!bell

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