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#i blacked out and when i came to this was on my screen
chaosandmarigolds · 2 days
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Among the Bullets
Chapter 2 Part 2
Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, He just sucks at flirting, but he is trying bear with meee)
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Warnings?: jealousy? Body descriptions, nothing really.
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 With a defeated huff you set the tablet down, leaning back in the chair was that was worse for wear. The light from the screen being the only real light source of the room, the hours of searching for a file you knew would be under the most secure of networks left you with a file that was more crossed out than not. A file you, of all people, should have access to. Yet perhaps the other people that was on that team thought not, and some part of you agreed with that.
After anothe few hours toying away in the hangar you had told yourself it was high time for an actual break, so you had gone to the mess hall, spending the thirty minutes pulling apart what you thought was a roll and reading over the briefing file for the up coming operation. Seemed easy enough, although there were a few things that were crossed out, so you assumed that was on a need to know basis. Even with all of the black ink covering the words in the upcoming operation, it didn’t hold a light to the scribbled out words of the past- a past you were now trying to uncover for your sake of mind. 
The way that the captain had referenced this, that mission, as if he knew the details you hadn’t been given until you had blood on your hands- he had information you wouldn’t ever be given. And you had been there. You were stay on the slow moving fan above you, mind whirling with questions you had buried deep down, just as you were about to doze off into a light slumber a knock came to the door, heavy set of hands yet a soft knock- enough to startle you
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“Hi!” 
 You blink to the change of light and see the kind looking girl in front of you, bit taller, holding a duffle bag like the one they had given you in her clutch. Her blonde hair neatly slicked back into a bun and her eyes giddy if not fatigued. When you see her you give her a little smile, “Can I help you?” Maybe that was a bit rude but she didn’t seem taken back by it. 
  “Um, the- the guy with the mask- like the halloween one?- He said I’ll be sleeping here.”
Oh. A roommate. Lovely. While you try to hide your ghost of a smile from her words while speaking about the lieutantle you look her up and down, clean clothes, ironed even, white blouse tucked into a clean pair of khakis, black riding boots. She…if it was able to say, was the exact opposite of you.  With a few moments you nod and open the door some more, rubbing your eyes. 
“You must be the mechanical engineer for the operation, I’m chemical engineering” She chirps in response and looks around, setting her bag on the sofa, which would be your bed as you would insist she take the actual bunk. Being a scientist would explain a lot of things, such as her apparence. To that you hum, and she noticed your uneasy expression from the doorway, “Louise. My name is Doctor Lousie Johnson.” ‘
“You actually say doctor?” That was what you said, which was most likely not the best thing to say but it was you had. Sure, techimcally you ahd your doctorate degree, but the idea of introducing yourself like that made you cringe. So as the silence crept, you shrugged, introducing yourself with a shake of the hand, “And technically I’m a mechanic for the operation.”
Louise tilted her head, carefully taking out the tablet she had been given, her touch delicate, “Ah. Well in the briefing document they said engineer.” Her eyes lit up as she looks back up to you, “Oh! On that note can I have access to your notes on-” 
  “Eh, Tink-” 
You spin on your heels as you hear the scotts voice interrupting your thoughts and the words Lousise was speaking, looking at him as he was half knocking on the door. He flashes a smile to Lousie, and then looks back to you, “Goin to the bar with Si and Kyle, you’re comin.” 
With a frown you retort, “I try not to drink the night before I have something important to do.” 
“Nows the bes time to drink,” He frowns to that, his eyebrows furrowing, “Si said to drag ya if needed, so gimme y’er arm.” 
  You tilt your head with an exasperated look and turn your head as Louise bites back a little laugh, the woman quieting as you give her a glare, her hand clasped over her mouth and eyes scrunched up in laughter. Without missing a beat you look back to the man, “I’m not going to the bar, Sergeant.” 
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 You sit in the booth, sipping the shirley temple as you read over the document for the thousanth time. It wasn’t anything special, the group was mostly sitting at the bar, chatting away with the doctor- who was aptly very quickly nicknamed ‘Doc’ You didn’t quite care for bars, however everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves- at least everyone expect for the Lieutentant, who somewhat mimicked your own posture but at the bar top. It wasn’t as if you were paying attention though, because that would be crazy, why on earth would you be watching- 
  About seventy percent of your attention was on the group you had isolated yourself from, how they laughed, how Lousie just clicked. It was idootic, you would most likely never see these men again in your life, nor her, after this operation, yet here you were feeling some sort of elementary school rejection. You were on a job, you were getting paid a decent chunk of money for this, and not to mention there were about a billion other factors which motivated your actions. With another sip of the drink you look away and to your tablet again, wiping off the oil smudge you had been too lazy to care about till then. 
  “Ya know its not safe for a lady to be out here alone,” a voice snapped you out of your trance, yet ther voice had no real body, you figured out it was coming from the person one booth over. 
  A quick glance back to the group, who were laughing with their backs to you, you bring your lips to your drink, speaking slowly and hushed, “You can say Hi like a normal person, Jack.” 
 A gruff laugh, and while you can’t see his face the rain covered grey hoodie was enough to confirm it was him- after all, you bought him that hoodie a few moments go by and you can hear him take a long swig of what you would guess was rum, “They want an update.” 
A long silence and you take a breath, hands looping around the glass as you think, “Can’t give them one yet, they haven’t told me anything…important, no location, time, nothing, they told me to be ready for anything and to dress warm.” You look around and then clear your throat, “They did ask if I was comfortable with 4320s.” 
“The tracktor?” He almost aughed, and for a spilt second you could almost see his smile before you replied. 
“Urals 4320s, dumbass.” You snipped back playfully, and look down to your glass, getting lost in thought for the millionth of a second, and when you looked up you noticed the luetiant looking at you, eyes narrowed, with a wary gulp you wave. 
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Somehow, you had been given the task of dragging the ‘somewhat’ buzzed doctor back to your room, with a arm under her, aggravatingly small, torso you lead her through the hangar. Listening to the ‘buzzed’ words as she spoke, now, you wouldn’t lie- she seemed like a sweet girl, kind, and very smart in her field- if not a bit dense socially, most likely the only thing you both had in common. Yet there was something that rubbed you the wrong way, and perhaps it was your one jealousy. 
   She was what your parents wanted for you, perfect hair, perfect body, clothes, smile, eyes, makeup, all of it, she reeked of perfection. The worst part was that you couldn’t be upset at her for it, she was too kind. “I think- I think they’re nice.” 
   “Mmmhm,” You nod slowly as you kick the door to the room open, and that had been your go to response to anything the woman had to say, a quick mmhm and a nod, or maybe just a little lifeless laugh that would trigger her own chaotic giggles. Now, this was technically a task you had taken upon yourself, the boys had offered and you knew deep down they wouldn’t have done anything- but the ‘girl code’ was ingrained into your blood. So, with a roll of the eyes you took her back to the room, which now left you there.
     “The scary one is-is funny,” She stumbles out as you sit her down on the bunk, a hand on the top of the head to keep her from hitting her head, her eyes going over your emotionless expression, and she hums, “But he was looking at you.” 
   “You’re drunk, shut up.” You snip and then kneel down, taking off the boots with tough pulls which would get you a grumble and a scold, that you couldn’t care enough about. It took about ten minutes of standing by the bed and shoving her back down before she finally relented and stayed down, so you hum once she was out. So you push yourself up to stand, walking over to the desk, grabbing your bag and pulling out the tablet. 
The faint light in the bottom of it catching your eye, so you frown and grab the flip phone, double checking the door was locked as you lean against it, looking over the message. 
   Mission is in Poland- dress warm. Be safe. 
The contact name stung in your mind, Jackson. Unshokcing that they would have him be your contact, nonetheless, made your blood run cold every time you thought of him, much less when you spoke to him less than two hours before. 
     You too, okay?
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 You stood outside the office for a solid few moments after you knocked before you heard the voice telling you to come in, and just as you remembered it was dimly lit, and the harsh smell of the smoke hung in the air. With an exaggerated clear of the throat you look to the captain, “Good morning, Sir.” 
     He motions for you to sit down, which you dismiss the offer with a shake of the head, “What do I owe the pleasure?” 
     “I have a few questions.”
The man seemed to almost expect this and he nods, “About the doctor.” 
   “Why a chemical engineer? From my experience-” 
“This isn’t about your experience. You were chosen for this operation, that should tell you everything you need to know, solider.” 
You stare at the captain for a long moment, the words rubbing you the wrong way, they way he was relaxed making your blood boil,  “I am not a solider. I will never be a solider and I will not be treated as such, I am consult and I demand some information on this operation aside from the vests I will be wearing and the truck I am expected to ride on. A chemical engineer and a mechanical one all in one op leads me to the assumption that is like operation that was lead on March 20th 2018 and I will need that information if you expect me to proceed.” 
Price stayed quiet as you spoke, seeming to take your words with a shaker of salt, which he prayed you would be thankful for, “You have all the information you need, as does Doctor Johnson.” 
   With a scoff you go on, “With all due repsect-”
“That will be all.” He interrupted you, his gaze hard and he holds out his arm for the door, “You are dismissed.” 
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  “Did you get an’ sleep?” 
The voice snapped you out of your train of thought, zipping up your bag and you look up to the lieutant, giving him a brief laugh. Maybe to ease your own nerves, sure everything you were about to do made your blood run cold but the sight of a man who might as well just be a ghost at that point seemed to do nothing for them. He lived up to the callsign. It was four hours before you would go on the transport, for the operation to actually begin, and you were getting all of the things you thought you would need- however they didn’t tell you what you would need, so you were going in blind. 
   “Enough, sir.” You respond with an equally amount of lackluster. 
He looked you up and down, the uniform they had given you to wear was ironed and clean- unlike what you would normally wear. “You’ll be fine, yeah?” 
    With a quick glance up to him you hum, and you look around, eyes landing on Lousie as she chatted up Johnny and Kyle and you look to the Lieutant, “With all due respect I need to know why we need a chemist. I need to know what I’m walking into.” It wasn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the words spilled out and it was much too late to turn back. “Last time I had a chemist on my op-” 
    “Take it up with the Captain.” 
“I tried. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”
    The lieutenant looked down at you, the mask seeming a bit more intimidating up close, the black paint smuged around his eyes and the thread he used seeming to be tight to the cloth. He seemed to be mentally debating something, ot jdudging you, you couldn’t figure out which, and you didn’t quite want to. So with a grunt he picked up your bag without warning and began to walk to the transport. 
   “Hey???” You yell after him, a bit more confused than anything, catching the attention of the rest of the group from the other side of the hangar, “Thats mine?!”
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Annnnyway that’s it! <33 comments and all that jazz mean a lot to me!!
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lav3nd3erhaz3 · 10 hours
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THE 1 - kate martin x fem!oc!
WARNINGS- idk if there are any so if there is pls tell me!
DNI- men and minors.
SUMMARY- leia attends her first iowa wbb game and it goes different then she expected and she ends up feeling things she shouldnt be feeling.
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I GUESS YOU NEVER KNOW, NEVER KNOW
JANUARY 25, 2023
CARVER-HAWKEYE ARENA
I walked into the arena for my first Iowa basketball game, while wearing my best friend Jada's jersey. I sat in my seat, it wasn't very far from the court so I could see well. I took my phone out of my pocket and opened up my snap. I saw a snap of Jada. She was sitting in the locker room. The text box on the picture read “Can we get a fit check 🙏”.
As I studied the photo I saw a gorgeous blonde in the photo with her. I replied with a snap of my jersey saying “Your jersey or no jersey! Good luck tonight Pookie!!!”. I sent the snap and closed out of my snap to my home screen. I opened the messages to see a message from my boyfriend James.
LOML
Hey.
We need to talk.
LEIA HOWARD
About what?
James, you're scaring me.
LOML
Just come over to my place at noon tomorrow.
Read 3:25
What did James mean by ‘we need to talk.’ We were doing so well. He had just left a week ago for a trip to California for his hockey team and came back yesterday. We talked while he was gone but not for very long, which was normal. I had my classes to worry about and he has his hockey team to worry about.
When I looked back up, the girls were on the court. I saw Jada warming up with Gabbie, the only girl I had met on the team so far. Earlier, at our apartment, Jada had mentioned going out with the team and suggested that I go with her. I hadn't considered going till now, I thought about it until the warmup music abruptly came to an end and I heard the commenters speaking but I didn't understand what they were saying.
AFTER THE GAME
Jada must have seen me because a security guard had come to escort me to her which was on the court near the bench.
“YOU DID SO WELL BABES!” I told her as I ran up to her, jumped into her arms, and wrapped myself around her. None of her teammates even turned to look at us as the interaction happened.
“OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING!!”She exclaimed back to me, matching my energy.
As we let go of the hug we both noticed the team was heading to the locker rooms so we followed. I put my hand in her hand and we started talking. We walked like that to the locker rooms.
When we made it to the locker Jada went to her little cubby and I followed. I made my way through the large group of girls to get just to Jada who seemed like she was halfway across the world. When I made it to her locker room I realized I hadn't told her about James or me wanting to go out with her and the rest of the girls.
“I need to tell you something weird that happened with James today,” I told her with a serious tone.
“Leia what happened…” She questioned me as she slipped off the yellow and black jersey that matched the one I was wearing. She traded it out for an Iowa women's basketball sweatshirt.
“He said he wants to talk…” I told her looking down trying to ignore the tears that were falling from my eyes. As I finished my sentence the same blonde from the snap Jada sent me earlier had appeared next to me and Jada.
“Hi! Are you still coming out with us tonight?” The tall blonde questioned my best friend.
“Yeah of course Kate,” Jada replied quickly, turning to me as she finished her sentence. “My offer still stands, Lei, if you wanna come with us, I think it will help get your mind off James for the rest of the night. We can listen to Hamilton while getting ready, '' she said, trying to persuade me, whispering the last part of the sentence.
“Uhm.. yeah sure..” I said, a wave of nervousness traveling over my body, making my cheeks heat up.
“Ok great. I guess I'll see you guys later. It was nice kinda sorta meeting you Leia…” As she finished her sentence I felt myself wanting to go out more just from that small interaction.
As the blonde left, Jada spoke up. “Thats Kate, she's really sweet, I think you guys would get along so well.” The comment made my cheeks heat up once again.
“She seems nice..” I commented as Jada turned around to collect the rest of her stuff.
AFTER GETTING HOME FROM THE CLUB
Those girls were super sweet, they treated me just like a player. Throughout the night they made sure I was included, I had even gotten close with some of the girls, especially Caitlin and Molly. I as well had forgotten all about what was going to happen the next day.
When me and Jada got back we stumbled out of the apartment. I went to my room and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a random oversized shirt I found in my drawer. I walked into the bathroom and put my brunette hair into a messy bun and started my skincare routine. I was halfway done brushing my teeth when I got a bunch of notifications coming from my phone that was in my pocket that was vibrating rapidly.
When I read through them carefully I noticed that they were all from the basketball girls following me on Instagram. But one of them stood out to me… Kate, Seeing her name gave me butterflies in my stomach the way James did when we first met. I Ignored the feelings I felt and finished brushing my teeth. When I finished I went straight to my room.
As I was walking I passed Jada's room to see she wasn't in her room. I just assumed she was getting a snack or something from the kitchen but when I entered my room there she passed out and noticed taking up all the room on my queen-sized bed. I squeezed my way into my bed and took as much blanket as I could get from Jada hogging it. As I finally got comfortable Jada flipped over.
“I'm so proud of you for going out tonight Leia, the girls liked you, and they said that next time we go out to invite you. I know everything feels bad right now but tomorrow's gonna be ok I promise and even if it isn't you got me and the team. I love you lei-lei, good night.” She muttered, yawning as she finished her sentence. “Thanks, Jades, I love you so much too, Sweet dreams,” I said as I heard her soft breathing signaling she was sleeping. I fell asleep soon after finishing my sentence.
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dividers - @saradika
hi lovies! i hope you like this! i made half of it in the middle of a mental breakdown so half of it i didnt even know what i was writing. Not a lot of kate and leia interactions but i promise next chapter leia is gonna be freaking out!! i dont know if im gonna just do the 1 lyrics for the chapter names or like different folklore lyrics and songs. and for the goeriga fic it seems like saturn is gonna win so im gonna start working on the fic very soon. pls send in request for fics, hcs or blurbs for kate, georgia, paige, and aubrey. they are the ONLY people im writing for, and a anon asked for dorka but i dont really feel comfortable writing for her because when i first started watching wbb dorka was my comfort player, she just helped me through so much so it makes me feel weird writng something for her but im open to do platonic fics for her! ill be posting chapters every monday for this fic!
-love annie! 🎀
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iamasimperyk · 4 hours
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New assistant -Rafe Cameron
Summary: You are Rafe’s new assistant and ready to seduce him
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Taboo Topic, name calling, cursing, English is not my first language, not proofread
Pairing: CEO!Rafe x Assistant!Reader
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It was your first day as Rafe Cameron's personal assistant.
"Good morning, Sir." You smiled brightly as you entered his office.
His eyes met yours as you came closer to his desk, a slight smirk playing on his lips, "Miss Y/l/n. A pleasure to finally meet you."
His large hand engulfed your smaller one, and you couldn't help but wonder how those fingers would feel touching your skin.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, too." You smiled at him.
"Thank you for taking over Mrs. Johnson's position so quickly," he said, looking into your eyes.
"Of course, I am happy I can work for someone like you." You tried to make him like you, "Black coffee, right?"
He nodded his head, as you leaned over his desk to place the cup, you already had in your hands, on the polished surface.
Looking up at him, you noticed he was staring at your cleavage, "Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Cameron?"
His eyes slowly took in your beautiful hair which was pulled back in a bun, your white silk blouse, and your black skirt that ended three inches above your knees.
"I will call you if there is something to do for you," He mumbled before you turned around and slowly walked out of his office, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. This was going to be fun.
-----
Over the next few weeks, the two of you became very close and continued your subtle teasing.
Today was the day you finally wanted to seduce him. You put on your new dress which had a sweetheart bust that allowed the top of your breasts to show. The dress hugged your body perfectly, showing off your curves.
You heard the elevator open and glanced up as Rafe walked out, wearing an expensive dark blue suit.
"Good morning, Mr. Cameron," You smiled up at him.
He had been reading something on his phone but looked up at your greeting.
He gave you a small nod before he took the stack of papers from you and headed into his office, you quickly walked after him.
He opened his laptop before he looked up at you once again, "What do you think of this email, Miss Y/l/n?"
You walked around the desk, leaning down a bit to get a better look at the computer screen. "Sorry, Sir, but there's nothing there."
"Really? You felt Rafe's hand touch the back of your knee. Slowly it glided up to the top of your bare thigh.
You stepped between his spread thighs, continuing to lean over his desk.
Both of his hands had now found their way beneath your dress. You looked back at Rafe, biting your lip. He reached back, grabbed the hem of your dress, and flipped it up so that your ass was bare to his view.
Rafe groaned and knelt on the floor behind you, starting to suck on your wet clit. After a few minutes, he inserted two fingers inside you.
"Fuck, Mr. Cameron, that feels so good. Oh, yes. You're gonna make me cum." You tried to say as quietly as possible.
When you were about to cum, he pulled back.
He sat back in his chair and unfastened his suit pants. "My turn, Miss Y/l/n."
You immediately knelt down in front of him before you took his hard shaft inside your mouth. You kept moving your mouth up and down until you noticed Rafe was almost ready to cum. You slowed down the movements of your mouth and stood up.
Leaning towards him, you released your breasts from your dress and rubbed them in his face, earning a small groan from him before his hands grasped them.
You bit down your lip, slowly sitting down on his hard dick.
Rafe groaned as he let go of your tits to place his hands on your hips, "That's it. Ride my cock, slut."
He slammed his cock deep inside of you, and you couldn't help but moan. It didn't take long for you to cum, as he started to fill you with his cum.
He held you close as your breathing settled, "You like my new dress, Mr. Cameron?"
He laughed against your neck. "Yes. Very much."
You stood up, straightening your dress, "I better go freshen up."
He smacked your ass as you turned around to leave his office when he called out for you once again, "Clear your schedule, Miss Y/l/n, you will stay at my place for the weekend."
You immediately nodded with a tired smile, "Yes, Sir."
You heard him laughing as you left the room. This is going to be interesting.
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Reckless | Vox x Alastor’s Child— OATSH
If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.
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You attend the overlord meeting. It doesn’t go as planned because of course it wouldn’t.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Vox asked.
He was leaning against the foot of the bed as he watched you get ready for the meeting. You were sitting at the vanity and finishing smocking out your eyeshadow.
“I would really rather it be Velvette,” you said. “I do love you but I don’t trust you to keep your composure.”
“And she’s so level headed?”
“More so than you. At least with Da— Alastor.”
“I. . . Actually can’t disagree with you. But, speaking of heads, do you want me to pack up our exorcist guest?”
“No, but I do plan to talk to Camilla and Zestial afterwards. If anyone will know what happened, it would be one of them.”
“Okay. . . Are you sure—“
“Vox!”
“Alright,” Vox said, raising his hands up as he walked over to you, “I surrender.” He placed those hands on your shoulders and squeezed. “You know all you have to do is call me and I’ll be right there.”
You squeezed his hand. “I know.”
You gave him a kiss as you stood up. Your fingers on the bottom of his screen forced him to look at you when he opened his eyes. A little wave of electricity sparked between his antennae as his eyes opened.
“I’ll call if I need you.”
You saw a flicker of worry cross him before his face glitched for a second and it was gone.
“If that’s what you want.”
He kissed your hand. His fingers twisted your ring to make sure it was secure. He let you walk out.
“Hey,” Zeezi said with a bit of a chuckle in her voice as she shook the floor with her steps. She leaned down to as close to your height as she could and asked in a softer tone, “You okay, babes? I saw the broadcasts.”
“I’m here,” you said simply and she nodded.
Together the two of you walked into the meeting room.
You froze in place, breath quickening when you saw Alastor sitting next to Rosie. The two chatting, as though nothing had changed. As if time hadn’t passed.
“Psst,” Zeezi said.
You looked over and she beckoned you over to her. You sighed and shook your head, a small smile coming to your lips. You walked to her.
She patted her thigh. “Come sit with Missi Zeezi,” she said as she wiggled in her chair before settling. “Come on, Miss Thang.”
You took her outstretched hand and let her pull you into her lap. You nearly toppled backwards onto yourself from the slope that came with how she was forced to bend her knees but you managed to catch yourself. She laughed, a real booming one that vibrates her entire body. It was comforting.
You tail curled around her and wrapped around her own, a silent motion of thanks.
The tink of metal ballet shoes against the floor got everyone quiet. Still, you moved in Zeezi’s lap so you weren’t straddling her thigh and instead had your feet pointed towards the back of the room with your legs crossed. You settled just as Camilla came into the room.
“Welcome, Hell sovereign overlords,” Camilla began, “I’ve invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new extermination schedule. We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest.”
A light hissing and chattering noise accompanied the man clad in black and green as he moved into his seat.
“Zestial, so good to see you, my friend.”
“Enchanted as always, Camilla.”
Zestial summoned himself a cup and saucer and raised it to his lips. It was that motion that caused her to catch a glimpse of—
“Alastor?”
He smiled. You felt a snarl curl on your lips. Your hands in your lap balled into fists. You didn’t register the sting pain that should have been there when your claws dug into your skin.
“Yes, I know, I’ve been absent some time. I’m sure you’ve all been wondering,” he said.
Yes, yes, you had but if your husband wasn’t attending so he couldn’t make a scene then neither could you. You remained silent.
Zeezi’s claw gently worked its way between your hands. The feathers on her wrists softly brushed against your skin. You looked down to see blood beginning to spill over your palms.
She looked down at you with her brows furrowed, a silent question. You shook your head and waved her off. You licked your palm and her nose scrunched up at the sight.
“Not really, but welcome back in any case,” Camilla said.
It wasn’t the snap that caught you attention but barely audible sound of a radio crackling. You knew that crackle meant he was displeased. You licked your lips of the blood and smiled.
“This year’s extermination was brutal,” Camilla said, her accent thickening on her last word, “far more even than years passed. We have assessed that about sixteen percent of the population was lost. With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we—“
She was interrupted by the door slamming open to reveal Velvette. She was wearing a crop top, heigh waisted jeans, and a long jacket, rather reminiscent of the outfits she’d supplied your closet with not long ago.
“Yes, I’ve got it handled, Vox. Are you doubting me? Really? Me?” she said into the phone. “That’s what I thought.”
She laughed as she leaned against her chair. “Yes, I know, they’re all a joke.” She quickly corrected herself when she saw your disapproving look, “‘Cause they’re all just so damn funny. Especially, your sweet darling vixen.”
She rolled her eyes, “I just got here, Vee. What do you want me to do? Already have a goddamn list of every notable expression? Uh-huh, yeah. You’ve got you little ring. You’ll know if somethings wrong. Of course, we will. Thank you, Vee.” She puckered her lips together several times, “Kisses, darling!”
She fell back into her chair.
“Nice of you to join us, Velvette,” Camilla said. “Will Vox be joining us?”
“No! He’s got better shit to do than be in the company of outdated technology that thinks it’s relevant,” Velvette said. “I’m here to represent.”
She held up her phone and made a pointed look at Alastor who’s gums briefly showed before his lips fell into the normal smile he often had. He sat back in his chair. A quick moment where your eyes met, and then it was gone.
Zeezi’s tail squeezed yours softly.
“So, as I was saying, we need to discuss—“ Velvette’s hand shot up. You looked at her, eyes flaring open in warning but she ignored it. “Yes?”
“On the subject of discussion.”
Velvette pulled out an exorcist head and threw it onto the table. The slightly congealed blood was still liquid enough to drip onto the table.
“Oooh, shit!” Zeezi said as she sat up, carefully moving you with her.
Alastor also leaned forward. “Oh, tasty.”
‘What are you doing?’ you mouthed to Velvette.
‘Showing daddy who’s boss’ she mouthed back.
“Where did you get this?” Camilla asked.
“Vox found it during extermination day,” Velvette said simply. “If these holy rollers can be killed, the game has changed.” She jumped up onto the table. “We can take the fight to them. Vox and I have come up with a full assault plan.”
Loud sipping interrupted Velvette for which you were grateful. Zestial slurred from his teacup with intent, making all eyes go to him.
“If it be true thee and thy colleague desire to war with such meager proof, thou art far more foolish than I be thought,” Zestial said.
Velvette scoffed, “‘Meager proof’? It’s a dead fucking exorcist. I’d say that’s pretty fucking definitive. You going blind, old man?
You felt your entire body tense.
“Velvette,” you said between gritted teeth.
“We know not how this perished,” Zestial said. “Mayhaps it was not by a demon’s hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing, mighten they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising.”
Even with the words of agreement, you didn’t untense.
“It could happen.”
You hands began to curl again but you relaxed them.
“Oh, I get it,” Velvette said. You slipped out of Zeezi’s grip. “So grandpa is too pussy to fight so I guess there’s no point, right?”
“What’s the matter, fossil?”
“Velvette!”
“Too senile to make a real power grab?”
“You better show some respect!” Camilla yelled as she got in Velvette’s face. “Check your behavior! No one speaks to Zestial that way!”
You motioned a hand towards Camilla. She backed down, placing the problem in your hands.
“Did you expect them to sit back and take your insolent, brazen display?” you asked.
Velvette took a step away with a mixture of betrayal and confusion written across her doll-like features.
“I know you feel special and I hate to break the news but we can’t afford to lose. There’s too many people here that’d rather live in fear. This has to be a calculated attack, not just one random act,” you said.
You heard Alastor’s chuckle. You whipped around to him. “You showed no respect! Didn’t check your behavior! Did you think it’d be okay? That no one would notice your little va-cay?!
“Left all your souls unwatched and unsupervised. Leaving them vulnerable to heaven’s all seeing eyes. Not all of them are here. You didn’t shed a tear. Could have prevented it. Not like you have a shit. Your people were dying! They were out crying! Had you not been reckless, they wouldn’t be breakfast.
“Let me say this right here, we’re all beyond our years. Too old for this drama. Can’t just do what we wanna. Don’t forget that Heaven’s eyes can probably see our afterlives. We’ve got to be patient. Can’t act fucking brazen. Understand this arrangement. We’ll all be effected so show some respect and don’t be reckless.”
Camilla placed her hand on your shoulder. “Thank you,” she said softly. “As always, even in moments of frustration you remain well spoken.
“Velvette, your information will be taken into consideration. However, as said, this cannot be a random act. We must have all the information, including how this angel died. Does anyone here have information they’d like to share?”
Camilla looked around the room. Her daughters’ eyes didn’t meet hers and though she looked at people, you noticed hers didn’t either.
“Then we have nothing more to discuss,” Camilla said. “Due to high emotions, I believe it best we adjourn this meeting and come back to discuss in some weeks time. Perhaps there will be more information to share then. Until then, this meeting is over.”
“Whatever,” Velvette said as she gave the finger and stormed out.
Camilla walked out of the room quickly. Your head turned that way as your shoulders slumped.
“Zestial,” you said with an unspoken request.
He didn’t respond verbally but he bowed his head and followed Camilla. Everyone else slowly began to filter the room.
“Do you want me to stay, girlie?” Zeezi asked when it was just you, her, and Alastor left.
You shook your head.
“Alright then,” she said as she got up. “You know where to find me if you need some drinks after.”
The room was silent for several long moments. Neither one of you knew what to do, what to say.
Your ears flickered back as you took a steadying breath. “I know we’re twisted but I didn’t think your screws went so loose. Maybe you missed it, but I’ve always cared about you. Thought that you did too. Mad that you acted so reckless. Think maybe I’d expect this.”
You couldn’t look at him as you continued, “Here’s my sorry to me. Guess you never gave a shit. Maybe I should’ve seen it.”
Your face began to prickle. Your eyes and nose burned. “Fuck, why am I crying? Not like you were really dying.”
“Let me explain,” Alastor said as he stood from his seat. “I never meant to cause you this pain. I made a promise I try to keep. It pains me to see you weep.”
You flinched away from his attempt to touch, his hands having gone to try and stroke your hair. A familiar act. “Do you really think I’d be so quick to forgive? Especially after you’ve been allusive?!”
You turned to look at him. “So go on, tell me something true. I’m done being lied to. Spit it all out, knock that smile off your mouth. Let’s see what it’s been about; Why you’ve been so reckless. Let’s get some directness or will you be respectless?”
Alastor didn’t speak. His smile went small. His ears pinned themselves against his head in what seemed like a mockery of your own.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you said, voice going weak. “I’m done with this ‘talk.’”
Vox had been staring at your vitals the entire time. He took note of every time your heart rate spiked. The camera he’d placed on Velvette could only do so much when she wasn’t by your side, looking at what you were like he would if he’d been there with you.
“Velvette,” he growled under his breath when she brought out the angel head.
Maybe he should have gone. Surely a battle between him and Alastor would be more effective than this. At least you’d get to see the man who brought you pain get bloodied instead of getting a new reason to worsen your migraine.
When Velvette slammed the door as she entered, he didn’t even flinch. He had turned off her camera as soon as you were no longer in sight and the microphone no longer picked up what you were saying.
“Ungrateful brat!”
Oh, that got his attention.
He whipped around, eye swirling, and his voice coming out distorted, “What did you just say?”
“Your little toy decided to fuck up my entire plan and everyone, even you, got a front row fucking seat!” Velvette screeched as she threw down the camera that Vox had planted on her. She squished it with her shoe.
Vox laughed but he wasn’t amused. “Let me make something very clear, Velvette, you are not to talk about my wife in that manner. My wife, who— mind you— has been an overlord longer than you’ve been alive! Did you even think that maybe there was a reason I told you to leave the fucking head in her goddamn weapons’ room?!”
“Well, maybe I would’ve done it if you told me why!”
“You didn’t need to know and it’s for exactly this reason!” Vox took a deep breath. “You were supposed to sit still and listen. That’s all you had to do, Velvette—“
“And you couldn’t do that instead?” Velvette challenged.
“I’ve known Alastor for nearly seventy years,” Vox said. “We have a history and most of it involves fighting. You’ve known him for not even ten and you’ve interacted with him a grand total of fourteen times excluding today. One would think that you’d be able to keep your composure which is the entire point of you going to the meeting in the first place. How many times have I made you go to a meeting?”
Velvette didn’t answer. Instead she looked away from him.
“Don’t be a child,” he said, his voice glitching once again and his eyes spiraling. “How many times have I made you go to an overlord meeting? Answer me!”
“None!”
“And the one time I do, you fuck it up! I know you feel like you’re invincible, but know your place,” Vox gritted from his teeth. “You only got here because of us. Act like it!”
Velvette glared at Vox. Then she stormed away.
Vox panted for a moment. His fists clenched. He turned to look at your vitals. He calmed when he saw they were normal.
He watched them for the rest of the night. Watched as they would slightly spike occasionally before going into a slightly faster but steady rhythm.
Vox didn’t even flinch when he opened his eyes as you appeared on his lap. Your breath reeked of alcohol.
“I love you,” you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He sighed and finally relaxed. “I love you too.”
He rested his head against your curls. One hand went to rest above your heart. The other carefully embraced your tail as it curled up his arm. His claws held the fur in a gentle grip.
You nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck. Your ears tickled his screen as they flickered.
“I wanna go to bed,” you said.
“We can do that.”
He got up. His arms were beneath you to support your weight. He carried you to the bedroom. Before he closed the door he whistled.
You groaned. He chuckled. “Sorry, doll.”
Vark came running into the bedroom. Vox closed the door with his foot.
He sat you on the bed and pulled off your shirt. He unclipped your bra. He slipped off your shoes and your pants followed. He then undressed himself as you pulled at the blankets.
He saddled up beside you. You quickly curled onto his chest. He patted the bed and Vark jumped up. The shark curled up against your back.
“I love you,” you said as you began to doze.
“I love you too,” he said.
As soon as the words came from your mouth he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear them and it only slipped due to the alcohol, “Don’t leave me.”
His chest tightened. His heart shattered at those three little words.
He placed one hand atop yours and squeezed it. His other pulled you even closer to him.
“Never, doll,” he promised. “I’ll never leave you.”
If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.
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much-ado-about-whomst · 6 months
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The brain rot has set in
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ef-1 · 5 months
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burn your village | female rage playlist
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lexosaurus · 7 months
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this message is brought to you by viewers like you. thank you.
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tabooiart · 10 months
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i like dinah a normal amount i think
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berryblu-arts · 1 month
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of siblings who get dragged through gateways and defiant children who make deals with gods, i guess...
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Saw Susi in the fast pass thumbnail and got hyped hehehe
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wyrmswears · 2 years
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@y4rdbird made me have thoughts hence the redesign of my athena is arrested au design
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id in readmore
[ID: A full body illustration of Athena Cykes from the Ace Attorney series. She is a light skinned human with long ginger hair that she has tied up in a ponytail, however in this design it also has white streaks in her side fringe. She has blue eyes with eyebags visible, and is wearing large light grey headphones with blue highlights and antennae, and a light yellow ribbon. Her outfit consists of a white blouse, a yellow jump, grey trousers, and light grey boots with blue highlights. Additionally, she wears a grey glove on her right hand and a gadget around her neck called Widget that displays a simple face with a neutral expression, and she has a gold moon charm hanging from her belt. End ID.]
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wingsofwater · 1 year
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:o)
[alt version + id under cut]
[ID : a digital drawing of burn the sandwing from wings of fire. she is a large, spiny dragon with many scars, several broken claws, a torn sail and a broken horn. her patterns are inspired by bearded vultures and beetlejuice, appearing almost clown-like with spade motifs; notably a white spade pattern covering the majority of her face, along with a smaller black spade on her nose and stripes over her eyes, while the rest of her body is covered in dark, featherlike spots. her horns and claws are alternating black and white, and she has wide, acid green eyes with irises that alternate black-white-black. she is lying on her back, appearing to be curled up in pain. one of her talons lies limply beside her head, the other reaching towards the viewer. a black and white snake curls around it, teeth sunk into her wrist, the tail of the snake trailing down her arm to curl around her head. her face is covered in acid green splatters, dripping from her mouth, nose, and eyes, the same liquid dripping down her arm from where the snake bites her. the background is a bright yellow, the image being tinted in to make her colors appear tan, black, and brown. END ID]
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[ID : the same image as above, heavily edited so the colors are now darker yet more saturated, bringing out hints of purples around the darkest parts of the image and blues around the lighter parts. END ID]
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unable2sitstill · 10 months
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AYYYYYYYY BLACK BUTLER SCHOOL ARC ANIME CONFIRMED
FAG MOMENT FAG MOMENT FAG MOMENT
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only-lonely-www · 1 year
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I tried to see if I could still draw the four characters I claimed as “mine” back in the day (like six years ago) without reference
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Photo
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whac-a-mole
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rainswept · 4 months
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Crow, please tell me a story about your time in Fontaine? Any story will do.
this one time i was hanging out w my friend, we stumbled across a hydroculus that i had not been able to get for the life of me (with only 5? hydroculi left), and he unlocked it for me in like 2 seconds. i was elated and very upset
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luveline · 3 months
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 
Total quiet. 
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 
“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 
“Where are you?” 
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 
“Where was I?” 
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 
“Still where?” 
“Did you hit your head?” 
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 
“…What?” 
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 
“I annoy people.” 
“You don’t annoy me.” 
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 
“Am I in trouble?” 
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 
“I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 
“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 
“She kind of looked like you.” 
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says. 
“Do you?” 
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 
“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 
“What jokes, babe?” 
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 
“Spencer, you remember everything.” 
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 
You’re happy to. 
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 
“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 
— — 
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 
“So you want three?” 
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 
The avocado is making him feel sick. 
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 
“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.” 
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said. 
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
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