#like down to like how less colorful the set of Henry’s office even gets when it becomes Potter’s office. v interesting

[flyingflosser09]

Cursed / Armando Salazar x OC / Chapter 31

Warning: Mild spice coming up. Marked with *** where it begins and ends.

One month later…

“Do you, Armando, take Samira as your lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

The first thing the servant girl said when she opened the windows in my room this morning, was, “Lovely weather we’re having today, miss. It seems your wedding day is blessed.”

And indeed, it is – I’ve blessed it myself.

My happiness and excitement reflect in the weather as there is not a cloud in sight and blue skies stretch on as far as the eye can see. The sea is bright and glittering as gentle waves crash against the rocks in splashes of foam. And when the children left their houses to play this morning, they found the beach littered with seashells of every shape, size, and color under the sun.

“The sea gods must be in a good mood today,” the servant girl also said.

“Oh, they are,” I replied with a coy smile.

She helped me into my dress – sea foam white with pearls sewn into the bodice and dainty, lace sleeves that flare out at my elbows. I told her to leave my hair down, but to braid a part of it as I know Armando prefers it loose. Although, she was very confused when I refused to wear the heels that came with the dress. Honestly, boots are so much more comfortable, and no one will see them underneath the dress anyway.

Once she’s done with me, I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. I looked…beautiful.

Never in all my life would I have thought I’d someday wear a wedding dress, even less get married to a formerly cursed Spanish Capitán on his ship in Spain.

But here we are, standing on the quarter deck of the newly restored Silent Mary exchanging our vows while the crew, Henry, Carina, Elizabeth, and Will were gathered on the main deck, watching the ceremony.

It feels like dolphins are flipping in my stomach when Armando says, “Sí, I do.”

Seven seas preserve, Santa Maria, he looks dashing in that uniform with those medals reflecting in the sun. And his hair in that low ponytail… holy marlins, I cannot, I can’t, I am unbale to can. If this man has the slightest idea how handsome he is, he’d turn himself into a weapon. If I were a pirate, I’d surrender myself to him on the spot.

“Do you, Samira, take Armando as your lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?” The padre’s aging voice brings me back to the present.

“I do.” As I said that, a slight breeze rustles the skirts of my dress and passes through the crowd, making them aware of just how happy I am.

I hardly hear the rest until the padre finally says the words, “You may now kiss –”

But he doesn’t get to finish before I throw myself into Armando’s arms and kiss him madly in front of our friends and family. And he doesn’t hesitate to lift me off the deck and spinning us around.

The Spanish officers cheer the loudest, especially Magda surprisingly, and some even whistle above the noise. We both laugh as we break the kiss – no doubt scarring the padre for life at how much affection we displayed before him – and head down to interact with the others.

I head straight for Henry and fully welcome the hug he gives. “Damn, how the miss the days you were shorter than me.”

Beside him, Carina suppresses a laugh.

“We are so happy for you,” he smiles brightly before Elizabeth cuts in.

“You are in for the biggest adventure of your life, Samira,” she says in a motherly way. “Marriage isn’t always easy, but always remember; it’s never you against your husband, but rather the two of you against the world. Have you thought about the honeymoon yet?”

“We’re setting sail in the morning, off to explore some of the lesser-known islands that don’t appear on any maps.”

“Now you’re just making me jealous,” she tuts but winks.

Turning to Carina, I embrace her with a hug. “And how are you these days? I hope Henry isn’t boring you with talks of mythical treasures that can break curses.”

She looks from Henry to me as if saying, ‘Oh, he is, but I tolerate it.’ “He is rather talkative, but he’s cute so I guess I’d keep him.”

Henry’s face drops, “When did you make that decision?”

“Shh, Henry, the girls are talking now,” I poke some fun at him and say to Carina, “And how are things with your father?”

“We’re making progress.”

I shake my head in feigned shock. “I still can’t believe he survived the Tomb of Poseidon. How did you find him after that?”

“I can’t wrap my head around it either,” she admits, “I was still thinking he was dead when I saw him drifting in the water. He was barely alive and freezing but managed to pull through.”

“The ocean is truly a mystery,” Henry agrees but looks at me knowingly. I maintain an innocent expression, not giving anything away.

Up until sunset, everyone enjoyed themselves at the feat laid out on the shore. There were all sorts of exotic foods, rich meats, tropical salads, desert, cakes, and chocolates all the way from France – I’d rather not ask what bank Armando had to rob to arrange all this. Perhaps it is his newfound friendship with the king that made all this possible.

King Ferdinand VI was welcoming to us when we docked in Spain a month ago. He listened to the crew’s story and learned they served the previous king, his father. And considering his father was a great king, King Ferdinand restored Armando and his crew’s titles and citizenships in Spain. He had the Mary restored at his expense and we were able to set sail in two weeks’ time – if it wasn’t for the upcoming wedding.  

In the meantime, we were given accommodation in the palace until we could sort out our housing matters. In that time, most of the crew set out to locate what is left of their old lives. Many returned heartbroken but at peace with knowing the truth, while others were more fortunate.

Santos found his sister in his childhood house. She’s much older than him now and married a baker. Together they have four children, and Santos was overjoyed to learn he is an uncle.

Moss located his mother, now deep in her seventies, living alone in a tiny house. She had built a shrine for him in her room that she tended to for twenty-five years and couldn’t believe it when he walked through the door. She thought it was his ghost, or age playing a trick on her.

Many lives were changed after the curse was broken, and today, it’s me and Armando’s turn.

Near the end of the fest, the toasts began and Lesaro was first. “Marriage means commitment. Of course, so does insanity. You two must be truly insane or madly in love. Either way, I wish you clear skies and still tides as you embark on this journey.”

“I’m sure Samira doesn’t feel that way,” comments Santos, “She quite loves storms and rocking ships.” Everyone burst out laughing as he gives his toast, “May you live each day like your last and live each night like your first.”

“Santa Maria…” Lesaro can only shake his head.

When it’s Magda’s turn, he sighs heavily. “Mierda… fine, I will go.” Standing up, he says, “In my opinion, wives are more dangerous than pirates. Pirates want either your treasure or life…wives want both. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Capitán.”

Feigning an indignant gasp, I grab Lesaro’s hat off his head and throw it at Magda, hitting him in the face. Beside me, Armando shakes with laughter as Magda can only gape in astonishment.

“You know what that’s for,” I tell him, referring to all the times he threw me with hats in the Triangle during our training, and say to the Lieutenant, “Lesaro, I apologize.”

“No, no, it’s okay. He deserved it.”

Finally, Moss gives his toast, “Getting married is like reading Shakespeare – you get comedy, you get romance, and you get a whole lot of history and tragedy. I wish you less of the latter and more of the former.”

At the end of the feast, we danced on the beach for hours before the crew headed to the nearest tavern to continue the celebrations on their own. I bid my goodbye to Henry and his family before letting Armando lead me aboard the Mary.

The sun is already setting, painting the horizon gold, and reflecting off the rolling waves. We wait until everyone is out of sight before Armando and me both slump against the wooden rail, exhausted after a whole day of entertaining.

“As enjoyable as that was,” he says, “I’m never getting married again.”

“You better not,” I give him a shove with my shoulder, “You’re stuck with me now, hombre.”

He chuckles in a deep tone that makes me shiver. “I see that mouth of yours still works. What else can it do, eh?”

“Come here and find out for yourself, mi esposo.”

His lips curve upward into a handsome smile, but there is a glint in his eyes that tells me I’m in for the ride of my life. In a swift, effortless motion, he lifts me up and carries me to the great cabin.

Unlike the time I had to make a living in it, the cabin is newly furnished with a massive bed covered in soft, silky covers. It could easily fit four people in it. There are handmade wooden wardrobes lining the walls on either side of the door, and a new desk and table stand where the old, broken ones were. The smell of smoke no more lingers in the air, but instead, I smell the glue they used to restore the ship with a hint of wood polish to add that extra shine to the furniture.

Armando sets me down on the table – the very same spot where he indulged me the first time – and slowly begins kissing my neck. The burning trail his lips leave on my skin, renders me wanting in seconds.

I pull myself closer to him, arching my back so we’re chest to chest and for him to, hopefully, realize my desperation. The sultry smirk he gives me tells me I’m succeeding. “Impatient, eh?”

Feeling the need to poke a bit of fun, I retort, “Impatient? No, never. It’s been my plan all along to seduce the Capitán  of the Silent Mary and break his curse so he will spend his life devoted to me. I’ve been planning it for years. I own his heart; he just doesn’t know it yet.”

My stomach flutters when he breathes a laugh. Before I can guess his next move, I emit a sound of surprise when he lifts my left leg onto his shoulder. He meets my eyes and I fall victim to the depths of those dark pools. Just looking at him, how handsome he is, makes me want to jump overboard to extinguish the fire that is spreading through my body. He’s perfect in every possible way.

Although his next words are my undoing. “You might not be a witch, Samira, but you have me completely and utterly under your spell. You own more than just my heart, el mía.”

Santa Maria…

I emit a shaky, heavy breath while my mouth has gone completely dry. Dammit, I want to indulge this man until both of us can’t tell East from West.

And that smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what his words did to me. Chuckling, he says, “Patience, señorita. We have all night to indulge.”

The fact that he said it so deep and velvety while my ankle is right next to his head, doesn’t help the knot forming in my stomach at all.

Without tearing his eyes from mine, Armando slides the hem of the skirt up my shin…and pauses. A slight frown settles between his brows as he looks to the side and sees boots where my ankle should be.

His face says everything: I wore boots underneath my dress to our wedding?

And then he laughs.

And that makes me laugh.

And soon, we’re laughing so hard that he needs to hold on to the table to remain standing. He shakes his head while catching his breath. “I should’ve known.”

“I must admit, I became spoiled during my time on the Mary,” I confess, cheeks glowing red from laughter. “Boots are much more comfortable than heels. I hoped I’d get away with it.”

He sighs in content and slides his hand along the back of my leg, stopping under my calve. “I love you so much, you know that.”

“I do,” I swallow, feeling the heat of his hand seep into my leg, “But I think you should give me a demonstration.”

“Sí, señorita.”

I emit a slow, shaky breath as he delicately slips the boot off my foot – taking his time doing so, mind you. He chucks it aside before trailing his lips up the bridge of my foot, eventually stopping at my ankles. He gives each a kiss so soft, I had to remind myself to breathe as to not faint at the very sight of it. After repeating the ritual on the other foot, my body is ablaze and ready for whatever he wishes to do with me.

“Should I undo my own lacings, or are you going to help me out of this dress?” I choke out while he’s in the process of trailing kisses up my shin.

Armando chuckles against my shin. “So impatient.”

Nonetheless, he gently lowers my leg and I waste no time hopping off the table, turning my back so he can do what he’s done so many times before.

“By now, I assume you’d be used to undressing me,” I joke, referring the times he helped with my lacings in the Triangle.

“This?” he frowns and shakes his head. “No, this I will never get used to. I think I will make undressing you my new mission.”

“So, you will set sail every day just to undress me every evening?”

“Sí.”

His fingers set to work to undo the lacing of my dress, and I feel the corset slowly loosen. But this time, he follows through and slips the bodice off my shoulders, pushing it all the way down to my waist. I waste no time to slip my arms through the sleeves, more than ready to be rid of all this fabric.

Turning around, I stand halfway bare before him. For a moment, all he can do is stare, dark eyes drinking me in as they cloud with desire.

I assume he likes what he sees, for the next thing I know, I am back on the table while his hands explore the delicate plains of my stomach, gliding up the curves of my waist, before stopping at my breasts. Any sound that nearly escaped my mouth gets muffled when his lips collide with mine. This kiss is wild, primal, and pulsing with desire, I find it impossible to wait a moment longer.

While his hands are occupied by with my breasts, mine work the silver buttons of his uniform in haste. He helps by shrugging it off and that leaves him in a thin white undershirt that displays his chest so wonderfully.

But I want him wearing less, and without any regard for the shirt, I rip it open and push the torn material off his shoulders. I’m pleased to find him dusted with dark chest hair that reaches all the way to his collarbone, and immediately let my hands dance over his muscled pectorals.

“Ready to be indulged, mi amor?” Armando hums against my lips, trailing the back of his fingers down my breast and over the peak.

I nod before finding my voice, “Yes.”

***

Armando lifts me off the table and carries me to the bed. My back tingles as he lies me down on the cool, silky blankets and I waste no time to push the rest of the wedding dress down my hips.

At last, I lay bare before him, and all he could do for a full minute was to drink it in, dark eyes admiring every part of me with feral want.

He moves fast to undo his belt and briskly removes the rest of his uniform, finally appearing just as bare as me. My cheeks are glowing by now, but I shamelessly stare at him – all of him – in complete and utter awe.  

The tension is heavy with want as he moves toward the bed, and I sit up on my knees to meet him halfway. We’re chest to chest as our lips collide, hands exploring uncharted waters, gripping, touching, and stroking every place that brought the other pleasure. His excitement presses warm and hard against my lower abdomen, and I eagerly discover what pleasures my hands can bring him.

More than once, I managed to get a breathless moan out of him before he returned the favor, hands and fingers delving deeper than they did the first time we tried this. I nearly cry out loud when I feel him at my entrance, clinging onto his shoulders to keep quiet.

“Tonight, I want you to be as loud as you want, mi corazón,” his breathless voice sends shivers through my body. “It is only us and the Mary. Hold nothing back.” Stealing a glance of my writhing form beneath him, he smirks. “I believe you’re ready now.”

Armando lies me down on the pillows and positions himself between my legs. One hand guides my thigh up and hooks my leg around his waist. He leans down to kiss me again, tongue tracing my lips in the most sensual manner before whispering, “Ready, mi amor?”

I nod rapidly, chest having as my breath races eagerly. “Yes…please.”

Without further ado, he closes the remaining space between us, moving painfully slow so I can take my time adjusting to this new feeling. His ragged breaths turn into a moan once he is settled fully inside me, before kissing the nape of my neck in appreciation. “Good girl. When you’re ready, my love.”

For a moment, it hurts. But with the way his lips work their magic on my neck and collarbone, lust replaces pain and roll my hips against his, begging him to start moving.

And so, we begin this intimate ritual. Armando moves both slow and hard, his lips never neglecting their duty as they explore every inch of my skin within their reach. My hands have found their way to his hair, undoing the string that kept it tied and watch with clouded eyes as his dark locks cascade around us. I wanted to run my fingers through them so many times now, and tonight, I can finally satisfy that urge.

To my astonishment, his breath actually hitches when I gently tug on his root, throwing him off rhythm for just a moment.

I gape at him in playful surprise. “Oh, you like that?”

“If you keep doing that, Samira, I might finish sooner than I’d like.” Damn, his voice is so deep and gravelly, I just had to give his hair another pull. His head drops to the crook of my neck and this time, he actually moans.

I feel a wave of confidence hit and, in that moment of bliss, I roll us over so he’s at the bottom.

“Santa Maria…”

Taking a firm hold of his hands, I guide them over my body to every place I need to be touched. Gone is the calm before the storm and I fully welcome the wildness that’s taken control of my body. Somehow, I know just what to do to hear him curse under his breath.

The waves know to crash at the shore just as the ocean knows the tide is high at night. Just like that, every roll of my hips, every touch of his hands, every heavy breath we share, is precise and perfect.

The knot in my stomach tightens and I feel myself reaching the end of the storm. Armando notices it too and quickly flips me over, hooking both my legs behind his back before resuming the pace impossibly fast.

I’m a writhing, moaning, arching mess as he brings me closer to the edge, but in the end, it’s his sultry voice that gives me the release I need. “Let go, pequeño. Hold nothing back.”

The knot in my stomach snaps and I plunge into endless depths of pleasure. Wave after wave of bliss washes over me, my body convulsing against his as his name falls from my lips like a prayer. And just as I thought I am completely spent, his release follows and spills into me, warm and hot and ultimately, making me come again.

Armando decreases his speed to a slow, sensual pace until we’re both equally spent, and eventually, slows to a stop. Only then, do we notice the Mary rocking violently from side to side, my pleasure no doubt having caused waves to crash against it.

***

Breathing a laugh, Armando tucks the stray hair over my forehead behind my ear. “I take it it was good then?”

I nod breathlessly, “It was perfect. Let’s go again.”

“Again, eh?” He rolls onto his back and pulls me onto his lap to straddle his waist. “How can I refuse such a request from my wife?”

Wife.

The title makes me smile uncontrollably. “I just realized; I never had a last name before. Maybe long ago, but I can’t remember it. Samira Salazar has a nice ring to it.” I reach out to play with his hair, but instead he takes my hand to kiss my palm. That simple yet intimate gesture is enough to fill me with new desire, and I slow rock my hips to get him to follow.

Armando laughs, a deep, masculine sound that makes my stomach do flips. “Dios mío, you are very impatient, you know that?”

“It gets worse if I’m kept waiting,” I joke.

“In that case,” he grips my rear and settles me fully onto him, “I will not keep my señorita waiting.”

…

The crew of the Silent Mary are all enjoying themselves at the local tavern near the beach. It’s a decent place with fine wine, strong ale, and a lively band playing on the stage. All around, people are dancing and having fun. Although there is a lot of drinking, no one is particularly drunk to compare the tavern with those found in vile places like Tortuga. No, the people here are respectful and only enjoy good conversations and music.

However, they are celebrating a wedding, and although the bride and groom aren’t present, the officers don’t let that stop them from enjoying the night.

Magda might have had one glass to many, for he’s abandoned his stern mindset and is now on top of the stage, leading the band in song. He really does have a magnificent voice.

Moss and Santos cheer him on with drinks in their hands, while Lesaro had to turn his back to hide the obvious fact that he’s laughing. Wait until the Capitán  and Samira hears about this. Magda will never know the end of their torment.

It is when the Lieutenant wipes the tears from his good eye, that he catches the movement through the tavern’s window.

“Amigos,” he taps Santos on the back, “Come look at this.”

Santos and Moss quickly leave their seats to see what he’s pointing at. However, also curious, the rest of the officers follow suit, leaving a half-sober Magda scratching his head on the stage. Frowning, he decides to investigate and hurriedly pushes his way to the front.

“The Mary…” Santos’ eyes widen, “She’s…rocking.”

Lesaro huffs in satisfaction, “I was right, now pay up Miguel.”

Magda blinks. “Hold on, how do we know it’s not a storm picking up?”

“You know how to foresee the weather; did it look like raining earlier to you?” Lesaro argues.

“There’s no wind in the air,” Moss adds and receives a glare from Magda that says, ‘You’re not helping.’

But the sound of a gigantic wave crashing against the Mary’s waterline makes them all jump, followed by a gust of wind that blows the hats clean off their heads.

“Santa Maria…” breathes Santos and looks at the others knowingly, “I think they’re done.”

Lesaro looks back at Magda. “Pay up, Miguel.”

The officer in question rolls his eyes before tossing a gold coin at the Lieutenant, who pockets it in sly content. Grinning in victory, he calls above the music to the other officers, “Now who says they will go for round two? My money’s on the next five minutes!”

And like one man, they shout their wagers.

#armando salazar #armando #salazar #pirates of the caribbean: dead men tell no tales #pirates of the caribbean #potc dmtnt #potc #dmtnt #jack sparrow #henry turner

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!! 

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure. 

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg fic #my writing #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds

[softluci]

talking to myself

[to begin, i wanna give a TW for mentions of m/rder, as well as s/icide and s/icidal jokes and thoughts; i know that i personally make a lot of jokes like these and so do a lot of my friends and people in general, but i also know that this can be really triggering for a lot of people, so if you are one of those people, this is not the post for you. take care of yourselves.] 

i’m, like, 100% sure that this is something associated with younger people, but in case it isn’t, i’ll just talk about myself. so, i talk to myself a lot. like, a lot. even more than i used to now that i’m alone a lot of the time. and the things that i say (and my friends also say), while they have no basis in reality, they are thoroughly unhinged. and i know that. but! i also find it incredibly funny and i wanted to do a set of headcanons for an mc who talks to themselves like that. some examples of things i say, some of which are things i picked up from my friends, include: 

“you’re sick” (/neg) “this is deranged” “the derangement” “i am insane” “i can’t take it anymore” [sobbing] “this is getting annoying, i need a fucking gun.” “i’m gonna kill myself and ruin everyone’s day.” “and it’s like, why, you know?”  “i’m gonna start killing people” “oh my god, i’m totally buggin” “get the FUCK—” “every day, i am provoked to rage” [unprovoked, uncontrollable laughter] “this reality...it wants me to be a murderer.” “i will kill.” “i don’t wanna” “it’s an illness that you have” “i would kill myself in front of you and permanently alter the trajectory of your life.” “it is time for the immense power of violence.” “don’t make me get violent~” “okay so just die then.” “i’m gonna rip you apart with my teeth.” “i’ll just die, that’s fine.”  and so on, and so forth. 

this is kinda long, but whatever, mc is gn, let’s have fun.

lucifer 

lucifer liked to think that he’d gotten used to you and your tendency to speak with little to no thought. he didn’t love this about you, but he certainly learned to expect it as the days went by. what he didn’t know, however, was that you talked to yourself. his guess was that you’d been refraining from doing so around him, as there was literally no other explanation for what had just happened to his state of being.

he was on his way to the kitchen, just to get some coffee before heading back to his office, when he heard something hit the floor. it didn’t sound like anything broke, so he wasn’t too concerned, but, nevertheless, he quickened his pace. 

he was not prepared for what you said, nor the venom you said it with, as he heard—

“this reality...it wants me to be a murderer, an instrument of evil...fine.”

you definitely weren’t expecting him to approach you as quickly as he did and grab your chin the way he did, but he was making sure you weren’t possessed. upon finding out that, no, you weren’t possessed, you’d just dropped a spoon, he took about seventeen points of psychic damage. 

mc, he is old and tired and he’s not used to this new flavor of humans who like to say the most deranged things they can think of whenever they’re slightly inconvenienced. you are shaving decades off of his life. he can’t tell you to refrain from doing that because you have been, so he is going to take it upon himself to try and make your life easier whenever he can. hopefully it’ll work, and you won’t be moved to unhinge yourself from your sanity the next time you make a small mistake. 

mammon

mammon is around you often enough to know that you talk to yourself every now and again. nothing too out of the ordinary, maybe some comments about the homework you were working on or whatever you were doing on your d.d.d. he was also around you often enough to know that the things you said weren’t always well thought-out, or thought-out at all. he wasn’t judging, he had no place to, he knew that, but—you know, he can’t say he was prepared for this. 

he was on his way to your room, as per usual, when, as he got to your doorway, you were overcome by something vile and you said, “i will kill.”

he has never burst into your room faster. he’s in your face, he’s yelling, his hands are on your shoulders, he’s this close to thrashing you around in hopes that whatever evil crawled inside of you while he wasn’t looking will come flying out—

what...did you say? you made a mistake on your homework? you made a mistake on your homework and your next course of action was to make anyone in a 300 foot radius think you’re possessed? you’re more boneheaded than he thought, and you should feel ashamed at this moment because this is the resident bonehead speaking. moving on, though. 

how can he make you into a happier person overall so that this doesn’t happen? if you don’t know, he’ll just attach himself to your hip so he can find out. congratulations, he’s never leaving you alone.

levi

levi is no stranger to saying things he doesn’t mean in moments of stress—this is just what happens when a person spends a lot of time playing games online. he’s said some pretty off-color things during matches, strings of curses, and the like, but he has never said, nor heard anything like what just left your mouth.

“i’m gonna start killing people.”

at first, he didn’t really react, giving you a quick glance and asking, “in the game, right?”

upon being met with silence, he looked to see you gripping your controller too tightly to actually use it, and asked again, “in the game, right?”

you blinked, apparently freed from whatever rage induced trance you slipped into, and turned towards him, “did you say something?”

he blinked at you once, twice, like the gears in his head were turning, and then—hysteria. 

he has you pinned to the floor with your wrists above your head, horns protruding from his scalp, and he is screaming—who are you, what have you done with mc, tell him your name before he summons lotan, leave his friend alone, and so on and so forth. he was interrogating you before you could even process the situation enough to feel fear. 

once he got over the bulk of his panic, he heard you screaming back at him, telling him it was you, you weren’t possessed, just talking to yourself, and let go of your wrists before he breaks them—he understood, kind of. he has no idea why you’d choose a phrase like that for when you’re annoyed, but at least you weren’t possessed! his henry was safe after all ^_^

he was so relieved that it took him a few seconds to realize he was still…pinning you down…and straddling you…so, naturally, more hysteria.

satan 

he’d actually grown fond of you and your tendency to speak with no thought or regard for the consequences of your actions—mainly because it stressed lucifer out, but he was fond of it nonetheless. it made you all the more interesting, more fun to talk to, and it helped him read you better. he liked to pick you apart by way of conversation, and he liked to do it as often as possible. 

presently, he was on his way to the library to meet you. the two of you were set to talk about a series you decided to read together. as he approached the doorway, he heard your voice, but no one else’s. he smiled in place of a laugh. were you talking to yourself? how cute—

“every day...i am provoked to rage unimaginable. why?” 

before you could even finish exhaling, he was above you, holding your face in his hands. from the glow of his eyes, you could tell he was barely keeping it together, but you had no idea what was wrong. did he hear what you said?

he said your name carefully, swiping his thumbs under your eyes. “have we been spending too much time together?” 

he was rubbing off on you, in the worst possible way. how could he have allowed this to happen? what has he done to you? where did this anger of yours come from? it has to be because of him. it would hurt, but he would distance himself from you at once, if that’s what—

“ah, did you hear what i said? i talk to myself like this all the time, satan, i’ve been doing it since before we even met. sorry if i frightened you.” 

he blinked, hands dropping to your shoulders. he was relieved, but so, so confused. 

“well,” he started, “then let’s talk about that instead.” 

asmo 

if you’d been refraining from talking to yourself around lucifer, you definitely did it for asmo too. there was no one in this house who wanted to see you angry less than he did. anger was such an ugly emotion, wasn’t it? he much preferred sadness; it was easier to manage, both in himself and others. 

of course, he could never think about being angry or sad when he was with you! how could he, when he’s with one of his favorite people? presently, he was on his way to your room to pick you up for one of your weekly outings. oh, you left the door open for him and everything! he was about to call out to you, but then he heard you talking to someone—he had no idea who it possibly could’ve been because he had no idea you could even sound like that when speaking to a sentient being. 

“i will rip you apart with my fucking teeth.” 

he had his arms around you before you even knew he was in your room. it seemed like a hug, and in a way, it was! the intent was to keep you in place so you couldn’t run away, rather than to comfort you, but it’s not like you could tell; his arms were around you all the time anyway.

“mc, light of my life, apple of my eye, who are you talking to?”

you twisted in his hold to face him, “i talk to myself all the time, asmo, you can ask anyone.”

he hummed, staring at you for a while before changing his hold on you into an actual hug. 

“you had me worried for a minute, darling~”

he didn’t really believe you, but he figured he would know if you were lying, and he could definitely handle whatever vile thing wormed its way into you while nobody was looking. best case scenario, he really didn’t have anything to worry about, and worst case scenario, you started speaking in tongues in the middle of majolish. if the latter happened to occur, he was strong enough to purge a lower demon from your body. it might hurt a lot a little , but at least you’d be safe!

beel 

for the most part, beel didn’t feel any particular way about your inclination to say words with no thought behind them. it was just something you did, like anything else was; he accepted it the same way he accepted everything else about you because that’s what friends do for each other. however—he would be lying if he said you didn’t upset him at times. 

like today—he was set to do his homework with you, on his way to the living room with an armful of snacks, when he heard something like the tip of a pencil breaking. it didn’t bother him, but it seemed to bother you. a lot. 

“i—i’ve had it, i’m gonna kill myself and ruin everyone’s goddamn day.” 

all of his snacks scattered across the floor when he dropped them to get to you. his hands were on your shoulders, but he wasn’t grabbing you. fortunately (or, unfortunately), belphie did this around him all the time, so he knew what to do, albeit it wasn’t much. 

slowly, he pulled you into a hug. not a crushing one, but enough to keep you from going anywhere. 

you started to explain yourself, telling him you do this all the time, that you didn’t mean it, that you were fine. it did nothing to reassure him because those were all of belphie’s usual phrases, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

“i know,” he started, pulling away from you. “i’m just making sure you don’t go anywhere. i like having you around. that’s all.”

belphie 

alright, this house isn’t big enough for the two of you. he is the vocally unwell person around these parts, he is the one who everyone is concerned about at all times, thank you very much. he was the one who made the jokes about death. he was the one with the concerning one-liners. that was all him. he wasn’t proud of it, he didn’t like the fact that things were this way, but it was what it was. he didn’t want you to be like him, and yet, there you were doing exactly that—even if you didn’t know. 

he was in your room, in your bed, actually— unbeknownst to you—because he was having trouble sleeping. you were somewhere in the house, on your way there, and once you arrived, it seemed like you were stressed. he didn’t know for sure, but he had a hunch that something was just eating away at you because as soon as you came in the door, you threw your bag on the ground and said—

well, you didn’t say anything, at first. the first thing you did was laugh. it was unrestrained, loud, and completely void of joy. and then, you said, “i can’t—i can’t fucking do this, i’ll just die, that’s fine, that’s okay.” 

he sat up faster than he has in the last century, deciding to be merciful and overlook how hard you gasped when you saw he was there. 

“belphie? why are you in my room?” 

he stood up, approaching you at a snail’s pace, “i couldn’t sleep, i was waiting for you, next question—why did you say what you just said?” 

before you could even start your usual explanation—you do this all the time, it’s fine, you’re fine—he was speaking again. 

“and don’t—don’t even try that, ‘it’s fine, ask anyone,’ shit with me, that’s my go-to, so you’re gonna have to come up with something new.” 

he looked at you expectantly, reaching behind you to close the door, locking it soon after. 

“belphie—”

he pulled you to your bed, falling onto it with you and holding you in place. 

“i have been doing this for much longer than you, and i will be doing it for a long time after you. i’d like to postpone the latter for as long as possible, so i would appreciate it if you talked to me.”

#i have had this sitting in my head for MONTHS but anyway #yea something is definitely not right with me #but also like... it's ok; u can laugh; it's funny >:] #obey me #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

[searchingwardrobes]

It’s Been . . . a DAY 2/3

One month a few days, and finally I bring you chapter two! Sorry for the wait. Are you ready for Killian to have a bad day? And maybe a certain blonde makes it better?

Summary: Emma Swan bursts into Killian’s life in spectacular fashion - when her three year old pees on his office floor. Nevertheless, Killian is mesmerized by this tenacious woman. Perhaps fate will let them cross paths again …

Rated: G

Words: Just a bit over 2k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @kmomof4​  @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @xhookswenchx​ @teamhook​ @let-it-raines​ @winterbythesea​ @spartanguard​ @shireness-says​ @superchocovian​ @thesschesthair​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @vvbooklady1256​ @hookedonapirate​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @hollyethecurious​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @bethacaciakay​ @optomisticgirl​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @thisonesatellite​ @winterbaby89​ @tiganasummertree​ @xsajx​ @jennjenn615​ @zaharadessert​​

Chapter Two:

“That’ll be $2.50.”

It’s an innocuous statement, or it normally would be, but Killian has just escaped the office after a particularly nasty run-in with Zelena Green. Escaped her demands for the most ridiculous tax deductions (with no receipts, mind you) along with her shrill screeching and her terrifying claws - ahem, manicure - so swiftly that he apparently ran to the coffee shop empty handed. 

“Um . . .” Killian’s panic mounts as he pats his jeans pockets and then his leather jacket with no success. “I think,” he chuckles awkwardly and throws the barista a lopsided and charming (he hopes) smile, “I forgot my wallet.”

The barista simply arches a brow at him, communicating quite clearly that she is immune to his wiles. She braces her arms on the counter and leans towards him.

“It’s still $2.50.”

He clutches the to-go cup in his hand so tightly that it threatens to pop the lid. 

“I heard you, lass, and I plan on giving you the money. I just need to run back to the office -”

“You’re not going anywhere until you give me two dollars and fifty cents.”

For a moment, he wants to snap at her, but he learned long ago that he can catch more flies with honey than vinegar. He leans his hip against the counter casually, lowers his gaze a bit, and gives the barista his best smolder.

“You’re a good worker . . .” he finds her name tag, “Ashley. I admire that. I promise you can trust me. My office is only down the block. I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Or I’ll never see you again. Just give me the damn $2.50. I got my pay docked last week for the tinder being short, and I sure as hell won’t let it happen again.”

This is clearly not his day. 

“$2.50 you said?” a voice over his shoulder asks. 

Killian spins, recognizing that voice. His eyes widen with joy when he sees none other than Emma Swan standing there with a sparkle in her green eyes and a smirk on her lips. She leans around him to set her cup beside his. 

“Just put his on my bill,” she tells the barista.

“I can’t let you do that,” he starts to protest, but Emma lifts a hand to stop his words. 

“It’s the least I can do after . . . well, what happened to your floors.”

He chuckles lightly, and she blushes even as she shakes her head and lifts her gaze to the ceiling as if to say what’s a mother to do though, right?

“Fine by me,” Ashley says with a shrug, ringing up Emma’s purchase. “So that’ll be $6.15.”

Killian grimaces inwardly - this is a local place, and the prices are steep - but Emma doesn’t even flinch as she scans her card and then takes the receipt. She turns to Killian with a smile, holding out his to-go cup. 

“I am in your debt,” he tells her. 

Emma rolls her eyes and waves her hand. “Are you kidding? We’re even now.”

Killian racks his brain for a way to prolong this little encounter, but before his mind can connect to his vocal chords, Emma turns to the bar that holds the cream, sugar, and various shakers of spices. He hovers, his brain still refusing to cooperate, as she removes the lid of her cup and shakes some cinnamon on the swirls of whipped cream inside. He practically jumps when she ends up breaking the awkward silence first. 

“You see, I didn’t really mind adding your $2.50 to my order. That’s nothing in this place.” She snaps the lid back on her cup and turns to face him. “Let me guess, regular coffee, black?”

He nods, a smile curling his lips as he takes a sip of said coffee. “Aye. And yours is?”

“Hot chocolate, actually. Most expensive thing on the menu besides the pastries, which is just unfair, in my opinion.”

Their gazes connect over the rims of their cups, and Killian catalogues the new information. She prefers hot chocolate over coffee, with whipped cream and cinnamon. 

“That doesn’t happen to you often, does it?” she asks.

“Forgetting my wallet?”

“No, your charm not working.”

Killian tilts his head back and laughs. Then he saunters closer to her, bends his head, and lowers his voice. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She doesn’t seem to be visibly affected by his flirting in the least. Instead, she tosses him a casual smirk, one eyebrow arching. “Perhaps I would.”

His heart hammers in his chest as he searches her eyes. This woman is a bloody marvel. He had seen it even when she was falling apart in his office, and it’s even clearer now when she’s the one in control. His gaze falls to her lips, and he can’t help wetting his own. Abruptly, she clears her throat  and takes a step back. 

“I . . . uh, I really need to get back to my stuff.”

She hurries over to a table by the window and starts gathering up a laptop and some books and papers. A highlighter marker falls off and rolls across the floor. Killian picks it up and hands it to her. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, color staining her cheeks. 

“Work?”

“Uh, no,” she stammers, tucking hair behind both ears, “it’s school. My current job sucks, quite frankly, so I’m trying to get my degree.”

“That’s admirable,” Killan tells her sincerely. “In what?”

“Dental hygiene,” she wrinkles her nose adorably. “I know that’s stupid.”

Killian frowns. “Why in the world would you say that?”

Emma shrugs. “I mean, who likes teeth?”

He arches both brows as he bites down on his lower lip. “I can think of some reasons people would.”

She rolls her eyes again and smacks him in the arm. “You know what I mean!”

They both laugh then as he rubs at his arm exaggeratedly. “Okay, seriously, dentists like teeth. I mean, I assume they do.”

Emma shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, maybe some, but mostly I think they just know it will make them lots of money.”

“And that’s why you want to be a dental hygienist?”

Emma lifts her messenger bag and loops it over her shoulder. “I don’t need to be rich, but secure would be nice. I want to give Henry a good life, you know? And dental hygiene is steady work, steady pay, and good hours.”

Emma doesn’t seem to mind when Killian walks beside her as they leave the coffee shop. 

“You’re a good mother, Emma. I still fail to see where any of that is stupid.”

She hitches the bag further up her shoulder, then takes another sip of her hot chocolate. “I don’t know. Aren’t I supposed to be studying something I’m passionate about? Instead, I’m being completely pragmatic. All I need for this career is an associate’s degree, which will take way less time and money.”

“I think we put way too much pressure on people to find a career - a passion, as you say. At the end of the day, a job is pragmatic. We need money to live, and a job gives us that.”

“Is that why you became an accountant?” Emma tilts her head and studies him as she asks the question. “You don’t seem the type. No offense.”

He scratches behind his ear. “None taken. And yes, I make good money at it, so that’s part of it. Liam and I went our entire childhood barely surviving, so we both vowed to change that when we were old enough.”

“I get that,” Emma mutters into her cup of hot chocolate. Killian wonders at the comment, but doesn’t press her. 

“I do like numbers, though, so does Liam. We both excelled at that when we were in the Navy, and . . .” he shook his head. “It’s a dull story. We’ll just use the cliche the rest is history.”

Emma laughs, a free and easy thing in the early spring air, and Killian wants to hold onto it. For some reason, he gets the impression it’s a rare sound from her. 

“I suppose going to school for accounting is about as interesting as dental hygiene.”

“Well, then, here’s to making a living,” he tells her cheerfully, extending his coffee cup. 

She taps it with her cup of cocoa. “To making a living.”

They both sip, the air becoming charged again as their gazes linger. Then Emma glances over his shoulder, and her eyes light up. 

“Flowers!” 

She hurries over to the sidewalk display and picks up a bunch of snowdrops. “These are Mary Margaret’s favorite,” she said with a smile. 

“Really? Elsa loves them too,” Killian says, gently touching a delicate white blossom. “Who is Mary Margaret?”

“My sister,” Emma tells him, her smile fond, “foster sister, technically. Eva and Leopold adopted me when I was twelve and Mary Margaret was sixteen. I was a terror, let me tell you.”

“You had been through a lot of pain, I’m sure.”

Emma studies him for a moment, slight surprise lighting her eyes. “Yeah, I had . . . but the three of them loved me anyway. And now, well, Mary Margaret is both my sister and my best friend. She and Eva both watch Henry for me while I work and study.”

“What about Leopold?”

Emma buries her nose in the snowdrops, “He passed away when I was still in high school.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Emma gives her head a quick shake. “The point is, Mary Margaret and Eva are both the absolute best. I don’t know what I would do without them. David’s not bad either, I guess.” She chuckles fondly.

“David?” He assumes by her laughter that he isn’t a boyfriend. Please don’t let him be a boyfriend.

“Mary Margaret’s husband. They’re newlyweds and completely nauseating.”

Killian treasures each tiny nugget of Emma’s life and files it carefully away. He wants to know so much more. How did she come to have Henry? Why is she raising him alone? What pain was she forced to endure those first twelve years of her life? Though he can imagine that last one fairly well. He and Liam had spent nearly that long shuffled from home to home after their mother’s death, Brennan Jones never wanting to take responsibility for his sons. 

“I want to buy these for Jones & Jones,” Emma tells him, “as a thank you.”

“We’ve told you that it was no trouble. Besides, you bought my coffee, remember?”

Emma shakes her head. “I’ve been meaning to come by with flowers all week, but I was just too embarrassed. Please let me.”

Killian nods, albeit a bit reluctantly. He guesses that Emma is on a tight budget. She said her job sucks, and she’s caring for a toddler while also putting herself through school. He’s sure the small family she mentioned helps when they can, but still, she already spent over six dollars at the coffee shop, thanks to him. However, he can already see that she is a lass of great pride. He doesn’t want to insult her by refusing the gift. 

Emma purchases the flowers, and then she walks with him the rest of the way to Jones & Jones. Elsa exclaims over the flowers just as Killian expected her to, even enveloping Emma in a hug. Ariel hugs her too and asks about Henry. Even Liam is lured away from his desk, and he ends up showing off pictures of little Ian to Emma. He and Elsa swap funny stories about raising a three year old, and before long, an hour has passed. 

“Oh my God,” Emma suddenly gasps, “what time is it?”

“Almost five,” Elsa tells her. 

“Shit, I’ve gotta go. Mary Margaret is expecting me soon, and Henry gets cranky when dinner is late.”

Killian stands there like an idiot as Emma rushes out in a whirlwind, leaving her now cold hot chocolate on the edge of Killian’s desk. 

“Please tell me you asked her out this time,” Liam says once the door has shut behind her. 

Killian groans. He didn’t even get her number. 

“Maybe you’ll run into her again?” Ariel suggests, but there isn’t much faith in her voice.

Not that Killian blames her for her doubt. Fate gave him a second chance, and he doesn’t hold out much hope that it will give him a third. 

#cs #cs ff #modern au #first meeting #and second meeting? #mommy!emma #single mom emma #little henry #fluff #humor

[mediocre-writerr]

slow dancing in the parking lot [dani clayton]

Dani Clayton x fem reader

Requested: I want to know if it’s possible to write one where the reader and Dani slow dance together and they remember all the time they dance together like their first dance, during their wedding, etc.

*not my gif*

Dani was in the small kitchen on your guys’ small, yet cozy apartment in New York. You walked into the apartment, taking off your shoes and putting them on the rack as the smell of spaghetti sauce filled your nostrils. 

“Dani, my love, I’m home!” you yell as you hung up your coat. 

“I’m in here!” she yells back as you follow the sound of your wife’s voice towards the kitchen. 

She was facing the stove as she stirred the pan of sauce. Our lovely freshly grown basil gift from Jamie being thrown into the mix. You wrap your arms around her waist and hook your chin on her shoulder. She immediately leans into your touch. You give her a kiss on the cheek as she stirs it. 

“Hello my love.” you whisper swaying with her back and forth. 

“Hi,” she says as she finally turns her head to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, “How was work?” 

“Same old, same old. We won a case today so that’s a plus, but so much paperwork,” you reply with a shrug letting her go, “Is there anything you need me to do?” 

“Um, do you want to get the salad and garlic bread ready? The spaghetti should be about boiled.” she says and you nod.

“Of course, but I feel like we need to add some music up in here first.” you say wiggling your eyebrows at her and she laughs. 

You head over to your record player as you put in your favorite record Billy Joel songs that you had custom made for your one year wedding anniversary. You and Dani’s favorite songs were from Billy Joel. You went back to the kitchen and rolled up your sleeves before washing your hands. 

Dani and you cooked there in comfortable silence as the music played. Uptown Girl began playing and both you and Dani looked at each other with a smile. She began using her spoon as a microphone while you took the wooden spoon you were using. 

“Uptown girl! She’s been living in uptown world. I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy. I bet her mama told her why. I’m gonna try for an uptown girl!” you and Dani sing together at the top of your lungs as you guys jump up and down to the song. 

“Now what are you two doing in here?” you ask as you walk into the classroom at Bly. Your hands in your pocket as you leant against the door frame. 

Uptown Girl by Billy Joel was playing loudly off of the record player. The blonde girl who you met briefly at her au pair interview was standing there dancing with them. The three of them looked up at you and the au pair was blushing lightly. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, you must join us! This song is perfectly splendid!” Flora says grabbing your hand and pulling you into the classroom. 

“Yeah! Ms. Clayton picked it out, she said it was one of her favorites!” Miles added on still dancing along to the music.

“What a coincidence, it’s one of my favorites too! It seems like Ms. Clayton here has good taste.” you say kneeling in front of Flora before shooting Ms. Clayton a wink. 

Her cheeks lit up with a pink tint, “I’m Dani, the new au pair. I think we met briefly before my interview.” she explains and you nod. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, I’m Henry’s partner at the firm. I was given the position under terrible circumstances I’m afraid, but I’m grateful for this position nevertheless.” you introduce yourself. 

“Miss. Y/L/N is really good at her job though, probably just as good as our father was!” Miles says excitedly. 

You ruffle his hair smiling at him, “Always a charmer Miles. Thank you for your kind words young sir.” 

“Why are you in the countryside then?” Dani asks.

“Oh I like to come and visit the kids and everyone here as much as I can. So any chance I get that I’m off I like to make the drive and stay for awhile,” you respond, “Now are we gonna sit here and chit chat or are we going to annoy Mrs. Grose even more with our obnoxious singing and dancing?” 

“Annoy her more!” the children yell and both you and Dani laugh. 

You head over to the record player to restart the song. All of you begin singing and dancing around the room. You take Dani’s hand and spin her around lightly. The feeling of her hand in yours brought a skip to your heart. You couldn’t help, but smile wider at the feeling of it. 

She was a sight to see. Her beautiful blonde hair and her piercing oceanic eyes. The color really suit her as if you look into her eyes for long you would be drowning in her beauty. The beauty that is Dani Clayton. 

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love with an uptown girl! She’s been living in her white bread world as long as anyone with hot blood can! And now she’s looking for a downtown man! That’s what I am!” all four of you sing at the top of you lungs. 

You wink at Dani after singing the last couple lyrics. Her face flushes again once more as you spin her around again.

“Hannah told me to tell you guys to shut up!” Jamie yells looking annoyed as ever, “If you guys continue I will beat the living shite out of you!” 

All of you freeze in your place before laughing, “Good to see you too Jamie!” you yell back and she finally breaks a smile before walking away.

“You’re still my uptown girl.” I tell her before spinning her around like I used to. 

“And you’re still my downtown man...or women, you know what I mean!” she exclaims and you chuckle at her cute antics.

You begin peppering her face with kisses and she squeals a little, “Y/N! Stop we have to cook!” she explains, “Everyone is gonna be here soon!” 

Dani goes back to the strain the spaghetti as you toss the salad together. Then the song New York State of Mind comes on when you toss the bread into the oven to get it toasted. 

“Ms. Clayton, may I have this dance?” you ask extending your hand out before bowing exaggeratedly. 

Flora and Miles decided they wanted to go back in time and throw a ball. They want to throw one before you have to head back in the city tomorrow to work on a case. Everyone was dressed up in the fanciest of costumes. 

“How many times do I have to tell you Y/N? Call me Dani.” she says chuckling before taking your hand.

“I don’t know you well enough to call you Dani yet, but I hope that can be arranged.” you say as you wrap your arms around her waist and hers settles around your neck. 

“Beautiful and still respects chivalry. I like it.” she says and you smile widely, a small blush forming on your cheeks. 

The song New York State of Mind was playing in the background as the two of you slow danced together. Miles was dancing with Jamie, Flora was dancing with Henry (you somehow managed to drag him out of the office for one night), and Owen was dancing with Hannah. 

The two of you swayed from side to side before you spun her around. At the peak of the song you dipped her. Your faces so close you can feel her breath on your lips. You look into her eyes and back down to her lips as if asking permission. She nods so quickly if you blinked you would miss it. 

You close the short little gap before kissing her ever so softly. Her lips were surprisingly soft. She wraps her hands around your neck pulling you closer. You smiled into it as she did too. 

Dani pulls apart needing air and you lift her up from the dip. She smiles at you widely, “Gosh I’ve been waiting to do that.” 

There’s a knock door breaking you away from the beautiful memory you once shared. You head over to the door as Dani set up the table, looking through the peep hole to see your guests. You open the door to reveal: Hannah, Owen, and Jamie standing there. Jamie was holding a bottle of wine like always while Hannah and Owen were holding hands.

“Mrs. Poppins!” Jamie says hugging you tightly before making her way inside.

“Jamie, darling!” you respond.

“Y/N, it’s always a pleasure!” Hannah says kissing both of your cheeks and Owen gives you a hug. 

Dani squeals when she sees her best friend Jamie as they hug tightly. It has been awhile since all of you have been together. With them living in England still and you guys moving to New York at expanding you and Henry’s law firm to across the pond. 

The five of you sit and chat for awhile as the music plays. You wrap your arm around Dani’s shoulder as the two of you sat on the couch. Then the door knocked again. You jump off the couch heading straight for the door after giving Dani a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Ms. Y/N!” the two kids yelled, but they weren’t so small anymore.

They were getting older, Miles was 18 and Flora was 16. Miles was much taller and his baby face began fading away to turn into a more chiseled physique. Flora was becoming into an even more beautiful young lady. Henry was there standing behind them and he smiled at you. 

“Kids, you’re old enough and know me well enough to call me Y/N.” you say to them before reaching your arms out to give them both hugs, “I mean you did play a big part in me and Dani’s wedding.” 

“It’s force of habit.” Miles says, his voice now deep. 

“Miles your voice! What the hell happened?!” you exclaim and he laughs before you ruffle his hair. 

Miles makes his way inside as Flora smiles widely at you. Flora has always thought of you and Dani as a mother figure since she lost hers. You hug her tight one more time before giving her a kiss on top of her head.

“So I heard that you have a boyfriend. When can I meet him?” you ask her and she smiles sheepishly.

“Maybe soon. I really like him and he’s super sweet and funny and handsome.” she says going on and on about him.

“Is he perfectly splendid?” you ask jokingly.

She drops her head into her hands, “Oh gosh. No. I said that way too much growing up.” she says shaking her head, but a smile still appeared on her face.

“Oh I know. It was definitely annoying at times,” you say, “But we didn’t love you any less!” 

She went back to head inside to say hi to everyone else as well. Henry’s hair was turning a little gray and you laughed at the sight. Your best friend shook his head already knowing what you were laughing at. 

“Henry! The hair is a good look on you!” you say in between laughs. 

“Oh shut up!” he says as you embrace him into a hug yourself. 

All of you sit around the table as you ate and talked. It’s a nice feeling. You’ve missed all of them so terribly. Especially since it has been a struggle to visit as often as you’d like. You’re always so busy with the firm, it’s hard to find time to go on vacation. 

As dinner ended the song Just The Way You Are by Billy Joel came on. All of you looked around and smile at one another. Everyone grabbed their partners like the night of the ball as we began dancing in our tiny apartment. 

You wrapped your arms around Dani’s waist and she did the same, but around your neck. The two of you close and comfortable with each other. 

“I’ve really missed this.” she whispers to you and you nod.

“Me too. The kids they’re so grown now and I feel like I’m missing out in a way.” you explain and she nods. 

“Maybe we need to move back to England. Stay a little closer to them,” she suggests, “Henry will understand and I bet he’ll love us there! You guys have met some amazing people to help run it. I bet they’ll do a great job.”

You did miss the feeling of being in London. You’ve missed it dearly. Especially the kids, they’ve become like your own in the time you’ve watched them grow up. It wasn’t such a bad idea.

“I wouldn’t leave you in times of trouble. We never could have come this far. I took the good times; I’ll take the bad times. I’ll take you just the way you are.” you sing to her softly and she smiles.

Dani looks beautiful all the time, but there’s something about her standing in her wedding dress in your arms...it just made her even more beautiful. It reminded you of the first time you met her, how awe struck you were at such beauty. 

Just The Way You Are by Billy Joel was playing as the two of you shared your first dance as wife and wife. 

You knew you couldn’t have a normal wedding, you couldn’t technically get married, but you didn’t care. Owen ran the wedding on his own as he allowed you guys to say your vows in the small church in the Bly Manor. Henry, Flora, Miles, Hannah, and Jamie were the only one in attendance. 

Both of you didn’t need a big wedding. All you needed was the two of you and the people who love and care about you most. Both of you celebrated your wedding in the gardens of Bly, much to Jamie’s hesitation in fear that you will ruin her hard work.

“You look absolutely stunning, my love.” you whisper to her as the two of you swayed.

“Thank you my wife.” she whispers back and you couldn’t think your smile could widen. 

After a few moments you felt a few taps on your side. Both you and Dani looked down at the feeling. Miles and Flora were there with their hands extended. Miles now 14 and Flora is now 12. 

“May we have this dance?” they both ask in unison and you both smile nodding.

You take Flora’s small little hands and dance with her to the song. She giggles as you spin her around. And for extra flare to make her super happy you dip her ever so gently. 

As if on cue, you and Dani spin the two children around at the same time as you switch partners. Miles was dancing trying his best not to step on your feet. He wasn’t the best dancer, but he made it work somehow. 

You finally make your way back to Dani dancing with her as the song ends.

“Thank you for all the dances my love, here’s to many more to come.” you whisper and give her a small sweet kiss. 

#dani clayton #dani x reader #dani clayton imagines #dani clayton imagine #the haunting series #the haunting of bly manor #haunting of bly manor

[whump-town]

BAU Pool Fic

I wrote @davidrossi-ismydad bau pool fic... it’s 3,000 words bro I took it way too far

“Jack Attack!” Emily Prentiss finds herself with an armful of overly excited five-ear-old. “How are you doing baby?” She brushes a strand of his hair back from his face, rubbing in a spot of sunscreen on his temple. She loves all her nephews. They’re her maternal outlet and Jack just eats it up. Even if that does crush both her and Hotch. 

Jack smiles broadly, “I’m super!” He moves, twisting so she can see the floaties on his little arms. “Look!” Jack points on his floaties, “Daddy got me floats with Cap’n ‘merica!” Sure enough, a cartooned Captain America is sitting on his bicep. “Uncle Dave is gonna let us swim!” 

Emily is nodding along, used to his quick pace. She knew about the Captain America floaties last week when Dave first brought up opening the pool. Hotch went from timidly sipping the Scotch Dave gave him to panicked because Target hadn’t gotten in their superhero floaties yet. Of course, in the safety of Dave’s office, she’d chuckled at seeing his DadMode activate. Then she had Garcia show Hotch how to order the floaties online, where they were in-stock.

“I know,” she agrees, trying to match his enthusiasm. “Are you excited to swim?”

Jack nods, “Daddy said he would too!” 

A sigh comes from behind her and Emily turns to find Hotch. He’s got a beach bag over his right shoulder while his left-hand twists his sunglasses by the side. “Buddy, I said I might swim.” He loves his team, really does, but getting in that pool with both sets of ‘the boys’ might be a bit much. That and he has to do his best to keep water out of his ears unless he wants to nurse an ear infection all summer long. 

JJ and Garcia laughter cut through any further conversation, coming in through the side door. Their drinks already in hand, sent by Rossi to greet whoever he heard just pulled in. The two of them had been expecting Emily, she’d sent a text as a ‘heads up’ when she stopped for gas on the way here. It’s just a pleasant surprise to find Hotch and Jack too.

“So, that’s what you’ve been hiding under all those suits.” JJ cocks her head to the side, smirking at Hotch. She, of course, knows about her best friends rocking bods. Everyone has seen Morgan topless, so he’s no big surprise. The real treat in today’s plans was 100% figuring out what Hotch and Reid hid under way too many layers of clothes.

Garcia agrees too, sipping some white fruity white canned alcoholic drink. “You look hot, sir.”

Hotch looks down at himself. He’s wearing a dark green, thin button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He hadn’t buttoned the first three buttons, leaving a good bit of his chest visible. His trunks are dark blue and come up just above his knees. They were shorter than what he’d expected when he ordered them but pants are always a problem at his height. So he considered it an overall win they didn’t come up higher. 

Compared to his usual attire around them, he might as well be naked. Not to mention his pale skin which is startlingly bright in the light of Rossi’s parlor. Hot isn’t exactly what he’d seen in the mirror when he’d put it on. Just… clothes. 

“Thank you,” he responds, with a tense smile. He really needs to work on accepting compliments. “Nice… bathing suits.” 

That is the understatement of the year. 

JJ has on a one-piece that cuts up very high on her hips. She’d chosen the color maroon and damn if she wasn’t right about it being her color. It’s cheeky and risky and Garcia was absolutely here for it. Refusing to hear JJ’s excuse she couldn’t pull off bathing suits like this one anymore. She has a mom-bod.

Emily’s rebuttal had been that JJ was right. She does have a mom-bod because JJ is a total MILF.

With two hype-women, JJ had to get the bathing suit.

Garcia’s own is white with red and blue flowers. There’s a perfect triangle cut out between her breast, drawing tasteful attention to them. Her selection had come easy, ‘I don’t need your help on this one. It’s speaking to me’. She too looked killer but saves her boss any grief on his compliment falling short. 

Emily snorts at the comment but covers it up by addressing how her best friends had betrayed her. “Evidently, this year we were going one piece.” Emily gestures to her own body, to the bathing suit she’s hidden under a maxi dress. “I didn’t get the memo.”

Garcia caves first, “babe, we said we were sorry!”

Seeing this as his only ticket to get away from a conversation he has no idea how to be a part of, Hotch extends his hand to Jack. “Come on buddy.” 

Emily puts him down, patting his head as he takes Hotch’s hand and follows his father with a little skip. 

“See daddy,” he says brightly. “I told you, you looked han’some!”

Emily watches them leave, tucking her arms around her body. It’s protective and comforting. She smiles sadly at Jack’s comment, it turning bitterly into a frown

JJ cups Emily’s cheek, “we are sorry.” 

The worst part is, she’s not mad they got one-piece bathing suits. It’s about her own insecurities. JJ has smooth, perfect skin, and Garcia’s gunshot wound makes her look like a badass. The memory is… murky but she’s a fighter because of it. 

Emily’s scars are tainted. A reminder of just how awful their lives have been lately and when she takes her dress off it’s just going to be that much more in their face. She’s a walking horror film, a damn slasher movie.  

“It’s fine,” Emily promises. “I’m just…” she blows out a breath. “I’m in a mood, I guess.” 

Her arms are still crossed so JJ finds that a little hard to believe but before she can start to dive into a line of question and dredge up whatever is bothering her. 

“I didn’t know the party was in here,” Rossi states, stepping into the house. He sees the tension in Emily’s body, frowning when Emily places her hand over the one JJ has on her cheek. Squeezing the thin digits before moving them away. “Bella?” His relaxed smile falls, “is there something wrong?”

Pappa Rossi has come out and he’s a fierce mister to mess around with.

Emily shakes her head, picking up her bag and stifling all her concerns. “I’m fine,” she promises. She motions for the other girls to follow and she meets Rossi at the door. “You just worry too much, vecchio uomo.” 

Old man? She wounds him.

He’s dressed simply, no desire to swim in the pool with those little animals (whom he loves dearly but the point still stands). Dad jean and an opened button-down, he looks too good. He squints his eyes but his sunglasses hide his skepticism. “Mhmm.” He opens the door for them, “you’d better get out there. You’re missing out on a party.”

The party greets them before they can fully get out of the door. 

“Oh, Spence,” JJ covers her mouth, the only person merciful enough to hide her smile at the sight of him. “Honey, what did you do?”

Someone, definitely Derek, had pushed him into the pool. He looks like a drowned rat. An adorable drowned rat but a rat none-the-less and in his clothes too. He shakes his head, looking down at his wet clothes. “I got pushed in.”

“Uncle Derek,” Jack explains helpfully, padding up to them. He’s visibly wet, obviously an eyewitness given his pleased smile. 

“Yep,” Henry confirms from his best friend’s side. Smiling just as bright as Jack. “Untle Derek push’ted him in!” He jumps happily at the end, nodding his head to his mother. 

The uncle in question sneaks up behind the boys, grabbing them by their waists and hoisting them up. “Are you boys tattling on me?” One on each side, Morgan looks between them faking an angry frown. Both boys know exactly what he’s going to do and start squirming excitedly. Claiming simultaneous denial. 

Morgan’s face sobers for a split second, his attention on the adults. “Pretty boy had it coming,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I brought him a bathing suit and he wouldn’t put it on.” He shrugs and his playful smirk sinks back into place as he announces, “and since someone tattled on me… I’m forced to get my revenge.”

“No! No!” Henry and Jack shout, gleefully screaming as Morgan turns around and heads for the pool. 

“Hold your breath boys!” Morgan jumps in and there’s a large splash as all three submerge. The boys pop up first like little apples, laughing uncontrollably. 

Reid is standing in front of them shivering, looking rather pathetic soaked to the bone. “I pulled him in with me,” Reid states, moving to get past them. 

Poor Reid had not been expecting it at all. He’d gone to the pool’s edge to talk to Henry and Jack. They were chatting away, Jack showing him the Captain America’s and Henry telling Reid that he was gonna learn how to swim without floats with Uncle Hotch too. So he and Jack could both be big boys.

That’s when Morgan had come up from behind, lifting Reid off his feet in a swoop and throwing him in. 

In his mind, it was payback. Morgan brought Reid a very bright red speedo, a gag gift of course. After that fun had ended, the fun being seeing how red he got having to hold the atrocious garment in his hand, Morgan had gifted him light purple swim trunks.

So that he could swim. Except, Reid refused. So Morgan took the matter into his own hands. Then he felt guilty.

Offering Reid a hand up had, of course, been a mistake because the second the genius’ hand met his Morgan felt a sharp pull. Then he found himself in the pool. 

Jack and Henry, who hadn’t recovered from how hard they’d laughed watching Reid get dunked in were wheezing by the time Morgan’s head popped back up.

It seems as if they really did miss a party.

“Prentiss,” Hotch greets, walking up alongside her with a drink. “It’s a strawberry daiquiri, Dave said it’s your favorite.”

She takes the drink with a smile, watching her friends mingle and laugh amongst themselves. While she stands off to the side, isolating herself. She takes a small sip from the top, smiling. God, if Hotch and Rossi weren’t just the sweetest men she knew. Which is a strange thought to have once she considers it. Hotch is the bad cop to her good cop and Rossi is the reason they have such strict fraternization rules. 

“Do you think I can just be Emily, today?” she asks hopefully. 

Hotch smiles, nodding. “If I can be Aaron,” he barters. They tap their glasses together, a silent agreement. He takes a sip of his beer, watching the others around them. He’d gotten word, from Dave, about Emily and the bathing suit thing. She could play the other’s stupid but no one can lie to David Rossi. Not even Hotch. “Not swimming?”

She sighs and she knows exactly what this is. “Aaron...” she sighs, shaking her head but she can’t think of what to say. She can’t say he doesn’t understand. Her wounds might be larger but he had more. Quantity to quality and God, that’s awful. 

He takes her hand lightly, his eyes intense and sad. 

And she’s terrified. 

He lets go and she thinks that it. He’s going to let it go because they’re messing with demons here and she’s learned her lesson with stirring them up. But he does something so much worse. 

He takes his shirt off. 

“Hotch-”

His hands are trembling despite this being some act of courage because it’s only been two years and he knows the scars look awful and-

“Uh-oh!” JJ yells from the other side of the pool. She’s very drunk and drunk JJ is very supportive… and has no filter. “DILF alert!” She sends them two thumbs up and Will waves, a stressed smile stretched across his face. 

Hearing the commotion, Garcia turns away from Morgan and their current conversation. “Holy shit…” Garcia mumbles, pushing her sunglasses down to get a better look. “Does the FBI do a wet t-shirt contest or something? We have to get you boys in it.”

Hotch tilts his head expectantly.

“Oh shut up,” she rolls her eyes and sits her daiquiri down. She takes back every nice thing she’s ever said or thought about him. Especially that internal monologue from before about him being one of just the sweetest man she knew. In fact, she doesn’t like men at all anymore. 

Pulling her dress up over her head, she shakes her head.

That’s right, the Aaron Hotchner, a certified DILF, and federal agent had turned her 100% gay… well, until she forgives him. 

She frowns at him, realizing how dumb they both look just staring at each other mostly naked. “Satisfied?” 

He raises an eyebrow, playfully shaking his head, “are you trying to get us both sent to a sexual harassment meeting, Agent Prentiss?”

“Morgan and Garcia could use the company.” She’s trying very hard to keep her eyes on his face which is also making it hard to be mad at him. The scars aren’t even that noticeable and, while his abs might not be as defined as Morgan’s they are still visible. And nice. 

Before this conversation or frankly, anything else about this day, can get any weirder, Rossi calls out that the burgers are done. 

First come first served.

Which really means Reid, Henry, and Jack eat first while the rest of them fend for themselves. 

The chaos, as always, really gets going after dinner. 

JJ, Emily, and Garcia were standing and discussing whether or not Emily should get a different bathing suit for the beach trip her mother’s planning when the boys come from nowhere. 

Will, Reid, and Morgan.

All three girls end up in the pool. Garcia slung over Morgan’s shoulder. JJ scooped up by Will. Emily dragged kicking and screaming by Reid. It’s declared war and Emily, seeing Hotch chuckling at the sight of them, decides it’s against all of the men. 

The other three aren’t that hard to get. 

Will is lured in the way any man is into a trap, by thinking with the wrong head. JJ takes him out at the knees and Emily is the final blow. Execution style. Will considers it to be a bitter defeat.

Morgan is stupid. Emily sends off to get more drinks and together Garcia and JJ rush him as he walks past the pool. He goes in mid-wave to Jack and Henry, who are playing in the shallow end. 

Emily just picks Reid up, doing the same as he’d done to her. Ego soaring and the alcohol she’d consumed clouding her judgment, Emily takes on her main target. Aaron Hotchner. 

He’s standing at the edge of the pool, with his shirt back on but completed unbuttoned, and telling Jack and Henry to come to get another layer of sunscreen on. His back is completed turned when Emily pushes into him. She’s expecting to hear his body hit the pool water and then her name to be grumbled out when he bobs back to the surface.

It’s like hitting concrete. The man goes nowhere. 

He turns to face her, frowning disappointingly. “Is that all you got Emily?” He shakes his head and turns back to the boys, “chop! Chop! The faster you get out the faster you get right back in.”

Emily attempts to conspire with the others but they’re cowards.

“Oh, no, princess. Not a chance in hell.” Morgan shakes his head, he already thinks she’s crazy for trying the first time.

JJ is too drunk to really tackle. 

Garcia thinks it would be cruel. Hotch has done nothing wrong.

Will is a coward.

Reid is scared of him.

Rossi is too old. 

“You’re all boring,” she pouts. So she tries again on her own.

The boys are back in the pool, Hotch asking when the last time they had some water or a juice box was. That alone almost stops her. Because it’s adorable. She decides she really doesn’t care and takes the approach of shouting his name and then tackling him.  

He catches her. She hits his body but he moves at the last second and wraps his arms around her waist. “Is this what you were trying to do?” Right over his shoulder she goes, plop- right in the pool.

The boys get a proper kick out of it. 

Emily, with a towel wrapped around her shoulders, sulking in a chair watches as Jack and Henry shout for Hotch. He pretends to be surprised as they run at him. They jump up and he catches them to his chest, making a dramatic show of pretending to be knocked back into the pool. 

When he comes to the surface he shakes his hair out of his face and she frowns, hating him for making that look hot. 

Ick... men.

The afternoon wraps itself up well. 

Rossi lures the boys out of the pool with sweets and movies. It’s a picture perfect moment. 

Jack and Henry are exhausted and the moment they settle in the living room, both sharing Uncle Dave’s lap in the lazy boy, they’re out like lights. There’s the smallest bit of chocolate smeared on their lips and Rossi dares Hotch or Will to take his boys away. They can stay the night.

And they do. 

Emily says goodbye to all three, pressing kisses to their temples.

“Did you have fun, Bella?”

She got free food. She got drunk. 

Her boss took his shirt off in front of everyone to make her feel comfortable in her own skin and then dunked her in the pool.

She laughed until she cried with JJ and Garcia.

She played a very dangerous game of chicken with Morgan and Reid...

“Yeah,” she admits. “I had a lot of fun.”

Rossi’s eyes crinkle, “mission accomplished then.”

#BAU pool party #emily prentiss #is the main character #think about it #reid is a baby #and totally wears purple swimming trunks #hotch is a dilf #i'm just going over things we all know #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #david rossi #jack hotchner #henry jareau

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Lonely

Henry notices you’re lonely after moving out to the country with him, but he has a surprise under his sleeve.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x reader

Word Count: 2,627

Warnings: FLUFF! Fluffy puppies, fluffy Henry, etc. 

A/N: I had this idea and HAD to write it down. I hope you love it just as much as I do! 

-

           “Are you sure you’re alright? I really can just ask for them to switch scenes and…” Henry started when he saw you sitting on the floor of the den, Kal’s head in your lap as you rubbed behind his ears.

           “I’m fine,” you insisted. “You two go. You’ve been here long enough.” You and Henry had finally bought your own place together – you’d sold his old house in Kensington for a small farm. It was gorgeous – it was a few acres in every direction, an old but gorgeous house, and stables for Henry to live his best horse boy life. It was definitely a little bit more responsibility, but it had so much room for Kal to run around and it had extra bedrooms for when you and Henry would have a family of your own. You loved living out there. The only con was that Henry had to leave an extra half an hour early just to get back to the studio they were filming the Witcher at. You’d moved in two weeks ago and this was supposed to be his first week back on set.

           “Alright. If you insist,” he sighed. “Can you get Kal’s bag ready?” You nodded and stood up, earning a small whine from the dog who just wanted his mum to pet him. You walked over to the hutch by the door, one that you’d brought from Henry’s old house, and started packing up Kal’s toys, wipes for his eye boogers, and a small jar of peanut butter that Henry usually filled a toy with to keep him busy while Henry was on set.

           You put Kal’s harness on him by kneeling down and putting it over his head. You sighed when his face hit your arm and reached up to scratch his ear again.

           “I know, buddy, I’m gonna miss you too,” you said in the voice you reserved for just him. The black and white and brown dog pawed at you as you started to hook his leash to the red harness. You didn’t realize that Henry heard you, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He hated leaving you, and normally you worked from home so you were able to go to set with him and with Kal. But the house was a lot more responsibility now, so you needed to be there as much as you could. You could come with Henry maybe once or twice a week, if even that, especially now that you had horses that needed to be taken care of every so often during the day.

           “Alright. Kal, car!” Henry made a kissing noise as he pointed toward the door, opening it, and the dog disappeared through the crack in the door and out to the car. Henry put a hand on your waist and tugged you toward him, leaning down and kissing your lips. He was wearing your strawberry chapstick, you noticed, probably because it was on the vanity and it was so cold outside that his lips would get chapped before he even got to set.

           “Have a good day,” you said sweetly.

           “You too. Let me know if you need anything, love, and I’ll come home. I promise.”

           “I’m fine, Hen. Go film your show.” He gave you a soft smile.

           “I love you.”

           “I love you, too.” You stood on your toes and kissed his clean-shaven face, smelling the Lynx aftershave he always used. And then he turned and left the house, taking Kal’s bag with him. You were alone.

           The first part of the day was fine – you checked on the horses, even braided one’s mane because you were a little bored, and then took a walk around the house to take care of the garden. You had to admit that you were lonely in the gigantic farmhouse alone, but that was mostly because of the size. You were sure you would get used to it eventually.

           Henry called you during his lunch break and told you what had been going on so far, but that only made you feel more alone when FaceTime hung up and left you alone. You desperately wished there was a dog at your feet keeping you warm or Henry sniffling in the corner, highlighting his scripts. You looked behind you in the office you two shared, looking at his desk, and grabbed his cashmere blanket to use.

           Henry was finally home late that night, and after making himself an extremely late dinner he came and joined you in bed. He pulled you into his chest and shut the bedroom light off right after the shower shut off in your bathroom. You smelled the aftershave from that morning, but there was a hint of the chamomile tea he drank on his breath mixed with his toothpaste.

           “How was the house?” He asked you. You put an arm around his waist and cuddled into his bare, slightly damp chest.

           “A little lonely,” you admitted. “I think it’s just because it’s bigger. And we have all these empty bedrooms. And I miss Kal…” Your voice trailed off. “But I love it. It’s just a little lonely.”

           That wasn’t the first time you’d expressed how you felt to him – the loneliness started when you were packing up the old house while he was working. You missed him when he was gone. You were both notoriously clingy, especially toward each other, and most of the time you even traveled with him. You wanted to be around each other, all the time. That was just how your relationship was – your language toward each other was physical touch.

           “What if I told you I might have something that’ll help?” He asked. You felt the vibrations in his chest and shut your eyes, relaxing at the sound of his voice.

           “And what would that be?” You asked.

           “That, darling, you’ll have to find out this weekend.” You giggled and settled down, hoping that he wasn’t just messing with you. “Alright. Good night, love.” You turned away from him and he adjusted, putting his chest against your back, and tugged your duvet up toward your chin so you would be warm.

           You woke up the next day and he was already gone. You started your routine again, but you had to make a run into town for groceries. That really reminded you of how alone you were – you’d only been out to the town two or three times, all with Henry, all laughing and talking the whole time. You put your AirPods in and listened to a podcast to feel a little less alone, but as soon as you got into the house to unload everything, the feeling returned.

           It was just making you feel depressed, more than anything. You missed your person. You missed your pup. You hated the silence so much that you turned the TV on just to keep you company. You nearly jumped with joy when Henry pulled into the driveway, just in time for dinner, and you sat up like a child while he talked, eyes wide, wanting to hear everything about his day.

           “Will you give me a hint?” You asked, trying to figure out what Henry’s solution could be. You were thinking either another horse or a new car or maybe that they were transferring to a closer studio, but you really had no idea. And by the way Henry looked at you and ran his fingers through his curly hair and grinned, you had a feeling that it was something good.

           “No. Not at all. You’ll just have to see tomorrow.” You sighed and crossed your arms, letting him clean up as you started to get ready for bed.

           You woke up bright and early, nearly dragging Henry out of bed, and he finally just told you to get in the damn truck before he lost his mind. He took you out for tea and shopping, probably just to pass some time, but instead of heading back toward the house he went to the other town. You looked at him, confused, and you were especially confused when you saw a text from the dog-sitter saying that Kal was excited. That confused you even more, and when Henry pulled onto a dirt road you realized he was going toward another farm.

           “I swear, Henry, if we’re getting another horse…” He grinned and took your hand, squeezing it tightly.

           “We don’t need another horse,” he said, trying to rationalize you a little bit. You rolled your eyes and let go of his hand, crossing your arms against the sweatshirt you’d borrowed from Henry.

           “Well, where are we?” You asked when he pulled up to a house. He shut the truck off and let you out first, and without answering led you up to the front porch. He rang the doorbell and the wooden door erupted with bark after bark, and that was when you kind of realized what was going on. Maybe. You looked at Henry, who was grinning.

           “Do you know now?” He asked.

           “Henry,” you started to say. And then the door opened, revealing a woman who was holding a fluffy puppy in her hands.

           “Now do you get it?” He asked you. “Hi, I’m Henry, this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” he said to the woman. The woman shook both of your hands and you started to realize what was going on, but only briefly.

           “I think?” You responded, trying to contain your excitement. The woman led you into the house’s living room, where there was a gate set up. The room had probably about eight or nine puppies in it, and you looked over at Henry. Happiness flooded into your heart when you finally understood what was happening. You were getting another Akita. Henry smiled back at you, knowing that you got it.

           “We have three females and five males,” the woman explained, “but since you already have a male I would suggest you get another. Of course, it’s up to you, though.” Henry put a hand to your back.

           “Well, go on and pick one, love,” Henry said with a smile on his face.

           “You mean…?”

           “It’ll be all yours.” You hugged Henry from the side, squeezing his waist as he kissed the top of your head. “Go on.” You giggled and sat down on the floor. The puppies were all different colors, and you could see what looked to be the mother or the father in the other room walking around. Henry started talking to the woman and you soon came to find out that this was where he’d gotten Kal from. So, theoretically, this dog would actually be related to Kal. Something about that made you tear up.

           You looked around and petted all of the pups, who had different colored ribbons hanging on their necks. The pink and green ones were running around you, too busy playing with one another. The red and purple ones were sniffing you, and the others were walking around you. The blue one, though, was the first one that rest his head on your lap. He looked a little like Kal, but instead of almost black fur he was mostly the color of caramel with a little black and a little white. He was absolutely gorgeous. As soon as you looked down at him, he was the one.

           “You found one you like yet?” Henry asked a minute later, walking into the little corral and sitting down beside you. You carefully picked up the blue-ribboned puppy and smiled when the dog put his head on your shoulder.

           “I think this is the one,” you said softly, stroking the fur on his back. Something inside of you just broke and all of the loneliness and sadness you’d felt recently flooded out of you. Your eyes filled with tears and suddenly Henry was sitting beside you, his hand on the dog, too, and he put his lips to your temple.

           “I cried when I got Kal, too, it’s okay,” he said. You laughed and sniffled, hugging the soft, warm pup in your arms. “You know what you’re gonna name him?”

           “Well, it has to be after a superhero,” you responded like it was completely obvious. “But I don’t know yet.” Henry chuckled.

           “I’ll go arrange it. Spend some time with your new buddy.” Henry rubbed the dog’s ear for a second, agreeing with your decision, before walking back to the other room where the woman was standing talking to her family.

           In a few minutes you were all set and you were carrying the puppy out to the lawn, sitting back down. The puppy seemed to enjoy the sunshine, and when you got him into the car, he settled right on your lap. Henry’s hand reached over to pet the dog and etched on his face was a beam you hadn’t seen in a long time.

           “It’s not a fix-all,” Henry said to you. “But I know how much you love Kal and how happy he makes you. And I know how lonely it gets during the day, so when I take Kal, you can have this buddy.”

           “I can’t believe you got me a puppy.” You cuddled the dog like you had before, up by your neck, the soft puppy smell invading your nose. So did the hair, and you turned away to sneeze for a second.

           “Anything for my favorite girl,” he said to you. “I think you made the right choice. He’s so good in the car. Kal was absolutely evil when I got him, crawling around everywhere.” You giggled.

           “Yeah, he’s a good boy,” you commented as the dog whimpered when Henry went over a bump. “Drive carefully, my baby’s sad!” Henry chuckled.

           He pulled into the driveway a few minutes later and you made the introduction between the two dogs. You expected it to go worse than it did – Kal was territorial, especially over Henry and you, but he sniffed the puppy and sat down and let the dog even bite his ear without protesting at all.

           “I think they’re getting along well,” Henry commented as the two of you sat down on the couch and watched. You leaned into Henry’s shoulder, burying your face in his sweatshirt.

           “Thank you, Henry. You’ve no idea how much this means to me.”

           “I don’t want my love to be lonely. And I secretly just wanted an excuse for Kal to have a brother.” You giggled. “Thought of a name yet?”

           “You’re going to hate me for it.”

           “It depends, I’ll only hate it if it’s stupid.”

           “Well, since Kal is named after Superman, maybe we should name this one after another superhero.”

           “Oh, I hate where you’re going with this.”

           “Okay, you might kill me,” you confirmed. “But doesn’t he kind of, at least a little bit, look like Pietro? Maximoff?”

           “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Marvel.” You rolled your eyes and took out your phone, searching Google. Henry just tilted his head when you showed him a picture of the character you were referring to, and instead of protesting Henry just kind of nodded.

           “He… actually kind of does.”

           “Maximoff it is,” you grinned, walking over to the puppy and picking him up. “Max for short?”

           “Yeah, I’m calling him Max,” Henry said with a small roll of his eyes. He walked over to you and leaned down, kissing you. “Our family’s growing, love.”

           “Yep.” Henry reached down to pet Kal, praising him for being such a good boy to the new puppy, and you squeezed your new best friend tightly. “I love you. And Max.”

           “His name is Maximoff!”

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x reader fluff #henry cavill

[deathonyourtongue]

Willow Run | Ch. 7

Summary: On a horse ranch in Texas, life is far simpler than on the streets of Bakubah, but Syverson has a bad habit of taking in strays of all kinds, no matter what demons may be after them. Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC Word Count: 3K Warnings: Drug use? A/N: Y’ALL ARE THE BEST!!!! CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | 

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“I’m a nice guy, right? I mean I got a place, roof don’t leak none, got food...Hell, I gave it to her good, too. She always moaned like a whore when I gave it to her. She loved it, especially the rough stuff.”

“I mean, you did say you were gon’ kill her.” Wade giggled, inhaling deeply from a bong and momentarily taking his eyes off Travis. His shaggy blond hair was in need of a wash, but from the state of his shirt, it was clear cleanliness wasn’t at the forefront of any of his thoughts. 

Tapping on a dying lightbulb that sat next to his recliner, Travis grinned. He took a long drag off his cigarette, swilled it with lukewarm beer, and finally nodded. “Well, that’s ‘cause she disobeyed. She doesn’t have a lot to remember, really. Keep the house clean, keep the food hot, keep her legs spread, keep takin’ ‘er pills. Four things. That’s all she needs to remember, but that seems too hard for ‘er. You tell me Wade. If someone finds it too hard to remember four things, should they really be breathin’?”

“No sir,” Wade laughed, grabbing a handful of pretzels and putting the whole lot in his mouth at once while shaking his head. 

“Exactly. And seein’ as how she’s mine, it’s my right to do with ‘er as I please.” 

“Can’t argue with that one, boss.”

Standing, Travis made his way to the kitchen, pausing in front of a mirror his fiancee had broken with her face some time ago. Slipped into the frame was a picture, taken years before on a Polaroid. He stroked over the image with his thumb, smiling. Travis could remember the day like it was yesterday. She’d tried to surprise him by bleaching her hair a white-blond with pink streaks. He took a deep breath,trying to keep from getting hard as he remembered how rough he’d given it to her that night after the party at the drag strip. In his experience, blondes were always bimbos, good for one thing and one thing only. He treated her like a blonde that night, then made her dye it back to its original color the next day; it didn’t matter to him that she had a hard time moving her hands up to her head, so long as she got the job done. 

His reflection, disfigured among the cracks of glass, made him look more sinister than usual and it suited Travis’ mood. His grin grew as he met his own gaze; tri-colored eyes reminiscent of a broken marble stared back, amplifying the decision he’d already made. Running a hand through his mussed russet hair, he looked over his shoulder at his best friend before opening the fridge and grabbing a fresh beer.

“Wade? What d’you do when a deer runs away from ya out into the bush?”

“Y’hunt it. Why?”

“Well, my dear ran away, Wade. Get your stuff and call the guys. We’re gonna go huntin’.” 

Sasha couldn’t help but smile as she read over the second note Sy had left her in as many days. To him, it was probably nothing more than common decency, but to Sasha it was such a tender gesture of affection that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. 

Feeling better than she had in a long time, she slipped out of bed, leaving the puppies to sleep and moved to get ready for the day, intending on finally surprising Sy with the breakfast she’d planned on making the day before. After a quick stop in the bathroom to tie her hair up in a floppy bun, Sasha put on a touch of the makeup she’d bought, slipped into the second outfit she’d tried on, and with new shoes in hand, headed downstairs to start cooking. 

Though she hadn’t cooked from scratch a lot in her past, Sasha had always felt it important that a person have one or two recipes that they could make to near-perfection. Her favorite by far was her breakfast burritos and she’d yet to have someone fail to compliment her on them after trying them.

After a quick rummage through Sy’s fridge, she set about making two for him and one for herself, Sasha watching the clock closely, knowing full well she had a limited time frame to get the food to him before his meeting with the buyer. Where Sy sang, Sasha preferred to dance in the kitchen as she cooked, every movement accompanied by a happy little shuffle of her feet, whether or not there was music playing. 

Before, she’d have to watch herself, as dancing was looked down on, but now, feeling freer than ever before, she couldn’t  help but make her movements a little more grandiose. To anyone looking in, she might have looked a little strange, dancing and smiling from ear to ear when there was no music playing, but Sasha couldn’t have cared less. She was happy for the first time in a long time and she wasn’t going to hide it.

With the kitchen cleaned and the dogs all given a bit of bacon for their good behavior, Sasha set off with everything she’d made, the food wrapped in tin foil then gathered in a clean kitchen towel for easier carrying. Along with the thermos of hot coffee and a bottle of water in place of her OJ, Sasha headed off by foot to find Sy, not ready to try her hand at the ATV that sat parked at the back of the house. 

Her smile grew as she neared the barn, hearing an upbeat country tune playing through speakers she could only assume were hardwired into the building itself. Seeing Wyatt, Sasha put a finger to her lips, silently asking him to stay quiet. The taller man only smiled, shifting his gaze back to a horse he was grooming while discreetly tilting his head to the left, giving away Sy’s location. 

She was expecting him to look as he always had when working in the heat; sweaty, a little disheveled, and wearing his beat up baseball cap. What met her eyes however was something closer to the cover of a romance novel, and Sasha was momentarily stunned into stillness. 

Wearing a navy and black plaid button-down, tight blue jeans with a black belt, and a far less trodden pair of black, round-toed boots, it was the black Stetson on Sy’s head that made her stomach explode into a million butterflies. Biting her lip, Sasha felt a stirring she couldn’t remember ever feeling for her ex, the realization a startling one that nearly made her drop the thermos. 

It took a deep breath to refocus her mind, but once she had, Sasha tiptoed as close to Sy as she dared. With a quick look to Wyatt, who gave her wholehearted approval, Sasha leaned up as far as she could, standing on her tiptoes to try and reach his ear. 

“Morning, handsome,” she whispered, echoing his morning note. 

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sy jumped a mile, turning and banging his elbow into the stall as he tried to figure out what was going on. Seeing Sasha, his fear instantly turned to elation, and he placed a hand over his heart as he took her in. Even more radiant than she had been the previous morning, Sy could tell she felt a million times better, not just physically, but emotionally. The gleam in her eye said it all, and before he could even register it, Sy was grinning like a fool. 

“Morning, mama,” he said with fondness, his voice quiet and sweet as he tipped his hat back enough to kiss her cheek. 

Though Sasha was momentarily confused at the formality of the kiss, it only took one look at Wyatt’s raised eyebrows for her to realize why Sy was being a little coy with the PDA. Everything was still new. Blushing a little, she pulled her surprise from behind her back, smiling hopefully up at Syverson.

“I thought I’d make your morning a little easier,” Sasha said, her smile growing as Sy slipped a hand around her waist, guiding her down the aisle towards his office.

Sy’s face showed genuine appreciation as he took a seat in his high back leather chair, pulling Sasha down into his lap so she wouldn’t have to sit on the perpetually hay dust-covered chair. 

“You didn’t need to do all this, darlin’. You made coffee and everything. Thank you.” Sy met her eyes, his own gaze making it abundantly clear that he wasn’t used to being treated. Turning her face with his hand, he kissed her deeply now that they were in private, Sy sighing happily when he finally pulled away. 

“Been thinkin’ about kissin’ you all morning,” he confessed, Sasha unable to keep the small squeak of happiness from escaping, her head falling to Sy’s broad shoulder as he reached around her to unwrap the kitchen towel. 

With the tinfoil off in a hurry, Syverson’s face turned into one of delight as he immediately recognized what she’d made. 

“Did you use the chorizo?” He asked, bouncing a little in his seat when Sasha nodded. Laughing softly, Sasha held off on taking her first bite in lieu of watching Sy. While his food always tasted amazing, he usually didn’t have much of a reaction to his own cooking. Now, with someone else’s handiwork in front of him, it was a totally different story. 

Sy’s eyes rolled back into his head the moment the first bite touched his tongue, a loud, appreciative moan coming next as he began to chew, followed by more bouncing and a bob of his head that was unmistakably made in time with the music. 

“Damn, woman! You could make some serious coin off these! It’s so good! I think you’ve ruined me. Never, ever tell her I said this, but... Even my mom’s isn’t this tasty! Holy shit!” 

Blushing profusely, Sasha hid her face deeper into the crook of Sy’s neck, her smile wide as she felt his free hand come up to cup the back of her head. Warm and safe, she almost forgot about her own meal until the baby moved and her stomach growled simultaneously, both Sasha and Sy laughing and the loud interference. 

“Might wanna eat quick, mama. The lil’ one’s gettin’ restless,” Sy grinned, his hand slipping under her overalls to rub her belly gently over her shirt. The touch made her heart skip a beat, Sasha still amazed that Sy seemed to have no qualms over the fact that she was pregnant, even now that they’d declared their interest in one another as more than just friends. 

Unwrapping her burrito, she took a hearty bite, Sasha glad that her appetite was coming back a little stronger now that she was well away from her previous situation. Still watching Sy, she felt her blush returning as his excitement over the food didn’t waver a bit. It was so opposite of what she was used to, Sasha didn’t quite know what to do with herself. 

“Seriously, Sash, I could have these as my last meal and I’d die a happy man.” Giving her a squeeze, he looked up at her and something in his eyes changed. 

“Darlin’, you’ve got a little somethin’...” Sy’s voice softened as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Sasha’s lips and knocking her heart into overdrive immediately, with how charming he was. 

“Stop,” she whined playfully once they parted, her broad smile making it clear she didn’t actually want him to do anything of the sort. “You’re too cute for your own good, mister,” Sasha added, pressing the button of his nose, her own scrunched up playfully. 

“Nuh uh. That’s all you, mama. I’m just the big ‘ol rust bucket that works with horses,” he joked, Sy about to lean in to kiss her again when Wyatt’s soft throat-clearing interrupted them. 

“We got about five minutes. He’s all ready to go, trottin’ around the pasture so he’s seen as they drive up. You need my help with anythin’ else or am I good to get back to the trees?” Wyatt asked, trying his hardest not to let his face show how surprised and happy he was for his best friend. 

It had been eons since Sy had shown any interest in a woman, and despite only having met her briefly, Wyatt could already see how much of a difference Sasha was making in his former C.O., a difference for the better as far as Wyatt was concerned. 

“Nope, I’m all good to go. D’you mind if I share this with Wyatt, darlin’? He hasn't’ eaten yet either and he’s about to go out and break his back.” Looking down at Sy as he asked for permission, Sasha only let the shock of his request flash briefly across her face before nodding quickly. Men never asked her for permission; they usually just took and took and took. Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, Sasha found herself slowly getting off Sy’s lap, mouth parted slightly. 

Was it too good to be true? Would he end up being like every other man she’d ever been with? Was this all a dream that would leave her sobbing when she woke?

Managing to keep the smile on her face, she bent down and gave Sy a sweet kiss to his cheek, letting her lips linger just a little longer than was customary. 

“I think I’m gonna head back up to the house.” Sasha murmured, stepping backwards while trying to keep her composure. Sy frowned slightly, confusion marring his features. 

“You alright, darlin’?” Nodding quickly, Sasha waved the two men goodbye before turning on her heel and heading back towards the house as fast as she could manage. 

Hearing the buyer’s truck pulling up as she crested the hill, it was all Sasha could do to keep from running, afraid seeing her might deter Sy’s prospective customer. Inside, the cool air hit her and without anyone watching her, Sasha let her tears spill, elated that she’d found such a wonderful man, but terrified that it was all going to go south like it did any time she had even a modicum of happiness to herself. Overwhelmed with emotion and forgetting all about the hormones coursing through her, Sasha kicked off her shoes before beelining the couch, curling up with Hudson and letting the tears fall silently until sleep overtook her. 

Sasha wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she felt soft lips on her face. Moaning quietly, she braced for the kisses to turn to punches. With her eyes squeezed shut tightly, she was certain she’d feel the familiar wakeup call tear her out of her dream, which would put her right back to everything she’d run away from. 

“Travis, I’m up, I promise,” she mumbled, whimpering even as she put her hands up to block whatever violence was coming her way. 

When the gentle kisses stopped and all she felt was the circulating air of the AC, Sasha finally opened her eyes, confused; the sight before her put a lump in her throat instantly. Sy sat on the coffee table, back hunched over, his eyes gazing into a spot on the rug. Lips pressed in a tight line, two tear drops clung to his lower lashes, streaming down his face only when he finally looked up, their path cutting through the fine layer of dust on his face before he wiped them away slowly. 

“Ah, sweetheart. Wish I could take all your fear, all your pain away,” he whispered, sniffling and wiping a little harder at his eyes when the tears wouldn’t stop. 

Sitting up, Sasha found herself at a loss for what to say, her own eyes already red-rimmed from having cried herself to sleep. Looking at Syverson, she couldn’t help but feel the same guilt she’d felt during her first day with him. Only now, she could add making him cry to the list of things she felt responsible for. 

“I feel like I’m a burden on you already, nevermind you wanting to take on my pain,” she admitted, her voice small and pinched, Sasha looking anywhere but at Sy. 

Opening his arms, it only took a moment before Sy had Sasha in his embrace, holding her as close as he could and letting her fresh tears fall into the crook of his neck. Rocking her back and forth as he stroked her hair caringly, Sy could only think of one response to her words. 

“No, not a burden. A joy.”

#henry cavill #syverson x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #willow run

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

I read the book a while ago and DCTL!Sammy was so frustrating that as a Sammy fan, I need to rant about him.

The man in the book may have had his name, but that thing was not the Sammy Lawrence I knew and loved.

First off: What the fuck? No seriously, what the actual fuck. Who the fuck is this man and what has he done with Sammy? Lets take all the Sammys we’ve seen in canon and compare them:

Tapes!Sammy: A tired, annoyed and bitter musician who is done with the shit his boss is putting him through. He sounds like he has bags under his eyes and is wearing a perfected a Customer Service Smile(TM) during work hours. 10/10 would pay to listen to him bitch about Joey in the break room.

Chapter 2!Sammy: Creepy, dramatic, stupidly trying to get a demon to notice him, and a ham of a villain. Judging by the phrase “He will set US free” pared with the fact we find out he lives in the village built by the searchers and lost ones and that he appears to he their leader, it seems like in universe, he’s the only one who cares about these miserable, once human creatures enough to actively help them. Even Allison Angel and Tom Boris, the ‘good’ guys, slaughter them mercilessly in their own home after they kill their leader. 10/10, fucking superb you funky little cultist man. (Henry gets a pass because he’s just trying to live and appears to show more empathy to them/guilt to them: ‘I’m sorry I had to do that, nice hat though’, ‘please don’t cry’, to himself: ‘you bring death’ ‘once people, now fallen into despair’) 

Hot Topic Q&A!Sammy: still creepy, but this man is a delight. He’s kind, he’s encouraging, he praises his fellow employees often, he’s passionate about his work and he has a wonderful sense of humor. We learn that he has memory problems but he’s trying his best. If this is what he’s normally like then I’m not surprised that the searchers/lost ones are willing to risk their lives to avenge him and I feel bad for him. 11/10, best sympathetic villain I’ve seen in years, would take him on a date to Coney Island.

Chapter 5!Sammy: Full of unbridled rage and pain after being betrayed. Attacks Henry on sight and we learn that he doesn’t like being seen without his mask. I don’t know what set him off this badly but I wish I did. 7/10, could’ve been better.

Employee Handbook!Sammy: Calling people sheep pre-ink is pretty weird to see from him considering that it’s an insult here and a term of endearment during the Q&A and I hope he’s either being sarcastic or is being blackmailed by Joey. 7/10, stop simping for Drew’s dick, king you deserve better wages, a better workplace, and a better boss.

DCTL!Sammy: I legit cringed every time he showed up and had to put the book down for a bit because he was just that unpleasant. Like Chapter 5!Sammy he is full of rage, unlike Chapter 5!Sammy he’s just lashing out at absolutely everyone and is a complete jackass who is also implied to be a bigot. The only thing this Sammy has in common with the other Sammys is his name, music and calling people ‘sheep’. If nobody said his name I’m pretty sure we’d all 100% accept that this is an entirely different character and that Sammy died before Buddy showed up. He’d be a terrible character who I’m pretty sure everybody would love to hate, but a different character nonetheless. His only redeeming quality is that he drinks ink and I think that’s kinda funny. -100/10, who are you and what have you done to my himbo ink husband?

Apparently, according to themeatly, DCTL!Sammy’s bad behavior is the ink making him more aggressive, and he disrespects Tom’s Job, not his skin color. I could buy those two points out of context as Sammy hates the pipes and pump switch in his office, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he took his anger out on Tom because he can’t do shit to Joey and Tom’s the one who installed the pipes/pump switch in his office. And I assume getting your flesh slowly but steadily transmuted into ink feels terrible and therefore, more likely to lash out more often.

But then why do we get the lines “What’s the matter Mr. Lawrence? Not used to giving someone like me respect?” (when Tom is talking to Sammy) and “I remembered Sammy calling the man from gent “Tom” and not “Mr. Conner” and I wondered if this was a habit of his. If this was what he did with everyone. Or maybe...how had Jacob put it in the bar about women and black people not getting the same respect” (Buddy thinking while watching Sammy talk to Abby)

How come we don’t get a non-inked DCTL!Sammy to compare to inked DCTL!Sammy? Why do we ONLY get the vile-behaving venom-spitting DCTL!Sammy? The audience might see the change in behavior and automatically think “Oh fuck something supernatural is going on” but this is a prequel story! we already know shit’s gonna go down! In story the characters could chalk it up to “Oh he’s probably being shitter than usual because he’s under a lot more stress than usual.” Or something like that.

What especially pisses me off is how EASY it would be to fix the bigot problem! What if we took the lines and changed them to: “What’s the matter Mr. Lawrence? Not used to giving a blue collar like me respect?” (So that it establishes that it IS the job and not the skin Sammy has a problem with like themeatly had wanted us to read it as apparently.) and “I Remembered Sammy calling the man “Tom” and not “Mr. Conner” and I wondered if this was a habit of his. If this is what he did with everyone. If it was, then how come he never calls me by my name?” He’d still be an asshole but at least he’d be a less shitty one.

Speaking of which, lets talk about something that I’ve never seen anybody else comment on: the fact he treats our protagonist Buddy with so much more disrespect than I’ve seen every other character in the book. It’s not just me, right? Was I really the only one who noticed this?

While Sammy does call everybody by their first names, (Joey, Tom, and Abby) the exception to this rule appears to be Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, whom he instead calls “Art Department”, while the other characters are referred to casually instead of properly, they at least are called their own names, poor Buddy gets a nickname based off of which part of the studio he works in.

Right off the bat, when Buddy helps DTCL!Sammy get the ink out of his face do you know what he immediately does afterwards? Does he say “Thanks for the help”, “Oh hey, you’re new.”, “I swear those pipes will kill me one day, good thing it wasn’t today” or anything else like that? nope!

He just drags Buddy to the closet and he forces him to clean up the ink. In the employee handbook, we know that only Wally is allowed to clean up ink-related messes and it’s fair to assume that Sammy knows this so why is he breaking the rules by forcing Buddy to clean the ink for just being at the wrong place at the wrong time? He didn’t even apologize for his behavior anywhere, he just intimidates Buddy and later in the book attempts to kill him for Bendy.

In conclusion: I am frustrated and this is not my inky himbo music man.

#sammy lawrence #buddy lewek #dreams come to life #dctl spoilers #bendy and the ink machine

[henrystickminart]

Uh here a wip to Cursed au fic tell me if i need to fix anything and stuff :v

Blades of the copter rang through his ears. The beat and clicks of it as his grasp on the bars outside the helicopter door. Holding on tightly as if his life depended on it. Then a voice cutted the repetitive noise of the aircraft.

"Alrighty remaining toppats was located at this old broken dusty temple, as ya know."

A smile crossed his face as his gloved hand moved to a device on the side of his head. It was a gray communication headset with a mic attached to the end. Tapping the mic a few times to signal he heard the other. Before the hand shifted and went down into a jacket pocket. "Why would toppats go in some old tomb. Aren't there like booty traps?" A female voice came from the head set and behind him where he stood. She was right tho. Why would toppats go there? That thought rang through his mind as, his eyes narrowed with confusion.

A sigh came from the individual as he pushed his hand off the metal piece and moved more into the helicopter. Turning his head to a girl sitting on a green metal crate. Ellie rose, a member of the triple threat that was the name of the group. Having meet her at the wall a thought always ran through his mind since then. Why was she at the wall in the first place? But he knew better to not get in her personal space. If she tells him she tells him, and if not that's ok. Ellie had this bright red hair that was close to the color of roses. A purple bandana around her neck with an rose pattern, and Brown leather vest with the same patterns. An sleeveless purple shirt. She seemed to have notice him; looking up from some documents she was reading. Smiling to the other with a soft smile, as she adjusted her headset that was just like his. Before her gaze went back to the documents.

"Um I don't know. It's in the jungle. Where uh ya know we took down the rocket. Some who weren't in there did escape after all."

Charles was the third member of Triple Threat, and the member that had been a Government agent longest. He was said to be the greatest pilot in the force, if by 'greatest' you meant 'greatest at crashing your chopper'. It was a miracle if the helicopter survived a mission without any dents or scrapes. But, the pilot had genuine skill despite it all. Henry had watched Charles stop the rotors of the aircraft and then pull it out of free-fall during the Toppat raid himself. Not just anyone pull off *that* kind of stunt. Looking to the pilot he was wearing his usual outfit. Red head set over his head, a black bandana with a red star and a white line through it, and His camo jacket with red and gray accents. The usually. He always wore that type of stuff which was odd to others. Even when out of work and being casual. But hey he didn't mind it gave some type of charm. It just what makes Charles well Charles.

"Hm yea seems about right. Could be going for shelter. What do you think Henry?" Ellie spoke out through her head set as looked up to the former thief, But she knew well he was still a kleptomaniac. Sometimes stuff at base go missing, Small things, Shiny things, useless things. Henry was like some crow, seeing a shiny thing and picking it for the taking. Whether it has value or not he was gonna snatch it to hide in there shared apartment at base. Heck the office lost all there pens the other day and was livid. Charles had to say sorry repeatedly to some govt workers, Ellie snorted as shook her head with a smile at the memory.

Ah yes Henry stickmin. The once thief who was told to be extremely lucky. He had his usual wear on, navy blue jacket with dark gray sleeves and brown shirt, a blue bandana with darker blue stripes, and the tips being dark blue. Henry had perked up at his friend words listening in, as was put into thought. He thought it was rather odd,but shelter was the closes idea that seemed reasonable. Moving his hand to his chin as stroked it in thought trying to think of any other reason. Before arms shifted and he shrugged with both hands up as shook head. Yea he had no idea why they would go there, maybe there a base?

"No clue huh?" Ellie asked which Henry responded with a nod. She sighed as put her hand on her chin, and went back to staring at the documents in her grasp. It wasn't hard reading her friend. Yes he preferred to not talk, using asl or just basic body language. Heck they even made up a yes or no system with the tapping of the mic. There even the hey I'm in danger with multiple quick taps type of signal. Then pick me up with multiple taps but slower. Course Henry spoke when needed, or when there hanging out with each other and not on missions. Ellie and Charles encourage the other to use his voice after all, But never forces the other to speak.

Henry warmed up to the three and sometimes chats with them, or if he stressed and can't sign. He will speak, but after all he was a Preferred mute. The young kleptomaniac raised a eyebrow as raised his hand to be facing the document. Waving his hand as a gesture, as was rather curious what information it has on it. Ellie sighed ,as she laid it flat on her lap her eyes furrowed to a look of annoyance. "nothing helpful. Just says where it is and a few pictures of the place"She picked it up, and faced it toward her fellow partner. "The place practically falling apart, so we will need to be really careful what we do in there" What ellie shown was truthful and Henry could tell. Collapsed walls, nature taking over ,and It looks like it would fall apart any minute. Guess some of the remaining Toppats that are hiding in the temple were getting desperate.

"Pretty bad right? oh uh yea i looked through those documents before the mission. So by how the surroundings are looking we should be there in a jeepy!"

Charles voice came through his headset, and breaking Henry out of his thoughts. Looking up from the pictures and typed words he had skimmed through. Henry looked to the pilot and smiled to the other. Getting up from his bent down position, and turned to the opened helicopter door. Seeing the jungle trees fly by and the nature life be toyed with by the copter speed. It won't be long till they get down to business and capture some Toppats. But hey all the leaders are captured, so the little groups will be a easy pick up. That's all what the Toppats are to the government now a easy round up for the Triple Threat!

"Oh this is so exciting, Henry, Ellie, and of course me gonna kick some toppat butts! I'm landing soon, so hold on!"

Ellie quietly chuckle to oneself at charles excitement while getting up from where she sat. Placing the documents in the green crate, so they don't go flying out during landing. The female of the group walked to the open door of the aircraft and grasped the metal handle. Henry followed behind and grabbed the other side of the metal bar as well. Charles pulled on his controls forward and started to sing rather loudly. A blast of air hitting both Henry and Ellie, as they nervously held on tightly to not be completely blown off and fall onto the jungle floor. Now that will be painful as both looked to one another hoping they don't end up blowing up today. Feeling the wind brush against their faces, as the ground starts to look like it's getting closer and closer. Henry moved his free hand into his jacket pocket and grabbed out sprayed out foam. Ellie raised a eyebrow at this as held on with both hands to the metal handles on the helicopter side. Her hair becoming a mess, as her brown chocolate eyes stared at the bottle. 'Expandable foam'

Seeming to understand Ellie nodded as watched Henry shake the bottle. Wait isn't that stuff not pose to be shaken? But her question was answered rather quickly, as she watched Henry toss it to the ground. Both former convicts watched the container explode and foam cover the ground. Now they waited for impact, as both of them shutted there eyes closed. Oh Charles why...i mean why at the beginning of the mission! But hearing the wind impact slowly calm down, and the copter blades start to make less noise. Ellie and Henry opened their eyes. Seeing the helicopter perfectly landed on the now foam covered ground. Blinking with confusion both turned their heads to there crazy pilot walk from behind his controls.

" alrighty so uh who ready for the mission!" Charles spoke out ,as he stood there beaming with joy his arms shifted a strap that was around him holding his sniper. Henry and Ellie stared at there friend before at one another. Letting out a sigh of relief that both have been holding in for a bit. Sometimes they just don't understand their bestfriend and his actions that go with it. But hey that's charles for them a goofy and unpredictable ball of joy.

Henry smiled back at the crazy pilot and gave the other a thumbs up, as he was ready as he can be. Letting go of the handle on the aircraft the kleptomaniac jumped from out and landed on his feet onto the foam. Looking down at the soft foam with a frown as seemed to sigh. It was kinda a waste to use the foam when Charles actually did have everything in control. But he and Ellie seemed to have panicked which is seemly reasonable. Charles does tend to crash his copters repeatedly on missions, but a thought went through Henry head. Maybe the reason they didn't crash cause there was no point to do so, as he can remember Charles did it when they needed help and fast. He was snapped out of his thoughts when heard two pairs of feet hit the foam. One before the other, as the young govt agent turned his head to see Ellie and Charles walking over to him.

"so uh what's with the foam? Did you drop something when we were flying Henry?"The pilot questioned, as glanced around at the foam covered ground with a confused gaze. Henry gave a guilty smile, as shrugged with a nod. Trying to play it off like he did accidently drop it. Ellie seemed amused, but was pretty guilty herself."yea, when we went for landing the wind blew Henry jacket up making the bottle fall out" The young kleptomaniac instantly agreed to ellie lie putting his thumbs up and looking guilty as charged. Charles snorted at this as shifted his sniper strap a bit once more."noted I will try to land slower next time. Sorry Henry"He chimed out and took a step forward. Guiding the two as pushed some of plant life out of the way. Holding it down for Ellie and Henry to walk past him.