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shiningjustforreid · 5 months ago

Text

stains

glimpses through fem!reader and Spencer’s relationship, through four instances of spills.

word count: 3.5k ish

a/n: i love the idea that for some of us, our personalities are made up all the things we like about the people we know and see. the idea that we’re all little bits and pieces of the things we love, and our experiences. this sort of explores that. (also this was mildly self indulgent because much like reader i’m a klutz!) <3

warnings/tags: 18+ for implied intimacy and canon typical violence for cm, pet names up the wazoo, reader is lowkey clumsy, Derek Morgan being himself, reader gets injured but she’s fine, who’s Maeve?, anxious love confession, Spencer adores reader so so much, S1 and S6 (ish) Spencer, Spencer in and post prison, love letters, marriage, kids, and briefly mentioned pregnancy, girl dad!Spencer Reid my beloved

- ✩ -

coffee - the first stain

To be honest, at first, he’s appalled.

The mug you set down on his desk isn’t his, so God knows whose mouth was on it last. You - somewhat carelessly - plopped it down on the file he’s working on, grinning that thousand watt smile he’s secretly become fond of. You’re wearing a sweater he noticed that brings out your eyes - a berry colored wool garment that he wishes you’d wear more.

“Hey! Morgan said you were exhausted. Thought I’d make you coffee.”

You pick it up, and set it down again, for emphasis, and a few drops make their way down the side and onto his case file, surely creating a cinnamon toned half circle that Hotch will not love. You don’t notice, watching his face.

“I made it with a bunch of sugar. Just how you like it, right?”

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been staring up at you, and then his mouth is moving faster than his brain.

“Yeah, I uh, I am pretty tired, now that you say it. Didn’t sleep well, long night, you know?”

You nod, sipping your own coffee, fingers wrapped around the ceramic.

“I get that. Goes with the job, right?”

“Oh, absolutely, yeah, I- wait, Morgan said that? Did he— what else did he tell you?”

You grin, coffee mug to lips again.

Stop staring, Reid.

“Nothing, really. Just said you needed a boost. Thought I’d provide.”

Titling your head a tad, you look down, a mild panic crossing your face when you see you’ve stained his file.

“Oh my God - Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He’s quick to shake his head, hands coming up to reassure, his eyes wide.

“No no no, it’s okay, truly, I-I made a mistake on that one anyways. I’ll need to have a new copy printed, honest.”

Frowning, you look him over, searching for a tell, something to let you know whether he’s lying or not.

“Are you sure? I can do it, I’m not that behind on mine, I could—“

Before he thinks - you’d assume, with all his brains, he would - his hand grabs your arm, that gorgeous sweater under his finger tips, his eyes locked with yours. He says your name, once, his tone more serious than he’d like.

“It’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

You blink, and then a slow grin takes over your face.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need more.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of his hand burning through the wool on your arm, until he lets go like you’re the one scorching his skin, like he’s just realized that he’s touching you. You laugh a little, awkwardly, and he grins with the same level of unpracticed nerves, and you head back to your desk.

He picks up the mug, and sips slowly, closing his eyes for a moment - it does have a mountain of sweetness, the saccharine liquid coating his mouth but soothing his senses. When he sets it down again, it’s on a part of his workspace not occupied by case work. Just as predicted, the file that once housed the beverage now bears a semi circle of dried java. His pointer finger traces the stain, clockwise and then counter, for a moment, before he glances up in horror to see Morgan, of all people, signature smirk in place.

“‘Thanks for the coffee’. I don’t what’s sweeter, that coffee you just got or-“

“Shut up.”

He mumbles, face flushed, small smile on his face despite the teasing. He traces the coffee stain one last time before he hastily tucks the soiled paper away in a drawer.

blood - the second stain

“What do you mean you aren’t getting a response from her on comms?”

He’s so scared, he can’t even stop to think just how breathless and afraid he sounds, as he turns to Hotch, who fixes him with a look that clearly says, Calm down, Reid.

“It could just be non-functional, or got knocked off, or caught.”

Hotch says calmly, almost maddeningly so. Spencer swallows back the protests, the arguments that swell up in his throat like bile.

They’d created, and given the profile, and once Penelope had narrowed down the couple possible properties their potential unsub owned, you, Morgan, and Prentiss had headed into an abandoned storage facility, silent and careful.

Perhaps not careful enough.

The voice in his head reminds him, almost sadly, and he grits his teeth inside tightly drawn and chapped lips. Shaky hands smooth over his slacks, again and again, as his eyes stay fixed on Hotch.

“Ask-ask Morgan again. If she’ll respond.”

He’s given a frown, dark brows pulling together in a very typical Hotch-like manner.

“Is there a specific reason you’re asking about her, Reid?”

Is there? God, he doesn’t know. You bring him coffee nearly every morning, but perhaps that’s just kindness. Then there’s the chocolate sprinkled donuts that start his work day from time to time - maybe you just enjoy pastry treats, and think of him, when you buy one. Oh, and heaven forbid he forget the way you’ll come by his desk, and ask for clarification on a piece of paperwork or a procedure - that you probably could’ve asked Hotch or Prentiss about. You listen, active listening too, eye contact, body still - when his explanations turn into rambles about statistics about this type of criminal, your eyes watching his face, your own voice quiet.

Is he deluding himself? Seeing phantom romance where there’s maybe merely nothing but platonic affection? Blinking, once, he shakes his head in response to his Unit Chief’s question.

“No Hotch. I’m just worried, she-well, she hasn’t responded, and Morgan has, and Prentiss has, and I—“

Speak of the devil, Morgan’s voice comes through, demanding and tense.

“I need a medic. Prentiss and I secured the unsub, but, not before—“

Oh God. Not before that bastard got to you with a baseball bat, to the back of the head, you unaware before your face met the concrete below. Spencer’s not even asking for permission, snatching the keys to an SUV off the desk nearby and flooring the gas pedal.

You can’t die. Not before I—

Driving there is like hell - his lungs burn like there’s smoke and ash polluting them, and fear feels like too tame a word to describe the overwhelming panic that seizes his heart the more he drives.

I’m a fool, he thinks wildly, as his knuckles grip the steering wheel like a vice. A damn fool if I don’t tell her-

He’s barely got the thing in park before he’s scrambling out the driver’s side door, Converse immediately coated from the dusty ground outside the facility.

When he finds Morgan, and you, head lolled to the side, eyes closed, face pale as his must be, he falls to his knees with little regard for his own pain or discomfort. Morgan watches, careful, his voice gentle when he speaks, trying to calm his terrified friend.

“She’s still out, Reid. Just a nasty whack to the back of her head, okay? Easy.”

Trembling thumbs trace and hold your face, like it’s made of paper, as he swallows hard to keep the ache behind his eyes from becoming tear tracks down his face. He spots the gash, trickling crimson down your ashy skin, onto his shaking hand, but doesn’t move from holding your face. A deep contusion, furious and violet-toned, on the back of your head, makes the air leave his chest like he’s been choked.

Beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop this.

He could sob, and he nearly does, until you make some sort of confused noise and force open your eyes. Light rushes through his heart, rekindled warmth as he meets your eyes, and yet, he finds himself almost frozen.

“Spencer? What, I thought-“

“Listen to me.”

He forces himself to speak - he has too. What if he doesn’t get the chance, and all he ever gets to associate you with is caffeine, sprinkles, and a listening ear? No, that won’t do. Not in the slightest.

You meet his eyes, hazy, but listening. Morgan’s brows furrow, as he protests,

“God, man, she just woke up, let her-“

Ignored, as Spencer often finds himself doing when there’s more pressing matters than banter, than propriety.

“You need to know. That I-care about you.”

Blinking, you swallow, and suddenly, the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is slightly dimmed.

“That I can’t let another sunrise or sunset go by where you don’t know that I’d give you the stars if you’d let me. Where I can’t touch you, where I can’t make sure you understand that I’ll protect the light you have inside you until I’m burnt from it. You absolute angel, I-“

He shudders, almost afraid of his own earnest, and says your name like it’s a prayer.

“I love you. Even if you don’t return it, my heart is yours.”

Morgan’s grin is wide, and he shakes his head, almost in amazement. Your own face is flushed, as you hear sirens and medics, your voice crackly and rough from pain, but still, that smile he’s grown to associate with his heart fluttering graces your face.

“My heart is yours, Spencer. Glad you’re finally realizing how absolutely in love I am with you, you goose, even if it took all this.”

He laughs a little, almost deliriously, and smooths his trembling hand over your face.

“Guess the doughnuts weren’t enough, huh?”

You manage, and he shakes his head, quick to push back.

“They were. You’re always enough for me, no matter what you do.”

Could he sound any more smitten?

Procedure says he can’t go in the ambulance with you - there’s no need, you’re just getting stitches and some ice and he can visit you at the hospital, okay? But as he heads back to the - oh dear, still running, he really was in a hurry, wasn’t he? - car, Morgan glances sideways at him, signature smirk in place.

“Pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Spencer stares down at his hands in his lap. They’re stained, and a grimace floods his face when he realizes it’s not dirt, but your blood, coating his fingertips. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he bites back a nastier retort than his friend deserves.

“I guess I did. I can’t believe it took-“

Morgan sighs, stopping Spencer’s inevitable incoming guilt filled rambles.

“Hush. You told her. That’s what matters.”

Glancing down at Spencer’s fidgeting hands in his lap, he presses on the gas.

“Let’s get there, so you can get that off you. I’m shocked you got all dirty, with your germ thing.”

Spencer shrugs, looking out the window.

“For her? I’d-I think I’d do anything. No matter what it stained.”

Soap finds his hands at the hospital, but he finds you soon after, unable to stop the gentle press of his lips to your forehead, or the soft murmurs that follow as he tries to remind himself that much more of your blood didn’t spill.

ink - the third stain

Emily has to physically hold you back in the court room, when they take him out, his eyes fixed on you, and the team, almost hopeless.

“Then your client is a flight risk.”

You’re quite literally fighting her, suddenly terrified in a whole new way for your boyfriend, tears staining your face.

“Bail is denied.”

She’s got both arms wrapped around you, her soft, ‘I know’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s barely heard over your own pleas for her to let you go.

“Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

You hear someone sobbing - angry, fear-filled wailing - and until Emily has you turned around, your face in her shoulder, comes the realization that it’s you.

“He’s-Emily, what are we going to do, he’s not going to be okay, I-I can’t—“

The days that follow are dark. Going to the BAU without Spencer, let alone waking up without him beside you, is enough to send you into a spiral. You try to remind yourself that he’s worse off, that whatever hell he’s experiencing is ten times worse than your quiet fear and loneliness. So, to try to combat the weight that squashes your heart, you write him letters. Daily letters.

Spencer -

We have a case in Florida. Emily says it’ll be quick, but the Florida ones never are. We’d solve it ten times faster with you, you know? Geographical profiles are much harder alone, that’s for sure. The plane ride is quieter without you, and no one’s saying anything - you’d be saying something if you were here. Maybe that’s why we’re quiet. ♡

Every day. You don’t relent. If you can’t mail them in whatever town you get stuck in for work, you mail them in one big envelope when you get back home.

Spencer -

That case was rough. I cried twice - once when I spent over two hours staring at the map at the precinct and couldn’t find anything new, and once when Rossi accidentally snapped at me. He said he was sorry, that he’s ‘on edge’ right now - but aren’t we all? Emily’s working really hard to try to get you home. I wish I could come see you. I hope you’re safe. I love you. ♡

When you learn that he didn’t put you on the list of people who can visit him in that concrete hell, you almost lose what’s left your nerve, breaking down in Emily’s office, shaking. You don’t know whether you’re furious, in despair, or numb to it all.

“Emily, why? Why doesn’t he want me to come see him? If it was me, I’d want to see him every day, I wouldn’t want him to leave!”

She sighs, her face tight. Twisting your hands in your lap, you search her face for answers. Nausea claws at your throat.

“Honestly, my guess is it’s just that. He knows that if you come, he won’t want you to leave. It’ll hurt too much.”

“But Tara, and you, and his mother, and-

Spencer -

I think I understand. Sort of. I feel like there’s this pressure in my chest, and I can’t ever fully breathe. Not since you’ve been away. The weight on my heart never goes away. Missing you more every hour. ♡

Despite the slew of handwritten letters that reach him, you only get one back, after you and the team search his apartment - you keep it in your purse pocket, folded safe, and read it whenever your throat feels tight and your eyes burn. His untidy scrawl is enough to make you feel like a part of him is actually inside this letter - like he’s reading it himself to you, interwoven in the fibers of the paper.

Angel -

I wanted you to know I’m in solitary now - I made sure of it. I know you want me safe, almost more than I do. I love you beyond what I can say, my beautiful girl.

Yours, Spencer.

One night, you’re curled up in Spencer’s apartment, writing him a letter, as is your nightly routine. The ink stains the side of your hand now - an ever-present reminder of the fact that your heart constantly feels ripped out of your body. After addressing the letter to him, your phone buzzes - Emily.

Oh God.

“Hey. We figured out that- oh, you don’t care about all that. He’s coming home.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Paper and ink pen tumble to the floor as you shove your feet in shoes and snatch your jacket off the coat tree. Tension is coiled in your body the entire way there. Ink still stains the side of your hand, a permanent reminder that every time you needed to just tell him something - you had to pick up pen and paper.

Heart in your throat, you push open the door with shaking hand. There he stands, your Spencer. He’s still him, you think, although his face is tight, and sleep clearly hasn’t been something he’s seen much of.

Three months.

You walk in slowly, body trembling. One hand reaches up, runs through the curls that have grown so long.

“Your hair.”

You breathe out, voice barely audible. He nods, his face almost impassive. Tentative fingers trail down his cheek, make a path to hold his face. He nods, and then, you notice his eyes are misty.

“My angel.” He murmurs, almost in awe, and takes you in his arms with a fervor. Crushed against him, face buried in the cool fabric of his shirt, you bite back a sob, arms threaded around him.

“No. Cry, my darling girl, I’m— I’m tired of doing it alone.”

How could you refuse him? Just hearing his voice, let alone the relief you feel at being touched by him again, is enough to satisfy you for days, you think. For a bit, all that’s heard is uneven breaths, until he speaks, his voice rough and shaky.

“I need to see your face.”

He pulls back, face shining with tears, and you swallow back the lump that just won’t leave your throat.

Calloused hands - less soft than you remember - take yours, and then he frowns.

“Your hand.”

Your right hand is held up, inspected, like the blue on the inner side of it is red instead. You smile, laughing a little, still breathless.

“Ink, baby. Just ink. I was writing you a letter.”

He shakes his head, rubbing at the navy stain with his thumb, as if that will remove it.

“I would’ve kept writing. Never given up. You’d be sick of letters from me.”

“Never, sweet girl. There is no part of me who could ever find himself sick of you.”

After you’ve come home, he wastes no time in pressing less than tender kisses to your mouth and jawline and the column of your throat. It’s not until he’s reacquainted himself with your contours and the dip of your hipbones and the soft way you gasp out his name when he does that, that has you next to him, so he can see your face.

He needs to see your face.

Hand in his, still faintly stained from ink, he examines it, and then, softly, hesitantly, he meets your eyes.

“You know ink poisoning is actually rare? Pens we use are designed with non-toxic ink, to decrease any chances of fatal ingestion.”

You never mind his information sharing, but your eyebrows furrow tiredly at his timing.

“Spence, I’m not saying I don’t care, but we just— you just—”

“Please. Let me look at the woman I love and pretend for a few moments that my damn eidetic memory won’t play back the last three months of my life like some wretched tape.”

You let him, as he holds your cobalt-colored hand and your eyes droop, his soft voice telling you that rubbing alcohol will probably get that stain out. It almost feels normal.

Almost.

paint - the final stain

“Spence! Can you get paint water out of carpet with any amount of ease?”

You call your husband, turning back to your mildly sheepish five year old, whose water color adventure on the coffee table has quickly gone south.

In walks Spencer, not even noticing the overturned hard plastic cup or purpley-blue spill, eyes going straight to his daughter’s nearly finished picture.

“Beautiful, Penny. Looks incredible.”

He murmurs, bending to be eye level with a beaming Penelope, hand on her arm, before turning to you, mild tension and stress lining your face. His smile is gentle. It’ll wash out.

“Rubbling alcohol, angel.”

You nod, tension easing from your shoulders.

“We’ll go get it - we always clean our messes up, right lovely?”

He asks your daughter, lifting her with practiced care. She giggles, nodding, as they head from the room, letting you take a breath and set up the paints and picture in a new location - the kitchen table, with some newspaper tucked underneath because she’s five, and you of all people know spills happen.

Once she’s set up again - she really is so quiet when she’s engrossed in something - you find yourself curled up with Spencer on the couch, head on his shoulder, watching her paint and sing-song to herself.

“Think she’s lonely?”

Spencer asks, turning to you, his grin wide.

Troublemaker.

“Hmm. I think you just like me pregnant.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want Penny to be sad, ever.”

Silence, then, for a bit.

“She’s so much like you.”

Spencer muses, his fingers drawing patterns on the side of your sweater. You smile, fondly.

“You say that because I’m clumsy. She was dancing around with that paintbrush, that cup of paint water stood no chance.”

“No, I say that because she shines like you. No matter what tries to dim her.”

That night, when you peek in your daughter’s door to see Spencer reading her A Little Princess, she’s propped up against him, hazel eyes barely open. Affection swells in your chest as his voice carries on, even though she’s clearly almost in dreamland. In you walk, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then Spencer’s. He smiles gentle up at you - this is his favorite time of the day - and keeps reading.

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words, and everything in the world understands it.”

Once you’re back in the living room, you check on the earlier spill from today. All that’s left is a barely visible blue spot, no bigger than a quarter.

“No one will see it but you.”

Steadying, warm arms wrap around your ribs, and soft lips press against the side of your neck, washing away any insecurity about the state of your carpet.

“Besides, stains aren’t bad, sweet girl. They’re little reminders that things happened, good things, or bad things that brought us together. Memories, attached to splotches, attached to wounds, to paper, to skin. How convenient, to carry our most impactful moments like heaven-sent tattoos.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut

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xhoneygirlxx · 2 years ago

Text

In My Feels

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.

warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.

*if I miss anything please let me know.

a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!

Now I’m in my feels

Way up in the clouds somewhere now

Don’t know what’s real

Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you.

From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time.

You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him.

Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it.

It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.

Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.

Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.

There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.

“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up.

“Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes.

“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.”

“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.

“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger.

“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters.

“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.”

“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.”

Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.

“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."

Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.”

“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk.

“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.

Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.

Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.

“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.

As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.

As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.

There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.

But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.

“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.

“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.

“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.

“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.

“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.

“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.

“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.

“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.

You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.

“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.

Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.

“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.

“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.

“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.

“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.

“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.

No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.

With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.

“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.

The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.

“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.

“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”

“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”

You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.

“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”

“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.

“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.

“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.

“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.

“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.

“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.

Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.

Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.

Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.

“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.

“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.

“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.

“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.

“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.

“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.

Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.

“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.

“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”

The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.

“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.

“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.

That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.

You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.

Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.

Steve,

You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.

Can’t wait to get that ice cream.

-your favorite customer

683-027-9305

Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.

“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.

“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.

It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.

Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington friends to lovers #modern!steve harrington

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tinylongwing · 11 months ago

Note

Top five small birds go

PICKING ONLY 5 is CRUEL but I don't have time for 10. Species names will have the links to photo sources where applicable.

Long-tailed Manakin. They take like 4-5 years for the males to learn their dances and each year they look a little more like adults to match their experience! They are little and yet have very long tails!! And cute little caps! Very elegant tiny birds.

(Photo by me, bird handled and released on site with permits as part of MoSI, a long-running collaborative research program).

2. Wrentit. Look past the plain gray exterior, let me teach you some BIRD FACTS because these guys are basically aliens. They live in a very small part of the west coast of North America in scrub/chaparral, and we still don't really know how they got there or where their nearest relatives are or what birds they're even related to, though recently they think maybe it's parrotbills, which are otherwise mostly found in SE Asia.

During the breeding season, most female birds develop a brood patch, a section of bare skin on the belly for aiding in heat transfer to the eggs, and most male birds develop a swollen cloaca to facilitate sperm transfer. In some species where males help incubate, they also get brood patches. This is fine. Male Wrentits get brood patches. A little weird but not too crazy. Female Wrentits, however, get a swollen cloaca? Why?? Nothing else in North America does this? I don't.... understand.

Also they're cute, they have a song that's like a bouncy ball going down stairs, and males and females have slightly different songs, so even though we can't determine the sex in the hand like with normal birds, at least if they sing you can tell. Normal birds don't sing when being handled. Wrentits definitely sometimes do. I don't get it. But I love them for it.

(Photo mine, bird banded and released on site with permits as part of MAPS, a long-term research program).

3. Calliope Hummingbird. Itty bitty tiny creature, would absolutely spear you to death with its face if it thought it could pull that off. Hummingbirds in general are territorial and aggressive and these guys are no exception. Also they're beautiful. Look at that starburst of a face!

(I have photos but don't want to go dig them up, I'm lazy)

4. Java Sparrow. Help, I'm hopelessly charmed by how adorable they are. Unfortunately, apparently everyone else is too, and these are now critically endangered in their home range of Java due to habitat loss and poaching for the pet trade. The good?? news is they're also super invasive in places like Hawaii, so they're not about to go globally extinct, so that's cool, I guess.

5. Micronesian Rufous Fantail, formerly just Rufous Fantail, aka chichirika na'abak because look I don't know proper indigenous names for everything but I do for my study birds and I support their use. Chichirika is CHamoru for "showoff" and na'abak is "the one who will lead you astray", after the local stories of kids trying to follow these delightful little low-flitting creatures through the jungles and getting hopelessly lost, leading to village search parties.

Anyway, look at that tail!! Go listen to their cute little squeaks! I'm absolutely in love. I've banded literal hundreds of these and they never ever get old. Every single one of them is a treasure to me.

(Photo by me, bird banded and released on site as part of my very most beloved own tropical forest bird research program in the Northern Mariana Islands).

#ask meme #birblr

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redrose10 · 10 months ago

Text

Part 2 of three… Thank you for all the comments and messages!

CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader

Title: Cold Brewed Love

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun, drug references, gang activity, murder, overdose

Word Count: 3,824

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You woke up confused and alone in a room you didn’t recognize. Your throat hurt, but your head hurt worse. You looked around trying to make out your surroundings to get some idea of where you were. The room was empty except for an armchair in the corner with a small side table next to it. The only light in the room came from a small space between the curtains of what you assumed was a window. It seemed like you had been out for quite some time judging by the amount of sunlight.

You tried to stand up, but you felt too weak immediately falling to the ground. You tried once again, but froze when you heard the door handle begin to jiggle. The door swung open and a light was turned on making you squint from the change in brightness.

“Good morning Y/N, good to see you’re finally awake. Can I get you something to eat or maybe a coffee?”, a deep unfamiliar voice spoke.

“Who are you and how the fuck do you know my name?”, you spat not in the mood for pleasantries.

The man walked in and took a seat in the chair across the room. You took noticed of his expensive looking suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back. A strong cologne followed after him. He reminded you a lot of Yoongi.

“Is that anyway to speak to the man that saved your life and took you away from that monster?”, he said while lighting a cigar.

You scoffed, “You saved my life? My life was just fine until you kidnapped me and threw me in this room.”

“Oh dear Y/N. You really are too good and naive for Yoongi.”, the man chuckled.

The mention of Yoongi made your breath hitch.

“How do you know Yoongi?”

“Well Y/N…I am glad you asked. You see me and Yoongi go way back. We met when we were just children. We used to be very good friends, actually like brothers. We ran a little side business together. The largest drug manufacturing and distribution organization since the 80’s, you know… nothing too extreme. Then one day Yoongi’s parents decided to finally give him the reigns to control the business and suddenly he didn’t need me or our organization any more. I agreed to let him walk away because he was my brother and I loved him as such. I wanted him to have a good life either way.”

The man paused to take a long draw of his cigar before continuing, “But it turns out that wasn’t good enough for Yoongi. He was selfish. He wanted to take everything we had worked for while also making sure his past life would never get out to the public. He lied to me. He deceived me because he knew I trusted him. He took all of our assets, every cent. He destroyed any evidence that could be linked to him. And then to top it all off he went to the police to get the whole operation shut down to make sure this could never come back on him. But..unfortunately for him I’ve been able to build back most of what we had even though it’s nowhere near what we once had. It took a lot of time and cost me a lot of money and many of my men all while I’ve had to watch him live the life of luxury in his comfy office, going to galas, being praised and awed by strangers around the world that don’t know how evil he really is behind the facade of expensive suits and sultry looks. I vowed that I would get my revenge against him and make him pay for what he did to me…to us. I was starting to loose hope that I would ever get my chance.”

The man suddenly stood up and took a few long strides to kneel down in front of you. You pushed yourself back against the wall as far as you could while trying to conceal your whimpers.

The man poked his finger against your forehead, “And then I saw the photos of your little date. I could see it in his eyes…just how in love with you he is. I knew this wasn’t some random hookup like the others. And I knew that my time had finally come. Min Yoongi took everything from me and now I will take everything from him.”

“So what are you going to do? Just kill me to get back at him?”, you scoffed.

“Oh no no no Y/N. Not yet at least. I’m going to have some fun first. I want him to suffer for a while. I want him to worry about you until he’s sick to his stomach. For him to know your pain is all his fault. Then I want to kill him.”

You watched as the man walked over to the door before he turned to look back at you, “At the end of the day Yoongi doesn’t care about anyone or anything except himself, his image, and his money. You’re going to learn real soon about the real Min Yoongi.” The man stood up and left you speechless as you watched the door slam shut behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, Yoongi chanted as he drove around trying to figure out his next move. He knew he never should’ve asked you out. He scolded himself for being weak for you.

He thought back to the first time he saw you and how he developed an immediate crush on you. Something he’d never experienced before. He saw you behind the counter of the coffee shop. You were definitely new. You kept eyeing him before quickly turning away every time he’d try and make eye contact with you. He knew you liked him. He wasn’t stupid.

Unfortunately he liked you too. Your cheeks flushed from nervousness and the heat of running around in behind the counter. Your hair wet from sweat and plastered to your forehead. You bit your lip in concentration as you poured the coffee. You looked so cute to him and he wanted to get to know you. To date you and make you his.

Then you shakily handed him his coffee only to knock it down on the counter spilling all over his favorite custom made shoes. Sure he had three other pairs so it really wasn’t a big deal, but he took it as the opportunity to scold you hoping to make you hate him. Selfishly hoping it would keep you away from him so he wouldn’t fall for you even more.

But it didn’t work as he had hoped and he quickly fell more madly in love with you every time he saw you. Then his parents made him get a job at Jin’s Java House. He knew it was a bad idea from the start. He tried to argue with them, pleaded for another option but to no avail. He thought he was strong enough. He started off trying to be rude while working together to make you hate him even more then he already knew you did, but it only made him feel guilty and left him wanting to make it up to you any way he could.

Then he tried distracting himself with other women, sometimes as close even ten minutes before he came down for his shift at the coffee shop with you. But even when his secretary was topless and moaning underneath him as he thrusted into her on his office couch all he could think about was you and your beautiful smile and how he wished it was you below him instead. As he was burrowed deep inside someone else he fantasized about how he would take his time and do everything possible to pleasure you until it was you screaming his name over and over. He knew it was a lost cause at that point because he was a man in love. And now here he was driving around the city while you were God knows where because of him and his weaknesses.

Yoongi regretted his past life. He wasn’t proud of what he did. He had gotten in a little trouble at school so his parents had told him he was a failure and they would sell the company before allowing him to take control. He felt hurt and useless and desperate to prove them wrong.

So as a teenager he turned to crime. Him and his best friend started dealing drugs. It started small with just some weed or pills here and there to other friends and their acquaintances. Then it got bigger and bigger until next the thing he knew they were moving thousands of kilos of various drugs every year worth hundreds of millions of dollars. They had bases in Seoul, LA, New York, Tijuana, London, Rio, Moscow, and Beijing as well as dozens of smaller ones he couldn’t even remember any more. Money was rolling in like he’d never seen even though he already grew up wealthy. He had a new woman every night and said goodbye to them before the morning with no strings attached. He was on top of the world and the best part was he was doing it all with his best friend.

Then he got a call. His dads health was deteriorating. The generational family company was falling apart. His mom was coping by drinking and popping pills, probably from his own supply unbeknownst to her. They were proud of him for becoming so successful in his “pharmaceutical business”, a lie he told when people started questioning his job or where his money came from. His parents had changed their minds and wanted him to take over the company. Become the ceo and bring profitability and success back to the family name and business.

At first Yoongi told them to fuck off. He wasn’t going to give up what he had worked hard for after they tossed him aside like he wasn’t their own flesh and blood.

Then days later he got another call from one of the few people in the world that he respected, his grandmother. She asked Yoongi to take over the company that her and his grandfather had fought so hard to build and turn into an empire. She didn’t want to see it given to someone outside of the family or worse have it shut down completely.

Yoongi tried to politely decline, but then solemnly she begged him. She begged him to take over not only to save the company, but so that he could escape his life of crime before he ended up in prison or worse. She cried reminiscing about how many times she stayed up all night worried about him and what he was doing out in the world. How every phone call made her heart skip a beat fearing the worst. How she saw families being torn apart thanks to him and his business’s product. She begged him, even referring to him as her little dumpling, a nickname she had often used for him growing up that he hadn’t heard in years.

Yoongi didn’t ask how she knew about his secret life. He didn’t want to know to be honest, but he knew he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears any longer. So he called his parents the next day to accept the position.

His friend had been kind and understanding, offering to let Yoongi just walk away from everything and leave him in charge.

At first that was fine. Then one night on his way home he found out that his neighbors daughter overdosed. She was just sixteen. A star student and respected ballerina already being scouted by some of the biggest dance companies from all over the world. Yoongi knew the drugs were from his prior organization. There were no others around at the time.

He watched the girls parents standing in the pouring rain until their knees gave out and they hit the concrete and sobbed as the stretcher carrying their daughter was wheeled into the back of a waiting van. After that night his grandmothers voice started playing over and over in his head often keeping him up along with the screams of the parents he heard that night.

Yoongi decided he wanted to erase that part of his life like it never happened.

Because he was still trusted by his friend he had access to the bank accounts which he wiped clean. He destroyed every document he could find that would tie him to the organization. Anonymously he contacted police in every city he could think of and helped them to track down all of their operations getting them all shut down. Multiple people were arrested and a few even killed. He did his best to convince himself that their blood was not on his hands.

And when the few that were arrested tried to snitch and implicate Yoongi there was no significant evidence and the little the police could find was quickly swept under the rug thanks to a little cash swung their way.

Yoongi was able to walk away without anyone knowing of his past life. His friend left to pick up the pieces of a once great empire. And now here Yoongi was paying the price for something he thought was long behind him and could no longer keep him from happiness.

You walked around the room as you looked for an escape. The window had bars around it. Of course the door was securely locked. There was nowhere to go. You didn’t have your phone any longer. You resigned to taking a seat back on the floor trying to come up with a plan.

You weren’t sure how much time had gone by but at some point later in the day a woman appeared with a tray carrying a bowl of soup and some toast as well as an apple and a bottle of water. You thanked her even though you had no appetite at all.

As you sat under the window staring up at the little bit of the sky you could see you wondered what was happening in the outside world. What happened at the coffee shop when you didn’t show up for work? Did they call looking for you? You were going to fall behind in your classes if that even mattered any more. Was Yoongi even looking for you or was he worried this would get out in the public and ruin his image? It was all becoming too much and you began to cry fearing the future and the unknown.

After a while of crying and dozing off you decided you were getting a little hungry. Remembering the tray from earlier you decided against the soup which was now cold and gelatinous, but the toast still seemed okay so you picked it up taking a bite.

It was slightly stale but passable. As you mindlessly chewed you noticed a small piece of paper on the plate where the bread had been.

With your brows furrowed you unfolded the paper finding a hand written note. The writing was barely legible as it appeared quickly scratched down and was written in some kind of lipstick.

“I’ll come back tonight. When you hear three knocks at the door be prepared to run.”

Your mouth went dry. Your heart began to race. Quickly you chugged down the bottle of water as you contemplated if running was worth the risk. Surely if they caught you then you would be killed. And who is this woman and why is she helping you? What if it was a test?

You had a million different thoughts going through your mind, but they were cut short.

*Knock…Knock…Knock*

Slowly the door creaked open and the same woman from earlier peaked in the room. She motioned for you to follow her. What did you have to loose you thought so you did.

The two of you tiptoed down the hall and some stairs before you heard shouting after you.

“Run!”, the woman shouted so you sprinted not far behind her. You ran down hallways and and stairs. Looking for any exit door.

Just when you saw your hope, a door with a large window facing the outside world just down the hall from you, you were grabbed and harshly thrown down on the ground. You looked up seeing Yoongi’s friend breathing heavily.

“This is what I get huh? I tried to let you stay upstairs in a warm room. I gave you food. Yoongi always said I was the soft one out of the two of us. I guess he was right, but not any more.”, he spat dragging you down the hall by your arm.

Frantically you searched for the woman from earlier who tried to help you. You hoped she got out or was at least safe, but you quickly realized that was not true. A blood curdling scream rang through the air followed by a single gunshot. Your eyes widened in horror.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not gonna kill you just yet. Not before you’ve gone on a final date with your Yoongi.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as the man threw you in a cell, the iron gates loudly clanking shut. It looked like you were in a dungeon. It was cold and there was zero light coming through.

Without speaking the man tossed you an old dirty towel to use as a blanket before heading back upstairs leaving you down there alone.

Days went by. You were barely fed and barely slept. You had accepted your fate at that point. Unsure if it was the delirium setting in or what but you often found yourself chuckling at your situation.

You missed the days of going to college. You missed your friends. You missed the smell of coffee and the warmth it brought. You couldn’t believe how your life had turned around in the matter of hours all thanks to you falling in love with a lier, con artist, the devil? You weren’t really sure how to view Yoongi right now. He was probably leading a meeting right now without a care in the world. He’s probably going out to dinner later with some woman he met on his way to work with the sole intention to get in her pants by the end of the night. A small part of you hoped he was worried about you. Looking for you. Doing anything to help. Because a small part of you still loved him.

You hadn’t heard anyone walk in until you heard the iron gate slide open ending in a loud clank.

“Put this on. And use these wipes to clean yourself up.”, an unfamiliar voice said.

You sat staring at the items in front of you not moving.

“Bosses orders”, the man growled.

Slowly you grabbed the wipes and began wiping down your face and arms. It actually felt kind of nice.

You reached for the other items, a black cocktail dress and hair brush. You took the brush and ran through your hair a few times until the knots were out.

You looked at the dress and then at the man in front of you. He rolled his eyes and sighed before turning around and facing the wall. Quickly you removed your clothes and put the dress on before the man could turn around.

Just as you finished, the familiar smell of cigars entered the air and not long after Yoongi’s friend appeared.

“Wow don’t you look nice. I can see why Yoongi likes you. I think he’ll appreciate that you dressed up just for him.”, he said before blowing a cloud smoke through your cell.

“Now go ahead and stand up against that wall.”, he pointed towards the other side of the cell.

You crossed your arms in defiance refusing to move.

He chuckled, “I like you Y/N. I really do. Too bad I’m only giving you twenty four hours to live.” Your face dropped in realization at his statement.

A bright flash lit up the cell for just a moment before you realized your photo had been taken.

“Thanks sweetheart. I’m sure Yoongi will love it.”, he laughed before leaving you alone once again.

Yoongi was back at his place pacing back and forth. He’d ignored call after call from Hobi. He’s sure he’s wondering where he and/or you are and he doesn’t have the brain power right now to come up with a believable lie.

As he stared out at the river below his apartment he heard a new notification on his phone. A text message from an unknown number came through showing the preview of a photo.

Clicking on the message he instantly dry heaved sure he would’ve fully vomited had he consumed anything today.

A photo of you in a black dress. Your hair frazzled. Immediately Yoongi noticed the bruising on your body. The cut on your lip and welt on your forehead. What killed him the most was the look on your face. The look of fear, of despair. He could see you were holding back tears and it was all thanks to him.

Seconds later another message came through, “Y/N’s a beauty Yoongi. I always did think you had good taste when it came to women and it seems like even after all these years nothing has changed. You have 24 hours to find us. If you involve the police I’ll kill her instantly. If you even care…”

You had changed back into your old clothes giving yourself a little more coverage from the cold. The floor was made of stone but you were so exhausted you were able to drift off to sleep quite quickly.

You fell into dreamland. Dreaming that you were on a beach. The warm sun shone down on you as a breeze rippled through the air. The ocean waves crashed gently against the sand next to you as you walked along the edge. Looking up you saw Yoongi just down the beach waiting for you. He flashed you a gummy smile showing you the two drinks he had in his hands. Just as you began to walk towards him the sky turned dark and a giant wave came crashing down on you dragging you out to sea. You screamed for help unable to get yourself out of the current as the waves kept you down. Running out of fight you felt yourself slowly drifting under water father and rather. The last thing you remembered was hearing Yoongi screaming your name.

You jerked awake sweaty and out of breath with your hand clutching to your chest.

Sitting up you did your best to try and calm yourself down taking deep slow breaths.

Faintly from a distance you swore you heard your name shouted. You brushed it off thinking it was just a residual memory from your dream.

Then you heard it again, a little clearer this time and you were a little more certain.

“Yoongi?”, you whispered to yourself hearing a familiar sound as the door slammed open.

#bts #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi au #ceo yoongi #bts yoongi #bts au fanfic #yoongi #bts fic #suga

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alikelyst0ry · 1 month ago

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @trulybetty!! 🥳 🎂 🎁

@wildemaven & I put our heads together and did a thing. Hope you don't mind that we borrowed Clementine for a bit. 🤗 💕

pairing - Michael Robinavitch x ofc! Clementine Davis

word count - 500ish

warnings - absolutely none. it's all fluff.

"What's this for?" Clementine questions as Topaz - her name badge today says Opal - slides a small cup and saucer in front of her.

"Jack and Alix were here this morning and she mentioned it was your birthday. But also, you look like maybe you could use a pick-me-up," she shrugs.

"That bad, huh?" Clem huffs out a soft laugh, pulling the coffee and ice cream concoction closer before taking a sip. "Long day. This is delicious, though. Thank you."

"Salted caramel java chip affogato. Secret menu item for my favorite customers," she smiles and gestures to Clementine's outfit, a step up from the scrubs she normally sees the other woman in. "Big plans tonight?"

"I had a date. Friend of my brother's. He got waylaid. It's fine," Clementine waves a hand dismissively. "Stopped next door and grabbed a bottle of wine, thought I'd pop in here and get something for dinner to go with, and celebrate at home on my couch in my pajamas."

Topaz looks up as the bells over the front door of the diner announce a new arrival and then she grins back at Clem.

"Flattered as I am to be even minutely included in your alternate birthday plans, I think I have a better idea for you and that bottle of wine."

"Selling alcohol now, T?" Robby asks as he reaches the counter, having only caught the tail end of her and Clementine's conversation.

"Ya know, I'm really struggling to get that liquor license approved. There's one guy on the city council that still has beef with Myrna. I can't imagine why," Topaz deadpans.

"Do I even want to know?" Robby laughs, placing a hand on the back of Clementine's chair and Topaz doesn't miss the way they both seem to relax just a fraction and lean into the other's orbit.

"Probably not. If you don't know, you can't be forced to testify," she grins. "What you should know however, if you don't already, is that it's my girl Clementine's birthday and it is absolutely criminal that—"

"Oh, no, Topaz," Clem shakes her head, swiveling her stool so she can look back and forth between the two of them. "Michael, really, no, please do not listen to her—

"She plans on going home and celebrating alone," Topaz continues, talking over Clem and reaching under the counter to grab Robby's take out order and sit it in front of him. "When you have more than enough here to share and I'll even throw in a couple slices of Hazel's lemoncello mascarpone cake for dessert."

"Robby, ignore her. I'm sure you have other plans and—"

"Clem," Robby interjects, smiling softly at her. "I would be honored to share my dinner and have the pleasure of your company. You like carbonara?"

"I do actually," Clementine says, smiling back at him. "That sounds wonderful."

"Well then," Robby grins, holding his hand out and Clementine takes it readily, letting him pull her up from her stool. "Your place or mine?"

#michael robinavitch fanfic #dr robby fanfiction #dr robby x ofc #the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #dr michael robinavitch fanfic #michael robinavitch #Michael robinavitch x ofc #dr robby

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astrophileous · 2 years ago

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Thunderstorm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Spencer Reid was never a fan of thunderstorms. On one particular night, he woke up to one.

Warning(s): established relationship, mentions and/or depictions of gun violence/injury, protective spencer, parent-child relationships, I think that's it (?) this one is really just fluff wrapped in more fluff 🥰

Word Count: 2400-ish

Author's Note: HELLO! I'm finally back from the dead (yayyy)!! To celebrate, and as we all wait for me to finish rewriting the remaining chapters of love bugs, I'm posting this fic here for you all to enjoy :) I think it's the fluffiest piece I've ever written (srsly, not even a drop of angst!) so I hope you will enjoy! Let me know what you think okkk, don't forget to LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG if you like this one xx btw I'm pretty sure this can be read as gender neutral reader since I'm positive I didn't use any gender-conforming words, but pls lmk if I'm wrong!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer hated thunderstorms.

He had many memories of them, not particularly good ones. Most of them involved him being on the field during yet another atrocious case, gun and flashlight in hand, trekking after muddy footsteps that belonged to an UnSub he was chasing.

He had been shot, once, during a thunderstorm. The bullet lodged itself against his bulletproof vest before the perpetrator had received a retaliation shot from Derek's gun. The vest had saved his life that night. The nasty bruise decorating his torso for the following week, though, served as a sufficient reminder in Spencer's mind.

Thunderstorms were a natural enemy whenever he was on the field. Unfortunately for him, the rivalry seemed to continue past the doorstep of his home, too.

Back when sleep was a luxury that he had to scour and cherish, thunderstorms would be the antagonist that kept the two even further apart. The sound of heavy rain against windows was a line of needles prickling into his circadian rhythm, erasing any possibilities of sleep if he was even lucky enough to have them in the first place.

On those nights, Spencer would sit against the headboard with a book in his lap, hoping that the passage detailing the fall of Joseon Dynasty in Korean Peninsula--or the rise or Majapahit Empire in the island of Java, whichever had caught his interest more at that specific moment in time--would be enough distraction to take his mind off the disaster wreaking havoc outside of his apartment.

Thanks to years of therapy, Spencer now had found it easier to chase sleep whenever he needed it. Still, its sweet relief stood no chance against the chaos brought by a raging thunderstorm.

This time, too, was no different.

Spencer had been dreaming. A land of reverie where his tongue had tasted honey, where his nose had recognized the hint of mint and juniper berry before the image was rattled by a high-pitched shriek in the sky.

When Spencer opened his eyes, the bedroom was enveloped in a near state of total darkness.

The sharp cry he heard had come from a lightning that struck momentarily before he woke up. Five seconds later, another one struck again, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Spencer's body as he waited for the imminent thunder to shatter the atmosphere.

Spencer shut his eyes in an attempt to get his racing heart back under control. Once he opened them again, the remnants of sleep had washed away from his pupils, allowing him to take in the empty bed, the chill bedroom, and the opened door right across from where he was sitting.

Frowning, Spencer thought back to a few hours prior. How he had promptly retired to the bedroom after coming home from work. He remembered clearly--courtesy of his eidetic memory--having slammed the door shut before he got ready for bed.

A creak in the floorboards outside his bedroom door compelled Spencer to reach into the bedside drawer, fingers inching nearer to where the secret holster of his gun was located.

Before his hand could wrap around the weapon, the bedroom door was pushed ajar, revealing a familiar figure standing in the doorway, outline cast by a hazy kind of luminance.

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief. "I thought you were an intruder."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement. A playful smile sweetened by the gentle glow radiating off the flickering candle in your hand.

"It's just me," you assured him, finally stepping into the threshold and placing the candle on top of the dresser.

"I can see that." He watched you approaching, gaze never straying even when you picked up the comforter a tiny bit to slip back into bed. "Where did you go?"

"Went down to check the breaker. Power's out completely, by the way. Looks like the storm took out the whole block."

He made a disapproving face at your response. "You were in the basement? Alone?"

Your forehead furrowed at the tone of Spencer's voice. It wasn't until you glimpsed the telltale sign of worry in his eyes that your shoulders eventually deflated. "I'm okay, Spencer."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because," you began, an amused smile threatening to split your face into two, "it's a three flights of stairs walk from our bedroom, darling. I think I can manage it just fine."

"But--"

"Besides," you cut him off, silencing him with a gentle palm pressing on his cheek. Spencer instantly melted at the contact. "I know how you get during nights like this. I wanted to let you have as much sleep as you could before the storm eventually wakes you up."

His hand circled around your wrist, then, bringing it upwards so that he could leave tiny kisses on your palm before he entwined his fingers with yours. "You still should've woken me up."

"Spence--"

"I know, I know. You could've done it yourself, I don't doubt it. I just--" he paused, swallowing a lump before continuing, "--I could've just waited here. In the bedroom. But in case anything happened, I would've been there for you."

The admission was quiet within the four walls of your bedroom. You knew that Spencer's plea had nothing to do with a toxic need to be controlling. Instead, it had stemmed from the vulnerability within. A naked truth that nestled in the deepest corners of Spencer Reid's soul.

The years that you had spent together allowed you to understand Spencer at a level nobody else could. They allowed you to understand that this silly request was nothing more than a fruit of his vigilant bones, forged consistently throughout his years in law enforcement. Spencer Reid, underneath his soft eyes and tender touches, had witnessed all of the gruesome layers of the world, lost far more things than anyone ever should.

It was only logical, now that Spencer had you in his life--a miraculous reprieve to his otherwise ghastly world--he would spend every waking moment to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

Always.

With this knowledge in mind, you couldn't, in good conscience, bring yourself to deny Spencer's plea, no matter how foolish it might seem.

What you did, instead, was shifting yourself closer to his body, seeking permission with your eyes before you leaned forward for a quick kiss.

"I'm sorry, darling," you offered sincerely. "I'll keep that in mind for next time, yeah? How does that sound?"

The relief was blinding as it washed over Spencer's whole being. "Thank you," he muttered before kissing your knuckles. "And I'm sorry, too, for being like this."

You shook your head firmly. Not because you didn't accept his apology, but because you didn't need one. Spencer didn't have anything to apologize for.

When you told him as much, Spencer's only reply was to press his lips to yours.

You were rendered pliant underneath his ministrations, your body molding into his as if you were two fabrics cut from the same cloth. Spencer poured all of his emotions into the kiss. Wishing--begging--that you could taste just how consuming the love he harbored for you was. The same way he could taste your heart beneath the hint of honey on your lips.

Once breathing became a chore, Spencer took the heavy decision to pull away, settling for resting his forehead on top of yours instead.

"Do you wanna go back to sleep?" you whispered.

Spencer wanted to nod, feeling a huge load pressing on every inch of muscle in his body. But before he could take you up on the offer, a distant sound between the roaring of thunders caught his attention, stopping his words right in their tracks.

"Did you hear that?" Spencer asked.

"Hear what?" You frowned. "The thunder?"

"No." He rushed to get up from the bed, gaze apologetic as he looked at you from the doorway. "Stay here? I'll be back soon."

Soft footsteps trudged along the landing of your two story house, leading Spencer towards another door located right by the stairs. He knocked slowly on the wooden door, twice, before pushing it open with a gentle nudge of his hip.

The room he entered was smaller than the room he shared with you. During the days, the windows on the far end of the wall would offer a mesmerizing view of the creek that ran along the backside of the neighborhood. During nights like this, however, they merely provided another harsh peek at the tantrum that mother nature was throwing against the world.

Although the room was swallowed in darkness, Spencer could still make out the silhouettes inside. From the haphazardly scattered toys on the floor, the colorful drawings taped on the walls, even to the lavender-colored furniture that seemed to fill every available corner in the entire space.

Amongst them all, the one silhouette that managed to pull at Spencer's heartstrings was the one curled up on the center of the bed. A usually joyous sunshine, reduced to a whimpering ball under a cotton unicorn-themed blanket.

"Princess."

Spencer tugged the blanket down, revealing misty eyes and pouting lips on a face he held dearly. A sob managed to wreck itself out of the little girl's chest, plummeting Spencer's heart further down the abyss of no end.

"Oh, sweetheart."

He gathered the 4-year-old in his arms, feeling her immediately hugging his neck. Her body was still shivering with tiny whimpers and sobs, all of which Spencer tried to subside gently by constant strokes down her back.

"It's okay. You're okay," he shushed quietly, rocking his body to a phantom tune while she clung to his chest. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?"

The girl sniffled aloud before lifting her head, her tiny hands rubbing rigorously on the tear stains around her eyes.

"The-the thunders," she murmured. "It was so loud. I woke up and everything was d-dark. Daddy, I'm scared!"

She threw her arms around his neck again, crying softly into the collar of his sleeping shirt. Spencer tightened his embrace around his daughter, heart breaking into pieces with every tear shed from her innocent eyes.

"Sshh, it's alright, princess. Everything's alright. Daddy's here now," Spencer cooed. "Do you wanna sleep with us tonight? Hm?"

His daughter started to nod frantically. "Don't forget Mr. Elphie, Daddy."

Chuckling, Spencer quickly grabbed the elephant stuffed animal lying next to her pillow. "Of course not. Mr. Elphie is coming with us, isn't he?"

Spencer began to retreat back in the direction of your bedroom, all the while conversing with his little girl to keep her mind off the storm that was still raging wildly outside.

You were checking something on your phone by the time Spencer finally returned. Immediately, you tossed the device aside once you saw him, eyes widening in concern when you saw your daughter's limbs entangled around Spencer's form.

"What happened?" you asked.

Spencer headed for the bed, slowly putting down the little girl who instantly cuddled your side after he had tucked her under the duvet.

"The thunders are scary," your daughter mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

Your eyes flicked towards Spencer, who gave a single nod of confirmation before settling back on his side of the bed.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry." You brushed back the hair from her face, taking in the sight of your favorite pair of eyes that seemed to have lost their usual sparkles in the wake of her tears. "What do you wanna do, hun? Should I tell you a story? Play a little music?"

"I wanna sleep here with you and Daddy," she said in a shaky voice. "Is that okay?"

Kissing the crown of her head, you answered, "Of course it's okay, sunshine. Come here."

Your daughter fell back into your awaiting arms. Her small frame fitting so easily into the front side of your body. You watched as her tiny fingers clutched Mr. Elphie tighter, breath evening out while her face burrowed even deeper into your chest.

It felt as if hours had passed before you could find the will to rip your gaze away. In all honesty, you could probably have spent an entire eternity staring at the little miracle in your arms had the universe given you the chance. When you lifted your head, your eyes automatically locked with Spencer's, who looked as if he, too, had been entranced by the sight in front of him.

"She's incredible," Spencer confessed into the night, voice fragile with the weight of awe it seemed to carry. "I can't believe she's ours."

You extended your hand towards him, smiling brightly once Spencer secured it in his own.

"Seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," you mused, eyes glinting mischievously from the knowledge that your daughter--just like her beloved Daddy--also had a fear of thunderstorms. "Like father like daughter, huh?"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared of thunderstorms. I'm just... not fond of them"

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up." He bit your knuckles playfully, seemingly pleased with himself when he managed to elicit a laugh out of your chest. "Go get some sleep. You have an early day tomorrow."

"Speak for yourself, Mister." You settled your head back on the pillow, Spencer mirroring your position without breaking his hold around your hand. "Where are you going again?"

"Florida. Miami."

"Damn," you muttered, temporarily panicking about your terrible choice of words before calming back down once you saw your daughter sleeping soundly. "I bet it's nice there this time of year."

"It's Miami. The weather barely changes there all year-round."

"Exactly my point."

"Besides," Spencer added, squeezing your hand once, "it's not a vacation. It doesn't matter where I'm going, I'll only be seeing dead bodies all day long."

"Okay. I really don't need to start seeing corpses in my head right before going to sleep, so thanks for that."

"You started it."

"I most certainly did not." You scoffed. "I'm not liking this conversation. Now, can we please go to sleep?"

Spencer had a retort ready on the tip of his tongue. But once he saw how peaceful you looked with your eyes closed, entangled as one with your daughter, he decided against it.

At last, he opted to shuffle closer on the bed until he could wrap his arm around the two of you, letting the scent of mint from your shampoo and juniper berry from your daughter's body wash to wrap around his whole being.

Spencer was still not a fan of thunderstorms.

But on nights like this, he had to begrudgingly admit that maybe, maybe, they weren't really that bad after all.

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ratbugs · 24 days ago

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🥕MINECRAFT JAVA SERVER ADVERT ADVERT ALERT 🥕

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well boy howdy to i have the server for you!

Welcome to the MAGICUS!

the server of your dreams. The server is in beta rn, and has a really lovely dev who is so devoted to this server.

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or -> https://discord.gg/magicus

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okay in all seriousness, i joined this server last week and it’s the most fun i’ve had on Minecraft ever.

the mod pack provided for this server is… AMAZING?? it’s got the crunchiest sound effects, a corner map WOO LETS GO, a whole bunch of new mobs, new items,

and best of all a bunch of custom armors and weapons that the creator of the server has been so lovingly working on. (also also new recipes like BIG BURGER).

ALSO the world is BEAUTIFUL!!!! there’s a whole ton of custom stuff like custom trees and all sorts of cool stuff you to find when you explore. very very cool!!

the server is VERY LORE focused and NOT PVP focused, if you wanna join and fight people… no.

if you wanna join and make friends and have a fun time… yes! also i’m there so like, BONUS!

there’s a couple teams you can join right off the bat, (or join none of you want lol), and the server is very focused on working with your team.

There is VC but you don’t have to use it if you don’t want (anxious like me LMAO)

!CAUTION! —-> the discord of this server is heavily intertwined with the server itself but it’s… chaotic to say the least. would recommend caution joining if your a minor (lots of cussing, way to many exploding joker gifs). but it’s also a really fun community to be a part of. very welcoming.

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here’s my base on the server isn’t it cool :)))

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I’d really love it if some people would join and STAY.

a lot of people have been joining and leaving which makes me sad because you can really tell the care and love the dev has been putting into it. and everyone might be CRAZY on there but they’re all very sweet at the end of the day

so if you join, lemme know you’re from here ;)

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#not sponsored #LMAO #minecraft server #plz join uwu🥹#minecraft #mc #minecraft world #gameposting #video game #video game server

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betta-butch · 3 days ago

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Hi! I love seeing your tanks on my dash! Your kuhli loaches especially are so cuuute! How long did it take for you to figure out which plants you like best? Your tanks always look so lush and I feel like I’m battling algae no matter what I try 😭

thank you!!! when I first started getting really into fish keeping & live plants, I went to a LFS and talked with one of the employees to see what they thought might be a good fit for my tank at the time. I ended up getting a fairly wide range of plants and tried to let the plants do their thing to see what worked and what didn’t. I really recommend getting a selection of different plants and seeing how they do in your tank… that being said, here are some personal opinions on plants that I have tried out.

anubias & java ferns are slow growing but hardy, I used a lot of them in the beginning and it gave me a pretty reliable option when planting tanks. they can also be connected to wood which can help provide more dimension to a tank. floaters are pretty hardy too and use nitrates up quickly, they can also block out light which can reduce algae growth. and in the 20, the vallisneria I have is sending runners EVERYWHERE. it isn’t my favorite plant but it really is an enthusiastic grower in my tank.

I still have times where I see people’s perfectly manicured and maintained tanks and go “how the hell do you manage that”. at the end of the day, I try to just have fun and try to enrich my pets environment! here are some photos of my older tanks.

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vintage-tech · 11 months ago

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useful information: How to get a USB Blu-Ray player to work on your computer

Not a post about vintage technology, just an explanation of what you think might be simple to do but isn't: There are Blu-Ray players that plug into your computer by USB, and you discover that just plugging it in doesn't make it work* in the same manner that CD-RWs or DVD-RWs are automatically recognised and function. You will see "BR Drive" in My Computer and the name of whatever movie you have inserted, but that's as far as you're able to go.

*There is software you can buy to make a Blu-Ray (internal or external) function, sure, and if an internal came with your computer it's likely already installed -- but if you're like me you don't have that software, you're cheap and won't pay for software, and you want to use what you have installed already or find free solutions.

Looking in the Blu-Ray drive's package, there's not a lot of info about what you're supposed to do. The above no-name Blu-Ray player cost $40 from a popular website; name-brand ones can set you back $120 or so. Looking around online for those instructions, I never saw the whole set of directions in one place, I had to cobble them together from 2 or 3 sites. And so here I share that list. To keep out of trouble, I'm not linking any files -- Google will help you.

Get VLC, the free video player available for pretty much any operating system. Thing is, it doesn't come with the internals to make it work with Blu-Ray even if when you go to the Play Media menu there is a radio button for selecting Blu-Ray.

Get MakeMKV, a decoder for reading Blu-Ray disks. This had been totally free during the beta testing period but it's come out and has a month or two trial period you can work in.

Get Java if you don't already have it. Reason for this is, the menu systems on Blu-Ray disks uses this... technically it's not required, however it does mean you don't have options such as special features, language and sound changes, or scene selection if you don't have Java installed; insert a disk, it can only play the movie.

Get the file libaacs.dll online so you have AACS decoding. I am told it hasn't been updated in awhile so there may be disks produced after 2013 that won't work right, but you won't know until you try.

There's a set of keys you will also want to have so that the player knows how to work with specific disks, and so do a search online for the "FindVUK Online Database". There will be a regularly-updated keydb.cfg archive file on that page to pick up.

Got those three programs installed and the other two files obtained? Okay, here are your instructions for assembly...

In VLC: go to Tools, Prefs, click "show all"… under the Input/Codecs heading is Access Modules then Blu-Ray: Select your region, A through C. You can change this if you need to for foreign disks. Next related action: go to My Computer and C:, click into Program Files and VLC, and this is where you copy the libaacs.dll file to.

In MakeMKV: click View, then Preferences, and under Integration - add VLC.

Confirm that Java is set up to work with VLC by going to the computer's Control Panel, going to System Properties, and into Environment Variables. Click System Variables, and click New to create this key if it doesn't already exist: … Name: Java … Value: [the location of the Java 'jre#.##' folder... use Browse to find it in C:\Program Files\Java]

Let's go back into My Computer and C:, this time go to Program Data, and then do a right-click in the window and select New and Folder. Rename this folder "aacs" (without the quotes), and then you click into it and copy the keydb.cfg file here.

REBOOT.

And now you should be able to recognise Blu-Ray disks in your player and play them. Three troubleshooting notes to offer in VLC:

"Disk corrupt" -- this means MakeMKV has not decoded and parsed the disk yet, or that you don't have the libaacs.dll in place so that it can decode the disk. ...After checking the VLC folder for the DLL to make sure, launch MakeMKV, then go to File, Play Disk, and select the Blu-Ray drive. Now it will grind a bit and figure out the disk's contents.

A note appears when a movie starts saying there will be no menus, but the movie plays fine -- Java isn't running. ...Invoke Java by going to the Java Settings in Start: Programs. You don't have to change anything here, so Exit, then eject the disk and put it back in to see if the movie's menu now appears.

Buffering between chapters, making the movie pause for a few seconds? There is a setting for this but I need to find that info page again for where that is. (If you find it, tell me where it is!)

I don't claim to know a lot but if you have any questions I might have some answers or suggestions. So far I've watched "Office Space" and Disney's "Coco" without any issues beside occasional buffering.

#technology #not vintage #blu ray #how to #learning as we go

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obitinenovelwhen · 24 days ago

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Obitine Week 2025

Day Three - Nostalgia

“You may open your eyes now, Duchess.”

The words came from Obi-Wan, who’d been leading Satine by the hand through a bustling lower level of Coruscant. At Obi-Wan’s urging, she’d had her eyes closed ever since since they’d dismounted his speeder bike, impatient to see the “surprise” he had promised her before the Coronet took her back to Mandalore. And despite the temptation, she hadn’t peeked—not even when she’d nearly tripped over a dent in the ferrocrete, held upright only Obi-Wan’s grasp on her waist. So when she opened her eyes to take in a vibrantly colored diner—and to see a large, four-armed Besalisk grinning broadly at her—her surprise and delight were truly genuine.

“Dex!” Satine exclaimed, rushing forward to give him a hug.

Dex’s four arms reciprocated with a firm, but not crushing, embrace. “It does this old Besalisk’s heart good to see ya’, Sat’ika. I’ve been dancing with joy here since your Ben told me you were on Coruscant, you know!”

She turned just in time to catch Obi-Wan flush slightly at Dex’s use of their private pet name. “I remembered how well you two got along, when Dex was ferrying us between planets during the war, and I thought you might wish to catch up.”

Dex’s arms released and rested on his large belly as he let out a hearty laugh. “Get along is one word for it, eh! I’ve been hopin’ all these years you two would come to your damned senses and settle down someplace together.”

Now it was Satine’s turn to flush as a few of the diners looked up from their meals. Given that she wasn’t in her regalia and was dressed rather simply in a plain blue blouse and skirt, she was unlikely to be recognized. But the sudden attention from random onlookers made her uneasy. “Perhaps we should sit for a moment, get something to drink.”

Seeming to realized that he’d put her on the spot, his mirth faded a bit. “Of course, Sat’ika. Sorry to be so blunt with you right off the start. We can all have us a booth and get some nice, cool Java Juice.”

As she and Obi-Wan moved to seat themselves in the booth Dex had indicated, Satine gave the Besalisk a smile. “You remembered?”

“Of course I remembered! Your Ben here has been a stranger to Coruscant of late, what with those damned Clone Wars and all, but he still stops by every week he’s here for my Java Juice. He’d well deny it, but I know he does it because a particular Duchess was always partial to it.”

Obi-Wan regarded Dex with a slight frown as the larger man eased himself into the booth seat across from them. “That’s the second time now you’ve used that name. I’d forgotten that you were…privy to that information.”

Dex showed them a wide, toothy grin. “Your old master and I played fools, but anyone who’d have spent five minutes watching you two would’a known you were smitten for each other.”

“We tried to keep things discrete,” Satine pointed out before Obi-Wan could argue, hoping her flush this time around wasn’t too apparent.

“Well, you see, the word there is ‘tried,’” Dex said, scratching at his stubble. “But I don’t think what you two have can be hidden for long, Sat’ika.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in what she knew had to be attempt—and not a very successful one, not to someone who knew him as well as she did—to appear nonchalant. “Have?”

“Yes, ‘have,’ old friend. Anyone watchin’ you two now can see there’s a spark between ya’ brighter than the suns of Jakku.”

Satine let his words settle in as a server droid set down their drinks and a plate of something warm and savory-smelling. She risked a glance at Obi-Wan, keen to gage his reaction, only to find that he was also peering at her. Their shared gaze didn’t last long—perhaps a few seconds, nothing more—but in that time she could see in his eyes the same question echoing in her mind.

Is he right?

Just a few days before, Satine had disclosed as much to Obi-Wan, let him know she’d still loved him despite all their years apart. And he’d let her know, too, in his own way, that he’d once felt the same. But now? She knew in her heart she’d love him until her dying day, but the only hint that he shared her sentiment was that she saw something shift in him when he looked at her, or when their hands accidentally brushed while reaching for their cups.

Dex, perhaps detecting the shift in her mood, lifted his cup of Jawa Juice and held it out in a toast, his wide smile returning. “To you two crazy kids! Here’s hopin’ you’ll always have each other.”

Obi-Wan and Satine shared another glance as they returned the toast. Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, just looked at her with the same look he’d given her on the Coronet, after Merrick had been killed and before they’d parted to attend to their separate duties. The same look he’d worn when they’d said farewell on Mandalore, all those years ago.

The look that said he wanted to tell her something, but couldn’t.

As they all tucked into their drinks and food, laughing and reminiscing about old times, Satine hoped that someday, somehow, he finally would tell her.

@weekofobitine

#obitine #obi wan x satine #satine kryze #duchess satine #obitine headcanon #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #obitine fic #weekofobitine #obitine week 2025 #obitine fanfiction #obitine week #dexter jettster #dex’s diner #duchess of mandalore #voyage of temptation #Moulin Rouge reference

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hp-hcs · 2 years ago

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Yandere Theo & Enzo x male muggle reader

Where they both go out one night to see what the outside of the wizarding world is like and bump into a muggle (the reader) who lets them stay at his house and shows them around, thinking they’re tourists.

But they fall madly in love with him and now when they have to go back to hogwarts they kidnap him and take him with them.

The reader is stuck in their room, a spell cast where he can’t leave and he’s freaking out.

+ can they be like super touchy with him and affectionate and possessive and he’s just thinking that it’s like a normal thing from “whatever country they’re from”

T h a n k s (:

OH i wish i had a tenth of the imagination y’all have i mean cmon y’all be out here bringing the most well thought out ideas and my fics are all just like “l i ght hu ose 👍🥰👍”

oh also i don’t speak italian so if i fucked up that’s why lmfao i took fucking latin in high school, not anything actually useful 🥲

requests open!

BIC — yandere! enzo berkshire x male! muggle! reader x yandere! theodore nott

warnings: kidnapping/abduction, infatuation (?), implied tobacco use

(also ik they wouldn’t be using US dollars but shhhh)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Oh, Merlin, my father is going to kill me-”

“Relax,” Theo rolled his eyes, a bit winded from Apparating. “Think of it as just a… fifteen minute excursion. Tops.”

“Right, tops,” Enzo mumbled anxiously, rubbing his freezing hands together as another gust of snow blew past.

As he stamped his feet in an attempt to get feeling back into his frigid lower limbs, Enzo looked through the windows of the damned store Theo just had to show him. (There’s this one boy there, Enz, and he’s just gorgeous. You gotta see him.)

Large posters dominated most of the windows, advertising things Enzo had never heard of before, like whatever a ‘Monster Java’ and ‘Geekvape’ was. Stacked outside the store was an entire shelving unit of something called ‘propane’.

Through the windows, Enz could see rows upon rows of candy, chips, snacks, sodas, all in obnoxiously saturated colored packaging. A buzzing neon sign that hurt to look at flashed the word OPEN in blue and red.

This store was awesome.

Lorenzo looked up at the half burnt-out sign above the door that proclaimed this magically wonderful place to be the shop of ‘Jacksons’.

A small bell chimed when Theo pulled open the door, startling Enzo. He followed his much more confident friend inside the store, looking around with wide eyes.

Theodore stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“Okay, the guy I was telling you about? He’s kind of under the impression that I’m like, a tourist from out of the country, and that’s why we’re so unfamiliar with their wares. If he asks, we’re Italian exchange students and only speak shitty English, got it?”

Enzo nodded. As if on cue, a ‘Jacksons’ employee popped up out of seemingly nowhere, startling the fuck out of him.

“Hiya, Theodore!”

The employee—a boy around their age, maybe seventeen at the most—was unusually chipper for 10PM on a Sunday.

This must be the guy.

“Who’s your friend here, Theodore?” You asked, smiling.

“Hello, Y/N! This is Lorenzo.”

“Hello,” Enzo greeted softly, his cheeks flushed pink from the snowstorm outside (and that’s the only reason, Theo, stop laughing.)

“Can I help you boys find anything or’re y’all just looking around?”

Enzo couldn’t look away from you. How small you seemed in comparison to his awkwardly lanky height, the way the harsh fluorescents cast dramatic shadows of your eyelashes across your cheekbones, the light blush on the tips of your ears as you looked at Theodore.

Theodore.

He’d said your name. You’d said his name. You knew each other?

How often does he fucking come here? Enzo wondered, a sharp stab of jealousy running through him.

“Cigarettes,” Theo said immediately, exaggerating his usually undetectable accent to an honestly ridiculous amount. Enzo bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at his friend’s ridiculousness.

You just smiled and ducked behind the counter. “Same as last time, or’re you trying something new?”

“Same, please. And un accendino, please,” Theo made a clicking motion with his thumb, indicating a lighter.

You nod, easily pulling down a pack of Marlboro Red without a second thought.

How often does he come here? Enzo wondered for a second time. Enough that you know his favorite kind of cigarette.

“Cheap lighter or d’you wanna go fancy?”

“Cheap, please.”

“Alrighty, one BIC lighter coming up for ya,” you grabbed a lighter off the back wall behind the counter, setting it down by the cash register.

Enzo couldn’t help himself as he stared at the bright blue chunk of… what did Muggles call it again? Plastic.

“Bic?”

You glanced up at his timid voice, shooting him a grin that was just a bit friendlier than the classic customer-service smile. “BIC. It’s just the brand. They make cheap lighters and also pens, for some reason.”

Enzo wanted to ask what a ‘pen’ was, but he had a feeling that that was a terrible idea.

“$7.98. Cash, I assume?”

Theo, for the first time, genuinely faltered, cringing apologetically as he laid down the mess of all-identical green papers on the countertop.

You smiled patiently, plucking one paper out of the spread and pushing a few buttons on the cash register, then returning two papers and a handful of coins to a baffled Theo.

Fucking Muggles, with their impossible-to-memorize currency.

“Damn. It’s really coming down out there,” you shook your head as you peered out the front window of the store, waiting for the long white piece of paper to stop moving from the odd humming machine that sat next to the cash register. “Where’re y’all staying? I don’t think you guys should try to drive home in this.”

They follow your gaze, eyes widening when they see how high the snow has risen. The storm had gotten much, much worse.

“Hey- where is your car, anyway? The parking lot’s empty,” your eyebrows furrowed as you turned back to them with a quizzical face.

Enzo mentally panicked. He knew the word ‘car’—he probably heard it while only half-paying attention in Muggle Studies—but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what a ‘car’ was.

“We walked,” Theo said quickly, jumping in and taking hold of the conversation.

“You walked?” You asked, clearly horrified. “No, no. I can’t in good conscience let you two walk back in this. Haven’t you seen the weather? It’s supposed to be like, nearly a blizzard! Worst snowstorm of the decade!”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened.

Muggles could predict the weather? Holy Salazar, his parents might’ve been wrong about Muggles’ intelligence.

You misinterpreted the way his eyes widened. “Listen, this sounds crazy, but would you guys like, consider crashing at my apartment? Just for the night? Maybe the snow’ll clear up overnight.”

Theo opened his mouth to protest, no, really, we couldn’t take advantage of such hospitality, Y/N, but Lorenzo interrupted.

“We would much like that,” he said firmly. “If it is no problem for you.”

Staying at this hot guy’s apartment for the night? Duh, that’s an obvious yes.

“It’s no problem,” you wave off his concern. “‘sides, wouldn’t want a pair of pretty boys such as yourselves to freeze to death, now would I?”

Theo stiffened and blushed bright red at that, a dopey smile spreading across his face.

Oh Merlin, were you two flirting with each other? Enzo felt that sharp spark of jealousy flare up again in his chest, dampered only by the fact that it was Theo, and not anyone else.

“It’s just right across the street. Lemme close up shop for the night, and we can make a run for it,” you say with finality, ignore Theo’s weak protests.

They watched as you lock the cash register and counter with the practiced ease of someone who had done so many, many times.

You pulled the grate down over the cigarette shelves on the back wall, flicking off the overhead lights and tugging a tiny metal string that made the painfully bright OPEN sign go dark.

“Alright, let’s go,” you said, shooing them out onto the sidewalk, buttoning up your heavy winter coat, and locking the front door.

As you stuffed the keys back into your jeans pocket, Theodore rested his hand on the small of your back.

“Lead the way, bello,” he said with a charming grin. You nodded, smiling at the difference in cultures, wow! and motioning for them to follow you.

The boys followed you in a comfortable silence, shoulders hunched up as they braced themselves against the furiously icy wind.

You all crossed the street, Theodore and Enzo both baffled when a tiny light that looked like a person indicated it was safe to cross.

Your boots clanged on the shaky metal stairs up to the third floor of your apartment building, and your boys followed resolutely.

When they reached the landing, they were met by the image of your rather quaint front door, a tiny, clearly homemade wreath hanging on the center.

“This is it. Not much, I’m afraid,” you sighed, your freezing fingers fumbling with the key as you twisted it in the lock, opening the door for them. You flicked on the lights, illuminating the interior of the small apartment. “Do you guys want tea? Hot chocolate? Coffee, if y’all are psychopaths?”

“Perhaps it is a bit late for coffee,” Theo snickered at your dry humor as he stepped inside. “Tea, if it is not a hassle?”

“‘Course not. Make yourselves at home. My mother won’t be back for hours,” you chatted happily, setting a kettle of water on the stove to boil.

Theodore tentatively sat down at one of the kitchen chairs, looking around the small apartment in surprise. At your reassuring smile, Enzo sat down too, drumming his fingers against the table anxiously.

The kettle whistled after a few minutes, and you poured three mugs of tea, setting them on the table and settling down in one of the empty seats.

Theo reached for one, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours.

After that, it all goes blank.

~~~

Your eyes slowly cracked open, your head pounding and your stomach twisting and turning. You blinked away sleep, rubbing your eyes and yawning as you sat up in bed.

What happened last night?

You startled when your brain finally registers that you’re not in your apartment.

You sat up in a panic, looking around horrified when you don’t recognize your surroundings. The room itself was decorated with an honestly abhorrent amount of green and shiny silver. There were three other beds, identical to the one you were laying in, set up intermittently around the room.

A dorm? You wondered.

A huge window dominated the wall adjacent to the bed you were in, the view on the other side of it oddly distorted and warped.

You leaned in closer, confused, when a tiny yellow fish swam by.

You gasped, and put your hand on the glass to peer out even further.

Were you underwater?

Your amazement was interrupted by a large unidentifiable shadow filling the window. You frowned, your hand drawing back from the glass, when the shadowy shape moved, opening.

A giant fucking eye.

“Jesus fucking-”

You scrambled backwards, falling off of the bed with a yelp. While you fought with the blankets that seemed hell-bent on getting tangled around your legs, the giant eye slowly blinked before the shadowy form started moving again.

A giant squid, you thought with astonishment. There was a giant fucking squid outside of this dorm room’s window.

Finally wrenching yourself free of your blanket prison, you scrambled to your feet and sprinted towards the only door in the room. You jiggled the handle, cursing when it didn’t open.

There wasn’t even a lock, a keyhole, nothing.

How the hell was this door so firmly locked shut then?

Something tacked to the door- actually, there wasn’t a tack either. How was it stuck there?

But what caught your eye was a small scrap of… paper? Parchment? It looked like the paper your art teacher once showed you how to stain with tea.

Who the fuck still writes on parchment? You wondered, scrunching your eyebrows up in confusion as you examined the perfect swoops of calligraphy on the page.

Darling – We’re really sorry for taking you with us (please don’t hate us) and we'll be back here around noon Xoxo, Theo & Enzo (those actually are our real names we promise!!)

((we also might’ve made your mother forget about your existence so she doesn’t try to find you. you’re safe though, don’t worry!))

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

wow! people actually like my stuff enough that i now have a taglist??? (some of y’all weren’t showing up, so lmk if i need to troubleshoot 😭)

@gayaristocrat @slytherinboysappreciation @lemonaderiddle @h-------n @yournogoodalone @knave-hearts @schaebickel @lexacantsleep @big-brother-problems @darkcharmx @cyberbl4de @amandajonhsson @megannxn @catz-80 @ghostiesen @fruityfrog505 @coysa @fruitypebblesstuff @mildlyuninformative @glittervame @cayaevans1 @lizeylavender @cloudydaysinmydreams @ironickarkatlover @ahead-fullofdreams @tachyon-girl @jaythes1mp @lovelyfandomqueen @ashisgreedy

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp x male reader #hp #x male reader #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #male reader #theo nott #yandere theodore nott #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys

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deliasbabe · 8 months ago

Text

Take Me Back To Eden- Venable x Reader- Chapter 1

I feel bad that I haven't given you updates to my other stories, so here's the first chapter to a fic I've been working on for over a year (it's going to be like 35 chapters long, so bear with me plz).

(Also I know this is my second fic with this song title, let me have it)

Enjoy!

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Mentions of sexual acts, language, blatant misogony, mentions of drugs and drug use. I think that's it????

You should’ve won.

It was a bet, a stupid bet to make your coworkers shut the fuck up about your boss. You were good at pool, you thought you had it in the bag, and you did, right up until your opponent bumped the table during your shot, and you sunk the 8-ball. You accused him of cheating, he accused you of being too much of a pussy to hold up your end of the bargain. A deal’s a deal.

It was some kind of twisted fate that the object of your disagreement would walk through the door only a few moments later, a scowl on her face as she spotted you all, brushing past the lot of you and sitting down at the bar.

“Look who it is.” Your coworker, Nate, laughed, “Time to pony up, princess”

You rolled your eyes, “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“For you or her?” Another, Scott, asked.

“You haven’t been on the receiving end of Venable’s wrath yet,” Nate said, “But you’re about to.”

“Not likely.” You sneered, “I’m not stupid enough to code the firmware update in java instead of python, unlike some people.”

“I was a rookie.” Nate scoffed, “You’ve made it two years without being on the receiving end, it’s time you get baptized.”

You could hear the murmurs of the other men, a quiet chant.

One of us, one of us…

“Maybe because I’m actually competent.” You fired back.

“Well, competent or not, nothing is going to save you from this.” Scott chuckled, “Might as well rip off the band aid and get’er done.”

Oh yeah, you were definitely about to be fired.

“Who knows, maybe she’s really into the bosses sleeping with their assistant’s thing. Might feed her fantasy.” Nate joked.

“Or yours.” You spit.

“Listen, as hot as lesbians are, if I ever start fantasizing about Venable getting her rocks off, please shoot me in the head.” Nate said seriously.

You downed your drink and turned on your heel, willing to do just about anything to get away from the current conversation. You knew what you had signed up for when you took this job, a staff of 95% men, all of whom hadn’t fucked a girl in at least 10 years and were proud members of the boy’s club, but you still didn’t want to subject yourself to their blatant misogyny any more than you had to.

Obviously, you weren’t going to do it. It was cruel and unnecessary, but you knew your colleagues well enough to understand that it had to at least be believable. You walked up next to her, making sure you were facing the group so they couldn’t see her face.

The bartender looked over at you, “Another round?”

“Yea, same thing.” You said, nodding in Venables direction, “And put whatever she’s having on my tab.”

Venable turned and glared at you, but you ignored it.

“Just this round?” The bartender asked.

“All of it.” You said, shaking your head, it was the least you could do after what you were about to put her through.

“Well, I guess it’s payment for forcing me to witness you traipsing around with those men like a whore.” Venable sneered.

“That’s a funny way of saying thank you.” You laughed, “There’s nothing wrong with grabbing a few drinks with colleagues. You should try it sometime.”

Venable scoffed, bringing her martini to her lips, “Workplace relationships are forbidden.”

You smirked, “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not into men.”

Venable sputtered around the rim of her glass; eyes wide as she choked on the burning liquid. You reached for your new drink, taking a sip as you winked at her and walked away.

“What happened?” Nate asked, “It sure didn’t take long.”

“Nothing, yet.” You said, “I walked away before she could give me an answer.”

“But the dare…” Scott interjected, but you were quick to cut him off.

“The dare was to ask her on a date, which I did.” You retorted, “No one said anything about her giving me an answer.”

“But she has to give you an answer, that’s how this works.” Nate said, and you shushed him.

“Cool your jets.” You groaned, “Getting someone to agree to a date is more like a game of chess than checkers. Good things take time.”

Nate and Scott laughed, “You are so getting fired on Monday.”

“Don’t I know it.” You mumbled over the rim of your glass.

In typical Venable fashion, you didn’t have to sit with it for long, a sticky note taped to your monitor on Monday morning for an eleven o’clock meeting. Working under Venable for as long as you had, you knew her habits. Meetings with clients were always first thing in the morning, before Jeff and Mutt had enough time to sniff themselves into a stupor. Staff meetings were after scheduled hours or during lunch, unpaid, of course. The eleven o’clock time slot lived in infamy, it was right before lunch, giving you just enough time to pack your things and do the walk of shame as everyone walked back through the doors. Clearly a genius move, or one of an absolute psychopath.

“What the fuck was that?” Venable sneered before you were even able to fully shut the door.

You pushed the door the rest of the way closed, “What was what?”

“At the bar.” Venable said, rolling her eyes, “Don’t tell me the alcohol killed what little brain cells you have left. I should fire you for speaking to me that way.”

You shrugged, “So fire me.”

Venable sighed, her words biting, “I don’t want to fire you. I want an explanation.”

That was a lie, she absolutely wanted to fire you, and she probably would have, if you hadn’t overheard that Jeff and Mutt were considering placing her on a firing freeze. She had hit an all-time record, canning 17 employees in the span of two weeks, and now she was doing damage control. But she didn’t know that you knew, and you weren’t going to let her figure that out. A loss of control was seen as weakness to Venable, and if she found out that you knew, nothing Jeff and Mutt could bring down would stop her from getting rid of you.

You shook your head, “It’s better if you don’t know.”

Venable grit her teeth, her nails digging into the soft wood of her desk, “I asked a question, I expect an answer.”

You threw your hands up, “I lost a game of pool.”

Venable cocked her head, very slightly, and chewed on her words, “You… lost a game of pool?”

“Yes.” You said, hoping if you danced around the topic enough, she would eventually get bored and leave it alone, or just assume you were too stupid to get any viable information out of.

Venable’s eyes raked over you, before zeroing in on some invisible crack in your armor, “And?”

“And?” You asked, trying to play dumb.

“I assume there’s more to the story, given the way your feet are dancing like you’re stepping on red hot coals.” Venable said, eyes following yours towards your feet, “Spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “We bet on the game. I lost the game, so I had to hold up my end of the deal.”

“Which was?” Venable asked, growing tired of your antics.

You sighed, “To ask you on a date.”

Venable cocked her head to the side, studying you for a moment, “You didn’t ask me on a date.” You nodded, “So then you didn’t hold up your end of the deal.”

You nodded again. “I’m not going to ask someone out for a dare, its cruel and juvenile. I just needed them,” You said, motioning to the row of desks opposite the frosted glass walls, “To think I did.”

“You risked your job,” Venable sneered, “For a childish dare?”

“Actually,” You began, cocking your head and smirking, “I risked my job so I wouldn’t have to do the dare. Men are stupid, and extremely gullible.”

Venable’s eyes narrowed, “Why would they dare you to ask me out?”

You rolled your eyes, “Because they’re intimidated by strong women, and they wanted to humiliate you.”

She pursed her lips, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It isn’t flattery,” you chuckled, “You scare the shit out of them.” Venable tried her best to fight the smirk on her lips, but you still caught it, and you thought you should get out while you were ahead, “Now, am I fired, or can I get back to work?”

Venable looked confused, “I haven’t assigned you anything.”

“Jeff and Mutt want me to work on their “super-secret project”. ” You said, rolling your eyes and making air quotes with your fingers, “I have to go through security clearances.”

“Why would they need you?” Venable asked, her voice dripping in condescension. While it wasn’t unusual for Jeff and Mutt to borrow her employees, it wasn’t typical to borrow assistants, and certainly not on a project so secret that even she was being kept out of the loop.

You shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Very well. You are excused.” Venable said, her face setting. “And Y/n?” You turned, looking back at your boss, “Don’t let it happen again. Next time, you’ll be lucky to be a dishwasher at McDonalds.”

You smirked, “McDonalds doesn’t have a dishwasher, but I get the sentiment.”

Venable rolled her eyes as you shut the door, cursing Jeff and Mutt for putting her in this position. Had she been able to do what she wanted, you never would have felt comfortable enough to make such a statement, let alone challenge her. She didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, the most recent delivery of a certain white substance being delivered straight to her office, and she knew the boys were already itching to reup on their dose.

“The woman of the hour!” Jeff yelled, fist pumping the air as he spotted the giant jar firmly planted in her arm, “Have I told you I loved you lately?”

“Save it.” Venable sneered, dodging his grabby hands and keeping the cocaine just out of reach, “What’s going on with this secret project?”

“Nothing you need to worry your fiery little head with.” Mutt said, “Just know it’s going, full steam ahead.”

“How can I manage it if I don’t know what it is?” Venable asked.

“You aren’t managing it.” Jeff said, “We are.”

“You two,” Venable said carefully, “Are managing it, all on your own?”

Mutt laughed, “Yeah, it’s going to be fucking sick.”

“So why are you stealing my employee?” Venable asked, the two engineers sharing glances.

“We need her skillset.” Mutt finally answered, obviously dragging his feet.

“She’s an assistant.” Venable stated.

“Yeah,” Jeff said, “She’s also an engineer, and she’s not bad to look at.”

Venable scoffed, “You’re stealing my employee because she’s attractive?”

“No, were stealing her because we need her brain.” Mutt said, “The fact that she’s a babe is just a bonus.”

“So, you aren’t going to tell me anything?” Venable asked, Jeff and Mutt staring back at her.

“It’s not that we want to not tell you anything, we just can’t.” Jeff offered apologetically, conveniently reaching for the cocaine at the same time with pleading eyes.

Venable huffed, swinging the cocaine out of his reach at the last second, and placing it on the farthest table as she stomped out of the room, ignoring the string of apologies from her bosses. This just wouldn’t do. She had always been in the loop, from day one. Those idiots couldn’t be trusted to run an entire project by themselves, they could barely remember their own addresses. Quite literally, Venable was the one who had to give the addresses to their cab drivers because they were too blitzed to form a coherent thought. She sat and she stewed for the remainder of the day, before she settled on a plan. She was tired of being on the outs, she needed to regain her power.

When you got the message on teams, you worried she had changed her mind, and you felt your palms begin to sweat.

My office. Now.

You trudged past your coworkers and towards her office, Nate and Scott snickering behind you.

“Someone’s in trouble.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but feel like they were right. She was playing with you, the same way she did to every other employee, making you feel safe and then yanking the carpet out from beneath you. Still, you opened the door and stepped into her den, her eyes flicking over you for only a second, “Close the door.”

You shut the door behind you, asking hesitantly, “What can I do for you, Miss Venable?”

Venable didn’t even look up, “It’s more so what I can do for you.”

“Pardon?” You asked, unsure of the direction this conversation was heading, and there was no way you could prepare for the words about to leave her mouth.

“I’ll speak in plain terms so that you understand.” Venable sneered, “I’ll let you fulfill your little dare, and in turn, you give me information on whatever it is that Jeff and Mutt are stealing you for.”

“The project?” You asked, your head spinning.

Venable sighed, glaring at you, “Is there anything else they are stealing you for?”

“No?” You said, shaking your head, “But why would you need me to gather information?”

Venable rolled her eyes, “Jeff and Mutt have decided they will be handling it themselves; they don’t want a grownup’s help. I need to make sure they don’t royally fuck it up. I’ve spent far too long building a reputation for this company, I don’t need them snorting it away. Now do we have a deal, or will you be looking for a new position?”

You shook your head, still unable to process what she was asking of you, “You do realize they’re only doing this so they can make fun of you, right?”

Venable arched a brow, “I’ve never cared about men’s opinions before. Why start now?”

“Yea, but, those coconut heads design sex robots.” You tried again, “For all I know, they could want me to code for a doll that gives head.”

Venable stared at you, clearly annoyed with the conversation, “You have a week to gather as much information as you can. That will be all.”

You stared at her as she refocused on her work, completely ignoring your lingering presence, before you shook your head incredulously, “Ok.”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you left her office, beelining straight for Nate’s desk and whispering in his ear, “Just to be clear, you’re my bitch now.”

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable

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